LACHLAN

Drinks?  Dinner?  To be honest, I'm not quite certain how I feel about this coming evening.  It seems that while I spent the day sleeping, everyone has been buzzing about in everyone else's ears.  I dunno what to make of that.  I do know one thing, though.  Just because they've got themselves sorted doesn't mean I have.  The kip did me good, as did the long hot shower I took after I got off the phone with Uma, but the last time I was with Thorne, I took a swing at him and the last time I thought of Heather-

God.  This evening wasn't shaping up to be too much fun even before my fantasy life took a walk on the wild side.  Just speaking to Uma over the phone was enough to make me uncomfortable... and the thought of sitting at a table with Heather after the kinds of things I'd imagined doing to her was worse.  I'm no green lad, but some of the things I'd fantasized about I'd only done with a handful of my closest lovers.  Others, I hadn't done at all.  I simply hadn't wanted to possess a woman so completely, so violently before. 

This- this struggle with that overwhelmingly possessive urge is something new.  And I'm not altogether sure I care for it.  It's no longer unmanageable, however.  I'm not running on fumes now.  And the kip, the wank, and the shower had done a hell of a lot towards restoring my good cheer.  Were it not for the nature of my earlier fantasies, I might have actually been looking forward to this evening.   

Maybe.

Actually, what I really wanted was to spend the evening alone with Heather, but I recognized the wisdom in Uma's words.  Maybe even more than she knew.  I fancied both women.  So did Thorne.  And as it's my job to ferry his sorry carcass across the pond on a regular basis, it stands to reason the four of us will no doubt cross paths with some regularity.  Much as I hate to admit it, Terry was right.  Better to weather the turbulence now rather than when we're all stuck together on the same plane for twenty hours.

I depressed the button and waited for the lift to arrive, taking one last moment to brush a speck of nonexistent lint from my dark suit.  Had a momentary pang for my old uniform.  Always did cut a fine figure in that, mate.  Ladies liked it too.  Of course, these days the only time I saw one like I used to wear was on Memorial Day or Veteran's Day.  It's a bit disturbing, really.  It seems like yesterday to me and yet so much time as passed for them.  Those men, those old men, they're my brothers too.  We share the same stories, the same history and yet my youth keeps me from truly being one of them.  Sometimes I think I was not meant to belong anywhere.  Always bouncing around the world with no place to call home.  That's me, hey?

The doors of the lift opened and for half a second, my breath caught when I realized I knew the lone occupant.  Heather.  Fair dinkum, she was lovely.  Her dress was the color of black coffee.  A clingy satin number that fell well past her knees but was short enough to show off the sexy high heeled sandals she was wearing.  In my day women wore heavy black pumps and I have to say, although there are a great many things about modern women I find difficult to adjust to, some things I very much like. 

Her eyes widened and she smiled shyly when saw me.  She'd pulled her hair back into a low ponytail at her nape and this time her hair couldn't hide her flush from me.  I took a great amount of satisfaction in the fact that I was the man who'd caused the color in her cheeks this time.  She drew in a sharp breath as I entered the lift and I couldn't help but notice the way her breasts moved gently under her dress.  No bra.  She was a fascinating mix of innocence and sensuality. 

Despite the sophistication of her dress, there was something about her that made her seem young and soft.  I couldn't have kept the grin off my face if I tried.  I waited until she met my eyes before greeting her.  "Lachlyn."

She smiled back.  "Lachlan."

We both laughed.  "I dunno, love.  What's a bloke to think when you join this Game already sporting his name?"  So sue me, I wanted to see her flush again.  It worked.  I wondered if I'd ever get the chance to see just how far down her chest that blush went.  I stuffed my hands into my pockets to keep from touching her and tried valiantly to keep my eyes on her face.   

"Hey, it was my name first."  Her eyes flashed playfully at me before they returned demurely to the floor.

I raised an eyebrow at her.  "Born in the early 1900's then, were you?"  This time her laughter was full and throaty.  I had the sudden urge to steal her away, to take her someplace where we could share a more intimate evening together, preferably one not spent in the company of our former lovers.  I knew very well I couldn't, but it didn't stop me from wanting to.  I smiled at her.  "You're looking lovely this evening for a woman of your advanced years."

The color on her cheeks rose at the compliment but her eyes were back on mine, crackling with mischief.  "Well, I do leave the cane at home for those special occasions... clashes with the dress, you know."

There was something in the way she moved just then that brought back every vivid image from my dark fantasies with startling clarity.  I felt myself pale under my tan.  How could I have forgotten that?  And how could I have allowed myself to think such base thoughts about someone like her?  Worse, how could I think them still?  And make no mistake, I was thinking them.  Even now.  Sharing this confined space only heightened my awareness of her.  I could smell her.  I wanted to taste her.  To see if I could find the places she'd scented her skin with perfume, using only my mouth.  Her wrists?  The hollow of her throat?  Between her breasts?

I flashed on an image of her kneeling before me, giving me the most intimate kiss a woman can give a man.  I felt color rise in my own cheeks.  The silence between us grew longer and more uncomfortable as my mind supplied more images.  Words echoed in my head; my voice and yet not.

I reckon there's a bit more of the Creator in us than we imagined.  Or maybe more of us in him.  Either way.  I swallowed a bark of insane laughter.  I'm certain Uma's little plan for us all to make nice didn't involve me fanaticizing about getting a head job from Heather in the lift on the way down to the bar.

Made me feel like the dirtiest bastard alive, but it didn't stop the images.  I also don't think women truly understand what seeing the soft, natural movement of unbound breasts or the hint of a nipple under a dress does to a man.  Especially a man like me.  In my day women wore foundation garments.  It was like storming a bloody fortress, mate. 

I felt a bit under siege myself... from the images in my mind, her scent, the way graceful way she held herself, the sound of her laugh, the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed.  Jesus.  My mind chose that moment to remind me that I already knew what color her nipples were.  I think my mouth actually watered and by the time the lift doors opened in the lobby, I was uncomfortably, achingly hard. 

Despite our awkward silence, I held the door for her while she walked out and I drew in a deep breath as I got a good look at the back of her dress, or rather the lack of it.  The skirt moved gracefully as she walked but it was backless.  No zip.  No fabric.  Just two tiny straps that crisscrossed over her back, laced twice back and forth under that and then were tied in a bow at the small of her back, with the tails of left to fall well below the sweet curve of her arse, drawing a man's eye to that exact spot.  Her skin was so smooth and pretty.  I had the sudden urge to cover her with my jacket so none of the other men tonight could watch her as I was doing now.   

My eyes flicked up and I smiled as I saw the flowers tucked in the band holding back her hair.  That was it, then, the reason she seemed both like a woman and like a little girl.  No jewelry, just the few simple flowers for adornment.  I wondered why she'd chosen to do that.  I've known a goodly number of women in my day, mate, and most of them relished the chance to get all dolled up in their best... and then my smile faltered as I remembered the pearls I'd seen her wearing earlier.  Well then.  That answered that question.   

Nothing to do for it now, though.  I didn't want to dwell on the things she'd shared with Thorne, just as I'm sure he did not care to dwell on the things I'd shared with his woman.  God, this Game.  It is both a blessing and a curse, especially for an old man like me.  I sighed.  Things were awkward enough already and Heather was more withdrawn with me now than ever after our stilted silence in the lift, but I bloody well wanted this to work and I wanted to get to know this shy sweet girl like I haven't wanted anything in a long time. 

I wrestled my erotic thoughts into submission and grinned at her as I offered her my arm.  She smiled shyly and took it with only a moment's hesitation.  I tucked her tiny hand into the curve of my elbow and let my fingers rest lightly on hers for just a moment.  It was the first time I'd ever touched her.  Gave me quite a jolt.  Felt a bit like that time when I was four and I tried to push a penny in the socket when my mum wasn't looking - only this feeling was deeper; the heady passion of a man, not the wonderment of a naughty child.  I've a habit of collecting special moments and, mate?  This one was a cracker.             

HEATHER           

You want to know a secret, Sisters?  The universe has a sense of humor.  I'm convinced of it.  Something beyond fate or destiny or kismet.  I truly think that some things happen the way they do because somehow, somewhere some cosmic entity is getting a good laugh at our expense.  How else to explain Lachlan's strange penchant for showing up when the odd door's opened?  At least this time I wasn't next to naked and perched on Terry's lap.  That was a sobering thought.  No doubt that's how Lachlan remembers me. 

We both seemed to freeze for half a second, watching each other.  I saw his eyes flick down and up as he took me in, but it was my face his eyes returned to.  I did my share of looking at him as well.  Black suit.  Blue shirt.  It made his eyes look lighter, like the sky instead of the ocean.  He'd showered and shaved.  I wanted to stroke my fingers along his jaw to test its smoothness.  Actually, what I really wanted was to bury my face in his throat and feel his arms around me.

Again, I had the sense that he was older than I remembered from his film.  Quiet.  More settled.  A bit less open and a bit more jaded perhaps, but he still had that wonderful sense of irreverence as well as that unwavering quiet strength I found so attractive.  My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I wondered if he could hear it.  The simple truth was Lachlan scared me.  More than any of the others.  More than Hando.  More than Terry.  Not in a physical way, though.  Lachlan would be the last man to hurt a woman.  I think it's more where there is a great capacity for love, there is also a great potential for hurt.  I also think there is something in a woman's heart that recognizes when she has met just such a man. 

Of course, the minute he spoke to me, my thoughtful introspection went by the wayside.  I felt the sudden, insane desire to squeal like a teenager, 'OhMyGod!  He's flirting with me!' even though I'd never been one to shriek like a ninny, not as a girl and certainly not as a woman.  The giddy warmth I felt was fleeting however.  After just a few moments he seemed to pale and I saw him put physical distance between us even as I felt him withdraw mentally.  Hurt blossomed in my breast.  I wondered what I'd done wrong or if he'd suddenly remembered the unpleasantness of this morning... or maybe it was that he simply didn't feel the draw as I did.  I didn't know him well enough to tell.

I didn't know him at all, really.  Sure, I'd seen his film and I'd seen him through Uma's eyes in her diaries but I didn't know him.  For all my silliness, I am not a foolish woman.  What I felt for him wasn't love.  It could be, given half a chance, but I wasn't naïve enough to believe in love at first sight, nor to believe he would love me simply because I was Sister and he was a Brother and we were both unattached.  We might call it a game, but it isn't really.  My heart is not so casually wagered and our feelings are too precious to be treated so cavalierly.

Something seemed to shift in him when we reached the lobby.  There was still distance between us and awkwardness, but there was a surety in him I hadn't seen before.  And it was something more than a man resolved to make the most out of a potentially difficult evening.  He was quiet but not tentative and when he offered me his arm, it wasn't at all a brotherly gesture.  The change surprised me and I looked at him a moment before I wrapped my hand around his arm.  Under the fine cloth of his coat, I could feel the muscles in his forearm bunch and flex. 

He smiled down at me as he covered my hand with his and stroked it gently with his fingers.  The first touch of his skin on mine.  It was electric.  I know he had to have felt my tremble.  I thought he would be smug, as men often are when they realize how susceptible a woman is to their charms.  Lachlan's smile softened instead and I swear I felt an answering tremble in him.  It wasn't a magic cure for our awkwardness and it in no way erased all the obstacles that stood between us, but it was a beginning, Diary.  Not a grand one, perhaps, but it was ours.  And that's what made all the difference.

UMA

Sometimes I get the impression that I ought to rent out as a crowd pleaser on awkward occasions. If I were paid for it, tonight's dinner would have earned a goodly fee. Terry and I strolled over to the bar with a no-nonsense kid of swagger; he rubbing his hands together, all matey and 'I've got a thirst on me you could photograph' while I was all hyper, full of 'Oh isn't this nice, let's get rat-arsed' excess. I should already have been loosened up by my afternoon session and the bottle of wine with Heather, but somehow I actually felt as sober as a judge. The blokes ordered a jug of draught, Heather wine and I launched myself into the Margaritas as if they were some kind of miracle cure for terminal embarrassment instead of the likely cause of even more. When I drank the first one straight and ordered another, Terry nudged me and gave me one of his visual warnings. I still ordered it.

"Isn't this place fabulous?" I started off, like a right darling from the Tatler pages. "It is just so...fabulous...isn't it?" They all agreed politely that it was indeed a very nice place. I looked at Terry and silently pleaded with him to 'throw me a frigging bone.'

"So, what's the house schedule looking like?" He volunteered, gamely.

I could have kissed his feet. A safe topic I could talk about! Also something Lachlan had some knowledge of, too. And you can always get a woman involved if you ask her opinion about furnishings or something. I was away. I started in high speed and I ended up in warp drive but even managed to get Lachlan's opinions of the floorboards -although there was a dodgy minute when he mentioned that they would need a good sanding and lots of the nails were loose. He looked at me and we both swallowed hard at the memory of when we both got splinters from the lounge floor- he in his knee, I in my bum- do I need to tell you what we were up to?  Heather then volunteered some of her ideas on colour schemes.  I regaled them with the episode when the contractor's team turned up for a look-see- they are the motliest crew imaginable. I'm surprised they weren't snapped up as extras on the Surprise. Terry asked remarkably intelligent questions about things I knew he didn't give a shit about (like the colour of the downstairs bathroom tiles) and did not turn a hair when I mentioned some of the prices of furniture and the like that I had ordered. In fact he just sat and listened and seemed very impressed about some of the decisions I had taken, which, considering my general state of mind, seem to have been quite inspired.

Whatever drivel I was spouting, it seemed to have an effect because everyone visibly relaxed. Terry picked up my hand and held it quite openly and it didn't seem awkward at all; Lachlan and Heather began to talk and we just backed off and let them hold forth, more than willing to be quiet and just enjoy being with each other.

The menus arrived and we were quite bubbly choosing the food. There were lots of comments about the oysters- the usual remarks about their aphrodisiac qualities and the men claiming not to need any help.

"Go on Tez," I observed, "Have a dozen, with any luck at least one of them will work this time..." I noticed a glance flicker between Terry and Heather but decided that I was simply going to ignore anything I didn't want to see, so we coasted past that little minefield quite nicely and gave our order. Unsurprisingly no one actually did order oysters.

Dinner was served on a balcony festooned with tropical flowers and candles; it really was fabulous, and there was a great Filipino band singing love ballads in the background. A few courses of excellent food later, two bottles of a very decent Aussie red and we were all as happy as Larry (whoever he is).

Lach looked so different from the morning- smiling, flirting softly and watching Heather all the time- his eyes never left her. I caught Terry's eye and saw he had noticed too, recognised his wry smile, and then devoted myself to watching him. It's my favourite pursuit in a public place. He looked so well, so almost back to his old self that I forgot about the presence of the other two and just stared at him. He stared at me. It was a bit pathetic really but there's a lot to be said for conversing with your eyes, your fingertips trailing each other's palms and the occasional bit of footsie under the table. In that kind of love-play there is absolutely no chance you can misconstrue or say the wrong thing. I breathed out calmly and drank my wine, bathed in his presence and the warm friendship of the others.

TERRY

There are times when Uma needs a gag and there are others where she is quite the best conversationalist I know. It all depends where her head is at any given moment; tonight she was on top form. If you discount the fact that she was speaking so fast we all almost needed interpreters to follow her, she certainly got the party rolling and her description of the team of jokers who work for our contractor - they were apparently introduced to her just before she left, had us all rolling in the aisles. Lachlan's dry asides warning me about some young stud amongst them who nearly tripped over his baggy jeans when he saw Uma, were pretty funny, too.  I was amazed at how much she had achieved whilst I had been away, aware that she must have struggled hard to handle the extra stress on top of everything else. Although she can make such a fuss about absolutely nothing (e.g. choosing shoes), she is very forthright at decision-taking in other areas and can be quite ruthlessly focused when she wants to be. I am learning more about her all the time - she is strong and sure beneath the crazy exterior. I felt quite absurdly proud of her as she chattered, waved her hands around and made silly faces- she's a trouper and no mistake.

So we had a few shouts at the bar- that greased us all up nicely- and by the time we sat down to dine, I reckoned we were going to do real fine. By then Lachlan had come out of the funk he had been in when we turned up and Heather was animated and lively, throwing her clever little darts into the conversation and bantering nicely with Biggles. I backed off and so did Uma- she can be remarkably sensitive to other people when she wants to be- and we just sat and listened to the other two. Heather looked beautiful, the bright sparkle back in her eyes, coupled with the graceful stillness of her body so feminine and beguiling. Curry never took his eyes off her and she rarely looked from him. There was a sort of gleam in her expression as she watched him- like awe and fascination. Then I turned to Uma and saw the same look on her face and realised that it was directed at me. That's why it had looked so familiar. It's how she always looks when she thinks I'm not paying attention; but tonight even when I gave her my complete focus, she didn't hide behind glib comments and funny remarks. She knows exactly when that's not needed.

I took her hand and it felt so good curled in mine; I drank in her image- beautiful, vibrant, lips always breaking into a wide smile, eyes always dancing with mischief, her lively energy irresistible. She couldn't keep still: happiness poured out of her in waves, contentment was written all over her. She is intoxicating when she is in this mood - I cannot imagine any man not seeing her and wanting her to be his. Except for Curry. He occasionally shot her a grin or an affectionate look passed between them but each time he couldn't wait to get back to Heather. I felt a slight nostalgia already for what Heather and I had found and knew that it had burnt its fiery passion out in a blaze of glory. What was left was sweet and deep but would never be her heart's desire. I just hope that the two of them realise what is staring everyone else in the face. They are meant to be. Not a single doubt in my mind about that.

Curry's a good bloke. Looks pretty smart tonight and he's in great shape. Reminds me of myself a few years back -obviously- but still it makes you think.  Made a mental note to take some time in the gym and maybe get back to swimming regularly- I've been lazy recently and well, I need to keep peak fitness in my profession. And in this Game- some of those young guys remind me of the march of time a bit too much; if Tink mentions East's naked torso or Hando's impressive musculature once more, I might just get a complex. On the other hand- I reckon she likes a bit of meat on her men whatever she says to me. She doesn't look like she's complaining tonight anyway.

HEATHER

What'd I tell you and the universe and its humor, Diary?  Uma's quick wit and fast tongue kept everything moving along splendidly while we had drinks....well, except for that look she and Lachlan exchanged when he mentioned the floorboards needed a good sanding.  Something they no doubt found out the hard way.  The moment wasn't too bad though, but I suspect that had to do with my wondering which one of them wound up with splinters in their butt rather than any genuine maturity on my part.  

In any case, the drinks actually went quite well thanks to Uma's chatter.  She not only got conversation going, but managed to draw us all in as well.  Granted we all steered clear of certain sensitive topics, i.e. the Game and anything related to it, but things were going along better than I expected, until dinner that is.  Of all the dishes that could have been chosen for the 'special' on this most tentative of evenings, they had to be serving oysters.  Sexual innuendo aside, that might have spoiled the evening considering they were serving it with black pearl caviar, (which caused a number of uncomfortable looks around the table as the waiter mentioned the word 'pearl') but I think what saved us was the fact that the featured dessert of the evening was crème brulee served with sugared peaches that had been soaked in peach brandy.  Really, it was just too much.     

Uma, who'd been tittering behind her menu, burst out laughing.  I covered my mouth to hold it in and even Lachlan and Terry cracked smiles.  It really was the most wonderful icebreaker.  Wisecracks flew.  As did a furtive glance or two between Terry and myself when Uma teased him about actually needing the oysters.  None of us had the 'special'.  All of us ordered the peach dessert.  Dinner was actually quite entertaining.  And it had an entirely different mood from the more labored conversation we'd been making at the bar.

To be honest, I spent a goodly portion of my time at the bar comparing myself to Uma.  She was gorgeous in this cream colored dress that emphasized her willowy figure.  Diamonds sparkled at her throat and in her ears.  Her hair had that messy-chic look, like she'd just stepped of a yacht on her way to some fabulous party.  It made me think of that movie 'Sabrina'.  I couldn't help but feel like I was Sabrina before she'd gone to Paris, and Uma was Sabrina after she'd returned, all sparkle and polish.  She was effervescent and bubbly, smart and sophisticated.  And her love for Terry shone so clearly in her eyes.  It was little wonder his heart belonged to her. 

As it should.  

Beside her artless elegance, I felt like a little girl playing dress-up.  My attire was no less suited to the evening, but once it was removed, the air of sophistication would go with it and I would just be me; the quiet girl more comfortable with a paintbrush in her hand than a cocktail.  Uma was the real deal; the clothes didn't matter.  She could have made a flour sack seem elegant and from the look in Terry's eyes as he gazed at her, it was clear he felt the same.  

Although, to be fair, I think I would have felt that way even if Uma hadn't been there.  I guess I'm just not the five-star kind of girl.  I also felt a bit naked without any jewelry, but I was glad I hadn't worn any.  The pearls would have been perfect with the dress in both style and color, but I thought the flowers sufficient enough adornment for the evening.  I didn't even feel too dowdy.  Every woman in this room was wearing some kind of jewelry.  I was the only one with flowers.  I had other pieces I could have worn, but I was afraid Uma would see the pearls no matter what I chose to wear.  This way was better, although I knew Terry would notice the absence of any jewelry and that would immediately bring to mind his gift to me.  It was hard to believe he'd only given them to me last night.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.

In contrast to the conversation over drinks, the conversation over dinner was easy, comfortable.  As the meal wore on, Uma and Terry said less and less and Lachlan and I spoke more and more.  I think it was partly because they were doing their best to help us all mend our fences and partly because they were beginning to withdraw into each other.  His hand was on hers.  They were still speaking, all right.  They just weren't using words.  I envied them their closeness.  I know Lachlan did too when he caught my eye, glanced over at them and grinned knowingly.  It was like Johnny and Kate, all over again.  We even had the moon overhead.  All that was missing was the old car and the Canadian outback. 

We left them to it and talked quietly until dessert came.  That roused everyone a bit.  We toasted Izzy, as was only proper with such a delicious offering of peaches, but the mood was more romantic than jovial.  And truthfully, as we lingered over dessert, it was Lachlan who held my attention, not the couple on the other side of the table.  The more we talked the more I liked him and the farther away the rest of the world felt.  It was terrifying and wonderful.  Like falling and flying.  It felt a lot like excitement and happiness... and maybe even a little like love. 

UMA

The band struck up and I recognized the familiar Latin beat. My body responds to music almost instinctively and Terry, whose hand was resting lightly on the back of my seat, felt my motion. He took my hand and inclined his head.

"C'mon, let's show them how it's done, eh?" I threw back my head and laughed, casting aside any remaining reticence before the others as he led me by the hand onto the floor. We fell into the syncopated beat, I guess a rumba, and I was again struck by what a natural dancer he is - but then all the Brothers are so physically well coordinated, Terry probably one of the most confident in the use of his body. It is such a rare and intoxicating experience these days to dance with a man who knows how to dance and feels no embarrassment about it - in fact Terry loves nothing better than sweeping a woman away on a dance floor. And I was ready to be swept.

I grinned when I realized what the song was. So sappy but somehow so perfect for the moment- he groaned and laughed too, but hammed it up anyway as we linked our fingers and began to move our hips.

(Let me be your hero) 
Would you dance
if asked you to dance 
Would you run 
and never look back? 
Would you cry
if you saw me crying? 
Would you save my soul tonight?

He whispered at me as we danced, our eyes locked "Well, would you?"

Would you tremble 
if I touched your lips 
Would you laugh? 
Oh please, tell me this 
Now would you die 
for the one you love? 
Hold me in your arms tonight 

I looked at him as the words were sung; I just adore him and hope he knows quite how deep my love for him runs. I think he does. "Is that enough answer?" was all I said. He swept me against him, held me close and sang the words into my ear as we moved.

I can be your hero, baby 
I can kiss away the pain 
I will stand by you forever 
You can take my breath away 

I echoed his words as we swayed together, lost for a while in just being there and in each other's arms. The whole world seemed to disappear; just me and him and the rhythm, the feel of his body pressed against me, the knowledge that his touch was the foreplay for so much more between us - but no need to hurry, we had all night. We had the rest of our lives.

You can be my hero, baby 
You can kiss away the pain 
I will stand by you forever 
You can take my breath away

His lips came down on mine and we kissed, suddenly still, doing no more than rocking gently from side-to-side as he held me firmly by my waist, his body grinding into me, his mouth pressing down, his tongue searching. I enfolded his neck in my arms and tried to climb inside him.

We stayed like that even after the music had stopped. I'm not sure what we looked like, but I didn't care and I don't suppose he did either. Somewhere in my mind I wondered how it felt for Lachlan to see us so openly displaying the way we felt about each other, or for Heather to see the man with whom she had begun the day now with another woman. As we broke from the kiss and another song was beginning, I noticed that over his shoulder, I could see the other couple taking the floor, a little tentatively, blushing, shy. Did I see something in their eyes or was it just the reflection of the stars in mine? I'm getting worse- but I swear I saw something flare between them, like a moment of stark recognition.

Lachlan looked across at me and smiled; Heather followed his gaze and her face showed me that she was happy for Terry and for me; there was no sign that she felt rejected. Because she hadn't been. I know Terry well enough. Heather was now an important part of his life and always would be. Just as Lachlan is in mine.

Some divine hand had planned the programme for tonight's floorshow. The next song made us both smile broadly; it's an old favourite of his- you know what a fan he is of Van the Man for those poignant moments when a guy needs a piece of music to tear at his heart strings, don't you?

The Filipino group moved smoothly into this love ballad as we moved as smoothly into each other's arms.

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there's no one else above you?
Fill my heart with gladness
take away all my sadness
ease my troubles, that's what you do

For the morning sun in all its glory
greets the day with hope and comfort too
You fill my life with laughter
and somehow you make it better
ease my troubles that's what you do.

There's a love that's divine
and it's yours and it's mine, like the sun
And at the end of the day
we should give thanks and pray
to the One, to the One

It was about as schmaltzy as you can get, but we sang it softly to each other as we smooched across the floor. I rested my head on his warm chest and felt the steady beat of his strong heart. For this moment from now on I will learn to live for the moment.

"Let's go, love, I think we need to be alone," he muttered into my ear, the whisper of warm air on my lobe bringing a sweet confusion to my body, but I shook my head. "Give me a minute. I need to talk to Lachlan," I replied and eased myself away from him.

They were near us on the floor, dancing close and smiling at each other. I walked over with Terry and we both cut in; Lachlan turned to me with a grin and spun me away.

There's a love that's divine
and it's yours and it's mine like the sun
And at the end of the day
we should give thanks and pray
to the One, to the One

Have I told you lately that I love you?
Have I told you there's no one else above you?
You fill my heart with gladness
take away my sadness
ease my troubles, that's what you do

The song ended and I spoke to him, holding his face in my hands, smoothing down the fringe that refuses to stay back. "You eased my troubles, Lachlan. There's no one quite like you. I shall never forget what you have been for me. Nor will Terry. I have a strange feeling that something is about to happen for you- you're going to find what you need; I believe it in my heart. But you and I, we will always have something... I'll be looking at the moon, Lach, but I'll be seeing you...Remember?"

I left his arms and re-joined Terry, who was breaking from a soft kiss with Heather. He took my hand and we smiled goodnight to the others as I let him lead me from the floor.

HEATHER

I felt a pang of something in my breast as I watched Terry dance with Uma.  It wasn't so much that I was jealous because he was holding Uma and not me, it was more a longing for the same kind of love they'd found.  Lachlan was quiet too and I wondered what he was thinking.  Did he envy Terry the woman in his arms?  Or did he envy kind of relationship they had?  I watched the dancers wistfully, thinking that for as much as I'd like to feel Lachlan leading me for a turn around the floor, I was enjoying this time alone with him just as much.  For the first time, the quiet between us was comfortable, not awkward, and I felt as if I closed my eyes and rested my head against Lachlan's solid strength, that I could just stay there forever. 

He'd been witty and charming all throughout the evening.  He had a quick tongue and an even quicker mind, always ready with a clever comeback or to twist my words around playfully.  He sobered a little at my wistful expression and took my hand in his.  It was warm and strong. 

"I am going to ask you to dance, you know."  He smiled that lopsided smile he has but quickly grew serious once again as his eyes flicked to Terry and Uma.  "But I reckon the first dance belongs to them..." he paused,  "....and I was enjoying having you all to myself.  I just wanted to make the moment last a bit longer."  He squeezed my hand gently and there was such a note of longing in his voice that it tempered the giddy rush I felt at his quiet, heartfelt words.

I squeezed his hand back, wanting to acknowledge his words but still wanting to keep the moment light.  We'd all had enough seriousness for one day.  "Better than rocks, huh?"  I teased softly.

He grinned.  "Or stamps."  The music stopped.  Lachlan looked out to where Terry and Uma were kissing on the dance floor and inclined his head in their direction.  "We did a bang up job, didn't we, love?"  I nodded.  We sure had.  Lachlan's eyes twinkled as the music started back up.  "You reckon we should show them how it's really done?"

He was doing it again, Diary.  Comments within comments.  It could have been a simple offhand remark, but I got the sense he was speaking about more than just a dance.  My breath caught as I put both my hands in his and smiled.  "You lead, I'll follow."  See, he's not the only one who can play that game.  Of course, I felt my color rise even as I said it, but if he was willing to take a risk, so was I.         

Lachlan nodded once and drew me up from my seat.  We took the floor a little shyly but there was no hesitation in the way he touched me and as we began to dance, he held me close.  There's really only one way to describe how it felt, Diary.  Eyes closed, swaying with him gently, palm to palm and heart to heart... it felt like home.  He whispered something to me and when I opened my eyes and followed his gaze, I found Uma watching us with a contented smile on her face.  She was glowing.  And as I watched her with Terry, this time I felt nothing but happiness for her; for them both. 

One song faded away and another began.  We talked softly as we danced, my cheek resting on his shoulder and his lips by my ear.  His hand was warm and solid against the small of my back.  I don't think my feet even touched the ground.  A little while later, I felt a tap on my shoulder and Lachlan gave me a little turn, grinning at me as he handed me off smoothly to Terry and spun Uma away with that infectious smile he has.

The smile Terry had for me was equally as warm.  He touched my throat gently where the pearls would have rested if this had been our night together.  No words.  The simple touch was enough.  We both knew I'd wear them again for him someday.  His smile softened and as he often does when he speaks from the heart, his words were simple and direct.  "Thank you for helping me find my way home, lassie."

I was humbled by his simple admission.  "Anytime, Charlie."  He gently brushed away the tear clinging to my bottom lashes.  I touched his chest, brushing my fingertips over his heart and met his eyes.  He nodded. 

He kissed me then, so softly it brought tears to my eyes and then he put his lips to my ear and whispered, "Curry's a lucky bastard.  I think maybe you were meant to show us both the way home, love."  And then he was gone.  Lachlan's hand found mine and we were both smiling as we watched Terry take Uma's hand and lead her away. 

LACHLAN

Uma's sweet words lingered long after she was gone.  I understood what she was trying to tell me.  I wasn't second best or third best or any other best.  She didn't rank us like horses in a stable.  I was special to her because I was myself.  What beautiful gift of words.  I hope the ones Thorne gave Heather were equally as good.  Her eyes are a little misty, so I reckon they were.

With Uma's words in my mind, I came to another realization.  I thought I knew Thorne pretty well before all this happened.  He's a good bloke, a fair boss.  We'd shared a few pints and more than a few hours in the air together.  He didn't seem like the kind of man who'd allow himself to become lost.  I remembered back to that night on the plane, when he'd first asked me for help with Uma.  He'd looked like complete crap.  A man at the end of his rope. 

I guess he was. 

It was so very different from the way he'd looked tonight in Uma's company.  The smug bastard.  He looked like the cat who'd swallowed the cream.  It was a bit of a surprise to realize that all men could be messed up over a woman, even ones who seemed to have it all sorted, like Thorne.  Gave me hope for the rest of us sorry buggers. 

The music started and I smiled inwardly as I recognized the song, chuckling as I recalled the scene moments before Thorne led Uma from the room.  She'd tugged on his arm as they'd passed the band and she'd dashed over to them, spoke animatedly for a brief moment, found my eyes, blew me a kiss with a cheeky wave and then smiled as Terry caught her up once more and led her away.  I took Heather into my arms and Uma never looked back as the band began to play.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed

For all her flighty exuberance and caustic wit, Uma really is a romantic at heart.  As we turned on the floor, the woman in my arms drove away the thoughts of any others.  She felt so good, small and feminine and graceful.  And as the words came again and they spoke of the ocean, I felt the sense of déjà vu wash over me.

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give fate a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance.  I hope you dance...   

I had held this woman in my arms before.  And I wanted to keep doing so for a very long time.  Uma's message did not go unheard.  I reckon she felt she needed to look after me a bit too after all that had been said and done between us.  No one needed to be pushing me at Heather, though.  I was happily here all on my own.  I wasn't quite sure exactly what it was I felt when I was with her, but I was damn certain I wanted more of it.  I'd had my share of disappointment, but she was quite the loveliest surprise I'd bumped into in a long while and I absolutely did not intend to let her go anytime soon.

In fact, we danced the night away, talking and laughing.  Sometimes saying nothing, only holding each other close as we moved to the music.  We had more wine and split another peach dessert between us as the evening wore on.  I felt so good, so happy inside I found it impossible to keep still.  I'm sure it was quite a sight next to Heather's serene stillness, but I didn't care one whit.  God, what a night. 

I was sorry to see it end.  We held hands in the lift.  I walked her to her door - slowly, to make it last as long as possible.  I could see her pulse beating in the hollow of her throat.  It was fast and erratic like mine.  I knew I was going to kiss her.  My heart pounded in my chest.  Our eyes met.  I touched her arm and stroked the satiny flesh on the inside of her wrist as I lowered my head and kissed her.  Softly, chastely at first and then more deeply as she responded to me.  The rush was incredible.....like freefall.  She tasted of peaches. 

And home.

I broke the kiss reluctantly and bid her a soft goodnight, waiting until she was safely inside her room before I left her.  I didn't walk away.  I floated.  Higher than a bloody kite, mate.  And far, far beyond the surly bonds of earth.  Who'd have thought a day that started so horribly could end so wonderfully?  I really is true.  You never know where life is going to take you from one moment to the next.  And sometimes, like today, that place is better than any dream.     

UMA

The door swung closed, almost silently swinging on its smooth hinges and the thick carpeting. I threw my clutch bag onto the coffee table and my wrap with it, kicking off my shoes and falling into an armchair. I was actually exhausted. Jetlag, tension, excitement and the emotions of the day had left me like a limp rag. I flopped down and watched Terry move across the room through half-closed eyes.

I saw the familiar ritual of his loosening of the conventions of his attire that presages Terry casting off his public face and becoming my man. Hand ripped off the tie and dragged at collar buttons, shoes kicked off and socks thrown after them. Cuff links cast aside, as he sighed a deep mellow tone and stood looking down at me.

I stretched out my legs and touched his bare foot. It felt a sensuous thing to do, my foot encased in silky hose against his bare skin. I looked up at him as he stood towering above me, suddenly serious, an intense smouldering in his eyes, but waiting for me to give him confirmation.

I smiled up. He fell to his knees and burrowed his head against my waist, snuggling up in a curiously intimate, yet un-erotic moment. I ran my hands through his thick hair and bent to kiss him, and for a moment we just stayed like that. It was as if a sacred act was taking place when we each reaffirmed the presence of the other.

And then he lifted his head and his hands came to my shoulders, assertive and in charge. His lips reached for mine and I was absorbed into him, his tongue raking my mouth as he sampled me as if I were a fine wine ready for the tasting. His teeth grazed and pulled at my lips, that tender prelude before his tongue slipped in, and I experienced the old familiar feeling of being lost inside him. His kiss sends me. I folded like a house of cards in his hands. My head lolled to the side as he leant on in against me, exploring my mouth as his hands travelled my body to claim me back.

We kissed long and hard, wet and deep, a vampiric hunger for each other. He held my face in his hands, his head turning right to left as if he couldn't find any part of me that he could bear to miss. Leaning me back against the plush upholstery, his body prone against me, kneeling between my parted legs, he continued his passionate assault. I ruffled up his hair, drew him closer, raised my feet to rest on his hips. We were like kids making out on the couch at home, the kiss enough to fire us for now- the glorious sensation of taste and forbidden intimacy.

The room was dark, lit only by the glow from outside: the lights of the hotel grounds, the neon of the busy streets, the starlit sky and a gleaming moon. We did not speak - no sound except nickers and sighs, gasps and urgent moans. He rested my head back, dragged his fingers seductively down my neck to my throat, the pressure a little more than it should be, a hint of danger in his touch. As he sucked lightly on the soft flesh at the base, I opened my lips and felt the shiver of sound leak out at his touch. His tongue traced a meandering route to my chin, across my face, my nose, my eyelids - his act was erotic and primal, like an animal but tender and caressing, the touch of a lover.

As his face bent down to bury in my neck, I found the lobe of his ear with my tongue, bit, sucked and heard his low groan as I flickered wetly inside his ear. Every part of him seemed to trigger off all my senses- and memory was the key. To be aroused at the thought of what a man might be able to do to you is an aphrodisiac in itself but to know with certainty is the ultimate stimulant.

Resting back on his haunches, he slipped his hands under the hem of my dress and rolled the garment up to my thighs; I lay panting, makeup smeared, lips swollen, beard-burnt, eyes hooded, hair awry, and I observed the slow glide of his palms along my right leg. His fingers interlocked in the lace of my holdup and he peeled it down, pausing to pull it from my foot and toss it away. He repeated the action on my other leg and then held my foot, massaging the sole and raising it to his lips to lick each toe, his eyes making contact with mine. He was as wild-eyed as I felt; my cunt was itchy and hot, moist, almost uncomfortable.

Forcing my right leg up, grateful for my flexibility, he placed a kiss on the back of my knee and then rested my foot upon his shoulder, parting my legs wider. My sex twitched beneath his gaze. His fingers smoothed along my inner thigh, his breathing changing and deepening as he neared the apex. Running his forefinger beneath the flimsy silk, he brushed my naked, dripping flesh, shook slightly at the sensation and then raised his sticky finger to his lips, and sucked lewdly, his tongue languidly rolling along the length. I gasped as his action displayed his naked desire for me, an intoxicating combination of need and command. He was about to take me.

With a sudden movement, taking me by surprise after the languor of his earlier advances, he leaned forward, unzipped and eased down the bodice of my cocktail dress, lowering and pushing the soft fabric down my body until I lay exposed to the waist. I rarely wear a bra these days; he dislikes them if the truth was told, and I don't really need the support. He enjoys the sight of the soft natural fall of a breast and the outline of a nipple beneath fabric, sees no reason to hide that beneath padding and satin or lace. His purring growl reflected his pleasure to see my naked flesh.

He feasted on me- it is the only way to describe his attention to my breasts- somewhere between adoration and possession as his hands and his mouth described his passion in an eloquent and earthy elegy.

One hand broke free to rip the dress down and pull off my underwear. I was lying naked and he was fully dressed; that seemed to me very erotic and somehow significant - although I wasn't sure of what. He took my hands and hauled me forward, tossing me to the floor, not un-gently but there was a roughness that is not usually there in his lovemaking. I rose to my knees, began to undo his buttons, but he batted my hand away softly and undressed quickly, shrugging off his shirt and ripping down the zip of his pants to cast them away from him in a heap. He wanted me passive; he wanted to be aggressive. I will love him any way he chooses.

He stood to remove his shorts; I knelt and kissed him as his cock bounced free of restraints; he was hot and moist against my cheek; I ran my tongue down the underside and paid homage to his balls, hanging down, heavy and hard, tight with desire. For a time he let me tend him, ran his hands in my hair, grunted with satisfaction but he soon tired of that and eased me from him. Sinking to his knees and then onto his forearms, he lowered me to the floor and then lay over me, staring down, muscles tensed, cock erect, the epitome of predatory masculinity where I was the trembling prey, hypnotised in his intense gaze, helpless beneath his will. I reached a hand out to stroke him; his head rolled back as he allowed me access and I guided him into me.

Hands over mine, our breath syncopated, he bathed his head in my wetness and then pushed until he slipped slightly inside. A pause, eyes raised to me, a muscle tic in his cheek showing his struggle to control, and then a deep lunge- my cry, his grunt, then the slide out and he held ... to repeat the invasion over and over until I was writhing and moaning at the sensation.

My legs wrapped round him, my hands clutched his buttocks, forcing him, with the little strength I had, to stay deeper within me and to hit that place at the neck of my womb where I might hurtle over into nothingness with him. I felt the clenching of his butt, the tensing and relaxing of his spine as he thrust and my own sychronicity as I rose against his action and tightened around his hard cock. Each action sent spasms through both of us, shock waves that resounded through every nerve and sinew. I could feel the gathering of sexual energy as if it were a force of nature about to be unleashed.

Just as I thought he must come and I with him, he pulled out, left his cock poised on my labia, took my hand and placed it on my clitoris. "Do it." The first words he had spoken since entering the room. I masturbated as he watched and jerked himself into me, not fully sheathed but in and out, a shallow motion but one that must have stimulated his sensitive head; he hissed at the effort to hold back. The sight of him was enough to make me come but the feel of his entry and my own touch was the final straw, I burst out of my skin, bucked and felt him thrust down hard, groaning as the rhythm of my orgasm tightened my walls to bear down on him and drive him over.

His hands seized my hips, pulled me at an angle, yanked my legs over his shoulders and he fucked me hard, sweat dripping from him as he sought his own release. I felt the moment, saw his back arch, felt his cock lunge and pulse deep within, and the jerking shudder; he came, slumping on top of me as a further orgasm gripped me. It was as if I had been regenerated; that I am only truly alive when he is inside me.

The silence deepened; even his groaning breath eased to a whisper as we lay on the floor, the mist clearing. We had not even made the bed. My eyes began to recognize where I was: the ceiling, the chair, the man buried inside me, the balcony beyond with its pale shaft of light illuminating the silvery form of his naked back and shoulders and no doubt me, too. Silvery light. A thought flashed through my mind and I turned my head slightly to catch the source. The moon. Lachlan. I smiled and uttered a silent prayer that he was at peace tonight under that same moon.

"Penny for them?" Terry suddenly spoke, his head now raised to observe me, fingers idly playing with my hair as his cock slipped from me and rested between us.

Our eyes locked. Sometimes you can be too truthful. "I was thinking how much I love you." I didn't really lie. That's what it was all about in the final analysis and why I cared so much for Lachlan. He has allowed me to find love and courage and hope again.

Terry sat up and raised me tenderly, taking a towel that was lying on the cupboard and wiping me down before doing the same for himself. We stood up and staggered to the bathroom, grinning at the sight of ourselves and the mess of our discarded clothes. Slowly conversation returned and we began to talk quietly as we washed, brushed our teeth and peed. I watched him as he moved around and he caught my glance and winked.

"Come on...bed. You have to be tired. If you don't sleep now jet lag will catch you and you'll be driving me mad all night. "He slapped my bum playfully and followed me through to the room, pulling me back to pick me up in his exuberant way and throw me on the bed. I giggled; he rolled me out of the way and jumped under the covers. I snuggled down next to him and we settled down.

Sleep claimed him quickly, as it always does, while I was restless, animated and time- confused. Propped up on the pillows, I let myself drift while he adjusted his position and wrapped himself around my body, head on my breasts, face relaxed and carefree, breathing deep and low. I smiled; he'd be snoring soon. Peace. Calm. Still.

TERRY

The jarring ring of a phone jolted me back from somewhere very pleasant. I rolled on my side, disengaging myself from Tink's body (something equally pleasant) and answered.

"Good morning. Mr. Thorne. Your six-thirty alarm call. Have a nice day." I slammed the phone down and swung my legs onto the floor, rubbing my bleary eyes and running my hands over my hair, yawning. Ripping the sheet from me, I glanced at my morning rush of blood and turned back to Tink who was unconscious, head under a pillow. She needed to sleep as much as I wanted to wake her up and say good morning. She loves wake up sex - she loves sex - but ...I had to let her sleep, or her system would be out all day. And I had things to do. Ever the good boy. Duty called.

Stumbling to the bathroom, shit, shave and shower, dress - all without thinking- one last look at temptation lying all warm, soft and smelling of sex and French perfume in my bed and I picked up my case. I chanced a kiss; she stirred and mumbled, "Love you." Her naked breast lay exposed, I brushed my thumb over it softly, saw the rose-pink peak form and watched her languid movement as she writhed instinctively, but she slept on. My dick moved into position at the sight of her naked and lovely, innocent and sleep-soaked; I stood up and adjusted, willing it to give up hope. Sometimes it actually does what it's told.

As I left, I let the door click softly and strode down to the elevator. I checked my watch. 7.15. Pressing the button for the 8th floor, I wandered down the corridor until I found his room and my hand went to ring the doorbell. Momentarily I paused. Would he be alone? I reckoned so. If not, he would be in her room. That would be his style. I pressed.

Nothing for a while. I pressed again. He was probably asleep or not there. Couple of seconds more and I would give up...

"Yeah...?" Curry dragged open the door, scratching himself, a towel wrapped round his waist.

"Sorry, mate, did I wake you?"

He looked at me, sardonically. "No...I always get up at dawn when I'm not working. Especially after doing an all-night flight. No worries, mate. Not a problem." He snapped back.

I grinned. "Good, then...let's get some work done. I've a few things I want to go over with you. I'm due at a meeting out of town at ten, so I've no time to fartarse about waiting for you to get your beauty sleep."

Lachlan groaned. "You pick your moments, Boss. Come in." I stepped into the darkened room and took a seat on the armchair; he pulled back the curtains and winced at the light pouring in.

"You and me both." He looked at me curiously. "Pick our moments, I mean. You yesterday morning and me today..." I waved a hand at him, a bit embarrassed now that I had raised that issue again.

"I was asleep, mate, not having at some girl. Slight difference." Curry responded warily.

I acknowledged. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. Just me being flippant. Heather got back to her room all right?"

He turned away from me to pick up a pair of jeans. "Yeah... safe and sound...and I got back to mine. Last night. Satisfied?" He turned round, dropped the towel and slung on the jeans. I think he was making a little point. Not so little, either. But I'm too much of a macho man to mention that, of course.

Zipping up with a flourish, he threw himself down on the sofa opposite me in the small lounge and held his hands out. "Okey dokey. What's up, boss?"

I cleared my throat. "I take it you've made arrangements to fly back tomorrow?"

"Yeah. 10 a.m. Logged a route to Seattle. Bloody long way. Got a couple of refuels. Narita and Hawaii. That all? Should I do the stopover and return for you?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm running behind schedule with one thing and another. There've been a few glitches and I need a while longer with this team. Tink wants to stay a couple of days but she can jump BA back to London direct from here, no problem. I was thinking..." I could see myself fidgeting; Tink always knocks my hand away when I do it, like I'm a bit of a kid. But my hands were rubbing my face, playing with the scar, ruffling up my hair. Mum said I was a restless baby. Wouldn't take a pacifier. Couldn't settle down. Always jigging about.

"I was thinking...take a bit of a break Stateside. You've been on the go for weeks and you did the London trip for me when you should have had some downtime..."

"I didn't regard that as work, Mr. Thorne." Lachlan replied tartly, his lips pressed together.

I was aware I'd fucked that one up. "I know it wasn't work but it was throwing a great responsibility at you..."

"I stayed because I like her. Not because I was employed to do so. It was no hardship. Believe me." He smiled, reminding me that he had received more than a pat on the back for his trouble, but I wasn't fooled. He isn't that kind of bloke.

"Look...I'm making a fucking mess of this, Curry. Let's start again. I asked you a big favour because I was scared she was going to hurt herself. I just wanted someone, anyone, to be with her while I was away. Somehow I reckoned you had the right touch. I was more than right. You didn't just keep an eye on her. You turned a very important corner with her. I appreciate what you did." It wasn't easy to say - I don't do emotional heart-to-hearts with other blokes as a matter of course. If it's part of my job to be there for some guy...so be it...but this was different. This was personal.

Lachlan looked surprised, sat up, leaned forward, wriggled in his seat a bit. "It was my pleasure, Terry...I mean...Christ. I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean it to sound like I was being a clever dick..." He was uncomfortable now at his clumsy wording. We were both walking on eggshells.

I grinned. "Not taken that way, mate. Look, I have to say this now. I won't ever say it again, mind. I owe you more than I can ever repay. I was losing her and you gave her back to me. Don't know what the fuck you did and I don't think I want to know but, mate, this was something really big in my life and I couldn't sort it out. I also appreciate that she means a lot to you. I'm sorry if I've stepped on your toes inadvertently. She'll see you again; I know she will. I reckon she really wants that and...I'll support her all the way."

It was a bloody difficult speech and I decided to get out before I rambled on anymore. I was getting voluble- always a sure sign I was beyond my comfort zone. I reached a hand out. "Thanks, mate. Anything I can ever do- just ask. I mean it. I will be there for you."

We shook hands. "Uma's alright then?" he asked tentatively.

"More than alright. Flat out and snoring. But as good as she's been in a long time. Or as bad - which is by far a better sign." We both laughed. "Hey, mate. Heather. Special woman. Very special," I paused and thought, tongue between my teeth, "She's unattached. Hasn't chosen yet. Could do worse than you. Give it a thought.. Take it easy today...maybe a bit of sun and sand with a Sister? Now there's an idea..." I rolled my eyes suggestively and he smiled.

Picking up my attache case and strolling to the door I turned back to him:  "I'll see myself out. Cheers, mate. Buy you a drink in the bar tonight? Around seven? G'day, mate." I nodded and left the room, making my way down to breakfast. I reckoned I deserved something substantial to eat after that. That went rather better than it might have done. Pretty crap for a negotiation. Pretty sound for a climb down with a bloke you nearly slugged twenty-four hours ago. Checked my watch. 7-45. Breakfast? Wonder if she's awake yet? No, let her sleep. Breakfast. Need the calories if Tink is back on form. Last night. Jesus Christ. She nearly killed me. What a fucking way to go! Literally.