A comedian I heard once said that shopping is a woman's sport, like hunting is a man's. Personally, I prefer the latter but the former is certainly Uma's forte. Hunting is quiet, a peaceful activity that I always used to afford myself time to think out my troubles while at the same time bringing in the next meal. My guards berated me because I would slip out alone in the early morning and wander deep into the forest by myself to sit patiently for hours, musing while waiting for my prey. I can hear you modern girls wailing now that some poor, innocent animal had to sacrifice its life for some silly country's problems. But while sitting for hours with only the comfort of solitude and silence never tires me, constantly flitting from one store to another with Uma the Hurricane did. She thinks better in motion while I prefer stillness.

When I think on it though, I realize that Uma uses her shopping for the same reasons that I hunted. Her trophies are bargains but the thrill of the hunt is the fun of finding them. And for her, it enabled her to forget her troubles or be distracted from them while she spent money that never seemed to run out. Terry, in a last ditch effort to provide for her, deposited a goodly amount of funds into her account. I overheard when she told Arthur that if he was going to do for her what she resented so; she was going to waste it until it ran out completely. Of the few things that I actually disagreed with Uma on regarding Terry's actions and reactions, that was one of them. I saw no reason to waste the money. Do not use it but do not abuse it either, I told her. I got a glare in return.

Finally she got frustrated with Arthur and me, both of us having been raised with a keen sense for business and money, and left with Cort after muttering about last of the big spenders or some such. Arthur suggested catching a movie but I dragged him back into Versace with me to buy the green (could I call it a dress with a straight face?) object that Uma had held up for me to see. She had been disappointed that I would not try on for her to judge me in and elaborate for eternities of minutes on accessories and such to make it stand out. The simple truth is: I wanted Maximus to be the first to see it on me because I liked it very much and wanted to wear it for him as well as for myself. Arthur looked at me as if I had grown two heads when he saw what I pulled from the rack.

"Bou, have you actually seen the price tag?"

"Yes, I have and yes, I can read it."

"I can't watch."

"Then go outside and wait for me. But I am going to buy it and I will wear it sometimes."

He tapped my bicep, which features a faded, almost indistinguishable depiction of my first boar. "It'll show off your tattoos."

"Max has seen me naked so he already knows they are there."

"What about your scars?" I looked at him for long seconds, formulating my answer. All right, I will confess. I have been observing Uma, looking for what grabbed Maximus' interest so much since that first evening in Beaumaris while she got ready for dinner. Aside from the tattoo, she is flawless. That struck me as she moved about the room, completely unabashed by her own nudity. It bothered me nothing that she was; though I am more modest in my own ability to reveal my body. And much of that is due to the scars that Arthur, in all his youthful insensitivity, chose to bring up. It was a slap in the face, a reminder that I am physically imperfect and therefore not fit for revealing clothing. Especially from a boy that generally is not particular about what body he is offered. If my scars are off-putting to him, what must those who have a bit more room to pick and choose think? I replaced the dress and walked out, much to the disappointment of the salesgirl who called out a thank you as we left.

But then I turned to Arthur and fixed him with a hard stare. "You know what?"

"Er, what?" Fish-eyed and pale, he took two steps back.

"I earned every single one of my scars. And you know what else?" He did not get a chance to sound off. "I want it." Leaving him dumbstruck in my wake, I marched right back into Versace and even left the girl a hefty tip. Arthur blessedly kept his mouth shut until we got to the hotel and went to our separate rooms.

"Do you think Cort and Uma are going to come to the bar and have drinks with us?" His gaze was drawn toward their room, and I think I saw a bit of forlorn longing there. The night before, he had been king of Uma's bed, the next he was again set aside for an older, more masculine man. And one that does not bring to mind images of a younger Terry.

A maid came out of one room, and I glanced at my watch. They were turning down the beds early. "No. If Uma is anything with Cort the way the rest of us are, she didn't last beyond the door. They'll be oblivious for hours. I think it will be just you and me." Reaching inside my own door, I pulled the Do Not Disturb sign. "Meet me down there in half an hour; I have to do a couple things."

After hastily sliding the note for Uma and Cort under their door, I went back to my room and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror. Pulling the dress from its bag, I held it up against myself, admiring its contrast to my skin and hair. It was a good color for me, I knew before Uma ever shouted it across the store. Stripping down to nothing, I pulled it on and gazed at it. The scars were actually barely visible below the hemline and on the sides. It felt good on me. Sensuous and daring. And I knew exactly where I would wear it when I wore it for Max. The tickle in my stomach at the idea of Maximus' reaction to it was welcome but he was thousands of miles away and I had to meet Arthur. I would get the sensation back when next I wore the dress. Reluctantly I peeled it off, storing it carefully away in my suitcase along with the other thing I bought for Maximus as his birthday present. And no, since he reads my diaries, I will not divulge what it is.

Speaking of surprises. "Guess who's coming?" Arthur fairly yelled across the bar at me as I wove among tables to get to him.

"Love, I hear better than Terry does and he has the hearing of a dog. Who is coming?" As if I did not already know. There was only one other person scheduled to be in London at the same time we were. A gnawing, uneasy feeling stole over my stomach. Arthur means well. But I wish now I had stayed with him rather than taking those few precious moments for myself. Not that I think Arthur needs a babysitter, but he certainly needs someone to think through a situation carefully. Certainly one in which Terry and Uma could possibly show up in the same room at the same time. With Cort present. Looking for all the world as if he has just rolled out of Uma's bed and has a personal grudge against Terry for something pertaining to another person altogether.

Somewhere in the room I stood apart from my own body and watched in morbid fascination as events unfolded.  Here is a history lesson for you. In the feasting halls of my people, we would calmly eat our dinner while men fairly murdered each other for choice portions or something as simple as being looked at in a wrong manner. If anyone ended up dead, the carcass would be dragged out and we would just go on eating as if nothing happened. We used to think it funny when we had Roman guests and they got to witness it.

But this was nothing close to humorous. The challenge from Terry to Cort was plain and Cort instinctively went for the bait. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Arthur moving to step between them and restrained him with a hand on his shoulder as Uma begged Cort not to rise to Terry's invitation. He sat back, deflated and uncertain. I knew my feet were planted to push me up and away from my spot because Uma's slight form and lack of fighting skills would be no use if they did indeed start throwing punches. Thank the gods Cort, even when pushed to his limits, still sees reason. And like Uma, I could see the situation from Terry's viewpoint and wanted to shake Arthur for getting the idea in his head to begin with. Then I saw myself impassively studying them all, aching for each one for different reasons as everyone went their separate ways to lick wounds that were reopened or newly scratched into weary souls that could no longer see the solutions.

No war, no political upheaval teaches you what you should feel or do when it is your own family falling apart in front of your very eyes. I wanted to help them all at the same time, but had to choose order of importance.  Uma had Cort. They could console each other for the time being. Arthur needed me most but Terry was moving fast and I needed to make sure he did nothing stupid to himself or to anyone else. I caught up to him at the elevator and pushed through the closing doors. His eyes followed the changing numbers as we rode up but would not meet mine. When we reached his floor, he held the door back while I stepped out then led me to his room.

Perching on the sofa, I looked about, catching the telltale signs of a man at work. Buried in it. Stacks of newspapers from around Europe lined the wall neatly, from the west wall to the east. Most were from Spain. I made a mental note to call down for the laundry service to come up and get the pile of suits and assorted items that had been thrown in a corner of the bathroom when he got in at nights. And it killed me to see the empty pizza and Chinese take-out cartons lying about, as well as beer bottles and coffee mugs in a normally immaculate person's living quarters. I could not help it. I got up and started collecting the containers to throw them in the trash.

Terry searched about in a cupboard for a bottle and brandished Southern Comfort at me. "Want some?"

"Only one."

"Stop what you're doing and come share it with me."

"This place is a pigsty. Call housekeeping."

"Too fucking nosy. Can't trust them." He motioned to the stacks of dossiers on the desk next to his laptop. "Can't lug those with me everywhere."

"Why aren't they in a file cabinet in your office?"

"Still getting the office together. One thing at a time."

"Meaning you don't really have one, is that it?" I finished tying the trash bags shut and set them outside the door for the maids to pick up on their morning rounds. Washing my hands, I studied him from the sink, his handsome profile worn from the cares of the world weighing his shoulders down. The bottle was tipping back, several times in quick succession, while he drowned his emotions and memories.  The lines on his forehead deepened and relaxed with every shot.

"It means I have the space, I just don't have all the furnishings yet. But don't worry, you'll have a chair to sit on while we talk tomorrow."

"I wasn't worried."

"Come sit down. Have a drink. Tell me what the fuck is going on." He waved the bottle. "I don't bite."  He grinned. "Unless you ask me nicely, mate." I rolled my eyes at him then curled up at the end of the sofa, accepting the Southern from his hand and took a long swallow before handing it back to him. He offered it again but I shook my head. One of us was going to remain sober and in control of their senses and I decided it should be me.

"Where the fuck did I go wrong?" It was difficult to discern if he was really addressing me or wondering out loud.

"Well, you didn't handle that scene particularly well." I left it open to interpretation, which scene I meant.

"Don't start, Bou. I could use some support. I'm sick of everyone taking Uma's side in this."

"I'm not taking either side. You asked where you went wrong and I told you."

"I meant about the entire relationship. One day she's happy as hell to be with me, the next, she's fucking every man in sight but me. All I wanted was for her to move here with me. She's here for Arthur, for Cort, for you, and if Max gave her the word she'd meet him here, too. Everyone but me. Is it too much to ask that I get to have her with me, take care of her, know she's waiting for me when I get in at night?"

"No, it isn't. It's the way you sprung it on her, though. You didn't give her much of a say in it."

"I was trying to surprise her."

"Well, you succeeded. Just not how you planned to."

"Don't beleaguer the obvious."

"Look Terry, you told her to make a huge decision instead of leading her into it. Give her a call. You're going through a bad patch right now. Go get her and take her away before we start the job. Show her the place you want to live with her. Try it again."

"Like you and Max are trying it again?"

"Leave him out of this. We are talking about you and Uma. I can handle my own relationship or lack thereof."

"I miss her so fucking much."

"Then go tell her!"

"She's with Cort."

"Quit making excuses and call her. She'd rather be with you."

"I'll call her in the morning. Give her another few hours to calm down."

"And yourself. Besides, you're drunk." I grabbed for the bottle but his reflexes are quick, even when he is inebriated. I fell face first into his lap. Much to Terry's delight.

"Interested?" His fingers were tangling in my hair and trailing over my shoulders. And under my cheek, his interest was certainly evident. I will not lie. The massaging of my backside was quite the turn-on, from the master of the zipless orgasm. "C'mon. Old times' sake and all that. Last hurrah before I become Mr. Thorne." It was tempting. It felt so good to be touched and fondled. Between Cort's presence all day, and the daydreams I was having while trying on my new purchase, the idea of taking Terry up on his offer was almost more than I could deny my rebellious body. But rationale kicked in.

I had gone on a job with him once before. He needed the money and took an independent case, the details of which I am not at liberty to share. He had no crew so he hired me to assist him when he went to pick up his client. At that time it was strictly business. We were new to one another and his mind was completely on the job. There was no fooling about, there was no sex talk or innuendo. Our safety was his primary concern. Only when it was over was there any personal contact and play. And at that time my employment had been a one-time-only arrangement.

After coming back with his friend Dino and asking me to work for him on a permanent basis, the tone of his emails changed. There has been an underlying note of suggestion, as well as a familiarity that is incongruous with the businessman and soldier I have known him to be. And if that was not enough to convince me, then reading the words of others and his endeavors to play them off one another and the irresponsibility he had been displaying did.  Maximus confirmed what I already knew when I showed him the mails that something was not quite right, and his worry grew. But my friend was in trouble and was either unaware or ignoring it. So I took the job anyway. I love Terry. And I owed him for saving me when I could no longer see that I needed it. In order to do that, I need to keep myself free from any influence that could cloud my ability to think clearly. And sex with Terry is certainly a good way to lose focus.

Propping myself up on an elbow, I half turned and glanced up to him. "Sorry Mr. Thorne, but definitely not a good idea if we intend to keep a stable working relationship."

"You don't work for me until tomorrow. We're still friends tonight." His fingers slid under the hem of my skirt, exploring toward my pussy already starting to throb against the cushion of the sofa where I lay. I dared not move and give him any quarter to tease and play or I would not be able to leave. His other hand played with my curls, surreptitiously maneuvering my head closer to his turgid cock, suggesting, asking me to take him in my mouth and let him have his way. His eyes pleaded need with me while I weighed my ability to walk away without tasting him. "Stay with me. I need you."

"I won't."

"Honey, when's the last time you were rooted good and proper? I don't want wank myself off and I don't think you do, either." He had found what he was looking for and began spreading the wetness over and through the valley between my thighs, and I hovered between rigid self-control and falling into the abyss of sensuality and sex. But in the end my brain won out over my body's torture, and I stepped back from the edge of my own desire. He was my friend's lover and he was hurting for her. He would still be disappointed, no matter if I stayed or went.

"Then I tell you what. You go seduce Uma, and I'll get Cort out of there. Deal?" I was on the floor so fast, I was not sure if I had fallen or been thrown from him. I suspected the latter.

"Fuck you, Bou."

"Terry, think. You don't want me in the first place. You've been looking for a surrogate ever since you broke up. Go work it out with her."

"Go fuck yourself, you cock-teasing cunt. No wonder Max is calling up the other girls. At least they put out." That hurt. It hurt right to the core, regardless if I understood the rejected feeling behind it. But it was the second time in the same twenty-four hour period that a man had reminded me that I do not measure up to other women. Arthur had said it without meaning to. Terry's eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing when he gazed at me steadily, daring me to respond in kind. It was the proverbial last straw.

"You fucking prick. I'm trying to make you see reason." I slammed the door on my way out, cutting off the string of stuttered oaths and threats issuing from within his room. Terry sported a cut on his neck for a week where my ring caught it when I hit him while I got a sprained hand from giving it to him.

In my rage, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps I should have let Terry do himself in had he been so inclined, and should have just attended to Arthur. Oh gods. Of all of us in this little comedy of errors, he was the one who was hurt most and had been abandoned or forgotten by everyone he trusted and looked up to. And if I knew my young friend, he was blaming himself needlessly. His mistake was only in being the catalyst for the storm already brewing.

"Oh, it's you," he whispered as he widened the door for me to pass.

"Who did you think it would be?" I smiled then frowned when I caught sight of the used tissues piled in the trash can beside his bed.

"Terry, come to tell me what an inconsiderate wanker I am," he sniffed.

"He's an even bigger wanker than you will ever be able to be." Perching next to him on the bed, I slung an arm over his shoulders and squeezed.

"Is he all right?"

"He'll live."

"I feel so rotten, Bou."

"Why, love? It's not your fault really."

"They'll blame me. 'Arthur never thinks. He's so innocent...'"

"No, they will not. They only have themselves to answer for all the trouble going on. It was an accident. Terry is a friend and you wanted to see him. Had I thought you might call him, I would have suggested a different place to meet him or to do it another night. But it happened. It was bad luck and bad timing. Terry will get over it and he will still be your friend. Uma will get over it and realize what the real problem was and still want to shag you silly. Cort doesn't blame you in the least. But most of all, you shouldn't blame yourself." And if any of them did, they would answer to me for it, but I did not add that.

"I just wanted to set things right. I hate it that they aren't getting along."

"So does everyone. We all want to help. But in the end they have to do it themselves. We can only go so far for them. All right?" He nodded, though he still looked so glum.

He would bounce back but he would at least learn the lesson. And that is what sets him apart from his older brothers. He learns, and he does it without hurting anyone needlessly. The older men do not always see that about him, but I know that is part of his attraction for those of us women who have shared our beds and hearts with him. And it is why I feel a little protective of him and consider him my family.

I have no idea why I did it. Never will I hurt Arthur's feelings or lead him falsely. Perhaps it was not necessary to explain to him why I chose, when he laid his head on my shoulder, to lie back on the bed with him and let him nuzzle and touch and explore. I suppose one could accuse me of taking advantage of his heartache and using him for my own pent-up lust.  Maybe they are right. But with Arthur, there is no need to keep my guard and there was no worry for him regarding my motives for staying in his bed a while. You know, I don't remember him being quite that good at it the last time I had sex with that boy. Amazing.

My first thought when I woke to the sound of ringing was that perhaps it was Terry telling me not to bother meeting him that morning to negotiate job parameters and salary, that he had changed his mind. And to be truthful, after the night before I might not have been sorry for several reasons. But the voice that greeted me had Texan flavor in it and sweetly drawled in my ear, "Mornin', sunshine. If you're hungry, I'll take you to breakfast. Little pancake house across the street. But you have to beat Uma's record of three hours in order to get it free."

"Good morning, leannan. I'll see that three hours and raise you a half."

"Done." The smile was in his voice when he hung up, and I jumped out of bed to hurriedly dress and shower. I am unable to resist an invitation from Cort. I never will be, no matter how our relationship has changed.  I think Maximus is either resigned to it or finally can see that while I choose him for my life and soul's mate, there is a bond with Cort that will always exist and we may forever act upon. It does not always involve sex, but there is always a passion and draw between our souls when we are near each other. While I had no cause to anticipate getting a few moments with him to myself, I did hope for them. The gods must love me. Before I went off to meet with Terry that day, they sent me an angel of light and love to help guide me on my way. And with him he carried the blessings of husband and friends.

His grin as I sneaked up to him and blew across the back of his neck was as wide as his home state. Spinning me into his embrace, he rubbed my nose with his own and held me close for a few seconds. I could feel the weariness in his arms and his shoulders. He needed to go home. Taking my hand, he led me out of the hotel and across the street. There was no pressure for anything except to share quiet time together.

The place was empty but for us, and we chose a booth in the corner where the Venetian blinds were drawn up, allowing the sun to bathe us in warmth and light. Sitting across from each other, we felt at home in the quaint little eatery with its Formica tables and syrup bottles and packets of jelly waiting for the pancakes and sausage he ordered and my bacon and fruit and toast.

"Did you tell Uma?" I asked as he spooned cream into his coffee then sugar. His response was a raising of his eyebrow and a grin; both could have meant anything. I rolled my eyes. They meant 'no'.

"And how are you?" He took a sip of coffee and leaned across the table on his elbows. I poured honey in my tea, not answering right away.

"Sleepy." I smiled brightly at him, hoping I could convince him I really was all right. I was more worried for him anyway.

"Not sleeping good? You look tired."

"Well, let's see..."

"Ah, we keeping you up? Sorry darling." He was not. The twinkle in the ocean eyes said he had got laid and I had not. But there was no reason to brag that I was not exactly getting my virginity back anytime soon, either.

"I have already punched my boss-to-be because he wouldn't take no for an answer and spent a part of my night convincing Arthur it wasn't really his fault what happened. No, I didn't hear you and Uma." I was three doors down the hall anyway.

"You punched Terry? Oh, lord." He hid his smile in the sip he took of his coffee. "Well, how was it? Feel better?"

"Not really. I have to negotiate my employment with him this morning. How was your night?"

"Quiet. We took care of each other, but I'm going home."

"Good. I think that would be best. Don't let it fester and scab. It only gets harder to stop the scarring."  Like so many, he was still coming to grips with his own impressions of the portals.  And between us, we both understood that faith was not always enough to get us through. 

"I was tempted to go elsewhere..." I knew where he meant. Far be it from me to cut off burgeoning relationships but as far as I was concerned, if he went to another lover, the schism that threatened his love would only become harder to bridge. "But no more secrets. They're no good." He stared into his cup, far from England to a place only he could see. Gently I stroked the shadow of whiskers covering the cleft of his chin and his strong jaw then tipped his face to meet my gaze.

"No, they are not. Go home first. Heal the wounds while they are still fresh."

"How is Max?" My turn to divulge secrets and he was searching. Every once in a while an email turns up from his box to mine, assuring me that he never stops thinking about me, worrying and wanting me despite his recent acquaintances. But there is enough on his plate that I wanted him to go home with the idea that things will work out for me.

"So far as I know, pampered beyond belief."

"Lucky him." Was he bitter? I could not tell. Will we ever come back to a place where we forgive all the horrible things we have said and done to one another within the circle of our family since the portals opened?  "You two talking the divorce over still?"

"Actually, aside from Beltane when we IM'd, I haven't spoken with him."

"But Beltane was healing for you?"

I flashed him a mysterious smile. "I had nothing left to give you when you got me later, remember? But yes, I think so. We'll see what happens. Just when I think things are getting better, something always messes it up."

"I'll pray for you. You have too much love to give up on each other."

"Thank you, leannan. And you know I will keep the gods supplicated for you." The server brought our breakfast and more coffee for him. We left off talk as we added and fixed our plates to our pleasure.

"It takes work," Cort continued around a mouthful of pancake.

I chewed a slice of bacon thoughtfully while I considered his admonition. "Yes, I know. I'm willing. But I think he needs to work out things with Uma before he is ready to truly be mine again."

He sighed in exasperation. "I think you're right. Give them the space to do what they must. Not that Uma will admit it. She's still running."

"I have. She won't face her demons. But the minute she does Max will go to her. I have no illusions."

"It's too soon. But she promised me she would call Terry, talk to him. That's a start, I guess." He glanced toward the hotel.

"Good," I agreed. "I hope he takes her up on it."

While he watched me spread jam on my toast slowly due to the difficulty I had with my wrist, he whispered, "Bou, I'm worried about you and this job."

"Why? I'm a warrior and I was a judge. Dealt with treaty negotiations many times. This is nothing."

"It's not you, it's Terry. He's not himself."

"Tell me about it." My sarcasm was as thick as the jam. He took the knife and the packet out of my hands and finished the job for me with a frown directed at my hand.

"I don't know if I should tell you or not, but Max asked me to speak to you as well.  Shocked the hell out of me. But we're in agreement on this. Something's not right with Terry; he's just so scattered."

"Yes, I do know. I already felt the change in his emails. I don't think I need to tell you what is wrong. We've all been feeling it since we came home."

"No, we know too well." He let out another sigh and went back to his own plate. Then, "I trust you, but how can you trust him with this job? I just don't want to see you hurt. I have a bad feeling. And this," he tenderly rubbed my wrist, "just makes it worse."

"Well, if it weren't for the sexual intent in his words, I think I could. Cort, when I am at work, I am not a lover or even a friend. My concentration is on the job only."

"Don't I know it," he teased. He still has not forgiven me for our last visit.

"When I went with him before, I felt no worry. All I can do is promise I will be careful. But I can give you no guarantees. It's dangerous, and I will be in the field."

"So why are you going now? Do you feel like you need to look after him?"

"Between you and me, I feel responsible for what is going on. The ripples from Max' and my troubles have gotten wider and are drowning others. I have to try to get Terry to see it, too. I owe him that."

"You're no help to a drowning man if he takes you down with him, Bou."

"I have to try, though."

"I don't want to lose you, honey."

"He did it for me, and I never wanted to come back. You have a wife to think about first, before you start getting paranoid about my end. I have to leave my fate to the gods."

"God will watch over you. Just be careful. And know how much Maximus needs you, how much I need you, all of us."

There is only so much assurance I can give that I will keep my head about me and be on guard constantly. I had to keep faith that Terry, once we were alone and working, would be more focused on what lay ahead of us than on our relationship. "I will remember. I will be careful."

"That's what I like to hear."

"You know it's only to keep you off my back, don't you?" I smiled devilishly.

"I'll take what I can get. I've always been your puppy dog, you know that. I love you, darlin'."

"I love you, leannan." Silken words from that sweet mouth make me crazy. I think he does it on purpose. Toeing out of my shoe, I slid a foot over his boot and along the sensitive inner part of his calf and thigh to find purchase on my second favorite part of his anatomy. "You'll just take however much?"

"Oh, Jesus," he moaned and I thought he was going to lose his coffee.

"Yes, well," I picked up my toast as if nothing unseemly was taking place, "you belong with your lover."

"And sometimes I belong with you." His fingers closed over my toes and massaged them against his hardening cock. I felt the heat of it all the way up my own leg and into the place begging for him to fill it. This was going to be a long breakfast.

"Soon, my dear one," I breathed and tried to gulp back my tea.

"Not soon enough for me, baby."

"What color are your balls again?" I leered, but he laughed.

"They're pretty healthy right now, thanks to Uma." When I was freshly home from the portals and Max had gone off on another visit, I had no desire for another man. Cort and I had spent three days talking- well, he had; I had listened. I had not wanted to see anyone, and Maximus had been displeased with the visit despite the fact that it was devoid of physical contact.

"Good. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it better when last we saw each other."

"I'll never forgive you until you do, either." He glared at me, in imitation of his gunslinger look as Arthur calls it.

"Shall I beg clemency of you, Father?"

"You never have to beg me; just give me the look and I'll come running." He slipped another piece of his breakfast into his mouth and his tongue peeked out to catch the syrup. What look was he talking about? Oh, that look...

"Don't tempt me. Or as you say to me, "Get thee behind me..." And that was a most pleasant idea.

"Not the devil, just a weak sinner," his grin reminded me of the evil one of the Christians regardless. "Bedroom's just across the street."

"It's Uma's visit."

Another exasperated sigh. "All right darlin'.  Next time, though. You save me something sweet in the meantime."

"Well, you'll find salvation in someone's lucky arms, I'm sure. I have time to think about ways to lead you astray. I think after all your latest lovers, you won't have strength for me anyway."

"I always have reserves for you. Eat your breakfast." His was almost gone. I watched as he took the last bite of his pancakes.

"Do you know what I can do with that syrup?" I asked off-handedly. He choked but his eyes were more strangled with want.

"What are you trying to do to me? And yes, my balls are now blue, thank you very much. I hope you're happy."

"Lighten your mood. It's good to know I still have my touch."

"Always," he purred as I stroked his hard-on with the pads of my toes through his jeans.

"What are you eating?" Done with his food, he wanted more, and I eat little in the mornings.

"Bacon and strawberries." He slipped a piece of bacon off my plate. The English make the best bacon in the world, I enthused and he agreed.

I licked a strawberry then swallowed it in an attempt to distract him.

"Oh, lord," he panted. "You are a demon sent from hell to tempt me, aren't you? I'm gonna take you in that bathroom and call your bluff."

Aside from ourselves, the restaurant was only occupied by staff and another couple that had walked in just as we were getting our order. And the idea of being taken in the restroom where anyone could walk in and discover us, was intensely erotic. Glancing at the bathroom door, I played as though I needed convincing. A boot nudged my ankle, and my gaze was drawn into steel-hard eyes that promised me things I was hard-pressed to turn down.

"I'm still a little sore from last night. I'd forgotten how energetic he is." The hint was lost on him for a second. He groaned when he realized what I meant.

"Arthur? Damnit, I don't get it."

"It's all right," I laughed. "I'm not moon-eyed over him, like others of your acquaintance."

"He's a nice kid, but lord. What is it about that boy?"

"He was confused and hurt. And you know me. I can't leave a wounded man alone."

"Yeah, that's you, the angel of mercy."  His eyes shifted to his crotch.

"And demon of blue balls," I finished for him.

"Give me one of those berries."

"Come get some." I held it up and as he leaned closer to take a bite, I yanked it away then offered it again. His teeth closed down over it, biting it sensuously, and he drew back, taking my fingers with him, licking the berry juice from them. He knows exactly what that does to me.

"I'm through with you now. You're a tease. There're other women who want me." He looked out the window, daring me to protest and change my mind. At least when he said it, it was meant in jest and not true dejection because I would not give in. He could accept the game either way.

"Well," I murmured, "if I thought Uma wouldn't have a problem, I could be persuaded. But I also think you should be turning your mind to your wife. Don't think I'm not thinking about it, though. And if I had balls, they'd be the same color as yours."

"Well, that's good to hear. You can suffer." Our laughter filled the dining room. It was good, no matter what the morning turned out to be.

"I've missed you." The tears that threatened to spill softened my words. Time is so short. And who knew what the next day could bring. But rules are rules, and I had others to think about.

"I missed you too- our talks, the other..."

"Now who is a tease?"

"Sorry, darlin'. Can't help it." Fingers on my flesh, inching as high as they could go caused me to look longingly toward the restroom door. There was no need to tell him I was close to slipping out of the bonds of responsibility and into his waiting arms.

"Go to hell, you spawn of the Devil!"

"You know it turns me on when you talk like that," his voice dripped honey. I threw a strawberry at him and he caught it, swallowing it down after an enticing show of what he can do with his tongue were strawberries the fruit of my body.

"Cort, they'll kill us. How would I explain it to the others?" No unscheduled visits say the rules of our little world. But then, are not all the chats and cybersex encounters and every sexual phone call made considered unscheduled visits? Or does that simply pertain to the joining of body parts when no one else is aware?

"Up to you darlin'. Uma wouldn't mind. She'd thank me, I'm sure. They all would." He got a withering look for that.

"Maximus."

"You got me there."

"Well, it's not like he's not sleeping with others. And he said to have my men."

"That's true, but they're all scheduled visits. He's been following the rules since he got home."

"We should fix our marriages first."

"I agree." He gently removed my foot from his groin, but not without a grateful and loving caress to the inside arch. "This thing with Terry, though. I could spit bullets. I could have killed him yesterday."

"I saw." He trusts men like Maximus and Terry to look after us, even though he is well aware we are able-bodied women who are tough and independent. But twice now, he has been let down by his brothers, and both times with the woman he adores above all. I wonder sometimes what it is to be a man in love and feel helpless to protect your loved one all the time. One should not have to worry about the hurts from within.

He took my wrist again, this time feeling the swelling and bruising that ice had not diminished. He brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed my knuckles.  "I wish you would reconsider."

"I'm in too deep, leannan. I have to see this through. I can't turn back."

"I understand." But he would still try to talk me down, make me see reason. "I wish there was something I could do to change it for you, though."

"I've made too many arrangements, gone too far into planning to back out. I'd hate to think I have cut my hair off for nothing, you know." Terry had said it was more professional to cut it to a manageable length. I grinned.

"Any connection I had with Terry is broken, you know that. He won't hear me now anyway."

"Not now. But perhaps later, when he's better and has had time to make the same realizations that Maximus has."

"Maybe." He did not sound convinced that it would ever be so.

"Let me do what I can. He'll let me close." Or not, the thought came to me when Cort's ministrations shot pain through my arm, reminding me that I had hit Terry because he would not listen to reason.

"I know, baby. If anyone can help it's you. Your healing heart." He smiled and cupped my cheek in his other palm.

"I'll do my best. Just look after everyone else for me."

"You know I will. And Max will too."

"I've been telling everyone to do that. So you will all take care of each other."

The clock was straight up eight, and Cort reluctantly drew away. "Well, if you're not going to fuck me in the toilet, we'd better get going." It was a last minute invitation. And I still wanted him inside me, purging me of worries and making me forget that I was anything other than a woman for a short while.

"You bastard," elicited a snicker from him. "Do you know how badly I want to?"

"Not half as bad I want to, but it'll keep." Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die... I could convince myself very easily.

"Yes. But kiss me. I miss them. Give me one to dream about, when the world is dark."

"Yes ma'am!" He pulled me up from the booth and took my face in his hands. His exuberance turned to serious examination as he gazed into my eyes and traced my lips and chin with his fingers. His kiss started at my hairline then made a path over my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and captured my mouth, tongue blazing a trail through my teeth and playing on mine.  And all thought fled under his kiss.  Then he held me, cuddling me in that diner, not caring who saw and how long it had to be.

"If I can't concentrate on my job now, it's all your fault," I whispered, willing myself not to cry.

"Watch your ass, Bou. So I can watch it later. Please be careful." Time is so short...

"I love you, leannan."

"I love you, darlin'." One last snuggle, one tiny kiss for memory's sake, and we went out the doors of the pancake house into real life. How fitting that if something should happen to me, my last embrace would be from the man who found me when I came into this special world.  My first brother.

If I could have suspended that moment of playful sensuality, I would have. The second I stepped out of it, I began to lose my humanity as I had known I must. As I had put off doing as long as possible. And now it was only Terry and myself and the world of Kidnap and Ransom and games that are played with human lives. Love, desire, and sweet emotion have no place to nest there. I only hope I learn to find them again when all is said and done.

leannan - dear one

A Note Under Uma's Door:

Dear Uma,

Our time in England together, while riddled with problems, was enjoyable to me. I was with friends, whereas I might have been alone. It made the journey happier for me. Regarding the troubles that sprung up, I wish they had not and I regret that my ability to be a fun companion was diminished. I hope we can do this again, when the world is bright and love rules our thoughts.

Until then my friend,

Boudicca