The thread of will-they-or-won't-they was the real driver of every word and glance and shift of body. So...this was a date, Blay thought. A subtextual negotiation slipcovered in talk of books read and music enjoyed.

All right, big guy, down you go." Oh,yeah. Bed. Bed was good. "And look who's here. It's Nurse Vishous.

Look upon me, Mistress. Watch as I wither!

Her perfume or soap or whatever it was reminded him of sandalwood and something else. Oh, right...orgasms.

Written on the mirror, revealed by the steam, were the words, I love you, Jane.

Vishous, could you stop grinning like that? You're beginning to freak me out.

Bye-bye, Elan. P.S., Next time you implicate someone falsely, try to pick a pacifist.