His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they'd been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting. It wasn't the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs. "God, I miss you," he said in a voice that cracked. "Every night. Every day.

Thank you for caring for my brother." He took his sunglasses off. And looked at her with total adoration.

If the Angels won, the entire Earth would be nothing but one giant Christmas frickin' morning, a choking wave of happiness and warmth and caring and sharing taking over everything.

good call. A second drag and your next stop's the wastepaper basket - and not to toss your kleenex, true.

In the oh-my-God-this-has-to-be-Christmas silence that followed, he struggled to reorder the last six months, to catch up with this reality they'd somehow missed. He wanted her. She wanted him. Was it true?

Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V's coffee table. "What's doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?" Butch held up the lenght of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in. "Potato launcher, my man. Big fun." "Excuse me ?" "Didn't you ever go to summer camp ?" "Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach our youngs.

Can we screw the 'sorry' part and let me hit you back instead?" Vishous to Butch