Merry - Chapter 70

   Rob and Panic got in from their road trip late. Rob dropped him off at his own little cabin, and continued on back to the main camp and bunkhouse. Merry was asleep, but got up when he had made a small fire and sat in a camping chair at it for a while. Merry came and looked out the door at him. He was just sitting there, seemingly content to stare at the fire. She walked out and stood behind him, her right hand lightly resting on his left shoulder.

   "Are you okay, hun?"

   "I'm fine."

   "Did… you and Robbie ever find your gun shop you were looking for?"

   "Not really. I guess hunting a gun shop by rumor and reputation isn't the best way to go about it, after all."

   "I see."

   Panic held up the file he had with him. He showed it to her, let her see what it was… then page by page tossed it into the fire. He did it slowly and carefully, ensuring every last square inch of it was consumed, and that chunks of visible ash weren't flying everywhere.

   "Are you going to get a chair out, and sit with me a little bit, honey?"

   "If you want me to."

   "It's not like I don't want you to sit with me."

   "You… just seem quiet, is all."

   "Yeah. I'll be… sort of quiet, for a little while. Then? I'll be what you think of as normal again."

   Merry put her camping chair up against his, and sat on his left side.

   "Merry? I know you want to talk about it, and, we're not supposed to talk about it. Is that why there's this awkward silence between us right now?"

   "Something like that. I was just gonna follow your lead on it."

   "You know the cover story was that me and Rob went looking for a… gunsmith rumored to exist. And that we failed to find him or his workshop."

   "Yeah…"

   "Well… we could say, strictly between us? I delivered a little… let's call it a… Christmas package to a certain someone."

   "Did they…"

   "No. They didn't open their Christmas package yet. I would expect they open their package up? This Sunday, perhaps next Sunday at the outside."

   "Do… you want anything?"

   "Such as…?"

   "Want me to get you a drink? Or… something else…"

   "I don't want to celebrate with drinking. I don't… celebrate… things like this. But, if you want to sit quietly with me, and… we each have one nice big glass of wine, then, I could go for that."

   Merry quietly went and got a bottle of Skykid's prized Merlot he had given her. She poured them each a big Styrofoam cup of it. After a while of them both sitting there, sipping the Merlot and watching the fire slowly die down. Merry asked him…

   "You flicked your light switch off, didn't you."

   He never turned to look at her.

   "Of course. I was playing."

   "How long, until the light switch comes back on?"

   "Oh. Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow night? A coule hours from now. Whenever, really. If you're wondering? I can just flick it off, at will. I can't really… flick it back on, on demand or anything. When the lights come back on? They come back on. I guess it's like a power outage, after a bad storm. The lights come back on? When they come back on."

   "Should… we get another glass of wine?"

   "You can, if you want one. I'm good. I don't really… drink… after playtime. I don't celebrate playtime, with drinking. But… I don't… drink to deal with it or anything, either."

   "What… do you feel?"

   "Honestly? Nothing, really. I'm not bothered, per se. The only tiny bit of bothered I am, if you even wanna call it that? Is… it used to slightly bother me, that I'm not bothered by it. If that makes any sense. But… I got over that little bit of next to nothing, a long time ago. I… just don't feel anything, for a while. That's all."

   "I understand you don't want to drink. But… would you like to… smoke some?"

   "Sure. Are we… done talking about this?"

   "Uhm… sure. If you wanna be done? We're done."

   "I'm not pushing you to drop it. I'm just making sure… we're done. Then? I can forget about it, and relax."

   Merry quietly went and got her jewelry box, and got the little pipe out with the big bowl. She packed it, and they handed it back and forth until it was gone. She repacked it, and they went back and forth again.

   "Do you want a third one?"

   "If we're going to sleep? Sure. Put me to sleep…"

   She packed it a third time, and they shared back and forth until it was gone.

   Merry finally stood up, and put her fingers out in front of his face, and wiggled them.

   "Come on, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another day."

   Panic took her fingers, and laced his own into hers. Merry slowly led them into the cabin. Closed the door behind them. Bitty Kitty was already on the bed, and Merry quietly got both of them undressed and gently shoved him into bed and crawled in with him.

   "Is it okay to lay on you, like usual?"

   "Sure. Why wouldn't it be."

   "Just asking. Do you want to sleep in a little tomorrow?"

   "Eh. A little. Not like all day or anything."

   That was about all they talked about it, and all the fanfare that existed about the whole situation. Really, just about nothing. Before either of them fell asleep, Bitty Kitty slowly stalked around the periphery of the bed several times, smelling both of them in turns. Bitty finally squeezed up between the middle of them, wiggling his ass and pushing slowly like a bulldozer until he had forced his way up to where he desired to be. He finally sighed and came to rest squished between the two of them, high on their chests. The top of his furry head rested against Merry's chin, and he wormed over until his feet were pushing against Merry's upper chest, and the back of his head and spine up against Panic.

   Panic brought his hand up to rest on the cat's shoulders, and he rubbed his face against the back of Bitty's head. He pretended to "bite" the cat's ears gently with just his lips. Merry felt something, but with the way mother nature had turned her own emotional thermostat down… she wasn't exactly sure what it was.

   She fell asleep trying to decide what it was she felt a tinge of. Happy like a little kid that was missing one toy out of a set of toys, and someone had just gifted her the last to complete the set? Maybe. Simply contented the larger of her two cats had returned home and was all right from out running around? Maybe. Perhaps even a slight jealousy, that Panic was only displaying physical intimacy with Bitty Kitty and not her.

   Whatever it was, it wasn't strong enough to uniquely identify which turned down emotion was bubbling up, and so it subsided into sleep. Several hours later, Merry's eyes popped open. She instantly saw what had disturbed her awake. Bitty Kitty had taken over a space on the pillow between the two of them, and had his nose resting up against the side of Panic's face. The upper paws were resting on his face, and the lower paws were on his upper chest. The tail had awoken her; Bitty was swishing his tail idly around, and it would rub across her face and annoyed her awake.

   Merry decided against saying or doing anything about it. She was slightly annoyed, but smiling at the sweetness aspect of it all at the same time. She backed out of bed slowly, and pulled her clothes and jogging shoes on after pulling back a ponytail to make herself mildly presentable. She palmed the car keys gently to prevent any large amount of jangling and eased out the door.

   She went to the donut shop, and caught the chief. She had a large coffee and bought several donuts to take back with her. Small talk with the chief went as well as ever.

   "Where's Panic, Merry?"

   "Oh. He's sleeping in. Him and one of the boys, went on a little road trip. They were trying to find some gunsmith they thought they had a line on. Guy was supposed to be good at… something the boys like having done to their guns. They got in last night."

   "Well, did they find the guy?"

   "Nope. The manhunt for… some special gunsmith? Continues. If you're curious? I'm out because him and the cat are pretty much making out in their sleep, and the cat pushed me off the pillow."

   The chief chuckled.

   "That actually sounds cute."

   Merry smiled.

   "It is. Slightly annoying? But… very cute. I promised him tater tots when he got back, and… I'm waiting for the grocery to open up."

   "Well… I'm about ready to go, but, the grocery will be open in a couple minutes, so… you're all good. Tell the boys I said good luck finding their gunsmith they want."

   "Will do, chief. Have a good day, okay?"

   "You too Merry…"

   Merry just left her money on the table and a little extra. The donut girl didn't thoroughly like dealing with her personally, and Merry didn't try to force the issue. The grocery was unlocking the main doors just like the chief had claimed. Merry picked up a couple bags of tater tots, and on a whim got a big 50 pound bag of potatoes. She could swear she had heard Sky claiming he was getting low on potatoes.

   On the way back, Merry went past her turn off the trail to her cabin, and continued on to the main camp. She gave Skykid the big bag of potatoes, and turned down eating breakfast with everyone. Instead, she took a couple Styrofoam plates of breakfast back with her to the cabin. Merry smiled at her little twinge of "I can't believe I'm jealous of the cat right now" feeling. She smiled, almost giggled, and it passed.

   Bitty Kitty was eyeing her up first of all, because she was home. Second? She had brought food home. Merry all but lured the cat away by picking up a thin link of "Ziggy" and wiggling it in the air in front of her. The cat responded by rolling off of Panic's face, stretching and yawning, and standing up and walking over to sniff at these new developments much more carefully. Merry kept giving the cat tidbits off of her plate while she sat on the folding camping chair looking at her guy sleeping. He was moving around from the cat getting up and walking towards her food. Eventually one eye opened up, then the other.

   "I guess I woke you up?"

   "Mm. You stole the cat…"

   "I borrowed the cat, thank you very much."

   Panic smiled.

   "Do… I get the cat back, eventually?"

   "I can't speak for the cat. But… if you want to get some more sleep? Sure."

   "You have breakfast. I don't wanna sleep through that…"

   "I brought you a plate."

   Panic sat up and stretched and yawned, and took the Styrofoam plate. Merry held up a big Styrofoam cup of coffee and wiggled it gently to ask. He nodded and accepted it.

   "Why is everything mixed up?"

   Scrambled eggs, shredded home fries, bits of sweet onion, crumbled bacon, chopped sausage links, some bits of ham, and other stuff… were all mixed up.

   "Sky did breakfast, which is normal. Apparently, one of the boys asked for breakfast like this. They call it breakfast slop… he makes everything individual like normal, then, he mixes it all up at the end. Ziggy links are the only thing that gets a separate plate. The boys like it."

   "I'm not complaining… honestly, it all gets mixed up in your stomach anyways."

   Merry smiled.

   "You're not a really picky eater."

   "No, I'm not. As long as I'm eating? I don't complain. If it's edible? So much the better."

   "So… how you doing?"

   "I guess you mean…"

   "Yeah. Just curious if I should let you be or not."

   Panic stretched again and smiled.

   "No. I actually woke up while you were gone, and went back to sleep. I'm… normal. I'll be myself once I'm up and around. Do you have something in mind for today?"

   Merry shrugged.

   "Nothing major. I went and got coffee and a few donuts. So, if you want dessert after breakfast? There's that."

   "And…?"

   "And? I waited until the store was open, and got you a couple big bags of tater tots. You did stipulate tater tots, you know."

   Panic smiled.

   "I was pretty much kidding…"

   "Mm. If my asset wants tater tots? I figure I want a happy asset. I also got Skykid a gigantic bag of potatoes."

   "Should I be jealous?"

   Merry chuckled.

   "His present was bigger and heavier. Your present? Cost a hair more. And… he gave me a box of some of the potatoes. He said, if I wanted to? You like baked potatoes. We have that oven you rebuilt right there… so…"

   "Ooh. You're going to cook for me?"

   "I wouldn't call it cooking. Skykid said to just put a big slit in the potatoes? And bake them until they're soft. He said I can't possibly screw that up."

   "I'm still excited you're going to cook for me."

   "Well… he also told me how to make basic mashed potatoes from scratch. He said you're into potatoes. He said, I should leave the skins on then mash them up, that you like that."

   "Wow. You already know how to make french fries and home fries. This is going to be pretty cool."

   "Yes, I can boil oil, and drop things in the boiling oil. Pull them out before they burn."

   "See? I told you… that you can cook. You didn't believe me."

   "Uh huh. Sky told me to dress the baked potatoes up. Cheese, crumbled bacon, maybe sour cream… or anything else we like."

   "Ooh. Gourmet baked potatoes. My life? Just keeps getting better and better."

   "Hmm. When are you going to show me how you make your own chili? Skykid promised me chili isn't a big deal."

   "Honey, the problem with you and chili? Is not that I'd think you'd have any trouble making it. The problem with you and chili? Is going to be you and your little problem with spice."

   "I don't have any problem with spice, dear…"

   "And? That would be my problem… once you get comfortable with basic chili, and start winging it? I get nightmares thinking what kind of hot pepper bullshit you're going to toss into it, just so you can taste it."

   Merry smiled and laughed.

   "I promised you… I won't do that…"

   "It's not just me I'm worried about… what if Bitty Kitty tries to eat some out of a batch of some thermonuclear warhead chili you come up with? It could kill him. I don't wanna see poor Bitty poop flames out of his fuzzy little ass. Plus, the cabin's made out of wood, he could set the bed on fire in his sleep if he farts. I believe it to be an actual safety issue."

   "Hmm. What if… we make his and hers chili…"

   "Well, now you're thinking. That could work. I never thought about his and hers chili pots. I will take that under advisement? And… give it a firm maybe…"

   Merry smiled.

   "Someone's back."

   "Are you sure? I could be faking it, you know."

   "Well, you don't have to fake anything with me, so… I'm gonna guess you're not faking it."

   "No. I felt better when I woke up. I was gonna share it with you, but… you? Were off gallivanting. So… me and Bitty Kitty rubbed noses before I went back to sleep."

   "Yeah. You two? Were quite the pair last night and early this morning. He woke me up, by swatting me in the face with his tail."

   "Could be a sign of affection in the animal kingdom? Cats do sniff butts to say hello, like dogs do. Not sure though. You'll have to take that up, with him."

   "Okay. You're definitely back. You wanna sleep more? Or…"

   "Honestly? I want you to lay here with me a while."

   Merry kicked her jogging shoes off and crawled onto the bed, and laid down next to him.

   "I wasn't thinking sex, but… do you need all these clothes on…"

   "Hmm. Put me how you want me then."

   He undressed her lazily, but left her underwear on. He finally slid her sports bra off over her head.

   "You want me to keep my panties on?"

   He didn't answer her, and simply pulled the covers down and laid his head with his face in her neck. Got his arm down and around her neck to gently hug her in. Laid a thigh and leg over her closest leg, his arm over her chest. He created a mirror image of how she slept up against him almost every night they spent together. After a while silent, Merry finally spoke.

   "I'd ask if you really like me, but…"

   "I guess we were both looking for the same thing, then."

   "What's that?"

   "Home life. This… is home life. Right?"

   "Definitely."

   "Is it how you pictured it, how you imagined it would be?"

   "I guess so, yeah… and you?"

   "Operation Merry? Seems like a complete success, as far as I can tell. But… I'm not an expert on it. You know any experts that could weigh in on it?"

   Merry chuckled.

   "Science girl? Mentioned to me, just this morning by the way… that everything seems perfect."

   "Even without me peeing on you?"

   Merry laughed heartily.

   "Yes. Even without you peeing on me, dear."

   "Good… because I was worried that might teach Bitty Kitty really bad habits in the cabin."

   He disengaged from his gentle sleep-clutch, and propped his head up on one hand. He strayed his other hand over her body, but, without any intent beyond simply touching and being close with her. When his hand went up and down her leg, his finger traced over a thin, almost imperceptible scar. He wondered if it was less noticeable when she wasn't as tan, or, if it were more so when she paled in the winter.

   "Are these little scars all from sports? Or… rough housing when you were growing up…"

   "I have a bunch of little scars. I'd say most of them? Are from sports. But yeah, some are from sandlot wiffle ball games and shit like that… some from riding a dirt bike when I was little. I guess I got lucky being a tomboy… I don't have any real Frankenstein scars or anything. One of the other girls I grew up with? I got her to ride a dirt bike like I did. I guess I was trying to… have another tomboy friend…"

   "I could see that. Did it work?"

   Merry smiled thin.

   "I guess maybe, a little too well. She got her leg trapped under my dirt bike, and she got a really bad burn and stitches and stuff. She was screaming her head off, and by the time I got to her, and pulled the dirt bike up off her? Her leg was pretty well muffed up. Her parents freaked out, and… that was the end of having a wiffle ball girlfriend to run around with."

   "She quit wiffle ball and dirt bikes, huh?"

   "It wasn't as much her… her parents were the ones freaked out. She was okay with it, but… basically her parents did everything but paint a dress on her after that."

   "How bad was her leg?"

   "Oh… it'll always show. We hooked up once, briefly, after I went to college and came back home on break when I was a freshman. She said she always shows the scar off, uses it like an icebreaker to show people. I told her I was sorry… she laughed, and said she never tried to be a model or anything, it was fine. She said she was sorry, for her parents. She wanted to keep playing wiffle ball and stuff."

   "So… then you were alone…"

   "Oh. This was before boys and that. I still had the boys to run around with, that was just the last girl to run around with me, playing wiffle ball and everything. Later on? Sports got me… girls to run around with again… just no girly girls. The farther you get in girl's sports? The more they get weeded out."

   He idly traced his index finger around, finding a few little scars here and there on her legs. Then, his fingers found the one on her shoulder. he asked, naturally. Merry sighed. Then, quietly explained.

   "Horse riding. In the woods. Me and the boys were… not racing, but. Basically riding horses through the woods, like people ride dirt bikes on deer trails all over creation in the woods? Like that. You can't really see a stick pointed straight on, and… I got, you know. Impaled. Looks worse than it really was.

   "What sports did you play…"

   "Hmm. Since you're my home life now? And… it seems… official? Little secret, and it's a haunted twat secret. I didn't play triple A ball growing up."

   "Oh… trying to impress me, and, you were double A, huh?"

   "No… I was quad A. It was a big school district. It's not much of a secret I was a tomboy and played sports? But… I tell everyone triple A, so… security, you know?"

   "Gotcha. Oh… security. I'm not allowed to know what sports you played then…"

   Merry smiled.

   "Before junior high? I had to play on the boys little league teams for everything. Mainly baseball and soccer and basketball little leagues. They… had a girls pee wee soccer team? Ah… I kinda played on the boys pee wee soccer team. Remember, those were the boys I grew up playing wiffle ball with and everything. I refused to play on the pee wee girls soccer team… they sucked! They kind of ran around and bumped into each other like wind up dolls. I was used to playing with the boys…"

   "You didn't get into any problems, playing on boys little league teams?"

   Merry laughed out loud and had to hold her stomach to get it under control again.

   "The fuck do you think went on? It was nothing but problems… mostly from a couple boys that had a problem with it. You know, they thought they were gonna play rough with me, and get me to quit? I mean, every year, there was a new one that thought that."

   "Hmm. I can guess how that ended up…"

   "Yeah. I mean, you boys in little league… if someone starts pushing you and hitting you in practice too much, ain't there a fight?"

   Panic laughed, remembering…

   "Oh yeah…"

   "Well… I started punching boys right in the mouth, like I did playing sandlot ball."

   "You ever get hit back?"

   Merry laughed her ass off again…

   "Oh, hell yeah. I mean, it's actually funny. Most of the boys? Had this I can't hit a girl shit, but… magically? They could put their hands on me to try to give me the shits, trying to get me to quit. I mean, fuck that… eventually? I'd haul off and punch a boy right in the mouth. They do it to each other… why not me."

   "Then what happens to the I won't hit a girl thing?"

   "Well… once they have a bloody lip or a bloody nose? Hell yeah they start swinging back, they don't have a choice. I don't see how it's any different than you boys fighting at little league practice. Remember. I was tall for a girl growing up when I was young. Until the boys filled out as they got older? Most of them didn't really have much on me. I was honestly? Just one of the boys."

   "What did they do to you, made you wanna fight?"

   "Oh. Don't go thinking I got mad every time I got knocked down. I'm talking about bullshit, like… after the play is over? Coming up behind me and pushing me down. No, if you're just playing rough? I'll just play rough back."

   "This can't have gone over very well…"

   Merry laughed some more.

   "I came home from pee wee baseball practice one time… I had a black eye and puffy lip. My parents asked me what happened, I told them. A new boy? Got behind me and whacked me over the head, with a batting helmet. Yeah… we got into it, I mean go figure, right? Anyways… my parents are freaking out, and drove over to talk to the parents…"

   "How did that go?"

   "That was weird. The mom wanted everyone to talk, but, the Dad? He got mad and tried to make my parents leave. Him and my Dad about got into it, but for both Mom's yelling at them. The boy came downstairs? Well, he had a black eye too, and a cotton ball up his nose. Remember… until puberty hits? The boy's ain't all bigger and stronger than me yet. It was fair, if you wanna call it that."

   "How did that turn out?"

   "Uh… everyone agreed to disagree, I guess. Both our dads were almost fighting, and both our moms could barely keep it from happening. His dad was an asshole, big surprise there, huh? Anyways, that dad called me something very bad, and the whole thing started blowing up in their living room. I yelled at that dad, his son hits like a girl, which again, didn't go over very well at all."

   Panic joined her in laughter for a short time…

   "Christ. This go on a lot?"

   "Eh. Like, once a year, per sport. In little league… once I got to junior high? They had girl sports teams, so… everything settled down as much as it was going to."

   "As much as it was going to?"

   "Well… did you grow up thinking the girls sports teams, never had fights at practice? Or at games? Geez… it's sports, it's not cheer-leading…"

   "Okay… what's the funniest one looking back on it?"

   "Hmm. Go figure, in pee wee sports? I was a girl playing on the boys teams… my team had to be okay with it, I was usually a starting player. The other team? Not so much, as it turns out… I was prone to kinda get into a fight with a boy on another team, if he tried putting his hands on me outside of legal play. I guess… if I had to pick one of them? I did rush the mound once, in boys baseball. I assume you know what rushing the mound is?"

   "Isn't that where the batter gets pissed at the pitcher, and runs out and tackles the pitcher and tries to beat him up before the umpire can get things settled down?"

   "Yep. Usually? It's when the pitcher is deliberately throwing a bean ball. You know, deliberately fastball pitching at the batter."

   "Hey, it happens. You take your base, they give you first base for that…"

   "Right… he was beaning me? Every time I was up at the plate… and no one else. After the third time? I rushed the mound and got that little fucker. He was pissed because the last game? I was getting hits off him… now, when a boy gets hits? You do what's called 'intentional walking'… they throw four obvious pitches way out of the batters box, and they give you first base. Well, this little pansy was mad because a girl was hitting off him, so…"

   "He was gonna bean you instead of walk you… he figured it's just you getting first base either way, and he wanted to bean you."

   "Right. Third time? You rush the mound…"

   "Oh, good lord… I can picture this one…"

   "It gets better…"

   "No, it can't get any funnier…"

   "Well… this is little league. Most of the boys on my team? Over half of them already know me from playing sandlot ball growing up. They're used to me being a starting player in pee wee leagues. They agreed, that if he tried it a third time? And I did rush the mound? They agreed to all run out, and keep his team mates from separating us, so I had a chance to get the little fucker. He was a skinny little shit, and until puberty hits? He didn't have shit on me, so…"

   "So…?"

   "So… my team ran out and surrounded the pitcher's mound, and were trying to keep it from getting broken up as long as they could. His infield can't get at us, my whole bench ran out… by the time his outfielders came running in, his bench came running out. The umpire thought because he blew his whistle really loud? Everyone was going to obey him… right…"

   "Did you get him?"

   "Oh. Hell yeah. Like I said, he was a short, skinny little shit. I got his jersey up over his head, so I could throw him down… and I kicked that little fucker with my spikes as long as I could. Pretty sure I got a few of his ribs, and… I was trying to stomp on his face and head as best I could get him, after he covered up…"

   It was Panic's turn to belch out in peals of laughter and he had to reign it in to continue talking…

   "You instigated a full scale bench clearing brawl, in a pee wee game?"

   "Well, it wasn't T ball, this was mustang league."

   Panic kept chuckling at the mental image, and wanted to know how it turned out…

   "Oh. Nothing good, trust me. The umpire was pissed he couldn't control everything by blowing his stupid little whistle. I mean, you rush the mound? You're thrown outta the game, and missing a few more games on suspension, that's guaranteed. But…"

   "But…"

   "But, see… the umpire warned him twice already about beaning me deliberately on the first pitch. Plus? He was fucking headhunting, it was obvious. He should have been thrown out the game, the second time he got me. He was magically able to keep every pitch over the plate on every other player… it was obvious. So… my coach is every bit as mad at the other coach, for not controlling his pitcher like that… and he's screaming at the umpire, for issuing warning after warning, and this was the third time in a row. Plus? You got… you know… a few parents pushing and shoving in the stands…"

   Panic was still chuckling in little patches, barely able to control it.

   "That was it?"

   "Uh… I don't know why, but… the first base ref, and the third base ref? They got into a fistfight, and it was never really clear exactly what that was over and who's side they were on or whatever… so, we had two referees fist fighting too. The umpire was jumping up and down, screaming and yelling, blowing his little whistle…"

   "How did it all end up?"

   "Well… I was definitely outta the game, I mean, I knew that was coming. I got a three game suspension. But… that pitcher? He got ejected too, and, they had to give him a three game suspension for ignoring warnings, and he was headhunting and making it obvious. They had to throw something like six or eight parents out of the stands, for fighting or almost fighting and wouldn't calm down after it was over. Then, there was the matter of the first base ref and the third base ref getting into a fistfight. I honestly don't know what happens to ref's that get into fistfights at a game, not sure that happens enough they even have a rule for it, to be honest…"

   "Did you get in trouble with your parents?"

   "Not really. I mean, I got a lecture about fighting, but… the little fucker was throwing fastballs and aiming for my head and making it kinda obvious, so… my mom was doing her usual oh-my-god thing she always did… my dad took it in stride. He dropped my mom off, and promised to have a talk with me… which amounted to he took me out for ice cream then took me rollerskating, so…"

   "How popular were you with the other players after that three ring circus?"

   "Oh. The boys? On my team? They thought it was great. My coach? He had to be mad at me, officially, but… he was more mad at the other coach and pitcher for deliberately headhunting, which is like, the worst thing a pitcher and coach can do. I mean, my whole team got a lecture and we had to run a zillion laps for a couple weeks, but… we were all in on it, so… overall, not really a big deal. We're little kids, and we thought we were the coolest things ever, having a bench clearing brawl, just like the major leagues on TV."

   Merry got the giggles again, though…

   "What?"

   "Oh… just remembering the announcer. You know the guy that's up in that little room, up on the stilts, announcing the whole game?"

   "Yeah…"

   "I remember when I was running out, I heard him say clear as a bell… Whoa! it's another wild pitch, he might get more than a warning this time, folks. Holy shit, she's rushing the mound!"

   They both laughed more.

   "What happened to the pitcher?"

   "Eh. He missed three games for his suspension, then he missed more games, cause I'm pretty sure I got a few of his ribs with my metal spikes. Plus I'm kicking and stomping his head as much as I can. Now… this was the last year of bronco ball. Next year? Pony ball. But… that was also the year I started junior high school, so, I finally had girls teams I could play on. I just hopped right over to girls softball for the junior high team. That pitcher? I remember he tried his headhunting shit in pony league, and… some boys got together and beat him up for that shit. Which got him out of baseball for good. Fuck him anyhow, you know?"

   "Were your mom and dad happy you were finally playing on girls teams?"

   "Mom was never happy with me playing sports, I guess she always had her heart set on a real tea party daughter, which really wasn't going to ever happen anyways. I remember my dad saying something cute at the dinner table when my mom complained I got into a fight with a girl on one of my teams at practice? My dad said something like… oh hey honey, it's fine, she's punching girls now, it's totally normal, don't worry about it."

   "Your dad had a sense of humor."

   "Yeah, dad had a sense of humor."

   "Your mom ever come around?"

   "Well, yeah. Kinda. In college? I was a starting player. I got three college degrees totally paid for, by playing sports. Mom couldn't be mad about that, my dad joked that I kept him out of the poor house by getting it all paid for."

   "What sports did you play in college?"

   Merry sighed and paused…

   "Honey? Everything I tell you about this stuff? It all falls under haunted twat rules. Honestly, I can't tell you about what sports I played in college, I told you too much already. I just trust you not to go digging. It was a big school, and… I mean… I was a captain or a co captain, by the time they recruited me to stay and get my Master's to keep playing. That's why I can't have any medals or trophies in my room or anything like that. Don't be mad at me…"

   Panic smiled.

   "No. It's all right. I understand. Holy shit, I just realized something…"

   "What now?"

   "You've been in the papers. Probably been on TV before, huh?"

   "Eh. Once or twice. It was a big school. But trust me, the men's teams? Got way more papers and TV then the girls teams ever did. Believe me. I wasn't famous or anything."

   "Could you have gone pro?"

   Merry sighed.

   "Gone pro at what? Look… first off, I'm not telling you what sports I played, but… you could probably guess. But, let's think about this. Name me one professional women's sport? For college athletes after college. And, I mean one that pays more than minimum wage. Seriously, which one would that even be? Go on… try…"

   "Well…"

   "See? Men have a chance to go pro at football, basketball, baseball, hockey… there's really nothing for women. There's nothing but the Olympics, and honestly? I wasn't that good, I don't think. I mean, I got invited to the tryouts? But, seriously… you have to train for years, and you basically starve the whole time, it's just a room and board kind of thing to train for the Olympics. Plus? Just about everyone already knows who the players are that should be on the women's Olympics teams."

   "There's women's professional fighting, you might have been good at that, you know…"

   "Hun? Girls that go that route… most of them have been fighting since they were little. They grow up in karate tournaments and shit. That wasn't one of my sports. Plus? Women's fighting wasn't really big until after I was out of college."

   "Well… where did you learn how to knock a girl out like a man then. I've fooled around with you playing around? I know you can throw a punch and a kick…"

   "Hun? I was a high school and a college athlete. Now… have I ever hit a heavy bag? Yeah. Not seriously, though. One of the girls on… well, on one of my teams? She grew up a karate girl or whatever. Neither one of us was a real big partier in college? Yeah, she used to have me fool around with her, it was hard for her to find girls to spar with. But… she grew up doing that stuff. I went with her a few times, when she went to do her thing fighting? You know, watch her fight and stuff."

   "You didn't like watching it?"

   "No, it was okay to watch it. But… I already played sports in college. I had scholarships on the line, I couldn't afford to get a serious injury that would take me out of what amounted to a paying sport. I mean if you think about how much of a free education I got paid with. It was a big school. Expensive to be there. Plus? I didn't grow up doing this. I have zero experience. It would take me years to get enough experience to even think about getting paid to do it."

   "Okay, I see your point."

   "Honey? You said you ran track and played soccer in high school, right?"

   "Sure…"

   "Well? Why didn't you go out for the college ice hockey team… if you see my point."

   "Yeah, I see where you're coming from."

   "Now, that said… yeah, I sparred with my friend in college. I guess if you don't know any better, maybe I would look okay if you saw me hit a heavy bag or a speed bag? But, trust me here… only a non-fighter would be impressed. I really don't think Little Robbie would be very impressed with me at all. Now… to just about any girl I run into on any street? Christ, it's like fighting a little kid to me. But a real girl fighter? Would mop the mat up with me, trust me."

   "How do you know that?"

   Merry laughed.

   "All right. The girl I knew in college? She got back into fighting after college. She finally 'made it' or whatever, and was on some team finally. Took her a couple years after college was over. She won her first fight. Then? Her second fight? She got hurt. I mean hurt bad. And… this was the girl that could mop the mat up with me, because she had years of experience doing it. What do you think would happen to me, if I tried to do that with no experience? I'd be in critical care right next to her in some hospital ward."

   "Wow. I'm trying to imagine? A girl tougher than you. Then, I'm trying to imagine that girl? Getting put into the hospital in her second fight. Jesus…"

   "It's not that hard to imagine, honey. I've seen you and little Robbie fool around with his kickboxing pads. Wrestling with him. Where are you at with that stuff?"

   "Am I ashamed to admit, that little Robbie can take me, 99 times out of 100? Not at all. He was an amateur kick-boxer all through high school, when I was playing soccer and running track. He was actually a pro for a while, until he got out of it. He's the teacher? I'm the student."

   "Same thing with me and my college girlfriend that was a fighter. Now… I heard little Robbie say it. Even though he was a professional? He was a pro in his state. He admitted, that if he jumped up to try to do it at the national level? It was a whole different ball game. Then? He would have to be a top winner at the national level? To have a chance to try to get on TV fighting like that. Which is where you finally have a career out of it."

   "So Merry… are you trying to say, that we're both has been's, that never were?"

   "I don't think so. I think we both had our day, didn't we? I think both of us, we were once on top of our game… and the thing that no athlete can get away from… is the fucking calendar. Hey, I admit it… I just started into my 30s, and, I don't think there's any way I could seriously try to compete at the college level. What about you… do you seriously want to go up against a 24 year old Ranger now, pushing 40? Be truthful…"

   Panic sighed.

   "No. You're right. I would be using tactics… experience… to get them. I probably wouldn't want to jump on a 24 year old Ranger in a fair fight and go hand to hand like I did when I was a younger man. Christ Merry, do you have to make me feel old like this? Jesus… I liked it better, when you made me feel like a little kid again…"

   They both laughed easily together.

   "You know one of the things I like about you, Panic?"

   "Feed my ego, I love it… go on…"

   "Hmm. That's just it. You don't take things too seriously. How to explain this… okay… you know those people that dress in the latest fashions, and make sure they always have the latest car and hairstyle? And they work out a couple of hours every day, just to try to stay young?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Don't get me wrong, a little bit of that, is great, but… people that live for nothing else but? After a certain number of years, it starts to be a little pathetic, in a way. I wanna try to age gracefully, if I can. By that I mean… I don't wanna work out 4 hours a day, eating crumbs, trying to keep a six pack. All it leads to? One day, you can't do it anymore… and you seem to go from 30 to 60 overnight. I don't wanna be like that. I don't wanna be fat and lazy, I wanna hike and jog and maybe play racquetball again, but… I'd rather spend four hours with you, instead of wasting it in the gym every day. What about you?"

   "Hmm. I try to stay active, I do stuff, but… I'm with you. I don't wanna be that guy, trying to run marathons into his 60s. I'm not getting a hair transplant. I wanna look okay for 40? But… I don't wanna be a fitness model or anything. You see what I do. I jog some, I hike more than I jog. Before all this happened? Yeah, I lifted weights, but… not like when I was younger, trust me. Rob taught me to do pull-ups and walk on my hands, and to keep stretching out twice a day. Most of what I can do? Requires technique and flexibility, and reasonable strength. I think it's a little bit silly, to see a man 40 to 60 years old, trying to look like a body builder."

   "See? We're both being reasonable about it. I like reasonable. Ask me what my plans are… you about know, but… since we're just laying here, talking…"

   "Well? What are your plans then."

   "Eventually? The trial comes. It'll take a while, and I'll come up when I can. I promised Uncle Mikey, I wouldn't retire on him, and leave him fucked. I have my last assignment left? And it's just a long term eavesdropping case. We're feeding the files, and setting the stage for other teams, later on down the line? To take advantage of it all. And I meant it, when that assignment is done? I'm out. I already have a nest egg, and I think it's more than I'll need. I'm just finishing what I started, and, I'm not starting anything else. Uncle Mikey was talking about maybe me moving up when I'm done working the undercover pool? I honestly don't think I want that. And my last assignment? It's a lot like early retirement, when you think about it. I'll be here with you. Comparing your world? To my world, in the city? It's no contest. Now… what about you, honey. Any of this sound familiar?"

   "Me? Hell. You about know my story. I have to finish me and Speedy's case. It's important, you know that. I got into the 'Merry case' on accident, but… I think that's about wrapped up now, I think. Once we get confirmation on the… present got opened, if you know what I mean. Then? I just wanna finish my big case, and… well, look around you. I'm gonna run the long range… maybe a gun shop… help George manage his property. I have my own nest egg, and, I was kinda into my own early retirement, when the case just sorta happened, and I couldn't say no. Retirement, to me? Is working part time. I guess… we just enjoy each other's company. Enjoy the quiet life."

   Merry smiled easily at him.

   "See? We are the same. I have the crazy trial coming up… you have your… crazy case to finish… then? We can both enjoy a home life, right?"

   "Yeah. I guess, that's our plan?"

   Merry smiled and kissed him.

   "You said our plan… not my plan, or, your plan. It's working… we're pair bonded now. There's no me and you… there's just… us. This is how it's supposed to be."

   Merry laid there in a short silence. His moving hand, which wasn't really leading anywhere, had slowed down. He had slowly gotten back into laying there mode, not propped up and talking mode. Even with her thermostat turned down to somewhere around 55, Merry felt a slight pang of guilt. Self aware from over investigating such matters, she took stock of that in the silence. She knew that if her thermostat was turned up to whatever regular was, this feeling would be more acute, so… she had trained herself to try to recognize it and act on it.

   She decided she felt as if she had accidentally stepped on Bitty Kitty's tail. It was as if the cat hadn't yelped and yowled, and had simply walked away from the accidental tromping. The real life counterpart to tromping on the cat's tail, was of course not sharing with Panic. Here she was, the supposed expert on relationships, always talking about sharing and home life. She knew it was technically the "smart" move to steadfastly not list sports she had once been a college star in.

   But there was that warm and slowing slight gust of hot air on her neck she liked. Merry knew what tail she had stepped on. Panic had shared with her, all about his previous life. He definitely told her things she was pretty sure he shouldn't have. He didn't play it completely safe, he engaged in the risk of sharing with her. Then? There was the matter of what he had recently gone and done. Not for his own benefit, for her benefit. It made her job easier, it made her safer. He was giving freely, he wasn't taking. Merry recognized she was simply taking, and had just refused to give back.

   Then there was the matter of that slight guilt she was feeling. She knew she had to pretend that guilt was a much stronger feeling, or she could never approximate a more normal emotional response. While that might be appropriate in other situations, it wasn't with her mate.

   "Honey… are you still awake?"

   "Hmm…"

   "Are you still awake?"

   "Mm. I am now…"

   "I'm sorry."

   "About what?"

   "Soccer… that was my college sport. I mean, it's obvious I played sports, but, I got my degrees paid for with scholarships. Just remember, it's a haunted twat secret, okay?"

   "Sure honey. Hmm. Soccer… explains your legs…"

   "I figured it might explain why you and Little Robbie thought I could kick half decent?"

   "Hmm. Rob said you can kick like a pissed off mule…"

   "Yeah. Soccer. You played soccer, I'm sure you know you can destroy someone's shins or ankles if you kick them…"

   "Oh, sure… knees too. I wasn't exactly the worlds best soccer player in high school, hun… but… Rob used it to get me doing all his low kicks better…"

   "Remember I played baseball?"

   "Yeah… my little mound rusher…"

   "Well. In junior high? I switched over to playing girls softball. I had to give it up for soccer, at college. You can only play so many sports. The soccer coach and the softball coach? They won't share players, like in high school."

   Panic chuckled into her neck…

   "What's so funny?"

   "Hmm. Sounds kinky… two college coaches? Didn't want to share you?"

   "Oh, you're funny this morning, aren't you?"

   "Mm hmm…"

   "And the girlfriend I sparred with? For fun?"

   "Yeah…"

   "When… I was going through the academy? You can imagine, it's a long training program… they put us through a lot of fighting practice…"

   "Yeah, sure."

   "After two or three classes? They had me go and take it with the men… there was really no point in watching me fight with most of the girls in the women's class."

   "Makes sense… how did you do against the men?"

   "For a girl? Great… as another guy? Eh. Okay…"

   "That bug you?"

   "No, not really. I was a college athlete, I know the truth… its okay."

   "What truth is that?"

   "Well… you could imagine the girls basketball team, playing for fun against the men's basketball team, right?"

   "Sure…"

   "Well. The men smoked us. Hands down. Every time. The girls soccer team, we would do the same thing? It was worse. The men lit us up and pissed us out. Our coaches encouraged us to do it, and to keep doing it."

   "Why?"

   "Well. We're all high school sports stars. We had big egos, some of us. Coaches don't like big egos. They wanted us to get used to fighting harder, being the underdogs. Then, when we're playing games against against women again? We did better."

   "Sounds like fighting practice, honey…"

   "Really?"

   "Yeah. Say you're a fighter, you're training. You don't get anything out of training with people you can knock around easy… you have to bite the bullet, and only train with people that can knock the shit out of you, and do it easily… only way to get better. Same underdog principle. Same get rid of your ego thing, too, I guess."

   "Wanna know a secret, honey?"

   "Sure…"

   "The girls Olympic soccer team?"

   "Yeah…"

   "They played an exhibition game once. Against the men's national champs from the high school quad A that year…"

   "Oh. How did that go. Girls gave 'em a run for their money?"

   "Yeah, but… the best boy's high school team in the country? Won. They never repeated that exhibition ever again, and no one publicizes it."

   "Hun? That's why I like shooting so much. It's a level playing field. Same with playing hide and seek in the woods, practicing. I know I can't beat little Robbie in a fair standing fight… but… we play in the woods? We compete shooting? It's a lot more fair. And… those things? We're practicing playing for keeps, no one's keeping score if we have to play for real. Just a winner and a loser. The winner? Alive. The loser? Dead."

   "How do women do shooting against the men?"

   "There's not as many women, but… the ones that take it seriously? You'd be surprised."

   "Really?"

   "Yeah. You know skeet, you shoot those clay birds with a shotgun, right?"

   "Sure, seen you guys do it."

   "Right. They once took the men's world champion skeet shooter, and the women's world champion skeet shooter… and it was a big demo, some gun company put the show on."

   "How did it go?"

   "They were dead even. Both of them? Just shot perfect rounds, over and over again. Remember, these are the best skeet shooters in the world. They went at it for hours. Everyone was amazed."

   "Who won?"

   "The man won, but, it's not like you think. It took hours of non stop skeet shooting? Then… the woman slowly started losing the ability to pick the heavy shotgun up quick enough. But, until the girl started getting tired? It was dead even, everyone admitted it, even the guy. He admitted he only won, by being bigger and stronger, because everything else was even."

   "Guy still won though…"

   "You're missing the point. No skeet match goes on that long, that was an exhibition. That woman? Can go perfect with any man in the country, hands down. Imagine if push came to shove, and she's getting chased through the woods by men and everyone had shotguns… she'd be a holy terror."

   "Any other shooting the women do good at?"

   "Yeah. Bench-rest shooting. Men that are into guns? They typically grew up hunting, usually. They have bad habits, that are great for standing up and taking shots on running game, and shooting offhand… but… shooting off of a bench? That's a whole different world. Men? Typically won't listen to someone telling them what to do. A woman that's never shot or hunted before? They just do what you tell them, and they get better at bench-resting quick."

   "Really…"

   "Yeah. There's another one too. The women used to own one competition, at one time. Unlimited long range handgun. You get to lay down, and shoot any way you like. You bench the big long handgun off of any part of your body you want to, any way you like. Some women's teams? Were actually slightly better than the men for a long time, and no one could ever figure out why. It evened up over the years, but still."

   "Huh. Can I try this stuff?"

   "Sure. Just remember, it's about holding steady, and about not moving the gun when you touch the trigger. Strength and speed? Play no part. If your gun and your ammo are equal to the guy you're competing with? The man has no advantage. Why do you think you see us guys, shooting the same guns and the same ammo? We're making it fair to see who the better shot is… not the guy that has the fanciest equipment."

   "Hmm. I can't wait for the trial to be over. Try some of this stuff out."

   Panic started giggling into her neck…

   "What?"

   "Nothing."

   "Something's funny. Share it…"

   "Oh, just remembering. You know, back when you were just a steakhouse waitress? Pretending you never fired a gun before?"

   Merry chuckled with him.

   Panic put a silly girly voice on…

   "Oh, is this the end the BB comes out from? Huh…"

   They both laid there chuckling in soft waves, off and on.

   "Merry? You tell me this plan, our plan… is okay. Right?"

   "Sure…"

   "What are your dreams though. I know this is your choice off of the list. What's your fantasy dream, though. I'm curious."

   "What kind of fantasy? I'm petty sure you don't mean sexual fantasy…"

   "No. You seem to have that covered for the both of us. Nothing else?"

   "Dream? Fantasy? You mean anything."

   "Is there any other kind of dream? In a dream, anything can happen."

   "Hmm. I suppose you already know, that all us girls never really grow up about… the romantic fairy tales… there's always a prince, you know…"

   "Well, Merry is in luck tonight. I? Have been called… a real prince before."

   They both laughed.

   "I'm not alone with my articles on this one… I definitely wanna write an article, that the rich handsome price stories they feed us as little girls? Kinda program us to be… you know… gold diggers when we grow up. I mean, any girl at the steakhouse starts fucking a rich guy? I told you, the rest of us girls have to hear it all year and then some, how they get 5 to 10 days on some beach in the Caribbean… in the middle of winter."

   "Yeah. Those are the women that have to tell you 17 times… he's a doctor, you know… or, that he owns a big business and how many people work there. But… last time you told me this? You told me you couldn't wait to brag back, that you were spending a couple months in… how did you put it? Oh yeah, a romantic cabin in the woods."

   "I meant it, Panic. Back at the steakhouse? I'd brag. I'm sure some of the girls would be on my side."

   "Well… if your article wants to do away with the rich handsome prince stories, what would you replace it with?"

   "There's a few other stories, not as many, but… you ever notice in a lot of fairy tales, it was usually the woodcutter who came and killed the monster? The woodcutter was never a rich guy in the village. He was… the big tough guy. Carried an ax anywhere he went. In my fairy tale? I guess… you're the woodcutter. You killed the monster. Hell, you're out looking for another bigger monster, with Speedy. You're definitely my woodcutter. With the girls? Yeah. I'd brag."

   "Hmm. But… I'm not a prince, I'm not rich, hell… might not even be handsome. I'm just some guy with an ax."

   "Hmm. I told you before, honey. Some girls prefer pretty boys, and some girls prefer… we called it the rough and ready look in college… you're the rough and ready type. I feel spoiled… I picked you out? Because you're so nice, and you're so old fashioned with your values. The woodcutter thing? It's just icing on the cake."

   "Any dreams that aren't romantic in nature?"

   "I suppose it's no big secret, that my trouble with relationships growing up? Made me pick psychology for my degrees. Dream? I guess… like I told you, I wanna write articles about real relationships, and how to have them, and how to keep them. Real pair bonding, like I have with you. Do you know what the prince really is today?"

   "A doctor or a big business owner. Just any guy who ended up really successful with money."

   "Exactly. It's silly. Under the small town model? You'd have been a man around town, no matter what you did. I'm just sure of it. It was that way for ordinary people, for hundreds of years. We replaced it with a prince. A rich pretty boy."

   "So… your reality dream, was to first have a good relationship. So, the fantasy then, is that you figured it all out so well, that you write instruction manuals and science girl becomes the expert. And everyone else has to come to science girl to be happy."

   "Yeah. Something like that. When our crazy period is over? I guess… I have my shot at that. Living in the city, as a waitress for so long? I'm pretty sure, it opened my eyes. On what's really important in life."

   Panic chuckled.

   "What's so funny now?"

   "Oh, I'm not laughing at you. I just keep thinking about the girl that sucked off the rich guy, and bragged all year about the beach…"

   "What about it?"

   "Well… I'm into… practical dreams. How do you make something impossible? Possible. In some way at least, if you can."

   "Example…"

   "Well… when I got back from the service, then back from the equator, finally? I went to college. Hell, my GI bill from years in the Air Force covered that, I didn't even have to get into my nest egg. Figured it was smart not to waste my egg. I just worked side jobs to get through what the GI bill didn't cover. And… the regular people? At that age, people were getting into relationships. Getting married. Getting their first house, then, planning to get their dream house and all that. I need this many rooms, it has to be in this zip code, I want this kind of furniture, and this car. That shit."

   "Yeah…"

   "Everyone was showing off their houses. First houses, then some got the bigger houses. I wasn't going to waste my egg on a house… I remember one couple, bragging how their dream house? Had 12 rooms. My old house I told you about? A couple hundred a year in taxes? It has… 12 rooms and three full basements. In college, we called big old houses draft palaces. I bought a really cheap draft palace, that no one wanted. It's the last house left on the block. I don't own the whole block, that's growing in with trees and underbrush, but… it might as well be. My cat? Thinks we own the whole block. I made… the rich guys dream? Cheap and affordable. It's not in the best zip code or anything, trust me, but… if the main point was to have 12 rooms and a big yard? I got that."

   "Did you impress anyone?"

   "No. Not at all. I mean, I'm impressed as all holy hell. My cat? Impressed to hell and back… everyone else? Not so much. I paid a couple grand for this shit-hole, I never paid a mortgage in my life. Anything I want? I have a whole room to do it in. I left the outside? Look like old shit. I made the inside? Eh… it's not lifestyles of the rich and fucked up. In military terms? It's a big house, and it's clean, dry and serviceable."

   "So… you have everything except the zip code, and the episode of lifestyles of the rich and fucked up."

   "Yeah. I got the essentials of the dream house, at least the part I wanted out of it. A lot of rooms and basements, and privacy. You can't see my house from the road, if you didn't know it was there. But? It's right on the edge of the small town you talked about. Couple blocks? You can walk downtown and walk around to the shops and stuff. I liked it, because it did everything I wanted and needed, and… it was five minutes to work."

   "So… you made your dream… practical. Affordable."

   "Yeah. You have any dream, that I could make practical? You'll never know if you don't try. Ask me. You never know."

   "I guess I don't really have a dream like that."

   "Hmm. What about your beach girl? What if you could spend 6 months on a tropical beach, instead of a week or two. How far would that go, bragging with the girls at the steakhouse."

   "But… that's for actors, and royalty, and CEOs of big companies… how could we possibly…"

   Panic smiled at her.

   "Really? What are the essentials of that fantasy."

   "Well… you need a zillion dollars…"

   "Do you? Are you sure about that?"

   Merry suddenly rolled over on top of his hips and pinned his shoulders down. Smiling. Poking him gently in the chest.

   "You. Spill your guts, or, I'm getting the hot peppers out. You'll cry… and you'll beg for milk… spill it."

   Panic smiled.

   "What are the essentials of that dream? Let's list them."

   Merry was smiling and intrigued now.

   "You do it. You know something I don't know. Spill it… the hot pepper jar? Is right over there… don't push your luck, mister."

   Panic broadened his smile.

   "Well? You need, obviously… a fucking island. There's thousands of them around the world, you know."

   "Go on…"

   "That island? Has to have a warm climate. Sand. Not rocks and volcanoes. Tropical climate. There's plenty of those around."

   "Panic? It's a zillion dollars, just to park your car at the airport for six months. You're not making any sense."

   "See? You're all caught up in thinking in terms of picking up the phone, and giving all your money to some travel agent. Get out of that mentality. You just need to get to a fucking tropical island, and have pictures and video of you on the beach for 6 months, right?"

   She smiled, and rested her hands on his shoulders, gently pinning him to the mattress.

   "Keep going…"

   "Fuck airport parking. We rent a car. So we can just drop it off at our destination. We drive out to the west coast. We each have a backpack, and a duffel bag or two. We share a big footlocker we can carry. Big wooden box with handles. That's our cargo."

   "More…"

   "Well? What we give up, to be practical? No airport parking. No plane rides. No expensive shuttle to the resort. No cruise ship, where we have to put up with a bunch of rich assholes, and people pretending to be rich for a week. We instead? Go and hang around the docks. You know, where the cargo ships are. I'm sure you've seen in the movies, where those cargo containers are getting shipped around the world? We book passage on one of those."

   "How much does that cost?"

   "Not very much. We ride on a ship as big or bigger than any cruise ship you ever saw or heard of, it's just a cargo ship, not a cruise ship. We're passengers though. We stay in a teeny tiny little metal room. You have dinner with the captain and the officers. You spend a couple weeks on this giant commercial cargo ship. You're allowed to walk around, and explore it. You wanna sun yourself with no one around to bother you? Done. Romantic moonlit walks across the big, metal decks? Done. Fucking like mice in the tiny metal room they give you? Done. Hell… my ride was free, because I did some work none of the longshoremen wanted to do. I swept and mopped big metal decks and rooms. My passage? Was free. I had fun spending time in the engine room, seeing how the giant engine worked. Looking at how the electrical was laid out around the ship."

   "Where does this cargo ship take us?"

   "Anywhere. If it's not a regular destination? There's one going past it, and they'll drop you off, for a fee. It's a regular cargo run, honey. Every so many weeks? They pull into port, or, go past. When you wanna go home? They pick you up and you book passage back. It doesn't cost shit. You give up the cruise ship? We can go anywhere."

   "Hmm. Where did you go?"

   "I went to Philadelphia, and went to England. So I could backpack across Europe for a couple months. You know, I wanted to see the world, and… not be getting shot at, for once. Well… next time? I got the itch to see a tropical island, again, with no one shooting at me. A cargo ship? Dropped me off in the Fiji Islands. It's like Hawaii? Without the rich assholes. I stayed in a tent on the beach for a couple months. When you don't stay at the resort? You'd be surprised how cheap it is. I went to the town market with the locals to buy food. I made a little lean to, on the beach, near my tent. I rented a moped to get around. I had a beach all to myself, no assholes anywhere. Honey, we could go there and walk around naked and fuck on the beach every night around a fire."

   "What did you do though?"

   "Anything I wanted. I bought a face mask and fins and a snorkel. I went snorkeling about every day. I would spear fish, and eat them. I collected shellfish and crabs, and ate them, too. I would buy other stuff at the market. I hiked through the jungle. Ate coconuts. I even hooked up with a couple guys? That hunted the pigs and goats that had gotten out, and went wild. Christ, I must have had fifty pounds of jerky from that. One week? I worked out a deal, where I traded a guy my rented moped, for his canoe. I canoed around the undeveloped beach for a week. After I got my moped back? I hooked up with some divers. I bought the air to get their air tanks filled? I got to go skin diving all I wanted. I never had so much fun."

   "And… what would you do with me there?"

   "Take turns raping each other on the beach, I guess. The only thing you're missing, once you're there? No rich hotel resort. No meals prepared for you, no drinks being put in your hand. Me? I'm not so lazy I can't buy my own booze at the market, and make my own food."

   "How do you get back?"

   "The dock you come in on? Every dock has a radio. They know what ships are going through, and they talk to them on radio. I used to stop in and talk to the radio guy, just for something to do. Cause I'm a HAM radio guy. When I was ready to go? I just waited for my ship to be coming back through, and for a small fee, they sent a little jetty out to pick me up, same way they dropped me off."

   "You're serious? You're not fucking with me…"

   "No. Why would I lie to you. We could spend six months on a tropical beach. Moped around the island. Hike the jungle and the hills. Go snorkeling and skin diving. When I was there for months by myself? I actually got bored, and started working just for fun, loading and unloading ships in port. Cleaning barnacles off of ships that put in."

   Merry rolled off of his hips, and laid back, now daydreaming.

   "Wow. I can't even imagine all that… I was happy with our little romantic cabin in the woods here…"

   "I'm thinking about you, running around with that dark tan you'd have… naked moonlight wrestling on the beach every night… you, all oiled up, sunning yourself naked on our own private beach… swimming in your leather loincloth…"

   "Wow. I'm thinking about the bragging rights I'd have at the steakhouse, with the girls, after I got back. We… could actually do this? It's not expensive?"

   "Not really. Couple hundred bucks there, couple hundred bucks back. You'd shit yourself, how much local money you get on the exchange rate, when you trade a thousand bucks in for living money once you're there, and you're not staying at a stupid resort. I couldn't fold the wad of money over, it was ridiculous."

   "What was the weirdest thing you did there?"

   "Hmm. I had a pet crab. That was pretty cool…"

   "A pet crab?"

   Panic laughed, remembering.

   "Yeah. I was camping on the beach by myself for a couple days. Every night, crabs run around looking for bits of food washed up. They're still out in the morning. I was leaving crumbs of food on my plate every night I went in the tent to go to sleep? I heard this clicking one morning. I went out? The big crab was picking the crumbs off of my plate I left out by the fire every night. I started putting stuff out for him. After a while? If I forgot… he'd start banging his claw on the empty plate… you know, where's my food… that was Mister Crabby. I didn't eat him… he was my buddy."

   "Nothing dangerous there?"

   "Hmm. You never, ever go swimming after dark in the ocean. Sharks are nocturnal, and come into shallows at night. And… I did have one problem, with some pig that had gone wild. He came into my little camp, and was messing with my stuff. I got tired of chasing him off… and… you know. I made a spear out of a piece of wood. I made a little thing I lashed together, to get up on, a little platform? When he was used to coming in, bullying Mr. Crabby and taking food? I speared his ass. I ate all the pig meat I could stuff into me, then, I made jerky out of the rest of him. I ate pig jerky every day."

   "That's not so bad…"

   "Yeah. Little stuff… you have to watch you never go under a coconut tree. Coconuts fall off, and make no noise… and they'll kill you if they hit you in the head, or break your shoulder. You watch coconut trees? You're about good. Now, me? I love snakes and lizards and stuff. I bought a wildlife book, and if the snakes weren't poisonous? I picked them up and played with them. Played with all the lizards, too. Oh, and you have to watch out for certain jellyfish. Pretty to look at, but… fuck me, can some of them sting the shit out of you."

   "And you were friends with Mr. Crabby…"

   "Yeah, he was cool. I used to catch a lot of little crabs, before I ate them? And I made little racing lanes. Had crab races. Wanna guess what happened to the losers?"

   "Breakfast?"

   "Yeah… not Mr. Crabby though. I fed him enough and he learned quick to come to my plate. I left food out for him, and, I guess he didn't have to hunt anymore. He just came and hung out around my plate every night. I'd be getting drunk by myself around the fire? Talking to Mr. Crabby. I liked him, he was pretty cool. See, at night? There's a bunch of crabs running around. Mr. Crabby? Claimed my camp, I guess. He fought and chased off the other crabs. So… I talked to him, and gave him some food every night when I ate."

   "Can we really do this?"

   "Sure. We both have nest eggs, it's not like it would hurt our eggs. When you're trial is over, and my Speedy case is over? Hell, I guess that would be the time to do it."

   "Hmm. All these years, working the undercover pool? I never took any vacation time. I have a shitload built up. I guess, I could take my first big vacation. After the trial is done, and, before I started back in on the eavesdropping operation. Uncle Mikey would definitely approve of a vacation for me."

   "You'd be okay, with not being on the cruise ship?"

   "Eh. Not a big deal, considering how long the beach vacation would be, really."

   "Not staying in a resort?"

   Merry smiled.

   "Isn't it dangerous, not to stay in a resort?"

   "Some places it is, some places it isn't. On Fiji? The locals are taking a big risk to go fucking with tourists. The local police? Come down hard on that shit. That's the whole economy, really. Now, it happens, but… they're looking for a big score, to make the risk worth the reward. To the locals? There's two kinds of white people running around the island. There's resort assholes? And… adventurers."

   "We're adventurers, I assume."

   "Oh yeah. Almost all resorts are like this. See, the locals wanna find some rich guy and his wife on vacation. Lots of money, lots of expensive jewelry. They go out dressed up and flash big money around? Outside the resort area? Yeah, they're clueless tourists. Now… the guys that come in just to go rock climbing? Or skin diving? Don't stay at the resorts… don't wear expensive stuff… you don't have anything worth stealing. There's no money in climbing ropes and carabiners, there's no money in hot scuba gear. I hung out with the locals, and I went where they went. To shop, to eat. I'm just another backpack guy. No one ever bothered me. What are you gonna get anyways off me. A backpack? Some clothes? A bag of food I bought at the market? A handful of the local money was all I ever took into town at one time."

   "You never got in any trouble?"

   Panic laughed.

   "Only twice. Once? I forgot to pay my weekly rent on my moped. The local police picked me up on the moped, in the town."

   "Did you go to jail?"

   "No. I just had to pay a little extra at the moped rental place, that was all. And remember, I had been renting it already for a couple months, it was obvious I wasn't a criminal."

   "What was the second time?"

   "Oh. Mr. Crabby… I grew kinda fond of my little crab friend. I thought I was gonna take him home with me. You know, buy him a giant aquarium. Feed him leftovers. Let him run around in the bathroom and have fun exploring. I liked him. Mr. Crabby was my little buddy."

   "Hmm. What happened?"

   "The locals freaked out, you're not allowed to disturb the wildlife. I got a lecture for talking about taking Mr. Crabby home with me. I figured I was gonna smuggle Mr. Crabby onto the cargo boat? So… I was talking with the guy on the boat, on the radio. Someone on the boat? Contacted the local police… and… they had another lecture for that."

   "How did that go?"

   "Kinda funny, really. Now… you're allowed to eat crabs. I mean, it was legal for me to kill Mister Crabby, and eat him. Why the fuck ain't I allowed to take him home with me, instead of eating him? The fuck am I hurting. It's not like he was some rare, endangered crab or anything. I offered the cargo ship? Full human passage money, so Mr. Crabby could stay with me in my little ship cabin, and go home with me."

   "You had to leave Mr. Crabby on the beach."

   Panic sighed.

   "Yeah. Poor little guy. I felt so bad. I left him a big plate of food when I left. I actually kinda missed him, if you can believe it. He was fun, he would kinda dance around, and click his claws and stuff. I guess I made it so he didn't have to hunt anymore, he was just running around having fun when I was there. I called it the crab dance. I swear, he would put on a little show every day for me. With no food to hunt? He had leisure time… I would put little stuff out for him to play with, and… he had nothing better to do, he would move stuff around."

   "I can't believe it. You make it sound more fun to stay out of the resorts, than to be in a resort…"

   "Well? To me, it is. Why stay there a week, and spend thousands and thousands of dollars being there, and thousands and thousands of dollars in airport parking, plane rides, cruise ships… when you can just live there cheap, and only be in for a couple hundred bucks there and back? I don't care about gourmet dinners and staying in a resort. What does everyone do anyways… eat food, get drunk, sit on the beach. I'd rather have peace and quiet and privacy, and do that for myself. And if you were there with me? Mmm. I definitely wanna camp out on the beach, with privacy. Go hiking and swimming. Have our own little crab bakes every night. Shop in the market for fruit and vegetables. I liked spearfishing, and I usually caught more fish than I could ever eat. Mr. Crabby really made out on that deal, let me tell you."

   "Panic?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Are you gonna… you know… be up for anything?"

   "Mm. I wanted to… just… lay here with you for a while, to be honest about it. Some talking is fine, but… really? I was enjoying just laying here, running my hand over you… maybe fall asleep for another nap like that. Why? What do you wanna go and do…"

   "I, uh… I didn't wanna go anywhere. The way you just wanted to lay here with me? Touching me without doing anything? I felt really… close to you. And… the way you talk about us, not me and you? It really… you know…"

   "Oh. That."

   Merry laughed.

   "Yeah. That."

   He buried his face in her neck again…

   "Mm. Can it wait? I know I'm… back, as you put it, but… I'm kinda recharging my batteries, if that makes any sense. I'm really enjoying just laying here with you, hun."

   Merry giggled.

   "What?"

   "You're… really getting to me, with your performance this morning, you know."

   "What performance?"

   "Hm. You remember how I told you, how I got a little squirt in my panties, when you let the old couple at the store think we were married?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Well… like that."

   "Mm. How bad is it?"

   "Well… with your Mr. Sweetie Pie performance this morning, it's… getting pretty bad. Would you… check on it?"

   "Oh."

   Without taking his face from her neck, he ran his hands over her legs and stomach like he had been doing the whole time they laid and talked. He lightly just grazed her panties with the tip of his finger, and felt it.

   "Oh, Jesus…"

   "Yeah…"

   "If you're this ready now, I'm trying to imagine how ready you'll be after I take another nap here, like this…"

   "Aw, come on… please…"

   "Mm. You know, I was promised payment for what I did, I seem to remember. I told you, I wanted tater tots…"

   "I did, I got a couple big bags of them… they're right in the freezer… I got them, I swear…"

   "Yeah, but…"

   "But what… come on…"

   "Hm. I haven't eaten tater tots yet, have I? It's okay to have them frozen, but… I'm thinking I wanna wait until I eat some…"

   Merry chuckled.

   "Come on, please? I'll make you all the tater tots you want, right now…"

   "You should have thought of that? Before we had breakfast, hun. I'm already full. Now? I'm thinking you're gonna have to wait. Until at least lunch… maybe dinner time… I don't know."

   Merry laughed now.

   "Come on, how about just a quickie… this is getting to be a borderline emergency down there…"

   "Mm. Rules are rules, hun. I'm wondering how much more ready you'll be, the longer I make you wait…"

   "Oh, you are so getting raped, as soon as you fall asleep, mister."

   Panic had fun laying there, playing with her through her panties and stopping.

   "Oh, for Christ's sake…"

   "Well… maybe if you begged a little…"

   Merry resorted to kissing and begging and pleading, for a while. It got her nowhere, except teased and played with, and every time she tried to scoot her panties off, he pulled them back up and threatened to go to sleep. After more begging and pleading and getting teased more, he finally whispered in her neck to "say it".

   Merry knew what that meant, and in between rounds of begging and pleading, she had to whisper her new trick into his neck. I love you, over and over again, amid all the begging and teasing he put her through. He finally told her that if she got up on top? She could have a quickie. Merry threw her wet panties on the pillow next to them, and sat up on him. He teased her how wet she was, that he could hear it. Merry actually blushed and smiled red faced, which was a rare thing for her. He had her stop and beg a little now and then, while he teased her more.

   When they were finishing up and he was close to done, he had her promise to make tater tots for lunch, to be eaten in bed. Stopping touching her, while she was on the edge… produced the promises he wanted. He touched her enough to give her what she wanted, a short time before he was done. When Merry slid red faced off of him, and laid down next to him for his nap, he wiped both of their wet areas off with her now all but soaked panties, and tossed them over to the side.

   He went back into laying on her, once again in the mirror image of how she normally laid on him to sleep, breathing into her neck. Gently holding her down by laying half on her, with a loose hug.

   "Hmm. After lunch? It's Sunday… we'll check and see if the Christmas package got opened up yet. Don't check on it without me… I don't want a string of internet searches to leave a trail, just in case anyone was thinking about it. I doubt it, but… no sense in not being extra careful. You promise me, you won't check without me?"

   "I promise…"

   "Mm. Can I get my nap now?"

   "Yeah, you can get your nap now… what do you want with your damn tater tots for lunch…"

   "Merry Pork Sashimi. If it's available, I didn't read the menu…"

   "Hmm. It's on the menu. Trust me… it's on the menu. I promise."

   "Mm. No covers, okay? It's warm out… we don't need covers. And can you stay here, while I sleep?"

   "Yes…"

   "You promise?"

   "I promise."

   He fell asleep into another nap breathing into her neck. Right before he actually went under, he heard her say…

   "I don't believe this. I actually traded tater tots for sex."

   They both chuckled at the way she put it. As his breathing slowed, his hand idly rubbing over her skin seemed to slow with it. Merry neither heard nor felt anything except breathing into her neck after that. She got a nap herself after a while.