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   This was you first night's sleep in a bed since what, Harrisburg? Youngstown?   Typically it had been shared with someone, at times someone whose name was learned in passing, sharing a hotel room with another half-dozen cold souls, and those could be the 'good' times.   The worst were the modern-day flop houses and derelict buildings; the places where you would doze leaning against your backpack in some corner of the room you deem safest in a shivering sweat, buck knife always in hand, the guy next to you tweaking and everyone else like skeletal coyotes roaming for prey.   Survival did not lie in the fittest, but in the animal will.   What you were not willing to do the guy next to you would, to the end of his humanity, or perhaps revealing the essence thereof.   This was his education, and he had graduated with honors.   He had learned how to fight, to feed, to run, and how to survive.

   He understood all of this lying in the bed of his father's cabin, the prospective on which seemed to be fading memories.   A journey through ruin, flames and over water, it made him strong, it had led him here, but to what end.   After all this time, to argue for fate....So what now?   This was no fable.   What now?

   At least the bed upstairs was as overdone as everything else his father touched.   Meghan had insisted that he sleep in it with her, going so far as corralling him after his refusal and sack-carrying him upstairs, despite his squeaking protests.   It was to be a spooning, one of her hands around his waist to hold him in place even as she slept.   Any attempts to slip away were met with several others wrapping themselves around him like the Leviathan around a hapless caravel.   All of this was not all together unpleasant; the warmth two people can share.   He had slept deeper than he had in years.   It was nice to be desired, to be taken care of and protected...

   It was darker now as he awoke than when he had finally gave in to his captor.   The firelight that had once reflected off the roof over the balcony had died away, replaced with an eerie grey-blue glow.   Meghan had disappeared, in the moment he was not concerned.   She was a big girl...she had done fine by herself for many years before he had come along.   Hell, she was a good nine years older than him.   What had possessed him to think he could do better for her, even control her?   So what now?   His hubris had mettled in someone's life, tore them away from everything they knew because he knew 'better', all of it with no reason other than a social experiment.   What was next, Hollywood?   Jay Leno?   Celebrity endorsement deals?   There had been no endgame.   In his heart, he knew he did not really care about her.   No one who would have done this to someone possibly could.

   Grey tried to distinguish the knots in the dim tones of the smooth wood that made up roof, trying not to think or feel.   A ray of light, sharp as a blades edge, pierced the space between window and roof which soon widened into a cone, drawing out the rich red color of the hardwood where it shown, and the browns of the recesses and the backsides of the whole-log crossbeams where it had yet to reach.   He slipped out a toe from the coarse tan plush down comforter to check the temperature.   It all seemed well enough, at least a bit warmer than the warehouse, the warmest he had been in a good six months.

   It all seemed too easy, and all he ever had to do was to take advantage of things that were not his, or not yet his, really things that he had earned but were not yet given.   This cabin, it had been abandoned and not even missed, and now was being used for the healing it had seemed to do before, just not for him.   Everything in it was the same as when he came here as a child, every piece a happy memory.   The night’s mom would make a simple dinner in the cramped kitchen and eating it at the bar with dad.   Playing Monopoly at the little card table while being chided for not paying attention, instead watching the bright sunset, or the birds, or making faces on the glass.   Later he would fall asleep watching the fire, tomorrow stalking animals, climbing trees...

   It was as much his as anyone's...and Meghan...he had better find her.   Resigned to this, he rolled out of bed in his undershirt and boxers, a shiver running through as his feet hit the cold hardwood.   She must be in the kitchen, or the bathroom, showering maybe, but it is so quiet.   It is not like she could hide.   He grabbed a pair of jeans out of his backpack, slipping them on while passing hand crafted dressers nearly empty and unadorned.   He stopped mid-stride at the balcony at its edge as he spotted her.

   Meghan stood perfectly straight, still facing the window-wall near the stone fireplace, not possibly more than two feet away from the glass itself in full view of the rising sun.   Her legs were together as one, her limbs held palms to the sun at almost puzzling angles except for the seeming need to grab hold as much of the light as possible.   A sun that shined only on her, the rest of the room cast in her long shadow.   If she was still breathing, he could not tell.   All this he took in that first instant, only to stumble as an eternity later he realized another thing, her sweat top lie heaped on the floor, near the bottoms still lying around one ankle.   She was nude.

   It had seemed so natural at first.   In a way he supposed that there was a truth to this.   It was almost as if Michelangelo had finally returned to create a feminine David, or some trickster a fine parody of the Venus de Milo.   She was the image of classical beauty, not swayed by the fads of the day.   And not so large anymore, standing so vulnerable, without the distension of ill-fitting clothing.   Strong, yes, and it stood revealed in everything from her club-like calves to her heart shaped buttocks, to the piercing spearheads of her shoulders and arms, but not distorted like a bodybuilder, but strength softened by feminine flesh, and every inch shaped by a master and admirer.   A woman who's power and form came from natural sources, and from her day-to-day lifestyle.   'Healthy', he could not describe her any other way.

   As he watched and wondered and worked his way downstairs, he noticed that Meghan was not completely still.   Her head was tilting back, her arms waved slightly, almost mimicking the movement of the trees outside from the morning breeze, a remnant from the passing storm.   Her light toned skin atremble in the light.   He imagined her eyes were closed, hoping that had found peace with her past and with the world that surrounded her.
   Light toned?   Wasn't it lighter in the warehouse?   It was pale and freckled with only a hint of rosy.   It should look if anything whiter in the bright light now.

    There was no reaction to his presence as he dared another step, and a smaller second, to almost where he could have touched her.   She seemed to have darkened even another shade as he came close, her copious freckles quickly fading into the background of her skin.   In minutes, there was a tan that typically took weeks, and not a burn, a real bronzing that most would be envious of.   There was something here, something subtle and again more than human in play which set Grey to wonder if something was happening to her that could not be reversed, some new quirk in the bizarre genes that had created such a beautiful creature.   She was still breathing, very slowly and deep, nearly unnoticeable.

   "Meghan..."   There was no response to his low voice.   Grey took her hand closest to him and squeezed it firmly, repeating himself, "Meghan!"   Her eyes sleepily opened.

   "Oh, ohhh, ah....ah, hurm."

   "Are you alright?   Do you need something?"

   "Oh...uhm, No...no.   I had just...just forgotten how good the sun...how it felt."   Her face turned to his, slowly, in micro-spurts as if it was painful to move.

   "Meghan, are you taller?"   Grey gave her a once over, this new mystery throwing everything he thought he knew into disarray.

   "No..no, same as always.   I can tell."

   "You sure?"

   "Is there not enough of me now?   You have all of me right now to see.   Figure it out," she snapped at him, when only moments ago she had seemed serine.   After a month of wandering though the situation blind.   All the shocks and double backs, searching for the way forward as she shifted from dismissive, to flippant, or childlike, lonely, then coy and back.   Instability he was used to, but this was all of it and worse, and returned full circle to his fears.

   Meghan took a step back and turned to face him, her legs landing a shoulder's length apart.   His vision became every inch of her as she piled her hands on the notch of her hips and each other, her pectoral muscles, branching as the many supports of a spider's web, becoming taut, reflexively causing her breasts to nod in approval at his attention.   With such a foundation, on such a woman, it seemed necessary that they stood so prominent, almost an aesthetic counterbalance lest anyone forget.   A bra seemed superfluous, at least for support, as they shared her personality, bold, uncompromising, and ultimately yielding.   The inner arc of her breasts just touched at their midpoints creating the void of an hourglass, while the slow arc outer sweeps hid a portion of the forearms of her highest arms and the biceps of the middle from his sight, ending in a perfect half-circle a few inches above the end of her ribcage.   Her areolas stood as round pinnacles just south and out of center in a sea of tanned flesh, relaxed, perhaps even proportionally small; the sea itself always convex at every visible angle, and always many inches full.   If only because of their sheer size she would fail the pencil test, but not a three pack.

And as she stood, he could never hope to reach both of her highest shoulders simultaneously, maybe her chin with one if he stood on his toes.   The best he could do was her lowest set if he stretched, and if he could work his way around her body.   All this tapered into her usually concealed high waist which, even if quite in proportion to the rest of her, and visually pleasing, was comparable in size to his and level to his chest.   If it was due to the remnant of baby fat or the bulge of masked ab muscles, it wasn't entirely flat, but all the more beautiful as it widened again to hips and thighs that contained all necessary power and more to drive all of this Amazonian beauty forward, on tree-trunk legs that in-between held an enticing crimson fan.   He tried to imagine her doing sit-ups, bringing a smirk to his face as he imagined all the motions involved.   The poor bits of suspended cloth that had to struggle to keep her contained, and if it was even possible, out of the way.

   "Keep staring, you had your chance."

   Grey shook his head to restart his stalled brain.   "This wasn't another one of your ploys."

   "Nope...just kind of lost track of things.   I'll put something on so you can function again.   Anyways, it only seems fair after I saw you in the buff.   You can stop drooling now by the way."   Reflexively he wiped the corner of his mouth with his wrist, and he was.   This was something, an evolution, or reconciliation between her passions and their repression.   He his chance at this and had turned it down.   She was right.   There must be something wrong with him.   "Something warm I think, we're going hiking.   After ten years, I feel the need to get out some."

   This would be the last of the shocks for Grey this morning, at least he hoped, the next one might introduce him to the reaper.   The pipes would manage a thaw in fits and spurts of ice that progressively lessened through the morning.   Breakfast was atypically light.   Meghan picked and fidgeted at the edges of the scrambled eggs and hash browns, interested at almost anything else.   She reminded Grey of a preschooler in the midst of a sugar rush, and eventually he finished off her plate himself, letting a groan of relief as his fork dropped onto an empty plate.   Breakfast was something novel to him, and this had been way too much of one for him.   His waistline would show for it too, but this would no doubt be to Meghan's delight.   The past several weeks had been good for him, even if he was still quite thin, at least he was not a skin sack of bones and sinew, and Meghan would never let him forget it every time she could.

   The snow had let up sometime in the night as they had slept, but not before it had left behind over foot of dry powder on wherever had enough surface counter to gravity.   It had just settled in, and wasn't going anywhere for a while on this chill winter day.   As sunny as the day was, it lack the strength to melt anything.   In any case it seemed this would be a reprieve rather than a retreat.   More dark clouds seemed to be gathering at the edge of sight.   Grey cursed himself the entire time he watched them gather. Socks were doubled up, to where they poked through the holes in his shoes, fingerless wool gloves were dug out of the backpack.   Grey would leave looking every bit his lifestyle, not that there was anyone else to notice.

   Meghan shot him intermittent glares for him at the door wearing the same jade sweater from yesterday, a pair of her 'nice' leather gloves, jeans tipped in old-school white leg warmers to bridge the distance between them and her boots.   She seemed 'normal', as normal as someone as an adult stuck in a child's playhouse could.   Her other arms leaked out limply underneath the sweater's hem, and held each other at the wrist, but her foot tapped an impatient rhythm.   However, it was Grey who was the first out the door to face a thirty degree slap to the face while Meghan's iron seemed to soften a bit.   She hesitated for a moment before ducking her head under the door frame, hands braced against it, checking left, then right, and left again to make sure nothing was going to blindside her before pushing herself out a side of shoulders at a time, her lower arms slipping into the warmth of her sweater.

   The light was everywhere, reflecting in the snow and smooth, almost glossy boards of the cabin, chasing even the thought of shadow away and leaving a distorting glow on everything in the clearing.   Meghan stood at the bottom of the stars, trying to shield eyes conditioned to filtered gloom with her right palm.   The clearing itself sloped upwards in all directions forming a shallow, lopsided bowl on one edge of which the cabin sat.   Even through signs of neglect, its rustic exterior showed no signs of disrepair.   Anything in size from rocks to boulders could be seen where the snow had not managed to blanket them completely, along with evergreen saplings that had managed past the tree-line.

   "The last time we came here together, I was still in middle school.   So what would that make it, eight, no, nine years...at least.   My father made it a point back then to keep the clearing free in case of fire, but that just doesn't seem to be the case anymore.   I remember it well because of this,"   Grey tossed his head towards a small bushy pine just feet from the near side of the cabin near Meghan, just shorter then himself, his hands warming in jacket pockets.   "I insisted we leave it.   It was near Christmas then too."

   "Christmas... I had forgotten all about it with everything that's been going on.   I never sent cards out to my family...dad is going to be so disappointed."

   "I wish I would have reminded you.   It's not something I would normally think about.   You want me to go find you something at the store?"

   "Maybe...I've just been so out of sorts lately, being kidnapped and drug out to the middle of nowhere..."

   "Kidnapped?   How is that even possible?"   The chill nipped at Grey fingers as he threw his hands towards Meghan, exasperated that he could not read this as serious or a way to throw him off again.

   "KIDNAPPED...ME!   Ya got anything else but trees and rocks for me?"

   "Well...there's nowhere to go but up.   There's a creek behind the house, it'll be iced over of course."

   "Show me."

   The forest of pines and furs, with bare birch and spruce mixed in, welcomed its prodigal daughter and her paramour amongst them.   The path was rough as they worked their way on uneven terrain between tree and rock where sun and shade shared domain.   Only in the most sheltered places on the downside off a tree trunk, or the under a sheltering rock, could dormant grass be spied.   Snow hid the rest, the roots, brush and rabbit holes that tripped and snared them, making the going slow.   Meghan had the worst time of it, her over-sized feet unsuited and unused to any of this.   Elbows were constantly stretching what should have been a baggy sweater, attached to arms which were unused to being contained and tried desperately to maintain a balance.   Despite this, moods were light.   Nothing here could affect a sour mood; they had no other place to be.

   The creek they found to no surprise had frozen entirely.   It seemed in mid-flow, the smoky ice forming falling ropes from pool to pool.   It felt as if all of nature had decided to take the winter off, until a snowshoe hare shattered the mood, bolting into a wild blueberry bush in fear of something it surely had never seen before.   Meghan almost bent over in two laughing at the rabbit's fear, and her reaction puzzled Grey to no end.   The creek would become their guide as they continued uphill, until both were quite ready for a breather.   Grey brushed some snow off of granite boulder that rose out of the earth to level with his chest, both creating a seat and providing relief for his thirst.   With a quick hop, he settled in to enjoy the view of the mountains and the narrow valley between made by the river below.

   "That's gross!"

   "It's cleaner then the stuff out of your tap at home."

   "I never drink out of my tap, didn't you notice?"   He offered her a handful, which she took, albeit reluctantly, and stared at, not satisfied until every flake was inspected.

   "Make a decision before it melts."

   She gave it a taste with the tip of her tongue, then a small bite with her incisors before coming to the conclusion that she had survived, and pushed her luck with a full bite.   "I never realized that I was a germaphobe too..."

   "I wouldn't go that far.   What do you think of the view?"

   "Honestly, it's tolerable...that other part of me hates it.   She keeps reminding me that behind every tree there's someone spying on me.   I'm just trying to ignore her.   I have to prove to myself that I am stronger than....myself...I guess.   Are you warm enough Gary?   You didn't come out here in much."

   "I'm fine as long as I keep moving.   It's not like I've lost my resilience in this pampered living."

   "You want to sit on momma's lap?   I'll keep you warm..."

   "You're completely erratic, you know that?"

   "I don't know what I know, or don't know, or what's right...or what I am supposed to do...or...what I just said.   I am irredeemably lost.   I am fortunes fool...or something.   I guess what I'm trying to say is...it is all your fault."   The corners of Meghan's mouth betrayed a smile, as did the twinkle in her eye.

   "O really?   But are you happy?"

   "I am living.   Better a few hours of life then a lifetime of survival."

   They sat a long while on that rock, absorbing into the panorama that surrounded them.   The indistinct smudges of green, grey, brown and white each hid a fear, but also mystery, possibly joy.   To hide from the brush strokes and to lose the beauty on the canvas, it was no guarantee that these things wouldn't find you, or that what seemed to be a disaster could actually be the best thing that happened to you, in time.   Cars drifted silently miles away over the freeway.   A small flock of house finch chirped and huddled together on white birch.   Grey relented to a long suppressed shiver, breathing out a heavy sigh through vibrating, pursed lips.   Meghan pulled him in close with an exposed arm, wrapping it around him, laying out a noogie for good measure with the other, while claiming that the friction would warm him up.   Grey swatted playfully, and pushed at her to secure his release, only to lean against her side once more.   Neither wanted to leave, but human urges could not forever be denied.

   "I really should have eaten something this morning.   I'm starting to feel the climb, and the elevation."

   "We're really not that high up..."

   "It's something then.   I'm feeling light headed."

   "Like your drunk?"

   "I've never been drunk..."

   "Never?"

   "Once, after Luke...the first guy I mentioned...I drank a bottle of Jack Daniels, didn't even cry."

   "Remind me never to try to get you drunk to get..."

   Meghan cut him off.   "What was that?   I heard a stick snap."

   "Are you sure?"

   "God dammit, I'm sure!" she forced her terror into a whisper.   "We need to go."

   "Are you strong enough to go?"

   "Be down the hill before you."   Meghan was already on her feet, needing just a moment before making her way back into the forest with the hapless Grey holding an unsteady hand.   This time he heard something as well, something hard to discern through the muffling forest.

   "Was that a sneeze?"

   "More like a growl..."

   It was then they stumbled on something as they cleared a draw, covered in a thick black coat, standing large like a man.   It had smelled them first, and let out a short growl as it cocked it head back to return to all fours.

   "It's a black bear."

   "Impossible, it should have been in hibernation a month ago."

   "Would you stop the brainiac and use your eyes.   It's right in front of us."   The bear stood leery of them both, not knowing what to do with this imposing challenger in his territory, and its smaller mate.   He roared, threatening them with both bellowing sound and jagged sharpness.   "Gary, get behind me. I'll protect you."   Meghan's hidden arms revealed themselves, rolling up her sweater, one prodding Grey back with a certain unexpected gentleness as she crouched.

   "That is easily the most insane thing you have ever said.   He's as big as you, and a born predator.   We are invading HIS home.   Look at the situation from his perspective."   Grey tried to twist her around, knowing it was futile as he attempted it, next making an attempt to shake her by slamming into her with a shoulder, only to slip and stumble into a well-padded buttock.

   "I'm still bigger."

   "So what?"

   "I won't let him touch you."

   "He won't, just back down, slowly.   Work around him.   Let him think he won."

   "Grey...I'm shaking again."   He could see it in her fingers, even in the knees.   Bewilderment replaced the tension in her face and body as she swayed a bit, and forgot about the danger.

   "It's the adrenalin...trust me, we will be fine."

   The bear raised his nose to them, huffing as he tried to smell what these things were.   One was as big as a moose, but smelled like one of those food droppers into those large rocks that yelled when knocked over.   This would show this food moose who's the boss, sauntering over to a near fallen log, showing his cool.   He stood up once more, slamming his front paws on a fallen log as he fell, and proceeded to shake it several times before tearing off pieces of bark with its claws.   'That'll do it.'

   "Just make your way down the hill, and watch your feet.   We don't need anything sudden to startle him.   Let him think he's the dominant one."   The bear stood his ground and watched from his log, and soon was out of sight behind many layers of trees.   "We should be fine if he doesn't follow us."

   "That was amazing."    Meghan kept looking back, in more awe then fear, until a root almost upended them both.   "You were right, for once...that was something."

   Grey glanced at the sun hanging over the western mountains, guessing the time as they finally found the cabin's clearing.   He called in triumph to Meghan, who trudged head hanging many yards behind.   The bear had been lost, but so had the creek for a good while, and Grey had to hear all about it all the way down the mountainside.   But here it was again and he was a little smug for it, and here was his opportunity for payback and he took it.   A snowball landed squarely in the center of Meghan's chest, exploding into a vertical wave outwards from chin to bellybutton.   This was the gunshot.   It was a race to the door, with Grey laughing as he ran until he realized the physics of what would happen if all that red faced inertia came in contact with his body.   His eyes widened and his pace quickened, and it became Pamplona instead.   He just managed to get up the steps just before a hand snatched his ankle, another arm slipping between the steps as she half-crashed into them.

   "Get back here worm!   I demand justice!" Meghan growled from one knee, trying to pull her arm out.

   "How about an early dinner?   Will that satisfy honor?"

   "Maybe...for now..."

   Snow was shaken off at the door.   A fire was rekindled.   Socks now soaked in melted snow were hung on the mantelpiece to drip and dry in the heat.   Meghan already had a bag of bagel chips in her top left hand, while taking turns picking through it with two opposite hands mindlessly.   The sweater was off, revealing a sienna, wide sleeved knit blouse with a color clashing hodgepodge of long sleeves poking through its own sleeve.   The cuffs of these undershirts fell short at various lengths on her forearms.   She strolled around the living room taking everything at leisure for the first time, pausing near a pair of patterned burgundy upholstered chairs and an ornately crafted dark oak end table which rested near the front door.

   "Grey, is this you?"   Meghan called from over her shoulder.   She had noticed a portrait in which both frame and colors had caused it to blend into the wall.

   "What?"

   "There's a picture of you and...your parents I guess..."

   "Oh yes, I forgot about that."   He tossed a larger log on the fire, only glancing in her direction.

   "Your mom, is she Asian?   You're Asian?"

   "She's Half-Vietnamese.   She was born during the war to a US Marine and a woman he had met in the early days there.   His commanding officer found out about the immorality and got involved, and she was brought here.   It wasn't a happy marriage...anyways, it probably has something to do with why she married my father, and my birth, the wheel spinning itself endlessly."

   "She is beautiful, so dainty, that flawless skin and silky hair.   Her hand is on your shoulder...she certainly looks happy."

   "I think I was nine them."

   "Gary, you need to see this."   Meghan checked on him, motioning him over.

   "I have..."

   "Come on."   She crossed the living room, ready to pull him by his ear if she had to, only to forget the painting as she saw Grey limp.   She stopped stride.   "Grey, your feet, they're swollen."

   "They got a little chill in the snow.   I'll be fine.   I barely feel it anymore."

   "Bullshit, they look like they're about to explode.   Look how inflamed they are."   She pointed at them with her two left arms outstretched.

   "It happens, I'm fine."

   "Sit down on the sofa."

   "Would you knock it off?!?"

   "Sit!   You won't win this."   Grey begrudgingly complied with her, not bothering to hide his anger.

   "You look like a clown in that outfit."

   "Well, they say to dress in layers."   She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, their heads level.   With a pair of hands, she handled each foot, massaging them firmly to bring the flow back.   Her final pair of arms rested on her knees.

   "Careful!   Please..."

   "What?"

   "Not so hard, it's like a thousand needles."

   "Sorry."   She tried cupping them in her hands, almost covering them completely, squeezing them slowly, softly.

   Grey laid back, tried closing his hands, tried to relax.   "I'm sorry, I can't do this."   He sat up.   He looked out the window, dragging his fingers through his hair."

   Meghan slumped as she sat, her shoulders sagged, dragging arms on the floor.   "Why not?   It's helping you."

   "I'm fine.   You don't need to baby me."

   "Does it not feel good?"

   "It feels fine."

   "Then what is it?" Meghan pleaded with a pair of hands.

   "I don't need someone mothering me... I already have one!"   Grey exploded, catching Megan's eyes with his.   At once he regretted this, hanging his head.

   "You like to be all logical.   Were you 'mothering' me when you took out that shard from my foot?"

   "No..."

   "You were just helping.   Let me help you too."

   "But look at you...look at me..."

   "And all I want...I wish is that you would get past it, to be the only person in the world to look at me instead.   Why can't you do that?"

   "I'm sorry...there are just, things...realities."

   "You think I don't know that?    Why do you think I fuck with you?   Now sit there while I make lunch."   Meghan drug herself up to standing.

   "But you don't fit in the kitchen, watch your head."

   "Stop it...I can see that.   Literally, it's right at my eyes.   Do you warn someone in a wheelchair that there are stairs?"

   Grey opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out, which satisfied Meghan to no end.   She found her way around fine without him, hunched over, making sandwiches out of whatever Grey had managed to grab the night before.

   "...I think I can face the world if I just have you at my side, but I need your support.   Can you be that for me?"   She handed him one on a paper plate, startling him as he sat leaning on the bar looking dejected, his forearms resting on his thighs.   I took a moment for him to recognize her.

   "I don't know.   It's a...tall...order." he smirked.

   "I hate you."

   "I know."

   One fire replaced another as heaven's door closed once again.   Grey found a deck of cards and some authentic ceramic poker chips to pass the time, as Meghan grabbed the small table from between the chairs.   They took a seat by the fire, Meghan insisting on sitting on the floor opposite him, his feet still smarting even though he would not admit it.   It started out friendly, and with conversation floating easy between them two, until each could no longer hold back their adversarial nature.   Grey tried mind games.   Meghan took her loose top off and shook herself loose a bit revealing a peach shoulder less frilly blouse, pulled down and over an open shouldered turtle neck half-shirt, which in turn covered a long sleeved crop top where her top arms exited the open sleeve.   She played with her cards, or the chips, or whatever was handy, distracting him with her new realized dexterity.   It all snow balled from there.

   "You cheated!"

   "I don't know what you are talking about."

   "Gary, I saw you!   You dealt from the bottom of the deck."

   "I assure you that you're are mistaken, perhaps it was a trick of the flames."

   "Liar!"

   Meghan pushed herself up to her knees, Grey knocking the table over as he fell back onto the sofa, knocking cards, chips, cups and pretzels everywhere. Before her could crawl away, she was on top of him, her top arms pinning his, her ass straddling his thighs.

   "And what is this?"   She tugged at his cuff of his sleeve, pulling out an ace.   "Really, could you at least be original?"

   "Whoops..."

   "And what am I going to do with you?   I fed you, clothed you, these are mine right here."   He was frozen, and at her mercy.   She lowered her face towards his, his blood rising as her free arms roamed his chest wildly, unbuttoning his pants.

   "Meghan, do you know what you're..."

   Before he could finish she had dragged body up to hers by the armpits, sliding him across the sofa like a rag doll, pulling his face to hers.   Her tongue dived into his mouth to meet a momentary resistance as he feared he would choke, before he went with the feeling and each intertwined.   She moaned, his eyes closed.   She dropped him back on the sofa before he understood what was going on.

   "See, you're not afraid of me anymore.   I like it."

   "I've created a monster."

   "Let's get out of here.   I need Christmas cards for my family.   I'm not missing that even for you."