Giggles.

Couple of kids, really.

I went to the bathroom and soaked for a long time in the deep tub. Bill was spelling Ryan as security at the Corner and I had most of the night to myself. I took a book with me to read while I relaxed. I managed a whole two pages before I crashed.

His voice was rough, yet had the oddly gentle note that told me he noticed more than he was ever about to let on.

I attempted to get out of the tub without behaving like a pile of rusted machinery. Too late…joints had stiffened, muscles had cramped and it hurt like hell to move.

My fingers and toes had gone white and wrinkly. I was a sight to stop trains. Bill put a strong hand under my elbow and an arm across my wet back and almost bodily lifted me out of the tub. Almost because I fought him every inch of the way, I was stiffened up, not crippled. And I grabbed a towel the second I had my balance.

I dried myself off and dropped one of his old t-shirts over my head. They were my sleeping attire of choice anymore. Bill reached out and fingered the fragile cotton.

I hung the towel over the rack and made my way to the big bed. Behind me I heard the sound of a t-shirt almost but not quite landing on the laundry pile and then the musical jingle of chains and keys and pocket change as his jeans slid over his hips to the floor. I was still working on getting the bed turned down when he joined me. He yanked down the blankets and rolled onto the mattress with his usual ruthless efficiency.

He turned to the clock radio and began to fuss with it.

He found a station he thought he might like and rolled back to face me. His eyes were impossible not to read and my knees wobbled. I sank unsteadily beside him. His question had aroused a lot of memories that I was usually able to keep under strict control. Now they were loose, and I examined them.

I saw him the way he had looked the night he first came to me, immensely strong. He had put me up against my bedroom wall and had held me there effortlessly. I saw him down in the basement of the house my boys still lived in, a glint in his eye and a half smile on his face as he did a slow strip-tease - and then dumped every stitch of clothes he removed into the washing machine before backing me up against the appliance. I drew a ragged breath as I pictured him the first time we visited the cabin, white bandage against brown skin. And there had been a memorable half hour or so in the kitchen of the first place in Texas, with his hands everywhere and my clothes all over the place.

He didn't give a damn what I was thinking. He didn't give a damn if I was thinking. He knew what I was thinking.

Just as I was convinced Bill was going to make a move of some sort, he noticed the incredibly bad Eric Clapton . Instead of pulling me down into an embrace rough with need, he turned with a growl to the radio and the tuning knob.

I had no real argument with that. I waited for him and he was Johnny on the spot. For a few minutes I was able to lose myself in what he was doing.

I clawed at the radio. Fleetwood Mac! Eurgh! I aimed for KQRS and they did not disappoint. They were playing 'Smooth.'

The tuning knob spun. I thought he was going to spin it right off and something told me the radio was in trouble.

This was a sore point with Bill, certainly nothing to debate at delicate times. He had been severely pissed off that 'Men In Black' had implied that Elvis was an alien. He had ripped Tom a new asshole because of it. I decided to trace the line of his breastbone instead of ask him to back up his statement. For a few minutes, it worked really well.

He reached for me with one arm and the radio with the other and for a while I was able to forget that the radio sucked.

I struggled to keep a straight face.

Bill listened to the song 'Mambo No. 5' with a steadily darkening countenance. He managed to restrain himself right up until the brass section tripped into the bridge. That was apparently the threshold of his tolerance. With that vile speed of his, he caught up the radio in one big paw and rolled out of bed. He stalked to the window, threw up the sash and hurled the radio through the screen. He slammed the window and turned his full attention to me.

I found I was far too keyed up to sleep, so I wandered downstairs thinking I would watch QVC until I was bored.

Sam was parked in front of the 'Noah death scene' and he had a weirdly familiar expression on his craggy face. It took me a minute to place it, then I realized that it was identical to the one Bill had worn seconds before he destroyed my Sony Dream Machine.

He waved angrily at the big screen, which at that point was full of Tom's hang-dog face.

Trust me, Sam. You're twice that hard-assed.

That seemed reasonable. Sam wasn't the sort of man to allow his personal feelings to interfere with his professional conduct. At least, I didn't think he was.

I knew he meant Servicewide. I could tell he was proud of that record, and he had every reason to be.

Sam turned off the television as Tom began his major run through the freighter after Wesley Snipes. He looked like he needed an antacid.

It felt like a quiz and if my answers were incorrect I would be in more difficulty than I could ever imagine. I said the only thing I could think of.

Very cautious. Very.

I pretended to be aghast.

The Voice of God on High…well, Strannix, anyway, rumbled down from above.

Two small figures appeared at the top of the stairs. One was hopeful, the other troubled, and both were rubbing their eyes appealingly.

Sam leaned over, spoke quietly into my ear.

They were coming to blows up there. Sam and I hurried to head off the bloodshed. We separated them and took them to bed.

Bill, solid muscle, came around the door and went up against Sam, pure granite. Bill raised his chin.

I gave up.

Elmore, young and powerful and breathtaking in a shirtless state, surged into the hallway and over to the writhing balls of hate.

Bill was ready to go one with Elmore, but I shoved his bad self back into the bedroom. I heard Elmore talking to Sam.

I was glad I couldn't hear any more. And I was glad Bill hadn't heard any of it.