- We Can Steele Be Friends
Date: Wednesday, November 1, 2000
- Steele Chic <steelechic@hotmail.com>
We Can Steele Be Friends.
Written by SteeleChic - steelechic@hotmail.com
Title submitted by Joerg Plate - Plate@Provi.de
Remington woke to the muted sounds of Laura's laughter. He cracked
one eye open to confirm his suspicion that she was no longer
in bed with him. Instantly he missed her warmth and pushed up
onto one elbow, rubbing his eyes sleepily with the other hand.
Laura laughed again, a wonderful lilting sound that Remington
realized he'd heard far too infrequently of late.
"Come on now, stop it!" she gasped through her giggles,
in a tone of voice Remington was sure he'd never heard before,
"You're really just too much!"
There was silence as Laura listened, Remington surmised, to what
whoever was on the other end of the phone was saying.
"Uh-huh," she murmured. Then, "OK, great! Bye."
Remington lay back on the pillows as he waited for Laura to reappear.
She padded back into the bedroom wearing shorts and a sweatshirt
and sat down on the side of the bed to put on her sneakers.
"Good morning," she said.
"Laura, what are you doing?" he mumbled.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked, before hastily
adding, "I was just returning the last of Friday's messages.
You know, when we left early to go see a movie?"
She leaned over to tie her laces and Remington reached out, his
fingers finding their way beneath her fleecy top to travel teasingly
over the bumps of her spine.
"And now where are you going?" he asked, as his fingers
toyed with the clasp of her bra.
"I'm going for a run," she answered, something she'd
taken to with increasing regularity recently, "You're welcome
to join me," she offered, knowing that he would decline.
"But Laura, it's Sunday," he protested.
"You know what they say," she said, sitting up, giving
Remington the space to curve his hand around her belly and up
to her ribs, "No rest for the - wicked!" she finished
on a sigh, as his hand closed over her breast, his fingertips
pushing cotton aside to find its peak with unnerving accuracy.
"Is that so?" he murmured, tugging so that she fell
back onto the bed beside him, "Well, in that case,"
he pinned her easily, "Come here and let me have my wicked
way with you."
His dark head lowered and he kissed her, and with a sigh of pleasure,
Laura opened to him. It felt so good, but then, it always had.
Once they'd finally experienced their first time together physically,
that area of their relationship had never been a problem.
If only it were the same for the other areas, Laura thought fleetingly,
but as his lips and hands worked their magic on her, she decided
her run could wait.
*********************
She went out after lunch, leaving Remington happily ensconced
in front of an Ingrid Bergman movie they'd discovered on TV.
Laura enjoyed running. She'd taken to going out every now and
again ever since she'd competed in that triathlon a couple of
years back. Gradually she'd started going more and more. She'd
found she loved the feeling of freedom it gave her, with the
wind in her hair, clearing the cobwebs from
her mind.
Many a case strategy had been formed while she was out and about,
and not only that, but she found it gave her time to reflect
on personal issues as well. Not to mention the fact that it was
a convenient form of exercise, especially as she was beginning
to suspect that she was gaining weight due to Remington's impeccable
culinary skills.
But it was the personal issues that were the reason for her run
today. As she found her pace, concentrating on the rhythm of
her feet as they hit the pavement and her regular cleansing breaths,
Laura freed her thoughts.
******************
Remington sat in front of the film for about a half hour before
he realized that he hadn't taken any of it in. He wondered, instead,
what kind of business call Laura could have been returning on
a Sunday morning and immediately chided himself for being so
naive. Of course, the answer was none. The call could only have
been personal.
He could see the pile of message slips still next to the phone,
so he reached out and idly grabbed them. It was his name on the
agency door, he reasoned, so it wasn't really an invasion of
privacy to read them.
He flipped slowly through them, thanking the Lord for Mildred's
efficient method. First the initial to note who's message it
was - R for Remington, L for Laura, or A for agency business,
next came the name, the purpose for the
call and finally a contact number for each message.
A - Digital Star, re: computer upgrade, 555 8129; A - Stuart
Randolf - NEW CLIENT, re: security system, 555 7865; ah - there
it was - L - Norman Maxwell, re: personal, 555 0324.
The name sounded vaguely familiar but no bells were ringing yet.
Dammit! Why hadn't he insisted that the Anderson case file could
wait until after the weekend? Then they wouldn't have called
in at the office on their way home from the movie and she never
would have been able to pick up the messages in the first place.
Maybe then...what? She still would have gotten them on Monday
morning. And there was really no point in living on "if
only's" and "what if's".
Remington put the message slips back where he found them. He
wasn't going to deny having noticed that Laura had been distant
lately. In the past 5 or 6 months she had been increasingly guarded
and on edge. In fact, except for
the sex, their relationship had been a lot like it had in the
early days.
Except for the sex....which was why he hadn't allowed himself
to get too concerned. At night they were still connecting, powerfully,
explosively, passionately. And as far as he knew, Laura felt
the same.
He told himself not to jump to conclusions. He'd long since learned
not to push Laura, to allow her her independence and to wait
until she came to him. He just had to trust that eventually she
would do just that.
******************
As she ran, Laura let her subconscious guide her thoughts to
whatever was bothering her, and her mind wandered, as it so often
did, back to Ireland and all the other circumstances that had
surrounded their sham marriage.
Amid the threat of losing Remington, another man chasing after
her, and the revelations about Remington's past and Daniel's
death, Laura had come to know a lot of things.
She knew that she wanted no-one else, she knew that she loved
him. With that knowledge came the realization that, far from
protecting herself by holding herself back from him physically,
she was really only denying them both.
And that was why, when he'd gazed down at her and declared solemnly
that he wasn't going to waste any time showing people who were
close to him how he felt about them, she had taken his hand,
led him up the stairs and allowed him to show her.
And show her, and show her, and show her. In countless different
ways he'd shown her that he cared, but in two and a half years,
he had never once *told* her, at least, not in so many words.
Not in the three simple words that Laura had tried so hard to
convince herself she didn't need to hear.
At first it had been easy to live with. It had seemed logical
for Laura to move into his apartment as soon as they returned
from Ireland. After all, they were supposed to be pretending
to be married, and of course, her clothes had all still been
in a heap at the bottom of his closet, where
they'd been left right before their hasty departure for England.
They had settled back in in a haze of newly discovered pleasure
and passion and, in time, Laura had relaxed a little. There was
no way he was going to leave her unless he wanted to risk deportation.
But now, their two years were up. Legally, he was free from the
INS, free to leave her if he chose to. There was nothing binding
him to her anymore, a fact of which Laura was painfully aware.
Laura knew that for the past six months she'd been edgy, distant,
withdrawn, if ever so slightly. Their relationship was becoming
strained and she didn't like it one bit. But what else could
she do when she felt like each passing
day was only 24 more hours of borrowed time?
*********************
When Laura returned, the movie had finished, causing both she
and Remington to realize just how long she'd been out.
When he heard the lock turning, Remington poured a second glass
of iced tea and emerged from the kitchen just as Laura was headed
in.
She accepted the glass gratefully as he pulled her into a sweaty
embrace, "How was the run?" he asked.
"Great," she answered when she had finished gulping,
"I'm just going to grab a shower," she added, dropping
a quick kiss on his lips before heading to the bedroom.
"Want me to rub your feet after?" Remington offered.
Laura smiled and nodded her exhausted acquiescence, truce drawn
for a clash they'd never really even had.
Foot rubs were yet another skill Remington had honed to perfection
and as he made his way up her tired calves, Laura was reminded
of something Felicia had once said about a mastery of Tibetan
massage. She made up her mind to ask him about it, but before
long, her therapeutic massage had transformed into the erotic
kind and any notions of conversation were quickly forgotten.
After dinner, they worked together in companionable silence on
completing the Anderson file, each caught up in their own little
world.
*******************
Remington emerged from his office just after lunch on Monday,
intending to refill his coffee, and was in time to hear Mildred
saying, "One moment please and I'll see if she's in,"
she pressed the hold button.
"Laura's not in?" he asked in surprise.
"Oh, she's in there," Mildred told him.
"She doesn't want to be disturbed?" Remington guessed.
"Beats me," Mildred shrugged.
"Then put through her call," Remington suggested, his
voice betraying a hint of confusion.
"But he's asking for Miss Holt," Mildred protested.
"Do you have a point Mildred?" Remington asked, clearly
exasperated.
"Sure, Boss" she answered.
"Well, I do wish you'd get to it," he said, "Laura's
going to be ropable when she finds out you're holding back her
call."
"My point it this," Mildred sighed, spelling it out,
"This is the same guy from Friday. When I ask what his call
is in relation to, he won't say anything more than that it's
personal. And he's asking for Miss Holt, when for 2 and a half
years now she's been Mrs Steele."
Remington gazed at their faithful receptionist, who was undoubtably
the staunchest defender of his and Laura's relationship.
"Patch through the call, Mildred," he said, as he decided
what he would do.
Crossing to Laura's office door, he opened it and peered inside,
"Coffee, Laura?" he asked.
"Thank you," she accepted with a smile as she looked
up.
Mildred caught on, "Call for you on line one honey, Norman
Maxwell," she called through the open door.
"Thanks Mildred," Laura called back, picking up her
receiver as Remington backed out of her office.
"Laura Holt -" she answered, "Steele!" she
amended hastily.
Remington met Mildred's gaze as they both noticed her slip. Laura
hadn't faltered over that name in over two years. Neither could
help but wonder why she would start to now.
"Norman, how are you?" Laura greeted, as Remington
closed her office door behind him, shutting out her voice.
"Norman Maxwell, Mildred," he said in hushed tones,
"That name ring any bells with you?"
"Sure," Mildred answered, "He was involved with
that shonky company, remember, what was it called? Premium? Perpetual?..."
"Perennial!" they said together.
"Of course," Remington mused, "Laura's stock broker
friend."
"And an old flame, wasn't he?" Mildred added, arching
her eyebrows.
"Now, now, Mildred," Remington cautioned, hoping he
sounded convincing, "Let's not jump to any conclusions."
But he was well aware that this was easier said than done.
****************
It wasn't until they were on their way to work again the next
morning that Laura decided to raise the subject.
"I have a lunch appointment today," she announced,
"Do you think you and Mildred can handle the Anderson debriefing
without me?"
"Of course," Remington answered, "Anyone I know?"
"Remember my friend Norman Maxwell? The stock broker who
lost everything in that case about the Perennial Corporation?"
Laura explained.
"An ex-flame of yours as well, if I recall," Remington
said, "Not still carrying that torch for you is he?"
"Don't start with that," Laura warned, "Besides,
it's not like that. He's been out of town since the Perennial
incident and just moved back, wants to talk to me about business
today in LA. I owe him a favour, it's the least I
can do."
"Out of town, eh?" Remington mused, "So, does
he know that you...that I...that we...?" he faltered, gesturing
vaguely with one hand while the other remained on the wheel.
"I don't know if he knows that I...that you....that we..."
Laura teased, "And at any rate, just because you and I are
- involved" she chose her word carefully, "doesn't
mean Norman and I can't still be friends."
"Men and women can't be friends because the sex part always
gets in the way," Remington quoted dutifully, "When
Harry Met Sally, Meg Ryan, Billy Crystal, Columbia Pictures
and Castle Rock Entertainment, 1989 -"
"I was there remember?" Laura cut in dryly as he referenced
the film they'd seen together on Friday evening, "You don't
really buy into all that do you?"
"Do you have any men friends Laura?" he challenged
her, "Just friends?"
"There's Murphy," she suggested.
"No," he countered, "There's not. Murphy was in
love with you. Remember the Morie Singer case?"
"Well then, what about in the movie when Harry makes an
amendment to the earlier rule? That when the people are in relationships,
the pressure of possible involvement is lifted?"
"But eventually they decided that doesn't work either because
the person you're involved with doesn't understand why you have
to be friends with the person you're just friends with, like
it means there's something missing
from the relationship," he reminded her, "And even
though you say nothing is missing, the person you're involved
with thinks you're secretly attracted to the person you're just
friends with, which on some level you probably are, bringing
them back to the earlier rule, before the amendment, which was
that men and women can't be friends."
Laura looked over at him and shook her head in bewilderment,
"I don't believe I'm having this conversation," she
said, "It's just lunch, with an old friend, to discuss business."
She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, unsure whether
she should be flattered that he was jealous or annoyed that he
didn't trust her. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit
that she'd probably been more secretive than she needed to be,
hoping perhaps to provoke him, although to what, she wasn't quite
certain.
Though he'd started quoting the movie in jest, Remington realized
he didn't want her to go. With the way Laura had been acting
lately, he wondered if she truly wasn't happy anymore, if she
was seeking solace elsewhere.
Overnight, he'd remembered more about Norman Maxwell. He'd seemed
very interested in Laura and she very concerned about him. Remington
remembered Laura inviting Norman into her loft that evening he'd
had to diffuse the bomb rigged to her front door.
He'd never asked her about him, he wasn't about to pry into her
past. After all, it wouldn't seem right, coming from him, it
would have been downright hypocritical.
They marched into the office in stony silence, a fact not missed
by Mildred who looked up in alarm the minute she sensed their
disquiet, "Morning, kids," she greeted them cautiously.
"Morning Mildred," they answered in frosty unison,
"Can I see you in my office please?" Laura added.
"What's up, honey?" Mildred asked, hurrying into Laura's
office and pulling the door shut after her.
"I'm meeting a friend for lunch this afternoon," Laura
told her, "I just wanted to make sure you and Mr Steele
could take care of the Anderson follow up without me."
"Piece of cake," Mildred assured her, "Lunch date,
huh?" she mused, "How does Mr Steele feel about that?"
"Oh, not you too Mildred!" Laura exclaimed, "It's
just 2 old friends getting together for a meal and some business
talk. And besides, I don't know what he's so worried about, I
mean, it's not like we're really married."
Mildred's brow furrowed in confusion, "Sure you are, honey,"
she said, "That boat was past the three mile line, it's
legal as hell."
Laura's mouth opened and closed, emotion flickered across her
face in waves, from pure shock to bewildered confusion, as she
struggled to comprehend what Mildred had just told her.
"Wha-?" she began, "Mildred..." But before
she could probe for information, the phone began to ring, sending
Mildred back to her own desk to answer it.
Much to her chagrin, Laura was kept busy all morning and didn't
get an opportunity to ask Mildred what she'd meant. In fact,
she was so preoccupied, she was almost going to be late for lunch
until Remington reminded her of the time.
He walked with her to the elevator and held out her light jacket
for her to put on.
"I've got it," Laura said suddenly, as the carriage
arrived. She turned and flicked her hair out from under her collar,
"Us. What about us? We were friends a long time before we
were lovers."
"Don't be ridiculous Laura," Remington said as she
stepped into the lift and turned around, "We're not friends,
we've never been friends, we've been in love from the very beginning
and we'll be in love until the day we die." And
with that, the elevator doors swooshed closed in front of her.
While she wanted nothing more than to go back upstairs and demand
an explanation, she was already late for a lunch date she no
longer wanted to keep. And for the second time that day, Laura
was left reeling.
****************
Lunch with Norman was pleasant. He was a charming and witty companion,
which Laura remembered well from when they used to date. She
recalled that they hadn't broken up over any great dispute or
personality clash, but simply because Laura hadn't had the time,
trying as she had been, to build her
fledgling agency.
She was fleetingly reminded of another point the movie had raised.
Something about meeting someone you might really like but at
the wrong time. Norman was someone Laura had really liked, and
still really liked. Maybe in another
time.... but she realized that he'd always been a little to serious
for her. He didn't have the passion and spontaneity. Not like
someone else she knew.
Business talk had wound up just before coffee. Norman, Laura
discovered, had taken some time off after the Perennial disaster
and moved to Chicago to visit relatives and lie low. Gradually
though, he'd begun to get back into stocks and bonds and eventually
decided he couldn't stand being so far from the ocean. They had
spent the meal discussing the hip, up and coming companies and
stocks in LA and the state of the market today, so that Norman
could get a view to starting up business again back home.
Suddenly, Laura was snapped back to reality by Norman's hand
taking hold of her own from across the table.
"I don't suppose there's any chance you'd consent to having
dinner with me?" he asked, "Or is Laura Holt destined
to remain the one that got away?"
"It's sweet of you to ask Norman," Laura began, "But
-"
"I know," Norman said, "You're committed?"
Laura nodded, turning their hands over to reveal her wedding
ring, "Actually, it's Laura Holt- Steele," she told
him.
"I'd hoped I was hearing things when you answered the phone
like that," Norman admitted, "How long?"
"Two and a half years," Laura answered automatically,
and, she realized, truthfully, suddenly remembering all the things
she'd learned that day, "Lunch has been wonderful Norman,"
she began, "But I really should get back to the office."
She rose, reaching for her purse.
"Noses back to the old grindstone, eh?" he agreed,
"No, let me," he held up a hand to stop her from withdrawing
her cash.
"But Norman -" she complained.
"I insist," he told her, leaning over to bestow a kiss
on her cheek, "Thanks for the information, and congratulations."
"It was good seeing you again, Norman," Laura said
sincerely.
"You too, Laura Holt-Steele," he responded.
***************
On the drive back to the office, Laura was finally alone with
her thoughts. She was struggling to come to terms with the fact
that, all this time, their marriage had been perfectly legal.
Vying for her attention though, was the fact that Remington had
used the l-word. Sure, he'd used it before. Laura couldn't count
the number of times he'd wryly begun a sentence with "That's
what I love about you Laura..." and
proceeded to list one of her characteristics in that sarcastic
way he had.
This time, though, he'd used it with regard to their relationship,
and he'd used it without even the merest hint of jest.
He may not have used the l-work in between the two personal pronouns
"I" and "You" but even so, Laura's heart
was singing, and, try as she might, she couldn't help but be
optimistic. That is, until she remembered that they'd
been on shaky ground that day.
Laura strolled back into their Century Plaza suite, past Mildred's
desk and towards Remington's office. She tapped on the door and
went in.
"How did the Anderson meeting go?" she asked.
"Fine," he answered, "How was lunch?"
"You were right," Laura ventured, "I don't think
men and women can be friends. Norman asked me out. So go on,
you can say it."
"Say what?" Remington played dumb, "I told you
so? I'd never say that." Laura smiled at his teasing tone,
"Besides," he continued gently, "It was just a
movie, Laura."
Laura reached over the desk and switched in the intercom, "Mildred?"
"Yeah, hon?"
"What's our calendar like for the rest of the afternoon?"
she asked.
"It's clear," Mildred answered, the hint of a smile
in her voice.
"Let's go," Laura said quietly, holding out her hand
to Remington.
"Are you alright?" Remington asked in mock concern
as he rose and laid a hand against her forehead, "Leaving
early twice in two working days? Perhaps we should call a doctor."
She grabbed his hand and tugged him after her, "I think
the cure is complete bed rest, Mr Steele," she answered
suggestively.
******************
With the minimal mid-afternoon traffic, they arrived back at
the apartment in record time. Remington went about getting them
their evening drink, even though it was only 3:30.
All joviality aside, Laura was suddenly uncomfortably aware of
the important matter they had to discuss and didn't quite know
where to start.
As he handed her her wine and sat down on the couch, Laura looked
up and decided to jump right in, "Why didn't you ever tell
me that our marriage has always been legal?" she asked quietly.
He stood up again and paced towards the fireplace. Her question
was not unexpected. It had been inevitable that one day Laura
would find out the truth. He had hoped that he would be the one
to tell her but Remington had not fooled himself into believing
that someday he wouldn't have to answer this very question. He'd
given a lot of thought to this very subject over the years and
his response was ready. He turned back to her with a steady gaze.
"I don't know," he answered truthfully, "Lots
of reasons I suppose. But don't get me wrong, at first I didn't
know either. Mildred told me, in much the same fashion I imagine
she told you. It was never supposed to be legal, but we dallied
so long in getting started that I guess we went outside the three
mile line by the time Juan had completed the ceremony."
He shrugged slightly. "When I did find out, I didn't tell
you right away because I didn't want you to think I'd deceived
you, manipulated you, I always knew
how you hated that." As he walked back and forth, he put
his hands in his pockets and lowered his head. Speaking quietly
and earnestly he went on. "The last thing I wanted was for
you to think it was all just another ploy to get you into bed
with me. After that, I didn't want to be the one to
disappoint you. I know every little girl dreams of a grand wedding
day, but ours was more of a nightmare than anything else. Later
on, I thought that if you believed our marriage wasn't legal,
you'd see that I didn't need any certificate binding me to you."
He looked at her now, he needed to see her face, to know whether
or not she believed what he about to tell her. "You'd know
that I was sticking around because I want to, because there's
nowhere I'd rather be, Laura. I thought I could make you happy..."
Laura was silent, digesting all that he'd just told her, as he
reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small box.
"This was supposed to be a present for the anniversary of
the day we met, but I want you to have it now," Remington
said as he returned to the couch handing it to her as he sat
down again.
Laura opened it slowly, revealing a pendant in the fluid shape
of two lithe bodies pressed together in dance. The female was
made of yellow gold and encrusted with delicate diamonds, the
simple lines of the male were white gold and, at his head, was
a gem that sparkled brilliant blue.
Laura withdrew a printed card and read through eyes that glistened
- "May the stones that brought us together keep us as
one. Two pieces of a puzzle, together we are whole. I will love
you always."
"It's beautiful," Laura breathed, "Is it...?"
"Lavulite? Of course," he answered.
She traced a finger over the words on the card, "I never
knew," she murmured, "At least not for sure. You never
told me..."
"I know," Remington agreed, "And I was a damn
fool! I think I knew from day one, and to never tell you was
sheer lunacy. I almost did...once..."
Laura looked up at him curiously.
"During the counterfeit money case, when I was beaten senseless
by that kleptomaniac, I hallucinated that she was you and I told
her that I loved her. I would have told you too, but I sensed
that neither one of us was ready back then, not really,"
he explained, "But I'm telling you now," he took her
wine from her and placed it on the coffee table but retained
hold of her hands, "Laura, I love you. And they say that
if you love something set it free...I'm setting you free Laura."
His voice was thick with emotion. "I know you've been unhappy."
She had been stunned into relative silence by his beautiful gift
and his heartfelt admission, but now she was shocked into a response.
"What?" she sputtered, "No! I - I love you -"
"I know," he told her, cupping her cheek with his hand,
"But you haven't been yourself - jumpy, distant, irritable,
tired," he traced his fingertips over the smudges beneath
her eyes. "I don't want to cause you any more stress."
"No, wait!" Laura cried, "You don't understand.
Being with you has made me so happy, but when our two years had
come and gone, I couldn't help but wonder whether, now that your
immigration troubles were over, that happiness might come to
an end also." She wiped hurriedly at a stray tear. "I
should
have believed in what we had in the present but I was clouded
by the past. My insecurities couldn't let me forget that you'd
been forced to marry me, so I started pulling away, I tried to
prepare myself in case you'd decided you wanted to be free. I
didn't want to let it shatter me like it had twice before. It
was wrong of me not to trust you, I'm sorry..."
He laid a finger over her lips. "I love you Laura, I should
have told you that long ago, I'm at least partly to blame, but
I'm not going anywhere," he told her sincerely.
"Neither am I," Laura whispered as she leaned over
and kissed him.
They clung tightly to each other and abandoned themselves to
their kiss, each one feeling freer than they had in a long time.
Roaming hands made short work of the day's clothes, which ended
up scattered in a hasty path to the bedroom.
***************
"Oh, God," Laura sighed in contentment, as the last
ripples of pleasure seeped slowly through her. Her eyes remained
closed as she concentrated on the sensation of his lips against
her skin.
Something in her tone of voice was nagging at Remington in the
back of his mind but he ignored it and continued raining tiny
kisses all over her body.
Laura moaned again as his mouth began its tantalizing journey
back up the length of her before returning to settle against
her lips. Then it hit him. Meg Ryan!
"Laura?" he asked suddenly, lifting his head to look
down at her, "Do you remember Harry and Sally and the cafe
scene in the movie?"
"Uh-huh", Laura murmured, curious to see where he was
going with this.
"Have you ever...?" he made a vague rolling gesture
with one hand, reminiscent of Billy Crystal.
"What are you saying?" she asked innocently, making
similar teasing hand movements, the glimmer of a smile in her
eyes.
"Well," Remington hedged, "Have you ever been...less
than forthcoming...so to speak?"
Laura tried hard not to laugh. She quirked an eyebrow at him
and pushed her hips upwards in silent invitation.
"I mean, have I ever not satisfied you...? Have you ever
had to...um...you know?...Because, in the movie...most women
at one time or another have done it...and most men are sure it's
never happened to them..." he paraphrased.
"Are you asking me if I've ever faked it?" she inquired
sweetly.
Remington blinked at her abruptness and Laura took advantage
of the pause to flip them both over.
Laura grinned deviously as she lowered herself slowly until they
were intimately joined, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
THE END
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