Halloween Party - A Trilogy Of Naughty Bits

Trick or Treat

“Will?”

“Uh huh.”

“William?” Lizzy glanced back at the man standing several feet behind her. “William! Would you grab this, please?” She rolled her eyes when she felt William's hands around her waist. “The lights, Will!”

“Oh!” William said sheepishly as he reached up and took the last few feet of the strand of lights Lizzy was stringing around the terrace in preparation for the Halloween party. He casually walked along the length of the terrace deftly hooking the lights over the hooks previously hung on the wall.

“Hey! I've been on this ladder for twenty minutes trying to string up those lights! It took you, what, thirty seconds?”

“You did most of them.”

“While you watched; why was I the one assigned to this task?”

“You put on a good show,” William smiled unremorsefully. “Anything else I can watch you do?” Lizzy gave him a withering look and folded the ladder. She handed it to him.

“You can set up the basin for the apples.”

“The what?”

“We're going to have people bobbing for apples. Put the basin right here, okay?” Lizzy turned to go inside the spacious apartment.

“We're bobbing for apples? This isn't a kid's Halloween party, you know.”

“I know.”

“Nonetheless you've set up spin the bottle, apple races and now this.”

“If you saw my prizes you'd never doubt me. And it's not apples they'll be passing, it's little pumpkins.”

“What are your prizes?”

“Win a game tomorrow and find out,” Lizzy smiled archly. She went inside and William followed. He retrieved the large basin and carried it out to the spot Lizzy had designated. Lizzy came out onto the terrace carrying a large sack of apples. “Maybe I should wash these,” she said and went back inside. William watched her go and after a moment a slow smile came over his face.

When Lizzy reached the kitchen she noticed the bowl of candy corn that she'd set out earlier to nibble on as the couple worked. She placed the sack on the counter and scooped up a few, popping them into her mouth a one at a time. She reached for another handful of candy corn when she noticed something odd. She picked up the bowl and peered into it.

“William Darcy! Would you stop de-heading the candy corn?” she cried as she held up a piece and saw how the white tip had been neatly severed. All the rest of the candy in the bowl was identical. William appeared in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “I am going to throttle you!”

“Hey, I used a knife this time,” he said defensively.

“William! For the last time, the entire piece of candy corn is made out of the same stuff!”

“Hey! I refuse to believe that the whole candy corn is the same. The other colors are definitely different. Ugh! The thought of eating them is disgusting. Only the white part is good.”

“No more candy corn for you!”

“I don't want anymore. All the good parts are gone.”

“Out!” Lizzy said, dismissing William. She shook her read and rolled her eyes as he left. “I can't believe I agreed to marry that man before I found out that he was a nut job.”

“I heard that!” William called from down the hall. Lizzy smiled as she dumped the apples into the sink and turned on the water. When the sink was full, Lizzy returned to the sink and shut off the tap and frowned. She still heard water running. She glanced out the window, suspecting that perhaps William had decided to hose down the terrace, but saw no sign of him. She dried her hands and went looking for him. Following her ears she found him in the master bathroom.

“Will? What are you doing?” William looked up and smiled.

“Devising a game of my own,” he smiled.

“What kind of game?”

“You'll see in a few minutes.” Lizzy shrugged and returned to the kitchen. She removed the apples from the water and piled them in a couple of colanders to dry. She was drying her hands when she was suddenly grabbed around the waist and lifted off her feet.

“Will!” Lizzy yelped. William tore the towel away from her and tossed it on the floor.

“You may as well skip that,” he said as he carried her down the hall to the bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lizzy screamed as William dumped her on the bed, narrowly missing Squeaks. The cat yelped and made himself scarce as William sat on the bed and began removing Lizzy's sneakers. “William!”

“I need something to test my game with.”

“Excuse me? And what does that have to do with--.” William rose to his feet, pulled Lizzy up so that she was standing before him and in one swift motion pulled her sweat pants and underpants to her ankles. “Hey!” Lizzy cried when William lifted her off the ground to finish the task. Lizzy doubled over and clung to William's shoulder, so that when he stood up again she was in a convenient position to be carried into the bathroom. When he arrived there he placed her on the ground again. Lizzy grit her teeth and docilely allowed him to remove her top. “Now what?” she asked as she folded her arms. William returned a wide grin and scooped her up. He carefully and gently dropped her into the water. Lizzy was completely submerged for a moment and sat up glaring.

“If I'm going to have to play children's games tomorrow, I'm sure as hell going to have some adult fun tonight.”

“And this game is?”

“Lie back.” Lizzy's glare softened and a slow smile crept over her as the light dawned.

“If you think you're going to lift me with your teeth…”

“Why not? You've lifted me with your teeth on many an occasion,” William replied huskily as he removed his own sweats. He got down on his knees and bent over the tub.

“What's the object of this game, exactly?” Lizzy asked, positioning herself so that tantalizing bits of herself broke the surface of the water.

“Bobbing for Lizzy? It's an endurance game. The first one to surrender wins.”

“Surrender?”

“Yeah,” William said before leaning forward and tickling the tip of Lizzy's right breast with his tongue. “The way I figure it, before long one of us will crack and either I'll come in there or you'll come out here.”

“A win-win situation,” Lizzy smiled. William stretched over to kiss her lips. Lizzy tilted her head back to give him access to her throat. He worked his way down her body, laving her temples, cheeks, eyes, lips, throat, and collar bone with his tongue. He interspersed brief licks with kisses and tiny nips as he moved along, especially when Lizzy taunted him by deliberately submerging his intended target beneath the surface. Throughout all, he kept his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He had slowly and painstakingly reached Lizzy's navel when the phone rang. William swore.

“You'd better get that. It might be Richard or Sar,” Lizzy said. “They did promise to come and help with the decorations if we needed them.”

“Let it take a message,” he growled impatiently.

“If you don't answer it, they might just decide to pop over.” William swore again and went to answer the phone. He was gone for a couple of minutes and when he returned he was treated to the sight of Lizzy pleasuring herself, relieving a bit of the tension William had built up so carefully. William leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a minute before coughing loudly. Lizzy opened her eyes a bit guiltily and was confronted with the naked lust in William's eyes.

“I surrender,” he said simply. Lizzy looked a bit disappointed.

“You're throwing in the towel? So soon?” William picked up a towel and flung it at her to emphasize his admission of defeat.

“And I should mention,” William said as he took the towel back and held it up to enrobe his fiancée, “your strategy was brilliant.”

“What strategy?” Lizzy asked, genuinely surprised.

“Getting me so hot I caved at the sight of you.”

“You got me so hot I was about to leap out of the tub before the water began to boil.”

“Want to call it a draw?” William suggested as he carried Lizzy back into the bedroom.

“No, I rather liked being named the winner,” Lizzy gloated as William quickly rubbed the towel over her body. He dropped it and began licking the damp skin on Lizzy's back.

“Mmmm; haven't tasted this side of you tonight,” he murmured absently as he nuzzled her neck. “I preferred a draw,” he said conversationally, as he dropped the second towel and climbed onto the bed, eager to pursue his badly needed release. “I was hoping to get one of your prizes, you see.” He pulled Lizzy into his arms and kissed her ardently.

“I have a special prize all ready for you, Will,” Lizzy managed to say between kisses. She opened herself to William and lost herself in his arms. Their lovemaking had been brief and intense, an explosive, passionate exchange that left their senses reeling. They collapsed exhausted in each other's arms a short while later.

“Now,” Lizzy smiled when her senses had recovered sufficiently, “didn't that beat edible panties or glow in the dark condoms for a prize?”




Doll Face

Richard slid onto the bed with a bowl of popcorn and flipped on the television. He watched the news for a few minutes before he began to wonder what was keeping his wife.

“William said he didn't need us over there tonight,” he called. After a couple of minutes he called to his wife again. “Mish? You staying in there all night?”

“That was not my intent, habib,” Sarmistha replied. “Give me a few minutes.”

“You'd better get a move on or there won't be any popcorn left by the time you come out.” Richard smiled at Sarmistha's muffled reply to the effect that he always ate most of it anyway and sat back to flip through the channels.

“Stop that!” Sarmistha called.

“Why should you mind my channel surfing when you aren't even in the same room?”

“It's annoying, my love.” Richard muted the sound and continued to surf. “And I know what you're doing.”

“Gotta patch that hole in the wall,” Richard said teasingly. “Are you coming out sometime before our first anniversary? I was kind of hoping we'd spend--.” Richard stopped abruptly. His mouth fell open and the hand that held the remote went slack as Sarmistha stepped out of the bathroom.

“What do you think?” she asked. Richard opened his mouth and closed it. Then he frowned and opened his mouth and closed it again.

“I don't know what to think. Please tell me you didn't dye your hair…”

“It's a wig, silly! This is what I'm going to wear to William and Lizzy's Halloween party.”

“Dressed as…” Richard squinted suspiciously. Sarmistha pouted.

“Can't you guess?” Richard didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid to hazard a guess. He was too stunned at the notion of seeing his olive-skinned, dark-eyed, raven-haired, slim wife standing before him with blond hair, blue eyes and more cleavage than he thought she could ever muster.

“I give up,” he said with a wry smile.

“No imagination.”

“You know, you sound just like my wife.”

“I am your wife, Richard!” Sarmistha rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her hips, further accentuating her tiny waist. “Well?”

“Well,” Richard swallowed hard. He picked up the bowl of popcorn in his lap and set it on the nightstand. “You know, you kind of look like a Barbie doll with that, that--and those shoes.”

“Right first time!” Sarmistha said gleefully as she reached out to hug her still slightly stunned husband.

“Well, it was either that or a Playboy bunny in a striped suit. Where on earth did you find that bathing suit?”

“I had it made. It's got a built in corset and padding to give me this figure.”

“Oh.”

“Disappointed, are you?” Sarmistha teased. Richard clamped his mouth shut lest he say the wrong thing. “You don't think this is too skimpy…”

“I think it's perfectly skimpy. I mean no. It's…it's--.” Sarmistha closed his mouth and kissed it.

“Poor baby, I've frightened you,” she said as she ran a hand through Richard's hair. He, in turn, picked up a strand of her hair and looked at it. “Do you like me as a blond?”

“No,” he said without hesitation.

“Not even just a little?” Richard shook his head as he reached out to take hold of Sarmistha's nipped-in waist.

“Can you breathe in that thing?”

“Sure, I can breathe just fine. Exactly how fat do you think I am?” Richard hastily shook his head once more. “So, how do you like my outfit?”

“It's…unique.” Sarmistha pouted.

“You don't like it.”

“I'm still trying to recognize the woman I fell in love with under the corseting, and padding and wigs and contacts--. You look so fake!”

“Just like a Barbie doll, in other words.”

“Yeah.”

“Or a typical young blond wannabe starlet.” Richard smiled.

“Whatever possessed you?” he asked as he allowed his hands to caress Sarmistha's curves, real and artificial.

“Barbie is every man's fantasy: tall, blond, big breasted, with a slim waist and great legs.”

“She wasn't my fantasy. The only time I ever saw one, I had stolen it from my cousin and buried it up to its neck in quicksand so my GI Joes could rescue her.”

“And what did your GI Joes do with her once they got her out of the quicksand?”

“They never did. My grandmother spoiled the fun by making me give her back before I got that far.” Sarmistha sat on Richard's lap and wrapped her arms around him.

“But you know as well as I do that had they actually rescued her the boys would have wanted to party with her a little. The very least she could do was show them a little gratitude…”

“My Joes were officers and gentlemen.”

“They were men. They wanted her. They would have taken her…had they been anatomically correct,” Sarmistha concluded with a giggle. Richard raised an eyebrow.

“Did you have a Barbie doll as a child?”

“I had six.”

“And your Barbies went around showing their gratitude to GI Joes who came to their assistance?”

“I didn't have any GI Joes, just Kens.”

“Ken is a wuss.”

“All my Barbies thought so,” Sarmistha said as she began to nibble at Richard's throat. “They longed for real men.”

“Like GI Joe?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Is this your way of saying that you want me to be GI Joe tomorrow?”

“I want you to be GI Joe tonight,” Sarmistha whispered in his ear suggestively, as she slipped her hand under his tee shirt and began to caress his chest. “I want you to show you how grateful I am to you for coming to my aid. I might have died if you hadn't come to save me. I want you let you know how much I appreciate you.”

“Just doing my duty, ma'am.” Richard was more than willing to play along with Sarmistha's game.

“You're so big and strong. You pulled me out of that quicksand as though I was a little doll.”

“From where I'm sitting, miss, you're quite a doll.” Sarmistha managed a slight blush before she allowed Richard's kiss. It quickly escalated into serious necking as the pair's hands wandered all over each other. Sarmistha eventually broke the kiss. She stood to pull off Richard's shirt and then walked over to the dresser and returned with a box. She opened it and removed a set of dog tags, which she put over Richard's head. He looked down at the tags while she knelt to undo his pants and slip them off of him.

“You had these made, too.” Richard said as Sarmistha began to kiss and nibble his chest.

“Yes. They're silver. I didn't know where to get fake ones, so I bought real tags and put your name on them. That way I can claim you later if you should get lost,” Sarmistha said with a wink.

“Just try and lose me,” Richard said breathlessly as he pulled Sarmistha to her feet. “You know,” he said as he fumbled with the zipper on the back of her suit, “the illusion will disappear the moment I open this.”

“Actually, I'll go from being the original 1959 Barbie to contemporary 2002 Barbie; a little less buxom a little more realistically proportioned, not to mention ethnic.”

“I like your real curves better. These fit in my hand,” Richard said, demonstrating as he did so.

“I like your real body better, too. GI Joe was woefully under-equipped to satisfy my needs,” Sarmistha replied as she stretched out on the bed to receive her husband. “And I won't even begin to talk about his flocked hair.”

“Speaking of hair,” Richard said. He paused in his movement to join his wife on the bed and extended his hand. “And the contacts.” Sarmistha looked dsiappointed.

“Don't you want to play?”

“I don't want to cheat on my wife with some blond floozy.”

“Floozie, am I? A moment earlier you were all over this floozy!”

“Well, I've been in the field a long time, ma'am. It's only natural for a man to have needs. It's an itch that's got to be scratched. But when it comes down to it, I'm a one-woman man.” Sarmistha pulled off the wig and shook out her hair.

“You are a real American hero.” Richard laughed as Sarmistha slid off the bed and went into the bathroom to remove her contacts. She returned a moment later and slid back into bed beside her husband. “Do I look like myself now?”

“Yes, thank goodness! For a moment I found myself disturbingly attracted to a blond bimbo,” Richard said as he pulled Sarmistha into his arms.

“Anything else you'd like to confess?” she purred into his ear.

“Well, you know what I said about stealing my cousin's Barbie when I was a kid and not having fantasies about her?”

“Yes?”

“My cousin actually had two. She never did see the other one again.”

“Richard!

“Hey, I'm more interested in my current exploits than my past transgressions.”

“So am I,” Sarmistha said as she began to trail kisses across his chest once more. The pair didn't speak again for some time, lost in the taste, scent and sensation of each other. But as they lay together later that night, a question came to mind.

“Barbie and GI Joe, eh? Did you find me a set of BDU's to wear tomorrow?”

“Oh, you aren't going to the party as GI Joe. I borrowed some things from Uncle Roshan so you could go tomorrow as Preetish, the god of love.”

“Preetish? I don't know anything about him.”

“Richard, you know everything you need to about being a love god, believe me.”

“Still, it might not hurt to practice,” he said hopefully. Sarmistha smiled languidly.

“Practice is good,” Sarmistha said as Richard reached out to turn off the lamp.


The End

Caped Crusaders

“What on earth are you doing?” Richard asked from the entrance to the master bedroom. Olivia had slipped out of the study and left Richard reading a magazine on model trains and gone upstairs for what she promised was “a minute” to check on the boys. A half hour later, Richard had gone in search of her. He found her standing on the bench at the foot of the bed wrapped up in a--. “Is that a sheet?”

“Yes,” Olivia said sheepishly as she accepted Richard's assistance in getting down. “I was just trying to figure out something.”

“How many yards it takes to make a shroud?”

“Very funny. Actually, I was trying to figure out what kind of costumes we should wear to Lizzy and William's Halloween party.”

“And you think we should go dressed as bed linen?” Olivia gave her husband a withering glance.

“I was trying to make a toga.”

“No.”

“Why not? You've got great legs for a toga.”

“And your legs are too great for a toga. Women's togas hide all the good stuff.”

“You want me to show my legs?”

“Yeah; how about a hot little maid's outfit?” Richard said as he wrapped his arms around Olivia and nuzzled his favorite spot behind her ear.

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe a snug little cat suit?” Olivia pulled away just enough to look her husband in the eye.

“You want me--the mother of your children--running around looking like a tart?”

“The boys won't be there.”

“That's hardly the point, Fizz.”

“You're no fun,” Richard pouted.

“I'm plenty of fun; I just don't want to be plenty of fun for every man in William and Lizzy's house on Halloween.”

“Good point. Let's stay home.” Olivia shot him a look. “I wonder what Lizzy's going to be? It's got to be pretty hard to find a costume for a pregnant woman.”

“What, you've never seen a knocked up witch? And so help me, you'd better consider your next words very carefully,” Olivia warned with a smile. Richard smiled as well. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Olivia onto his lap.

“Okay, okay, let's figure this out. We both need costumes. They can't be anything from my vast store of fantasies--.”

“You fantasize about me in a maid's outfit? And should I start worrying about leaving you home alone with Ms. Pierce?” Richard made a bitter face and shook his head.

“Not anymore; that one just bit the dust. In fact, I may never want to see you in a little black dress, again. Ms. Pierce! Ick!” Richard shuddered dramatically as Olivia just stared at him. “What; don't you have any fantasies about me?”

“Do I need fantasies when reality is so great?” Olivia challenged. Richard kissed her.

“Excellent point,” he conceded. “Still…”

“All right, I do have one or two,” Olivia admitted. “But it's nothing we could wear to Lizzy and Will's.”

“Who the heck's worried about that?”

“We are--well, I am.”

“You were; you've got more important things to do now,” Richard said as he lifted the swath of sheeting draped over Olivia's shoulder and to a peek beneath. To his delight he saw nothing but bare skin and burrowed a hand under the cloth. Olivia looked down and then into her husband's eyes.

“Richard, we have to do this.”

“Agreed.” He removed his hand and pulled off his sweater. He tossed it across the room and then laid back on the bed, pulling Olivia down with him.

“Richard!”

“What?” he asked absently as he rolled over so that Olivia was on her back. He tried to unwrap the sheet but she resisted. “Livy,” he growled in frustration.

“Not until we sort out the costumes.”

“Tomorrow,” Richard insisted as he nibbled at her shoulder.

“Now! We have to make arrangements. Halloween is only a week away.”

“All right,” Richard sighed. “But let's get into bed first. It'll save time later.” He sat up and began to unbuckle the belt on his pants.

“You're obviously confusing me with your fantasy wife. This one knows better than to trust you.” Richard laughed at her remark and stepping out of his pants, crawled onto the bed. Olivia quickly scooted away, holding her sheet securely around her slim frame. “Costumes first,” she insisted. Richard sighed and collapsed onto the bed face down.

“Okay,” he said into the mattress. Olivia smiled and reached out a hand to tousle his hair. “So, what would you like to see me dressed in?” Richard asked.

“Hmm…” He looked up, a hint of worry in his eye.

“What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking tights,” Olivia replied.

“No.”

“You wanted to see my legs; I want to see yours. How about a superhero costume?” Richard groaned. “I see; not so eager when it's your legs on display, are you? I'd like to see you as the Flash--.”

“Is that some sort of commentary?” Richard asked with a suspicious squint in his eye.

“No; it's just that his personality matches yours so well. He's a blond, a wise ass and a womanizer.”

“Hey! I've reformed and am very happily married, thank you!”

“Thank you, but he's still a better match for you than, say Batman.”

“Batman has a cape to hide his butt,” Richard muttered. “The Flash has to move at Mach speed to hide his.” Olivia reached down to caress Richard's bare posterior.

“Why on earth would you want to hide this beautiful thing?” she purred.

“You know, you're treading on very dangerous ground right now,” Richard warned. “I can't think with you doing that.”

“Oops. Sorry!”

“Liar.” Olivia laughed and withdrew her hand. She slid over on the bed and straddled Richard's back. “Oh, that's infinitely better. Now I can't remember my name,” Richard said sarcastically.

“Good, then I'll do the thinking for you,” Olivia said in his ear, as she stretched out along his body. “Your name is Richard, you're my beloved, docile, obedient husband.”

“Beloved, obedient and docile?” Richard asked doubtfully.

“Yes. And we were just lying here discussing Halloween costumes.” She extended her arms to caress Richard's biceps and forearms.

“We were? What were we saying?”

“We were just agreeing that you should dress as a superhero…one with a fancy cape.” Richard smiled.

“And what are you wearing?”

“You were just about to tell me your idea,” Olivia purred as she nuzzled the back of Richard's neck. His smile broadened.

“Catwoman.” Olivia, who was on the verge of nibbling her husband's shoulder, raised her head.

“No cape? What about my butt?”

“Tail.” Olivia bit him hard. “Ow!”

“I want a cape.”

“You've got a sheet.”

“True, I have a sheet now. Maybe we can negotiate a trade,” Olivia purred suggestively, as she pulled away a bit of the sheet and rubbed her breasts against Richard's back. He abruptly flipped her off and quickly scrambled so that he was on top of her.

“I negotiate better face to face,” Richard leered. “Now, are you sure you don't want to be Catwoman?”

“If I do, I get to keep the sheet,” Olivia warned. Richard frowned. “Or…”

“Yes?”

“You could be the Flash…”

“Wasn't Catwoman Batman's girl?” It was Olivia's turn to frown.

“What is it with you and Catwoman?”

“Can I help it if I think you'd look hot in skintight Spandex?”

“If I don't get a cape, you don't get this sheet.” Richard smiled and took hold of the sheet. He gave it one firm yank; Olivia cried out as she was unceremoniously stripped and dumped on the floor. Richard laughed and crawled to the end of the bed to peer at his wife. “If I had a tail, it'd be broken now,” Olivia complained. Richard reached out a hand to help her up but she ignored it.

“Come on, you'll catch a cold lying on the floor naked like that.”

“I wouldn't be lying on the floor naked if it hadn't been for you.”

“Pretty fast, aren't I?” Richard asked smugly.

“Much too fast for Batman,” Olivia replied archly.

“No Flash.”

“No Catwoman.” For a moment, they engaged in a stare out.

“Batman and Batgirl?” Richard suggested as a compromise. Olivia smiled. He extended his hand once more and this time she took it.

“Batwoman.”

“I stand corrected. Want to come into the bat lair and discuss this, Batwoman?”

“Will the Flash be there?”

“Look, if it's speed you want--.”

“On second thought, maybe slow is better for some things,” Olivia said as she resumed her previous position.

“Not too slow,” Richard suggested. Olivia smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. “Bats, eh? They do a lot of screwing around in the dark. Seems right for us, somehow…”

Olivia smiled and turned off the lamp.

The End



Treasure Chest

“Good evening, Mrs. Reynolds,” William said as he handed the housekeeper his briefcase in the vestibule of his townhouse. “Is my wife upstairs?” He didn't wait for an answer, bounding up the stairs before she could reply in the negative. William emerged from the master bedroom. “Did she call?” He been worried about Lizzy all afternoon since she called and told him she'd be leaving the office early. He'd called her twice since then and each time had failed to reach her. She was just entering the final month of her pregnancy and had continued to work in spite of his pleas to begin her maternity leave early.

“She called a half hour ago and asked that you wait on her for dinner,” Mrs. Reynolds replied calmly. William heaved a sigh of relief and went into the library. He was reading his mail when he heard a noise and looked up. Mrs. Reynolds was at the door in her coat.

“Where are you off to?” William asked as he removed his glasses.

“A friend of mine is in the hospital. Lizzy said I could run out and visit her when dinner was done.”

“Oh, you go on ahead. We'll be fine here.” He resumed reading and Mrs. Reynolds headed for the front door with a small smile on her lips. As she passed the stairs she turned and gave Lizzy the high sign. Lizzy tiptoed down the stairs and over to the library. She listened at the door and heard William on the phone.

“Well, maybe we should just call the whole thing off, Fitz. Lizzy's too close to term--. Of course she says she's fine, Fitz, but--.” Lizzy smiled and went back the way she came. She tiptoed back up to her room, nudging each of the tiny parcels that Mrs. Reynolds had placed every six feet or so all the way up to the bedroom, into place. When she reached the bedroom she walked over to the nightstand, picked up William's family bible and dropped it on the floor. As expected, William jumped to his feet. He was out of his office at a shot and nearly stumbled over the first box.

“What the--?” William stooped to pick up the box. He peered at the unmarked red box, but he quickly refocused his priorities and headed for the stairs. By the time he reached them, however, he'd picked up three boxes and gathered another three on his way up. He reached the bedroom, which was located above the library, and entered it cautiously. There was another box on the bed, but this one was decidedly larger than the rest and shaped like a treasure chest. “What the--?” William repeated. He glanced around, noticed his bible on the floor and picked it up. “Ghosts?” He put the bible back in its usual spot and made a quick search of the suite. There was no sign of an intruder so he sat on the bed and studied the collection of boxes.

He picked up one of the small ones at random and opened it. Inside he found a chocolate heart and a note that simply read, “I love you with all my heart.” William studied it for a moment, then smiled impishly and plucked the heart from the box and ate it. He opened another box and found another heart and a note that read “A token of my esteem.” William felt a pang of guilt at having eaten the first heart. He opened the other small boxes, each of which contained a unique message. William smiled and laid them out on the bed before him. He played with the messages, rearranging them as he absently nibbled on a few pieces of chocolate. Any way he read them the message came through loud and clear: Lizzy Bennet Darcy loved him heart and soul. William smiled and reached for the large box.

“Ah, ah, ah!” William turned around as Lizzy entered the room and took the box from him.

“But--.” He briefly wondered where she had come from but was distracted from his thoughts by his desire to see his final prize.

“You haven't had your dinner yet and look how much chocolate you've eaten,” Lizzy clucked at him reproachfully. “Go and wash your hands and face and we'll have dinner before you open this.”

“I feel like Peter Rabbit being scolded by his mother,” William grumbled good-naturedly. He went off to the bathroom and was slightly embarrassed by the chocolate smudge he saw on his cheek when he looked at himself in the mirror. When he emerged from the bathroom, Lizzy had disappeared so he went down to the dining room. Lizzy awaited him and the pair sat down to dinner.

“Eat all your vegetables or no more chocolate for you,” Lizzy scolded him teasingly. William readily complied.

“I spoke to Fitz just before you came in. I think we should cancel the party.”

“Why?” Lizzy said, feigning surprise. “I'm perfectly fine, if that's what you're thinking.”

“That's exactly what I'm thinking,” William said sternly. “You don't need any extra excitement these last few weeks.”

“Will, having a party will not put me into labor.”

“That's what Fitz said. But--.”

“No buts. We're having the party! I can't wait to see everyone's reaction to my costume,” Lizzy smiled. William rolled his eyes. “Please, William,” she pleaded. “This is important to me. I've really been looking forward to this party and it'll probably be my last for some time.”

“I was reacting to your choice of costume,” William admitted. “How did you talk me into letting you dress up as Henry the Eighth?”

“I didn't. I believe I simply announced my decision…as any good king would,” Lizzy smiled. William smiled and leaned over to kiss his Lizzy. She was his favorite king, just as she was his favorite in every other category he could think of. “I still don't see why you wouldn't dress up as Anne Boleyn.”

“With or without my head, I'm a little tall for that role,” William quipped.

“But you'll make a very dashing nobleman. Too bad Henry wasn't known for dallying with the odd courtier,” Lizzy said suggestively.

“Define odd,” William frowned. “And weren't Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour--heck, all of his wives courtiers of some sort?”

“I meant the tall, dark and handsome ones,” Lizzy said with a decidedly wicked gleam in her eye. William gave her a slightly disparaging look, but not for very long.

“Neither of our costumes are very Halloween, you know.”

“It doesn't matter,” Lizzy declared. “We wanted our costumes to complement each other and Henry was the only costume I could wear comfortably, unless I went as a circus tent.”

“You would have made one very sexy tent,” William smiled. “As a king, however…”

“Beard's a turn-off, is it?” Lizzy smiled impishly. “It's fitting revenge for the way you returned from that wilderness trip to Colorado. You and Richard looked like complete strangers when you came through the door.”

“I shaved!”

“You kissed me first,” Lizzy replied archly, “and nearly wore my lips raw in the process.”

“May I have my chocolate now?” William interrupted, holding up his empty plate. Lizzy smiled indulgently and nodded. William cleared the table and met Lizzy a few minutes later up in the bedroom. She had changed into her nightgown and was brushing her hair when he entered. She laid the brush aside and handed him the box reverently. When William started to shake it, Lizzy cringed.

“It's somewhat fragile, William!” she cried. William sat down and untied the gold ribbon that held it closed. But Lizzy put her hand over his to stop him. “I should explain. I know you're a little squeamish about my dressing up as a man. Think of this as a little reassurance that underneath that beard and padding I'm all woman…and all yours.” William frowned and opened the box. He lifted the lid and gasped.

“Is this--?” Lizzy untied the drawstring at the neck of her gown and revealed her breasts. “How on earth? And please don't tell me you went to a chocolatier…” Lizzy laughed as she retied her gown.

“No, no! Not for that! It was a do-it-yourself project, sort of. Livy helped me. Actually, I stole the idea from her. She'd made one of those for Richard last Valentine's Day.”

“Lucky guy,” William smiled.

“You're luckier, according to Richard. When he found out that Livy was going to make a mold of my breasts for you he complained that you were going to get a lot more chocolate than he did. Livy said he was sleeping in the guest room for that crack.” William smiled, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“So…how?”

“Oh, it's simple, really. You lie down, lay some plastic wrap over yourself and paint on layers of chocolate till it's as thick as you want it to be. The hard part is lying still all that time. Livy accused me of heaving my chest and causing fissures and threatened to send my sculpture to a geology lab as a simulation of a mountain range subjected to tectonic shift.” William laughed as he moved to sit beside Lizzy on the edge of the bed.

“So she did this?” Lizzy nodded and reached into the box for a few of the jelly beans which provided a bed for the chocolate sculpture.

“And I did hers. Richard's right. She had to use a lot more chocolate than I did.”

“Have you got any left over? I may want to return the favor.” Lizzy giggled.

“I don't need any reminder of your masculinity, Will,” she said as she patted his knee. “I do like chocolate in large quantities, however.” Lizzy looked up at William, who was still staring at the pair of chocolate breasts in the box. “So, are you going to eat them?”

“Did Richard eat his?”

“Of course, as soon as he had obtained a promise of more on demand.”

“Smart guy. But I think I'll hold onto this pair. Wait a minute! What am I saying?” He rose and went into the dressing room and put the box into the small refrigerator there. Then he undressed and got ready for bed. When he returned Lizzy was lying in bed reading. William climbed into bed and reached for his wife. He wrapped his arms around Lizzy and cupped her breasts in his hands. “I'll hold onto these.

The End



Later That Evening

Olivia turned off the tap and reached for the towel to dry her hands as Richard reached for the last glass and began to dry it. Olivia grabbed one end of the towel and dried her hands with a sigh.

“I miss the boys. It feels strange to be here all alone,” she said.

“I kind of like it. Don't get me wrong, I miss the little guys, too, but it's kind of nice having a little grown-up time together. In fact, maybe we should consider letting Mina take the boys up to Connecticut every Thursday from now on. That way we could avoid the three-ring circus of loading two cars and spending half an hour in getaway traffic every Friday. You and I could head north straight from the office. And the best part,” he said as he pulled Olivia into his arms, “is that we'd get a date night every week.”

“A date night sounds good,” Olivia smiled. She reached up to wrap her arms around Richard's neck. “So how should we spend it?”

“Well, we've already had dinner; how about a movie?” Olivia smiled.

“We can watch my new DVD. Why don't you grab a couple of cold drinks from the fridge and I'll cue it up?” Richard refused to relinquish Olivia until she gave him a kiss and then she slipped out of the kitchen while he headed for the refrigerator. A few minutes later, Olivia called him from the study, wondering what was keeping him. Richard came into the room with a large bowl in one hand and two beer bottles in the other.

“Honey, what's this for?” He sat on the edge of the sofa and set down the beers. Olivia glanced his way.

“You are not going to eat that,” she said firmly as she reached over to take the bowl from him. Richard was quicker, however, and he held the bowl just out of her reach.

“You said that if I did 200 sit-ups a day I could have dessert. I'm up to 1,000 this week already and it's not even Friday yet.”

“That doesn't mean you can have a half pound of chocolate ganache for dessert, Fizz.”

“How much of it can I have?” Olivia gave him a well-rehearsed look and Richard smiled impishly. “And what have we got to go under it?”

“Lizzy,” Olivia said as she made a sudden lurch forward for the bowl. The moment it was safely in her custody, she rose and headed for the kitchen with Richard at her heels.

“Come again?”

“I made this ganache for Lizzy,” Olivia explained as she opened the refrigerator and found a container of vanilla ice cream.

“Oh. Is this for her Halloween party?” Richard asked, slightly deflated.

“Nope. This was for a private party,” Olivia replied with a slight smile.

“Oh, the chocolate mountains,” Richard smiled. “Say, you promised to make me another set.”

“So I did,” Olivia said as she held the scoop over the container of ice cream. “But if you want that, you can't have this chocolate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'd use it to make them!”

“It won't take that much,” Richard said before he could stop himself. He winced as Olivia's eyes went wide.

“Thanks a lot.”

“I meant--Livy!” Olivia pushed the bowl of ice cream across the counter toward him and left the room. Richard followed her and caught her in the hall. “I'm sorry, Angel. You know I love your little--.”

“Speed bumps?”

“I happen to be crazy about those speed bumps,” he replied endearingly. “You know how much I love riding over them. I've been known to spend a great deal of time circling the block just to encounter them again and again,” Richard said as he pressed Olivia to the wall and slid his hands under her top for emphasis. “Of course, as speed bumps go, they aren't terribly effective,” he continued, as he pushed the sweater up further and slipped it off entirely. “The whole idea of speed bumps is to slow a guy down. Yours make me want to rev my engine and speed up every time.”

“Oh, brother!” Olivia said as she rolled her eyes, but she didn't resist when Richard pressed his body to hers and began to nibble her neck. Richard ran his hands over Olivia's bra and looked down.

“Oh look! You've decorated your speed bumps for Halloween with little masks. I bet they can't breathe very well, since you thoughtlessly declined to give them air holes. I'd better let them out of those dangerous things,” he said as he deftly removed the offending garment.

“Richard, you are such a lunatic,” Olivia laughed as Richard tossed the bra over his shoulder and snuggled up against her again, his hands comfortably settled over her breasts.

“Lunatic, eh?” he said in her ear as he scattered kisses along its rim. “I've got you half naked in thirty seconds. How crazy is that?” Olivia laughed again, albeit breathlessly.

“You know, your ice cream is melting,” she said casually several minutes and several deep kisses later. Richard's lips paused mid-nibble. “No, no, no, no, no! You are so NOT dripping ice cream over me again.” Richard raised his head to protest.

“Sundaes!” Olivia laughed as she tried to push him away. “Chocolate! Ice cream,” he added, licking his lips. “Cherries!”

“We don't have any--.” Olivia blushed slightly when Richard waggled his eyebrows and glanced at her nipples.

“Hey! I've got a better idea!”

“I'm afraid to ask,” Olivia said as Richard took her by the hand and led her back into the kitchen.

“What was that you told me about chocolate having a temper?”

“I told you about the importance of tempering chocolate,” she corrected as Richard picked up the bowl of ganache en route to the microwave.

“What's the correct setting?”

“Oh, no! No way!”

“Come on! How tough can it be? You said they were easy to make.”

“They are. But I always find that `easy' and `Richard Fitzwilliam' are far too often mutually exclusive.”

“Please? I want to make chocolate speed bumps,” Richard pouted.

“You'll do anything to get into that chocolate, won't you?” Olivia asked.

“If you think that eating chocolate is my primary interest you don't really know the man you've been married to these last four years,” Richard said seriously. “Melt the chocolate.” He gave Olivia a beseeching look and she held out only a few seconds before Richard's persuasive charms convinced her.

“All right. Eat your ice cream while I gather the supplies and heat up the chocolate a little.” She disappeared into the pantry and returned with an armload of supplies. She shook her head as she caught Richard dipping his finger into the bowl and confiscated it.

“Hey!”

“I've got to heat it up, Fizz.” She placed the bowl in the microwave and started it up. Richard finished his ice cream as he examined the supplies.

“What's this for?” he asked, holding up a box of plastic wrap.

“That's the release layer. It'll keep the chocolate from sticking to me.” Richard snorted and tossed the box over his shoulder.

“We don't need no stinking release layer,” he said with a wicked grin. Olivia shook her head and retrieved the box. “And no brushes, either,” he said as examined the pastry brush.

“If you throw one more thing--.” She cut off her remark when the microwave signaled that the melting cycle was complete and she turned her attention to the chocolate. Richard was behind her almost instantly, cupping her bottom with one hand while he tested the temperature of the bowl with the other.

“How long will we have to wait for it to cool? I wouldn't want to risk damaging anything important,” he said.

“We don't have to wait at all. One of the cool things about chocolate is that its melting point is 98 degrees. That's why it melts in your mouth,” Olivia said as Richard touched his finger to the chocolate and dabbed it on her lips. When he attempted to go after it, Olivia forestalled him with a hand to his chest and licked it off herself. “You're supposed to test the temperature on your own lips, sweetie.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Richard frowned. Olivia rolled her eyes and handed him the bowl.

“Let's go.”

“Where?” he asked, as Olivia picked up the pastry brush, towels, sponge and plastic wrap.

“Back to the study. I have to lie flat or this won't work. The chocolate will run and--.” Richard pulled the items out of Olivia's hands and put them aside. “Fizz!” He picked her up by the waist and sat her on the counter.

“If it drips, I'll take care of it,” he said simply. Olivia shook her head.

“It won't work. The movements of my chest will make the chocolate crack. You have to very carefully paint on a thin layer and then build it up--Richard!” Olivia gasped as he scooped up a handful of chocolate and smeared it on her left breast.

“My project, my way,” he replied dismissively. He dipped his other hand into the chocolate and coated her right breast.

“Fizz!” Olivia reached over and grabbed one of the towels and placed in across her lap.

“Be still! Artist at work,” he said cheekily.

“Uh, artist? You're not so much coating as massaging,” Olivia pointed out.

“Shh...enjoy,” he said as he lightly kissed her lips. Olivia closed her eyes and shivered slightly when she felt the renewed warmth as he added more chocolate to the first layer. She leaned back and propped herself against the upper kitchen cabinet and giggled when Richard wrote something on her right breast with an index finger. Then he paused and Olivia opened her eyes. Richard had stepped back and Olivia looked down.

“You need to let this harden for a few minutes...” Her words trailed off as she watched Richard slowly lick his fingers one by one. She reached out for his other hand and did the same. Richard smiled and dipped his finger into the chocolate and brought it to her mouth to taste. Olivia took hold of his wrist and made a show of swallowing his finger down to the knuckle and smiled as she slowly pulled it out. Richard groaned then scooped up more chocolate and dabbed a bit on each of her nipples. He bent his head to lick it off and it was Olivia's turn to cry out. “You're ruining your creation,” she managed to say.

“On the contrary,” Richard said between long slow licks, “I'm just smoothing it out a bit.” He pulled away and picked up another bit of chocolate and carefully spread it on. He alternately applied and nibbled, licked and suckled at her breasts, but after twenty minutes or so, Richard had managed to liberally coat each breast, with a small bridge in between forming a bra of chocolate. He smiled at Olivia smugly and she carefully sat up and licked the chocolate smeared around his mouth. Richard reluctantly pulled away.

“Now don't move.” He went to the sink and washed his hands, returning to Olivia to clean up the chocolate on the counter and to cover the bowl and return the remaining chocolate to the refrigerator. He accomplished each of the tasks while maintaining eye contact with Olivia, who gazed back at him with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. When he finished his chores, he pulled a stool over and sat down in front of his chocolate encrusted wife.

“You're just going to watch?” Olivia asked. Richard nodded.

“Who said watching paint dry was dull?”

“What am I supposed to do while you admire the scenery?” Olivia inquired archly. Richard stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. He undid his belt and removed his jeans as well.

“How's that?” he asked as he sat down again. Olivia smiled and kicked off a shoe. She raised a leg, extending it so that her bare toes could trace the outline of his well-defined shoulder. Richard caught hold of her foot and smiled wickedly as he stuck out his tongue and lightly ticked the tip of each toe.

“Fizz! Don't make me laugh!” Olivia said as she braced herself against the cabinet. Richard arched an eyebrow and ran his tongue along the sole of her foot. “You are so unfair.”

“I think I ought to do this more often. Get you right where I want you and then take advantage,” Richard said as he gently caressed her foot. Olivia raised her other foot and he removed the shoe and repeated the massage.

“Isn't that your usual strategy?” Richard just smiled and continued to slowly stroke one foot while Olivia continued to explore the contours of Richard's arms and shoulders with her other. After a moment, Richard rose and went to her. He began to unbuckle her belt, his eyes still never leaving hers. “And should you be doing that?” Richard merely nodded and very carefully slipped Olivia's jeans off. She reached out and stroked his chest and he leaned in to kiss her. After a moment, Olivia pushed him away.

“Hey! That was just getting interesting!”

“I think you're melting the chocolate,” Olivia smiled. Richard raised his hands to her breasts.

“No, you're hard.” Olivia smiled wickedly and placed her hand over Richard's crotch.

“So are you!” Richard pulled her hand away.

“Behave!” Olivia began to laugh and Richard finally broke eye contact to look at the chocolate bra with alarm. “If you break that…”

“I'm sorry, but the idea of you telling me to behave…” Richard silenced her with a quick kiss, but found himself drawn back to the swollen, succulent lips before him. After a moment, Olivia pushed him away again and pointed to the chocolate smear on his chest.

“We have to get this thing off,” he said as he backed away. “How do we do that?”

“Well, if you'd followed my advice it wouldn't be an issue,” Olivia said sternly. Richard ignored her and simply took hold of a breast in each hand and pressed his index fingers into her bare chest on either side and pulled. The bra came away cleanly and he sighed in relief. He laid it on a towel and returned to his wife. Richard began to lick Olivia's chest, but she pushed him away.

“Hey! You always told me that if I wasn't prepared to clean up after myself I should stay out of your kitchen,” Richard said. Olivia tried to slide off the counter but he blocked her escape.

“I want to take a shower, Fizz.”

“Over my dead body! If you think I slathered you with chocolate so you could go and wash it off you're crazy.”

“I thought you said it wasn't about the chocolate!” Olivia said as she wrapped her legs around Richard's body and pulled him closer. “Are you trying to say that you wouldn't want to make love to me if I went upstairs and got squeaky clean for you?” She put her lips to his ear. “If I got squeaky clean with you?” Richard lifted her into his arms and headed for the stairs. Olivia reached out and grabbed hold of the kitchen's door jamb to stop him.

“Hey! Stop that!”

“The chocolate, Fizz? You can't just leave it there.” Richard sighed and returned to the kitchen. He placed Olivia on the counter and looked for something in which to place his masterpiece. He finally came out of the pantry with a roll of aluminum foil. In the interim, however, Olivia had placed the chocolate bra in a plastic container. “Here,” she said, taking the foil out of Richard's hand and giving him the container. “Put that in the pantry. It's nice and cool in there.” The minute Richard's back was turned, Olivia opened the refrigerator and smiled. She found what she wanted in the door and quickly closed it. When Richard came back she had disappeared.

“Livy!” he cried as he made a dash for the stairs. “You had better not be near water when I get up there.” He heard laughter as he skidded to a halt at the bedroom doorway and found Olivia lying on the bed, shimmying out of her panties. She beckoned him over and sat up to remove his boxers. Then she pulled him onto the bed and straddled him.

“My turn; you've had all the fun so far on this date,” Olivia smiled as she bent to lick the chocolate smear on Richard's chest. “Mmm, needs something…” Richard closed his eyes and allowed her to play. His hands slowly caressed Olivia's silken skin as she kissed and nibbled. He felt her shift and opened his eyes in time to see her produce something from under a pillow.

“Canned, Livy? You?”

“Hey, I didn't buy this stuff; I'm merely taking advantage of it,” she replied as she shook the can of whipped cream. She squeezed the nozzle and began to decorate the love of her life. Richard tried not to giggle as she traced an elaborate pattern across his chest. When she was done she sat back to admire her handiwork, but Richard reached up and grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. Olivia screamed and Richard laughed and rolled her onto her back. “You lunatic!” Olivia cried as she lifted the can to squirt a bit of whipped cream between Richard's eyes. He immediately put his forehead to hers as she cried out and giggled. Then he wrestled her for the can, being careful not to crush Olivia, who was about half his weight and mass.

“I know how you hate it when you make a cake that's so perfect no one wants to cut into it,” Richard said by way of explanation. “I was just making it easier for you.” He rolled onto his back again and lay still. “Have at me.” Olivia opened her mouth to complain, thought better of it, and did as she was bidden. Richard alternately guzzled whipped cream and applied additional dollops to his body for the benefit of Olivia, who eventually insisted on a shower and a change of sheets before the couple continued their activities. Richard, of course, didn't protest, figuring that the shower was as good a place as any to make love. Thus, the couple was some time in returning to the bedroom, where Olivia began to strip the bed so she could make it up in clean linen.

“Why don't we just sleep in the guest room?” Richard said tiredly.

“Yes, let's.” The couple went down the hall and fell into the slightly smaller but immaculate bed. Olivia settled into her favorite position, her body stretched out along Richard's right side. He laughed as he thought about the mess they'd have to deal with in the morning.

“Good thing the housekeeper is coming tomorrow,” he said.

“Good thing we did this here instead of in Greenwich. I'm not sure I'd want to deal with Ms. Pierce's look of disapproval if she caught us.”

“She only directs those sort of looks at me. I think she assumes that I'm a corrupting influence on you.” Olivia lifted her head to kiss his nose.

“You are a corrupting influence on me,” Olivia said before she kissed him between the eyes. “We'd better get the bed stripped and the laundry in the machine before Betsy arrives.” She rested her head on his shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“We are going to be so sick tomorrow,” Richard said when he heard Olivia's stomach grumble in protest at the evening's excesses. “Maybe we should sleep in, drop by the offices late in the morning to check on things and head up to Greenwich early.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Olivia said sleepily.

“And when we get up there you'll teach me how to make real whipped cream. You're right about the canned stuff being inferior.”

**

The next time Olivia opened her eyes the sky was just beginning to lighten outside her window and Richard was sitting at her side smiling.

“What time is it?” she asked as she reached up to caress his face.

“Six o'clock.”

“I thought we were going to sleep in,” she replied as Richard rose and pulled back the covers. He scooped his wife up into his arms and carried her down the hall.

“We are--in our own bed,” Richard said as he entered the master suite. Olivia turned her head to see the now immaculate bedroom.

“You did this?” She kissed him as he placed her on the bed.

“I fully expect a reward,” Richard said as he locked the door and began to remove his robe. Olivia scooted over in the bed and patted the mattress beside her. Richard smiled and joined her. They made love before falling asleep once more. Their slumber was disturbed a couple of hours later by the housekeeper's knock. “Go away!” Richard shouted. Olivia hit him and told Betsy that they were sleeping in and she needn't bother to clean the master suite.

“You did a very nice job of it, too,” she smiled at her beloved.

“Don't check for dust. All I did was make the bed, clean up a few smears on the woodwork and rug here and there and throw the sheets into the laundry. By the way, if Betsy should ask, the boys are responsible for whipped cream on the chenille throw. That's what I wrote on the note when I left it for her downstairs.”

“You're such a good man,” Olivia said before she kissed him.

“Good. Now about my reward…”

“Hey! I just gave you a reward!” Olivia protested.

“Yes and a lovely one it was, too. But to tell you the truth, I was kind of hoping for the rest of that chocolate.”


Tricks or Treats 1: Treats

Note: This is a pre-Charlie naughty bit.

I was down in the office hard at work on something Charles had sent over for me to read when I heard the distinct sound of my wife's pout. All right, so it really isn't audible to the human ear, but I have finely attuned senses where my wife is concerned. I absently stuck out my hand and Annie appeared in my peripheral vision and took hold of it.

“Come upstairs and play,” she pouted. I gave her hand a squeeze.

“I can't play right now. I've got to finish this and return it to Charles in the morning.”

“You could read it in the morning,” Annie whined as she tugged, ineffectively, on my hand.

“Or I could simply read it now and get it over with and sleep in a little later in the morning,” I countered.

“You never sleep in later in the morning. You're always up at six to go out with the girls.” She had me there. It was useless trying to outwit Annie; she had me outwitted two to one, at least.

“I'm all alone upstairs. Todd and Anton left for their party.”

“Oh? Did they finally agree on costumes?”

“Yes. They decided on Tom and Jerry, although Todd looked more like a rat than a mouse. I think that it was intentional.”

“That would be our Todd.” Annie toyed with a strand of my hair and I absently swatted her hand away.

“Ricky,” she pleaded in the despised baby voice. It grated on my nerves, but I pretended to ignore her for the next few minutes, as she licked first my fingers and then the back of my neck. She started nibbling there, too, but accidentally got distracted by the financial statement on the screen. “What is that?”

“It's a grant application. This community-based program is seeking a grant from the Fitzwilliam Foundation to bolster its after school programs. I've got to write up my notes on each application for tomorrow's board meeting.”

“Oh. I guess it is important, then.”

“I'm afraid so, honey. And I have three more to review after this one.” Annie pouted again. She dropped my hand.

“I hate rainy nights.”

“I know, sweetie. I'll be up as soon as I can,” I said with a twinge of guilt.

“Don't bother. I think I'll go out trick or treating.” The elevator door closed behind her before I had a chance to fully understand or question the meaning of her cryptic statement. My eyes went back to the screen. One application form away from returning to my wife, I heard knocking. I turned to look over to the elevator and heard it again. I sighed and rose to investigate. The elevator door opened just as I reached it and Annie stood there, dressed in a black velvet cape. She'd done something with her hair. I'm not crazy about her wearing her hair that way. Although I like the convenient access to her throat, I rather prefer her hair loosely framing her face--preferably in wild disarray after hours of rough and tumble sex. But I digress.

“Annie?” She stepped out of the elevator and right into my personal space. She held up a black velvet drawstring bag.

“Trick or treat?” Cute.

“Sorry, little girl. I don't have anything to give you.” Annie pouted yet again.

“No treats?”

“No treats.” If her eyes looked any sadder I was prepared to just hand over my wallet.

“Tricks?”

“Fresh out.” Annie smiled a rather feral grin. It took me a moment figure out that at least two of the teeth she bared were not standard issue. I was looking at the world's most adorable vampire.

“Treats,” she repeated wickedly. I felt a slight shiver as she said it. Annie dropped the bag and reached up to caress my face. “Treat.” I was toast. At least I was about to become something on her menu; Annie looked decidedly hungry.

She pushed me and I began to move backward. She steered me over to the sofa and ordered me to strip. Well, that's actually an exaggeration. She pointed at my groin and said “treat.” I got the message. So had my groin; by the time my pants hit the ground I was sporting a massive hard-on, which would have embarrassed me had I any shame where my wife was concerned.

Fortunately for me, my wife had no shame where I was concerned, either. She pushed me onto the couch and straddled my lap, nestling her “treat” between us. As she made herself comfortable, she opened her cape to reveal that she was a decidedly vampy vampire. The studded dog collar she wore belonged to one of the girls. Todd had taken them to some party as an accessory to his outfit and bought the girls proper costumes. It was one of his less successful fashion moments. The dog collar, by the way, constituted the entirety of her attire, save for the pair of high, strappy sandals that I bought her when she had a moment of weakness and forgot her resolution to only wear sensible shoes. These shoes make absolutely no sense whatsoever but they made her legs look extremely hot and I loved it when she wore them for me.

She began to unbutton my shirt, kissing each inch of skin as it was bared. Before long, she slid off my lap to follow the buttons and was coming dangerously close to finishing her hors d'oeuvre and moving onto the main course. That's when my instincts for self-preservation kicked in and I grabbed Annie by the shoulders and held her at bay.

“You are so not going there!” Annie giggled.

“Ricky, you are such a wimp,” she said, falling completely out of character.

“You're wearing pointed fangs! Have you ever been bitten on the genitals by someone wearing sharp fangs?” Annie arched her brow.

“Have you?”

“No, and I'd like to keep it that way.” I stuck out my hand and Annie reluctantly handed over the choppers.

“You're spoiling it for me,” She pouted as she climbed back onto my lap and began to stroke my hair. “I had every intention of coming down here, dragging you away from those boring applications and having my way with you,” she pouted. I pulled her hands out of my hair, although I allowed her to continue tongue-tickling my carotid artery with wild abandon. It was a harmless indulgence, now that she was de-fanged.

“You're a very naughty vampire, Annie Fitzwilliam. You know I was down here working hard so I could come up and play with you later.”

“What ever happened to the man I married, the one whose motto was `no time like the present'?” she asked before moving on to nibble at my ear. I would appear at my board meeting covered in hickeys. It probably wouldn't be the first time.

“And what a present you are,” I leered. “Just let me finish this last application and then I'm all yours. It'll take ten minutes, tops.” I kissed Annie before she could pout again and pushed her off my lap. It took only five minutes to finish reading but another ten to write up my notes. Annie's patience is not without limits, you see. She was on my lap and distracting me well before the designated time was up. Served me right, she said, for sitting there without my pants on. But I know a thing or two about my Annie. She would have thrown a fit had I put them back on.

As I finally gave up and allowed my lust-crazed wife lead me to the elevator I made a mental note to call Charles in the morning before he printed out my notes. I just know Annie did something wicked to my file before she hit the save button.


The End



Trick or Treat 2: Tricks

I entered what I thought was my apartment and paused in the foyer, which had been draped with something gauzy that was hanging low enough to smack me in the face. I muttered an oath and reached for the lamp, only to realize it was already on. The space was inexplicably dim.

“Lizzy!” I heard a swishing of fabric being pulled aside and turned to see Lizzy--or someone I hoped was Lizzy--it was too dim to tell. Since when had there been drapes in the foyer?

“Hi, William,” Lizzy said a bit too cheerily. “What do you think?”

“Of what? It's too damned dark in here to see anything!” I heard Lizzy's lilting laughter and felt her take hold of my hand. She led me into what was formerly my living room. It, too, was bathed in insufficient light to read a watch by. “Lizzy?”

“I did a little decorating for the party tomorrow,” Lizzy explained as she pushed me onto the sofa. There was more gauzy stuff draped across the window and over other indefinable things. Black seemed to be the dominant color scheme and every candleholder on the eastern seaboard had been pressed into service on the mantel and in the fireplace. I suspected that Lizzy was no longer in the room, but with all the shadows, it was hard to tell. “Well?” Lizzy said as she handed me a glass of something. She laughed when I jumped out of my skin.

“Did we forget the electric bill?” I tried to ask casually.

“I put a twenty-five watt bulb in the lamps in the foyer. It's all candlelight in here, but I don't think that's going to be safe for the party. Still I thought I'd try it and see how it looks,” Lizzy said before taking a sip of her drink. I took a sip also. It was fruity, rum-laced and very refreshing, till something ice cold hit my cheek and shocked the crap out of me. I reached for it and picked up the shard of ice that Lizzy had plunged into my glass.

“What is this?”

“Ice finger.”

“Ice finger.” I squinted at the woman sitting in the chair opposite me. “Can you see me?”

“Yes.” Figures. She'd been home for hours.

“And you're wearing black in a black room why?”

“What makes you think I'm wearing black? It could just be a trick of the lighting and the décor.”

“Moody.”

“I think so.”

“Ice finger, eh?” I mused as I peered at the icy rod in my hand. Lizzy smiled in response and pulled hers out of her glass. She made a show of licking along its length before plunging it into her mouth. I think. I might have imagined the entire thing, for all I could tell. “Um...have you thought about the risk of injury?” Lizzy may have pouted. “Or the fact that I have a few prized possessions I wouldn't want to see trampled by people moving blindly through the dark?”

“Yes, I did think of all that. I'm going to put the lamps on tomorrow.”

“May I have a preview?” I asked hoping I didn't sound like a complete wimp.

“I thought you liked being in the dark with me!” There was a definite pout in that voice.

“You've never heard me say that,” I said confidently. “I always prefer to be where I can see you.”

“Oh.” Lizzy was suddenly right before me. She pressed her glass into my free hand. How she found it, I don't know. I couldn't have if my life depended on it. She did the thing with the ice finger again, but after licking it this time she rubbed it across her lips and leaned over to kiss me. I would have put the glasses down if I could have found a table. She was fully aware of my predicament, of course, and took advantage of it by plunging her icy tongue down my throat and laughing into my mouth when I yelped. I was about to throw caution to the wind and just toss the damned glasses when she pulled back and moved away. I leapt up, splashing the contents of one glass as I tried to follow her.

“What the fu--?” I cried none too diplomatically. Lizzy turned a lamp on and I dropped both glasses. Lizzy's, fortunately, was empty. My drink splattered the floor and pooled around the glass like so much blood, not that I was worried about my carpet at that moment. I barely gave it, or my undoubtedly stained pants, a look.

“That will be an interesting accent for the party,” Lizzy said archly. I squinted at her--alas, it was still far too dark in the room for my liking. Lizzy was completely naked, save for a wig that masked the most prized of her assets. My eyebrows must have shot through the ceiling. “What do you think of my costume?”

I could not form speech. I walked over to Lizzy and lifted a strategically placed strand of hair and peered at one achingly beautiful, perfect, mouth-watering breast. A second glance assured me that its twin was intact and right where I'd left it.

“Lose something?” I opened my mouth and wished I hadn't spilled my drink. I could have used it just then. “Of course, tomorrow I'll wear a flesh colored body suit...but then again, in the dark, who'd know the difference if I didn't?”

“I would,” I croaked. Lizzy just smiled and raised her hand. She held up that ice finger and it disappeared into her mouth. I swallowed involuntarily as the ice rod emerged from between her succulent lips and she drew it across them lazily and then down her throat and between her breasts. My tongue begged to follow that path but as I willed my feet to step forward she turned out the lamp. I reached out for her, but she'd eluded me. I groped around, muttering, cursing when I when my calf came into contact with the sharp edge of the end table. “Damn it, Lizzy!” The light came back on and I turned to see Lizzy frowning at me.

“William?” She was wearing an old tee shirt and a pair of overalls. “I didn't hear you come in.”

“You didn't hear me--.”

“What do you think of the décor? I like it, but it's not quite right. The candles give a nice effect but the--what the hell are you doing?” she asked when I shoved my hand up her inside her overalls and grabbed her breast. “If there's something you want just ask,” she chuckled as she pulled my hand away.

“You've got on a bra.”

“I knew that, but thank you for checking,” she said wryly. “William! Where did that come from?” Lizzy kneeled and picked up the glasses on the floor. “Go into the kitchen and get the salt.”

“Salt?”

“Yes! Now!” I did as I was bidden and Lizzy took the salt from me and dumped a good bit of it on the stain. “It will absorb the stain completely,” she explained. “Don't touch it for a few hours.” I offered her a hand up and she stood and rubbed her hands. “Now what were you up to in here?” I reached for her and she flinched. “Are you all right?”

“I don't know.” I withdrew my hand and sat down on the couch completely bewildered. I knew what I had seen. I knew what I had touched. There was no way Lizzy could have left the room and put on all of those clothes so quickly. No way.

“Are you sure?” Lizzy asked as she sat down beside me. I reached out and touched her hair. Could she have removed that wig so quickly? “Has Neiheisel been giving you grief again? You look completely done in. Let me get you something.” She rose and disappeared, returning moments later with a glass. “Here, honey. This is the punch drink I'm trying out for the party.” I smiled an “aha' but the glass she handed me held an orange liquid, unlike the red drink I had earlier.

“Tell me this isn't pumpkin flavored,” I said.

“Mango, she laughed. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She grabbed the glass en route to my lips and dashed into the kitchen. “I found this great ice tray today.” I looked at the finger of ice she'd placed in my glass and then into the eyes of my beloved.

“Are you a witch?”

“You've always thought so, haven't you?” She ran her fingers through my hair. “You don't look at all well.” I rested my head on her shoulder. “Maybe we ought to postpone the party.”

“No, no. I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I've just had a long day.”

“Well, if you're sure. Actually, I'd hate to have to cancel. I finally hit on just the right outfit to wear tomorrow.”

“Lady Godiva?” I said dully.

“You peeked!” Lizzy pouted.

“Yes, I did. And I definitely intend on peeking again tomorrow.”


The End



Trick or Treat 3: Tomatoes?

“Damn!” I looked up at my spouse, who was staring at a card that had come in the mail. “I'm not going.”

“Not going where?”

“Lizzy and William are giving a Halloween party and we've been invited.”

“But we're not going, because…” It would have been foolish to assume anything else. If Annie wasn't going I was certainly expected to stay home and keep her company during her boycott.

“Can you see me in a Halloween costume?” she asked in a high-pitched voice, running her hand over Charlie for emphasis. That was a clear warning, but I nonetheless recklessly allowed a smile to touch my lips. “Don't!” I dropped my newspaper and crossed the room to her side. I pulled her into my arms and tried to console her, but she wasn't buying it.

“All right, we'll stay home. But it might be fun to go, just to see what the lieutenant wears. He could be a ghost in designer sheets, or the only Count Dracula to wear Armani--. Ouch!” For a pregnant woman she packed a wallop.

“We're not going!”

“All right.” Damn if I didn't start laughing again. Annie glanced up and frowned.

“Ricky?”

“You'd make such a cute pumpkin. I could attach vines to your--. Ouch!”

“Pig!” I kissed her golden hair and smiled as she squirmed around to face away from me. I noticed that she maintained body contact, so I knew she wasn't that mad.

“How about a ball of yarn? Eight ball? I'll be a pool shark!” She pretended to ignore me, but I knew she'd smiled; the room got appreciably warmer. “Or we could go as a ball and chain. You should like that. We'd be connected all evening so you can keep an eye on the women who try to flirt with me.” That got a slight chuckle out of her.

“That would be cute, but I'd rather see you as something more interesting than a chain,” she said, turning toward me with a slightly wicked smile.

“Like what?”

“Like a pirate, in snug breeches and a loose fitting shirt, maybe an earring--.”

“And you'd be my keg of rum? Ouch!”

“You're incorrigible!” I kissed her brow and she rested her head against my shoulder.

“You know, Annie, we could go as the Borgias. That way you can wear a gown.”

“What? You don't want me to be your vat of poison?” Annie asked a little defensively. It was time to stop teasing and start reassuring.

“You'd make a lovely vat of poison, but I'd rather see you as Lucretia. Vats don't have enticing cleavage.”

“Neither do kegs of rum,” Annie pointed out.

“Which is precisely why I suggested the pumpkin. Now, pumpkins do have cleavage.” Annie eyed me suspiciously.

“They do not.”

“Well, you have lovely pumpkins,” I teased with a suggestive waggle or brows. That got a smile.

“So, what, you paint me orange and--.”

“Not unless it's edible paint,” I said, upping the ante a bit. “And if all you're going to wear is paint, then we're definitely staying home because I'm the only one who gets to admire the pumpkins in your patch. Uh…admire your pumpkins and your patch,” I hastily amended with an explanatory glance at Annie's lap.

“You know I love it when you go all jealous and possessive but I hardly think my melons are likely to arouse much interest in my current state.”

“Berries; pumpkins are berries, not melons. Although I must say that in your current state your pumpkins have grown from Jack-B-Littles to Jackpots,” I said smugly. “That would arouse any man's interest.”

“Am I supposed to understand that?”

“Bigger is better,” I said, miffed that she could not appreciate my knowledge of pumpkin varieties.

“Is that like growing from a Picobello to a Serenade?” Damn. The little smartass had me completely stumped. “Cucumbers, dear.” When did we go from talking about Halloween to agriculture? How the hell does she know cucumber breeds? The question was rendered moot when she affectionately patted what was presumably my Serenade…or what soon would be.

I took Annie by the hand and led her up to the bedroom. Todd was around somewhere and she was a bit more self-conscious since becoming pregnant. I don't know why; she was absolutely beautiful, round and ripe like a…no; no more fruit references. I peeled my wife's clothes off (no pun intended) and began to explore her soft silky skin with my lips and tongue. Selfish prick that I am, I left her with the task of undressing me while I teased her “berries” and nibbled at her sensitive spots along her throat.

“Maybe we can go to the party as Adam and Eve, post Garden of Eden. That way we can wear something,” Annie managed to say between gasps of ecstasy and muffled curses as she struggled with my button-fly jeans. I finally tore myself away from her long enough to dispose of them.

“Charlie can go as Cain. Or would that be Abel?” I didn't wait for an answer, if she was inclined to give one. I plundered her mouth with my tongue and pulled her down onto the bed.

“You know,” Annie said drowsily, sometime later. “You'd look great in a toga.” She raised her head and looked at me, draped in sheeting. At some point, the comforter had fallen to the floor. I'm sure Io and Europa had made themselves quite comfortable on it, as usual. I shook my head to negative the idea.

“You were right. We should stay home on Halloween.”

“Have our own party?”

“Adam and Eve, before the fall?” she inquired.

“Small berries, big cucumber?” Annie hit me, but she conceded that I was right.

“Beats the alternative,” she sighed as I crawled to the foot of the bed to retrieve the comforter.

“Big berries, small cuke?” I asked. Annie nodded as she settled into my arms for more post-coital snuggling. A moment later she began to giggle. “Annie?”

“You could be a farmer.” I joined her in giggling.

“Bringing my prize pumpkins to the fair? Ouch!” Annie was still smiling, thankfully.

“With a cucumber in your pocket,” she corrected, stroking my prized produce for emphasis.

“Accompanied by?”

“I don't know,” she whined.

“How about a wraith with an eating disorder? Ouch!” Callisto appeared at my side, inquiring as to my welfare, a day late and a dime short. I patted her head and she laid down again. “How about an angel? That wouldn't be too much of a stretch for you.”

“An angel? Ricky have you ever seen a pregnant angel?”

“No, but if you put on a loose gown and wings, who'll know your pregnant?”

“I will.”

“Then how about Demeter, the goddess of harvest and bounty?” Annie sat up and turned the lights on.

“Was she knocked up?”

“Hey, she was out harvesting.”

“With Farmer Fitzwilliam?”

“Undoubtedly; she's particularly fond of his produce, I hear.”

“I like it!” My Annie smiled radiantly and snuggled under the covers again. I sighed and sat up to put the lights out. “What would she wear?”

“Ask me tomorrow,” I said through a huge yawn.

“She can't go barefoot. It's too darned cold.”

“I'm sure Demeter always wears warm Polarfleece socks,” I said.

“Good. And a flowing white gown with a blue robe and a wreath of fruit and flowers in my hair.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” I said drowsily.

“And golden sandals…maybe a necklace of cucumber slices…”

“Hey!”

“Just seeing if you were still awake.” Annie closed her eyes and in minutes she was sleeping contentedly. Love that woman to pieces.


The End.


Trick or Treat 4: Trickle

William sat up abruptly and turned on the lamp. He looked at the woman lying beside him and then touched his neck. His fingers came away stained with blood. He carefully climbed out of bed to examine the source of the bleeding. To his shock, he found two small, slightly swollen puncture marks on his throat when he looked in the mirror.

“When I get a hold of that damned cat,” he muttered as he headed for the bathroom. But as he opened the door, Squeaks came barreling out of the room, having been accidentally locked up hours earlier. William frowned as he watched the cat scamper across the room and out the door. “Well, if...” William looked at Lizzy again. He shook his head and went into the bathroom. There in the brighter light, he got a closer look at the wound. “Lizzy?”

“Yes?” William spun around to confront the woman who'd seemingly appeared from nowhere to stand within inches of him. He hadn't heard the creaking of the noisy spot on the old wooden floor, hadn't heard a single footfall. He hadn't heard a sound. William gazed at Lizzy with wide eyes and she frowned in concern.

“Are you all right?” William nodded as he eyed her cautiously. She certainly looks like the woman he'd taken to his bed three hours earlier. She still wore his zillion sizes too large pajama top, her legs were as beautiful as he remembered them and her eyes--well, he wasn't sure he was ready to probe the fathomless depths of those eyes just then.

“I…uh…I had to pee.”

“Oh,” Lizzy said with a wry smile. William sighed. Lizzy's smile broadened and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He instinctively looked down to admire the cleavage that formed as she pressed her body to his, but the moment her lips approached his throat he flinched. “Are you sure you're all right?” she asked.

“Cold tile,” William lied, although his bare bottom had just made contact with the wall, providing him with a plausible excuse. He closed his eyes momentarily and then, like a man on the verge of plunging into shark-infested waters, he took a deep breath and dove for Lizzy's mouth. He explored every inch of it, fearful of what he might find. But everything he found was familiar, sweet, beloved Lizzy. No fangs, no forked tongue, no evidence of demonic possession--nothing to arouse his fears. He relaxed and warmed to the kiss as every sensory organ in his body roared to life. By the time Lizzy broke the kiss, William had forgotten all about his mysterious wound. He wanted Lizzy and happily allowed her to draw him back to bed.

They'd made slow, passionate love before William suggested that they both get a little sleep before the alarm clock went off in the morning. He closed his eyes and had just begun to doze off when he felt Lizzy straddle him. He opened his eyes to the sight of Lizzy grinning at him. He opened his mouth to form a gentle rejection when Lizzy put her finger to his lips. Then she slowly drew her finger over his lips down his chin to his Adam's apple. When Lizzy's finger reached his chest the pressure of her fingernail became appreciably harder. William ran his tongue over his lip and tasted blood as he felt something akin to the point of a knife being drawn the length of his chest. He raised his head and attempted to stop Lizzy but found that both his wrists and his ankles had been secured. He tried to call out but made no sound.

Lizzy smiled wickedly as he writhed on the bed at the sharp pain that flared along the path she'd drawn. Lizzy bent her head and lightly lapped at the droplets of blood. Then William was subjected to more scratches and more licks, driving William mad with an intoxicating combination of fear, pain and inexplicable lust. He felt himself become aroused and despised himself for it. He couldn't like what was happening. There was a sadistic edge to Lizzy a she ran her tongue from his collarbone to pubic line. She smiled lewdly at his erect and twitching manhood, took hold of it and dabbed at its tip with her tongue. William involuntarily raised his head and caught sight of Lizzy's bared fangs. She smiled at him as his mouth opened wider.

His silent scream suddenly became piercingly loud. Squeaks leapt off the bed and Lizzy sat bolt upright and grabbed William's arm. She shook him none too gently, till William opened his eyes and fell silent.

“What the hell?”

“I was about to ask the same question,” Lizzy said. “Were you having some sort of nightmare?” He abruptly sat up, grabbed Lizzy's chin and pried her mouth open. “William?” She endured the examination, which entailed a thorough probing with his index finger. Lizzy smirked at him when he was done. “Are you planning to sell me into white slavery?” Slightly abashed, William shook his head and slid out of bed. He looked down at his chest, ignoring Lizzy's gentle pat on his backside. There was no sign of scratches or blood. William frowned and turned to look back at Lizzy.

“Good morning,” he said sheepishly.

“Hi, yourself. Would you mind telling me what's going on? First you wake me up by screaming loud enough to wake the dead and then you try to remove my tonsils with your bare hands. What gives?”

“I just had the strangest dream,” he replied dazedly. He rubbed his hands over his face as Lizzy slipped out of bed. He watched the movement of her derriere under the navy silk pajama top as she made her way to the bathroom.

“You can make it up to me by letting me have the bathroom first,” she said sweetly before closing the door. William frowned.

“It seemed so real,” he muttered as he slipped on a bathrobe and went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. William scratched his head, dredging up hazy, dream-like memories of a night of wild, passionate, rough sex. He felt slightly queasy as he remembered seeing Lizzy voraciously going down on him and trailing her bared fangs along the length of his penis. It had scared him half to death and made him impossibly harder.

Lizzy had taken full advantage of his arousal and mounted him repeatedly, never allowing him release until he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion and overwhelmed senses. When he came to, Lizzy was kneeling over him, rubbing her full, moist breasts over his face. Like a starving man he lifted his face to them but turned his face away and spat out the copper metallic taste he immediately recognized. He looked at her in disgust and saw the smear of his own blood on her chest.

“Don't you want me any more, William? I want you to want me,” Lizzy purred before she dipped the tip of her tongue in his ear. “Oh. Don't like the taste of blood, do you? Well, it's your own, you know. You should be very familiar with the taste, as I am,” she said as she flicked her tongue over the spot of his recent wound. William tried to turn his face away, but Lizzy merely laughed. She trailed her tongue down his neck, languidly making her way to his nipple. She teased it to hardness as William squirmed. He lurched up off the bed as she suddenly moved up and bit into the puncture wound beneath his ear and drank. William screamed as she pulled away, revealing a pair of dripping fangs. She touched a finger to the wound and drew a line down William's chest with it, following the trail with her tongue. Then it had begun all over again: arousal to the point of pain, being used by Lizzy, and a few minutes of rest while she revived herself with another taste of his blood. He'd finally grown so weak that he became insensible of the torment. William shook his head to erase the image of his pallid body lying on the blood spatter sheets. He poured himself a cup of coffee and left the kitchen.

On his return to the bedroom, he walked over to the dresser and peered at his reflection in the mirror, examining his chest closely for any sign of scarring. Finding none, he shook his head. He was about to turn away when a flash of red caught his eye. He turned back to the mirror and leaned forward. Right below his right ear were two small puncture wounds, slightly swollen but scabbed over. Beneath them was a short trail of dried blood. William blinked at his reflection. He opened the dresser's top drawer and ferreted around till he found his grandmother's rosary. He slipped the hand holding it into the pocket of his robe. Then he walked to the window and pulled back all the shades and sat down in the easy chair next to the window, waiting for Lizzy to come out of the bathroom.

The End

---