Throw Me A Bone

Cover art courtesy of Chris Wetherill

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Chapter One

Malcolm watched as Guy walked away, whistling cheerfully as he did so, hands casually

in his pockets as if he didn't have a care in the world. Perhaps as far as Guy was concerned he
didn't, but Malcolm wondered how that could be when Guy was keeping secrets from the
man he claimed to love.

Only last night, Guy had held Malcolm in his arms and declared how very much he was

loved, how Malcolm was Guy's whole world. Malcolm had so wanted to believe Guy; he
needed to believe the man that he loved with all his heart and soul. Much to his great sorrow
and abiding despair, he couldn't. So Malcolm pasted a smile on his lips and tasted ash as he
told Guy that he loved him too, and that he always would. That he had never loved anyone as
he loved Guy. True words; words that should have been joyously spoken, not given in despair
and thrown away on stony ground to lie untended and uncared for.

For once not reading Malcolm properly, not seeing his lover's hidden pain, Guy had

merely smiled his pleasure and kissed and caressed Malcolm. Malcolm allowed the intimacy
with a passion borne of pain and not joy.

Guy had slept peacefully afterward, arms wrapped around Malcolm, his head resting on

Malcolm's chest. Malcolm, however, was unable to settle and lay awake watching Guy sleep,
wondering how Guy could sleep the sleep of the innocent when Malcolm knew his lover was
guilty of deception.

Malcolm couldn't understand what had gone wrong, what had caused Guy to need the love

of another. Guy had seemed so content, so happy in his relationship with Malcolm.
Malcolm's mind drifted back to the day when he thought all his dreams had come true...

It had been ten months ago. He and Guy were close friends and spent a lot of their free

time together. They had just finished dinner at their favorite restaurant and were walking
through the park, heading back to Malcolm's place.

"Come, sit a moment, Mal," Guy said abruptly, leading Malcolm to a bench close by. Guy

seemed nervous, which wasn't like him at all.

Malcolm was a little puzzled by Guy's mood, but did as Guy wanted.
"I've been trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you for a while now," Guy began.
Malcolm felt a flutter of fear. "What's wrong?"
Guy smiled. "Nothing. I hope everything is right." He took a deep breath and squared his

shoulders. "I'm in love with you and I..."

"You love me?" Malcolm squeaked.
Guy laughed. "Oh yeah. And I..."
"God, I can't believe it. I've been trying to find a way to tell you and... you just come out

and say it."

"Well, I'm trying to say it, but," Guy gulped as Malcolm grabbed him and pulled him

close. "I guess that answers the question of how you feel about me." Guy wrapped his arms
around Malcolm and pressed his face into Malcolm's neck.

Malcolm leaned back a couple of inches, just so he could look Guy in the face. "I'll be

quiet. I want to hear what you were going say."

Guy pushed away from Malcolm but kept hold of his hands. "I thought I'd been in love

before, but I know now that just isn't true. I never even knew I was capable of such deep
feelings. And each day I love you more."

Malcolm's heart was overflowing. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't seem to

form words. Instead he closed the space between them and kissed Guy with all the passion he
could muster. He loved Guy to distraction and would have sacrificed anything for him,

anything at all, but until he heard those words, he hadn't realized that Guy's feelings were so
strong.

The need to breathe forced them apart. Malcolm took Guy's face in his hands. "I hardly

know what to say. I don't know what I've done to deserve such devotion." His gaze sliding
over Guy's face, Malcolm added, "Except that I love you very much and will be grateful for
the rest of my life that you love me too."

"Why do you always put yourself down like that?" Guy's voice was soft, yet it held a cold

anger. "I hate when you do that, when you de-value yourself like that."

"I'm nothing special."
"God, Malcolm, yes, you are. You are."
Yet now, sadly, it seemed Malcolm had been proven correct. Less than ten months later,

Guy was seeing someone else.

Guy had never said so, of course. He'd never let on that anything had changed.

***

They spent as much time together as they could, usually at Malcolm's place a couple of

times a week and at Guy's most weekends, though occasionally they would go away for the
weekend. It seemed Guy could relax more out of the city. For Malcolm, it wasn't enough. It
was maybe six months after they'd gotten together that very happy Malcolm suggested they
move in together.

Guy had smiled gently at Malcolm, and pulled him close. "Oh, Malcolm, that would be

wonderful, but it's not possible just now."

Malcolm pulled back, a little hurt. "Why not? We're happy aren't we, together? Aren't

we?"

"Yes, Malcolm, and nothing would be more perfect than to live with you, but you know

the type of firm I work for. If it got out..." Guy shrugged, held Malcolm's gaze. "Please
understand."

Unfortunately, Malcolm did. Guy was an accountant and the firm he worked for was ultra-

conservative. If it became public knowledge that Guy was gay, he would be out on his ear in
no time flat.

"You know I have plans to set up my own practice as soon as I can--"
"Yeah," Malcolm interrupted, "but you said it'd be quite some time before you can do

that."

"I know. I'm sorry, Mal. Please believe me. As soon as I'm out on my own, we'll get a

place together." He pulled Malcolm into his embrace again. "It probably won't be much, but
as long as I have you, it'll be perfect."

"I know I agreed from the beginning that we needed to be circumspect for your sake, but I

need more, Guy."

"I understand, Malcolm, I really do. Don't you think I want to share my life with you every

moment I can? But it's not wise, not yet."

"I am sick to death of being wise," Malcolm declared. "I want to be free, free to be with

the man I love."

Guy sighed. He took Malcolm in his arms and kissed him, and took him to bed to show

Malcolm in the most expressive way he could how much he loved him; but he never agreed
to see Malcolm more often.

At least Malcolm could speak to Guy on the phone the evenings they couldn't be together,

and it wasn't unusual for Malcolm to lie in bed, letting Guy's voice wash over him, imagining
it was his lover caressing him rather than his own hand.

One evening he called Guy when his lover was supposed to be home, but there was no

answer. Malcolm tried on a few occasions over a couple of weeks and, even though Guy was
expected to be home on each occasion, he never answered.

Each time it happened, Malcolm mentioned calling and Guy had made some excuse; he

was in the bath, he was on his roof, he was in his yard. Malcolm knew he was lying. Why
would Guy lie to me? Because he can't tell me the truth!

After the third excuse, Malcolm spent that entire night prowling his apartment, going over

and over what he knew; what he suspected; what he feared. He came to the only conclusion
he could. Guy was covering up something, something so private that he couldn't tell his
significant other -- Guy was seeing someone else. It was obvious that Guy still cared for him,
but not enough, not as much as Malcolm thought he once had. Malcolm assumed Guy
couldn't face hurting Malcolm, so he kept his needs, his desires a secret.

Guy needed someone else; he was loving someone else.
Well, why wouldn't he? Guy Romer was a fantastic catch. He had great looks, an

incredible body, and a wonderful if somewhat twisted sense of humor. Anyone would fall for
him and someone else obviously had.

Malcolm couldn't blame them; after all, it had happened to him. He should have known,

perhaps he always had known, that it couldn't really last. Not for him. Not for Malcolm
Henderson, who couldn't keep anyone.

Chapter Two

That had been about a month ago, and Malcolm estimated that Guy had been seeing

someone else for about two months before that. Malcolm had finally been presented with the
proof he needed only a few days ago.

Malcolm was a translator. He'd always been good at languages at school, found he had a

natural talent for them and by the time he was twenty-two, he was fluent in six languages. He
had considered becoming a teacher, but he had another love in his life too; he loved to write
fiction. He decided teaching would be too time consuming, and instead he ended up doing
translation work to pay his bills while he wrote his novel. In fact, he had written three novels
before he actually managed to get one published, and while it didn't set the world on fire, he
lived quite comfortably from the combined income as a translator and a novelist.

Like most writers, Malcolm loved to read and he often visited the library, especially if he

was doing research. He did a lot of research online of course, but he also enjoyed the feel of a
solid book between his hands. He had been trawling the shelves one day shortly before
closing time when he could've sworn he'd heard Guy's voice. He froze for a moment and then
smiled. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the shelves, and from the laughter he
heard, it seemed Guy was enjoying a good laugh with someone. Curious as to who Guy was
with, Malcolm moved to the end of the row to look for his lover. He reached the end of the
stack to see Guy with his arm around the shoulders of another man, their heads close
together. The laugher had died down and they were murmuring together.

The stranger was tall, well built, with jet black hair that looked like silk. Malcolm felt as if

someone had punched him in the gut. By the time he recovered his equilibrium, Guy and the
man had moved off. Malcolm stared at the space where they'd been.

Malcolm's first thought was that he was letting his imagination run away with him. So the

two men had been friendly and laughing together, that was all.

But then; twice in three days?
Malcolm had been caught out in a sudden rain shower and popped into a restaurant that he

occasionally used. Even though the lunchtime crush was over, it was still pretty full, probably
due to the rain. He was surprised when he saw Guy sitting at one of the tables. His pleasure
fled, though, when he saw that also seated at Guy's table was the man he'd seen with Guy at
the library three days earlier. This time Malcolm could see the man in profile. He was very
good-looking.

Malcolm moved slowly forward, debating whether he should let Guy know he was there,

perhaps then he would learn who the man was. Wouldn't he feel silly to know the man was
just a work colleague? And oh so relieved. However, they were so involved talking, Guy
never even saw him approaching. Malcolm was so near that he could hear the whispered
conversation as Guy agreed to meet the stranger the next evening.

Malcolm's appetite disappeared with the arrival of the pain in his chest. He turned around

and went back out into the rain. It seemed ideal for the way he felt, cold and stinging as it
washed the tears from his cheeks.

***

At first Malcolm decided to keep his discovery to himself. Guy still seemed to care and

whatever Malcolm could get, he'd take. He had no pride when it came to his love for Guy.

However, as time passed, Malcolm came to understand it wasn't enough. He'd had Guy to

himself for too long, and now he couldn't -- wouldn't -- share. He decided he had more pride
than he'd thought and felt he deserved better; he at least deserved Guy's honesty if he no
longer had Guy's undivided love.

The phone rang. "Malcolm?"

"Guy. Is something wrong?" It was one of the nights that Guy was supposed to spend at

Malcolm's and he was afraid that his lover was calling to cancel.

"No, everything's fine. I just wanted to invite you to come round to my place tonight. For a

change."

"Your place? Mid-week? Well, that's certainly different."
"I know," Guy said and Malcolm could swear he heard the amusement in Guy's voice. "I

have something to tell you. I thought we could eat here, it's been a while since I cooked for
us."

Malcolm had already decided to have it out with Guy that night, and it now looked as if

perhaps Guy had something special to say, too. Malcolm was afraid of what it might be, yet
at the same time he felt a kind of odd relief, a release that finally something was going to
happen. He doubted he would like it, nor was he sure what he would do. Was he going to just
take it? To keep Guy in his life? He'd lost so many times before and he'd coped, somehow.

He didn't know what he would do, what he'd say. Oh God, I still love him so much. What

can I do? What if he wants to end it? What if he wants to tell me he has someone else, too, but
still be with me? What do I do? Which is worse?

Malcolm was torn between telling Guy how he really felt, the betrayal, the despair, the

hurt and almost to his surprise, the anger, but he also had his pride and didn't want Guy to
know how lost he was feeling. He thought perhaps the best thing was just to let it happen.

***

Malcolm arrived at Guy's, hesitating before knocking on the door. He wished he could be

sure what to do. Was a life of loneliness and misery any worse than what he was feeling
now? Were those wonderful moments of joy and belonging enough to redress the balance
against those terrible times of anguish and pain, of betrayal and despair? Once perhaps, but
not now. If he couldn't have all of Guy then perhaps it was better to let him go. Malcolm
wanted to be able to say that he wished Guy happiness with his new love, but it was still too
raw.

He realized he'd been standing there for some time, going over what he'd already decided.

The only question now was if he'd be strong enough to carry it through. It was so easy to
make such plans, but when he was actually facing Guy? He didn't know.

He took a deep breath and knocked. The door opened almost immediately and Malcolm

sucked in a breath at the sight of Guy. He wasn't wearing the usual casual, comfortable stay-
at-home outfit. Tonight he looked as if he'd dressed for a night out, a date. He was still
casual, but oh so smart: light-weight dark grey slacks, a silk silver grey shirt, both fitted to
perfection and showing the sleek lines of his body. His usually unruly hair was brushed
neatly, the blond highlights brought into prominence by his outfit, his beautiful green eyes
sparkling with amusement.

"Finally decided to come in? Thought I might have to serve up on my lawn." Guy grinned.
Malcolm blushed but said nothing; he couldn't even raise a smile. Guy's smile froze for a

moment, but then he moved aside to let Malcolm enter. When he saw the setting, Malcolm
was shaken. Guy had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to set the scene. The lighting was
low, mostly candles and side lights. The table was laid when usually they ate casually in front
of the TV. There was wine breathing on the table, sitting amongst good crockery and
glassware. There was gentle music playing in the background, not the usual sports or news
blaring out on the TV.

For a moment Malcolm was puzzled, then suddenly he was angry. Did Guy think to soften

the blow with... with this?

"What's all this?" he asked angrily.
"Dinner," Guy answered, looking puzzled by Malcolm's attitude. "I told you I wanted to

cook a meal for us, don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember, but this? What the hell are you playing at?"
"Playing at? I don't understand. What's wrong?"
"Wrong? You tell me. I thought we were good. I thought it was enough, I was enough. I

should have known better--"

"Mal, what the hell are you talking about?" Guy tried to interrupt, but Malcolm just

continued as if he'd never spoken.

"--why the fuck am I so surprised? What did I really expect? What do I ever do but lose?

Why should this time be any different? Why should you be any different?" Suddenly all the
anger had gone, it just evaporated and he felt like crying. He wouldn't, though, not now.
Perhaps later when he was alone. He continued, quieter now. "I just wish you'd told me the
truth from the beginning, when you... when you knew. It would've been kinder than to keep
me hanging around like this."

Chapter Three

"I don't understand. What do you mean? When I knew what? Mal, for God's sake what's

wrong?" Guy was scared, he didn't understand what was happening but he certainly didn't
like what he was hearing, what he was seeing. It was plain to him that Malcolm was near to
tears and for some reason Malcolm was blaming him.

Had he done something? Forgotten to do something?
"You didn't need to go to all this trouble just to tell me, you know," Malcolm said bitterly.
"Tell you what?" Guy's frustration boiled over.
"Oh please, Guy, stop," Malcolm sighed wearily. "Just tell me so I can leave."
Guy's gut clenched. "Leave? You want to leave... to leave me?" The blood in his veins felt

like ice, yet his skin prickled with heat. "What have I done? Mal, please whatever it is, we
can fix it."

Malcolm raised his eyes to look at Guy and he looked confused. He frowned and tipped

his head on one side.

Guy watched as Malcolm glanced around and saw the expression on his face change

slowly and then he turned to look at Guy again. Guy had no idea what had gotten into
Malcolm, but he understood they needed to talk, really talk and Guy was under no illusion
that talking was something he did particularly well. If he hadn't screwed up his courage that
night ten months ago, buoyed by a really good wine, the odds are that he and Malcolm would
still be 'just good friends'. But this time he'd have to dig deep, find it in himself to really open
up. Whatever had upset Malcolm, he was blaming Guy so much that he felt the need to end
things between them. Guy wouldn't only talk, he would cajole; Lord, he would beg. He
couldn't lose Malcolm, he just couldn't.

"Malcolm," he began softly. "Please talk to me, tell me what's going on."
With a raised eyebrow, Malcolm asked. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"Huh?"
"Are you honestly telling me there is nothing going on?"
Guy frowned at Malcolm's tone and his phraseology. "What? I've done something I

shouldn't? Or is it that I haven't done something I should? Throw me a bone here, Malcolm,
please."

Malcolm regarded Guy seriously. Guy held the look and returned it. "Throw you a bone?

You're telling me there is nothing you think you should tell me?"

"Well, there was the thing I invited you over for tonight, but I'm pretty sure you don't

know about that, it's a surprise." Guy gave a small smile, but Malcolm didn't react and he
ploughed on nervously. "Mal, there's nothing else. I don't know what you want."

"Fine," Malcolm snapped. "A bone: quite a few times over the last month or so I called

you, needing to talk to you. I missed your company so much, but you were never there. You
were supposed to be home, or so you said. When I asked you made an excuse, you lied."

"Ah, I see." Guy's heart thudded in his chest.
"Do you? I don't. I don't see why you had to lie to me, Guy. Or perhaps I do." Malcolm

took a breath. "You needed more didn't you, more than I could give you? I gave you
everything I am and it wasn't enough. You found someone else, didn't you? I saw you with
him, twice. I even heard you make a date with him. Does he heat your blood more than I ever
have? Oh God, I can't stand this."

Guy went to move closer to him, but Malcolm held up a hand and Guy waited as Malcolm

took a breath and went on.

"I would've understood if you told me, Guy. I've been there before, but you know that.

After all, I told you about all my failed relationships. Never held onto anyone, have I? What I

can't take is the deception -- never expected that of you, Guy. You were the one person I
thought I could rely on to be there, the one person I could trust and you took it all. I could
have forgiven you if you told me the truth. But this..."

Guy listened to Malcolm and his heart was breaking. He'd thought he understood

Malcolm, thought he knew what Malcolm had been through in his past. Malcolm had kept
nothing back when they finally got together, opened up to him as he never had to anyone else
before. Told Guy all his secrets, all his pain, and Guy had sworn to himself that Malcolm
would never have to suffer like that again. He'd promised Malcolm that he would never leave
him and never let him go. It was what Malcolm had needed to hear and Guy had meant it.
Still did.

However, he'd made a simple mistake, he'd underestimated Malcolm and he should have

known better. He would have to handle this very carefully.

"Malcolm, come and sit down. We need to talk and you have to listen to me." Guy reached

out and snagged Malcolm's arm, half expecting him to pull away, but he didn't. Guy pulled
him over to the sofa and they sat down side by side.

"You said before you always believed you could trust me, but now you believe I have

been lying to you."

***

Malcolm nodded and dropped his head onto his chest. He didn't seem to be able to feel

anymore, not pain, not despair. He was just empty.

"I have been lying to you," Guy admitted.
Malcolm was wrong, he could still feel pain. He closed his eyes.
"I lied each of those days when I said I was staying in. It wasn't meant as a serious lie and

I'm sorry my stupid thoughtlessness caused you so much unhappiness. I wanted to do
something for you and I wanted it to be a surprise, but I needed help. Help that Luigi Carileri
provided."

"What kind of help?" Malcolm asked.
"Communication, Malcolm. You and I communicate in the most visceral way there is."

Guy attempted a smile. "But there is one thing you do that really turns me on."

Malcolm felt a flicker of hope, but he couldn't trust it, not now. "Just one?"
"Okay, lots of ways, but there's one way even when we're not touching. Language, Mal. I

know how much words mean to you. You caress me with words, beautiful words that I don't
always know the meaning of, but I know what you mean by using them. I wanted to do that
for you. I wanted to be able to caress you with words."

"What have you done?" Malcolm breathed, hope flaring in his chest.
"I've been taking lessons from Carileri... in Italian, the language of love." Guy sat forward,

eyes locked with Malcolm's. "Mal, you have to listen. I'm not as clever with words as you. I
can't explain well, but you have to trust in my love for you. You have to believe me. I haven't
been seeing anyone else; I would never do that to you. You said before that you gave me
everything you are and that it wasn't enough. Dear God, you have no idea what you do to me,
what you mean to me. I can't get enough of you; I don't think there'll be enough days in my
life for you to fill. I can't see anyone else but you and I don't want to. I can't understand why
you value yourself so little, but you are the most precious thing in the world to me and don't
you ever forget that."

Malcolm's heart was singing. Guy loved him, really loved him. He reached out to caress

Guy's cheek. "I don't think you need lessons in language, Guy, that was most eloquent. Now
take me to bed and communicate with me. Caress me with the language of love and then we
can try some of that visceral communication you're so good at."

Guy said, "I'd like nothing better, but there was the surprise I invited you over for tonight."
"The lessons weren't the surprise?"

"No, actually that surprise was supposed to be next month, for our anniversary."
"Oh, Guy. I do love you." He brushed his lips across Guy's mouth and Guy opened up and

Malcolm slipped his tongue inside, tasting every surface.

Gasping, Guy broke away. "Don't you want to know my surprise? I think you'll like it and

then we'll have two reasons to celebrate." He smiled.

"Tell me."
"I quit my job today."
"What?"
Guy laughed. "I actually hired Carileri so he could help me set up my accountancy firm.

The Italian lessons were just an off-shoot of the friendship we developed because of that. I'm
sorry I kept that to myself, but I wanted to present it to you as a done deal."

Malcolm just stared at Guy. Then he smiled. "Guy, does this mean we can move in

together?"

"Okay, three reasons to celebrate." Guy grinned.
"What're we waiting for?"

Chapter Four

Malcolm felt so different than he had the last few times he'd been in Guy's arms. This was

the way it used to be, the way he ought to feel when he was making love. And he really was
making love. Guy's hands brushed over his shoulders and slid down his back as Guy kissed
him, taking Malcolm's breath and making his heart beat faster as his blood rushed to fill his
cock. Malcolm rolled them over so Guy lay beneath him.

Guy's eyes were open wide, staring at him as if Malcolm were all he could see. That made

Malcolm feel so special. He wanted to be special to this man; he wanted to be everything to
Guy, just as Guy was everything to him.

"Ti amo," Guy murmured.
"Ti amo con tutta l'amina." Malcolm nibbled at the corner of Guy's mouth.
"Oh, Malcolm. I want to feel you inside me."
Malcolm's eyes widened and his cock jerked to indicate what he thought of that idea. It

had been a while since Malcolm had taken Guy, it just usually happened the other way
around. Not always, to be sure, but more often than not. Malcolm smiled. "It's been a while
but I think I know how everything works."

Guy laughed. "You know, tab A into slot B."
Grinning, Malcolm replied, "Well, if I get stuck I'm sure you can give me pointers."

Malcolm grabbed up the lube from the bedside table and Guy spread his legs wide, exposing
himself. Malcolm prepared his lover thoroughly, encouraged by the moans Guy was making.
By the time Guy was ready, Malcolm was so hard it almost hurt. Guy's eyes were closed and
Malcolm said, "Open your eyes for me, Guy, I want to see."

Guy opened his eyes and they stared at each other. Guy smiled. "I want to watch you, too.

I want to see how much you enjoy fucking me into the mattress."

Malcolm didn't say anything. He intended to do just that, but he thought of it more as

showing Guy just how much he loved him.

"I know, Mal," Guy said softly. "Show me."
"You know me so well," Malcolm murmured.
"Better than anyone else. And I should have known better."
"I should have known better, too, Guy, I should have trusted you. But that's behind us

now. This is a celebration, remember?"

"Yep. Go on, celebrate!"
Malcolm did. He pushed slowly but steadily inside Guy until he was fully seated. He felt

fantastic, that he belonged. Guy nodded he was ready and Malcolm began thrusting in and
out, building up his pace. Guy held Malcolm's gaze, but his hands were bunching up the
sheets as he gripped the bedding tighter and tighter.

Malcolm leaned over Guy, wanting to kiss him, and doing so changed the angle of his

penetration.

Guy gasped and Malcolm knew he'd found his lover's prostate. He captured Guy's mouth

and Guy sighed into the kiss, his hands releasing the sheets to grasp Malcolm and hold him
close. After a few moments, Guy broke the kiss, gasping, "Mal, oh God, Mal. More, more."

***

Laughing, Malcolm pulled slowly almost all of the way out before he thrust back in and

Guy moaned at the sliding heat inside him. Then he gasped as Malcolm reached around to
push Guy's hand away from his cock, grasping it and stroking it in time with his movements
as he ploughed into Guy's body.

Guy shivered, which seemed odd, he thought distractedly, as his body felt as if it was on

fire. Every nerve was tingling with heat and Malcolm's hand on his cock was burning with

every stroke. Guy could feel the perspiration popping out on his body to slither between them
and he could feel each drop as it moved ever so slowly across his skin.

Murmuring constantly now, Malcolm moved back and forth, Guy's cock sliding in and out

of Malcolm's hand in rhythm with Malcolm's thrusts inside him. Malcolm increased his
rhythm, pounding faster and deeper into Guy until his movement stuttered and he lost his
rhythm on Guy's cock. Though, as Malcolm struck Guy's prostate time after time, Guy was
almost too lost in sensation to notice.

"I'm so close, Guy, so close," Malcolm murmured, "Gonna come, gonna... fill... you... up!"

Malcolm shot deep inside Guy, his orgasm making his hand involuntarily tighten on Guy,
who jerked and climaxed all over Malcolm's hand and his own stomach. Malcolm collapsed
on top of Guy, gulping air into starved lungs.

Guy was flying, it was wonderful and he never wanted to return to earth; then he heard a

voice murmuring close by. He couldn't make out the words at first, but he knew that voice. It
didn't matter what Malcolm was saying, he knew what Malcolm meant because he felt
exactly the same way himself.

"How's that for a celebrazione?" Malcolm asked, tightening his arms around Guy.
Guy grinned. "Good for the first one. Didn't we have three reasons to celebrate?"

# # #

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