Looking back now, I wish I hadn't taken Day 6 so much for granted. It was a dull day, up until when Freddie came back and recharged the atmosphere. But about seventy-five percent of it was peaceful, quiet, and slow. Aside of my developing cold, I had a fairly easy time. I should have made the most of it, cherished it for its rare delicacy.

Because it also marked a turning point, in that after Day 6, I no longer enjoyed such smooth, tranquil days. Reality came in for a crash landing from Day 7 onward. So far, there had been no life-changing episodes; I had stayed for the most part in the background, being someone Freddie came home to after a wild time in the outside world, like another of his cats, happy to see him and have him absently scratch behind my ears. Even after Freddie returned last night to make sure we were still on good terms (for that's the only reason I can fathom he came back so early), he slipped back out for whatever naughty joy he loved reveling in.

But this disconnect between me and his whole world could not go on forever. I had been edging around the hippopotamus pen for nearly a week, nimbly avoiding any possible major effects of this experience.

And then Freddie sneaked up from behind and pushed me in.

But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself here. One thing at a time.

The next morning, my seventh day in Freddie-land, I woke up with exactly what I feared I would: laryngitis. To give you some idea of what that did to my voice, I encourage you to look up any given clip of Brenda Vaccaro in the 60's or 70's. My voice, though low enough by itself, dropped almost half an octave and rasped at odd places. I couldn't sing if my life depended on it.

Still, I smiled. The boys would never allow me like this. Freddie had no choice but to let it go now.

I took my smart phone into the bathroom with me for a little music while I cleaned myself up. All this talk about jazz had me in a Vince Guaraldi sort of mood; I listened to some good old "Linus and Lucy" while I scrubbed myself down. Yes, it was careless, but I figured at this point Freddie already knew the "Magic Mirror" existed, and he was asleep anyway, so he wouldn't mind. My, the ground I'd covered in only a week.

As I did, I wondered if I should tell Freddie of my recurring dream. In the latest version, not much had changed from the previous; the cords fell from my hands at Freddie's touch, and he started pulling me forward, further into the dark mauve fog. And that was all. But it was becoming more and more unsettling. Something huge and terrible just lay lurking beyond, and my dream-self was a breath away from coming face-to-face with it. It frightened me, and I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell Freddie.

Hey, wait a minute. I'm the psychologist here. He's supposed to tell me HIS dreams, not vice versa. What does he care about my feelings? Let's keep in touch with reality, shall we?

I had sense enough to take clothes in with me this time. I dressed and ran a comb through my hair. Just before I stepped out, however, I checked myself. It was morning. And about every other morning I'd been here, Freddie had pulled some kind of unexpected stunt. Tickling my feet, dragging me physically out of bed, making stupid comments about the "best time last night." Chances were, I was due for another surprise.

"Nope," I croaked aloud. "Not this time, old boy. I'm ready, yes I'm ready, for you."

So I slowly opened up and peeked both ways before crossing the hall. Freddie was stirring in his room; I heard him moan gently through his cracked door. I was safe for now. I tiptoed out.

"Morning, dear," he called in a creamy, drowsy voice that I immediately loved.

"Hi," I tried to call back.

"You ready for another fabulous day?"

"Absolutely," I replied, and foolishly stayed standing there listening.

"Mm. Good," he answered. He rustled around in bed, and stretched. "Mmmm-mm. Oh, by the way, do me a favor please and turn that camera off?"

'What camera?"

"Didn't you see it, darling?"

"See what?"

"The camera I had rigged up in the loo."

My spine prickled. "What?"

"Saw everything," he said. With a satisfied sigh, he added, "Very nice."

"WHAT?" I ran back into the bathroom, tripping over my own feet I turned heel so fast. Frantically I knocked around, looking for something, anything that remotely resembled a lens. I checked the shampoo bottle, the shower head, behind the toilet. And then I saw a flash and a click. I whirled.

Freddie was standing there without a shirt, his hair wild, pants unbuttoned. He was a mess. And he had an Instamatic Polaroid camera in his hands.

"Looking for this?" he said quietly.

And then, his uncontrollable laughter.

My face flushed crimson. I covered my eyes. He got me again.

"You actually bought that! OH!" He gasped. "Oh, it hurts! Ah-hahahaha!"

I started laughing too. "Why you- you-"

"Dog?" he suggested.

"Oh, you- YOU- YOU LITTLE SHIT!" I shouted, and doubled over.

Hearing me swear set him off all over again. "Darling, please! Remember the children!"

I shook my head, completely mortified but laughing anyway. "I hate you, I hate you so much right now I can't even tell you," I rasped between giggles.

"Yeah, yeah, just say cheese," he said, snapping another photo, which the camera at once spit out.

"All right, that does it," I announced, and turned on my own phone's camera. "Wait till your folks back home see you like THIS!" Before he could react I had his unkempt image saved to the memory card.

Now Freddie was caught off guard. "Huh? What?"

"That's right, two can play this game!"

"The Magic Mirror! Did you just snap me?"

"You better believe it!" I laughed evilly. I tapped my finger. "Just did it again. Make that weird face you were making before, that was priceless."

"All right, that's enough, that's enough, we'll carry on this battle a little later," he waved his hand. He picked up his second picture, which was just now coming into focus. He grinned. "You're red as a cherry, my dear."

"Wild or maraschino?"

"Details," he scoffed. "Come here and see."

I did, and cringed. In that little Polaroid square, I looked ready to explode. My face, bland without lipstick or mascara, was indeed three shades too pink. "God, what a fright I look."

Freddie put an arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. When I looked up at him to ask what that was for, he shrugged playfully. "I can't help it, darling, you're driving me crazy, and that new sexy voice of yours doesn't help an ounce."

"Sexy? I sound like a truck driver."

"A female truck driver in fishnets and tight little shorts, to be exact. Bra optional."

Thanks, Freddie, for that virtuous visual. "Uh-huh. Speaking of my voice, I think I'm not going to be able to-"

"Oh, no, not again. I'm in no mood for negativity! Think positive, darling. As your daily favor to me, let's keep the no's down to a minimum. Just try it on for size today, hm?"

"But I'm just trying to tell you that I can't-"

Freddie laid his finger against my lips. "Ah, ah, ah. Positive. You're nervous, maybe, but don't be, they'll love it once you give it your, um, your special touch!"

I gave up trying to talk about it. Freddie was not only amorous, but stubbornly pushy, in the mornings. Something else for NFO list.

He looked back at the photo, then at me. "Ah. Such a pretty young thing you are."

I rolled my eyes and blew a raspberry.

He snickered. "And so gracious, too. Now let's have a look at this little thing." He snatched at the Android but I moved my hand before he could grab it.

"Aw, Eve, come on, let me see it," he wheedled. "I heard the music this morning and it's so intriguing. So it takes pictures too? It could really be magic then! What else can it do? Oh, I'm just burning with questions about it."

I pressed the power button and coughed. "I don't think you're ready for this yet."

Freddie's eyes turned cold. "So I can't see your picture of me even though I showed you mine of you?"

I held out my hands in supplication. "Now, Freddie-"

The next thing I knew, both my hands were empty and Freddie had danced halfway down the stairs, well beyond my reach. "It's all right, dear, I didn't think you meant that. Now, how do I make it come alive?"

"You figure it out, smart guy," I rasped. "Here's a hint: the button's on the bottom."

"Oh? Okay, let's see here, um... Ah! There it is. That big one there?" Freddie pushed the button. The lock screen lit up his face, and his jaw dropped in awe.

"Penguins," he said. "You like penguins, I gather?"

"I do," I winked. "I love anything in a tuxedo."

"I'll keep that in mind," he purred. "So, um... now what do I do?"

"Enter the password."

"But I don't know the password." Freddie looked at me expectantly. When I didn't give him an inch, he said, "So what is it?"

"Now why would I tell you?"

"Because you're an angel and you don't keep secrets from me...?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Which part?"

"Both!" I grinned. "Like I said, I don't think you're quite ready for that yet. Mind handing it back, please?"

Freddie huffed, but conceded. "Might as well, I suppose, before the same thing happens as last t-"

"Same thing?" I frowned. "What?"

"Nothing, I was, um, thinking of something else." As if the thing was made of blown glass, Freddie laid my smart phone gingerly back onto my hand. "Just don't go flaunting that picture of me yet, all right? I at least want to see first what everyone else will later."

"Deal- though I dare say you're quite a picture all your own right now," I remarked.

Freddie shot me a sidelong smirk. "This one's just for you to see."

Liar, I said to myself. Aloud I said, "What a gift!"

"Of course," he took a suggestive step closer, "there's plenty more you haven't seen-"

"And I'd love to keep it that way for now," I said quickly. "It's ten till nine right now, so maybe you should-"

"Yes, of course, I'll do that," Freddie said, but a naughty smile curved about the corners of his mouth as he turned his back.

"What's that look for?"

"'For now,' eh?" he replied. "Encouraging."

"Oh, shut up." I shook my head weakly. "God. Do you do this to everyone you're with?"

"No. Don't you feel lucky?"

"Then why me?"

"Really, darling? Must I explain it to you?"

"If you don't mind."

"Simple. You need it."

"What?!"

"I knew from the moment I met you, you need it. You still do, and a lot of it at that. But we're definitely making progress. Now darling, I don't want to waste any more time, so I'll be right back-"

He closed his door behind him. Need it? I need nothing! I'm perfectly fine! He's the one what needs help! So there!

I almost marched into my room when I remembered Freddie had the hair dryer. Like a penitent child, I forced myself back to his door and knocked.

"Freddie, may I please borrow the hair dryer," I mumbled.

He chirped back, "Sorry, darling, that was far too polite, try again."

Again! Since when did I need this? I sighed loudly, but before I could repeat myself, the door clicked open and his arm appeared in the crack, hand clenching the dryer.

"Thank you, Your Highness," I said dryly, taking the tool and setting it on the floor. As if to further prove my point, I took hold of his hand and kissed it like it was the hand of royalty. I tried letting go, but he wouldn't. Freddie held on tight.Maybe I'd given him the wrong idea again. When I felt him slowly trying to pull me in, my worries were confirmed.

I still held my Android. Quietly, I searched my sound files for the infamous angry warning beep, then put it as close to where I figured his ear was. Volume went up full blast.

In a robotic, deep voice (which was not hard to do at present) I stated, "Five Seconds to Self Destruct." And played the sound.

It startled him all right, enough for me to slip out of his grasp. But he wasn't angry; if anything, Freddie only cried, "That's what I get for being nice to you?"

I smiled. "What can I say? You needed that."

"Good Lord," he sighed. "We'll be the death of each other, I swear."

I dashed back to my room and dried my hair, and applied some much needed makeup. But the entire time I spent waiting on Freddie, my face remained a fine shade of cherry, and the stupidest, happiest smile was on my face. He makes me so glad to - I don't know. Glad to be alive, I suppose. That's just his natural affect, though. Just his charisma. It's a gift; no one's certainly ever made me feel like that before.

It was a crazy kind of morning already. But the weird and the wonderful had only just begun. Only time would tell if I could survive the rest of the day and come out in one piece.