"Thwarted, were we?" Tiffany sneered, wiggling back toward town, a few steps ahead of Allen.

"Whadda ya mean?" He hurried to catch up.

"I saw your little fingers exploring under the table."

"Don't be daft." He knew this was a discussion he'd already lost.

"Can't resist every new bit of fluff that blows along, can you Allen?" She slowed to a halt in front of the hardware store, turning to face him.

"Ti, c'mon. I was just trying to make the girl comfortable, help her feel a little less nervous among strangers, that's all." He took out his keys and unlocked the door, pushing it open and waiting.

"I don't really mind, honey," she stated, sweeping past him into the store, "if you can make hay with Miss Preston, go for it. I've been thinking about a change anyway."

"Hey Ti, wait a sec!" He jumped after her, locking the door and feeling for her arm. "I wasn't trying to make any hay. And what do mean a change? You mean about us?"

"Yes Allen, about us. These little moments of grappling in your office, or the stock room have lost some of their luster." She wandered to the counter and set her purse down and leaned on her forearms, her bottom thrust provocatively back.

"Aw hey, Ti. We've had some great moments, haven't we? Nobody bothers us here," he waved his arm about, "and the luster isn't gone."

"No?" She rested her chin on her hands, swaying her hips slowly.

"Nah, it's as lustrous as ever." Allen moved behind her, filling one hand with her ample bottom while the other undid his belt.

"You really think so?" She pressed back into him.

"Absolutely baby."

"I'm not so sure." She straightened up suddenly causing Allen to lose his balance, and he fell forward, his face smacking into her plump bottom.

"Ommph, Jesus Ti—"

She stepped away, picking up her purse. "Why don't you put your nose to the grindstone with this young woman, instead, and make sure." She blew him a kiss and trotted slowly out of the store.

"Maybe I will!" He yelled after her. "Maybe I just bloody will." He pulled himself up, stepping on his belt, and tearing the belt loops out of his pants. "SHIT!"

*****

Melaine stepped out of the van and thanked Ellen for the drive home. The entire drive was dominated by the topic of Gavin/Galleria; Melaine finally joining the conspiracy with humorous enthusiasm. She stood in her driveway watching Ellen back out and steer across the street to her own house, then slowly made her way up the front door, unlocking it and letting herself inside.

"Milo?" No response. "Milo, you home?" She flipped on the living room light and then headed to the kitchen. "Mi-lo-o-o!" Suddenly it struck her. She'd forgotten all about him, caught up in the juicy gossip at the coffee shop. He was probably still at the funeral lot waiting for her. Returning to the living room, she turned off the light and went to the window.

Across the garden, she could see the light shining from Cal's bedroom window and now regretted going to the coffee shop instead of meeting him as he'd suggested. Switching off the outdoor lights, she went out to the side garden and down the walkway to a point where she could see his window clearly.

Apparently he'd just arrived, and she watched him strip off his shirt and hang it on the doorknob, then bend down for a second, reappearing to hold up his pants and align them before hanging them in the closet. It was too much. To hell with Milo, she thought, setting her chin and stepping carefully onto the lawn then determinedly striding across to his back door.

*****

Jean cut the engine and stared out the windshield. Beside her, Ross was picking at the weather-stripping on the passenger window, both in a studious silence. On the sidewalk, an old man led a tiny, energetic dog past each lamppost, with a patience born from years of routine. The dog stopped at Jean's front tire, leg high, unceremoniously jerked away when the owner saw that the car was occupied. A small piece of the weather-stripping tore away, and Ross sneaked it down beside his seat, turning to look at Jean.

"Are you mad at me?"

She sighed and rested her head on the seat back. "No, just puzzled."

"Hell Jean, It's not like I made a play for another woman."

"But you weren't sure, were you? And it didn't stop you from ogling her- him—right in front of me."

"No, you're wrong. I knew it was him... I- it just- it was just a... you have to admit, he looked pretty damned spectacular."

"What did? Him, or the get up?"

"Wait a minute here, are you suggesting I was attracted to the man?" He snorted and glared out the window. "Jesus Christ." He fumed silently then turned to her, abruptly. "Come upstairs with me now, I'll prove who it is I'm attracted to."

"What about Esmerelda?"

"You were right before. If anyone knows about our little 'secret', she does. Seeing your car parked all around here at all hours hardly supports our sham of just being nodding acquaintances."

"So I finally get to see the inside of your hideaway."

"If there's any time left for a tour that is..." He jumped out of the car and ran around to open her door.