Date: Sun, 6 Jan 2008 17:18:17 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Adventures In Nature 08 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % "Adventures In Nature" 08 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Well?" "Well what?" Julian asks. Lying across the width of the bed, one arm stretches above his head, to accomodate Darryl's left wrist. Standing there, Darryl ponders their dilemma, arms at his sides, as he bawls Julian out, "I can't believe you. Here we are, chained together like two common criminals and..." Switching in midflight, Julian interjects, "He was right, you know?" "Who?" "Riley, idiot!" "About what?" Darryl questions, wondering what part of the discussion. "Oh, I'd say just about everything," Julian replies, nonchalantly. Next thing y'know he's screaming in pain as Darryl hauls him off the bed, his ass hitting the shag-carpeted floor. It was almost like revenge, as like Darryl's own words described, Julian `taking matters easy'! "Oh shit!" Darryl exclaims as he's yanked off his feet, falling right on his face, his bod running lengthwise across Julian's bod. Whimsically, Julian says, "Um, when I'm in the mood it's like heaven, but right now your pubes are kind of smothering me?" his voice muffled by a flabby cock and set of smooth balls, breaking his breathing pattern. Doing a pushup Darryl looks underneath himself, Julian's finger in his mouth, retracting it as he observes, "I think I ate one of your hairs!" Rolling back on his knees, then to his ass, by learned experience, careful not to tug at his left arm, Darryl seriously says, "You know, we have a real problem here and you're treating this..." he takes a deep breath, "treating this like it's nothing! I mean, didn't you hear Riley?" "Sure. I was with you the whole time. How could I not have?" Julian replies, sort of upbeat. "Like, what's going to happen when I don't show up for duty?" Then, an index finger pressed against the center of Julian's brown-haired pecs, pounded lightly, dead center, as Darryl continues, "More, what's going to happen when `you' don't show up at school this morning?" Of course Julian, who picked up on every detail rendered by Riley, states, "Um, did you miss the part about the botulism?" "No. So? What's that supposed to mean?" "What it means is, Riley's got our asses covered, when we don't show up for work." Darryl, thinking he's clever, tells, "Only one flaw with that." "Oh? What's that?" Julian questions, as Darryl's palm still rests on his chest. "I'm not calling out! That will make them wonder." With a smile of confidence, he states, going back to his index finger pressing the point, "Yup. When I don't show up, they are sure to send a squad car out to check up on me!" "You think so, do you?" Julian said, all along thinking of the possibilites of Riley being in `that' squad car and reporting back `his story' or perhaps Riley passing on the message, `Darryl too sick to even pick up the phone', relaying his absenteeism to their superiors. "Yep and when `you' don't show up, I'm sure you'll be missed," Darryl states. "You're so sure of yourself, huh?" Julian said, looking upon the face which gloated with confidence. "You bet." "Well then," Julian says, thoughts of the possibilty it could be a very long morning, waiting it out, til they are both missed, says, "I guess there's nothing for us to do, except carry on... we might as well get some breakfast in us!" "First I need a shower," Darryl says, his right hand pressing on the floor to get up, already conscious of the metal cuff restraining his left wrist, the pull to Julian's cuffed wrist. "Right. We both kind of reek of mansex." It was awkward, but they both made it to their feet, this time Darryl `helping', instead of `heaving'. When standing, their bods came within inches of each other, Darryl taking the upper hand, leading them towards the jon. Entering, Julian's crotch decides he needs some morning relief. "Owww, Julian!" Darryl calls out, wincing in pain. "I gotta take a leak," Julian informs him, after the fact, his left hand fingers coiled around the chain part of the cuffs, halting their procession, as if a dog on a lead. "Did you think of telling me first instead of almost ripping my hand from my body?" Darryl complains. "Had to pee too badly," Julian offered as an apology. With his right hand already around his barrel he let go of the hot stream. Bound together, all Darryl could do is stand there. "Thirsty?" Julian asks, catching Darryl glancing at him. "You know, you're so gross?" Reliving the past, Julian tells him, "Y'know, one time in college it was this guy's birthday. We all got him to go to the shower and pissed on him to wish him good luck!" Thinking it the funniest thing in the world, Julian let out a wailing cry of laughter, as if still that college fratboy from years before. Like tasting something bad Darryl showed it on his face as he said, "That's the grossest thing I've ever heard of! You guys are sick! C'mon," Darryl jerked the chain, "time's up." "Wait! I got a few last drops to....." Taking the helm, Darryl dragged Julian over to the shower stall, a few drops of tinkle, cast upon the carpet. % "Is this college regulation?" John asks. The sign, hitting anyone in the face upon entering the dorm jon, read, `Save water... shower together'. "Nah. Some wiseguy hung it up a coupla days ago," Kev replies. "However, being the conservative I am, I strongly suggest we not break the rule!" No different than last time, sign or no sign, the two found their way into an empty shower cubicle, John thinking over Kev's `conservative' remark. Sticking his head into their stall, drawing the plastic curtain to the side, Matt Drijver asks, "Hey, you guys need any... um, help?" Reaching up, taking the top of the gray curtain in hand Kev counteracts the pull, replying, "No, that's okay, Matt. I think we can handle it," cutting off Matt's stare-down of John. "Oh," Matt replies, with disappointment, one foot intruding, stepping over the tiled division, the plastic division clinging to his wet bod. "Okay... later." As Kev turns his attention back to John, the water casting down between them, he simply asks, seeing the reaction on John's face, "What?" "Oh nothing. Not being a college guy I guess I'm not up on all the stuff that goes on in a dorm." "Like what?" Kev asks, wanting John's opinion of what was running through his head, regarding Matt's intrusion. "You know," he states his opinion based on the incident, "hot guys inviting themselves into a guy's private domain? I mean, if a guy isn't tied down to one particular person I suppose anything could happen!" "Um, like what are you driving at here, John?" "Oh, it's not like I'm accusing you of anything Kev. I'm just going on the discussion my high school buds and I had about college life." "Oh?" Kev replied, taking the soap up in his hands, lathering it up on his pecs til it drips suds. "And how would that go?" "Got enough there?" John asks, Kev passing the soap to him. "Well, my friends... um, not really, really close, but `in the circle', found out a lot of guys do kinky stuff." Now, this really interested Kev, being a student at WRCC for two years. He's heard of some weird things going on at guy-parties when the consumption of too much beer has been known to cloud reality. Listening to John was like comparing notes. "And so?" "Oh, stuff," John left it, adding as he turned his back to Kev, "uh, while you're at it could you do my back?" With a smirk across his face, Kev's right hand caressed the bar of soap as his left hand rode John's torso. Kev stood there still pondering over the buildup John gave him, only to let him down. "Ah, anytime you want to soap me up, Kev. It's not like we're `not' on a schedule here. Like, you know how Tom can get riled up, if anybody's late and..." Reaching around John, Kev swiped the soap quickly across the high school senior's chest, than pinned both arms behind his back. "What tha?" John said, looking to an arm controlling each of his limbs, pressing back, forcing the front of his bod to forge forward. "I'll let you go, when you decide to talk." "Talk?" "Yeah," Kev replied, grinning, meaning his position of John in the bondage of his arms as a joke, yet to coerce him into telling about his high school buds. "You think you're funny huh?" "I'm not trying to be funny," Kev replied, a grin on his face, as he fibbed. However, John, taking every effort to earn some bucks before heading off to college, retained a more meticulous attitude towards responsibility. He wasn't amused. "Let me go, Kev. Tom'll..." "Not until you tell me," Kev pursued, this time giggling. Figuring two can play this game, John steadies himself, with pressure on his left foot, bending his right leg, stretching it back, as he lifts his heel. "Akkkkkkk... oooooh shit!" Kev screamed out, releasing John's arms right away to comfort his own privates. Drawing back the curtain, even though soap still glossed over his pecs, dripping down his stomach, he took exit, turning his head, jerking his chin down, to follow Kev on his knees, clutching his jewels, moaning in pain. "Y'know, responsibility isn't a game to be toyed with. Maybe you don't take it serious, but I do. I heard Tom busting Leo's chops over being just two minutes late. That's `not' going to happen to me. Why don't think about growing up, Kev?" Leaving the curtain parted more than halfway, John proceeded to stand in front of one of the sinks, splashing water to his chest, over his shoulders. It's then he realised his towel was hanging on a hook, right outside the shower. Swiping one of the them, drying off, he spotted Kev sitting on the floor, one hand under his balls, holding them up. Before departing, he commented, "I didn't hit you that hard!" Giving no time for Kev to reply, John exited the door, too pissed to give a damn if anyone noticed his nude bod parading down the hallway. "Anything I can be of help with?" In the three minutes it took for Kev to realize what happened, letting John's words sink in, he began to recover from John's heel-lift. Falling back against the wall on his ass, his legs spread out in front of him. He reached up, turning the hot down a little, allowing the shower to turn cool. With his balls lying on the blue tiled floor, it felt soothing, as the cool water played in making the pangs go away. "Um, nah. I think I'll survive, but thanks anyway, Matt." "You and John have a fight?" Matt probes, as he fully steps into the shower cubicle, moving the plastic curtain aside, then resealing the entrance. Moving his shoulders forward, Kev says, "I don't know if you would call it a fight. I mean I was just trying to...." Looking up, Kev lost his concentration, more keyed into the fact of Matt standing there, hands on his hips, Matt's eyes staring beyond his face, licking his lips as if parched, the dark-haired pubes silhouetted against his loose balls, cock semi-soft. "I'm curious, Matt?" "About?" Matt replies, abrupting switching his attention from the water pounding the tiles between Kev's thighs. "I'm curious to know where you were between the time you stuck your head in our cube and now?" Scratching his head, Matt lifted his shoulders and dropped them in a matter of seconds, telling him, "Took my shower. Why?" "But we took the last stall." "Yeah, well you know, we're supposed to be saving water by showering together, so.. um," Matt fished for words. Wise to Matt evading the truth Kev figured he would help the swim-jock get to the point. "So, who did you give head to this time?" Uttering a quick laugh, Matt confesses, "Um, Adam Bentley. Know him?" Did Kev ever. Adam wasn't easy to forget, especially after waking up, hearing Kirk's friend addressing him and John as `faggots', `homos' and other not-nice terms. "I know Adam. So, did he invite you or did you offer?" By now, both college dorm-boys turned each other on, Matt taking a few paces forward, so Kev could handle his sloping cock. One-handedly, he softly massaged Matt's cock, as his other hand played with his own. "Well, I suppose I instigated it," Matt stopped for a split second to gaze at Kev's cock firming up. "But then Adam said he could stand to have his balls emptied." "So, did he have gallons to rid himself of?" Kev said, the changeover from pain to pleasure occuring, as he stroked. "I wouldn't know," Matt replied, his shaft swollen to it's full eight inches. "You must have sensed something, when he let lose the floodgates?" "It was hard to tell. When he came he took hold of my head and jambed his cock down my throat. All I could taste is the last few drop of his manjuice." By now, the visual, plus gist of the conversation tended to override the post-conversation with each other. Like on drugs or too many beers, Kev was slowly losing the battle to resist. "So, if you haven't emptied your balls yet, you want me to... um, help you out?" Kev would love that, but at the same time, he felt for Matt, his bulging balls looking filled to the brim. But not only that, Kev got this sensation going in his mouth, like he wanted to taste something sweet and salty. "Sure," Kev gave in, "as long as I can help you out with yours?" Matt suggests, with a smile, "We could go to my room." "What about Tony?" Kev inquired about Matt's roomie, Tony Gagliardi. "He left about an hour ago. He said he wanted to get a jump on swimming practice." "Okay. Cool." When Kev went to get up he slipped, Matt catching him by his arm. "Thanks man," Kev awarded him the credit for keeping him from cracking his skull against the wall. Waists toweled, the two left the jon, Kev bringing up the rear, til they reached nearly the end of the hallway. From around his head, Matt took off the chain with his key. With attention tied up in their thoughts, the urge to unload, they hadn't taken notice of the guy splitting from Kev's room. The environmental green jacket, of Barr's & Bridges employees, would have been obvious to someone paying attention. However, it wasn't tough for John to make out the profile of the guy, entering Matt's room. % "What's today?" Denis asked, staring out the window, this time facing the east, barely seeing the town through the trees. "Monday, May 21 and it's a beautiful day out there," Jack Collier replied, as he got up from his chair, the latest issue of `Out' magazine in his hand. "Shit! I've gotta get outta here. I need to get ready for exams. When is graduation?" Denis shot out with, his mouth running along with his brain, spurting out questions Jack couldn't answer, except one. "Sorry, but you're not physically or...." "Go ahead and fuckin' say it," Denis seemed to lose control, but not fully, since the medicines helped keep him from fully acting out. "They think I'm crazy... insane!" "They don't think that of you Denis," Jack replied in a soothing voice, his hand going to the blond teens shoulder, rubbing it, laying his hand with the magazine, on the side of the bed. "Then why are `you' here? Where's Darryl? He said he would be here for me in the morning. It is morning isn't it?" Seeing where Denis could be out of whack with his perception of whether the sun was rising or setting, he told him, "It's morning. The sun is about ready to peak over the trees." "Oh," Denis said solemnly, as if it was his fault for not knowing. With haste Jack made excuse, "It's the medicine. You know you are on some heavy drugs, don't you?" "Drugs?" Crystal meth crossed Denis' mind. "Antidepressants, plus something to make you sleep better at night. Most likely the reason you woke up, feeling disoriented," Jack explained, as simple as he could. "Where's Darryl?" "Maybe he got detained." Picking it up, then loosening his grip on the `Out' magazine, he used both hands to press Denis' shoulder back into the mattress, his head settling in the pillow. Jack spread the light blanket over the teens arms. "Warm enough?" "Yeah, I..." Denis yawned, "I don't know why I'm tired. I just woke up." "It's the medicine," Jack informed him, picking up the magazine again, reporting back to the chair he sat in all night long. Denis watched as Jack sat in the chair, having to only get up again, when the door opened. "Darryl?" Denis questions, viewing the frame of the man entering, thoroughly dissapointed when he sees it's not Darryl. "Denis, this is Luke DeMott. Luke will be sitting in for me until somebody else relieves him." After the introductions, Jack squeezes Luke's tricep, saying, "See ya later, babe," before taking his leave. "How you doing?" Luke inquires of Denis, standing to the side of the bed. With a gloomy attitude hanging over him as if a chip on his shoulder, Denis says, "Life sucks, so what else is new?" "It's going to be a hot one out there today, but at least we'll be having the sun shining!" Luke tried brightening up Denis' world. Staring at Luke, Denis asks, "How come you're not wearing one of them blue things?" Looking down upon himself, Luke pulls his orange polo shirt away from his chest, asking, "What? This?" meaning his street clothes. "Yeah. Aren't you nurses supposed to be wearing hospital clothes, unless you're some kind of doctor?" Taking more of an interest Denis props himself up on his elbows, as he lay there. "I'm not a nurse, nor a doctor. I'm what you would call a therapist," Luke filled him in. "Oh okay. Like Dr. Roberts told me. I guess I'm in that part of the hospital where you keep all the whackos!" It made Luke smile, as he further educated Denis, "I'm part of a multidisciplinary team. What you might call, a liason between onsite psychiatric medical directors and the patient. Throughout your visit with us, you will be exposed to group psychotherapy, individual and family counseling, therapeutic activities and medication management." "When am I getting out of here?" Is all which concerned Denis, still fresh in his mind. Not so much the senior prom, but the reality of having to want to be in the numbers at graduation. "That depends on you," Luke informed him. "I'm ready to go. How about giving my dads a call and having them come get me?" Denis asked, coolly. >From Luke's perspective, it was the first time he noticed the teen smiling, since he entered the room. He hated like hell to burst Denis' balloon. "Things aren't that easy," Luke said, trying to sound as upbeat as he could, knowing the reality would set Denis back a peg or two. Nor was he ready to inform Denis of the reason for someone consistently being in his room, around the clock, his job as part of a `suicide watch'. "Why not? All you have to do is have one of my dads sign some paper and I can get out of here, right?" Rather than provoke, Luke spotted something on the bed which he felt could create a diversion. "This your's?" He asked, picking up the `Out' magazine, flipping through some pages. "Um, no. I think it's Jack's." "Wow! They sure have some hot guys in here!" "I had the feeling," Denis said outright. "What's that?" Luke asks, shutting the almost naked, hot stud back into his magazine world. "You and Jack. What are you, a couple or something?" Denis spelled right out. "We're friends, okay? And if what you're driving at is... yeah, I'm gay," Luke said, with a smile. "How did you know I was?" Denis said, crisscrossing his arms over his chest. "Usually Jack doesn't bring work home, but... well, to tell you the truth, I owed Jack a very big favor, so he was cashing in his chips." "I don't get it, what did he do for you?" Denis probed deeper. "Nothing much," Luke acted casual. "Did you hear about the accident up on Mountain Glen Road last year, about last October?" "Nope," Denis replied. "But I kind of have an idea. Lots of people keep missing the bend in the road, when it curves. Fuck, a lot of cars and trucks keep going straight." "Yeah, well I was one of those idiots who didn't adhere to the fifteen mile per hour speed limit," Luke admitted the wrongdoing, but then went on to make excuse, "but also it was a real dark night and it had started to drizzle." Taking a liking to Luke, Denis felt he should add some defending statement saying, "Prolly not your fault." "Oh? How's that go?" Luke questioned the teen, laying his crossed arms along the edge of his hard pecs, tucking his hands into his pits. "Well, what people don't realize is the hill has a slight drop to it," Denis moves his hand down, like a plane taking a deep dive out of the sky, "You don't really know you're into it, until you're there. If they didn't take away all the cars and trucks going over the side, the bottom of the cliff would look like a junkyard." "Hm, is that so?" "Right. One of my high school buds lost his mom and dad to that hill." "Shame," Luke said, real empathy added, which Denis picked up on. "I think Jack's pretty lucky to have you as a boyfriend." Luke smiled, taking one hand and planing back his dirty blond hair, as he squared things with Denis, "We're `boys' and `friends'," he diagrammed, using one of his index fingers, parallel to the other, separating the two digits, when he said, "but not boyfriends." "Oh, sorry," Denis said, being overbearingly tough on himself, his whole demeanor dropping as he condemned himself, "I can be such a jerk." Luke felt real bad for Denis, seeing his upbeat attitude take a nosedive. "Things are going to get better, Denis. You need help and we're going to be here for you." By now, Luke's hand held Denis', startling the eighteen year old, making him realize people other than family actually cared about whether he lived or died. Looking up, he confided in Luke, "Sometimes I feel like life is a ton of bricks, and I go down with it. I mean, my dads are always saying stuff like there's a reason for bad things happening, but right now I don't see much good happening." Thinking the same, things don't happen without a reason, Luke brought up, "I didn't finish the rest of my story." "What story?" Denis asked, having forgotten what they talked about five minutes beforehand. "The accident? Up on Mountain Glen Road?" "Oh yeah. What happened?" Denis snapped out of his current funk. "Well, I didn't join the souls at the bottom of the gully," Luke summed up in a nutshell. "You didn't go over?" Denis not getting the connection of Luke standing there, chattting with him and not in his grave. "Almost and probably would have, if Jack hadn't come along." "Oh?" Denis showed geniune interest. Neither realized Luke's hands still soothing the blond fibers of Denis' forearms. "My car teeter-tottered on the edge of the railing. Later the police said the railing, which held my car from taking the dive, was ready to give." "Shit! Really?" "Really," Luke said, flashing the white, shiny smile. "They said if Jack hadn't showed, I would have been a goner." "Like, how did he do it?" "Oh, by demolishing the back window of my car. Jack's a strong guy, you know? He works out." With inside information, Denis tells, "Right. I think it was Jack, who said something about a gym in his basement." "Yes, he has a nice set up." It's then, the two realized Luke's attachment, withdrawing his hands from the teen's arms. "It's okay, Dr. DeMott. You can leave them there. I kind of like it. It makes me feel calm," Denis said, with a few breaths of air. Smiling, again flashing those pearly whites, Luke told him, "I'm not a doctor and you can call me `Luke'." "If you're not a doctor, then what are you?" Luke could have spent several seconds in laughter, the cute way Denis said it, but seeing him totally serious, he sensed he should keep the same composure. "My official title is a `behavioral health counselor'". "So, you're not a doctor?" "No, but I confer with the doctors, since I will be spending nearly all my time with you, on a one to one basis," Luke informed him, even though it repeated what he said fifteen minutes ago. "That's cool," Denis said, then hung his head, his chin almost touching his smooth chest where the hospital gown took a dip at the neck. "What is it, Denis?" Luke asked. "I'm a totally fuckin' loser," Denis reported back, a sniff detected, then a finger blotting his eye. After pulling a box of tissues, from seemingly out of thin air, Luke placed it to Denis' side, tearing one loose from the carboard box, offering it to the eighteen year old. After wiping both eyes, Denis looks up and says, "I guess you think I'm a woos, huh?" "I've counseled guys older than you, who have cried enough to empty ten tissues boxes!" "But guys my age and older aren't supposed to cry," Denis revealed, in his own teen logic. "Call it a myth, or whatever you'd like, but the truth is many adults cry. It seems to make people feel better after they have let lose their emotional response to feeling down." After saying it, Denis responded by lowering half his body, folding himself in half, placing his arms across his lap, leaning forwards and crying out his baby blues. "Heeeeey! What's up pisan?" First peeking in, then abruptly annoucing himself, Tony Gagliardi burst into the room. With an "Oh shit!" only picked up by Luke, Denis composed himself as much as his mental faculties would allow him. "Hey baby... what'samatter?" Between the two, Tony flung his bod, arms embracing Denis, almost scooping him out of bed, like a steamshovel. `Wow!' Luke thought to himself, feeling something for the Italian swimmer he didn't experience at all with Denis. As if still in med school, he studied the anatomy, shielding himself from Denis, taking notice of the powerful delts and traps, tearing at Tony's tank top shirt for dominance, as if in a tug o'war. His grip on Denis made his muscles contract, then relax, then tense up again when he hugged Denis firmly, when conveying his sympathies. Suddenly, Luke realized the stalk sticking up, fighting to be outed, as he sat there, moving the `Out' magazine to hide his conpicuous tent. He then heard his name mention, Denis saying, "Luke DeMott." "Tony Gagliardi here. Nice to meet you doc!" Tony said, his powerful hand strangling Luke's. "Ooops!" Tony said, when the magazine slipped off Luke's lap. Instead of the magazine, Tony's hand gripped Luke's inner thigh, quickly retracting his hand, with the apology, "Sorry `bout that, doc." Luke noticed Tony's eyes, wide as saucers, when he glanced at his pubic region. To help them both out, Denis corrected, "Luke isn't a doctor, Tony." "Oh no?" Tony questioned, staring at Luke, breaking off to pick up the `Out' off of the floor. It also gave Tony the excuse to get his tush off the bed, resting between his fellow swim-jock and the med professional. "Here ya go," Tony says, slapping the magazine down on Luke's lap, sending a message. For Luke, the message continued, as the `Out' magazine punched at his semi-softness, carrying electric waves throughout his pubes and beyond. "Thanks," Luke courteously said, but also added a smile, Tony making a connection as if something more. "Tony and I are on the swim team," Denis offered. "Is that so? Is that where you get those bulging biceps?" Pulling up on his sleeve, Tony says, "Probably. I don't work out or anything, so I guess the muscle's gotta come from someplace." "In the genes, perhaps?" Luke asks, smiling. "Hey," Tony retorts, "you're the doc. You should know!" Denis was aware of the connection the two seemed to be having, the playing back and forth with suggestive wording, waiting for the next chance to interject some conversation. "How did we do in the competition with Greenville?" Denis found his in. "Swam rings around them. They were stiff competition, but we creamed them real good!" "I guess you had a victory party. Too bad I couldn't make it." Tony could see the downer coming over Denis, so tried cheering him by saying, "Hey, Denis-babe, don't let it get to you. Next year you'll be with the rest of the team, hitting the water with the rest of us. There will be plenty of victory parties to go to." Luke joined in, saying, "See, how much you have to look forward to Denis?" "I guess." "Look bro... I gotta go," Tony announces, going in for another hug. "I'll see if I can get back to see you tomorrow, okay stud?" Taking the time to stand, Luke watched Denis hold onto Tony as if not wanting him to go, same manner in which Denis clutched him, when he had the chance. "Are you sure you have to go already, Tony?" Denis asked, with a plea in his voice. "I do, but it's a def I'll be back tomorrow, okay babes?" "Don't forget," Denis answered back as Tony steps out the door. In passing, Luke tells Tony, "Um, if you're interested I have some free time tomorrow?" "You trying to pick me up, doc?" Luke left Tony's namecalling, answering, "You bet your ass I am!" Adding a fake cough, Tony replies, "Well, yeah. I might free up some time too." Outside the room, time Luke should not have been spending, Tony quickly jots down his number on a piece of paper. % Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.