"Last time I checked," he sighed. This had been a very, very bad idea. He had no idea why he had given into the impulse to call her. Yes you do, a voice inside him chided. You missed the sound of her voice.

"Why?"

"Why am I Brady?" he responded.

Well, that was a question that definitely merited further discussion, but it wasn’t what she meant. "No, why are you calling me?" she asked in disbelief. If someone had bet her a million dollars that Brady would call her on the phone, she would have gladly relieved that fool of their money because she would never have believed such a thing possible.

"I have a phone. You have a phone. Made sense to not let them go to waste." Mimi could almost picture the expression that she was sure Brady was wearing right then, that sardonic, mocking one.

"Who says mine is going to waste?" she asked in outrage. Brady didn’t know – she could have a million guys calling her. She hated this arrogance of his, even if he was right.

"Oh yeah," Brady smiled. "I’ve heard yours and Belle’s conversations." Brady's voice took on a high pitched nasal tone as he said, "’Justin just can’t marry Britney. If he does, I’ll cry and cry and cry.’"

"For your information we have more important things to talk about than that," Mimi hissed back, her cheeks turning a bright red. It sounded a lot like a conversation she and Belle had last week. Brady hadn’t been eavesdropping, had he?

"Such as?" he prodded.

"You know, that is really none of your business." She grasped for something to attack him back with. "As if you're capable of having deep, meaningful conversations on the phone."

"As a matter of fact, I am," he responded.

"Puh-leaze," Mimi grimaced. "You’re about as deep as a tide pool."

To her surprise, Brady laughed as if her comment highly amused him. "Well, you finally said something I can’t argue with."

"Oh, now you’ve disappointed me," Mimi shot back.

"Well, you’d be the first woman to say that," he teased, the smile still hovering on his lips.

"You…you are such a jerk, do you know that?" she breathed. Of course he would hold over her head how experienced he was.

"Whoa, did I miss the checkered flag? When did the argument begin?" he said. He didn’t want to fight – he wanted to talk to her. "Do you have some sort of genetic disorder that makes you turn every conversation into an argument?"

"Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe I just don’t like you?" Mimi quickly retorted.

Brady paused, as if seriously mulling over this question and then pleasantly replied, "Nah. Everybody likes me. I’m charming."

Mimi let out a burst of laughter and Brady chuckled along with her. As her laughter subsided, there was a moment of silence, and Brady said, "You know, you don’t have to be so defensive with me. I’m actually trying to be nice here."

"Okay," she mumbled, feeling a bit chastened. He did seem like he was trying to be nice. Well, as nice as Brady was capable of being. "Maybe you’re right."

"What did you just say?" Brady asked in mock surprise.

"I said maybe you’re right," she repeated louder.

‘Thought so," he replied with satisfaction. "Hold on. I have to bask and glory in my total rightness for a moment."

"You’d better enjoy it," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That’s probably the first and last time you’ll hear me say it."

"So…" Brady said, settling onto his bed, putting one hand behind his head. "What are you wearing?"

Mimi had to suppress a giggle as she rolled over onto her back, twirling the phone cord with her fingers. "You are so bad."

"Wanna know what’s really scary? I can only get worse."

**************************************************

Shawn settled into the table at the Java Café. The rain continued to pour down in torrents a few feet away. Perhaps this was some sort of divine sign that he shouldn’t ever accompany Belle shopping again. He couldn’t remember another time in recent history where he’d been more embarrassed. Belle had him holding packages and bags in the middle of various women’s stores at Salem Place. When she seemed to be winding down, he offered to go and grab some mochas. Belle had allowed him to go, telling him she’d join him soon. He had practically run to the Java Café as quickly as possible. Never again, he vowed. I will never go shopping with her again.

"Hey, you actually got a table," a winded Belle said as she approached. She dropped the bags she’d been carrying onto the ground near the table. The café was packed to capacity as people were waiting for the rain to let up before heading back to their cars. She eased into her chair carefully, grateful for the opportunity to finally sit down.

"I had to kill a man to get it," Shawn intoned, raising one eyebrow as if to appear menacing.

"Well, it’s a really good table," Belle smiled. She looked down to see that some of the bags that Shawn had been carrying were getting wet from the rain accumulating on the ground. "Hey, pick those up and move them over here to this side," she commanded.

"Yes ma’am, Ms. Bossy," Shawn replied as he moved the bags to the opposite side of the table.

"I’m not bossy, I just know what you should be doing," she smiled and lifted the mocha to her mouth and took a quick sip. Who knew shopping with her boyfriend could be so much fun? She was combining the two things she loved best. Shopping and her boyfriend Shawn. Boyfriend. Belle let the word roll around in her head, trying it on, and awfully pleased at how well it fit her.

"There’s a problem here," Shawn said suddenly, looking at her with serious eyes.

"What?" Belle asked, faintly alarmed.

"You are too damn far away from me," he growled, and pulled her chair around the table until she was sitting right next to him.

"Better?" she smiled.

"Much," he replied, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his. He got in a few small kisses before Belle pushed him away, her gaze darting around the café. "Shawn, we’re in a very public and very crowded place."

"Didn’t seem to bother you the other day at school," he teased, running his fingers through her hair, wanting to kiss her again.

Belle glared at him. "That was different, and you know it."

Shawn sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You’re not a very compliant wife, you know that?"

"What, because we’re ‘married’ I’m supposed to attack you in public?" she asked. "You’re married to Mimi too. Does that mean she should make out with you whenever you want?"

"Sounds good to me." Shawn’s eyes sparkled with amusement as Belle got angrier and angrier.

"Forget it, Brady. You’re only kissing one girl," Belle said as she grabbed Shawn’s shirtfront and pulled him into a searing kiss. After a few minutes she pulled back as they both tried to get air back into their lungs. "I walked right into that one, didn’t I?" she asked with a tiny smile, not minding at all that Shawn had goaded her into the kiss.

"You make it too easy, Belle," Shawn smiled back, trying to will his heart rate to return to normal.

"Can I ask you a question?" Belle said, crossing her arms and resting her elbows on the table.

"Briefs," Shawn responded, taking a sip of his mocha.

"No, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask you," she replied, although the thought of Shawn in briefs was doing funny things to her stomach.

"Okay, Hanes briefs."

She sighed. "Can I ask you a question that doesn’t have anything to do with your underwear?"

"I don’t know. Can you?"

"I wanted to know what you were planning for our date on Friday," she said. "Did you have something in mind or were you going to try and be spontaneous again?" Belle had to shake her head at the memory of the last time Shawn had attempted spontaneity. It had not been pretty.

"I can be spontaneous," Shawn responded defensively. "In fact, I’m planning on being spontaneous tomorrow at around 2:30." Belle leaned over and smacked him on the shoulder. "You never take things seriously!" she said.

"Okay, how’s this for a spontaneous exclamation – Ow!"

"I’m not kidding. What do you want to do on Friday?" she questioned again.

"You?" Shawn asked hopefully.

"I have just two words for you Shawn. Nuh and uh," Belle retorted as she shook her head. Boys and their one-track minds. "I think it’s time for you to get back on the Monorail because you are obviously stuck in Fantasyland."

"Got that right," Shawn smiled. "Fantasyland is a fun place. You should come by sometime."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Belle said, rolling her eyes. "There isn’t anything else you’d like to do on Friday?"

"Well, there’s supposed to be this awesome boat show down at the harbor on Friday and Saturday, but you have to have tickets to go. I found out about it too late, and it was sold out," Shawn said sadly. "But it’s okay. I didn’t really want to go that much."

"Oh, so should I just return these tickets that I got?" Belle asked innocently, pulling two tickets for the boat show out of her purse and waving them at Shawn.

Shawn’s eyes widened. "What? No way!" He grabbed the tickets, reading them over, and then looked back up at Belle. Belle’s heart stopped for a moment at the look of pure adoration Shawn was giving her. Belle reached over, took the tickets and tucked them back into her purse.

"So do you love me or what?" she queried, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh baby, do I!" Shawn exclaimed as he jumped out of his chair, pulled Belle out of hers and began spinning her around the café. Before she knew what was happening, Shawn had carried her out into the rain, spinning her in circles until she was dizzy. When she didn’t think she could get any dizzier Shawn proved her wrong by putting her down and kissing her senseless.

**************************************************

Philip guided Apollo into the stables, finally getting them out of the rain. Chloe was suddenly weary. The events of that afternoon had left her mentally, emotionally and as she was discovering, physically drained. Her thighs and rear end felt like they were on fire. No one had told her that riding a horse could be so painful – especially riding one that was going at full gallop. She felt stiff with cold and ached from the pain. Philip jumped down off the saddle, and Chloe semi-turned, expecting him to help her down. He started walking away from her.

"Hey!" she called out after him as he disappeared around a corner.

Philip quickly reappeared carrying some blankets. "Yes Chloe, there’s hay everywhere. That’s why we call it the stables and not the guesthouse." His eyes twinkled at his joke.

"Very punny," Chloe responded, trying to keep the smile from appearing on her face.

"I thought so," Philip replied. "Here, let me help you." He put his hands on her waist and helped pry her off of Apollo’s back. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, he took one of the blankets, shook it out to its full-length and then wrapped it around Chloe. "I don’t want you to catch cold," he murmured, his vivid blue eyes staring deeply into hers.

Chloe huddled down into the blanket as Philip wrapped another one around her. After he’d made sure that she was sufficiently wrapped up, he led her over to a bale of hay and helped her sit on it. "Be right back," he said.

He went over to Apollo and led the horse back to his stall. Chloe studied Philip’s with open interest. His wet t-shirt clung to his body, and she could clearly see the muscles in his back flexing and twitching as he tried to get Apollo into his stall. She’d seen him earlier that day without his shirt on, and she found herself wondering again what it would feel like to run her fingers along his back, along his chest, along those arms…

"Chloe?" Philip asked, waving a hand in front of her face. Chloe jumped and her heart started to beat quickly from the sudden adrenaline rush. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I’m still cold, and my legs hurt from riding on Leto," she said through chattering teeth.

Philip crouched down and pushed the blankets off of Chloe’s legs. "Where do you hurt?"

Chloe’s face suddenly flushed, but she waved her hand over her thighs. Philip looked at her face and back down at her legs. He was sure the skin there would be a silky smooth as the rest of her appeared to be, and let his mind momentarily drift at the idea of Chloe sans pants. He gave her a wicked half-smile. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Chloe’s heart seemed to stop beating at the mental picture she was getting, of Philip’s head down kissing her thighs… "No, I’ll be okay," she finally stammered out.

"You should at least let me rub it," he admonished. Philip moved his long, graceful fingers up to Chloe’s inner thigh and began gently massaging it. "Does that feel better?"

Chloe’s grip on her blankets tightened. She could only nod in the affirmative. She didn’t know if better was the right word, but it definitely felt wonderful, despite the pain. Philip’s fingers continued moving over Chloe’s wet jeans, gently rubbing and massaging her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat and she decided that if her heart beat any faster it would probably explode. Philip seemed to be oblivious to Chloe’s reaction as he moved to her other leg and continued working his magic there. Philip couldn’t believe that Chloe was letting him do something like this, letting him touch her like he was. The thought of doing this to Chloe while she was wearing nothing but the blanket had Philip in a state of total arousal. After a few minutes he felt like he couldn’t take any more of this kind of torture. He looked up at her, his eyes darkened, and he moved in to kiss her. Chloe’s head seemed to nod slightly, as if she was encouraging him. His lips had barely settled on hers when they heard noises behind them.

"We found her!" one of the stable hands called out as he led Leto into where Chloe and Philip were sitting.

"That’s great," Philip managed to say. A Range Rover sat outside the stables, and the other stable hand got out and threw the keys to Philip. "Thought you might want to take your friend home," he called out.

"Good idea," Philip responded. He looked at Chloe. "Ready to go home?"

"Yes," Chloe said. Yes seemed like an appropriate response. Her befuddled mind had no idea what he just said, but yes was usually a safe answer.

**************************************************

Mimi had learned more about Brady in the last two hours than she had over her lifetime of being in the Black household. They had discussed just about everything – Brady’s interests ranged from politics to art to entertainment to music to sports and everything else in-between. There had been the usual bantering and bickering, but this time it was different. Brady wasn’t acting condescending or patronizing. It was as if he was actually interested in what she thought, and enjoyed getting into heated debates with her if they took opposing views. Mimi had never had a conversation like this with any guy before, not even her male friends. Mimi was beyond disappointed when she heard her mother calling her to dinner.

"Brady?" she sighed. "I have to go. My mom’s calling me."

"Tell her too bad. I called you first," he smiled.

"I really do have to go."

"We should try this more often. You know, the whole talking thing," Brady said. He was completely surprised by how much he’d enjoyed the conversation with Mimi.

"Yeah, when we get together there doesn’t seem to be much talking involved," Mimi gently scolded, suppressing a desire to laugh.

"Can I help it if I can think of better uses for your mouth than talking?" Brady asked in a seductive voice.

Mimi did laugh this time. "Well, now I have to go use my mouth to eat. I guess I’ll see you on Friday."

"Yeah, Friday. Bye, Mimi," he said and he heard her hang up the phone. He had to wait until Friday? Not unless I see you sooner, Brady thought. Like maybe tonight.