The Many Tales of Blackjack: Rabbit Season

"If Sasha comes home early, we'd be very embarassed and he'd be very smug." Sergei said, without really needed to think about it. He could imagine the vision in his mind's eye. Sasha would not say a word, he'd just wait outside and whistle tunelessly as he waited. "But you are nice as you are..."

Sergei trailed off, putting Erin's words together with that odd feeling on the side of his neck (he'd thought she was just massaging him in a different way than usual). He grinned, blushed, and coughed all at the same time. "Do you want to do something from my misbegotten past?"

"Mmmm... I dunno if I'd enjoy that. He's always smug," Erin replied, massaging the flat of his stomach. "It can't be healthy for someone to be that smug all the time. I have to watch out for his health." She leaned in to whisper in his ear again, "Do you think we should just start being as shameless as he is when stealing his stuff? Maybe he'd just be smug that he corrupted us then."

She shifted her eyes around again, then leaned in again to gently bite just above his collar bone, looking only slightly incredulously to see if he really liked it.

"I dunno. Depends what it is?" Erin said, with a coy smile. "What would you have in mind?"

Cupid's Eye

"Sasha will be smug if Sasha wants to be smug, and there is nothing at all we can do about it." Sergei said, closing his eyes. This was a fact of life. Sergei breathed out, laughing quietly as Erin touched a particularly ticklish spot. "But he's been smug all his life, I'm not worried for his health."

Even as he relaxed, Erin saw the desires rising from Sergei's subconscious. Images of the two of them in a jacuzzi, sitting on the edge of the water, beautiful and drunk on fey-wine and ever so in love. Images of Erin in a white dress, and Sergei in a tuxedo, ever so carefully removing that dress.

"I am going to get you to relax, some day. Do you remember that strange wine you brought back that one day..." Sergei said, trailing off.

"I do. It just seemed to make you sad, back then..." Erin answered, moving down to toss off his socks and massage his feet. After having been on them all day, there was no doubt they needed attention. "I think I remember the headache the day after better, though. And having to stay at your place." She giggled a bit at the memory.

"Did you like it? I can get you more. I think I even have a bottle or two around somewhere," Erin said, a few bottles here or there for when Whim nagged her or other occasions.

"...do you want to just go steal his jacuzzi now?" she asked, smiling impishly.

"I was sad then, so I was a sad drunk." Sergei said, wiggling his toes. He tilted his head so he could glance at Erin far away. "But now I am happy, so I would be a happy drunk. This is an improvement?"

"If you grab a bottle, and we get rid of Sasha... where is he right now, do you know?" Sergei said. He was giving this serious consideration. "Can you ask Othello or... Mary ... to distract him for a few hours? We can do this."

"I don't know where he is right now. But I am his boss, after all," Erin said, grinning as she stopped the massage and flopped down on top of him. It was probably good that Erin was not subject to ethical business practice laws. "If he's busy, that's all well and good. And if not, I could send him on a niiiccceee long errand... got any good ideas?" she asked, tracing the tattoos on his bare chest.

"Something nice and fun, so he doesn't complain, I suppose," she conceded, "but it hardly needs to make sense, he already thinks I'm crazy."

"Counting something?" Sergei said, stroking Erin's hair, and the antennae that poked out through it. For some paradoxical reason, the antennae just amused Sergei beyond imagining, and he loved to touch them, stroke them, feel their feathery softness. "Something he would enjoy counting. Tell him to find every bar in London that sells scotch?"

"Mmmm," was all Erin replied, practically purring, settling down atop his chest as she fished out her cellphone. Fortunately for Erin, and possibly Sergei, she found him playing with the antennae exciting. It sent such lovely shivers down her skin. "But he might just call the bars if we're not careful. Better tell him to find us the best scotch, as well. And to take a cab. Oh, and he'd better find us the best hard cider, too. There's a birthday party coming up, and I'm semi-catering."

"We can take the door from my room to his place," she suggested, trailing fingers around his cheek. "You know, I don't own a swimsuit..."

"Neither do I." Sergei admitted. He didn't sound terribly put out by it. Instead, he tilted his head up and kissed Erin on the top of the head, running his hand down her back. He was grinning, that ever-so-familiar, silly little smile. "What will we do?"

"If you like to swim, you should get one. But it's a bit late to go shopping, sooo...." Erin slid off his chest, smiling mischievously at him as she pulled up a number on the phone. "I'll go call Sasha and get the wine... and you can think up a solution for us."

"I have full faith in you," she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips.