db1bd484fe8700408f51338793ca8c56

“We keep answering the Summons…” She frowned, searching for a plural. “…s I get. Nothing else we can do.”

Unconvinced, Dean sat beside her on the bed.“Shouldn’t we tell someone, then?”

“Who?”

“Other Keepers?”

“Actually, they know.”

“They know?”

“Not exactly about the angel, but they know we, uh, consummated our relationship. Apparently it echoed through the possibilities.” He looked so appalled, she managed what she hoped was an encouraging smile in spite of her own pique. “Everyone was very impressed. Keepers who’ve never used anything more complicated than a ballpoint pen suddenly felt obliged to send me an e-mail about it. Isn’t technology wonderful. But,” she added emphatically, the smile slipping, “since the world’s in no danger, I’m not telling them about the angel until we absolutely have to. There’s no point giving them more to discuss, is there? They’ll all start telling me we should have used precautions.”

“We did.”

“Metaphysical precautions.”

“Oh.” Cleaning already spotless glasses on the edge of his T-shirt gave him a moment to find the right words. “Claire, I’m not happy with our…with what we do, being discussed, you know, electronically.”

“I’m not happy about it either,” she admitted, tossing the laptop to one side. “But all they know that the Earth moved. Nothing specific. Without details, they won’t discuss it for long.”

“The Earth moved?”

“Well, only around the Pacific Rim…” Rising up onto her knees, she took the edge of his earlobe between her teeth. “…so you needn’t get too impressed with yourself.”

He twisted, caught her around the waist, and they fell back on the bed locked together.

“Hey! Watch the tail!”

“Oops, sorry, Austin.” As Dean sat up, Claire rolled off the bed, grabbing a pillow in one hand, scooping Austin up with the other. “And thanks for reminding me that you’ll be starting out in the bathroom tonight.”

“Oh, please. I have no interest in watching the two of you do whatever it is the two of you are intending to do.”

“I’m not so much concerned about the watching,” she told him, adjusting her hold, “as I am about the commenting and the criticizing.”

“Look, if you can’t take a little criticism…”

“Good night, Austin.”

He glared at her as she set the pillow down just inside the bathroom door and then set him on it.“This is cat abuse. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

“Would a salmon treat forestall litigation?”

“No. But a salmon might.”

“Dream on.” Handing over the treat, she pulled the door closed. “Feel free to join us after we go to sleep.”

“Uh, Claire…” Dean nodded toward the door. “How can he join us if that’s closed?”

“A closed door has never stopped a determined cat.”

“Uh-huh.” His T-shirt stopped halfway up his torso. “So you’re saying he can come out any time, then?”

“No.” Smiling, she reached into the possibilities and laid them against the latch plate. “He can come out when that wears off.”

Austin’s indignant, “Cheater!” was muffled but distinct.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_5]

“I’m sorry, Claire. This has never happened before.”

“You’ve only done it once before.”

“And this didn’t happen!”

Rising up on one elbow, she bent forward and kissed him softly.“Just relax.” Kissed him a little harder. “Everything’s going to be fine.” Kissed him with more enthusiasm. Stopped kissing him. Leaned back. “Or maybe not. You’re so tense I could bounce quarters off you…well, off most of you.…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it me?”

“You?” Her question had been delivered with a total absence of emotion. Without his glasses, he couldn’t tell for sure if she looked hurt or angry. “It’s not you. It’s nothing.”

“And I know when you’re lying, remember?”

Dean sighed and surrendered.“Okay.” He stared up at the tiny red dot on the hotel room’s smoke detector and thanked all the gods who might be listening that Austin was in the bathroom. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened the last time, and it’s got me some caudled up, I can tell you.”

“Shouldn’t those be happy thoughts?” Deep burgundy fingernails tapped against his skin in a way that should have been enough to raise a reaction all on its own. It wasn’t.

His cheeks flamed.“Not those thoughts. I keep thinking about how we made an angel.”

“And you’re worried it’ll happen again?”

“No…”

“You’re worried it won’t?” His silence was all the answer she needed. “But we don’t want it to happen again.”

“But you want it to be that good.”

“Well…”

“Good enough to make an angel.”

“Yes, but…”

“That’ssome good.”

All at once, she understood.“You’re afraid you won’t be that good again!”

A faint“I heard that,” sounded from the bathroom.

Dean closed his eyes.That was all he needed to finish the night off right.

Resting her chin on his sternum, Claire considered the situation. She supposed she could see how ripping a hole through the fabric of the universe big enough to slip an angel through the very first time he had sex might cause Dean some performance anxiety. She didn’t know what to do about it though. “Dean, you can’t expect to make an angel every time.”

“I know.”

Now she was really confused.“Well, then…”