A Bernard By Any Other Name

"Roxanne?"

"Yes?"

"Say I wasn't so normal. Say I was bald and had the complexion of a popular primary color, as a random, non-specific example. Would you still like me?"

She said of course she would, that you don't judge a book by its cover. His stomach danced with happy little butterflies until she gave the addendum: you judge people by their actions. That seemed a bit unfair and petty to him, and he told her so. She laughed then, and he realized that he'd unintentionally said something amusing again. As always, he didn't question it and chuckled along with her. Yes, I, Bernard, meant to do that, he thought with a smile. For I am charming and witty.

And then, something wondrous occurred. She gave him that smile again, the one he'd only ever seen as Bernard, the soft one with her eyes looking directly into his with no disdain or annoyance in them at all. There was no shy release of the gaze this time, and as their eyes continued to meet, she leaned forward. Without thinking, he leaned toward her in return. It was right before it happened when he realized they were about to kiss for the first time. Ecstatic, he paused a moment to figure out which way his head was supposed to go, and then, quite intuitively, he pressed his lips to hers. The butterflies returned in triumph and did their victory dance.

Her hand slid over his and her fingertips touched his wrist. His arm readjusted itself instinctively and pulled back just a little, protecting the watch from her touch. The dial could be very sensitive.

Some time later, his brain switched back on. His face had been hovering halfway over the table, his eyes blissfully shut for who knew how long; seconds, maybe years. He became aware that the warmth of her lips was gone. Experimentally, he cracked open an eyelid. She was laughing again.

"Hello? Earth to Bernard?" She was smirking at him, but her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes sparkled.

"Hnngh?" his tongue managed, suavely.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you, ma'am. May I have another?" he said in a daze.

She took this as wit again and grinned. Damn, he was lucky that Bernard's face made up for his…occasional, extremely rare, once-in-a-blue-moon moments of not being 100% smooth.

"Mmm, we'll see, Tiger." She rested her chin on her hand and crossed her legs, brushing the toe of her shoe against the side of his trouser leg.

The butterflies started freaking out and migrated in a southernly direction. Bernard's face went bright red. "Haa ha, hooookay," he mumbled goofily.

"I think we've both had enough champagne, don't you? Perhaps we should postpone dinner," she suggested.

His face and stomach fell. "Oh," he said, visibly disappointed and confused. "Okay, I guess."

"So we can continue this particular conversation somewhere else?" she said, placing her hand over his again reassuringly.

"Somewhere else," he parroted, nodding but not really getting it.

"Yes, somewhere more private maybe?" She lifted an eyebrow and stared meaningfully at him, as if willing him to catch on already.

"Oh! Somewhere more PRIVATE!" he replied brightly, and a bit too loud. "I get it."

He couldn't stop himself. He started laughing moronically. He was drunk on lip gloss and butterflies.

"Hm, okay," she said, waving her finger in the air at the waiter and reaching for her purse. "I think we need to get you out of here, big guy. I'm guessing you don't drink that often?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, no. I don't. I mean, I don't do things…like that. Not that often." he said, nervousness creeping into his voice. God, what was happening to him? His magnificent brain must be leaking out of his tremendous skull at this very moment!

"Oh, really now? Is that so?" she said, intrigued. "Interesting." Her grin widened.

-------

In the cab, Roxanne's stomach tightened in anticipation. She and Bernard held each other's hands and stared at each other, both of them breathing excitedly. But they just looked into each other's eyes, neither one knowing exactly what to do next. Finally she thought, Hell with it, here's to being normal, and dove straight in.

When she suddenly pressed herself against him, grabbed him by the neck, and kissed him aggressively, he gave a little start. But after maybe ten seconds, she felt his arms wrapping themselves around her as he kissed her back. Not in an expert way, really, but with enthusiasm. She pushed her tongue between his lips and she felt him inhale sharply, and his whole body trembled. He relaxed luxuriously into the kiss and let her explore his mouth. She sucked lightly on his tongue and heard him moan softly. She pulled away, panting, to look into his eyes again. His green irises were half hidden beneath his lids, and his lips were pink from smeared lipstick and nibbling.

"Is this…private enough?" he whispered through his heavy breaths, and tilted his head toward the cab driver.

If he hadn't said that, the answer would be hell yes, it was. But her attention being drawn to the fact that they were not yet entirely alone meant she couldn't really ignore it. She couldn't help looking into the rearview mirror to see the leering eyes of the cabbie. She turned her back to the peeping tom, half sitting on Bernard's lap and pushing him into the seat. "Just a few more blocks and we'll be at my place," she replied huskily, before she captured his lips again.

-----

They swept past Carlos, the doorman, Roxanne pulling him along as he stumbled behind.

She was all over him again in the elevator. His brain was completely gone by now. She slithered over him like a wonderful love octopus, appendages invading his personal space everywhere in the most welcome fashion. He was unable to make any sounds other than the grunts and moans of a lower primate. Oh those fingers, those palms, how they explored his body like clever little ferrets! She pushed a knee between his legs and he thought he might pass out from the overwhelming stimulation. He realized that he had a huge erection in front of a girl for the first time in years, and he didn't even care. Actually, he did care, quite a lot, in fact, but in an entirely different way. This was happy caring, not mortified caring.

Something was niggling at him in the back of his currently absent mind. His lizard brain (if indeed their were such things as lizards on his planet and you could call it that) couldn't have cared less and carried on without him. But amongst the groping and panting, a thought was starting to form, a thought he somehow knew he wouldn't like.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Roxanne grabbed him by the collar and practically yanked him out into the hallway. They raced to her apartment door, giggling like teenagers. She fumbled with her purse, blindly trying to find her keys.

"Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me, Bernard," she said, desperately searching the bag. "I don't usually do this kind of thing."

"Oh, I know you don't," he assured her, a little too sure in his knowledge, as he had a habit of having her monitored.

"Dragging guys up to my apartment right after kissing them the first time, I mean."

"Me neither."

"Ha! Can you stop joking for once?"

"Uh, yes. Certainly I can."

"Listen, I mean it. I want you to still respect me. Not think of me as some curator-seducing tart."

"Of course not!"

"It's just that…I really, really like you Bernard. And to be honest, it's been a while for me."

"Hm? For you what?"

"Sex, Bernard. It's been a while since I've had sex."

"Oh, yes! For me too. It's been quite a…long while, honestly."

"And right now, I don't want to wait any more. Not with everything that's going on."

"Ah," he said, feeling awkward. Until this moment he'd forgotten it all; the dead and remade superheroes, the lost friends, the mountain of lies. The fact that she was onto his plan, which he was supposed to finalize tomorrow.

"I think I'm realizing that you've got to grab a good thing while you can," she said, staring into his eyes earnestly. "Because you never know when it might all go to hell."

"I…I know exactly what you mean," he said. He held her arm and pulled her closer. "So, shall we?"

"Oops. Oh yeah, keys," she said, finding the key chain looped around one of her fingers.

----

Once inside, Roxanne started to feel nervous. It was just like riding a bicycle, right? She could probably remember where everything went, but Bernard seemed like he might still be on his training wheels. Not that surprising, really. Fairly standard for guys who are obsessed with superheroes.

Best to take it slow and easy, then.

"Drink?" she asked.

"We already had too many at the restaurant, remember?" he said, "Unless the invitation was to drink in your loveliness, in which case, the answer is yes." He cocked his eyebrow at her and wiggled it.

Okay, so he was not so good with the seduction.

"Let's sit on the couch and plan our next move, shall we?" she said, returning the eyebrow wiggle.

"That's a good plan. I like that plan!" he said with plenty of enthusiasm.

She sat down and patted the cushion next to her. He didn't need to be asked twice. He was on that seat in milliseconds flat and took her hand, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Okay, so…what do we do now?" he asked eagerly. Dear God, he was so freaking cute.

"Just do what comes naturally," she said in her most sultry voice, maybe overdoing it a bit but give her a break, being a full-time journalist and part-time damsel made it hard to get a date. She repositioned herself, sliding her thighs over his and straddling him on the sofa. She kissed him deeply and his hands came to rest naturally on her backside. He was reduced to jelly again. Bernard sure did wonders for her self-esteem. She slid her hands inside his jacket and felt him up through his turtleneck sweater.

-----

All his brain could process was the thought, YES, I'm finally going to have SEX, and with Roxanne, OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! Her rump was so delightfully squishy. He "squeezed the Charmin" as it were, and was rewarded with a little squeal from Roxanne. And then, she started exploring his body again. Running her hands over his chest to his belly, pulling up on the sweater a little. Trying to take off his jacket.

Oh, crab nuggets.

Bernard's clothes could not be removed without causing a glitch in the projection, which might even turn it off completely. He jumped up in fear, inadvertently causing her to spill to the ground.

No! No, no, no, NO! This made him furious with frustration.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Roxanne," he said, holding a hand out to help her up. "I…I'm not used to this, to be perfectly honest. It makes me nervous."

She looked concerned and frustrated, too. "Well, is there anything I can do to help you not be nervous?" she asked hopefully.

"Um…" he had to think quick. What were the options? He could run away, go home, have a long, cold shower. Take care of his needs himself. NO! Retreat is NOT an option!, he berated himself. You're a friggin genius, so use it! You can think your way through this. You're so close, damn it! If he could only find a way to keep her hands off him, to keep her from seeing him when he turned off the watch…

"Well, I might have an idea," he said a moment later, sounding little devious. "Do you happen to have any rope or twine? Duct tape, maybe?"

"What? Excuse me?" she said, her tone changing. Her voice was dangerously entering the vicinity of Angry-ville.

"Uh, I have a thing," he said quickly. "One of those, oh what do you call them? Kinks! Yes, I have a kink!" Thank you, internet, he thought.

"Really? You, Bernard, have a kink?" she asked skeptically. "Okay, so what kind of kink are we talking about, exactly?"

"Restraints. Some form of restraining…mechanism. Anything will do," he said, and realized that he was starting to sound crazy, and probably creepy. He blushed. "I'm sorry. It makes me uncomfortable to talk about."

"What? So that's all? No problem!" she said with a big, relieved grin. "I've got us covered."

"What is that?" he asked, unable to disguise the appalled surprise in his voice when she pulled the item out of the nightstand next to her bed.

"Well, what do you think it is? It's handcuffs."

"They're…fuzzy."

"Yeah, the fuzz protects your wrists from chafing."

"And the pink?"

"It's there to be, I dunno, cute and sexy? You can't tell me you've never seen a pair of these before."

"Not one that looked so flimsy," he said, inspecting the hinges. "What a substandard grade of metal." He tsked in disapproval.

"Well, sorry, but I just don't have a pair of heavy iron dungeon shackles on me."

"That's unfortunate."

"Wow, you're pretty intense about this stuff. What, are you into leather or something? Riding crops, the whole nine yards?"

"Leather, yes, riding crops, no. I don't own a horse or anything."

"Well thank goodness for that!" she said, throwing her arms up with a strange smile. She seemed simultaneously exasperated and amused. He was used to that from her. It was almost comforting. "Look, Bernard, I just don't know what it is that you really want," she said. "What kind of experience you've had. Have you done this with many other people?"

"Uh, well, no," he admitted. "The experience I've had is mostly through private experimentation. But yes, other people have been involved in my experiences with…restraints. I assure you, I'm very knowledgeable about the subject."

"Okaaay," she said, her eyebrows lifted rather high. "And, so, what is it you need for me to do? I mean, do you want to be the one tied up, or..."

"Oh! No. I just need you to be tied to the bed securely, so you can't move your arms."

"Why, Bernard, you naughty boy!" she said as she punched him gently on the arm. "Hmm. Okay, no problem. I've had plenty of experience with being tied up myself, after all."

"Ah!" he said, realization making him redden. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. If it's unpleasant for you…"

"Like I said, no problem. You sure you can't just deal with the fuzzy cuffs for now? It's not like I'm actually going to be trying to get away."

"Hm. That's a good point," he said thoughtfully. This was new territory for him. "All right, then. So long as you promise not to escape."

"Cross my heart. But are you sure you don't want me to struggle just a little bit?" she said with a naughty smile, her hand resting on her full hip.

"That…that might be nice," he said, and swallowed.

----

So Bernard was kinky. A kinky virgin. Or semi-virgin, anyway. He still acted like he'd never done any of this before. Except the handcuffs; he was definitely handy with those. He pulled them between the bars on her bed's headboard and clicked them into place, making sure they were snug and secure. He seemed nervous about them.

"I swear I won't get away," she reassured him. "I'm all yours, buddy. Helpless as a kitten."

"A man-eating kitten, maybe," he said, but appeared more comfortable now. He leaned over her and kissed her softly on the throat. "You're more of a cunning lioness, from my experience." He got up and closed the bedroom door, shutting out the light from the living room. Then he turned off her bedroom lamp, leaving them in the dark. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I'm a little shy about getting undressed in front of people."

"It's all right," she said. "But I thought that the appeal of this scenario was at least partly visual."

"Oh, I can see you fine. You're beautiful." She could feel his weight resting on the bed next to her. Her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet, but she thought she could make out the weak light reflecting off his glasses. She was not particularly nervous about being in a situation like this with a man she knew only fairly well and had never slept with before. Other women might be, but her own peculiar life made her quite prepared to deal with potential wackos. Besides, Bernard was not exactly what you'd call strong and she could definitely kick his ass if she ever needed to. But she was more than positive that she never would, and his general meekness meant that she was the one who had to be gentle.

"So, here we are, alone at last," he sighed contentedly. "And you're all mine." His finger traced the line of her jaw.

"I sure am. So come and get me," she replied.

"Happily," he said in a low voice. His weight left the bed as he got up again and crossed the room. "Just let me slip into something more comfortable." She heard a small noise, like an electronic sound. He paused, and then approached her again. The air felt different in the room. She swore she could almost hear a swish as he walked. A hand touched her, hesitant at first, and then slid along the material of her dress. He caressed the side of her breast, her waist, her hip. She heard him let out a delicious sigh. His hand moved slowly up her stomach and gently touched the swell of her breast, sneaking inside her bra.

"Wait, are you wearing gloves?" she asked. Okay, she admitted it, this was getting a little bit strange.

"Shhh," he purred against her ear. "Don't fight. You're in my power now. Finally. Completely." He let out a hungry little moan, and rubbed her nipple between his fingers. His other hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirt up to her waist. She gasped a little and shivered.

-----

Now he was Megamind, Handsome and Confident Master of Evil. He could do whatever he wanted to her, with no concern about being interrupted. Ooh, that was good. He should say that.

"Now I can do whatever I want to you, Roxanne, with no concern about being rudely interrupted," he said and chuckled evilly. "Oh my. Wherever to begin?" He could see her quite well in the darkness, while her human eyes only blinked and squinted in his direction. She was breathing heavily, looking ever so slightly uneasy. Her lips were parted, moistened as she bit them nervously. He leaned his weight on top of her and kissed her then, mimicking her own ravenous tongue motions from earlier. His thigh pressed between hers. He was hard again, and wanted her to feel it. He rubbed himself against her hip. "Such a delectable creature you are," he breathed hotly. "My fetching little temptress."

"Wow, Bernard! This is unexpected," she said between heavy breaths. "I knew you were an expert on Megamind, but I didn't know you could impersonate him so well!"

He froze. Uh oh. He was getting a little too into the moment. "Ah. Yes. Is that…weird for you?"

"Surprisingly, no," she said, smiling. "So long as you're the one doing it, it's not weird at all. It's kind of a turn-on, frankly."

"So you actually like it when I act like him?" he asked, stunned.

"Yeah, it's twisted, but I gotta say, it's getting me hot," she confessed. "I mean, the whole kidnap-and-bondage thing is obviously fetish-fuel anyway. As a weekly routine it's just a big headache, but with somebody I'm actually attracted to, it's really…exciting."

He blinked, incredulous. Her flush of arousal was visible even in the dark, though. "Oh, Roxanne!" he gushed. "I can't tell you how happy this makes me!" He straddled her and placed his hands on either side of her head, lowering himself until he felt her breasts pressed tightly against his chest. "I should have known you'd have a dark side, you mischievous minx." He nibbled an earlobe and growled.

"This is so demented," she giggled.

"Hush, my sweet," he whispered. "Let me show you pleasures no earthly woman has ever known." What those were, he had no idea, but he was damn well going to enjoy finding out.

----

This was so, so weird. In any other circumstance, she'd be completely embarrassed about getting worked up like this over somebody role-playing Megamind for her. But it was Bernard, so it was okay. He was the world's biggest Megamind geek, and in a way, she was the second biggest. They were both giggling like idiots.

"Okay, okay, let's get serious," Bernard said giddily, and cleared his throat. "Now, Roxanne, are you prepared for my worst?" he said in Megamind's ultra-melodramatic tone.

"Your best is your worst and your worst is your best, Megamind," she said smugly, relaxing into her usual role. "Doesn't really matter what you try to do. Nothing you do ever succeeds."

"That's not true and you know it," he said with insidious triumph. "You can no longer say that I'm a failure."

Okay, that hit a bit close to home. "You've never done anything that anyone should be proud of," she snapped.

"On the contrary, Miss Ritchi. I've got you handcuffed to a bed, your body waiting to be plundered. Any man in the world would be proud of that."

"What cheesy, romance novel tripe!" she crowed. "You secretly read Harlequin romances, don't you?"

"I may have perused a couple…er, but that is of no significance! What is of significance is that there is no one coming to save you this time! Nothing can stop me from making you mine!"

"So you admit that you want me, then," she said, a long smirk spreading over her face. "My 'temptress' tricks' have worked on you."

"I admit nothing!" he protested. He sounded frustrated, in more ways than one. He pressed his weight down on her. "You won't defeat me with your razor-sharp tongue this time, Miss Ritchi. I'll make you see that I'm the only man worthy of your adoration, now that there's no one in my way, and I now know that there never was. Now that he's gone."

"Don't you dare you talk about him, after what you did," Roxanne hissed. There was a cold knot forming in her stomach. What was going on? This wasn't sounding like role-playing any more, this sounded like a genuine conversation. But she couldn't stop; it felt so cathartic. "Thought you were a real big man after that, huh? Well now you regret it, don't you? Nobody around to beat you up anymore, so now you're beating yourself up through a proxy. You're pathetic."

"It was an accident, Roxanne, you know it was," he said. His face was pressed into her neck. His voice sounded a little wet. "I always played by the rules of the game. We were each other's respected nemeses. He'd never shown any vulnerabilities before. How was I to know? But now it can be different, Roxanne. Better. And we can be together." He caressed her cheek with a gloved finger, traced her lips. "Yes, I'll admit it. I always wanted you. But I thought you'd never want me as long as he was around, so I tried to ignore my desires. But now that you've let me into your most guarded secrets…" He spread her knees apart with his legs. "Ah, to think of the things we could have been doing all these years…" He pressed himself against her pelvis and she quivered. He was more than ready.

The cold knot was now a icy tingle all through her body. Was Bernard really wearing gloves and a cape? It felt like he was. But surely he hadn't had time to put them on, and it's not like he was carrying them with him…

"You can't make me want you just by wishing for it," she said uneasily, trying to put a sneer in her voice, though her mouth was dry. "There's nothing you could do to ever make that happen." She started struggling against the cuffs, just to assure herself that they weren't that strong.

"As always, you underestimate me, Roxanne," he said through what was undoubtedly a very evil grin.

----

Thanks again to the internet, and something called the "Barely Legal Lesbian Twins" website, he had a wonderfully wicked idea of what to do next. As she squirmed against him in the most intoxicating way, he slowly moved down her body. He kissed the tops of her breasts, her ribs, her navel, as his hands slid up and down her sides. He squeezed her soft flesh, then lifted and rested her plump thigh on his shoulder. She wasn't kicking him or fighting that hard. She wasn't even swearing at him, just panting and looking perplexed and conflicted. She probably suspected the truth by now, but it was highly unlikely that she'd actually believe it was possible.

His long, spidery fingers found the waist of her bikini briefs, and he tugged it down slowly as he breathed on her belly. His mouth was dry and his muscles were tense. He wanted to make her moan and cry out with pleasure.

She didn't try to stop him. He could tell why almost immediately. She was pretty moist already. Human female sexual response was something he'd idly studied in his early days, completely in an academic sense, of course. It was hard to find willing test subjects for such a thing.

He pulled the panties down completely and tossed them aside. He touched his nose to her inner thigh, sucked a little of her curvaceous flesh into his mouth. She gasped and said, "Wait…" He flicked his tongue experimentally along the lips of her vulva, and she actually squeaked. Grinning like a cat, he licked her again, long and slowly, along the crease. "Ahh," she whimpered, biting her lip hard.

He was going to be victorious. Truly victorious, this time.

He gently pulled the lips apart. Even in the sparse light, she glistened, pink and pretty. The task was a daunting one, though. After a moment of thought, he decided to kiss her there the way she'd kissed his mouth in the cab. Throwing caution to the wind, he dove straight in.

-----

She wasn't sure what she was feeling, some kind of mixture of lust and fear. Not fear of him, exactly…fear of the situation. But it wasn't like it was really Megamind. That was ridiculous. He never would have been able to trick her into thinking he was a nice guy and then actually seduce her. Ripples of pleasure radiated up her body from where his tongue was working industriously. She wouldn't feel like this if it was really him. Never. He was a bumbling idiot who wouldn't know what to put where. Bernard was just really good at being him. Like, scary good at it. Literally scary. She'd have to talk to him later about not striving for such realism.

Her eyes were shut tight and she moaned, "Oh God, please…put your fingers in me." She didn't mean to say it, it just came out. But, yeah, she really wanted that to happen.

An evil chuckle, almost turning into a cackle, emanated from her neither regions. "My, my. How easily the mighty tigress is turned into the humble kitty-cat." If he wasn't holding her legs open, she knew he'd be touching his fingertips to each other in wicked glee.

"Lioness," she managed through ragged pants. "It was 'lioness'. Dolt."

"Quip while you can, Roxanne! I'll soon render you incoherent."

"Always with the melodramatic speeches!" she said, rolling her eyes as tossed her head to the side and wriggled with irritated need. "Shut up and put your money where your mouth is."

Always one to rise to a challenge, "Megamind" went straight back to work without comment. He gently slid one of the leather-clad fingers inside of her, and she couldn't help arching her back and crying out. His fingers were so long and thin. Were Bernard's also really that long? "Mmmm," he hummed with great satisfaction, and bent down to lick her clit. "Aaaahhh!" she cried, and hissed through clenched teeth. Her hips bucked against him, but he held her down, pausing to insert a second finger before slowly beginning to work them in and out. His tongue flicked relentlessly at her as she writhed and moaned. She was vaguely aware that she was moaning louder and louder, not really conscious of what her body was doing. His tongue lapped, teased, and circled her clit over and over again. He increased the pace of his fingers moving inside her. Her bound hands clenched into fists. Her toes curled.

"Oh my God, Bernard!" She called out as she came.

-----

That pulled him out of the moment. He lifted his face and frowned. Her muscles were still twitching, squeezing at him. Here she was, all his at last, and yet not. His jaw clenched and he grunted unhappily. He removed his fingers from her and worked on pulling down his own pants.

"Oh, God, Bernard, that was incredible," she said, laughing happily. "You sure do have some hidden depths."

Wordlessly, he lifted himself on top of her and wrapped her legs around his middle. He let her feel his naked desire pressed against the inside of her thigh.

"Say my name," he whispered huskily.

She trembled pleasantly and kissed his lips. "Bernard," she whispered back.

"No," he said, unable to hide a little irritation in his voice. "Say my name." He pushed the tip inside her. She was wonderful and warm.

"What do you mean?" she said, and stopped moving. Tensed a little.

"Just say it," he said, his voice heavy with frustration and impatience. "Please."

"Bernard…?"

"No, Roxanne. I'm the one you want, not him. I'm the one who loves you. Just call me by my name."

She stopped breathing.

-----

She held her breath as a terrifying feeling of truth filled her. Was Bernard certifiably insane, or was it an even worse possibility?

"Bernard. I need you," she said, softly. Her jaw was tight.

"No," he groaned. "Just say…"

"Bernard, I want you," she said, forcing her voice to sound silky.

"Please, don't torture me, Roxanne."

"Bernard, I care about you. What we have between us, it's real, right?" She peered as hard as she could through the shadows. It was so dark, but she could swear she could make out a shape in front of her. Round. Large.

"Yes, of course it's real. But right now I just need you to say…"

She suddenly yanked at the cuffs with both arms with all her might. The pins holding the hinges together shattered and went flying. The force of the movement knocked the lamp off of the nightstand and it landed on its side, flickering on.

"JESUS H. CHRIST," she exclaimed, enraged. They stared at each other in silence. She seethed, he cringed.

"That's not exactly the name I was hoping for," he said, finally.


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TO BE CONTINU-ED!!