Crystal found her hand clasped between two larger ones as Peter walked away, leaving her alone with the man easily twice her size. She couldn't decide if he looked more like a wrestler or a bodybuilder. The sheer size of the stranger was enough to get her heart pounding with an old fear and the urge to flee was almost too much. Then the giant opened his mouth.

"I'm pleased to meet you," his said, his voice almost as high as hers. "I'm Michael Swenson, Peter's lover."

"Hi." She tried to reconcile the boyish voice with the grown man standing before her. "Crystal."

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Crystal," he said, every word calming her innate fear. "You'll have to excuse Peter. Manners never were his thing." "Don't start," a voice called from the kitchen. "It's not my fault you don't pay attention."

The blond man tsked and rolled his eyes. "He thinks he tells me things," he whispered conspiratorially. Crystal couldn't help but smirk at his expression. "Four hours ago he tells me we're supposed to bring a soufflé." He sighed and shook his head. "But you don't need to hear about our problems."

"Oh well, um it smells wonderful." That voice just doesn't fit that body, she thought to herself.

"Wait until you taste it."

"Hi Michael," Laura said as she walked into the room, offering her cheek for a perfunctory kiss. "It's good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure. It's nice to get out of the house once in a while," he replied, earning a snort from his lover standing near the entrance to the kitchen. Crystal looked over to see Peter shake his head and stalk off into the kitchen. Michael sat down on the couch, leaning back and crossing his leg over his knee. "I wanted to go to the fair this weekend but he promised his mother I'd fix her porch."

"You'd rather my mother broke her hip falling off those rickety steps?" the red-haired man said as he walked into the room, a cocktail tray with drinks in hand. He looked at Laura and huffed. "I swear he's just so thoughtless sometimes. Here sweetie, club soda with lime." He handed the glass to the writer, then turned his attention to Crystal. "I didn't know what you liked but I figured you for a gin and tonic girl."

Gin? She looked in surprise at Laura, then at her drink. She has booze somewhere? Oh what an idiot I am. Having not seen her roommate drink or seen any bottles lying around, Crystal assumed there was no liquor in the house. So that day I sat here and suffered, you had something here all along? She made a mental note to check out what was really in the cabinets in the kitchen the next time Laura went out. "Thank you." I could use this about now.

Peter took his drink and set the tray with its remaining glass on the coffee table. Laura frowned slightly and handed Michael the drink. "Michael, how difficult would it be to install a light on the upstairs deck?"

The big blonde man shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard. It's just a clapboard wall on the outside and sheet rock inside, right?" "Right."

"Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours if there's a good place to connect into the wiring. I could probably get it done in an afternoon."

Peter leaned over until his face was next to Laura's. "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," he said. "I've been waiting five weeks for Mister Fix-It to put up my new bird feeder."

"I hung it up twice," the handyman defended. "Both times you bitched."

"Well how am I supposed to see it from the bedroom window if you hide it under all those leaves?" The redhead straightened and took a small sip of his drink. "Honestly I just don't know what you're thinking sometimes."

"I'm thinking how nice it would be to go somewhere for once and not have you throw a hissy fit."

Peter held his drink close to his chest and tapped his foot on the short carpeting. "Laura, would you join me in the kitchen, please? There's something I want to show you."

"I don't think that line will work on her," Michael said, his youthful voice again drawing Crystal's attention to him. "That only works on guys hanging out at in the park," he continued.

Ooh. Crystal winced. Jeez, he's really pissed.

"He thinks I believe him when he tells me he's going to the gym," the blond man said to her. "Mister Vanity doesn't realize I canceled our membership two months ago."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "So why haven't you told him?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

His round face puffed up with a smile. "He's just having a fit because I yelled at him for not giving me more notice with the soufflé. He'll get over it in a little while if I stop picking on him." He leaned forward. "I'm saving my trump card until he discovers I scratched the paint on his car backing into a parking space."

Crystal brought the glass to her lips, tasting very little tonic. Few more of these and I won't have to sneak upstairs for a hit, she mused, taking another healthy sip. She realized Michael was still speaking to her. "What?"

"I asked if you wanted to show me the balcony so I can give Laura a better i.e.of how much it would cost to put a light in." "Um" Upstairs? Alone? Rational thought told her that the hulking blond man meant her no harm but she couldn't stop the tensing of her body. Downing the rest of her drink, Crystal struggled to think of an excuse not to go upstairs with him. Fortunately Laura unwittingly came to her rescue.

"Would anyone like some fruit salad?" she asked as she entered the living room.

Perfect. "Sounds great." Crystal stood up quickly. "I'll get it while you show him where you want that light."

"Oh, okay. It's in the green bowl in the fridge."

"Okay." Crystal escaped into the kitchen, finding Peter leaning against the railing on the deck. She found the bowl and was setting it on the counter when he spoke.

"I suppose he told you what a bad guy I am, hmm?" He wagged his finger. "I asked him to make a soufflé. You'd think I asked him to pave the driveway in the middle of August. Oh no, my dear." He reached over and took the spoon from her. "A good rule of thumb Miss Sheridan is to give your guest just a few bites. Appetizer plates should always be small. Don't want to take a chance of ruining anyone's appetite, do we?"

Well excuse me, Martha Stewart, she thought as she watched him resize the portions. The thought of going upstairs for a few hits of pot were dashed when she saw Michael and Laura ascending the stairs. Fuck it, I'll settle for a cigarette and a drink. Looking around, she spotted the bottle of gin on the counter. "Would you like another drink, Mister Knight?"

"Oh please call me Peter, and no thank you." He picked up his half full glass and jiggled it. "The home handyman won't let me have more than a couple of drinks while we're out."

"He's upstairs now," she pointed out, holding the bottle in her hand.

The redhead looked over at the empty living room, then at the stairs before thrusting his glass at her. "Well I suppose there's nothing wrong with topping it off."

"No, nothing at all," she said as she filled his glass.

"Thank you," he said, bringing the drink to his lips. "Ooh, now that has some kick to it, doesn't it?" He took another sip. "You do like to make them strong, Miss Sheridan."

"Crystal and yeah, the stronger the better." She took a healthy swallow or her own drink and headed for the sliding glass door. "I need a smoke." "By all means, Miss, I mean Crystal." He followed her outside. "I see Laura is enforcing her no smoking rule."

"Mm, One of her many rules," the stripper mumbled as she lit her cigarette. "You should be a used car salesman."

Peter laughed nervously. "Well now, I guess I wasn't completely forthcoming about Laura's little quirks."

"No, not exactly," she agreed.

"But you two are getting along splendidly from what I see now," he offered in defense. "Laura likes you."

"Peter you'd better stop talking about me," the writer's voice carried from the upper deck. The balding man's face turned redder than his hair.

"Oh my, what an embarrassing faux pas." In a louder voice he called "I was just commenting on how well you and Miss Sheridan were getting along."

"Uh huh, I know exactly what you were doing," Laura said, leaning over the upper rail. "I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" "Um, the fruit salad is ready," Crystal said before taking a long drag of her cigarette. "And I'm getting hungry."

"All right, we'll be down in a minute."

Crystal's fork carefully avoided all but the grapes and peaches while she listened to Michael ramble on about how to wire a fixture on the upper deck. Peter and Laura were in deep conversation, about what the stripper wasn't sure. Deciding that it had to be more interesting than the benefits of adjustable lighting, Crystal turned her attention to them. Peter was shaking his head in disagreement with something Laura said.

"Well what are they going to do? Decide not to publish your book?"

"They could. Most likely they push it back on the production schedule."

"That means pushing back your checks," Peter said. "Any chance you'll meet the deadline?"

"Even if I sat in front of that computer day and night I wouldn't make it. I can't figure out where to go from here with the characters and the whole trial scene seems awkward at this point." Laura took another bite of her fruit salad and pushed the bowl away, dabbing the corners of her lips with her napkin. "I hate writer's block." The ding of the oven timer ended the conversation. "If you will excuse me," she said as she rose to her feet. "I have to check on dinner."

"I'll help," Crystal offered, not wanting to be stuck alone with the quarreling lovers. She followed Laura into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," the writer said as she pulled the pan out of the oven. "Sometimes the boys get into a fight and they don't know enough to leave it at home."

"It's all right. At least they're not throwing punches."

"No, they won't get to that point." Laura began transferring the chicken to the serving tray. "At the very worst they'll just not speak to each other. Would you bring the soufflé to the table?"

"Sure." Using the potholders, she picked up the ceramic dish and headed for the deck. The aroma wafted under her nose, making Crystal's mouth water in anticipation. Despite her earlier misgivings, she was now looking forward to her first sampling of the spinach soufflé. She found Peter and Michael staring in different directions when she stepped out onto the deck.

"Oh here, let me help," Michael said, moving a trivet to the center of the table.

"You have to leave room for the entree," Peter huffed, moving the hot plate to the side to make room for the chicken plate. Once she was certain the wrought iron trivet was staying put, Crystal set the dish down. She turned to go help Laura but found the dark haired woman coming through the doorway with the entree in her hands.

"The rice and sauce are still in there," Laura said, jerking her chin in the direction of the kitchen.

"I'll get them." Crystal stepped around her roommate and returned to the kitchen. Scooping the rice from the pot into the bowl, she couldn't resist taking a taste or two. Fortunately Laura had made more than enough.

They sat at the round table on the deck with the women across from each other, Michael on Crystal's left and Peter on her right. "Smells delectable," Peter said enthusiastically as he took the dish from Laura. "I haven't had lemon chicken in ages."

"Well I've never had it but you're right, it does smell good," Crystal said as she reached for the dish.

"Oh no, my dear, allow me," Peter said, setting the plate down on the trivet. He put two pieces on her plate and poured a generous amount of sauce over them. "Trust me, you'll love it."

Love it or hate it, Crystal was determined to put a good face on for her roommate. She waited until everyone had filled their plates before picking up her fork. Deciding the rice pilaf looked safest, she aimed her fork for it.

"You haven't tried the soufflé yet?" Michael asked before her utensil made contact with any food.

"Don't be silly, Michael," Peter admonished. "Of course she's going to try Laura's chicken first. Go ahead my dear, try it." "Actually" she started, looking hesitantly at the green vegetable.

"No, it's okay," Laura said. "You can try the soufflé first if you want to. I don't mind."

"See?" the blond man said impatiently at his lover. "Go on, Crystal. It'll melt in your mouth, I swear."

Six eyes watched as Crystal took a forkful of the puffy dish and brought it to her lips. "Mmm." As Michael had predicted, it did indeed melt in her mouth. "It's good," she mumbled, putting another piece in her mouth.