Denise was in the bathroom getting out of her wet clothes and putting on her bathrobe. Sam walked in to the living room and knelt down beside the fire...lace. He pushed a button the marble slab beneath the fire and flames licked the artificial coals. Going to the drinks cabinet, he took a glass and poured himself a brandy. He sat in front of the fire while sipping at his drink. ‘Do I not get one?’ Denise asked from the doorway. She walked to him, her silk bathrobe hugging her in all the right. ‘Ned Doggy Dog,’ She said, using his ‘pet’ name. You can love me anytime you want: inside, outside, fast or slow, in the library, in your bedroom… Anywhere in your imagination. ‘You are my Sir Galahad, my Gawaine, sometimes even my Kay.’ ‘Sir Kay or Danny Kaye,’ Ned grinned. ‘No one can replace Danny Kaye,’ smiled Debbie. ‘But…’ ‘I will not have you become my Lancelot, my Mordred. You know what happened to them. ‘And Arthur?’ asked Ned. ‘Arthur died years ago,’ smiled Debbie, a single tear. More

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