She Had Given Me A Piece Of

Good God,” I Whispered, Sitting On The Van’s Cot And Looking At My Legs, Horrified. They Were Hairy—not Wolf Hairy, But An I-couldn’t-find-my-razor-the-last-six-months Hairy. Utterly Grossed Out, I Took A Peek At My Armpit, Jerking Away. Oh, That’s Just…nasty.

And Then There Are The Rare Ones Who Know Love, Who Understand It. Who Freely Give Of Themselves, Demanding Only A Return Of That Love,that Trust.

Get Your Hand Off Me,” I Exclaimed, Voice Loud With Misplaced Anger As I Yanked Away From His Grip. “i’m A Professional, Not Some Distraught Girlfriend.” Well, I Was That Too, But I Knew How To Act At A Crime Scene.

Rachel Knew What She Was Doing. And When She Didn't, She Could Improvise On The Fly, Coming Up With Options That Left A Lot Of Collateral Damage But Usually Only Hurt Herself, Not The People Around Her. It Was One Of The Things He Would Never Admit That He Admired About Her.

Rache,” He Said, Trying To Get Into My Line Of Sight. “what More Do You Need? God To Send A Telegram?" (jenks)