I glared at Cassie for that, but not very hard.

"I don't mean that so much the way it sounds as I do that it's the truth," she continued. "A naked witch gets in running water with you, and you lose your head. How many did you smoke?"

"Just one. Never again, though. It made me sick right after."

"That was probably from contact with her. Did you know that some lizards can poison people just by touch?"

Annoyed, I put down the radio script that she was ostensibly in my office to discuss. "I'm sorry I told you."

"So am I, because now I have to do something about it. You aren't going to kill me with secondhand smoke. Wait a minute." She bent over the side of her chair to fish in her attaché; then she dug something out of a pocket and threw it across the desk. "Here. Put it on."

"Where did you get this?"

"Linda gave it to me. She said you'd relapse sooner or later. Put it on."

"I don't need a patch. I only smoked one."

"She said you'd say that. Just put it on. Don't make me force you."

"Don't make idle threats." I threw the patch back to her. "Here--save this for Linda. She's the one who's going to relapse one of these days, you know. It's always the ones who talk the most who..."

"Speaking of talking, shut up," she said, intent on opening the patch pouch. It took her a second. Then she got up, patch in hand, and crossed to my chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to unbutton your shirt so I can stick this on. Let go. Don't make me break a nail."

"You let go. This shirt cost $46.50."

"My manicure cost more than that. So I win." She got a good purchase on the third button; I pushed her off it just in time. "Dammit, Devvy, I got no sleep. Don't fight me, or I'll..."

At that moment, the office door opened abruptly, and both of us froze in horror. This had to look really, really bad. Cassie was half in my chair; my shirt was half unbuttoned; and she'd dropped the patch in the struggle, so there was no obvious, ready explanation at hand.

Worse, the person who'd just walked in was Connie the Barbarian.

Cassie let go of my shirt as though it were on fire. I released her hands as though they were tarantulas.

"Didn't think you were home," the Barbarian said. "Sorry. I knocked."

What with one thing and another, we hadn't heard. Oh, yeah, this looked bad, all right.

Cassie went back to her own chair, scowling fiercely, while I rebuttoned my shirt. Neither of us said a word.

"Got your invitations to the Halloween party," the Barbarian explained. "Mr. J wanted 'em hand-delivered. Fill out the RSVP part and send it back to Sanchez by Friday."

"On my desk," I said coldly. "Hers, too."

The Barbarian lobbed two invitations over and then leaned back against the mail cart, grinning. She was wearing so much Brut that it stung my eyes from 10 feet away.

"Is there something else?"

"You tell me, Kerry. How long've you two been going on?"

Outraged, I almost tipped my chair over. "What?"

"C'mon, you can tell. I won't squeal."

"There's nothing to squeal about. You didn't see what you think you saw. Cassie was just trying to..."

"Yeah, I bet she was." The Barbarian winked at me--for real this time. "Well, don't sweat it; I can keep a secret."

Then she winked at Cassie, which enraged the woman, who was already cranky enough. She blasted the Barbarian with her heaviest ammunition, calling her everything but a child of God, and then threatened her with several kinds of death, all of them bad. The details all but blew my hair back.

But the Barbarian didn't scare, apparently; she just kept grinning. She was also looking down the front of Cassie's dress.

"Get out," I snarled. "Now."

"Will do. See you at the bars."

The Barbarian winked at me again, leered at Cassie one last time, and ambled out.

I followed to make sure that she was gone and to close the door. My hands were shaking, so it took a couple of tries. Cassie, for her part, was the color of chalk.

"It may not be as bad as we think," I lied. "Even if she talks, nobody would believe her. Besides, that's not what really happened."

"Great. We know the truth. That'll be a lot of comfort when Kurt finds out."

"He may not find out. Who talks to her? But even if he does, he'll believe our version, because I'll fire him if he doesn't. People get fired around here for less all the time."

"He does like his job," she agreed.

"And if that doesn't work, I can always toss him a model."

"It could work."

"It'll have to work," I said grimly. "This can't get out."

We sat in tall silence for a moment. Then Cassie snorted. "Oh, come on--this is crazy. What are we guilty about? Nothing happened. Besides, we've got our reputations to protect us anyway. You're this well-known celibate monster..."

"...and you're not. Not celibate, I mean. You're right. We do have our reputations."

"Even though they're lies now."

"Even though they're lies."

Silence.

Finally, I picked up my pen again and reached for the script. "Maybe we should get back to this now."

No response; she was turning something over in her mind.

"Cass?"

"If you looked like that," she said, rather absently, "I wouldn't be seen dead with you."

"That would make two of us."

"It's not like I care if you're gay. But at least you don't look gay, or act gay, or..."

"Thanks."

"...smell gay." Seeing my failure to grasp her point, she added, "You don't wear aftershave."

I smiled at her. "One of my many virtues."

"Don't push it, Devvy. I'm already cutting you all the slack I can. You are sleeping with that...woman. So technically, you're in a gay relationship."

"Technically, hell. She's not a woman."

Cassie looked absolutely disgusted. "Of all the nonsense you've ever told me--and God knows you've told me enough to float a boat--this is the absolute..."

Someone knocked, for a change.

"Wait," I told her, and then called to the door, "In a meeting!"

The door opened anyway, and Jack popped his head in. "Afternoon, ladies--and I use that word in the very loosest way. Do I hear right, Dev? Is there news?"

"What news?"

"That's what I need to know. You've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"More like who I'm talking about. Who you've been doing."

My pen fell out of my suddenly nerveless grip and clattered on the desktop. Meanwhile, Cassie was coughing, for control. "What?"

"Who you're taking to the Halloween party, anyway."

"What?"

"You're usually more articulate than this, Kerry," Jack remarked. "Disappointing. But I'll overlook it this once, in exchange for information. So who are you taking?"

"I'm not taking anyone. But how would you know? I haven't even had a chance to send the RSVP upstairs. In fact, I just got the invitation. It's right..." Puzzled, I searched the desk. "It was here a minute ago."

"I just came from upstairs. You must be in parakeet mode again. I saw your RSVP in Sanchez's inbox. It says 'Devlin Kerry and date.' "

Cassie and I exchanged apprehensive glances. We didn't have to wonder; we knew.

"It's all over Four already. So who is it? C'mon--the party's at the Gold Club this year. Everything goes."

"I haven't sent the form back yet, Jack," I insisted. "Somebody must be playing a practical joke."

"In your handwriting?"

Cassie dropped her own pen.

"Whatever you've got must be catching," Jack commented. "So?"

He was clearly not going to give up, so I was going to have to tell him something, anything, just to get him to go away. "If there's anything to find out," I said carefully, "you'll find out at the party."

Jack smiled big, showing all his caps. "This is too good not to share. Gotta run." Which he did, almost literally.

"What is she up to?" Cassie asked, as the door slammed shut.

"I don't know. So far, only you and I can see her. What would be the point if nobody else can see her?"

"What if she can make them see her?"

I felt a cold skitter of panic. "Maybe she can't."

"I don't know why not. She's a witch."

"Demon."

"Witch. I don't like this. What if we get you a real date? That way..."

"There's no 'we' here, Cass. Don't get into any trouble you don't have to get into. This is my problem. I'll handle it."

"You've done a bang-up job up till now," she said dryly.

That stung. "I'm doing the best I can, dammit. It's not like there's any precedent for this situation."

"You have a bigger problem than precedent. You walk into the party with that woman..."

"She's not a woman."

"Stop that," Cassie snapped. "She has all the parts. What do you think people are going to see?"

Good point. I dropped my head onto the desktop and banged it a couple of times.

"Want me to do that for you? A lot harder?"

"You're right, Cass. You're right. I'm dead. This'll do it."

"It'll help." She sighed. "I tried to warn you about being celibate so long. I told you something bad would come of it. I don't know whether I can help you now."

"I don't need your help," I growled.

"You need all of my help you can get. I just don't know whether it'll be enough."

"What help can you possibly be? What are you going to do--drive a stake through her heart?"

"Something like that. If I decide to do it. I have to think about it first. But I might."

"Don't do me any favors."

"It won't be a favor," Cassie said.

Monica wasn't home when I got there, and she never appeared that night. Or the next. In fact, I wouldn't see her again for two weeks.

(c) 1999, ROCFanKat

Continued - Part 17