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As ideas or thoughts about a project occurred to him, he would jot them down as soon as they occurred. Since his latest brainstorm seemed to be dead in the water, he had decided to go over his notes for the last few weeks in the hope that something would jog the right brain cell. Tossing the clipboard on his desk as he stood, he came around to hug his genius wife."My beautiful wife, you could never interrupt. What you have to say is always more important than my tinkering – as my wives are wont to call it – in the lab. What can I do for you, My Love?" he said as he pulled her into a hug, then locked his lips to hers.After a moment of a deep, open-mouth kiss, Helen pulled back a couple of inches, "Baby, I need to talk to..." and Jeff's mouth descended again as his hands slid under her top. Easing up her sides, only hesitating a moment when they encountered the underside of her breasts, he eventually slid higher until his thumbs contacted her nipples. With a feather touch, he drew. Clearly, if they're unconscious, then..." Sure, sure. What about blood?" What of it?" Should we clean it up?" Between rounds. Each round should be three minutes. Would you care to be timekeeper? I assume you are a fair man." Thank you," Goldsmith replied, somewhat underwhelmed by the compliment. "Referee?" Your man Schecter. I believe we can rely on him to be impartial."Goldsmith looked over at Schecter, now wearing a black allsuit and hardly distinguishable from the other Arks. "He seems one of you, now," he said."We offered him an allsuit. They are more comfortable than the clothes he arrived in." And one of your guns?" Ah, well, he offered some advice to one of our young recruits. In return, we offered him a gift. It is our way."Goldsmith scowled, suspicious. "I suppose Schecter would be acceptable. But, I think there ought to be a judge in all this - to ensure fairness." One from your side, one from ours. I shall be the casting vote as the quasi local authority in the area.".
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A long time ago. I can’t remember what…” Emma turned her head back to Tanya, clearly unsure how not to be rude to this woman. “What was it? King’s Cross? Time Square?” “Nothing as good as that,” Emma replied, clearly provoked by Tanya’s recollection of two low-ratings, high art sex dramas that she’d commissioned. “It was St. Denis Road. That was long before the scandal with the producer and that horse brought the series to an end.” “Well, I wasn’t really much of a viewer,” lied Tanya, who had a weakness for soap operas. “I’m sure she was very good in that.” “Not really,” said Emma, returning her gaze to a television set on the wall that screened the action on the set. Tanya judged that that was all she was going to get out of this conversation, so she discreetly left Emma to her own concerns. However, Tanya was nothing if not persistent. She made a point of greeting Emma whenever they passed on the corridor, which at first surprised Emma but to which she eventually became accustomed..

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