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Now don't get me wrong, Russian food is great, but sometimes this red-blooded American wants American food.I sure as hell hope Mabel keeps the stew warm – hell who am I kidding - I'd eat it even if it was frozen.We get inside and run into the basement. Jens opens the door, walks up to a security panel, checks it and comments, "Well now we know where the twins and their bratty brother were. They somehow got into the tunnels and were messing with one of the panels. Come on, we need to have a talk with them."Knowing Jens I figure she's still a little sore at the twin so I suggest, "Jens it might be better if we have Liz here too."Jens agrees, "Yeah, that's a great idea. After all they are her responsibility."We exit the tunnels, Jens closes the door and announces, "I'm setting the alarm." She pauses and questions, "That reminds me, I wonder who the hell turned off the alarm system and let the damn Columbian drug army in here without warning."I watch her press some more buttons on the. I mean, I feel like..." And she leaned her head into my chest as we sat on the edge of the bed, "I want ... more, I guess, but ... afraid I won't be able to stop."I thought back twelve years, and was almost shocked to realize the depth of the feelings I'd had then for my first love, and now it was Kaitlyn, not Jenna, who was causing them to come alive again. And it was a relief to understand that these were normal, natural feelings, nothing to cause shame or guilt, and somehow I knew that Jenna would have agreed. And somehow I could hear her in my mind, saying "Go ahead, tell her! And show her. But remember, go slow, like we did. And thank you, Rob." And I could almost see her smile as she turned and faded further into memory.Kay looked up at me then, and must have seen something, because she touched the corner of my eye with the tip of her finger, then drew it back with a single tear on it. "Oh, Rob, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." No, little one, it's not you, I mean, you didn't do.
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Other nights, though, he and Vicky were there by themselves, sometimes working on knives, sometimes not -- and some of the latter, though surprisingly little under the circumstances, was spent up very close and personal.Not a word had been exchanged between them on the subject, but somehow the agreement had been made that quality in their sex lives was more important than quantity. It didn't happen every night, or even every week, but every now and then the mood hit them right at about the same time. When it did, things got very memorable and satisfying.The only problem was sometimes Vicky was willing to get up and go home for the night, especially if they'd spent an afternoon enjoying themselves. However, if it happened later in the evening, it was more enjoyable for the both of them for her to spend the night with him, cuddled closely and warmly in each other's arms. That probably would have been a little easier if she had been living by herself in some distant city, but living.

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