Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Night Shift

   "Abandon all hope ye who enter here" Florian, Flo to everybody who spoke
more than two words to him, often thought that it would be a nice motto for
the hospital he worked in.  He was an orderly.  Having left college without
a degree, he had finally found this job at the hospital.  It paid the rent
and that was the best part of it.  In his futile attempt to get a proper
education he had squandered all the college money his parents had left him.
With barely enough money to live on and a job that meant working on shifts
his love life was not worth mentioning.  None of the nurses he worked with
were interested or even interesting enough to deserve an effort.  As for
doctors or other employees, they mostly saw in him more a piece of
equipment then a human being.  He wasn't good looking enough to attract
attention even thou he had found that he could sort of talk women into
finding him sexy.  Whether his pheromones or his virile voice did the
trick, he didn't know nor did he care.  Then there was the darker side of
him.  He often brooded upon his sexual deviation, as he called it.  He
hated the label "fetish".  Yet he had one.  Recently he had found out it
was if not common, then at least wide spread.  Not that he was immune to
the normal stimuli like breasts, hips or a nice face, but without the extra
kick, he was near impotent.

   In room 10 there was a new patient.  She had just been moved there from
intensive care.  She still needed supervision, but the hospital was short
on money, which meant also short of personal, so their policy was to move
patients out of intensive care as soon as they were able to breathe on
their own.  The machinery was supposed to take care that nothing happened.
His job in such cases was to see after the patients every hour.  He took a
tour thru all the rooms in his responsibility, leaving number ten as the
last one.  All other patients were sleeping peacefully or reading, so he
finished quickly.

   He entered room number ten.  She was a young woman of maybe twenty-five.
Under the blanket he couldn't make out much.  If anything, he saw she had
medium sized breasts.  Her face was just a little puffy, but nice to look
at, even thou she had a big bruise on her forehead and her skull was partly
covered by a bandage.  He inspected her medical file that was attached to
the foot end of her bed.  Susan Borrows.  Car accident.  Brain surgery. 
Artificial coma.  He skipped the rest of the medical gibberish.  At least
he could see that she was drugged to give her brain a chance to recover and
otherwise doing nicely.  A note from a doctor mentioned they would keep her
under for at least another week.  He grew bold and lifted the blanket. 
Yes, she was a little overweight.  Not much, just enough to give her
broader hips and bigger breasts.  Well, he wasn't a fan of the skinny ones
anyway, but then he called himself to order.  Sizing her up like he wanted
to flirt with her was about the biggest nonsense he could think of under
the circumstances.  From experience he knew that in such cases it could
take weeks till the patient was fully aware of his surroundings.  Yet his
mind kept wondering.

   He checked her file again, this time the personals.  For all he could
find, no relatives, no friends no nothing.  From her file she must have
been a very lonely person.  Profession: Secretary.  Screening: no drugs. 
Enzymatic scan: alcohol consumption above average but still in the green
range.  Yes, he could imagine that.  A lonely girl, moderately attractive,
spends her evenings in front of the TV, having a drink or two, enough to
get her drowsy so she could sleep thru the night, but not enough to turn
her into an alcoholic.  Not yet at least.  A lot of candies or sweets to
keep her spirits up.  No boyfriend, hopefully.  Well, they had announced
her employer, but nobody had enquired about her, so chances were she didn't
even have a close friend.  He felt a sort of sympathy for her.  Except he
hated sweets and tended to underweight, they had much in common.

   Some wires were connected patches on her chest to the heart monitor and
a bottle with an infusion was suspended from a steel rod attached to the
bed.  He read the prescription on her file.  He would have to replace the
bottle with a full one now and then.  That stuff was her food for as long
as she was under sedation.  He checked blood pressure, heart beat and
oxygen saturation, all on the green, so he left her to settle in his
cubicle till it was time for the next round.  At least he had a terminal at
hand with Internet access, so he could surf a bit.  He would stay away from
the kinkier pages, as any access could be traced back to him, but the
keyword smoking seemed to be quite harmless, so he clicked around some
message boards on the topic of smoking and lovers of smokers.  Like always,
reading posts from smokers, mainly from females and from those who
worshiped them, left him only half satisfied.  He saw himself as an
underdog with the soul of a pack leader.  Not the kind who could have any
woman by just looking her into the eyes, his appetite was ten fold bigger
then his capabilities.  He had no talent for voyeurism.  He needed to get
involved personally, but how?

   Brooding over the keyboard, the only interruption being his hourly
round, slowly a still hazy concept evolved from passing thoughts.  He
visited number ten again.  This time he sniffed her breath carefully.  She
could use a teeth brush, but otherwise the clean breath of a non-smoker. 
No, definitely, if she had ever smoked, it must have been a long time ago.
Not a trace there.  Good.  His palms started itching.  Could it be done? 
He had read and heard enough about head surgery to know that selective
amnesia was quite common in cases of brain damage.  People would wake up
with an altered personality, sometimes having forgotten only a small
portion of their life or a certain aspect.  Sometimes even a close person
would have evaporated from their memory for ever, or a skill and he knew of
a case a heavy smoker had woken up as a complete non smoker and had never
again felt the need to smoke.  His addiction had vanished with a minuscule
part of his brain.  Then why not try the opposite?  She would be confused
enough to accept almost anything when she woke up.  Maybe he could convince
her she had been a closet smoker.  But even if he could make her try a
cigarette, she wasn't accustomed, she wouldn't like it.  Then he knew it.
In the one week she would be his responsibility at night, he must get her
addicted to nicotine.  When she would then try a cigarette, she wouldn't
get sick but enjoy it instead.  Her lack of routine in lighting or inhaling
could be explained by selective amnesia, as well the missing memories. 
Then another obstacle popped up on his mind.  Where had she been smoking?
Her apartment were hopefully she lived alone, just wouldn't smell of stale
smoke, like it should if she had been smoking at home.  Yes, a lot of
details had to be taken care of.  He would have to get hold of her keys
soon and go there to smoke in the apartment.  He would throw a few butts in
her dustbin.  He needed to get some ashtrays to spread them around.  That
called for a list.  One wrong step and she might find out the fraud.  This
would be his masterpiece.

   He had, back in college, supported girls who had been doubtful about
their smoking, he had manipulated a girl who tried to quit and managed to
make her give up the idea and he always tried to talk girls into dumping
Lights and Ultra Lights in favor of Full Flavored ones, with some success.
But this would go far beyond anything he had ever tried.  Who knows, he
might even succeed to become involved with her afterwards.  A girlfriend
whom he had turned into a smoker!  It sounded almost too good to be true.
But then one step after the other!  The first problem to solve was how to
get her hooked on nicotine.  Patches could help, but he discarded it again.
First, it was dangerous.  Someone on another shift may discover them. 
Besides, a slow and constant level of nicotine wasn't the best method.  He
had read anything he could find on the topic of nicotine addiction and had
found a thesis had sounded very reasonable.  The strong addiction of
cigarette smokers was partly due to the sudden absorption thru the lungs.
The nicotine level swooped up with every inhale and it was that kick the
brain got addicted on.  Cigar or pipe smokers that didn't inhale never
experienced that kick, so they wouldn't get addicted the same way cigarette
smokers were.  The perfusion!  An intravenous afflux of nicotine should
have a similar impact like an inhale!  He would simply feed a succession of
increasing doses of nicotine into her perfusion.  That left no traces.  He
would have to tamper a bit with the monitors thou.  Each shot of nicotine
was bound to increase her heartbeat and blood pressure.  It would take some
experimenting.  Yet, with a little luck, he might be able to simulate the
steps a first time smoker would take.  Every day an increasing amount of
nicotine till her body got used to it.  He would do this till she would
wake up or even beyond.  Then he would see if she had cravings.  Well,
first things first.

   The problem he had to solve now was where to get nicotine in liquid
form. Then it was the question of dosage.  He had no idea how to correlate
the concentration of liquid nicotine to the usual cigarette smoke.  After
hours of searching he found a table on the Internet.  Still he needed to
get nicotine base in liquid form.  He very much doubted he could find it in
a drugstore or pharmacy.  After all nicotine was a strong poison.  Then he
decided to give it a try.  He had once overheard a conversation between two
doctors about nicotine substitution and thought he remembered that one of
the guys had dug up a vial of nicotine base.  Maybe he had left the bottle
in the "poison chamber" that held the dangerous stuff, including morphine
and coke.  It was worth trying and he was indeed lucky.  Hidden behind
other weird stuff he found the bottle.  It was too dangerous to take it
away, so he simply poured the content into an empty prescription bottle and
replaced the liquid with plain water.  Should anybody find out it had no
effect he would probably assume the nicotine had degenerated.  Back to room
ten he made a first run.  He switched off the alarms of the monitor and
injected her a small dose, the calculated equivalent of a tentative drag of
a first time smoker.  Immediately her heartbeat accelerated and the blood
pressure looped up.  He could see how her perspiration accelerated too. 
Fortunately he had calculated correctly.  Her vitals didn't rise to a
really dangerous level and after a few minutes the values normalized
somewhat.  Time for another shot.  The same effect.  Good.  He repeated the
procedure a couple of times till she had smoked an entire cigarette with
small shallow inhales, so to speak.  He judged that she really had never
been smoking.  Good.  She had enough for her first time and his shift ended
soon anyway.  All had gone surprisingly well.

   The next step now would be her apartment.  The guy who took care of the
belongings of patients worked on a nine to five schedule.  Driven by an
unusual foresight, Flo had managed to get hold of a master key.  Security
was lax anyway, with the chronic shortage.  No problem to open the storage
room, get hold of the wallet and keys of Susan and disappear without being
seen.  He went home to get a couple of hours of sleep.  He couldn't afford
to sleep in his tracks the next nights.  In the afternoon, he bought a box
of Marlboro Reds 100.  This was the cigarette that appealed most to him. 
He loved to see the long cork tip held between delicate fingers ending in
painted fingernails.

   He found the address easily.  It was an old apartment house, not very
well kept, meaning moderate rents, but not yet decayed.  The building
seemed almost deserted.  It was too early for people working on a normal
eight-hour schedule.  He slipped in and went directly to her apartment on
the second floor.  A quick glance around and he sneaked in.  The room
smelled like it needed airing badly.  Nobody had been here.  No pets. 
Good. He sensed the faint smell of female sweat and some other indefinite
odors, maybe from used clothes she hadn't have a chance to wash.  No trace
of cigarette smell.  That had to be changed.  He had brought a small rubber
ball with him that would help him "smoke up" a couple of cigarettes.  It
wouldn't do to just let them burn, as he wanted the filter to turn brown.
It was out of the question to smoke them himself.  He had never even tried
and had no intention to do so.  He used the rubber ball meant for
extracting battery liquid from a car battery to pump on the cigarettes,
till the filter had just the right coloring.  He had also brought a number
of ashtrays.  He "smoked" up ten cigarettes this way and as he didn't dare
to open a window, his eyes were watering, yet he loved the smell, he had
always loved the smell of cigarette smoke.  He placed the dirty ashtray in
the kitchen sink and threw the butts in the small bin below.  He placed
other ashtrays in her tiny bedroom, in the bathroom and even one on her
small balcony.  The broken in box of Marlboros found its place on top of a
cardboard.  Now her apartment looked and smelled like it had been inhabited
by smoker.  He left to change for work.

   On his way home he had the idea to get duplicates of her keys.  Maybe
the smell of those ten cigarettes wasn't enough.  It might wear out till
she would be able to return home.  Also he had forgotten an important
aspect.  Lighters!  The one he had used to light up the cigarettes was
still in his pocket.  He ran to a key shop and got the duplicates.  The
night was as quiet as the one before.  He would now make her "smoke" a
cigarette every two hours and increase the dose each time.  His hands
trembled with apprehension when he injected the first shot.  Like the night
before, her heartbeat and blood pressure rose, same as her breath.  In
intervals of around fifteen seconds he gave her the shots.  Good.  Nothing
really bad happened.  There still was one unsolved problem.  Even if he
could persuade her to try a real cigarette, her throat might hurt and she
most probably just wouldn't know how the mechanics of smoking worked.

   Towards the end of his shift, he had fed her six virtual cigarettes.  He
wasn't really sure, but the increase in blood pressure and heartbeat seemed
a bit lower towards the end.  Hopefully her system had already started to
adjust.  This could be sheer luck.  He knew that some people for whatever
reason took up smoking easily, being able to smoke regularly almost from
the start, while others fought with nausea and dizziness for weeks on end,
till they adjusted or gave up.  On his way home, after he had returned her
belongings to the storage, the idea hit him.  He had at home two items that
may prove to be the solution.  He had once bought some specialized videos
featuring women smoking cigarettes.  They hadn't particularly impressed
him. But there was one disk that contained a unique chapter.  It was filmed
with a camera that had been somehow fixed on the forehead of a woman.  The
perspective was the one a smoker had when smoking.  Even better, opposite
the woman carrying the cam sat another one who smoked too.  If somebody
needed a demonstration of how smoking worked, this was the ideal tape.  All
the movements of dragging, inhaling, holding, exhaling were expertly
demonstrated.  The second item was a display helmet, in fact more like some
protective spectacles.  It contained two tiny displays, one for each eye
and could be attached to a DVD player or TV-set.  He would simply seat the
helmet on her head and play that smoking movie.  It would look to her like
she was smoking herself.  He knew that patients in an artificial coma would
sometimes have faint memories of what they heard while unconscious.  Maybe
that worked with images too.  He had seen her eyelids flutter sometimes
under the effect of the nicotine.  He had to try it.  He all but emptied
his account to buy a portable DVD player.

   He decreased the interval between two virtual smokes to sixty minutes
now and her body seemed to take it no worse then the day before.  Good.  He
couldn't be sure, but he had the impression that showing her the images
while he fed her the nicotine had some effect.  Her fingers twitched
slightly and her hands moved a little. N That she might still have problems
inhaling real smoke when and if she would smoke a cigarette kept nagging on
him.  Then he remembered an add on one of the smoker sites he had been
visiting in cyberspace.  What if?  Could it work?  It would mean taking
enormous chances and it would also mean he would have to stretch his credit
at the bank.  Then he decided to throw all his eggs in one basket.  Ever
since he had started his little experiment he had felt better than in ages.
He had slept well and his usual depressive mood had evaporated.  He
searched the web till he found it.  The add said it was the perfect air
purifier.  It would enable the customer to smoke in a smoke free
environment without leaving a trace of smoke.  The package consisted of a
small purifier, some tubing and a transparent plastic tent big enough to
cover the head and rump of the smoker.  The purifier would absorb all the
air and smoke from under the tent, clean it up and blow it out in the room
odorless, while pumping fresh air under the tent to replace the absorbed
smoke.  The manufacturer guaranteed that no trace of smoke could be smelled
outside the plastic hood.  It would cost him a small fortune, but it seemed
worth the effort.  With the help of this machine he would be able to make
the woman breath in real cigarette smoke, without making her room smell of
it.  Without hesitation he ordered it.  The manufacturer guaranteed 24h
delivery, so he would have at least four days to get her used to real
smoke. He still had to devise a way to feed her cigarette smoke, but that
seemed easy.  He needed an oxygen mask and a length of tube.  A little
valve might be helpful too.

   His shift ended and he snatched an oxygen mask and other tidbits he
hoped would be helpful from the supply room.  At home he was too excited to
sleep.  He started to build the smoking mask.  He chose a tube that could
hold a cigarette.  He always kept cigarettes at home in the vain hope he
might be able to help out a visitor, preferably female, who ran out of
cigarettes.  Now they came very handy.  He found a tube that had the right
diameter.  Then he took a little adjustable three-way valve and attached
the tube to it.  Its purpose was to allow for modifying the ratio between
air and smoke.  Without it, the undiluted smoke might choke her.  Next came
the one-way valves.  One that would stop her from blowing into the
cigarette instead of sucking the smoke out, the other to allow her to
breath out but not in.  With the help of adhesive compound he attached all
these pieces to the mask.  The last part was the most difficult one.  He
would have to break a principle of his and accept some very nasty side
effects, yet he saw no other way.  He had to test the mask on himself. 
Most of all he had to adjust the three-way valve for the optimum air/smoke
ratio.  The he remembered something and inserted a second three-way valve
in the holder tube.  It wouldn't do to make her inhale with every breath so
the additional valve would bypass the cigarette entirely.

   He gathered all his courage and after the fumes of the adhesive had
evaporated, he decided it was time for the trial.  He discarded the thought
of using herbal cigarettes.  It had to be Full Flavored ones, the same he
had left at her apartment and the same he would use on her.  He had only
once puffed on a cigarette before, without inhaling.  He had simply no idea
what it would be like.  Yet to feel what a smoker feels when smoking was
enticing.  He pushed the elastic strap over his head and placed the mask in
position.  He breathed a little, to see how it felt.  Without a cigarette
in the tube, he had no difficulty breathing.  Then something occurred to
him.  He would have to somehow protect her nostrils.  Breathing in smoke
thru the nose didn't seem appropriate to him.  For now it would have to do.
He could consciously breathe thru the mouth only.  With trembling hands he
took a Marlboro Red from the package and fixed its cork end into the tube.
The he took the lighter and fired it.  He had enormous difficulties to
place the flame at the end of the cigarette.  Then with determination he
inhaled.  Nothing.  Then he remembered the valves.  He closed the one that
was meant to bypass the cigarette entirely.  Then he chose the middle
position for the mixing valve.  Inhale.  He tasted the smoke.  Bitter, but
bearable.  He had expected worse.  Exhale.  Smoke filled the mask and
billowed out of the exhaust valve.  It tickled down the throat but not
much. He had expected to choke or gag or get sick, but he felt close to
nothing.  Holding his breath, he closed the mixing valve a bit more. 
Another inhale.  This time he felt it.  The blood rushed to his head.  He
felt dizzy.  The sensation wasn't bad, thou.  At most he grew
uncomfortable, but just a little.  He exhaled and he could see the smoke
was denser.  Then he opened the bypass to catch his breath.  He counted
four in out cycles then closed the bypass and inhaled, this time as deep as
he could.  He didn't gag, but he could feel the rasp on his throat. 
Somehow it felt pleasant.  Maybe a bit like from a menthol candy, even thou
the cigarettes had no menthol in them.  The rush to his head was stronger
now.  He felt a touch of nausea.  Still, he couldn't and wouldn't stop now.
He would finish off the cigarette like a man!  He had often felt less
virile in front of girls for not being a smoker, like those muscle-ridden
schoolmates of his that would smoke, drink, swear and get all the girls. 
Damn!  He had to finish this.  So he did.  He grew dizzier and to room
tended to slide to one side and he was sick like a dog, but he didn't have
to puke.  To his utter surprise he found that even with all the nausea, he
had a hard one.  He took off the mask and stubbed out the cigarette that
had burnt down to the filter.  The nausea passed quickly and he felt
elated. He had survived and smoking his first cigarette had proved to be
quite pleasant at times.  He still had a hard one and he went to the
bathroom and jerked off.  The taste of the smoke in his mouth and his
pounding heart inspired him.  Now he knew how a girl who started smoking
felt!

   As soon as the air purifier arrived, he would use the mask on Susan. 
She would smoke several cigarettes each night in her sleep.  When she would
wake up, she would be ready.  He could only hope she would develop cravings
strong enough to make her wonder what's amiss.  With a bit of luck, he
might get friendly with her and drop a hint or too.  He rubbed his palms.
The nausea had disappeared leaving behind a state of excitement.  Now he
understood the fascination of smoking much better.  Maybe one day...  But
no!  He wouldn't.  Not him.  He yearned to live on second hand smoke.  That
would have to be enough.  Maybe share one after sex, or share smoke during
kissing.  That might be a pleasant experience.  But he would never actively
smoke himself.  To his surprise the air purifier arrived that very day.  He
unpacked it to give it a try.  He attached all the tubes and plugged the
cord of the purifier into the wall.  He spread the plastic bag over the
table and propped it up in the inside with some books.  He took a cigarette
and lit it, carefully avoiding to inhale.  Then he left it smoldering in an
ashtray under the plastic bag.  It worked.  Even with his nose stuck into
the exhaust of the purifier he could smell nothing.  Good.  Then something
else struck him.  The plastic bag was way too small.  He couldn't squeeze
in and operate the valves.  Now what?  Then it came to him!  Yes, of
course! An oxygen tent!  They had lots of them.  All he had to do was to
attach the tubes of the purifier to it.  He dismantled the original bag and
stashed away the purifier and the tubes in his backpack.  After a detour to
Susan's apartment, to fetch two packs of cigarettes from the carton he had
left there and to deposit some lighters, he arrived at the hospital to
begin his shift.  To his dismay there was some activity going on, obviously
a crisis of one of the other patients that had sat in while he was away. 
He could just visit Susan and wait for things to calm down so he would
remain alone and undisturbed.

   He had to wait an hour till the doctors decided to move the critical
patient to intensive care.  He was alone again and could start!  He fetched
an oxygen tent from the supply room.  The tubes from the air purifier
fitted perfectly to the tent, so no problem there.  He carried the
equipment to room number ten.  Then he spread the tent over her bed and
attached the purifier.  He switched it on and armed with his visor, the DVD
player, smoking mask and the cigarettes he crawled under the tent.  He
fixed the mask on her face.  Then he placed the visor over her eyes.  He
lit a cigarette and attached it to the mask.  So far so good!  He started
the smoking clip and closed the bypass on the mask.  Her breath was pretty
shallow, as it was normal for her condition, but finally the cherry of the
cigarette started to glow.  She was taking in the smoke!  Instantly he had
a hard one.  As best as he could he stretched to watch the monitor.  He
could barely make out the display beyond the transparent plastic sheet of
the tent, but then he saw her values weren't rising not even to the level
they had with the intravenous nicotine.  So she could take a bit more. 
Good!  He opened the bypass and adjusted the mixing valve to allow for a
denser smoke.  This did the trick.  He could see how her heartbeat speeded
up.  He started the player to project the smoking images.  While he watched
the clip on the display of the player, he tried to synchronize the bypass
with the movements of the woman in the clip.  To his surprise Susan
obviously did something similar.  She would breathe in when the woman in
the clip would inhale, exhale at the same time and even make sucking moves
with her lips, like she tried to drag on a non-existent cigarette.  This
was beyond his expectations.  So the optics had done it!  Susan would most
probably act like a long time smoker if he could talk her into lighting up
a cigarette.

   Happy about the success he decided he would be bold and make her smoke
another cigarette.  He restarted the clip and fed her a second cigarette. A
look at the monitor reassured him.  Her vitals were still OK.  He would
have loved to stay with her, but he had his duties.  God forbid something
happened to another patient!  Reluctantly he removed the tent, just in case
someone would drop in, but he hid it behind her bed, as he planned to use
it about every hour.  He left the purifier switched on, as the smoke under
the tent hadn't been totally removed.  He would have to wait a while after
he had made her smoke next time.  With all his technical helpers stashed
out of sight, he started for his round.

   That night he had managed to feed her twelve cigarettes and judging by
her vitals, she had reacted just fine.  Her body accepted the nicotine
quite naturally.  At home another idea popped up.  He would build a double
holder so he could make her smoke more in the same interval of time.  His
goal was to reach at least a pack of cigarettes each night.  That, so he
hoped, would leave her with serious cravings, strong enough to make her
seek relief which he than would provide.  He wondered if she wouldn't
suffer from cravings already during the day, when nobody was giving her
nicotine.  Then he had another of his brilliant ideas.  At the beginning of
his shift he had always found a supply of perfusion bottles prepared for
him.  He always tried to be nice to his colleagues, so he replaced the
bottles he had used up with fresh ones.  Why not adding nicotine to the
infusion?  If he did it with great care nobody would notice the small
puncture in the rubber plug of the bottle.  This way she would get her
nicotine during the day too.  A bottle would empty in about two hours, so
he would add the equivalent of four cigarettes to each bottle.

   In the night he continued feeding her cigarettes, this time using the
double holder, so he managed to feed her a whole pack.  Additionally he
added nicotine to all the bottles waiting to be fed to her veins.  Having
achieved all he had proposed, he could sleep thru the day now.  In the
afternoon he decided to test the air in her apartment.  When he entered her
living room he immediately found he needed to add some more smoke.  He
wanted to start but to his dismay he found he had forgotten the rubber
ball. What was there to do?  Reluctantly he admitted he had no choice as to
smoke himself.  Well, what the heck, he thought.  I did it once, I can do
it again.  And he lit a cigarette.  To his total surprise he didn't feel
any of the side effects of the first time.  It occurred to him that he had
gotten quite a load of second hand smoke under the tent while feeding
Susan. So he enjoyed his cigarette and then decided to light another one.
On second thoughts, he lit four cigarettes and left them to burn down on
their own.  He would throw the butts away.  The second cigarette went a
little to his head, but no nausea.  Well, he had done it and could leave
for work.

   In her file he found a remark from her doctor: Over all progress very
good. Heart beat and blood pressure slightly increased.  Cease of sedation.
Start of liquid nutrition. He looked at her.  Yes, she had a rosy
complexion.  She moved in her sleep.  Now what?  Even if his treatment had
been successful and she would wake up with strong cravings, it would be
difficult if not impossible to make her smoke in bed.  He could not go on
feeding her nicotine thru the perfusion.  The perfusion had been removed
while he was away.  The best thing he could hope for was that the cravings
would last till he found a way to make her smoke cigarettes.  He could use
the tent and the air purifier, but how would she react.  Let's wait and
see, he said to himself.

   When he came back after an hour, still not sure what his next move might
be, he found her awake. 'Hello there.  You've cared to join us?  Welcome
back among the living.' He tried to sound as friendly as he could.  She
cleared her throat and had some difficulty speaking at first. 'Hi.  Where
am I?  What happened' Good!  He was the first person she would talk to. 
That always had a strong impact on somebody who awoke from a coma, even
thou it could backfire.  'Oh, you don't remember much, do you?' 'No, not
really.  Did I have an accident?' 'Yes.' 'Am I hurt badly?' 'Well, let me
put it this way.  It's been close, but you're much better now.  You will be
your old self again soon.  No permanent damage.' Liar!  If I'm lucky
enough, you will at least have a new habit.  He grinned inwardly. 'Ugh, my
head is killing me.' She felt for the bandage on her head.  'I've been hurt
here.' 'Yes, I'm afraid so, but you needn't worry.  They have kept you
under sedation for a while, so the wound would heal better.  Everything's
fine now.  With luck you'll be jogging around this place in a couple of
days.' 'For the moment I would be happy if I could use the restroom on my
own.' 'Well, I can help you with that one, that's what I'm here for.  I'm
sorry that there is no female nurse here right now.' 'Oh!  I thought you're
a doctor.' 'No.  It flatters me you took me for one, but no, I'm just the
slob that does the dirty work at night.' she smiled. 'Well then, nurse, can
you help me to the restroom?' 'I'm not sure you're supposed to walk on your
own yet.  Besides, after more than two weeks on tube feed you'll lack the
strength.' 'Too bad.  I'd hate to use a bedpan.  I remember...  Hey, I
remember how I hated that when I had my appendicitis.' she looked puzzled.
'Funny, I guess I've lost my memory or a part of it...' 'Don't fret about
your memory.  It'll come to you.  I cases like yours it's quite common to
have a temporary amnesia.' he tried to sound reassuring.  In fact he hoped
she would never recover her memory completely.  Else she might yet realize
she never had been a smoker and his plan might fail. 'Hey, I have an idea.
I'll fetch you a wheel chair.  That way we'll manage to get you to the
toilet.' 'That would be nice.' When he returned she had fallen asleep
again. She didn't sleep well, thou.  He waited patiently till half an hour
again she woke up. 'Yellow cab at your service, ma'm.' she laughed and with
joint forces they managed to get her to the bathroom and back.  'Thank you.
It's good to know I can do that.  You were right, I'm terribly week, but
'Ill fight that.  I hate to stay helpless in bed.' 'I'm sur you'll make it.
Is there anything else I can do for you?' 'I'm not sure.  Now that I'm
awake, I feel a strange need to do something, but I don't know what that
would be.  It's like being hungry or thirsty, but it's neither of them.  My
throat is sort of dry and my palms and soles are itching.  Do you think
that comes from the accident?' 'I wouldn't really know.  I'm just a male
nurse.  It maybe connected to your injury but then it can also be something
entirely different.' he knew or hoped he knew what it was.  Cravings!  'And
you really don't know what it is?' ' No.  But then I don't seem to remember
much anyway.  It's all very hazy...' her voice trailed off like she already
had something else on her mind.  'No, that can't be...  Yet...' she kept
murmuring to herself like she wasn't sure whether her memory was accurate
or played tricks on her.  Clouds of bafflement, then determination, again
doubt and anger chased each other on her face.  Then she raised her face
towards him again. 'Forgive me, but I think I'm taking up too much of your
time.' 'Oh no, not at all.  I love the night shift because it's always very
quiet.  I can stay here for at least another hour.  My beeper here informs
me of any emergency.' She smiled at him. 'Oh thank you.  It's very kind of
you to stay with me.' Then she fell into her former cycle of doubt fear and
confidence again.  Finally she raised her voice again 'I think I'm going
crazy.  There are two memories in my head that fight each other.  On the
one hand I'm sure I never picked up a certain habit.  Yet I also recall
having the habit.  It's almost like I remember how it felt.' she fell
silent again. 'Oh that?  I've read it's not uncommon to feel that way in
your condition.  Can you tell we what it is?  Maybe I can help.' it took
him quite some self-control to keep his excitement out of his voice.  'Oh,
I don't know.  Maybe I have the habit and it's not something I'd want
others to know.  It isn't something to be proud of.' she looked away, like
she was a bit ashamed.  'I got to do something about this dry throat of
mine.  Can I have a drink?' 'I'll fetch you some tea.  I must apologize.  I
haven't been prepared for you to wake up.' 'Oh, you don't have to excuse
yourself.  Yes, tea would be fine.' He ran to the tiny kitchen and took a
thermos flask and a cup.  When he returned he found her asleep again.  She
fidgeted in her sleep and after about ten minutes she woke up again.  He
gave her a cup of tea.  She gulped it down thirstily. 'Thank you.  That was
good.' a pensive look towards him.  'Still, I miss something else.  If only
I knew what.  My throat still is kinda dry and now and then a heat wave
passes over me.  I'm unsettled and restless.  You have any ideas?' 'From
the way you describe it...  I know what makes me feel that way, but I don't
believe that applies to you.  No that, can't be.' he felt he had to
approach the subject very carefully. 'Then tell me, what is that?' 'Oh,
err, I really shouldn't.  I'm not proud of it.' 'Oh c'mon, please?' 'Very
well then.  I feel that way when I get cravings.' 'Cravings?  What kind of
cravings?' 'You know, for a fag.' 'A fag?  Oh, you mean a cigarette?  No
you can't mean that!' she looked angry now.  He couldn't help but to notice
how lovely she looked, now that she was awake.  The more he wanted his plan
to work out.  She had lost some weight and apart from a certain
haggardness, she looked very sexy, as much as woman clad in a hospital
smock can look like anything.  He could make out her slightly erected
nipples thru the thin fabric.  'Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to imply
anything.  I just how it feels when I, you know...' 'Oh, no, I'm not angry
with you.  I'm cross because I can't really get my memories in line.  It's
almost like I'm schizophrenic and one of the characters I'm impersonating
is a heavy smoking bad girl and the other the typical good girl.' 'You
can't be serious.  It would break my heart to find out there's two of you
in one body' he said, teasing her.  She laughed. 'You must be quite
desperate to flirt with a sick girl like me.' she teased back 'Well, you
shouldn't be that modest.  I can imagine that without that turban of yours
you have to carry some anti-person device all the time to drive off all the
admirers.' She blushed. 'You're doing me more credit than I deserve.  My
last boyfriend left me for a little redheaded one and I swear she didn't
look all that good.  That means I must look even worse.' 'No way, Susan. 
Oh sorry.  Hope you don't mind I call you that way.  I'm Florian.  Please
call me Flo like everybody.' 'Oh no, please call me Susan, Flo.' she fell
silent again.  Then after a while she whispered: 'Could it really be that I
was both a smoker and a non-smoker at the same time?' 'Well, you could have
been a closet smoker.  I have stumbled upon a message board on the web
where quite a number of people talk about that topic.  It's seems that even
in some couples it happens that one of them smokes secretly and his or her
partner doesn't even know about it.' 'So you think it is possible I smoked
secretly and played the non-smoker for the rest of the world?' 'Yes, that
may well be.' 'Weird...' she fell into a brooding mood.  He decided to
leave her alone for the rest of the nights.  He wanted her to recover
quickly.  During the rest of his hourly rounds he found her sleeping.

   He counted the hours till his next shift and even arrived half an hour
early.  The nurse from the day shift seemed eager to get home so he offered
to take over earlier.  This would give him some extra time to spend with
Susan. 'Hi, how are you today?' 'Oh, thank God you don't use that stupid we
and I'm fine thanks.  I managed to make a few steps on my own and see here,
no turban any more.' indeed she had a scarf on her head.  The bandage had
been removed.  My hair looks pretty punkish, but it'll grow again.' then a
cloud passed over her face.  'Yes, I'm fine, but I still have those
cravings as you call them.  I've asked the doctor, but he couldn't tell me
more then you already did.  I've asked him outright if it could be that I
have been a smoker and forgotten about it and he said weirder things have
happened to patients with brain damage.  So I'm in the same fix like
yesterday.  Except when I sleep, half the time I dream that I'm smoking. 
And mostly I dream I'm with another girl who smokes too.' Bingo!  He wanted
to cry out.  The video had worked.  'Wish there was a way I could find
proof for whether I did smoke or not.  Doctor says there's no blood test
for it and as for the lungs, he said that even after thirty years of heavy
smoking you couldn't really see that much on an X-ray.  Such a shame!' she
had chirped out happily at first, but towards the end she had more and more
taken up an angry undertone.  Time to offer help. 'Well, I might be able to
think of some little tests.  Nothing spectacular, but it may prove
helpful.' 'But the doctor said...' 'Yeah I know, but I wasn't thinking of
the medical side.' 'Then what?' 'Oh, circumstantial evidence.' 'Like?'
'Like looking into the purse you had upon you when you had your accident,
like when you get home you search the place you live in for cigarettes or
butts or other evidence.' 'Mmh...  I see.  That's not stupid.  Still... 
Well even if I find cigarettes in my purse or in my apartment, that's not
absolute proof.  It could be I was carrying them for somebody else, or
maybe I had visitors who smoked, or ...' 'Yes, that's true.  Still, there
is of course an almost foolproof test, only I hardly dare to mention
it....' 'Now don't play games with me.  I want to know!' 'OK, the easiest
way is to try and smoke a cigarette.' There!  He had said it. 'Are you
nuts! Here in a hospital?' she sounded real angry. 'Oh no wait, that's not
what I wanted to say.  I just meant it hypothetically.  Of course I didn't
suggest to do it here.' she still sulked and looked away. 'You asked, I
answered.  I mean that still is the only way.  If you never smoked, all
that will happen is that after a few drags you will get sick and you can
forget the whole thing.  Smoking a single cigarette doesn't do you any
harm. It takes weeks to start a nicotine addiction.  You wouldn't take any
chances by just trying.  If you are smoker, you will know it immediately
and you will simply enjoy your smoke.' he hoped he sounded convincing
enough.  She cocked her head and gave him an inquisitive look. 'Maybe you
are right.  But it will have to happen soon.  I just don't want to wait any
longer.  Still, I'm not sure I want to do it.  I'll think about that.  But
then tell me, do you smoke?' tough one.  He had smoked only a couple of
cigarettes so far.  He thought he could pose as a smoker, but would it be
advisable?  Then on an impulse: 'Yes, I'm afraid I am.' 'Strange, I would
have expected to smell it on you.' 'Oh, well, I don't really smoke that
much.' 'Mmmh, so you're the kind of smoker I could tolerate.' she yawned.
'I'm afraid I'm still pretty weak.  Our little talk has drained me.  Sorry,
but I could use a nap.' 'Oh, forgive me I've I have tired you.' this caused
her to smile.  She really had a nice smile. 'Oh, c'mon, I enjoyed talking
to you.  You're practically the only human being here.  All the others
treat me like a patient but not like a human.  Yaiks!  We'll do this, we'll
do that, we'll go pee, we will eat.  They don't even listen when you tell
them something.  But now I really need to sleep.' He left her alone and
went to his cubicle.

   The hours passed painfully slow in between his rounds.  At five in the
morning he found her awake. 'Hey, I thought you needed some sleep?' he
greeted her. 'Oh, well I guess I had enough so far.  Remember, I've
overslept two full weeks.' 'True enough.  Can I do something for you?'
'Well I've done some thinking mostly about what you said before and I think
you're right.  Tell you what.  Can you go fetch my purse?' 'Be back in a
minute.' He ran at his top speed to the storage room and back to her bed.
He had brought two packs of Reds 100 and some disposable lighters with him
that day.  Hastily he tore one pack open, extracted a couple of cigarettes
and stuffed it into her purse together with a lighter.  Good that he had
thought of the cigarettes.  Back to her room he handed her the purse.  She
opened the zipper and stared in disbelief at the pack of cigarettes. 'That
can't be.' She shook her head.  'I still see myself as a determined
anti-smoker...  But then my fingers are itching and my throat longs for
it...' she stared at the purse.  'You said you smoke yourself.  Is there a
place here where smokers go when they need a cigarette?' 'Oh, there's a
balcony at the end of the hall.  That's where I go.' Liar!  That's where
you would if you were a smoker. 'You think we could sneak out and make the
test?  Those cravings you talk about torment me all the time.  I need to
find out.  Will you help me?' 'You do try me, you know that.  If anybody
finds out I'll loose my job.' 'Oh please, I won't tell anybody.  Please,
please.' she begged folding her hands.  'OK.  I must be crazy to do this,
but all right.  Can you get into that wheel chair?' 'Why?  I can walk!'
'Yes, I know you can walk, but it's regulations.  If anybody sees us, it's
better that way.' She gave in and he wheeled her to the balcony.

   It was the ideal place for a nightly escapade.  A high balustrade made
of concrete surrounded it.  Nobody would see anything from below. He pushed
her chair near a bench alongside the wall.  There was an empty but stained
ashtray there, proof that this was indeed someone's smoking place.  She
held the purse in her lap for a while, lacking the courage to do it.  Then,
with a sigh, she extracted a cigarette and placed it between her lips.  Her
hand shook slightly from suppressed emotion when she fired the lighter and
held the flame to the tip of the cigarette.  As if she had done this all
her life she dragged on the cigarette and inhaled in one smooth move.  She
held down the smoke for a while like she expected something to happen. 
Then she released the smoke slowly thru her half opened lips.  Flo sat
there transfixed.  She mastered it like a pro.  She took another drag and
without waiting to exhale she talked straight at him, engulfing him with
the smoke: 'Gosh, it's true.  It feels so damn good!  You were right.  I
must be a smoker.  I feel my cravings vanish.' She took another drag,
longer this time. 'Mmmmh, that's delicious.' She exhaled a long and dense
stream.  The cherry of her cigarette grew longer from her thirsty drags. 
Flo felt a heat wave flow over his entire body.  He had to double down to
hide the bulge in his pants.  It paid off!  She took up smoking as
naturally as she had been smoking all her life.  But he had to do something
against his excitement lest he would give himself away.  Maybe he would
tell her one day how he felt about women smoking, but it was a long way to
that moment.  Then it came to him naturally.  He would smoke a cigarette
alongside her. 'Oh, I'm sorry to ask, but could I have a cigarette?  I
forgot mine on my desk.' She gave him a happy look. 'Yes, by all means,
help yourself.' She extended the package.  'This way I won't feel so
awkward.' He took the cigarette and accepted a light from her.  It made him
a little dizzy, but at the same time he could feel the knot in his stomach
dissolve.  With every drag he relaxed more, till he regained his
self-control and could make his dick shrink.  She had finished her
cigarette in a very short time.  Now she played a bit with the pack.  Then
with some resolution in her voice she said: 'What the heck!  I can as well
have another one.  I won't have another opportunity like this till tonight.
You are on duty tonight, aren't you?' 'Oh yes, certainly.  I've made a deal
with them.  I do the night shift exclusively.  Eight hours of night shift
every day.  It doesn't bother me.  They're happy and I'm happy.  Besides it
pays.' 'What about your girlfriend or your friends?' 'Nada.  I live alone.
I have only moved here recently.  All the friends I need I find in
cyberspace.  I have a terminal in the nurses room and in between my rounds
I can chat and surf or watch movies.  That's all I need.' 'Now you don't
mean to tell me a handsome guy like you has no girlfriend?' 'No ma'm.  I
don't.  It didn't work out for me.  Not yet.' 'I hope you're not a freak.'
She said laughing.  The cigarettes loosened her up and she sounded
cheerful. 'Nope, straight as a rope.  I'm hetero all right.  Not that it
did me any good.  Three month was the longest time I could hold on to a
girl.  And the last time was two years ago.' And that was the naked truth,
he thought.  He started to like the turn their conversation took. 'Poor
guy. You deserve better.' 'Thank you, you're too kind.  I hope you pardon
me if I'm indiscrete, but what about you?' 'Oh, pretty much the same.  I
don't remember it exactly that way, but probably I feared someone might
find out my little secret.' She pointed up her cigarette.  'Anyway, I've
lived pretty much like a nun most of the time.  And one night stands aren't
on my wish list.' 'Know what you mean.  I couldn't do that either.' She
finished off her second cigarette and yawned. 'Sorry.  Guess I could use
some more sleep.' She said 'It will do you good.  Sleeping always helps the
healing process.' 'Let's hope so.  I want to get out of here as soon as I
can.  It's so boring.' He thought of something.  If he was cunning
enough... He had a sizeable collection of DVDs at home and also he had
bought a new computer recently.  It would take one hell of an effort, but
with luck he could do it...  He had the visor and the Player, but all
depended on whether she was a movie fan like him.  'I can imagine that. 
Tell me something, do you like to watch movies?' She smiled. 'Do I like
movies?  I'm addicted.  I never can get enough.  Wish I could afford more
channels.  Before this all happened I was on the verge of buying a DVD
player.  My old VCR broke down and I thought of replacing it with a DVD
player.  I can as well rent disks instead of tapes.' 'Then I might be able
to help.  I love movies too and I even have a brand new portable player. 
The screen's too small to really enjoy a movie, but I have a visor.  If you
put that one on, it's like you're in the first row of a movie theater.  You
can have it tonight.  Hope you'll like the movies I have.' 'That would be
so sweet of you.  Thank you so much.  Don't worry about the movies. 
Anything except X and B-rated action movies will do.  I love them all.'
'Well it's settled then.  Wanna go back to your room?' 'Yes please.'

   At home he started to work on a movie.  He had the idea to insert single
frames with smoking related pictures.  The so-called subliminal perception.
He had no idea if it would have any effect on her, but he wanted to try it.
After sweating for two hours he managed to bring together a reasonable
result.  He watched the movie and he could see no difference, except he
indeed felt like lighting a cigarette.  Very good!  The movie would help
keeping her cravings up.  He needed to get some sleep.

   When he gave her the gear that night he got a peck from her.  He almost
got a hard one.  He was getting involved faster then he wanted.  What if
would fall in love with her, but she wouldn't want him?  All the effort for
nothing!  But there wasn't anything he could do about it.  Either she liked
him or not.  Sexual attraction wasn't something one could achieve.  It was
there or not.  That much he had learnt and the hard way too.

   Once, in high school, he had dated the girls of his dreams.  She was
brilliant, beautiful and her body was the incarnation of the original sin.
They were both very young and inexperienced.  They dated, they started
kissing and they almost made it into bed.  Yet, while she really liked him,
it seemed to him she never got really hot.  She accepted his endearments,
but she was somewhat passive.  Then one day he saw her with another guy. 
She denied anything was going on, but then, two days later, he stumbled
upon the two engaged in a hot embrace, lips glued two each other and hands
in hidden places.  It took him two years to recover.  The pain was buried
deep down, but he would never forget how it had felt.

   Susan insisted on watching a movie right away, so he left her.  After an
hour or so he had just finished his second round of the night when she
buzzed him. She was already sitting in the wheelchair.  Her face looked a
bit hot.  Obviously she really had enjoyed the movie, the part she had seen
anyway. 'Now I know why I'd rather watch movies on tape or TV.  They don't
have smoking breaks in movie theaters.' She laughed.  'Now put the hammer
down, cabbie, no time to waste.' again she broke into a cheerful laughter.
He complied gladly, knowing where she was eager to go to.  On the balcony,
she immediately reached for her pack of cigarettes and smoked the cigarette
with long thirsty drags.  'Gosh, how I needed that!  I keep discovering new
sides to my character.  Obviously watching a movie makes want to smoke
badly.' she smoked incessantly, hardly pausing to breath in between drags.
The urge to kiss her, to crush her lips with his, to envelope her tongue
with his, to suck on her smoke ridden breath was almost too much.  Yet he
had to play cool.  A cigarette seemed the only possible remedy.  This time
he didn't have to beg for a cigarette as he had brought his own pack.

   'Hey cool, we smoke the same brand!' she exclaimed, seeing him take out
his pack of Reds.  Wouldn't you know baby!  He laughed inwardly.  'Oh yeas,
I've noticed that yesterday.' To his surprise, it was for her to make the
first move.  She extended a hand and started to stroke his cheek lightly.
'God Flo, I wish I were healthy.  You're the nicest guy I've ever met. 
Maybe, after I get out of here...' Flo blushed.  He couldn't help it.  He
felt a warm sensation engulf him.  It seemed an age ago since a girl had
been nice to him.  He couldn't bring out a word.  Instead, he took her hand
and kissed her.  The answer was an amused and slightly naughty smile from
her.  With a voice hoarse from emotion she whispered: 'Is that the best you
can do for a lonely girl?' then she leant over and with one hand behind his
head she pushed him till their lips met.  It was explosive!  Her soft lips,
her tongue moving expertly against his, so warm and moist, the smell of
cigarette smoke and the hand flat on his cheek!  He felt the soft pressure
of the cork end of the cigarette against his cheek.  His dick felt like
bursting.  They went on like that for a while.  He could feel her
excitement by the tremor of her shoulder.  It was so rewarding to know he
could make this woman get excited over him!  Finally they separated,
panting.  She looked into his eyes with the intensity he had seen only when
girls looked at their boyfriends.  Never had any girl before looked like
that at him.

   'Time for the cigarette after!' she exclaimed happily.  He had no option
but to join her.  They both lit up. 'Err, could it be that you've got
something wrong here?' 'What you mean?' 'Oh, err, about the after stuff.'
'What after stuff?' 'Well, you just talked about the cigarette after, but
we're still at the before.' She burst into a laughing fit.  'The one after
the before.  That's good.  I like that.' 'Well, not that I mind that you
smoke before, after the before, during or after the after.  Just thought
I'd put things right.' 'So you think I don't know the difference between a
kiss and a lay?' she said in mock rage.  'Let me tell you somth'n buster. I
may have lived in celibacy the last two years, but I'm not a virgin.  Don't
tell ME about before and afters!' 'Oh pardon me, Madam.' I didn't know I'm
dealing with a Kamasutra expert.  He made a mock bow.  'Don't you smartass
on me buster, I ain't nuthin' to do with no Carmer Sutter or whatever his
name is.  I'm just a plain old hooker.' they laughed again till they fought
for air.  Now he dared to kiss her again.  She met him half the way and
they kissed frantically.  'Wow, I never thought I'd start a romance in a
hospital!' she exclaimed cheerfully. 'Neither did I.  Does it bother you?'
'I wouldn't mind to start a romance on a dump if it were Mr.  Right.' She
lit another cigarette. 'I'm sorry to tell you Mr.  Right is on a
sabbatical. He sent me to keep his stool warm.' He tried to look as sober
as he could. 'Too bad!  You'll have to work hard to stand up to my
standards, Mister!' she chuckled.  'Madam, I will go out of my way.' This
was fun.  He felt better and better in her company.  'Now let's drop the
nonsense.' she said, sobering up.  'Promise me one thing.' 'Anything.'
'Don't joke on me stupid!  I mean it!  Just promise me you won't forget me
the day they kick me out of here.' He kissed her once more, trying to put
as much passion as he could bring up into the kiss. 'My silly Darling.  Do
you think I'm gonna simply let you walk away?  You will have to sue me for
stalking if you ever want to get rid of me.' She laughed, but her eyes
swam. When she spoke, her voice was weak with emotion. 'You're making fun
of me.' He decided to go dramatic and knelt before her.  Then he took her
hands in his, careful not to disturb her burning cigarette she held between
her fingers.  He dug for his most sincere voice. 'Look Susan.  I love you.
Sometimes I find it easier to joke around something serious, but I do mean
it.  Already I feel like I've known you all my life.  This is the first
time I've met a girl like you and I'd rather shoot myself than let you go.
Maybe it won't work out, but we have to give it a try.' No she was really
crying.  Between sobs, she gasped out: 'Oh my God, you're too good to be
true.  I had given up all hope prince charming would ever show up and now
you come along.  I'm so afraid I'll be disappointing you.  What if I prove
to be a miserable lover?  What if you'll hate my smoking?  What if I snore
in my sleep?  Why you haven't even seen my hair.' He took her in his arms.
'Hush, darling, don't cry.  You don't have to worry.  If your hair turns me
off, you can always dye it.  About love making, I guess I'm the one to
worry more.  Still I believe if we really love each other we will find a
way.  I doubt you snore.  Don't forget I had enough time to watch you
sleeping.  And last but not least, don't forget I smoke too, so you don't
have to fret about that one.' And I'd rather become a smoker too, rather
then loose you, he added in his mind.  He kissed her tears away.  'God, am
I stupid!  Man I'm a complete moron!' She jolted from his unexpected
outburst. 'Why, what's wrong?' 'Why the heck are you staying in that
freaking wheelchair?  You don't have to.  Why don't you sit here with me.'
She broke into laughter. 'I'm at least as stupid as you.' She jumped up and
threw herself directly on his lap.  Instead of answering, he started to
kiss her and his hands explored her body.  God, how good that was.  He
fondled her wonderful breasts, big and firm, with hard nipples, he caressed
her hips and her back.  He felt how she grew excited and he thought to feel
the tiniest spot of wetness under her buttocks.  Yet he didn't want to go
all the way.  It just didn't seem appropriate.  Like she had the same
thoughts, she drew away and groped for another cigarette.  Still in his
arms, she smoked in silence for a while, carefully blowing the smoke away
from him.  On an impulse, he gently took her face in his hands and turned
it while she exhaled, so he got all the smoke in his face.  After she
finished her exhale he gave her a peck on her lips.  She raised her brows
in confusion. 'Look, before this goes any further, you must know something.
I like it when you blow the smoke in my face.  In fact I like it when you
smoke.  It kinda turns me on.  If you wanna stay with me, you'll have to
live with that too.' A wrinkle appeared between her brows.  She looked away
and smoked in silence for a while.  Then she took an enormous drag and
pressed her lips against his.  She kissed him hard while blowing smoke into
his mouth.  After a while she withdrew and blew the rest of the smoke into
the air. 'Does that turn you on?' she asked giving him a stern look. 'Yes'
he could only whisper.  Suddenly she exploded in laughter.  She could
hardly calm down. 'You little fool you!  I was dieing to do that from the
start.  I think I'm prepared to do almost anything that pleases you.  For a
moment you scared me.  I had a horrid vision of chains, rubber clothes and
whips.  If all I have to do is smoke to turn you on, I warn you, you'll run
around with your flagpole up all the time.' She gave him another smoky
kiss, this time a real passionate and tender one.  'Look honey, you don't
have to do this all the time.  I love it but I don't want you to force
yourself to do it.  You make me hot even when you don't smoke.  I guess I
fell for you the first time I saw you.  You looked so innocent and frail, I
couldn't but like you from the start and that was long before I had any
idea you smoke' She gave him a shy smile 'Whatever you say, Master. 
Jeannie will obey.' Her face turned radiant.  He laughed. 'That's my
Jeannie.  She knows I'm gonna send her back into her bottle, if she doesn't
obey.' Then he looked at his watch. 'Oups, time for my round.  Do you want
me to take you back?' 'No I'd rather stay here, where I can smoke some
more. Now that you've confessed, I don't have to abstain.' Then, looking
into her pack: ' Shucks, I don't have anything left to smoke.  Can you help
out?' 'Sure.  Keep these.  I'll get some more tomorrow.' 'But what about
you?' 'Oh, I thought maybe you can help me out for the rest of the night.'
'Cute.  First you give me your cigarettes, and then you want them back. 
All right, you can have one or two.' She laughed again.

   That night she stayed with him on the balcony, smoking, chatting and
kissing.  Several times he needed to smoke a cigarette to cool down.  He
went home feeling in seventh heaven.  Incredible.  It had worked out.  Not
only did she smoke like a chimney now and loved it.  The best part of it
was that he had confessed his passion for smoking women and she had taken
it lightly.  God!  It was almost too good to be true.

   At home, when he woke up, he just had to smoke a cigarette.  He hadn't
planned it this way, but then, if he were to live with a smoker, it seemed
more appropriate if he'd smoke too.  He knew that at least part of the
reason why it had gone that smooth with Susan was that at least in her eyes
they had also the smoking habit in common.  He went down to fetch his mail.
Not that he ever got anything other than bills and adds, but an unpaid bill
could be a pain in the ass.  To his surprise he found a letter from an
attorney.  Apparently an uncle of his had died and had left him something
in his last will.  He called the attorney and found out he not only had
been gifted with a huge load of cash, but also with some real estate in the
south of France, a house in the country side.  He had to sit down and
gather his thoughts.  France!  Some time ago he had read a book by a
British author named Peter Mayle about his life in southern France.  Back
then it had seemed as remote to him like a journey to the moon, but
suddenly he would be in the position to actually see for himself what the
guy in the book had so enthusiastically described.  He had, after reading
the book, attended some French classes and while his average had been a C,
still he thought it wouldn't be impossible...  Then he remembered all the
bits and piece he had heard about France over the years.  Mainly that
unlike at home, in France smoking was still socially acceptable.  He even
remembered something about an unsuccessful smoking ban.  Seemingly the law
had been dropped after the police had refused to enforce the law.  A
smoker's paradise!  All that he needed now was to persuade Susan to join
him.  With this unexpected fortune on his hands he could pay for a modest
yet reasonably comfortable life style for both of them.  Would Susan, after
knowing him for only a couple of days, be ready to join him in such a
daring adventure?  There was only one way to find out....

   That night, on the balcony, he decided to put all his eggs in one
basket. 'Hey Susan, what would you say if someone would offer you to live
with him in France?' 'France?' she stared at him in disbelief, speechless
for a while.  He already regretted to have brought up the subject.  'Did
you say France?' 'Oh, it's just a hypothetic question.' 'How did you know?'
'Know what?' 'That going to France is the one thing I could kill for.  To
live in France?  I would do almost anything for that.  I've read all of
Peter Mayle's books ten times over.' 'You're kidding.  I'm a fan of Mayle
too.' 'No, I'm dead serious.  Common ca va?  You see, I have even taken
French courses.  Oh my God, I'd give an arm for a year in the Provence.' He
had to clear his throat several time and drag on his cigarette to steady
his nerves.  This would decide everything. 'Well, you don't have to cut
anything off for that.  Just marry me and we can live in France.' 'Oh, cut
it out.  Don't play with me.' Again he could hardly speak of emotion. 
Another cigarette helped. 'Look.  I'm dead serious.  I have just gotten a
letter from an attorney.  My uncle died.  I had no idea he was rich, but he
has left me a small fortune and a house in the Provence, near Avignon. 
Marry me and we can move there together.' Suddenly she broke into tears. 
Between sobs she exclaimed: 'But you don't even know me.  What if you find
it impossible to live with me?' 'Look Susan, I told you I've fallen in love
with you from the first day.  I want to make you happy.  Please, will you
marry me?' Her sobs subsided and slowly a smile spread on her face.  She
took him by the ears and pressed her lips against his.  Leaning her
forehead against his, she whispered: 'Yes, stupid, I will.  It's crazy, but
I can't help it.  I have been a coward all my life, but this is too much.
Yes, I'll marry you.' They celebrated their engagement with a kiss and
somehow, despite the odd place, they wound up making love.  It just came
naturally, to celebrate it all.

   'Look out, France, we're coming!'

   THE END