Chapter 13

On Thursday morning, Elizabeth took one look at Stan as he walked 
into the office and knew that her plan for him had worked, albeit not in 
the way she'd expected. He had a spring in his step, his face was open 
and content and he was whistling some tune or other.

She couldn't help smiling at Stan when he sat down, the same beatific 
look still on his face.

"You had a good night and all went well, I see," she told him.

"I had a great time, thanks, Elizabeth!" he replied. He told her about 
the date. Under questioning, he provided details about her dress, how 
she had arranged her hair... before he knew it Elizabeth had a 
complete description of the date, right up to them leaving Tennants.

"So, anything happen after?" she asked, sweetly. On seeing Stan's 
slight frown, she added quickly, "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just living 
vicariously, you know."

"That's okay, Elizabeth. We had a cup of coffee, then I left. Nothing 
more." 'This time! But it was close,' he added silently.

"Any more plans?"

A goofy smile on his face, he answered, "We're going out again 
tomorrow. Dunno where, yet. What about you?"

With a glint in her eye Elizabeth answered, "James came around after 
work yesterday to mow the lawn. I asked him in for a glass of wine 
afterwards." James was a guy who'd retired early, was five years 
younger than Elizabeth and was definitely smitten, Stan knew. They'd 
been 'doing a tap-dance' around having some sort of relationship for 
ages.

"Are you going to let him get closer than just 'interested', or are you 
going to keep him dangling?" Stan asked her. Elizabeth actually 
blushed. Stan was amazed as he'd never seen the normally very self-
assured lady become embarrassed. She said, quietly, "I asked him to 
stay over."

"Oh... Oh!" Stan was surprised, but he recovered and continued, "Er, 
okay - things went well, I assume?" with a smirk.

"Enough! Yes. I'm seeing him again tomorrow, too. He's taking me out 
to dinner."

"Good. I always like my Elizabeth to have fun."

"Your Elizabeth?" she growled.

"Yes, and don't forget it!" he laughed.

- - - - - - - - - -

At lunchtime, Stan went to find Anne. Unfortunately, Anne also went 
to find Stan! There were ten minutes of finger pointing and "I just saw 
him" and "I just saw her" before they finally caught sight of one 
another.

Stan was wearing his usual plain shirt and trousers, this time grey and 
black, respectively. Anne had a blouse and wrap-around skirt, one 
light-, the other darker-brown. But her hair was up and the pendant 
that Stan had bought was on prominent display.

Stan saw Anne's face light up with a brilliant smile when she saw him. 
He realized his own face was similarly smiling. Together they walked 
into the canteen. Anne picked up a salad. Stan opted for the meat-pie 
and potatoes that was on offer. 

Normally, Stan ate with a group from the Test department while Anne 
ate with some of her own colleagues. Today they grabbed a table for 
themselves. They sat together, reaching for their cutlery 
simultaneously, starting in on their meals with occasional glances up 
from concentrating on the food before them.

After a couple of minutes, Stan noticed something. Neither of them 
had said a word. He searched for something. The weather? No! 
Football? No! Music... Yes! Try music.

"I had a look at your bookshelves last night, Anne, but I never noticed 
your music collection. What sort of things do you like?" he asked.

Anne contemplated while chewing on a new potato. Finally, she said, 
"Bits and pieces. I'm a child of the eighties, so I love Madonna. One of 
my favourite songs for a long time was the one from 'Top Gun'. You 
know, Take my Breath Away. I love Queen, Freddie was great. More 
recently, I've come to like some of Elton John's stuff.

"I don't much like what they now call dance music, but I have to tell 
you even that's got something at the right time and place. Of course 
there's a lot of classical ballet music that I came to love while at 
school. I suppose that, in the end, I don't categorise music, I just like 
it or don't like it."

Stan, munching away on his meat pie, thought for a bit. Then he 
declared,

"Take my Breath Away was by Berlin. The rest of the album it's on, 
Count Three and Pray, is actually quite different. Madonna can be 
very, very good, or pretty awful. You're right about Queen, of course. 
Elton John? Well, if you put out as much as he's done, some will be 
poor, some will be good.

"That's a killer test you've just passed," he finished with a grin. "Our 
music tastes have enough in common for us to be together!" Anne 
threw a piece of cucumber at him.

"Well then, I'm so glad to have passed your test," she said caustically. 
"What sort of films do you like?"

"Romances, comedies, action films, war films - pretty much anything 
except straight horror. Even then I can sometimes get it - Texas 
Chainsaw Massacre was actually quite funny, although it certainly 
made one jump at times. Straw Dogs was wonderful. Both of those are 
so old, though. Most of the modern horror stuff is just slash, with little 
or no plot, it seems to me," Stan said, immediately.

"Good," said Anne. "I know we were going to wait until tomorrow, but 
I want to be with you tonight. So lets go to a movie!"

"What's on?" Stan asked, caught by surprise.

"I don't know," replied Anne. "We can check on the net. Hurry up! We 
can use my PC: choose a film and book the tickets at the same time."

So, the two trooped off back to the lab. Once there, they hunted for 
the website of the cinema in the town, finally choosing Prime with Uma 
Thurman. "A romance, I said I liked them," was Stan's comment. Anne 
was pleased as well.

That evening Anne called round to pick up Stan in her blue sports car. 
Stan wore a simple but clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with a light 
woollen sweater in case it was colder when they came out of the 
cinema later. Anne honked the horn outside his house, and Stan 
hurried out the door to get to her car before his neighbours 
complained.

As he climbed into the car Stan looked over at the blonde in the 
driving seat. Anne was wearing a black wraparound skirt and red v-
necked top, cut conservatively yet still emphasising her figure.

Grinning like a thief, Anne gunned the engine and took off, heading for 
the town. Scant minutes later they were at the cinema. Anne threw 
the MX-5 into a parking spot with panache and skill.

"You enjoyed doing that a lot, didn't you?" asked Stan through a 
rather tight grin. It wouldn't be very macho to reveal the anxiety he'd 
felt during that ride!

"Yup!" Anne replied. "I don't throw my car around very often, but it's 
fun sometimes."

Stan crooked his arm and Anne slid hers through it. Together they 
walked into the cinema, bought tickets, drinks and popcorn, then 
found the screen showing their film.

Stan wasn't actually too interested in the movie, to be really honest 
about it. He liked Uma Thurman as a fine actress, and the film was 
more than okay, but what interested him was the woman sitting next 
to him, her hand in his. It was a simple intimacy, yet for Stan it was 
an incredible feeling. He felt every nerve in his left hand afire at her 
touch. Stan tried to pay attention to the movie, he really did! But if 
he'd been asked for a critical review afterwards, he'd have been hard-
pressed for words.

Anne, for her part, thought that the film was fun in a superficial way, 
but that the heat of Stan's hand in hers, the occasional glance he'd 
make at her, the way his body was twisted slightly towards her all felt 
far more compelling.

The film finished, the credits started to come up. Anne habitually 
stayed to watch the credits; a lesson learned when one film she'd seen 
had a 'blooper reel' at the end. So when Stan stood, he found that his 
date didn't. Momentarily at a loss, Stan sat once again. Anne turned to 
him and asked, "Did you want to leave?"

"No, we're okay, we can stay here as long as you want," he replied.

They went back and forth for a couple of rounds, then Stan, wisely, 
shut up.

On the way home Stan wanted to think about whether or not to try for 
a kiss, but Anne once again sent the car flying through bends and into 
gaps only she appeared to think were big enough. Stan couldn't think 
as she threaded her way through the traffic, so they arrived at his 
house with him quite distracted.

Anne, on the other hand, knew what she was doing. With the car 
stopped, she unclipped her seat belt and leaned over. As she did so, 
Stan became aware for the first time that Anne had taken advantage 
of her smaller cup size - she'd gone without a bra and her nipples 
were quite visible through her shirt.

She gave Stan a kiss, then she leaned back into the seat and said, 
softly, "See you then Stan. Tomorrow!" There was a wealth of promise 
in that one word.

Stan looked at Anne in the same way a rabbit looks at an oncoming 
truck. "Go on, Stan. Shoo!" she told him, softly, and Stan shook 
himself and opened the car door. After getting out he leaned back into 
the car and said, "Till tomorrow, then," and closed the door. Anne 
waved, gunned the engine and drove off, leaving Stan waving back.

- - - - - - - - - -

On Friday, at lunchtime, Stan and Anne once again ate together. 
Neither made much in the way of small talk, they were, instead, deep 
inside their heads.

Stan emerged from his reverie, thought of something, and asked...

"Anne?"

"Yes, Stan?"

"Where are we going tonight? We haven't discussed it."

They looked at each other, and Anne giggled.

"Oh, let's go down to the Mitre and get sloshed. It's a Friday, we can 
get a cab there, have a little fun. There's bound to be other people we 
know there as well. How about it?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

- - - - - - - - - -

That evening, Stan heard the honk of a cab outside his door and 
hurried outside. He eagerly found Anne's smiling face looking up at 
him through the open door. Sliding in, he closed the cab door, said, 
"Thanks!" to the driver, settled into his seat and buckled up his seat 
belt. Finally, he was able to look across the seat at Anne.

Tonight she was in a sheer white spaghetti-strap dress. Stan was glad 
it wasn't raining - it looked like it would go pretty transparent in a 
hurry. Anne's long blonde hair was down tonight, some of it escaping 
to partially cover her left eye.

Anne was studying Stan, as well. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt 
and trousers, but at least it wasn't a geeky T, or one with a band logo 
on it. Stan's short thinning hair, with just a few grey ones shining up in 
the last rays of the sun, had been trimmed, she noted. She found 
herself wondering who'd done it. Was she actually envious of whoever 
had had their hands on him?

Arriving at the Mitre, Stan paid the cab driver and the two linked arms. 
Reaching the door, Stan held it open for Anne to precede him.

They walked in to the busy bar finding, as they expected, that there 
were no tables free. Stan made his way to the bar with Anne following 
behind, her hand in his. While they were waiting for their drinks, Stan 
heard a voice calling his name. He turned, and saw Elaine at a table, 
waving him over. He nudged Anne, indicating the pretty young blonde 
with his eyes, and mouthed, "Go!"

By the time Stan had been served and paid for the drinks, Anne was 
sitting with Elaine. The two were in earnest conversation. As Stan 
approached, the noise level, that was so intense at the bar, reduced 
enough so he could hear what they were saying.

"She probably just forgot," said Anne to Elaine. "Thanks, Stan!" as he 
put the drinks on the table.

"Who forgot what?" said Stan.

"Denise, you dummy!" said Elaine. "She was supposed to be ringing in 
today to tell us how she got on! With all the extra security stuff and 
the cancelled flights, I was worried about her."

"Oh, yes, she's back from holiday today, isn't she. She was going to 
ring me, too, come to think of it." 'Oh well, she's got my cell phone 
number now,' Stan mused. After the previous phone-tag, they'd 
exchanged numbers.

Of course, Stan had to repeat all of that, louder. It was better here at 
the table, but still quite noisy.

"So you haven't heard anything either? Do you think we should call 
her?" asked Elaine.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Stan, getting the phone out of 
his pocket. He called up her number and dialled.
 
"Hello? Jim?" came Denise's voice.
 
"No, sorry. It's me, Stan. We wondered if you were okay, got home all 
right, that sort of thing. You know, why you hadn't called?"
 
Stan heard a sigh through the speaker.
 
"Oh, sorry. No... No undue problems coming in. The long lines and 
delays were all going out. Er, Stan, I'm waiting for a phone call. Um, 
look, could you..." Denise asked.
 
"Of course! Look, I just wanted to tell you that we're down at the Mitre 
if you want to join us. I'll get off the line. See you soon! Monday at the 
latest, yes?" 
 
"Thanks Stan. I'll just probably stay here... my dreamboat might call 
the landline instead. See ya!" Denise broke the connection. Stan folded 
up his phone and replaced it in his pocket, while saying, 
 
"It looks like Denise has picked up a fella!" he told the two women. 
"She's going to wait there to see if he calls, it sounds like she's excited 
at the prospect!"

Elaine grinned, but Anne wasn't clued in. "What's that about? Did 
Denise pick up a guy on holiday?"

"Sounds like it!" Elaine told her, "She's quick, that girl!"

"Talking of girls, where's Susan?" Stan asked Elaine.

"She'll be here in a minute, she pulled a late shift tonight and only 
finished at eight o'clock." Elaine told him.

Sure enough, a few minutes later Susan arrived, looking tired but 
happy to see Elaine, who immediately got up so her partner could sit, 
and she went to the bar to get drinks.

"Rough day?" asked Stan of Susan.

"The pits. Still, the day's over, the night's young, and my girlfriend 
smiles at me, so all's not lost!"

Elaine returned with the drinks and sat on Susan's lap, giving her the 
occasional kiss on the cheek. Susan's smile just kept on going and 
going. Stan saw out of the corner of his eye Anne watch the pair. She 
seemed to be squirming in her seat, just a little. Stan, concerned, 
leaned over and said as softly as he could to be heard,

"Do they bother you doing that? I just think it's lovely to see."

Anne immediately reversed their position so that she could talk directly 
into his ear. She said, equally softly,

"No, no. It's not that, it's just that I... never mind. No, it doesn't bother 
me, but I'll tell you later."

On Fridays the bar was open until late; typically the owner would keep 
things going until the wee hours of the morning Fridays and 
Saturdays. Both Stan and Anne had stuff to do at home though, and 
neither wanted to drink too much, so they left around midnight.

On their way to the cab rank, Anne snuggled into Stan's shoulder to 
keep warm. Without any need for thought he put his arm around her. 
Anne idly stroked her fingers over the bare skin of the back of his 
hand. 

"This feels nice," he told her, and she merely answered, "Mmmm, 
yes."

"So what was it about Elaine and Susan that was bothering you? 
Please don't tell me you're homophobic," Stan asked, with concern. He 
wanted to be close to Anne, but he liked the two women. "I really 
think they're a good couple."

"Oh, no Stan. That didn't bother me at all. I just... I just wanted to do 
that with you. To climb onto your lap, to..."

Stan stopped, turning to face Anne. He asked her delicately, "To do 
what, Anne?"

Anne leaned down towards him, face open, her hands on his hips.

"Anne? To what?" repeated Stan, still unsure of her meaning.

"Oh, God. You're clueless, you know. This..."

Anne leaned down a little more, lifted her right hand to the back of 
Stan's head, and kissed him on the lips.

Stan's world shrunk to the sensation of her lips on his, her tongue 
licking and then duelling with his as the kiss deepened. He felt her 
hand pulling his face onto her, controlling the kiss. He responded as 
best he could, but it was Anne who was in charge, Anne who was 
driving, and now she was in her sports car mode and the kiss was 
urgent, needy.

She broke off, taking a breath, watching him closely.

"Not too fast, is it Stan? I didn't think I'd be able to trust another guy, 
especially another older guy after Daniel, but I'd like to try with you. I 
want to be your girlfriend, not just someone you're dating, just tell me 
if I'm going too fast for you," she got out in a rush.

Stan was in shock. In truth it was faster than he'd expected, but he'd 
made his peace with Caron earlier - it was Anne's unexpected heat 
that had got to him. A week ago they'd been mere work 
acquaintances. He'd thought of Anne as an unattainable objective, now 
he had his arms around her and she'd given him a kiss that fully 
compared with anything he'd had with Caron. He didn't really know 
what to think, so he tried levity, saying only,

"I have my arms around a beautiful woman who's kissing me to within 
an inch of my life. What's to complain about?"

She punched him in the chest, not too lightly. "Going to chalk me up 
as a conquest are you, Stan?" she challenged.

Stan quickly went serious.

"No, Anne, never! Look, this isn't really fair. You're only the second 
woman to ever kiss me like that. I don't honestly know what to think. 
But, too fast? No, no, no! With Caron we got that far on our first date."

"You're a fast mover, huh? I wouldn't have known. You seemed utterly 
clueless just now," she told him, eyebrows raised at the last phrase.

"Actually, when I think about it, back then all I did was put my arm 
around her. I was frightened silly and far too nervous and naïve to do 
any more than that. Caron took control and kissed me. Rather like you 
did just now!" he told the grinning Anne.

"I can believe that. You'll have to change your email signature file to 
'Clueless in the U.K.', I think!"

"Humph! Let's get a cab," was his only reply, and the two walked off 
towards the rank with their arms now around each other.

They were lucky. A cab was parked, waiting. Stan gave the driver 
Anne's address, and they were soon on their way.

Anne and Stan looked at one another. She leaned over, Stan did the 
same, and they kissed. The electric touch of her lips ran through Stan. 
He drew back slightly, turning his eyes to the driver to see if he'd 
watched - then did it again.

Just before they reached Anne's house, she leaned over in the 
backseat of he cab towards Stan, putting a finger to her lips and 
cupping an ear, wanting to say something that the driver wouldn't 
hear. Stan leaned in, and Anne whispered into his ear,

"Do you want to come in?"

"For coffee? I guess... I can always get a different cab home from 
here," Stan whispered back.

She gave him a sultry look, then leaned in again and whispered, "Who 
said anything about coffee?"

- - - - - - - - - -