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Subject: {Hawkeye}JDR"Hazy Shade of Winter"( MF rom )[1/1]
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                             JOHN DARK REPOST
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                     =================================
     Do me a favor, and only redistribute this with the following notices 
attached.  

     Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance between the 
characters herein, and any real people living or dead, is purely because I 
draw from many sources, real and imaginary.  Chew on that.  (c) 1993 Pure 
Blue Enterprises.  All rights reserved.  Explicit permission granted for 
electronic re-distribution, without changes.   

                           =====================
                           Hazy Shade of Winter  
                                by Hawkeye  


     It's been 18 months since I've seen her now.  I may very well never 
see her again, so I feel it's appropriate that I get my thoughts and 
memories of her in order.  Who knows, maybe it will help...  

     She first flipped her way into my life 6 years ago.  Yes, flipped. I 
spotted her in the meal line at Hudson, about 10 feet in front of me. She 
was just a little thing, maybe 5' 1" or 2", with platinum colored hair, 
cropped at the shoulders.  God, she was cute.  Anyway, her hair  had this 
way of falling across her face whenever she leaned forward to put something 
on her tray.  She kept flipping it out of her way, with a little toss of 
her head.  Unreal.  

     So there I was, staring at her, dizzily thrilled at watching her hair 
swing, and I smashed my tray into the woman in front of me.  It was 
spectacular.  I sent a cascade of porcelain and glass onto the tiled floor.  
I was lucky--only about half the lunchroom looked up at me, to see what 
idiot was responsible.  I put on my best sheepish grin, and tried to get my 
ears to stop glowing red.  I didn't see whether she looked at me or not.   

     So, that was the first time I saw her.  

                                    +++  

     Almost a month after that, I signed up for the "movie crew", a sort of 
entertainment committee for the dorms.  It wasn't just movies, in fact it 
was mostly parties and bands and all kinds of ("socially stimulating", read 
the charter) activities, which we had a sizable budget for.   

     So, as if you couldn't guess--the new guy gets the shit jobs.  I ended 
up cleaning up after a loud, riotous party that shook the building's 
foundations until 2 am.  I really had all day Sunday to do it, but I was 
still wide awake and nursing a ringing in my ears that would keep me up for 
hours, so I figured I'd get a head start on it.   

     Anyway, I was picking up the "No Underaged Drinking" notices that had 
been torn down and stamped into the beery mud on the floor, when I heard 
the front door slam.   

     Nobody was supposed to be let into "Ground Zero" after the party. 
Except me, Joe Cleanup, because I had the keys.  But since this was my 
first mission, I made a rookie error, and left the front door unlocked.  I 
just prayed it wasn't drunken partiers, come to scrounge the last beer.  
I'd be here all night.  As it got closer, I could tell it was just one set 
of footsteps.  Good; I could deal with that. Hopefully.   

     As my midnight prowler rounded the corner, I shouted: "Hey, you're--".  
It was a pretty good start, I thought.  But I came up short on the rest of 
it.  Choke.  I'd never be the big game player. It was -her-, and I couldn't 
finish my sentence, because her hair was doing that bounce thing again.  
Oh, god.  

     "Hey, you're--", she mimicked cheerfully.  And gave me an elfin grin.  
So, I knew this was the time for me to get a hold of myself, say something 
engaging, and show her how fascinating, mature, and confident I was.  Yeah.   

     "Well... you're not supposed to be in here.  It's after hours."  Oh, 
that was good.  Throw her out quick, before she clues in that she's  alone 
in a half-dark room with a moron.   

     "Oh.  Do you want me to leave?" She stuck out her lower lip, in a cute 
spoof of a little girl pout.  Did I say that I choked before?  I didn't 
know the meaning of the word.  I almost swallowed my own tongue this time.   

     "No!", I got that part out, well enough.  Maybe I was improving. 
"No--I just... uh.  Hmm.  Why are you here?" No, I obviously wasn't 
improving.   

     "Well, you *are* Sam, right?"  Without waiting for me to somehow screw 
up saying "yes", she added "I'm Lisa Bradley.  I'm supposed to help you 
clean up."  

     Oh, no way.  Things like that just don't happen.  But they did that 
time.  I found out, as I went about the most delightful evening of mopping 
rancid beer that I ever hope to experience, that she had joined the "movie 
crew" several months ago, but hadn't been active in it because of "other" 
time commitments.  So, she was just now starting out at the same newbie 
level as myself.    

     We had a great time slopping around and making inane jokes.  She had a 
pixie sense of humor, and an easy way about her that actually made me feel 
comfortable, despite my ongoing awareness that she was very, very 
attractive.  I watched her all night as we cleaned up... the way her 
breasts moved under the cotton blouse she was wearing.  The way her jeans 
stretched nicely around her bottom when she bent over to pick something up.  
The way her hair bounced as she walked.  

     She was the cutest little package you could ever imagine.  She must 
have weighed only 110 or 120 lb, and she came up to about my chin. Her 
breasts would have seemed small, and her hips narrow if she had been a tall 
woman--but on her frame, they made her look well-endowed. I couldn't take 
my eyes off her; not to say that I really tried.  

     I went to bed that night, dreaming about how her platinum hair bounced 
around as she moved.  And how she had to keep shaking her head to flip it 
out of her face.  I had that little flip memorized, and my dreams were full 
of tossing hair.   

     That was the second time I met her.  

                                    +++  

     That semester, we got to know each other pretty well.  We used to go 
out of our way to hang out together.  All her friends were guys, it seemed.  
She was friendly and attractive and fun to be around, and guys got pulled 
in like moths to the flame.  The only thing that kept them from hitting on 
her constantly was the fact that she already had a steady boyfriend.  

     Yup.  That was why she was late getting involved in the movie crew. 
She had met this guy at the beginning of the semester (about the time I had 
my lunchroom "scene"), and she had become very involved with him, to the 
extent of not doing much else besides seeing him.  

     He was actually a pretty cool guy--the couple of times I met him, I 
thought that if he wasn't dating Lisa I'd probably like to hang out with 
him.  In fact, I probably wouldn't have minded anyway, despite my sort of 
silly jealousy of him, but Lisa kept him apart from us.  She never brought 
him along when she went out with her male cronies.  I didn't ask why.  

     So things rocked along pretty nicely like that for the rest of the 
semester.  We were the "cleaners" for the movie crew, so we got to spend 
time together every weekend.  And it was usually just the two of us, since 
for some reason nobody else volunteered to work with us. Go figure.  

     Anyway, winter came down hard on us, and the end of the semester came 
crawling through the snow, sneaking up until it caught us completely 
unawares.  Before I knew it, she was gone for Christmas break, and I hadn't 
even had a chance to really say goodbye.  Hell,  I didn't know if she was 
even coming back next semester.   

     Christmas was the longest holiday I've ever experienced.  

                                    +++  

     Needless to say, she did come back the next semester.  I shoved a 
birthday card under her door, saying, "Welcome back.  I don't know when 
your birthday is, so I thought now would be a good time to take a wild shot 
at it."  She laughed when she called me on the phone, and she told me I was 
weird.  "Only when I'm around you", I said.  

     Within a couple of weeks, we were almost back to our old routine, 
except that this semester, the movie crew had a couple other newbies to do 
the cleaning up.  We found other reasons to spend time alone together.  

     It was the middle of February, and we couldn't escape the fact that we 
were obviously spending far too much time together for it to be just casual 
anymore.  She made references to her boyfriend occasionally, when it seemed 
like the atmosphere between us had gotten too thick to breathe.  That hurt, 
but I didn't say anything about it.  

     Despite the tension, we continued to see each other.  We went to late 
night films, and stayed up all night in her room, listening to her stereo.  
Sometimes we would end up falling asleep leaning against each other, or 
snuggling under a comforter as the February gales roared against the 
window.  I tried tentatively to kiss her a couple of times, but she turned 
her head away.  Her "boyfriend" was never around anymore.   

                                    +++  

     February gave way to the warmest March I've ever seen.  The weather 
turned bright and cheerful overnight.  I had a snowball fight with some 
friends of mine, and we almost hurt each other by packing the wet, heavy 
snow so hard that it left bruises.  

     I came back to the dorm with my hair dripping half melted snow.  I 
stopped by Lisa's door, and kicked it with my sneaker.  As she opened the 
door, I smacked her with a handful of loose slush that I had hidden in my 
pocket.  She burst into tears.   

     I stood there completely dumbfounded.  I hadn't hit her hard, and the 
snow was just soft and slushy.  The script read that she was supposed to 
wrestle me for control of the other handful that I had at the ready, and we 
were supposed to shriek dire threats at each other until one of us got it 
rubbed in our face.   

     "Lisa...?" I stepped into the room, jamming the other handful of snow 
back into my coat pocket.  She had seated herself on her bed, her face 
buried in her hands.  I pushed the door closed behind me. "Hey--what's 
wrong?"  I felt like 150 lbs of stupid asshole.  

     She didn't answer me, she just shook her head a little.  I dumped my 
wet coat on the floor, and sat down beside her.  Tentatively, careful of a 
violently negative reaction, I slipped my arm around her.  I smoothed her 
hair back (had I ever seen it rumpled before?), and squeezed her shoulder 
in what I sincerely hoped was a reassuring manner.   

     "What is it?  Do you want to talk about it?" I paused.  "Or should I 
shut up?" She stopped crying then, and just sort of trembled, dryly 
gasping.  She lifted her face from her hands and tried to say something, 
but she couldn't get it out.  It sounded like "He..."  

     I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear this.  I've heard women cry before 
over guys, and I'm pretty good at the awkward business of "just being 
there" for them.  But with Lisa, it wasn't like I had no personal interest 
in this.  I didn't want to listen to a tale of how she just couldn't live 
without X, and her life was meaningless now that he's gone, but she's so 
glad she has a friend like me that she can talk to... My head would 
probably just explode into a million tiny glowing fragments if she said 
anything like that.   

     I waited while she got her breathing under control.  She managed to 
gasp out between fits of shaking:  

     "He...", she started.  I winced.  "He tried to... tried to..."  

     I suddenly felt as cold as the arctic sea.  "Oh, my god... are you 
ok?", I demanded.  A second later, I grabbed her by both shoulders, 
"ARE..YOU..OH..KAY?" I was maybe a little harsh with her, but I felt a 
rising tide of panic that was going to make me burst at the seams in a 
minute.   

     She nodded, and brushed at her eyes.  

     I stayed with her all night.  It turned out that her "boyfriend" 
hadn't taken so kindly to being slowly excluded from her life, and had 
showed up with a heavy load of alcohol weighing on his brain.  She had 
argued with him, then told him to leave.  He decided not to.  She shouted 
at  him.  He attacked her.    

     She was tougher than she looked.  At 5'2" and maybe 120 lbs, you don't 
get the feeling that she's a world class fighter or anything. But she's not 
weak, and she's not timid.  She grabbed the ceramic pencil-cup from her 
desk, and smashed him in the face with it.  He's lucky it didn't break and 
cut his eye open.  As it is, it sounded like he was going to be sporting a 
shiner and a major headache the next day.  He had stumbled out the door, 
presumably because she had knocked some sense into him.   

     We didn't talk that much about it.  Mostly, I just stayed with her, 
and respected her silence.  We ordered out for food, and skipped all our 
classes.  I held her a couple of times when she started bawling again.  

     I stayed with her for two days.  I slept on the floor, because even 
though she wanted me in the room with her, she didn't really want to be 
touched.  I felt horrible, partly for what had happened to her, and partly, 
selfishly, because I felt like extra baggage in something that obviously 
didn't include me.  

     When she felt ready to cope on her own again (and also the need for 
her to keep up with her classes started to become pressing), she went back 
to her normal routine.  I went home, still a little dazed from the events 
of the past couple of days.  More dazed than her, I think.  She bounced 
back--I was still gushing anger and disbelief.  

     Like I said, she was tougher than she looked.  

                                    +++  

     Two weeks went by, and I scarcely heard from her.  I saw her light on 
at all hours of the night, because I went for lots of walks in the damp 
March air.  Walks that took me through the courtyard - under her window, 
coincidentally.  Yeah.   

     The third week after, I got a phone call from her.  

     "Hi," she said.  

     "Hi...  What's up?"  I paused.  "How are you?"  

     "I'm ok."  She actually sounded like she meant it.  She wasn't good at 
faking moods.  If she was depressed or cranky, she always sounded depressed 
or cranky.  

     I waited again, feeling frustrated about not knowing what to say.  

     "Look," she said.  "Why don't you come over tonight?  It's my 
birthday, did you know?"  

     "No, I didn't know!  How old are you?"  

     "I'm 20.  You don't have to get me a card, since you gave me one back  
in February." I could almost hear her grinning through the phone line.   

     "Great.  What time?"  

     "How about 7?"  

     That couldn't have sounded any better to me.  

                                    +++  

     I considered what to get her for a present.  She's one of those people 
who's hard to buy for.  Not that she's unappreciative, though she does tent 
to mock you in a friendly way for making "silly" purchases.  And I never 
quite got a handle on what she considered silly and not-silly.  She had 
such a curious and humorous attitude toward everything that serious and 
silly got kind of mixed up.   

     So, what did I do?  I bought her a squirt gun.  I knew it would get 
used on me, probably at embarrassing moments like in lecture or something, 
but I would live.  As requested, I didn't get her a card.  

     I showed up at her door at 7.  

     She opened it when I knocked.  She looked beyond beautiful.  She was 
so radiant she was almost glowing white.  She had on a dress, which is 
unusual in itself, her being a bluejeans kind of girl.  And she had tied up 
her hair, which is also out of character - she always lets it hang loose.   

     I kept my composure, though.  I said "Uhhh, wow.  Hi," just as smooth 
as ever, and didn't even trip stepping into the room.  

     She took the package that I held out to her.  She made as if to tear 
the wrapping open, then looked up and asked "Should I?".  I thought about 
it for a second, then said, "Better not."  I smiled.  

     "Hmmm."  She looked at me out of the corner of her eye, as if trying 
to catch me smirking, then put the package on her desk.  

     In the meanwhile, I was beginning to experience a small discomfort. 
Her white dress was form-hugging, and cut fairly low across her bosom. I 
could see the cleft between her breasts, and it was distracting me, badly.  
The room began to seem too warm, and I was getting a lump in my throat.  

     "Sit down," she said, "you look like you haven't slept."  I sat on the 
end of her bed.  I said, "Well, I've been kind of busy lately."  I didn't 
tell her I'd been busy walking around campus all night thinking about her.  

     She sat down on a chair facing me, and said, "Well, what do you say to 
Chinese food and ice cream?  I've got them warming in the kitchen 
microwave." She added with a grin, "No--not the ice cream!  That's in the 
freezer."  

     Since that sounded good to me, we went to the kitchen (actually a sort 
of "shared kitchenette"), and fetched the food and plates she had left 
warming.  We ate in her room, balancing the plates on our knees, and 
listening to the radio.   

     Then we broke out the ice cream.  I mean that somewhat literally. We 
didn't bother with cones, we just broke open the carton, put it in a bowl 
on the chair, and ate it with spoons.  She sat on the bed next to me.  I 
grinned at her between mouthfuls.  She grinned back.  I dabbed a bit of ice 
cream onto her nose.  She wiped it off and ate it. Then she spoon-flicked a 
piece of it, and hit me just above the eye.   

     I wiped my forehead, and then came at her with a giant spoonful, 
though I wasn't entirely certain what I was going to do with it when I 
caught her.  She grabbed my arm and we wrestled backwards.  I trapped one 
of her arms under me, and pinned the other with my free hand. Then I dabbed 
her on the nose again.  Laughing and spluttering, and tried to blow it up 
into my face.  Suddenly, I put my mouth over hers, and kissed her ice-cream 
cold lips.  She went tense like a loaded spring--so that I was about to let 
go of her, when her lips began to move against mine.  

     The tension drained out of her arms and body.  I let go of her wrist, 
and shifted my weight off of her, all thoughts of our wrestling match 
dissolved in a haze of warmth.  "Put the spoon down," she whispered between 
kisses.  I turned and dropped it into the bowl, then turned my attention 
back to her.  When I kissed her again, her mouth opened, and she offered 
her tongue, which I sucked on with a giddy tenderness.  

     I kissed her eyes, her lips, her throat, the tip of her nose.  I 
breathed hot into her ear, and then sucked on her tender earlobes.  I 
tasted the faint perfume of her flesh, and the sweetness of her breath 
against me.  We made out like giddy teenagers for probably half an hour, 
softly kissing and caressing each other, until warmth began to slowly give 
way to arousal.  I was still enthralled with the tenderness of her mouth, 
but I was beginning to have a desire for the rest of her as well.  

     I turned my attention downwards, then, to the softness of her breasts, 
which were pushing enticingly against my chest.  I undid one button on the 
front of her dress, and kissed the notch of her collarbone.  I undid 
another button, and kissed her bare sternum.  I undid another, and kissed 
the swell of her breasts.  I undid the buttons all the way to her waist 
then, and peeled the front of the dress back from her bosom.  

     I could see the dark pinkness of her nipples through the cotton bra 
she was wearing.  More, I could see the hard tips of them poking up the 
fabric.  I whispered to her, "Sit up?"  She sat up on the edge of the bed, 
then stood, and peeled the dress completely off.  It dropped at her feet.  

     So there she was, standing there in her undergarments.  She reached 
behind her back with her hand, but I stopped her.  "Turn around," I said, 
"I'd like to do that." So she turned, and I unhooked her bra. She turned 
back to me, and I pulled it slowly down, until I was looking eye-to-nipple 
with her bare breasts.  I nuzzled between them and kissed them, inhaling 
the scent of her skin.  I loved the way  they moved at my touch.  

     We lay down together on the bed.  I worshipfully traced the curves of 
her with my hands.  She trembled as I brushed my fingers over her engorged 
nipples.  I laid her back flat on the bed, and took gentle hold of one of 
her breasts.  It filled my hands to overflowing.  I kissed the nipple, ran 
my tongue around it, and kissed it again.  Then I began to nibble and suck 
on it in earnest.  When I paused, she gasped and begged me, "Don't stop!  
Do that more." I pinched and rolled her other nipple, rather roughly, with 
my fingers.  She arched her back and moaned.  I switched to give them each 
equal treatment.  

     Finally, I lifted my mouth from her slicked nipples.  She gazed up at 
me, now looking dazed with arousal.  That excited me more than I would have 
believed possible.  Suddenly, I began to feel a hot aching inside me, and I 
desperately wanted to kiss her again.  I slid up even with her again, and 
laid my mouth over hers, while I continued to pinch and caress her with my 
hands.  

     After a long while of deeply and passionately exploring each other's 
mouths, she broke our kiss, and breathed into my ear, "Touch me.  I want 
your hands on me."  I moved one hand slowly down, across her taut belly, 
and slipped it between her legs.  I said, "Is this what you wanted?" as I 
stroked her through the fabric of her panties.  "This?" She nodded 
vigorously, her breath sounding harsh in her throat.  She whimpered as I 
rubbed harder, and I felt the heat of her soaking into my fingers.  She 
sought my mouth again, and we began to devour each other with a ferocious 
hunger.  

     I rolled myself half on top of her then, mostly because I wanted to 
feel her breasts against my chest again.  I felt their soft pressure 
against me, shifting fluidly with every movement.  I slipped my hand under 
her panties, and pressed my finger through the wet curls of hair, into her 
body.  I slid it up and down the length of her slit, exploring the heat and 
wetness of her arousal.  My cock was straining frantically against my 
pants, now, to the point that it was starting to be painful.  I pulled my 
hand from her, and reached down to unfasten my belt.  I stopped.  "Is this 
ok with you?" I asked, my voice thick in my throat.  

     By way of answer, she reached down, and tugged at my belt.  I 
swallowed hard as she fumbled with it, watching her breasts jiggle with the 
play of her efforts.  I reached down to do it myself, but she pushed my 
hand away.  "You wanted to do the bra, I want to do this". She did get it 
on the third or fourth try, and my belt came loose.  I undid the button 
before she could object, and I stood up and undid my zipper.  She took hold 
of my pants and pulled them down.  Then she took hold of the elastic band 
of my undershorts, and slipped it down over my engorged cock.  She put her 
fingers around me, and stroked  them up and down the length of my cock.  

     "Oh, yeaaaah... that's nice," I breathed softly, half fainting from 
pleasure.  She took a better grip just under the head, and began to move 
her hand firmly up and down.  I felt a slow heat rising through my loins.  
I wasn't in danger of coming quite yet, but if she kept doing that...  I 
closed my eyes as she slowly worked me closer and closer to orgasm.  When I 
knew I was approaching the point of no return, I put my hand over hers, and 
stopped her.  I shook my head. "I'll come if you keep that up."  

     She released me and lay back on the bed, then.  I dropped my shorts on 
the floor, and climbed beside her.  I rolled her onto her side, against my 
torso, and slipped my arm around her waist.  My hand went under the fabric 
of her panties, and I began to squeeze her bottom. We kissed, and I stroked 
and kneaded her buttocks with my hand.  She breathed hotly into my mouth, 
and sucked on my ears.  I held her shoulders with my other hand, stroking 
the curls of hair that escaped down the back of her neck.  

     Eventually, she said to me "Lay back.."  I lowered myself flat onto my 
back, with just my calves dangling off the bed.  She threw one shapely leg 
over me, and straddled me at the waist.  Then she lowered herself onto me, 
so that her hips were resting directly on mine.  She began to slide herself 
forward and backward, the damp silk of her panties rubbing against my bare 
cock.  I arched my hips, and ground myself into into the heat of her groin 
as she slid back and forth. I reached up to grab her swinging breasts, as I 
kneaded them hard with my fingers as we dry-fucked each other almost to the 
point of  physical pain.  

     I was so hot by then that I could hardly breath.  I felt like I was on 
fire--my cock was throbbing relentlessly and trickling a steady  stream of 
precum.  I gasped out "Now.  I've got to have you.  Now." She looked me in 
the eyes and leaned forward on her hands and knees to kiss me.  As she 
lifted her hips, I slid her panties down.  She lay down beside me, and 
rolled onto her back, lifting her legs in the air to take her panties off.  

     We stared hard at each other, and I lay my torso partly across hers. I 
leaned down to kiss her mouth, and as we did that, I put my weight on my 
elbows, and shifted my body until I was laying on top of her.  I reached a 
hand down between our bodies, and used my fingers to stroke her.  Her lips 
were hot and slick in my hand.  I kneaded them, and rubbed her clitoris 
with my fingers.  She moaned and writhed under me, pressing herself into my 
hand.  

     I masturbated her until she bit her lip to keep from crying out--all 
the while whispering into her ear, "I want to see you come.  I want to feel 
you around me, I want to feel the heat of you.  I want to fuck you and fuck 
you and fuck you..."  I didn't have to urge the passion in my voice, I was 
so stimulated by the heat of her under me that my voice was shaking.  Her 
cheeks were flushed crimson, and her breath was sobbing in her throat.  

     Finally, I used my fingers to spread her sex, and guide my cock to 
her.  I pushed gently.  There was resistance, but she was very wet, and the 
head of my cock was already slick.  I pushed firmly, and penetrated her.  
In a few moments, her slowly yielding cunt took me completely into her.  
Then I began to move inside her.  She threw back her head, and gave a groan 
from deep inside her chest.  The hot drag and pull of our joining drove me 
to distraction, also, and my eyes shifted in and out of focus as I slowly 
fucked her.  Her hips moved in synch with mine, as I worked her with a 
steady rhythm.  

     Then the mercury heat in my groin began to rise, and I began to lose 
our steady rhythm.  I thrust harder, jabbing myself into her heat, driven 
half frantic by the smell of her, and the wet animal sounds of our 
coupling.  She bucked her hips under me, threatening to shake me loose from 
her.  

     Finally, our passion peaked in a white-hot burst of pleasure.  I 
emptied my seed into her, in the four most powerful strokes of orgasm I 
have ever experienced.  With a half-suppressed scream, she thrust herself 
frantically against me, even as I was coming down from my own peak.  I 
continued thrusting into her, in blind response to her drawn-out orgasm, 
long after the shock of my ejaculation had ended. Finally, we lay there 
together, gasping and exhausted beyond words.  

                                    +++  

     After a while of lying there, I regained enough presence of mind to
realize that I was still lying on her, and making it hard for her to
breathe.  I rolled my weight off of her, and lay on my back, using my 
little remaining strength to pull her against my side.  Her hair had come 
unbound, and it was damp with sweat.  I ran my fingers tiredly through it, 
and stroked her cheek.  

     "Hey...," I said, softly. "How'd we do?"

     She said, "Good."  She swallowed.  "We did good."

     I saw a tear leaking out of the corner of her eye.  I wiped it away
with a finger.  "I love you, you know."

     She answered, "I know."

     That was good enough for me.  

                           =====================
                           Hazy Shade of Winter  
                                by Hawkeye  
                                   -30-


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