Dumas couldn’t argue with Mari’s reasons for being wary.  Although DEE meant well, it had never done anything like what they’d be asking it to do.  It wasn’t designed to perform medical procedures.  And, as Dumas had discovered, jacking into the security system carried a definite risk of unintended consequences.  Mari had enough problems without accidentally creating a holographic twin.  “DEE will be a last resort,” Dumas agreed.  “But if you ever do decide that you want a jack, we’ll find a way.”<br/><br/>A wide grin spread across Dumas’s face as Mari climbed up onto his back.  “Oh?  You think you can stay on the bucking bronco?” he teased. Once she had a good grip on him, Dumas stretched his arms backwards, so that he could support her legs.  Then he slowly stood up.  To his surprise, she barely weighed more than his military knapsack.  “Here we go!”<br/><br/>Trotting around the room, Dumas made a show of trying to toss Mari off his back, while actually being very careful to keep her from slipping.  After a few minutes, he’d become nearly breathless  (although that was more from laughter than from physical exertion).  And, as if jolted loose by all the bouncing around, a nearly forgotten memory drifted up from the depths -- a memory of even smaller arms wrapped around his shoulders.  But then, he’d been smaller back then, too.  “God,” Dumas panted, still grinning.  “I used to do this for my kid brother all the time.  It was his favorite game.”<br/><br/>A loud rumble in Dumas’s stomach signaled an end to games and nostalgia.  Still carrying Mari, he headed into the kitchen, and then crouched down next to a chair so that she could easily slide into it.  “Better get down, Bunny Girl.  I don’t want to splatter grease on you while I’m making the sandwiches.”