Spent and perspiring, Vicki laid across Fred's lap like a luxuriating cat.  She hummed as she stretched, running her hands over her tousled hair in a lazy attempt to smooth the tangled, red frizz.  As Fred kissed her forehead, she smiled, enjoying the small spark of affection in the moment and giving no thought to its meaning or aftershocks.  She glanced over at her husband and friend, sighing to see them both in the warm embrace of afterglow.<br/><br/>Chuckling, she looked at George, lifting her eyebrows saucily when she asked, "Perhaps we should have them both come here more often?"