“Peter flashes an impish grin, the kind that turns up slightly on one side as he tilts his head. The action that makes produces dimples and makes me swoon.”

“I lock onto his beautiful blue eyes, memorizing his face. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, the way they flash blue when he's happy and grow dark when he's sad. I'll miss his flop of dark hair and his dimples when he smiles.”

“A fairy's heart is a mysterious thing.”

“He came up to me and kissed my neck, cupping the side of my face with his hand. He whispered, "Now give me your keys""Over my dead body.”

“Buster went bananas, running over to Paci and jumping up on his legs, begging for attention.   Paci didn’t disappoint him, either.   He bent down and baby-talked with Buster, like he was an old hand at it.   I smiled in amusement.   Paci was no wimp.   He was almost as big as Bodo and ripped to the max.   He had zero body fat, so Peter and I were able to admire his every muscle, which I noticed Peter was doing with unabashed curiosity.   I caught his attention and raised my eyebrows at him in a conspiratorial message of mutual admiration.   He smiled in return, giving me a pitiful wink that made him look like he had something stuck in both eyes.   It made me laugh. Paci looked up at me.   “Something strike you as funny?” “Yeah.   You baby-talking to a nude poodle.”

“I haven't had any action since the late seventies, so don't make me jealous. I don't think my heart can handle an erection.”

“Chust a little farther.   Keep your shoes on.”Peter whispered to me.   “Where does he get this stuff, anyway?   Isn’t it pants?   Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?” “Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important.   Maybe it’s a German thing.” “You know, Chermans can hear very good.   You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.” “We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter. I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.   “Is dat like a fucktart?” “What?” asked Peter, half choking. “Fucktart.   Dat’s a new word I learned today.   Isn’t it a good one?” “I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart.   It’s fucktard.   And you were right before.   It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.” “I didn’t say fucktart.   Dat was you.   You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today.   Or moron.   She likes dat one, too.   I think it means boy I luff.” “Wow.   You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head.   “Seriously.   You fight to lighten the mood.   You call each other names …” “And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.” “Shut up, Bodo!” “You do?   Ew.   That’s a public shower, you know.” “We do not take showers together.” “Yesss weeee doooo … ” “One time!   Okay?   One time.   And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.” “I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.”