“Wow,” Tate whispered. “They’re fucking right on the dance floor. ”“I see that.” There was an edge to my words.Dave gave me a sideways grin. “Juan will cry at being stuck in the van. If he were here, he’d be screaming 'Authenticity’s imperative!' and taking his pants down.”

“Don’t you want to go outside and… shag?” It was a strange word, but much better than fuck. A quick grin lit his face before he responded. “Oh no. Right here. Love to do it in a truck.”

“Tate grabbed me, hugging me so hard, I knew I'd have bruises. He was probably unaware of it, not having had much time to get used to his new strength. I pushed at him, "Tate...you're squeezing me too hard." He let go of me so fast I almost staggered. "Oh Christ, I can't do anything right!”

“Ah, mistress, you’re an angel. Sure there’s not a drop left? I might have remembered one more person….”“Up yours,” I said rudely with another belch. “It’s empty. You should tell me the name anyway, after making me drink all that sewage.”Winston gave me a devious smile. “Come back with a full bottle and I will.”“Selfish spook,” I mumbled, and staggered away.I’d made it a few feet when I felt that distinct pins-and-needles sensation again, only this time it wasn’t in my throat.“Hey!”I looked down in time to see Winston’s grinning, transparent form fly out of my pants. He was chuckling even as I smacked at myself and hopped up and down furiously.“Drunken filthy pig!” I spat. “Bastard!”“And a good eve’in’ to you, too, mistress!” he called out, his edges starting to blur and fade. “Come back soon!”“I hope worms shit on your corpse!” was my reply. A ghost had just gotten to third base with me. Could I sink any lower?”

“See, Don, I have this question, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”He pulled at the end of his eyebrow. “I think you know you can count on my honesty.”“Can I?” I asked with an edge. “All right, then tell me: How long have you been fucking me?”That caused him to stop tugging his brow. “I don’t know what you’re saying—”“Because if I was going to fuck you,” I interrupted, “I’d get a bottle of gin, some Frank Sinatra music…and a crash cart for the heart attack you’d have. But you, Don, you’ve been fucking me for years now, and I haven’t gotten any liquor, music, flowers,candy, or anything!”

“See?” I’d whispered to Bones, nudging him with a grin. “He never argues with her. Isn’t that sweet?”A snort preceded his response. “Keep dreaming, pet.”

“Juan gave Bones the most admiring look he’d bestowed on him yet. “You talked her into going without panties all these years? Madre de Dios, now that’s impressive. I could learn a great deal from you, amigo.”