Next Door Neighbor

under control, and that what we could do was just sit there and rest. A few minutes later, she reappeared, telling us that the spaghetti was started, and that everything would be ready in ten minutes, or so. She collected kisses from Robyn and Sandra, then disappeared into the kitchen again. A few minutes later, we detected the smell of hot garlic bread, and the first whiff of spaghetti sauce. About the time we were ready to start drooling all over ourselves, she announced that supper was ready – I was last to the table because Lucy used me as a brace to get up herself.

Once we were seated, Amy told us 'I'm not much of a religious person, but if you want to say a prayer, you're welcome to.'

Before any of the others could tell her that we weren't religious, either, I said 'In that case, I'll use an old Boy Sprout prayer. We used it mostly on camping trips, in the winter. Lets you get to the food before it gets cold.'

All four of them looked at me as I intoned 'Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. Yay, Lord!' – and reached for some hot garlic bread.

All of them cracked up in response, and dinner was on. With the five of us sitting there naked, it was a pretty casual thing – when spaghetti sauce dripped onto someone, one of the people next to them would lick it off. Considering the company, I think more than a few of the 'spills' were less than accidental.

It was a good thing Amy made as much as she did – all of us filled our bellies, and there was only a single piece of garlic bread left when we were done. Robyn and I both started to reach for it at the same time, but Robyn laughingly gave up when I curled my lip and growled at her. The rest thought it was hysterical, and almost laughed until they cried.

When the food was gone, we all slid our chairs back to finish up the nice wine that Amy provided. When Lucy, Amy, and I started to talk with each other, Robyn and Sandra quietly got up and started to clear the table. Amy tried to protest, but both of them studiously ignored her after telling her that they were happy to do it after the good food. When she looked to us for help, Lucy and I just shrugged.

After a couple minutes, Robyn and Sandra rejoined us. When we'd finished our wine, Amy asked if anyone wanted coffee. Lucy asked if she had any decaf, and Amy assured her she did before getting up and heading into the kitchen; a moment later, we heard a grinding noise, then water being poured. When she came back, Lucy raised an eyebrow, and Amy told us that she preferred the taste of fresh-ground coffee.

She also thanked Sandra and Robyn for loading the dishes into the dishwasher, and putting away the rest of the spaghetti and sauce from the pots.

When we heard the coffeemaker finally burble it's job was done, Lucy and I got up with her to go to the kitchen. A couple moments later, the girls joined us. Amy tried to protest that we were her guests, and I told her 'Amy, we're not your guests. We're your*friends*. If I ask you to get me a cup of coffee, I expect to hear you ask me if my arm is broken, or tell me – profanely – to get it myself. Okay?'

She grinned, and nodded, and let us pour our own damn coffee before we all headed into the living room. This time, Robyn shared my and Lucy's lap while Sandra filled Amy's. Robyn and Sandra listened as Amy, Lucy, and I continued the conversation we'd been having in the kitchen, but every so often, one of them would speak up to add something to what one of the rest of us was saying.

As the evening wore on, Amy felt more and more comfortable about telling us things about herself – even though she'd pretty much opened up to us that first night, the things she told us now were more immediate, and somehow more 'personal'. One of the things that she mentioned was that Agent Tom Gallery had asked her out for dinner or drinks a few times. She said that she knew he was interested in her, but until recently, hadn't felt comfortable enough with men to be willing to go out with him. It wasn't that she didn't like his company or anything like that; rather, she'd been concerned that she'd like him too much, and find herself in bed with him – only to be hurt or disappointed again. She liked him, but was afraid that she'd turned him down one too many times, and that he wouldn't ask her again.

After getting a promise that she'd keep what I had to tell her confidential, I told her about the conversations I'd had with Gallery. She was surprised to know that he'd taken notice that she didn't seem to get any 'bed rest', or talk about her friends outside the Bureau. Then she was absolutely amazed that Gallery had told me he was fine with the idea of her being with us – and that he'd seemed to know that the 'us' was more than just her and me. I went on to tell her that his only apparent interest had been that she be happy, and that she broke out of the 'shell' he thought she had around her – and that he'd also noticed the change in her, and thanked me for it.

When she said that she wasn't sure what to do, that she still liked him and thought she was ready to go out with him but was afraid he wouldn't ask again, it was Lucy that surprised her by suggesting that Amy ask HIM out.

Amy tried to protest that she couldn't, and Lucy simply told her 'Amy, if you like him, and want to go out with him, you've got two choices. Either you can wait for him to ask you again – which may be a while – or YOU can ask HIM out. You're a grown woman. You're an FBI agent, and you willingly put yourself between crooks and their victims. If that isn't guts, I don't know what is. Besides, if you can bring yourself to be the one to ask for the date, then you can be pretty damn sure that you're ready for what a relationship with him might involve. It might turn out he just wants company while he gets drunk, or it might be that he actually cares about you, and wants something more than just a night in bed. Or it might be that he wants something in between those two extremes. However it turns out, you'll never know what*might* happen between the two of you until there's a *two* of you for something to happen between.'

Even I understood the twisted syntax of that last sentence, and it seemed to make a lot of sense to Amy, too. She sat there for a bit, sipping her coffee, while the rest of us stayed silent. When she finally looked up at us again, she said 'I'll do it. I'm going to ask Tom Gallery out. I won't really see him for a couple days, but I'm going to do it. He and I will both have off time in a week or so, and that's when I'll try to make the date for.'

Sandra hugged her, surprising Amy a little, before saying 'Good for you, Amy. You ought to have someone special, like the rest of us – you're a good person, and a*great* kisser!' – that last part making Amy turn pink while the rest of us laughed.

With the world's problems solved, there didn't seem to be anything left but for us to go to bed – all of us had started yawning, and I think the evenings earlier activities had tired us all.

Amy told us that she didn't think that her bed would hold all of us, and asked Robyn and Sandra if they'd mind sleeping on the couch – that it opened up into a small bed. Both readily agreed, and Amy asked Lucy and I to go ahead and get ready while she got the girls set up. We did as she asked, and a few minutes later, she came in to find us laying on opposite sides of the bed. She looked at us quizzically, and Lucy told her 'It's your bed. You get the middle.

Besides, BOTH of us want to cuddle with you. Amy smiled, and climbed up between us from the foot of the bed. When she was ready, Lucy and I both rolled onto our sides. I tucked my legs up, and Amy lifted her legs to let them drape over mine. Lucy and I each rested an arm on Amy, bending them so that our hands laid on her breasts. In return, Amy let her hands rest on the top insides of our thighs. Lucy kissed her on the cheek, and when Amy turned her head, kissed her again on the lips. Amy just looked at her as Lucy told her 'Amy, Sandra was right. You*are* a good person, and you*do* deserve to have someone special. And you are a*terrific* kisser!', the last with a smile.

Amy turned her head to look at me, and I softly kissed her on the forehead, then again on the lips, before telling her 'Remember what I told you about yourself, that first night? Every bit of it is true. *I* love you. Lucy loves you. Robyn and Sandra love you. I'm a guy, and from the way Tom talks, I'd bet HE loves you, too. But you'll never know for*sure* unless you're willing to take the chance. Amy, one thing I've learned along the way is that it isn't the thing itself that's so hard, but the worrying and thinking about it beforehand.'

She nodded her understanding, then laughed when I told her 'Besides – if we have to come back here for*another* treatment, I don't think we could stand it!'

She gave me a chaste, but still deeply loving, kiss. The three of us lay there, happy to be holding each other, as we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up neatly spooning with Amy, who was spooning with Lucy. Both of us had an arm around the person in front of us; and if Amy was doing what*I* was, she had a secure hold on Lucy's breast. Lucy had her arm resting on Amy, her hand on Amy's bare hip.

I carefully eased myself out of bed, and made a trip to the bathroom before heading out to check on Robyn and Sandra – both of whom were dead to the world, snuggled up next to each other. Back in the bedroom, I gently