I stripped as fast as I could down to panties and a bra then slipped into the stripies, knowing the one I'd given Rafe was too small, but it didn't have feet in it like mine did. I leaped out--- and was rewarded by his yelp as I dashed across the floor screaming like a banshee--- to throttle him with my feather pillow.

            He was just finishing the zipper, yanking hard over his chest, which was far too big to fit inside this silly thing. But rather than laughing, I followed him hitting away till the pillow broke and true to the movies, feathers literally went flying everywhere, and remained suspended up in the air and all over the place. I twirled, letting them all spew out. They stuck to his hair the most, like a piece of sandpaper. Rafe had his senses by then and was hitting me over the head. We were both yelling--- jumping on and over the bed, circling it and laughing, calling each other ridiculous names. His pillow broke on one such fling, and he threw it and the remaining feathers at me, and lunged, taking me down on the bed, smothering me with bed pillows. He was yelling imprecations--- letting me up for air and then shoving my face in his arm pit, and sitting on top of me so I couldn't get away.

            I can always get away. I flipped him over, landed him none too gently on the floor and ran to the closet for reinforcements when the bedroom door opened and my dad stood there, catching falling feathers on his own whiskers, which they seemed drawn to. His eyes took in the giant mess, the two of us in too tight stripies, caught in the act of a horrendous pillow fight. My hair was covered in white, my eyebrows too.... And as I stood there--- not knowing if I was going to be grounded--- or? I spit one out of my mouth and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

            Dad wisely closed the door.

            The fight resumed frantically, as Rafe reached me and yanked one of the fresh pillows out of my hands and began beating me with it. I swung, hit his pillow and knocked him spinning into the bed again. A chair flipped over, a picture frame fell off the wall, and I screamed again, and jumped on the bed, beating him over the head till once again my pillow burst and it rained feathers so thick he couldn't see, then I straddled him, locked his ankles with my own, and twisted his thumb against his wrist, in an effort to grab the last intact pillow which he still had. We both had our hands on it when I felt his fingers in a very sensitive spot low down, near my bottom. I squirmed.

            "Not fair! Poor form! Poor Form!!!!"

            "All's fair in love and war." He growled and pinched my butt cheek before squeezing his hand in a place no hand should ever be in my opinion. I jumped up instantly, letting him go and he chased me down with the remaining pillow, slapping me back and forth as I put up my hands to fight him off, trying for a jab here or there, or a kick. But he was prepared, and as he got closer and I was backed up against the wall I knew he had won, and I had to concede or be pummeled.

            I made one last feint, ditched to the right, ducked to the left and managed to squeeze by his back to leap over the bed, but he caught my leg, so that I landed squarely on my stomach with the wind knocked out of me for a split second. Then he was on my back, raining feathers all over me, yelling about victory and triumph!

            I wiggled over to my back, used both legs to catch him on the thighs and flipped him neatly over my head to land almost on the far side of the bed, mostly off it. He held my arms though, and we ended up, head to head, upside down, him on the floor and me on the bed, trapped by my hair and his pillow case.

            Our eyes met upside down, and he tilted his face to catch my lips, forcing them open again—very first Spiderman-ish--- the one with Tobey and Kirsten.... As he kissed me. I was stretched over backward, hanging off the bed, and he was simply sitting up on the floor, but he held me there, and ran his hands over my arched neck and shoulders, making sure I didn't fall, while he plummeted my lips over until we were breathless, and I had slipped over onto his lap.

            "Promise me you'll get me feather pillows every year for Christmas for the rest of our lives." I whispered against him breathlessly with a giggle.

            "I swear it." He stated easily. "Promise me we'll ruin them every year at least once for the rest of our lives."

            "I promise." I snorted as he kissed me again, cradling me now tenderly, out of breath, and laughing now and again at our antics. He shifted weight, struggled to stand with me in his lap, but when I tried to get up, he kept me against him just to fall back onto my childhood double bed, that now had no pillows and a gazillion feathers. He pulled me up and shoved a blanket that had come loose under our heads as he made us comfortable in each other's arms.

            "Aubrey."

            "Hm?" I was still giggling--- still snorting---

            "About this afternoon."

            "Don't let's ruin it." I cautioned.

            "I want you to know I get your point."

            "So you'll denounce porn and stop looking at it?"

            He sighed heavily. "I will under one condition."

            "Yes?" I was half afraid he wanted me to quit the church or something and that would end our night right there. I think I held my breath.

            "No matter what happens, this--- this is how we end all future fights."

            I grunted. "That could be a lot of pillows and a lot of messes to clean up."

            "I don't mean that. But we don't sleep on bad feelings. Okay? We agree to make up and make it right. We sleep in each other's arms."

            I snuggled next to him, both of my arms around him, under him, feeling the strength, the warmth, the powerful appeal. Our eyes met, the lights hadn't been turned up to full strength anyway, and now they played a simple halo around our combined faces. He smelled like wood smoke and peppermint, his hair smelled like coconut, his face felt soft, yet whiskery.

            "What if we are so mad we can't stand each other?"

            "Then we promise this: I will tell you ten things I find currently amazing about you, ten things I sincerely love about you, and you can do the same for me, and then we'll make out like crazy, and if we're married we'll make love, and if we're not--- and this happens again, then we promise to apologize, agree to disagree, and continue the discussion in the light of day. We can't let anything mar our perfect synergy. This is how we feel--- right now."

            I was relaxed enough to fall asleep. This bed was so squishy and covered in feathers and blankets I felt warm and cuddled and secure.

            "I promise."

            "Okay then: Aubrey...."

            "Hm...?" He could tell I was going to fall asleep. "At least five things--- tonight--- and they have to be relevant. And we'll take turns, and then we can fall asleep."

            His arms around me, his legs cuddled in and out and over mine, pulling me in close, his stomach next to mine, I could feel his breathing and hear his heartbeat. I was completely relaxed. I could barely think. But think I did:

            "Rafe: I love that you make everybody in the room sing with you, relate to your songs and want to work with you. You have that chemistry."

            He sighed in appreciation. "Aubrey, you have a glorious voice. I want you to sing with me."

            I snorted, barely, feeling languid and confident. "Rafe, I love the way you hold your fork when you finish using your knife, you keep it turned upside down and place the food in your mouth with a small smile, as if the food tastes delicious."

            He shook with laughter. "Aubrey I love that you're not afraid to make messes."

            It was my turn to laugh. "Rafe I love that you're not afraid to clean up messes."

            He chortled against me, his eyes closed now. So I closed mine and listened to the rumble of words in our chests.

            "Aubrey, I love that you take your time in nature. You don't rush."

            I thought I nodded, feeling myself slipping away...

            "Rafe----."  His words made me feel good. Made me feel valued. "I love that you walk ahead of me and beside me and behind me--- not afraid to lead, but never leaving me behind."

            He was quiet, maybe digesting that one, but maybe falling asleep. Finally I heard him draw in his breath. "Aubrey, I love that you make me feel like Superman."

            I smiled against him. "Rafe---"

            But I didn't continue.  I was thinking, maybe I thought I was thinking out loud, and I missed.

            "Aub----"

            "Rafe---- I love that----."  I was more than half asleep, my dream self was cueing in. He might have shaken my shoulders just a tad, but I didn't know if I was speaking or not.  Snatches of conversation billowed like curtains in and out of my mind. His breathing was even, his heart beat constant. Like a canoe on the lake in the warmest sun. I just basked....

            "Rafe--- I love---- you."

            I think I heard my words, maybe not. I wasn't sure what it was about him I was trying to say, only that it was my turn somewhere down deep inside, and I was supposed to say something. Had I said it? There were lots of things I.... I.... admired....

            Visions flashed in my mind, settling on the one of him on the rock in the river, surrounded by granite and white water, and deep, clear blue green pools.

********