"If only I knew you were going to come tonight, sir," she murmured, looking up at his weather beaten face as he entered the hotel bar, "I would have invited you to buy me a meal and tell me your sorrows."
"I remember your hunger well," he smiled to see her once more. "Do you remember my thirst as well?"
"Yes."
"Then, there is hope in this world, you tease," he laughed. "I remember you were amazing."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"Could you indulge my thirst again?"
"Would it change anything?" She smiled quizzically, pressing the key to her hotel room into her purse, denying him something without ever saying no.
"Very funny," he frowned. "It would brighten up my life for a hour or so."
"You can last a whole hour drinking in the forest of our dreams?"
"A series of dreams could help us understand all the riddles and all the particular secrets," he promised, reaching out to touch her hand. "A glass of white wine would be a good start perhaps?"
"Would you have to climb a particular vine for that?" She wondered out loud.
"No," he said dryly. "I believe they have bottles of the stuff here, but if you have a desire to climb a particular tree, there is a fine beech in the hotel yard."
"I know, I can see it from my room, when I look out in the morning."
"Could I see it too, then?"
"A glass of wine and I am yours for the night? You must think me very inexpensive sir?"
"It was just a whim," he said, turning away and walking across to the bar. He pulled his wallet from the lining of his jacket and waved several notes to attract the attention of the bar steward.
"Sometimes the whim takes me and sometimes I take the whim," she said pensively, looking away from the bar and back through the window to the beech. She took out her room key and turned it over and over, flipping it in the palm of her hand as if tossing a coin.
"We are twin souls you know," he smiled on his return, depositing two large glassed and a packet of nuts.
"Nuts too, sir. Oh my! Let's go to bed at once!"
"I knew you could be bought."
"I've been known to climb a tree for nothing, I'll have you know, sir."
"I've been known to climb a tree and ask for it to be cut down."
"Do you enjoy the sensation of falling?"
"I was just trying to capture a moment."
"All moments are evanescent, alas," she sighed and sipped her wine.
"Very true - like droplets of water hanging from a leaking tap."
"The last passengers on the plughole ferry."
"Exactly."
She furrowed her brow and looked across at him seriously, furrowing her brow: "Tell me, sir?"
"Yes?"
"Do all the droplets get window seats?"
"All the way down through translucent heaven."
"And back into the drift of the next hurricane."
"But, what a ride. Such possibilities!"
"One always has to consider the possibilities, but sometimes one has to realise the limits of imagination."
"You have a point there," he conceded drinking down a deep draft of the golden wine. "When hurtling down from a tree, it is easy to doubt one's purpose."
"Depends on the landing, I suppose, sir."
"True... the landing is the end of the moment."
She said nothing, but just stared down at her glass, waiting for him to continue.
"Problems of landing are often not reflected in the eye of the beholder," he warmed to his simile. "There again it depends how close the beholder is and what he/she is concentrating on at the precise moment of impact."
Again she said nothing.
"Am I boring you, dear lady?"
"No you aren't. I like drifting with you - it's comfortable, a nice ride - you don't have absurd expectations."
"Thanks - I remember from last time... you're almost too damn intelligent!"
"I have a degree, sir. That does take a modicum of intelligence."
"I do not doubt it."
"And a touch of juvenile silliness."
"I wouldn't trust you, if you didn't."
"I like pranks, sir."
"I can tell."
"And can be very horrid, which makes me a bitch, I suppose."
"I like the way you mistreat those deserving of scorn. I wonder why?"
"Role reversal?"
"You could be right."
"You do know such things go to a girl's head, don't you sir?" she lisped prettily
"Methinks you take advantage of a gentleman's good manners."
"I do believe that you too like to be teased, sir."
"Very much so... I like to be shown the chase, provided the scent is fresh. I love a fresh trail and the promises of what could be warmed up and consumed."
"I only hope I can be of assistance," she murmured gazing over his shoulder through a window at a large beech tree in the park behind him. " Tell me, sir. If I were a tree what sort of a tree would I be?"
"I see you more as a little shrub on the horizon."
"Beast."
"I will not have to climb you, but will find my moment in your thickets."
"Do you have any thoughts on how you might fill them, sir?"
"Of course... but, they are dark and dangerous."
"Oh?"
"Well... Grey and possibly a little troublesome," he compromised. "Do tell," she smiled, sitting down, crossing her legs and waiting for her before bedtime story.
"Oh dear. An audience... what to do?"
"The floor is yours, sir."
"I change. I have many moods. Once upon a time I wanted to dominate and force and make and control. Another once upon a time I wanted to be the victim of a black clad banshee."
"The girl of your dreams?"
"I would be so pleased if you turned out to be both."
"I'm not a great predator, sir, in all honesty."
"That I accept. It is not something I will hold against you."
"What will you hold against me, sir?"
"I will hold much against you, if you will lead me to your chambers, madam, now that our glasses are empty."
"Would you not be lost in my space, sir?" she teased, touching him lightly on the thigh as she stood up and made to walk towards the door.
"I do hope you would offer me somewhere closer," he hinted, pressing his hand to her lower back, almost possessively, but lightly enough for her to say no, if she chose.
"You can sleep in my closet if you insist, sir, and that may be too good for you if you insult me with jibes about the looseness you imagine in me."
"I meant no offence, madam, but tell me, were I to opt for that foolishly, what would await me?"
"Something approximating a deranged 'Narnia'," she giggled, pressing the key into the lock and twisting it back and forth, "knowing the mess of belongings that I have hoarded there."
"Perfect!" he laughed
"You can be Tumnus, the tumescent faun if you like."
"Well, when I walked into this hotel I never expected to become a faun."
"I do love hairy legs, Mr T."
"I do hope that I cannot repay that particular compliment?"
"And your phosphorescent wine. I shave my legsies, sir," she smiled, slipping down onto the bed and sliding her jeans off.
"Good girl. Smoothness is a virtue."
"Do you think lady hobbits shave their toes?" she enquired, wriggling her own and reaching down to pull her legs up and sit up on the bed in full lotus position, while stripping off her blouse. He admired the nearly nude woman before him.
"That," he sighed, "is another image I'll have trouble forgetting."
"My near nakedness or the shaven toes?"
"Your near nakedness was expected, so it must be the toes."
"For that arrogance sir, you can join the male hobbits queuing up at Granfer Gangee's for footsies weekly - the hobbits' 'zoo' magazine."
"Stop," he laughed and coughed, feeling his side hurt. "You're damaging my psyche."
"Forgive me, sir."
"Can I?" He frowned.
"Only if you spank me first."
"Spank you?" He leered. "Well, you'll have to assume the position for that."
"I never assume, sir," she responded pertly. "Others do it, sooooo much better than me."
"Then simply position yourself."
"As you wish sir. Would you like the woman's weekly in my bag?"
"I was hoping for a Vanity Fair."
"That's quite a volume. Thackeray will turn in his grave at your abuse of my bottom with his efforts."
"You know, you're quite a girl."
"Is that good, sir?" She looked up at him, her eyelids flickering demurely.
"Good," he laughed. "Why, you're very good. I actually meant the throwaway magazine."
"I never throw away magazines. I am a hoarder, sir. Hence the state of my closet."
"Then you will have lots of different ones to choose from eventually."
"And you can get all your jollies from the problem page of my collected cosmopolitans then?"
"Not my cup of tea."
"And I thought you just came up with me for sex. You want tea as well - my you ARE the demanding one!"
"Very funny."
"Forgive my impish humours, sir."
"I enjoy them."
"That's as well, but it is getting late and I do have to shave my toes for those hobbit boys in the morning, don't you know?"
"You are a...a slave to their desires," he laughed helplessly.
"Of course, would you have me any other way?"
