Gathering Happiness

Connie was starting to get
annoyed.  She and Mike were seated on the
couch in her living room, sharing takeout for dinner, and he'd just shot her a
questioning look for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

"Spit it out," she ordered,
jabbing her chopsticks into a carton that, at this point, contained mostly
rice.

"Spit what out?" he
asked, surprised, dribbling soy sauce down his chin.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  She'd caught him with a mouthful of
vegetables.

"Whatever you've been
trying to say since the movie began."

Mopping up the soy sauce with a
cheap paper napkin, he managed to look sheepish.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He swallowed his mouthful before responding,
"I—promise you won't … be disgusted."

She cocked an eyebrow at
him.  "I'm disgusted style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>now."

"That's not what I
mean."  He set his chopsticks
down.  "It's just … style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>I'm not gay."style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He stood abruptly and paced to the
window.  "I'm not."

"I think you've given ample
proof of that," she responded, slightly puzzled, but suspecting where he
was going with it.  "Last night. style='mso-spacerun:yes'> And the night before, and the night before
that…."

"Okay, you've made your
point."  He turned back to face her,
and she was relieved to see that he was smiling.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "It's just … this dream.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  I keep having it.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  And…."

He raked his hand through his
hair and started pacing again, back and forth the length of the room.

"It's you … and me … and
Jack.  In a threesome."style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He stopped and looked at her defiantly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "There. 
I said it."

She sat back, surprised.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  With an embarrassed look, he retreated
through the door that led eventually to the bedroom.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  After a moment, she followed.

He was seated on the foot of the
bed in the dark, staring out the window. 
"I knew you'd be disgusted," he said, subdued.

"Well, I'm not," she
retorted.  He turned to face her, and in
the light from the streetlights showed a shocked expression.

"You're not?"

"Mike, Jack McCoy is in
serious running for the title of Sexiest Man on Earth," she said, sitting
beside him and rubbing his shoulders gently. 
"You're a perceptive guy.  I'm
not surprised you picked up on it."

His jaw dropped.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Then you're … okay with this?" he
managed after a moment.  She smiled at
him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Actually … I think it's
kinda hot."

And she pushed him onto his back
on the bed, kissing him hard.

Afterwards, as Mike snuggled up
to her, languidly stroking her breasts, an idea germinated in her brain.