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The Reaper (chapter 2)
  I logged on as soon as I got home and left her a steamy message. I wanted my hands on her more than anything in the world. There was a message from her to me, posted while we were still in the restaurant, which read "A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou..." That was it. A chill crept up my spine. I dreamed of her eyes and the curve of her mouth every night for a week.
  Every night there were messages for me. Every morning I left replies for her. At the end of the second week I started the fight. She had alluded to her political beliefs a few times, but didn't seem to have much passion for a fight. I could care less about any of it, but I needed a prod and thought politics might do it. After the first heated words I called her at home and told her I had to see her. She named a park on the other side of the city, saying she'd bring lunch and a blanket. She told me to bring the crow. "And bring your appetite!" she hissed, slamming the receiver down.
  I knew the park. I waited in the parking lot, remembering the last time I'd been there. That had been the blonde. She'd gone down with her eyes scrunched tight shut, screaming. A real fun date. I'd had trouble hearing for three days. I was lost in the memory when Maggie rapped on the window. When I got out of the car and took the basket from her she saw how excited I was and thought it was for her. A great reaction and I hadn't even planned it.
  "Oh, Lee," she said. "I thought..." she shrugged, bouncing softly.
  "Look, I'm sorry." I touched her throat with one finger, looking deep into her eyes.
  She smiled, jarring my soul again. "Where do you want to go?"
  "Heaven?" Right then I thought I might make it.
  "To eat? To talk? To touch," she said, taking my hand. I remember thinking she was considering taking me wherever I wanted to go.
  "They were just words," I said after the blanket was spread on the grass, after she'd pulled out a bottle of wine and two plastic champagne glasses, after a loaf of crusty French bread had appeared.
  "Hush," and she touched a finger tip to my lips.
  I hadn't believed she was going to be this easy. I wanted her then, there in the sunlight under the trees. I wanted her bad and it looked like she could be real bad when she wanted to be. I held her and whispered against her ear. I stroked her arms and kissed her. She nuzzled against me and listened to my voice. She asked if I wanted her. She pouted when I told her I wasn't prepared. She teased me and made me wish I'd moved faster. She made a game out of it, playing against the hunger she said she could feel.
  "I'd like to get under your skin," she confided in a whisper. "I'd like to get into your head." She chuckled against my chest.
  I started laying it out in my mind right then. She was going to be so good. She might be that something special. 'Yeah, this could be the one,' I'd thought. I made promises to her as the sun set. We laid plans to make our dreams come true the next time we met. I swore I'd be prepared.
She put both of her hands on my chest, looked into my eyes and smiled that special smile. She almost purred when she said, "And I'll be ready for you."
  I considered an unplanned encounter. I'll admit it. She had me that worked up. The first girl I'd ever taken had been unplanned. I'd had to leave that town because of it. Six years later and more than a thousand miles away I almost forgot the uproar that had caused.
  As Maggie rolled across the blanket to put the empty wine bottle in the basket a car rolled by, reminding me where I was. I didn't know whether to cuss that car or bless it. I still don't.
  Two days later I attacked her on another political issue. I told her she was politically naive and socially incompetent. I told her not to post to me again. I didn't twit her. I watched her rant for a week. I dreamed intense dreams every night, waking up sweating, calling out her name. I was ready.
  "You Jerk!" she raved at me when I called her. "How can you even think I'd talk to you after what you said?" I could hear her breathing hard in her anger.
"Because I think you love me," I told her.
  There was silence on the other end of the line. I waited. I thought I heard footsteps. Maybe she'd thrown the receiver down and walked away. This was part of it. I had to have this, too. The uncertainty, the suspense, the possibility that I might not get what I wanted.
  "Excuse me?" she said. She sounded out of breath. I could imagine her going to the window and taking deep breaths or hopping on her stationary bike and doing a few miles.
"I think I love you," I said.
"Lee! You're nuts!" She slammed down the phone.
  I waited. I had a cup of coffee. I played a few games of solitaire and watched the cards roll down the screen. I had a sudden urge to log onto the BBS and see if she was up to something. A thousand ideas rolled through my head. I called back.

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