"Thanks Denby."

"Yeah."

Harry thought that she looked more pale now and worried that she might be slipping into shock. The immediate threat was gone and he tried to lighten things up. "You know," he mused as he stood there scratching his head, "in some ancient cultures, a rescue of this magnitude would warrant a large compensation of some sort."

Diane looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His hair was all tousled and it gave him a roguish look as he began rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie. Normally, his banter would have gotten her back up, but this time she felt her self beginning to relax from the state she was in. Her racing pulse began to slack its pace and her body began to complain about the new bumps and bruises.

"Would you like a small peck on the cheek?" she suggested as she rubbed the back of her neck.

Harry grinned as he shook his head, "No, I'm afraid that doesn't quite reach the level of compensation that I was considering."

Diane folded her arms and walked to the front door, expecting the cavalry to make their entrance at any moment. Was it getting colder in here? She felt sweaty and a little sick to her stomach.

"What are you getting at this time, Denby?"

He stayed close to her. "This arrangement involves something I've been wanting you to do for a long time... something very personal."

His voice was low and soothing. It made her dizzy, and she felt as if the silky tones of his baritone were lulling her to sleep. He stepped closer, pausing to study her face. "Would you agree to call me 'Harry' from now on?"

Diane touched her sore jaw gingerly and managed a little smile. She raised her brown eyes to his green and began to reply, "Okay...Harry." But as she spoke these two words her eyelids flickered, and Diane fainted right into his arms.