.................Time seemed to drag that morning but eventually it was tie to head offbutterfly's were performing high speed aerobatics' in my stomac..., orso it felt as I left the cabin. I had spent ages getting readychopping and changing my mind on what I was going to wear, all thesigns pointed to an excited girl on a date so I guess I was fittingthe role well. Eventually after ages on my make-up I wore a whitelinen skirt not too tight or short but above the knee anyway, a creamcamisole top. Luckily, we didn't.The women made over all of us when we told what we had discovered and had done. Were it not for the baby, they both would probably have wanted to go with us on our next trip to hunt for chip carriers. One thing for sure, we had hardly made a dent in the aliens' alcohol supply. It was going to take at least a hundred factories like the one we had destroyed to fill the alien ship, and there must be dozens of those ships in orbit around the Earth.That brought up another thought:. . a variety of things."He cleared his throat. "Just how much did you want to see?" Everything." I see, and are you just looking or are you seriously shopping?" Oh, I'm serious Mr. Winters... may I call you Allan?" By all means. And what exactly are you looking for Ms. Torme?" Only people who don't know me call me Ms. Torme. My friends call me Vivian and those who know me most intimately call me Viv." She pursed her lips the way Marcel had taught her. "What would you like to call me Allan?" That. Everybody else seemed to be having some degree of fun. Even the business group was toasting and laughing over possibly a good contract. He should have gone to a dark, smoke clouded bar with meaningless music to dull the senses, he reasoned, and gave up the attempt to lose himself. He took a last bite off the cheese, paid the bill and stood up. His mobile phone under the handkerchief he’d placed on the table was forgotten. A trace of worry passed through his wine fogged brain as he stepped out.