He had that smirk on his face again."Well, you coming," I asked, a bit more angrly then I wanted to. Without saying a word, Ian rose from the couch an... in three steps had caught up to me at the door. He began to bend down toward me and I jolted, fearing what he was going to do, but he simply grabbed his bag on the outside of the door. Once he had stood back up, I made my way back to my room with him in tow. He followed closly and I felt him bump into me once or twice. Everytime he did, I felt. Even a thread might bind a god that mortals would break without thought.”“They don’t change places, do they, Pol?” Margaret asked.Wesley laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”There was a long pause and Wesley knew he had misspoken. He was drawn back in his mind to the patterning of the rostrum. He was sure there was a connection.It was Pol who once again broke the silence.“It is time to go.” He marched down the Cancer Avenue. It had been named by the group according to the sign on the rostrum in that. Fenella and Trencher drew a crowd for coming in second, and for her family’s reputation of raising champion race horses. The winner of today’s race, Dragonara, was one of theirs sold to an oil magnate from the United Arab Emirates so his son could play at being manager.“Ingrid” Fenella beckoned to her to come up and be in the photo. Ingrid trotted over as fast as she could in the confines of her outfit at her boss’s commands and stood beside Trencher and smiled for the cameras. She hoped her. She had always been at the back of his mind, locked away in a corner… an elusive… feeling, impression or… something! When Peter had told him of Miranda’s job situation, he’d felt a vague prickling, and then when he was scanning her CV, he’d found the words leaving his mouth before his brain had even processed the thought. Seeing her again, when she had first walked into their kitchen… He stopped with his key held in his hand, all ready to unlock his front door. This feeling of… desire… need….