This is NOT a Nunkies Fantasy.
by Libby Singleton


   Libby sat on the sofa, her head hung low.  Once in a while she dared 
sniffle, though she never allowed herself to shed a tear.

   In the midst of her deepest moment of angst, there was a soft tapping 
at the door.  Looking up, she was shocked to find none other than Lucien 
LaCroix.

   "May I come in, Elizabeth Ann?" he asked in the gentlest of tones.

   "No skin off my butt," Libby shrugged, unlocking the door.

   "My, my, we ARE in a bad day, aren't we," LaCroix remarked after 
setting a sack down on the dining room table.  "May I inquire as to 
your problem?  I _have_ heard tale your husband purchased a motorbike 
today without informing you of his plans..."

   "Yeah, but it's not just that," Libby said, plopping back down on 
the sofa. "It's... well... it's that insidious Nunkies Anonymous group.  
They've kidnapped me, you know, claiming I'm in denial and need 
support."

   "You must be jesting," LaCroix said, raising his eyebrows.  "You, a 
Ratpacker-supreme, are hardly in need of such counseling.  No one truly 
obsessed with me would ever spend $260 on a half eaten fake rat, 
especially the one which killed the lowly Screed."

   "I _know_, but tell _them_ that!," Libby exclaimed.  "They just 
_don't_ understand."

   "Ah, but I assure you that I most certainly _do_ understand," 
LaCroix soothed, walking into the kitchen long enough to retrieve a 
spoon from the silverware drawer.  On his way back, he removed a carton 
of chocolate ice cream (sugar free for Libby's sake) from the sack.  
"Here you are," he said, handing her both the ice cream and the spoon. 
"This should offer you some enjoyment and at least some comfort."

   "Thanks!" Libby said, actually smiling as she dug into to her 
special treat.

   A book on the cluttered coffee table caught LaCroix's eyes.  "I see 
you have Screed's mystery novel, 'The Pursemonger of Fugu.'"

   "And it's autographed," Libby managed to say around a mouthful of ice 
cream. "I got it at the Bridging auction too!"

   LaCroix guestured, requested permission to slip the book from it's 
plastic bag.

   "Well, are your hands clean?" she asked.

   "Of course."

   "Sure," Libby shrugged.

   LaCroix sat next to her on the sofa, carefully opening the book.  He 
began reading, making full use of _that_ voice.  Libby set the now 
half-empty ice cream carton on a nearby tv tray and leaned against his 
shoulder so she could read silently along.  WIthout missing a word, 
LaCroix put his arm around her, pulling her close to him as he toyed 
with her hair.  Suddenly his very soft lips kissed....

(ooops.....)

   Suddenly Libby stood, staring down at LaCroix who looked up into her 
eyes curiously.  "I _refuse_ to fall for your diabolical tactics!" Libby
announced.  "I do _not_ need Nunkies Anonymous!"  Grabbing the Ratsie 
Wot Kilt Screed, she stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door...

SEE!!!!! I don't need NA!

Libby
******
Keeper O' The Ratsie Wot Kilt Screed*
Ratpacker*FKXS*MERC*V4S Author*
*Equal RATS for Carouches*In Nunkies Denial*
******

{{{Maybe, Libby...But you *do* need help...<g>}}}