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"Err," I began, "speaking of showers. When I gave Sharon the poster, well, we were both a little drunk. We started talking about how it looked better than her shower and, well, things got a little out of hand. She ended up handing me the camera and posing for more pictures under the shower." What?" Tina's body went stiff beside me."We ended up doing another photo shoot. Kind of like we did last year." Oh." Ice dripped from her voice."I'm sorry," I said. "I should have probably talked to you beforehand, but I didn't think it was going to happen."Tina turned her face away. Her body was still tense."We were drunk."She still didn't respond."I'm sorry."Still no response.I started to panic. Now my own body was tense and my heart pounded."I said I'm sorry," I repeated. "We didn't touch, or anything. I knew you didn't want that, but I thought that the pictures wouldn't be too bad. At least not from what you said in Albuquerque. And we didn't touch."Tina sighed, turned and looked at me."Is. With a roar of victory, the wiry man lunged forward. Emmy twisted desperately to dodge the blow, but fatigue made her a touch too slow. The blade cut deep into her flank, slashing her left side wide open.Emmy slid off the blade onto all fours, her borrowed blade clattering into the dirt. She pressed her hand to her bleeding side, blood streaming between her fingers to pool on the ground.Contemptuously, he kicked her over and she sprawled out on her back, panting. Her hand briefly came free of her flank, and a few loops of intestines peeked out of the wound. They felt squishy to Emmy's touch as she tried to re-apply pressure with her hand.The victor stood over her, triumphant. Emmy looked up at him and beamed. What a great fight it had been! Her first and only taste of real combat had been such a rush, and she'd loved every second of it--from the triumph of victory to the sting of her wounds. Emmy reached up and extended her hand to him.The wiry man rocked back as if struck. .
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