Recognition was almost instantaneous; she broke into a wide smile.“John, what are you doing here?”“I was looking for some, ah, new spats and thi... looked like the place to find them. White ones to go with my brown Florsheims, the old ones are really looking ratty. Got any in stock there, my good woman?”“Afraid not, wrong store, wrong century, we’re all out of spats. We sold the last pair we had sixty years ago, to Fred Astaire, I believe.”“Ah, damn my luck. Well, Fred probably needed them more. It felt good to be an ‘ordinary’ person for awhile, but if things get ‘feisty’ you can call me anything you want,’ she finished teasingly. ‘Done,’ JP replied as he flipped her over so she was covered by the bedding and he was above her. Leaning down he kissed her, slowly and passionately. Marketa again became Vicki as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, until he pulled away and stood up. ‘I need a shower and then we need to get some breakfast before we see some more of. More

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