AJ breathed a lip-flapping sigh as he rounded the last curve and saw the dim glow of the coach lights flanking his driveway. Air travel is a seductive illusion, he thought; takes longer to drive home from the airport than it does to fly from New York to Florida. You land and you're home, but you're not.

The familiar crunch of tires on gravel signaled the end of a long day a long day in a long week of continent hopping as he pulled up alongside Sherl's Explorer, set the brake and killed the engine. It dieseled stubbornly for a few thumps then gave it up. Got to take her in for a tune-up, he grudged tiredly. There was just enough light from a low-riding moon for him to find the trunk key slot on the first try, but as the lid floated up he saw with exasperation that the interior light had given up the ghost. He sighed again. Just one thing after another.

AJ scrabbled around in the dark trunk, looking for his hanger bag handle, and barked his knuckles on the hatch lifter. Damn, why aren't the porch lights on? Sucking his knuckles, he straightened up, scanned the yard and the house. Nothing. No lights and no sounds save the ticking of the cooling car engine. Maybe she took one of her afternoon naps and didn't set the alarm, he speculated as he gathered up his bags and crunched to the stoop.

At the front door, he was about to set down the luggage and go fishing for his key, but saw that the door was ajar just a crack. What the hell? This wasn't a rough neighborhood, not at all, but still...

"Sherl?" he called out softly. Paused a beat, and again, "Sherl?"

Alarmed, and beginning to entertain dark thoughts about burglars, home invaders, AJ draped his hanger bag over the suitcase, pushed tentatively on the door, strained to penetrate the blackness of the foyer.

Snick. Splat. Something struck him sharply on the forehead. Swamped by an adrenaline rush, he threw himself backward out of the doorway and flattened against the alcove wall, clawing frantically at his brow. A stick, a stem of some kind protruded from it. Horrified, he yanked at it, but it came away easily with a small pop. A familiar shape... a suction cup dart.

"Coup!" Sherl's voice, giggling.

AJ's shoulders sagged as he leaned his head back against the brick, gasped out "God dammit, Sherl, you damn' near gave me a heart attack!" More deep breaths for starved lungs. "Sherl, turn on a light, will you? It's black as pitch in there!"

Criiick. The unique sound of a spring-loaded dart pistol being recharged. "Sherl! Put that damn' thing down! I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm in no mood for this shit, and I'm coming inside!"

He snatched up his bags, crossed the threshold. Snick. Splat.

"Shit!" He yanked the dart off of his forehead.

"Coup! That's two!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You..." He froze. "Wait a minute, this isn't War Games!"

Criiik. Snick. Tap. The dart whizzed by his ear hit the door jamb.

"Yes, it is. It's Thuuursday."

AJ thought about it, ticking off the days on his fingers. "All right, it's Thursday. But come on, honey, I'm really bushed. I've crossed five time zones today and I..." Criiik.

"Put that damn' thing down!" he roared. Snick. Splat.

"Son of a BITCH!" he bellowed, charging into the foyer, groping wildly in the darkness.

"Coup!" He heard the pattering slap of bare feet on tile, receding. All right, aaall right, he mentally muttered as he fumbled for the wall switch, flipped it up. Nothing. Sidling and shuffling into the living room, his fingers found the table lamp switch, cranked it clockwise. Click. Nothing.

"Very funny, Sherl. Fucking hilarious. Now get set for a real hoot when I fall down the basement stairs in the dark." Silence. "I assume you just kicked off the breaker, right? You didn't remove the fuse, right?"

Criiik. "Wrong." Snick. Tap. The chin this time. "Coup!"

From the den... no, left side, has to be the kitchen. AJ squatted down, pulled off his loafers. The motion rattled his loose change and car keys, so he reached into his pocket, cupped them tightly and set them qui-etly on the carpet.

Criiik.

Oh no you don't! He hit the floor just before the snick. Missed! "Sherl, listen to me." Criiik. "Sherl! This isn't' fair! You know I've got lousy night vision, and you have eyes like a goddam cat. And I don't have a
pistol!" he shouted as he rolled over to find cover under the coffee table. "Sherl?" Snick. No telling where that one went.

She had to conserve darts, AJ guessed; meanwhile, he'd close in, dodge when he could. He rose to a crouch, duck-walked toward the kitchen... Snick. Splat.

"Coup!"

AJ peeled the dart off of his forehead, did a flying elbow roll and fetched up against the skirt of the sofa. Her eyes aren't THAT good, he reasoned. Maybe... yes! These damned trousers. Hard finished wool wishes when I move. Chortling silently, he rolled over onto his back and worked his way out of his pants and, for good measure, his boxers.

Criiik.

Okay, maybe the kitchen doorway. He narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth and listened. Yes... there! A toe joint popped. Tiny, minuscule, but palpable. A toe, a palpable toe. He sifted through his options. Direct assault? Take one certain hit, then close and grapple? Diversion, then a flank attack? Wait a minute, wait a minute... the kitchen has TWO doors, a flanking opportunity par excellence.

Grinning slyly, AJ groped the sofa for a throw pillow, found one, Frisbee-tossed it across the room. Somewhere between the thump of impact and the tinkle of breaking glass he heard a definite snick. Fell for it! Too bad about Mom's butt-ugly lamp, he giggled as he alligator-crawled backward along the sofa skirt. Certain he was out of the line of fire, he cautiously stood up, cursing his cracking knees. Inching along the wall, feeling for the dining room entry to the kitchen, AJ peered around the door mold-ing. Well, well, well. The ceiling smoke detector's battery light emitted just enough glow to highlight Sherl's bare outline as she crouched in the opposite doorway with her back to him, motionless. So much for all that Army Brat pride, he chortled inwardly. Didn't yo' daddy teach you the "fire and move" princi-ple?

"Hyah!" He sprinted across the kitchen tile, his cock doing whirlybirds and slapping against his stomach and thighs. The dart pistol clattered to the floor as Sherl sprang up like a startled deer, making a break for it into the gloom of the living room. AJ had inertia in his favor, though, and closed the gap in an all out rush. Blind in the dark, he smacked into her back, the impact driving them both into the love seat, over it, and onto the carpet with a mutual "whoof".

"Coup!" he wheezed, clamping her naked hips between his knees and groping for her arms, looking for a pin. "Han... huff...hand to hand rules, now!"

Sherl jerked her hips to the right, left, bucking and writhing. Otter-like, she wriggled and twisted her torso half around, reached up and pinched his teat through his shirt. "Ack!" He jerked back reflexively and she
slithered out from under him, laughing in short puffs as she scurried away on hands and knees. Lunging forward again, his palms slapped into the small of her back, slid down to the flare of her hips. "Gotcha!"

She tried to throw herself forward, but he buried his fingers in the rich flesh of her hips and dragged her backward against him, his cock riding up over the cleft of her ass.

"Surrender!" he gasped.

"Nevah! I'll fight you on the beaches... whuff... I'll fight you on the landing grounds, I'll..."

"So be it!" he roared triumphantly, drew back to let his cock slide down through the slick sweat between her cheeks and into the wet fur below, rammed it to the hilt deep in her pussy.

"Do you... hah... yield?" he puffed over the spluttering and sucking sounds of rapid fire piston fucking.

"Unh...never...unh...yield...unh...to a wimp..."

"Wimp? WIMP?" AJ slammed into her and smacked his open palm across her undulating ass.

"Wimp...unh...is that supposed...unh...to hurt?"

Even in the frenzy, AJ could feel Sherl's fingertips brushing up against his plunging cock as she reached back between her legs and massaged her clit in rapid, tight circles. He slapped her ass again, hard; right hand, left hand, timing it with his diving thrusts, felt her flooding response.

"Hold your...unh...fire...unh...almost there..." she gasped.

He felt the leading edge of her trembling fit, felt her pussy lock up around his cock and lunged into her once more, grinding his groin into her as she came with an ocelot scream, bucking her hips and drumming her feet on the carpet.

"Ahh...I yield...ahhh..."

"Too late," he panted, "you had your chance... no quarter!" and he let go in hot, pulsing gushes, following Sherl downward, pushing her forward as she collapsed onto her stomach, quivering and convulsing.

AJ tried to hold his weight off of her, but had no strength left in his trembling arms and shoulders, so he pulled out, trying not to think about the carpet as the floodgate opened, and collapsed on his back beside her. They panted companionably in the wan light of the moon rising behind the ferns in the window, cooling down, coming down. AJ felt Sherl's hand patting the carpet, finding his.

"AJ?"

"Yes'm?"

"You know I had at least three good coups, so I should've been on top tonight."

"Hey," he replied, "target of opportunity, kiddo. Well within the rules." He stretched, yawned. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"Next time I come home late on a Thursday night? Before I walk in that door I'm calling in an air strike."

Sherl chuckled, snuggled up against AJ, and they purred together in the warm dark.