Dr. Garcia was applauding. "Terrific! Unbelievable. Like everything else about this case. Winnie! Can you do that?"

Joan flowed upward, was standing. "Sure she can! Skin ‘em off, dear, and show Doctor."

The nurse blushed deeply. "No, I can't. Don't believe her, Doctor; I'm just learning."

"Oh, fuff. I have to steady her only a little. Come back in two weeks, Doctor, and she'll do it by herself. It's not hard—just takes angleworms in your ancestry."

"Which you seem to have. But, if Winnie didn't teach you, where did you learn it, Joan?"

(Oh, oh! Watch it, Boss—he smells a mouse.)

"How old are you, Doctor?"

"Eh? Thirty-seven."

"I learned it about forty years before you were born. But didn't have time to keep it up," she went on. "Then for many years didn't have the physique even to try. But it all came back so easily that I am forced to assume that Mrs. Branca was better at it than I was even as a limber kid." (Let's see him check that, sweetheart.) (Never make a lie too complicated, Boss.) (Look, infant, I was lying with a straight face when your grandmother was in rompers. Erase and correct—your great-grandmother.)

"Well... I'm going to write it up as part of your final physical—if I can figure out how to describe it. Your robe, Joan?"

"Thank you." She took it and held it, instead of presenting her back for him to put it on her. "Doctor, Mr. Salomon will be settling your fees and expenses. But, to show my great appreciation, I want to add something."

He shook his head. "A doctor should not accept more than his fee...and, I assure you, mine are high."

"Nevertheless I want to." She dropped the robe. "Winnie, turn your back, dear." She went straight into his startled arms, put up her face to be kissed.

He hesitated about one heartbeat, then put his arms around her and kissed her. Joan sighed softly, her lips came open, and she flowed more closely against him—

(Don't faint! Let's not miss any of this.) (Don't bother me, Eunice; I'm busy!)

The Doctor broke from it, caught his breath, and looked at her soberly. Then he reached down, recovered her robe and held it. Joan let him put it on her, then said, "Thank you, Doctor." She turned and smiled.

"Um. I think I can honestly report that you are in excellent physical condition. Mr. Salomon is waiting."

"Please tell him I'll be out in a moment."

Joan waited until the door closed. Then she went into Winifred's arms and giggled against her shoulder. "Winnie, did you turn your back? Didn't you peek a little? I hope."

"I turned my back. But I had a full view in the mirror. Whew!"

"Whew twice. So that's what it feels like. Honey, I don't feel nearly so virginal now."

"Is he good? It looked like it."

"I don't know. I have no way to judge. Dear darling Jake kisses me; you've seen him—but just ‘uncle' sort of pecks. And you kiss me—and yours aren't pecks. But you're a girl and smaller than I am. Doctor is the first man who has really kissed me... and it made me feel so little and helpless that I darn near dragged him down onto the mat. You've never kissed him?"

"Him? Joan honey, if I told any of the nurses about this, I would not be believed. Dr. Garcia doesn't even pat bottoms; he just growls."

"He patted my bottom. I think he did. Things were fuzzy right then."

"I know he did. 1 saw it and didn't believe it. Joan? You wouldn't have made me skin down. Would you?"

"Why not? I was."

"Yes, but you're a patient. I'm a nurse, I'm supposed to be a robot and a chaperon."

"Only we know you're not. Don't we?"

"Well... anyhow I can't do that one; it's much too hard."

"I told him to come back in two weeks and you'd be able to. Shall I remind him?"

"Oh, Joan! You're teasing me again." The redhead added thoughtfully, "Do you really think I could, by myself, in only two more weeks?"

"I know you can. But not in clothes, not even tights. So if you are going to blush and go chicken, I had better not remind dear Doctor."

"Uh... that did look like quite a kiss. But Paul wouldn't like it."

"Wouldn't like what? Your demonstrating precision body control to a doctor? Or kissing a doctor? Or what the kiss might lead to? And how is Paul to know if you don't tell him?" (Boss, you are corrupting the youth of the land.)

(Egg feathers, Eunice. Either Paul won't marry her... or he's married and can't. Either way he's got no business monopolizing her. As you pointed out, sex is not a sport, it's for being happy.)

"Uh...Doctor wouldn't kiss me, anyway. He doesn't even know I'm female."

"Never believe it. You—are and he's not stupid. He'll kiss you if I suggest that it's the applause expected for a perfect performance. You've got two weeks to make up your mind, and right now I've got to go see dear Jake."

"—having business before this Honorable Court draw nigh!" —"May it please the Court, while Petitioners are ready to proceed, may they respectfully invite to the Court's attention that no proper foundation has been laid. This matter relates to the competency of Johann Sebastian Bach Smith, grandfather of the four Petitioners...and Counsel is not aware that he is in court."

"Order! There will be order in the court—at once. Or the room will be cleared. Counsel, are you suggesting that Miss Smith—this young lady at whom I am pointing—is not Johann Sebastian Bach Smith?"

"Counsel suggests nothing, Your Honor. I merely note that we have nothing in the record to show that the person at whom the Court pointed is Johann Sebastian Bach Smith—and that the question of competency cannot be considered until proof of identity is indubitably established."

"Is Counsel attempting to instruct this Court in the law?"

"Oh, not at all!"

"It sounded like ‘that. May I remind Counsel that this Court sits today in equity, not in law—and that the procedures are what the Court says they are."

"Most certainly, Your Honor. I regret if I inadvertently sounded otherwise."

"You were one-sixteenth of an inch from contempt, and don't let it happen again."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"…as I am sick and tired of the behavior of about fifty percent of the spectators and at least ninety percent of the press, I order the Bailiff to clear the room. Use a platoon, Evelyn, and clear these cattle out of the chutes promptly—and if that fancy video equipment is damaged in the process, we won't worry about it.

"Counsels, Petitioners, Guardian, and Ward—putative ward, let the record show—will adjourn to my chambers while we get this silly hassle cleared up."

"Jake, this is fun! If I'm not me, then I'm flat broke and footloose. You'll have to marry me—to keep me off

Welfare."

"Johann, shut up that drivel. This is serious."

"Jake, I refuse to see doom. If I'm not me, then I'm dead and it would be worth being broke to hear my will read and see the faces of my loving descendants when they discover that they wind up with trivial incomes that aren't even tax-free. Jake, every rich man wants to hear his will read—and I may get the chance."

"Hmm. Under the theory they seem to be following, Eunice is entitled to hear your will read—remember that paragraph about ‘all persons not specifically named who are in my personal and private employ at the time of my demise—'"

"Can't say that I do, but if you put it in, it's there."

"It's there. If you're not Johann, then you have to be Eunice. It's an ‘either-or' " (Nope! It's both.) (Eunice, this is going to be fun?) (I think so, too, Boss.)