Dawn came. Moonlight became sunlight, streaming thick through the gap in the shade covering Beck’s bedroom window. Simon’s eyes opened, the lids sticking together slightly. He rubbed them and yawned. For a moment the previous evening blurred in his mind; he’d had so many strange dreams while he slept. Then, the ground shifted beneath him, rising and falling. Beck heaved a happy sigh—he looked up, craning his neck to peer into her face, staring down at him.

He was still situated between her bare breasts, tucked in her bosom as though into bed. Neither lover had stirred from that position the whole night through.

“Good morning.” He smiled, staring up at her in amazement. “How long have you been awake?”

“About an hour,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded. If you needed to get up or…”

“It’s not that,” Beck breathed. “I was… Well. I’ve been watching you sleep.”

“Oh.” Simon’s heart stirred inside him, like a car motor starting up on a cold day. “Well—thank you for the, ah. The accommodations.” He put his hands out to either side of him, patting the globes that surrounded and penned him in.

Beck’s lips fluttered in a giggle—then a serious expression crossed her features.

“Simon?”

“Yehuh?”

Her eyes flicked away momentarily, her tongue working behind her lips. “Any regrets… from last night?” A little taken aback, Simon shook his head no. “Or the… evening before?” she persisted.

“None at all.” He twisted around so that he lay right side up on her chest. “What about you?”

“Nope.” Beck sighed happily—and with some relief as well. The gust of wind blew Simon’s hair back. “I just thought…” she said. “Well, I wondered…” She seemed to catch herself, smiling down at the tiny boy on her bosom apologetically. “Never mind. It was silly. I know you enjoyed it too.”

“I did,” he told her, grinning. “And… I know you enjoyed it.”

“The whole apartment building knows.” Beck pressed a hand to her flushing face. “Si, I swear I’m not usually… like that.”

“Like what?”

She flushed mightier still. “Loud like that. You just, I don’t know. Brought something out in me.”

Simon didn’t reply. He only grinned proudly, in spite of himself.

“I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough this morning,” Beck reported. “Are you ready to get up? I can get your clothes for you; you must be chilly.”

Now sitting cross-legged on her enormous bosom, Simon shook his head, still grinning. “Not at all. You’re warmer than a space heater. It’s like sitting on a hot plate.” Swiveling, he struck a cheesecake pose atop her warm skin, angling one pointed toe up in the air. “Ain’t I a dish?”

Beck nibbled her lip. “You’d better knock that off,” she breathed. “Before I have you for breakfast…”

“It’s not good to eat the same thing over and over again,” Simon mused. “Bad for you.”

“I’ll get a doctor’s note,” Beck retorted lustily.

Figuring he’d tease her a little further, Simon shrugged—and stood up suddenly, starting to make his way towards her mouth. “If you insist…” he said slyly. “But you’ll only be hungry again in a few hours. And you’ll have to face my big sister all on your pretty lonesome.”

Beck seemed to consider this, her tongue probing into her cheek. “Hrm. You make good points I guess. But I am a little hungry...” But she was blushing as well, unable to hide the color in her cheeks under the bright morning sun. When Simon reached the point of her chin, her hand appeared and scooped him off her body, bringing him swiftly towards her mouth—but instead of slipping him inside, she only pecked him chastely on the torso and stretched her arm out, placing him gently on the nightstand.

“Go on and get dressed,” she told him, already twisting off the bed to grab her shirt off the floor. “You keep talking like that and I don’t know what I’ll do—and then Milla will kill me for sure.”

A little shaken from the landing, Simon shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He found his clothes and quickly wiggled into them, hopping on one foot to get his pants on. Beck moved slower; when she turned around, she caught site of him sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the dresser, fists supporting his chin, looking up at her and smiling. She’d got her panties on over her shapely bottom, but her chest was still fully exposed. She made a move to cover herself, thought better of it.

“What are you looking at?” she teased.

“You. I didn’t get to see you from this angle. Just up close.”

Grinning, she gave a graceful twirl on the ball of her foot, then struck a pinup pose of her own. “Like what you see?” she asked through pouting lips.

His eyes devoured her. For a moment, words wouldn’t come. “Yes…” he managed to say at last.

Now it was Beck’s turn to look proud. “Never seen you lost for words before.” Wordlessly, she slipped on a dark red brassier and slid a plain black oversized t-shirt on over this, leaving her bottom bared save for her underthings as the shirt was nearly the length of a skirt. Then she placed her hand flat on the nightstand’s surface, crooking her fingers, welcoming Simon aboard her palm.

“Come on then,” she beckoned.

He scrambled up into the hollow of her hand, standing with his feet planted like he did when Milla held him instead of sitting cross-legged like before. “You’re more confident now,” he noticed.

Beck nodded, giving him a tight smile before setting her jaw. “I just hope it lasts,” she said.

He patted one of her crooked fingers. “It will,” he assured her. “I know it.”

Beck shut her eyes a moment, focusing herself like he’d seen her do before. Then she opened the bedroom door. The room had been dimmed by the window shades, so the full effect of the morning was nearly blinding. Simon threw up a hand to shield his eyes and Beck did the same. Instead of placing him on her shoulder, the larger girl simply let him ride on her palm as she wove back toward the kitchen. A warm and wonderful smell greeted them around the corner—frying bacon.

Milla was at the stove. Simon swirled with déjà vu, remembering the last time he and Beck had greeted his sister in this fashion. Without turning, she mumbled: “Oh—good. You’re up.”

She turned her head slightly, marking Simon in Beck’s hand with one eye. “Both of you…”

“Good morning!” Simon sang out. But he couldn’t put much oomph behind his tiny voice. Something in Milla’s tone rankled. A kind of falseness—a too-even timbre that gave away nothing.

“You make enough for three?” he continued, eyeing the pan.

“Enough for two—and a bite.” Here was one of their old jokes. But she still wouldn’t face them fully. And again, the tone of her voice stayed too even, too controlled. “You two… sleep all right?”

This time Beck answered. “I slept fine,” she stammered out, not speaking for them both.

“Oh—me too,” Milla returned. She turned around at last, a plate of piled bacon balanced on one hand, and a sly grin playing across her lips. “Only, not at first. I guess I was still wired from the trip from the colony transport station, and then there was the movie… I just couldn’t get to sleep at first. Finally I had to take one of my sleeping pills, and that seemed to knock me out just fine.”

“A sleeping pill,” Simon parroted suspiciously. Beck sat down at the nook table, laying her hand down on the Formica. But like before, Simon didn’t depart; he simply reclined in her soft palm, running fingers along the creases of her upturned hand.

“Uh-huh.” Mechanically, Milla distributed two plates, one for herself and one for her roommate. “I was out like a smashed bulb. You could have trucked a convoy through my bedroom.”

“Is… is that right.” Flushing mightily, Beck bit down on her lower lip to keep from saying more. She reached for a strip of bacon, unconsciously breaking off a corner and putting it in her hand next to Simon. But the tiny boy hardly noticed—even though his own stomach was growling nearly as loudly as Beck’s. Their exertions the night previous had given them both an appetite, it seemed.

But Milla was still grinning at them, now with her firsts propping up her chin.

“Although…” she purred. “Although… I did keep having just the strangest dreams.”

Without taking his eyes off his sister, Simon wrenched a chunk off the bacon hunk he’d been given and nibbled at it. His poker face held even, though his heart pounded in his ears.

“What sort of dreams.”

Milla didn’t eat. She toyed with a bacon strip between her fingers, even tapping it against her lips. But she didn’t bite. Then she sank her chin down onto her crossed arms, looking along the surface of the table at her little twin. “You remember that nightmare I used to get when we were kids?”

Simon nodded dubiously and chewed bacon.

“Well—it started off like that. I woke up, and you weren’t on my pillow. Or in your sleeping unit. I sat up in the night and I called out for you, and at first…”

Christ—now the teasing grin was unmistakable. Simon felt sweat beading along his forehead.

“Milla…”

“At first,” she interrupted, “I couldn’t hear anything at all. But then—down the hall. I heard a noise, not your voice but a woman’s voice. And well, from the sounds of it, she was having a terrible time sleeping too. Worse than me. Just… tossing and moaning and…”

“Milla…” A protest now in his small voice.

Milla tossed her head back, thrusting her hands below the level of the table and crossing her eyes in a mock-lewd expression. Simon heard Beck’s breath catch; from the corner of his eye, he saw her cover her blushing face with her splayed red-tipped fingers, her shoulders starting to quiver…

In as firm a voice as he could manage he said: “Mil… That’s enough.”

Through new giggles she protested: “I’m only describing what I…”

Simon cut her off with a shake of his bed-haired head. “I know what you’re doing.”

Milla sighed—and seemed to collect herself, putting her cheek in her hand. “All right, I guess that was a little mean. And a little gross.”

“A lot gross,” Simon put in. Milla continued:

“…only, I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon…”

Beck gulped—loud enough for Simon to hear. “Expected it. Expected… what?”

“Oh. I meant… you two. You and my brother.” Now it was Milla’s turn to look embarrassed.

Simon sat forward on Beck’s hand. “Milla. What are you talking about.”

She looked down at her brother fondly, and a little ashamedly.

“I guess I’d better tell you. Or rather… show you.”

Without another word, she stood up from the table, leaving Simon mystified. She went over to the fridge, crouching for something on a low shelf, and returned with two white plastic bundles in her hands. She spilled them out on the table. Two packages of feta cheese.

“Milla… I don’t understand.” But it was a lie, or almost a lie.

“You know how conscientious I am. Did you really believe I left the cheese in the cart at the store?”

Beck got the clue only a moment after Simon grasped it, but spoke first.

“You left us a-a-alone on purpose,” she spluttered. “Why?”

Milla looked pityingly across the table. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Her eyes flicked from Beck, to Simon in her cupped hand, back to Beck. Beck clapped her other hand over her mouth. Simon spoke for the both of them:

“You wanted this to happen. You wanted us to… to…”

“Never seen you lost for words before, Si.”

“Twice in one day!” He rolled his eyes at his own joke. “But why? How did you…”

“It was just a feeling,” Milla explained. “Beck told me she’d been hard up for it for a while. Then I saw how she was looking at you when she first came out of her bedroom. And I knew you were looking to meet people and make friends while you were in the city. So… I dunno. I rolled the dice.”

“Guess you got lucky,” Simon retorted.

“We both did.” It was Beck, speaking at last, her nerves washed away now. She curled her fingers around Simon’s body in an embrace. Simon patted the tip of her thumb, prompting a pleasant shiver.

“You’re not… upset then?” she continued, looking nervously at Milla.

“God, no.” Milla shook her head, grinning a little shyly. “I’m just glad you’re not more upset with me. Like I said—I didn’t think it would happen so quickly. I feel like I pushed you together.”

“Maybe we needed the push,” Simon replied.

“Are you being safe?” A questioning eyebrow from Milla. “I don’t need details, but… You know.”

Simon’s face burned like he’d stuck it too close to an open oven. “We’re…”

“I’m being careful,” Beck stammered out, a little too loudly.

“I know you’ll be careful.” Milla rolled her eyes. “I trust you just fine. It’s this one I’m worried about. He’s braver than anybody I know our size—and just as stupid.”

“I’m being careful too,” Simon assured her. His cheeks still burned, but there was an irresistible grin spreading his cheeks as well. The conversation hardly seemed real. But talking about it, out in the open like this, it made it real. It made it permanent. He looked back at Beck; the same stupid goofy grin was scribbled onto her lovely features as well, parting her red lips to show her front teeth.

“Then I don’t need to know any more than that.” Milla stood up one more time, returning this go-round with two glasses of orange juice. She passed one to Beck and kept the other for herself, holding it above the table as though she would give a toast.

“Look,” she said. “The world is shit. It’s always been shit. All we can do is grab a little happiness for ourselves wherever we can, however we can. So go on, you two crazy kids. Grab a little happiness.”

Then she did raise her glass, motioning for Beck to clink. “To joy,” she said.

“To joy,” came the reply. She lifted Simon as well, in her other hand, letting him participate in the toast. Simon felt warm all over. He looked from face to face, from Beck to his sister, as the conversation went on to other topics as though nothing amiss had happened. He chewed his bacon, hardly tasting the greasy flavor on his tongue. He was thinking of Beck. He was thinking about the future. He was thinking about the world, and everything it could offer him now. And everything he could offer it.

For the first time in his small life, he had something big to look forward to.

It was going to be one hell of a two-week visit.

A little happiness, Simon mused to himself.

Why—that’s exactly what I am.

END OF PART ONE!