Quince has never really cared for rules and regulations." Michael lapsed into silence as his mind started to fill with questions. How did the virus work? Did it just mask the old DNA or completely rewrite it?Paul could barely wait till Michael was ready. At last his nightmare was approaching its end. Soon he would be restored to full manhood. After a hurried breakfast they were soon on their way to Michael's lab.Paul's good mood was dampened somewhat as they neared Michael's workplace. "Stop the car!" he screamed.Michael slammed on the brakes. "What is it?" He asked.Paul scrambled out of the car and over to the sidewalk. Michael looked around to see what had upset Paul so much. All he could see was an empty street.Paul was looking down at the sidewalk where some broken glass was scattered. "Shit! Shit! Shit! My fucking car's been stolen!" shouted Paul in frustration. He should have known better than to leave his car in an area like this overnight. "They got my fucking credit cards as. The container. Right there. It is small,” he said, clarifying just in case but with words that seemed to be barely catching up to his thoughts.For a minute, Julia entered the same kind of zone the man had found her in, a kind of looking through rather than looking at. She looked at, through really, the ice-cream shopping man that stood, tall, wow he was tall, in the fancy-pants ice cream section. Then, in the same spaced out zone, she imagined his hand reaching for her the same way she’d imagined it reaching for the ice cream. Grabbing it, her, holding it all in the palm of his hand.She wanted to be his expensive lemon ice cream. She wanted to feel the warmth of his hands melt her.“Reach for me,” she whispered, her voice low and primal, almost more of a grunt. Wait, did she just say that out loud. What was happening.“What,” he said again, tilting his head, still holding the ice cream.Fuck it. Let’s do this. What would I say out loud if I wasn’t going to think about it, Julia thought..
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