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... p>

--Ian Fleming, Goldfinger, 1959

***

"Can I come?"

I think Myalis might have been impressed by just how quickly I came to a conclusion on that question.

"Fuck no," I said.

Lucy pouted at me, which was downright lethal. She was in bed, wearing a blanket and nothing else. She tugged it up and around her neck a little, so that the only part of her I could see was her chubby-cheeked pout. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because it's dangerous?" I asked the ...

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