Jack laughed. "You shouldn't spend so much time just sitting in the library." He disengaged himself from Arvin's hold and began walking again.

"Jack! Don't run like that!" Arvin trotted along beside him. "You trying to kill me, here?"

"You," Jack said, poking his companion in his solar plexus, "are going soft." But he slowed down a little bit for his shorter, skinnier friend.

"Going? Ha. I'm already there. Just ask Emily. I won her a teddy bear at the carnival yesterday. Er, a teddy lion, actually. With a blue robe and a crown."

Jack gave his friend a wide grin. "I'm going to bet that it wasn't at one of those 'see-how-high-you-can-pound-this-chunk-of-metal' strength contests."

"Ha! Yeah, right. No, I popped five balloons with darts."

"My hero!" Jack teased in falsetto. Arvin swung at him, but Jack danced out of range, laughing. "So she liked the lion?"

"Adores it. I think I'm jealous of it. Not only is it a king, but I hear it spent the night in her bedroom. My one bright spot of hope is that I think I got it beat on stimulating conversation and GRE scores. According to rumour, it's got stuffing for brains."

Jack caught Arvin's baseball cap - Yankees - and pulled it down over his eyes. "You are in entirely the wrong field of study. You should be in a comedy club, not Finance."

"What? You want me to go broke with only a joke?"

"As long as you don't croak." Even as he said it, Jack knew it fell short as a joke.

"Oooh, you can rhyme. I'm not going to suggest you try for a career in any funny business, though. Sorry, bud. You may have brains and brawn - which I am nearly as jealous about as that devil of a lion, by the way - but you completely lack a good delivery."

"Yeah, well, when I go into exporting, we'll see how bad my delivery is." He was pretty proud about that one. It was almost funny, he thought.

Arvin slapped his arm. "That was halfway decent, Jack! My sense of humour might rub off on you yet. You are entirely too dour most of the time. You know what you need? You need a girl. Like Emily, but not Emily, because Emily is mine. Or Emily is the lion's, depending on which of us wins this fight. But you know, a girl. Tell ya what. Come by the coffee shop on 3rd and Brass, tomorrow at noon, and I'll have one all picked out for you."

Jack shook his head, laughing. "I don't think so. Last time you tried to set me up for a date, I ended up in the movie theatre with the biology professor. And he's already married."

Arvin tried to look wounded. In mock solemnity, he raised his right hand, "Scout's honor, Jack!" he promised, but his fingers were blatantly crossed. Then the teasing light in his blue eyes abated. "Seriously, Jack, you're what? Twenty-three?"

"Yeah, though to listen to us, you'd think we were both twelve."

"Hey, the year's over, we've got good jobs lined up, and we're one ceremony away from being called 'Masters', I say we've a right to act like kids this week. Between us, I think it's spring fever. I caught a bad case of it at the carnival, and I am seriously contagious." Truthfully, Arvin was acting a lot more carefree today than he had in long while. Between finishing their theses, landing jobs (Jack was going back to the CIA, where he'd been secretly working for the last six years already, but Arvin didn't know that; Arvin though he was going to a company that exported airplane parts), a bright future, the carnival, and the upcoming graduation ceremony that Saturday, the sudden stress relief was enough to make anyone giddy.

"Dear Lord. The world does not need an outbreak of Arvin Sloanes, especially ones in your current mood."

Arvin grinned at him. "Better lots of me in this mood, than when I get depressed, huh?"

Jack laughed again. "Point taken."

"Now I was going to make a point. What were we talking about?"

"Completely lost the thread, I forget." It was a lie, but Jack was good at them now.

"Let's see, Emily, the lion, um, puns, guns, and nuns, the professor in the movie theatre, oh! Right. You need a girl."

"I do not need a girl, Arvin."

He shook a finger at Jack. "You say that because you don't have one. But look at me and Emily. We're getting married, you know. I told you that, right?"

Jack's eyes widened. "You did not! You're getting married?"

"I could have sworn I told you. Yeah. I popped the question at the carnival, just before I won her that twice cursed lion. She said yes." Arvin beamed. Even more than the other things going on, that alone accounted for his chatty goodwill. Spring fever, indeed. "You'll be my best man, of course."

"Wouldn't miss it."

"Great, now that that's settled, you'll need a date for the reception if nothing else. Because if you don't find one you like, I'll hook you up with someone worse than Dr. Whittler."

"That'd be difficult."

"That's what you think. But since my Grandfather died last year, I hear my Grandmother is looking for someone. Blue hair, wrinkles. Does a mean square dance, but needs an inhaler afterwards. Think she's your type?" His eyes danced in amusement.

Jack tried calling his bluff. "You would not do that to your grandmother."

"Wanna try me?" For a second, Jack wasn't sure. Into that moment of uncertainty, Arvin inserted his request. "You'll come to the coffeeshop tomorrow to meet the girl? I'll even have Emily check her out to assure you she's not a witch."

"Or male, over fourty, less than eighteen, married, or dangerously insane."

"You're getting picky, buddy. But I'll try to meet your requests." They walked in silence for a few blessed moments, then Arvin asked, "So you'll come to the coffeeshop and meet her, right?"

"You don't give up, do you?"

"I always get my way. It's part of my charm, I've been told."

Jack shook his head and sighed. "Fine. But Emily's got to tell me she met the girl, and she's not a cardboard cut-out or something. A witch is borderline acceptable, but be certain my other preferences are met."

"Customer satisfaction is guaranteed at Bank Sloane, Mr. Bristow." Arvin tipped his baseball cap at him, and he turned down a different path, toward the parking lot. Jack shook his head, increased his pace, and continued his walk around the campus. It was good exercise, and this was one of the last chances he'd have to do so.

The phone rang. Jack picked it up on exactly the third ring. If it had stopped after two, he'd know to go down to the fruit bagoda on the other side of town. "Hello?"

"Jack? This is Emily."

"Hey, Emily."

"Arvin told me to call you about the coffeehouse tomorrow."

Jack switched the phone to his other ear. "He actually went through with this? Emily -"

"She's a nice girl, Jack. With all the stories Arvin's been telling her, she's quite curious about you. You should at least meet her."

"So she's a living, female, human being. Does she have warts?"

There was a stunned silence on the other end. "Jack!"

"You didn't see the last one Arvin tried to hook me up with."

She laughed. "He told me about the April Fools joke he played on you last year. How did he get Professor Whittler to go along with it?"

"I don't even want to know. But the coffeeshop girl. You've met her?"

"Oh, yeah. She's sweet. Her name is Laura."

It couldn't possibly be this easy. Not with Arvin involved. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing! Jack, I swear, you are the most paranoid person on this planet. Just come to the coffeehouse and meet her. If you don't like her, that's fine. We're not committing you to marriage here. We're setting you up on a blind date. You trust me, don't you?"

"Ye-es," he conceeded, drawing out the word to let her think there was some doubt. There wasn't, though. Emily was one of the very few people to hold that distinction. Not even his best friend held his complete trust. Sure, he trusted Arvin with a lot of things - his friendship, for one. Even his life. But he'd never trust Arvin with something really important. Like setting him up on a blind date.

"Fine then," Emily returned tartly, as though taking offense, though he knew she knew he was joking around. "I'll see you at the coffeehouse tomorrow at noon."

"Bye, Emily." She hung up, and he placed the reciever back into its cradle. Laura. It was a nice name. Emily said she was sweet, and since Emily was sweet, Laura must be, too. Her nose was probably the size and shape of New Jersey. Still, Emily had given her seal of approval.

He approached his closet and looked through the clothes arranged there. One formal tuxedo. Suits, five of them, all pretty much the same. A sports jacket. Four striped collared t-shirts, two polo shirts. His drawer had some regular t-shirts but he only wore those to the gym lately. He came to the conclusion that his wardrobe was boring. But with all mens clothing shops closed at eleven o'clock on a thursday night, and final meeting with his advisor scheduled for the next morning, there was no time to buy a new outfit before the 'date'.

No. He stopped the line of thought there. This wasn't a date. This was a lunch at a coffeeshop with Emily and Arvin, and there would just happen to be a girl there that he didn't know. Big deal. It's a public place, there are always people there he doesn't know. Laura would just happen to be at his table this time around.

He was good. He was CIA. He could handle this. Blind date. Blind drop. They were only a few letters different. Now, put things in terms he was familiar with. Disguise. Ok. Definitely not the tux. He'd stand out like a hooker at an opera. The suits. No. He didn't want to make her think he was stuffy and boring. The collared tees or the polo shirts, then. (Regular tees were out of the question; they were all ratty and fit only for working out.) So. Take the meeting with his advisor under consideration. Collared tee. Which one? Emily hadn't breifed him on Laura's favorite color.

Not the grey one. Too dreary. Emily didn't like it anyway. The brown one? Probably not. One of the blue ones then. It's spring, go light. He pulled out the light blue striped collared tee, and inspected it for holes and stains. It passed. There. Simple matter of process of elimation, and he had his outfit picked out. Not a problem.

Jack entered at coffeeshop at exactly two minutes to twelve. He'd been loitering around the block for almost twenty minutes, but that was beside the point. Emily and Arvin were already there. They were sitting at a table with a third person. Laura was beautiful. The most lovely creature Jack had ever seen. Female, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four years old, no wedding ring. She sat with her back to him, but she was turned enough to give him her profile as she chatted with Arvin. Wonderful, dark hair fell to her shoulders. Emily, facing the door, saw him first, and pointed him out. The angel turned and looked at him. She smiled. It was a beautiful smile.

He felt himself blushing. CIA, he reminded himself, you're CIA, get a hold of yourself. You've been in sleezy clubs all over the world and you've never blushed like this. Well, except that once. "Hi," he managed. It was either a small miracle or a tribute to his training, but the word did not squeak. "I'm Jack." His self-introduction went flawlessly as well. Calm, collected. His face felt cooler, too.

"Laura," she told him. Her voice was lyrical, and just barely accented. He loved her voice.

He had planned to ask if she was a witch, to tease Arvin and start off with a joke. But that seemed like a horribly bad idea now. If his delievery wasn't perfect, she'd take it as an insult, and that was the very last thing he wanted to do. And he didn't need Arvin to tell him his punchline timing was, at best, poor.

He realized they were waiting for him to say something. The blush came back. "P-pleasure to meet you." He had stuttered. What was wrong with him? Blushing and stuttering. One might think he was nervous or something. Never a good thing to let people see you nervous. Particularly Arvin. He'd never let him live this down.

He took the empty seat between the two girls and opposite Arvin. "I've heard about you," Laura said.

"At least some of it good, I hope?" Was that anxiety in his voice? Control, Jack.

She laughed. It was a nice sound. Not too high or long, not wheezy or snorting. Just simple delight defined by pure sound. He decided he'd like to hear it again. "Much of it good, Jack."

"Good, then. Um, while you still have a high opinion of me, would you come to Emily and Arvin's reception with me?" He hoped that didn't sound as desperate as it . . . sounded.

She laughed again, just as perfectly as before. "I will. On one condition."

He managed not to blurt his first reaction 'name it', and settled instead for a wary "What condition?"

She looked at him sidewise. "You must take me to the carnival tonight and win me a lion."

Arvin buried his face in his hands and moaned, "Not only does Richard take Emily from me on the very night of our engagement, but now his brother, without even meeting her, takes Laura from Jack before they've known each other for five minutes."

Emily patted his arm. "Arvin, dear, it's only a last fling. You know you're the only one for me."

Jack grinned at them, then turned it to a smile for Laura. "I'd be honored to win you a lion tonight, my lady."

"See?" Arvin told her, "Didn't I tell you he was selfless and heroic?"