© 2024 Duleigh Lawrence-Townshend. All rights reserved. The author asserts the right to be identified as the author of this story for all portions. All characters are original. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story or any part thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review or commentary.

This story was written for the April Fools Day Story Contest 2024. Any similarity between any character in this story and any person in real life is merely coincidental. Except for Ambassador G'Nkqp, that was intentional. He's been begging me to write him into a story for two years.

I Don't Do April Fools

A Personal Journey

Nancy Allen was a smart, adventurous woman in her early thirties. She was a computer networking genius, a Colorado snow bunny, a cheerful prankster, and she preferred to be called Honey. She was a five foot four inch tall fireball with dark blond hair, blue eyes, with a narrow waist and round hips. Honey had beautiful breasts, but most people noticed the tiny birth mark just to the right of her full red lips long before they noticed her breasts. At school, she was accused by her classmates of having communicable skin diseases when she was a child, but the mark was just a mole. Her grandpa called her Honey West after a 1960s TV character who had a similar "beauty mark."

She was teased mercilessly in school and after a day of teasing from the brutal 5th grade girls; she came home in tears. "Don't you let them get under your skin," said Grandpa. "That mark tells the whole world that your grandpa loves you and thinks you're perfect in every way."

After drying her tears and sending her off with a bowl of freshly cut fruit, Honey settled down in the living room to watch wrestling, but she heard her grandparents talking. "That's not going to stop her from getting teased," said Grandma.

"She's going to get teased," said Grandpa. "I just want her to realize that it's not because of her, it's because of them."

"She wants to have it removed," said Grandma. "She thinks her mole makes her an outcast."

"I know bullies," said Grandpa. "If she got it removed, they'll just find something else to pick on her about. It's a never ending cycle. She needs to realize that it's not her, it's them. They're just jealous, hate filled little brats whose mothers don't even know who their father is."

"James Madison Allen! You can't be talking about people like that."

It didn't matter if he could talk about people like that or not, Honey heard him and went to school armed with knowledge to her harassers' backgrounds. After lunch was recess, a chance to go outside and get some fresh air and burn off energy, but for Honey, it meant being taunted and teased by Olivia Spoth and her gang. Olivia was tall, almost five foot ten, with long red hair and a tribe of followers. She saw Honey and started immediately. "Moldy Nancy! Moldy Nancy! When's your face going to rot off?"

"Leave me alone," said Honey.

"Did you get that from a rat bite? Or was it radiation?" taunted Olivia.

"It means that my grandpa loves me and nothing else," said Honey.

"He just said that because Moldy Nancy was crying," said Olivia and with fists rubbing her eyes, she imitated a baby crying.

"You're just jealous because my mother knows who my father is, and you can't say the same thing."

That must have touched a nerve. "You can't talk about my mother that way," and Olive gave Honey a slap across the face. Rather than running off and crying, the only thing that came to Honey's mind was "What would The Rock do?" and the fight was on. It took four nuns to pull the wrestling, punching girls apart, and Sister Ann Rita, a junior nun, was assigned to see to Honey.

"She hit me first!" demanded Honey.

"I know, I saw the whole thing, and a poorer display of pugilism I've never seen," said Sister Ann Rita. She might as well be speaking Martian, because her Irish accent was alien lingo in residential Thornton, Colorado.

"My grandpa said that they're never going to stop teasing me."

"The way you fight, I can see why," said Sister Ann Rita as she cleaned a scrape on Honey's cheek. "Girl, ye got to keep your hands up, protect your face." She took Honey's hands in hers, formed them into fists, and held them up high, protecting her face. "Oi grew up with seven brothers, I know a bit about fighting. Now what started this?"

"I don't know," Honey shrugged. "My grandfather says her mother doesn't know who..."

"Tut tut tut! I heard enough young lady. That will start a fight good and sure. You know how to start a fight, but do ya know how to end a fight? Hmm? You tell that grandfather of yours to put his money where your mouth is and get you some boxing lessons."

Honey told her grandfather, who immediately enrolled her in karate lessons and by the time she went to college she had a brown belt and Olive Spoth was long forgotten. She became a strong, self-confident woman, a network engineer with Adelphia, and unlike most of her colleagues, she had a wicked sense of humor that she inherited from her grandfather.

April Fools was Honey's number one Holy Day of obligation. She had hundreds of pranks that were sure-fire April Fool's gold and Honey had hundreds of uses for clear nail polish. It was her weapon of choice. Her pal Lester watched in awe as she first poured some clear nail polish on a piece of wax paper, then painted a bar of soap with the nail polish.

"Ok," said Honey as she explained her favorite prank. "If someone leaves their computer unsecured, you take a screenshot of their desktop, then you set the screen shot as their desktop wallpaper. The clincher is when you set windows to hide all icons and shortcuts on the desktop and hide the task bar."

"What happens?"

Honey grinned. "Then nothing works, he'll try to click on the short cuts, even the start button and nothing will work. When he thinks he's clicking on his start button, he'll just be clicking on his wallpaper." Honey took her hair dryer and blew it on her bar of soap to get the clear nail polish dry.

"That's just evil, I love it! I love what you're doing with the soap too. But what's with the wax paper?" Lester was definitely going to try some of these pranks on his boyfriend.

Honey's blow drier soon had the nail polish on the soap dry so she could flip it over and coat the bottom. "The wax paper? That's my favorite." She peeled the dried puddle of nail polish from the wax paper and held it up. "You know how Dex loves his laptop? When he gets back from break, he's going to find a spill on his laptop." She laid the puddle back down and glued an empty polish bottle to it horizontally. It looked like the bottle spilled and left that puddle. Dexter was going to shit!

"Oh, he's going to die!" Lester was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. Dexter is a nerd among nerds. He probably tosses off to R rated anime, and he loves his laptop. It's an Acer 21X Predator, a big machine with a huge, 21 inch curved display.

"And the soap?"

"The soap is for Arnold." Arnold Morse was her boyfriend, but Lester calls him Carey, as in Carey Grant. He's tall, slim, and handsome with jet black hair, a square chin, a straight nose and a smile that moistens panties throughout the Denver area. And to top it off, he has a slight British accent. Unfortunately (for Lester) he's straight. For Honey, he's perfect in every way except for one big item. He doesn't do April Fool's Day. He hates April Fool's day, but Honey intends to break him of that bad habit.

"What else do you have for him?" asked Lester, as Honey started the second coat of clear nail polish on the bar of soap.

She tossed a few Trojan Magnum XL condoms on the table. The Trojan Magnum XL is the largest condom made by Trojan. "I was going to toss a few of these on the nightstand."

"Trying to make him jealous?"

"No, probably not. That's his size anyhow," said Honey as Lester's jaw dropped in shock and envy.

"Now you're making ME jealous."

She added some more polish to her laptop puddle. "Check this out," and she showed Lester some clear plastic tubes about three inches long.

"What's that for?"

She produced Arnold's bottle of three in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, slipped a plastic tube over the spout of the bottle and began blowing it with her hair drier. The plastic tube shrank tight to the spout of the bottle and was soon invisible. "Now he'll have to use the soap," she said with a grin.

"Girl, that is so devious! I should be taking notes."

"Take good notes," she said as she gave the heat shrink treatment to his toothbrush and toothpaste. "I need to get the house set up," she said as she grabbed his toiletries. "He's coming in a few minutes to take me out. We're going to dinner then up to his place in Breckenridge tonight and ski all day and hot tub all night." She glanced around and whispered, "I think he's going to pop the question!"

"Girl! I'm so happy for you!" said Les, as he gave her a hug. "Now if you can get him to crack a joke on occasion..."

"Here," she said as she put the puddle she made in a small Pizza Hut box. "In case I don't get back on Monday, you do Dexters laptop."

"I would be honored," gushed Les.

"I have to go get dressed," and Honey headed back to the bedroom. Moments later, Arnold Morse came in the front door of her apartment.

"How are you doing today Lester?" said Arnold cheerfully as they shook hands. "You look wonderful."

Was he being sarcastic? thought Les. Arnold was wearing an immaculately tailored gray suit that probably cost more than what Les makes in a year. His brightly colored silk tie probably equaled a week's pay. Brimming with jealousy, Les said, "I'm fine, Honey and I were getting some of her April Fool's Day pranks ready for the big day on Monday."

"Ah yes, Honey and her pranks. Maybe she will pull one on me some day, eh?" chuckled Arnold. Actually, Honey pulled pranks on Arnold all the time. He just doesn't get them.

"I don't know," said Les. "She's really crazy for you, she doesn't want you running off."

"Aww, I'm going nowhere Les, you can tell her that for me."

"No problem," Les was shocked at how much Arnold sounded like Cary Grant.

"Ok, I'm ready!" gushed Honey as she stepped out from her bedroom into the living room. She was wearing an emerald green long sleeve cocktail midi dress with a plunging neckline that playfully showed off her cleavage. As Honey came up to Arnold, and he drew her in for a kiss. She craned her head back, and he leaned over and they kissed long and sweet, their tongues gently touching.

Finally, they broke the kiss and Arnold stepped back and sighed. "That was simply wonderful. Those are kisses a man lives for."

"Let's go find something that a woman lives for," said Honey in a growling voice that left no one with a guess of what was on her mind. Arnold picked up her overnight bag and snowboarding boots and she carried her purse and makeup bag out.

"Take good care of A'Tuin!" Honey called out to Les as they left.

"I will, have fun." Les was cat sitting Honey's eight-year-old long hair tortoise-shell cat named A'Tuin who, unlike his namesake, never had an elephant stand on his back.

Out in the snow lined parking lot Arnold led Honey to his car. "Is this it?" squealed Honey.

"Yes ma'am! It finally arrived." His car was a majestic work of art, a brand new Maserati MC20 Cielo Spider. It was a two door aquamarine rocket with a "gulping guppy" grill, forged spoke wheels, gloss blue brake calipers, and tinted windows that barely met Colorado standards. The 3.0 liter V6 engine, with twin turbos, pumped out 621 HP and could reach 60 MPH in three seconds with a top speed of 202 mph. Inside it was a marvel of electronics with dual ten inch digital displays.

He opened the rear hood and showed her that the "boot" had barely enough space for her overnight bag and makeup case. "It gets warm in here, let's put your makeup case in the front," he said, then opening the front hood, he placed the makeup case in the tiny space available up front. Arnold opened the butterfly door, and she eased her divine ass into the heated leather seat. Joining her in the car, he pressed the start button on the steering wheel and the engine rumbled to life.

Arnold had to wait eleven months for his new Maserati, and he was proud of it. He goosed the gas pedal, and the V6 roared. The sound of that monster's bellow echoed off the surrounding apartment buildings. He gave her a playful wink, dropped it in gear, and eased out of the parking lot. A deep throated purr escaped the exhaust pipes as they pulled on to Arapahoe Road, then became a bellow as Arnold brought her up to traffic speed. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Does it have a roof?"

"Oh, sorry." He slowed down to 30 mph and, with a touch of a button, the back of the car opened, and the glass roof swung out and landed in place. She watched in awe as a touch of a button turned the glass roof an opaque gray that matched the interior leather upholstery. Another touch turned it transparent.

"I didn't expect you could afford something like this on your airport salary," said Honey.

"I don't work for the Airport Authority. I work for another interested organization," he said with a smile. He probably said too much, but she was going to find out someday.

"What do you do?" she asked for the hundredth time.

This time he answered, "my job is best described as a concierge. I facilitate meetings and gatherings, occasionally I arrange rooms for VIPs who need to remain overnight during a long meeting and that's as far as I'll go."

"So you introduce the aliens to the humans?" grinned Honey. There's a standing conspiracy theory that Denver Airport is a spaceport that caters to aliens of all races and species.

"You are a bright woman Honey, you would fit in with the Reptilians." He sounded like he was kidding.

"Do they have any openings?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Let's talk about that later," he grinned and swung on to I-25 northward. They roared up I-25, dodging through the winter traffic, the Maserati drawing stares from the other drivers as they sailed along. He turned off I-25 on to US 6, where they headed west.

"Where are we going? Golden?" asked Honey.

"Breckenridge," smiled Arnold, and they proceeded directly to Golden.

"I'll take your word for it," she said, and they soon rolled into the north end of Golden at the base of the Front Range. But then Arnold followed US 6 up past Golden and into the mountains. "I love this drive," said Arnold. "There's nothing like it in England. You have to go to France to see something like it."

Honey sighed. He spoke of traveling to France, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Spain like they were easy to get to. Weekends in Greece, running naked on the beach in Spain, spending a three-day weekend in Egypt... Honey never thought of herself as a traveler, but it would be nice to see those places. So far she's seen Colorado and Ft. Lauderdale (but she doesn't remember much of Spring Break).

Soon they were heading up the Clear Creek Canyon, the road weaving and following the snow and ice covered creek. US 6 in this canyon used to be a railroad roadbed, so the climb was easy, never exceeding 2% and the curves were gentle and just begged for a supercar. Sheer mountain walls grew up on either side of them and as they passed through each of the six tunnels, Arnold floored the Maserati and that V6 bellowed in delight as he unleashed all six hundred horses. The ride was smooth and beautiful; the mountains were breathtaking as they grew taller and more majestic as they traveled deeper into the front range. Soon they rejoined I-70 and were racing past Idaho Springs, then the road curved south, following Clear Creek past Empire Colorado. Now the mountains were taller, more menacing, and they were heading up.

"If I had grown up here in Idaho Springs or Empire or Georgetown I would have spent every summer in a cast," said Arnold. "I love climbing mountains. I'm just not very good at it." The climb became steep, and they sailed past slow-moving trucks in the right-hand lane and eventually they were at the Eisenhower Tunnel. These were the highest vehicle tunnels in the United States and the longest vehicle tunnel. At 1.7 miles long, he could let that Maserati sing as loud as it wanted. Honey's ears were ringing when they exited the tunnel.

Following the steep plunge from 11,000 feet to Silverthorn, they turned and headed south through Frisco. He pulled up in front of a building that looked like an old-fashioned western building that could have been anything, a warehouse or a small factory. The lower floor was a bookstore, but Arnold led her upstairs to a beautiful, intimate restaurant. "Oh my," she gasped. She's been in and out of Frisco her entire life. She's even bought books in the Next Page bookstore downstairs, and never knew that a restaurant existed in the building.

"Monsieur Morse!" gushed the maitre'd with genuine affection.

"Claude, I thought we've been over this," said Arnold with a smile as he handed his overcoat to the coat check and took Honey's coat.

"Yes, Arnold. I know, but the owner has expectations. Is this Miss Allen?"

"Claude Deveraux, this is Nancy Allen, the woman that owns my heart."

"Call me Honey," said Nancy. "I prefer it."

"Honey it is, and Mister... uh Arnold, your table is ready," and he led them to an intimate table with candlelight and fabulous China. As they walked to the table, several people said hello to Arnold. Honey was sure that one of them was the governor.

They sat and Arnold said, "do you mind if I order for you?"

Feeling adventurous, Honey said, "Please do Mister Morse."

When the waiter came, Arnold ordered in French, so Honey didn't know what he was ordering. When he was done, he smiled and said, "Whenever possible, meals should be ordered in French."

"Why?"

"Well, what would you prefer to have, nouilles et fromage, or mac and cheese?"

"You make a valid point." Soon she was presented with a bowl of linguini and clams in white wine cream sauce. Her absolute favorite meal. "I had no idea you were ordering it!" she gasped.

"That's the power of the French language. No one understands it except the French," Arnold chuckled. His dinner was the lamb shank with parmesan risotto and a vegetable medley. They ate and sipped an absolutely perfect wine and as she talked about the pranks she planned to play on her coworkers on Monday morning, Arnold fell deeper and deeper in love with Honey. Her dancing blue eyes enchanted him, her laugh called out to his heart, and he hoped that when the time comes, she says yes.

"That was perfect," said Honey as they left the restaurant, and the valet brought the car to them.

"How many miles did you put on it, Juan?" Arnold asked the valet.

"Not as many as usual, these things bog down in the snow off road," said the young fellow with a wink. Arnold tipped him handsomely and, getting in the car, he saw that the odometer had barely crawled up a tenth of a mile. "He's a good lad," he muttered.

"Where now?" asked Honey. "A nice little cabin in the woods with a crackling fire and maybe a bear skin rug?"

"I was thinking of a high-end hotel room with steam bath and hot tub, but, let's compromise."

"Let's do!" the linguini and clams did their magic on Honey, and she was ready for anything, from jogging nude in the snow to a long nap. As they neared Breckenridge, they turned off the main highway and followed a gravel road up the mountain. It was dark when they left the restaurant and Honey couldn't see where they were going, but the lights on the Maserati lit the mountain like daylight. They eventually pulled up to a large log and stone construction house that Honey would call a mansion. "Mansion? No, it's my house."

"You're kidding!" gushed Honey. She knew his apartment was not his primary home, but she didn't expect this. He pulled into the basement garage and gathered Honey's bags, then led her up a staircase to the main floor. The main room was an open concept with an enormous kitchen on her left, a gigantic fireplace on her right and straight ahead a wall made of glass doors that open out on to a wooden patio with a large hot tub. The furnishings were pure Colorado, the chairs and couch were made of logs and the cushions were covered with western inspired patterns and colors. Above the fireplace an Elk's head was mounted and several upland game birds were mounted as well. Pheasants and grouse were represented, but Honey didn't recognize the other birds. On the floor was a faux mountain lion pelt rug, and several sheep pelts were available to cuddle under.

Arnold took her coat and hung it up in the bedroom closet, then came back out into the living room. He turned a knob by the fireplace and the natural gas starter burst into flame and started setting fire to the wood that was stacked on the andiron. Then he came to Honey and took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, a sweet, hard kiss that left her head spinning. "Mmmm, I love you," she purred.

"I love you too, but there's a problem."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You're overdressed. He slowly ran the zipper down the back of her dress and with a shrug of her shoulders it pooled at her ankles and Honey stood naked in front of Arnold smiling up at him. "Bloody hell, if I knew you were starkers under your dress I wouldn't have wasted time stopping for dinner."

"If I knew you were that needy I would have crawled under the table and given you a blowjob during dessert."

"And I would have let you," said Arnold. He turned to the bar before she could start undressing him and he asked, "What would you like to drink?"

"White wine, please."

Arnold smiled as he prepared her drink and Honey started feeling self-conscious as she stood naked with her dress around her ankles. For his part, Arnold basked in the view of her body. She had beautiful round breasts with dark pink nipples and small areola. Her tummy was flat, and her hips round, a perfect yet slim little hour-glass figure, and she trimmed her bush clean. Arnold drank in the sight of her from behind the bar. He finally came up to her and handed her the wine. "There's no roofies in here are there?" she asked.

"Heavens no. That's so 1998. Besides, you're already naked. Come on, I'll show you around." He picked up her dress and draped it over his arm and led her toward the front door and said, "my little cabin was built by a young businessman who made a huge profit selling his company like I did. He loved having guests up for ski weekends." Arnold showed her a room with three sets of bunk beds and six small dressers.

"Cool," said Honey.

"My bosses grandchildren love this room, they never got to sleep together like that."

"Cousins? Cousins tend to have a lot of fun as kids."

"Here's two guest bedrooms," said Arnold as he showed off a pair of bedrooms that were larger than Honey's living room. Each one had a gas fireplace. Next was an enormous bathroom with a shower that would easily fit four. A brass plaque on the glass door gave instructions on operating the steam shower.

"Your shower is a steam bath?"

"It feels great after a day of skiing."

"I didn't bring my ski clothes, or my boots, or my snowboard."

"Then I suppose we'll go shopping tomorrow," he said as he led her to the master bedroom. The master bedroom was a combination bedroom, reading room, library, and sunroom. It shared the big fireplace in the living room and it had two enormous walk-in closets. "Be honest with me," said Arnold as he hung her dress in the closet. "How does it feel walking around naked while I am dressed?"

"It's... it's really sexy. I'm constantly wondering what you're going to do next."

"Like what? What is going through that delightful mind of yours."

"Like a spanking," she said as her blue eyes locked on to his gray eyes.

"Would that be a turn on?" he asked.

"Yes... I mean maybe."

"How about serving drinks naked to a room full of strangers that you will never see again, knowing that they can't touch you, but if you do a good job, I will reward you in the sexiest way possible..." his words drifted off as their lips met.

Just the thought of serving drinks completely naked and anonymous was a huge turn-on to Honey. How did he know? She's had many a night of Jilling-off thinking of doing similar things. "Think of it, this room full of powerful men and women, and you're only wearing a tiny apron. Conversations stop when you walk by..." They kissed again and when their lips parted, his fingers brushed her nipples, and a jolt ran through her body. Arnold smiled, and he undressed, starting with his tie that he draped over Honey's shoulders. "Jacuzzi?" he asked, and she nodded. Her mouth and throat were too dry to form words.

Soon he was hanging his trousers in the closet and was only wearing boxer shorts. He stripped those off and turned to put them in the hamper, and Honey hugged him from behind. She reached around and began stroking his long, thick cock while she kissed his shoulder blades. "My! We are eager, aren't we?" Arnold enjoyed the reach around handjob for a few moments. The feeling of her breasts pressing against him from behind was delightful. Finally, he said, "Come on," and he led her back into the living room. He hit a couple of switches and grabbed a remote control, and they stepped out onto the deck.

Café lights hung over the hot tub and changed color gently as he flipped the lid of the hot tub open. He hit another button on the remote and a fire in a fireplace next to the jacuzzi burst into flame and soft jazz music filled the air. The snow fell gently, but Honey didn't notice it. Arnold had her excited to a fever pitch, and she was in awe of everything she's seen tonight. The Maserati, dinner at an exclusive restaurant, then this mountain retreat... it's all too much. Is this the same man who has the simple one-bedroom apartment in her complex?

He led her by the hand, and she climbed the steps to the decking around the lip of the hot tub before easing into the tub. The jacuzzi had a narrow deck on the sides and a wider deck at the front and a gazebo decorated with colored café lights covered the jacuzzi. "I get it now," said Honey. "You rented all of this and Monday you say, 'April Fools!' and reveal you're just an average Joe with a nice accent."

Arnold looked hurt. "I don't do April Fools, and Honey dear, you have it backward. THIS is my life; my apartment is merely a place for me to sleep during the week."

"What do you mean?"

"When I first came to Colorado, I hated the city. But the mountains! I've lived up here for years, and when I was hired at the airport I spoke with the home office and said that if I had to live in Denver I wasn't going to take the job, so they allowed me to make my permanent residence here in Breckenridge as long as I could respond during the week."

Several months ago, the management of their apartment complex had a Halloween party, and she had just moved in. It was her first truly nice apartment, and she wanted to mix in with the other residents. She went to the party, and that's where she met Arnold. When he told her he worked at DIA, she figured he was some executive in their management tier, but he never said exactly what his job was. Honey was determined to discover the nature of his job and Arnold knew it, so he treated her queries with humor.

"This is incredible," sighed Honey as the snowflakes wheeled around and the steam rose off the bubbling water of the jacuzzi. "Do you do this all the time?"

"Yes, very much so. Especially after a day of skiing or mountain biking. I sit out here and watch the stars and listen to music, or sit by the fire and listen to the nighttime creatures."

"I'm sure that the non-stop string of girls keeps you in shape."

"No, there's no string of girls. The rumor that I'm gay has permeated the Breckenridge scene and the women are friendly, but they stay away in droves."

"Who would start a rumor like that?" asked Honey, then she saw Arnold grinning. "You're pulling my leg, there's no rumor like that."

"No, the rumor exists, it very much does," said Arnold, still grinning.

"So... you started the rumor?" He continued to grin as he nodded his head. "Why would you do that?"

"I had a company, Morse Aggregate, and I made a fortune selling rocks, sand, and gravel left over by the mechanized mining of the early twentieth century. I quickly attracted flighty birds that wanted nothing more than weed, coke, and more weed. In a short while, I got very tired of monosyllabic conversations. I started a rumor that I was gay, and the flighty birds flew away."

"Then what did you do?"

"You Americans heard my accent and thought I was an intellectual or an artist and started clustering around my door. Others heard of Morse Aggregate cleaning up old mining sites, and they decided I was a foaming at the mouth environmentalist."

"So, what are you?" asked Honey. She couldn't believe that they've been dating almost six months, and this was the first time he's spoken to her of this. Then again, it's the first time he's brought her up to his "chateau."

"I'm a foaming at the mouth capitalist. You Americans dug up all that rock and gravel a hundred years ago looking for flecks of gold and left huge piles of rocks next to every stream in the mountains, I just hired a front end loader and a few dump trucks. Then I got a few permits from the Department of the Interior to haul off all that rock and Bob's your Uncle, instant money! My rocks are the centerpiece of gardens all over Denver and the streams looked magnificent when I was done." His grin grew broader when he said, "I sold the company for enough to retire on extremely comfortably when I was thirty three."

"What about the airport? Asked Honey as the hot water soothed her spirit. "What's with the job out there?"

"Last year the home office called and offered me a position and I was bored so I accepted it. Simple as that. Nothing secret about it."

"What do you do out there?"

"There are assets out there owned by a Brit, and I manage them."

"Like what? No wait, I know. The fish and chips place in concourse C, right?"

Arnold smiled, saying yes may end her questioning, but it would be a lie. "No, it's nothing that the public sees."

"You manage the kings bomb shelter."

"What?" chuckled Arnold. "I didn't take you as one who believed in conspiracy theories."

"It's either King Charles or Reptilians," said Honey, shrugging.

"I can guarantee, there's no reptilians below the airport." He dimmed the café lights and the underwater lights and soon, only the fire was providing light on the deck. He took her in his arms and gave her one of those kisses that started her clit tingling, and she began panting for air. "I know that we only have known each other for six months, but do you think that we could do this more permanently?"

"Are you proposing?" Honey nearly gasped.

"No but I don't like asking a question that important without knowing the answer first," he said, then he leaned over and took her nipple between his teeth and clinched it tightly while his tongue flickered over it, driving her out of her mind.

Summoning all of her willpower she pulled Arnold away from her breast and said, "Yes, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, and if this is some silly but elaborate April Fools prank, I'll do it right now."

"Seriously?"

"A sense of humor is very important to me. When my dad died in Iraq, my grandpa's sense of humor was the only thing that kept me and my mom going, and that is a quality I look for in a man."

"If I knew that I would have rented a bigger cabin," said Arnold with a smile.

"Hey, that was a joke!" grinned Honey. "So this whole thing isn't some elaborate April Fools prank?"

"No, I'm sorry but I don't do April Fools," said Arnold as he led the naked beauty back into the "cabin" and dried her off before the big fire.

"Maybe I can convince you," she said as she slowly sank to her knees and licked the length of his cock. So big, so thick, and she knew what every pussy pleasing inch of it can do to her. She knew she would soon be reduced to a quivering pile of mush, trying to recover from a glorious fucking, but right now she wanted to please him.

Her tongue and her lips danced up and down the length of his cock. He groaned and rested his hands on her shoulders as she teased and taunted Arnold until he could take no more. He grasped a bunch of her hair and pulled her back from his cock, then pointed the head of his erect cock at her mouth. She looked up at him, smiling down at her in the firelight and grinned, then opened wide for her treat. Soon he was sliding his cock in and out of her mouth while her tongue laved the sensitive underside, causing him to groan with the pleasure she was causing in him.

He stroked deeper and deeper into her mouth, fucking her mouth and throat. At some point, she gagged a little, and he pulled back, but she wanted to show him she had skills she hadn't exhibited yet. She grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled his hips forward, forcing his cock down her throat. Deeper and deeper she pulled him until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Oh my God," he groaned, and started fucking her mouth and throat. She was touched by how gently he was treating her, but she wanted him to know that he wasn't hurting her. Honey grabbed his hips and started pulling his cock into her mouth faster and faster. At the same time, a fingertip of hers penetrated Arnold's asshole and began exploring.

He almost came, but he wanted to save it. He pulled back and Honey moaned in disappointment. "I almost had you," she groaned.

"I want to save that for later," said Arnold as he knelt down and drew her to him for a kiss. As they kissed, they slowly lowered to the floor in front of the fireplace. A faux mountain lion skin rug cushioned them as their lips met over and over. "Now it's your turn," whispered Arnold as he kissed his way down her milky white shoulders, down lower, searching for sensitive spots before kissing and nipping at her breasts.

Honey ran her fingers through his perfect locks of hair for the first time, and he didn't make a squawk. Most guys with hair that nice freak out when you touch it, Arnold didn't mind. He reached her nipple and began to lick and kiss her sensitive nubbin. He was very gentle with his mouth, but slowly he became more aggressive, more demanding with his fingers. As he suckled and nibbled her right nipple, he pinched her left nipple hard.

"Mmmm, where are you going," asked Honey as Arnold kissed his way down her torso.

"To heaven," was his only answer. Her tummy was still firm even though it had been years since she spent some time in the dojo.

"Oh God!" she groaned as his lips reached her pussy. "What are you doing to me?" she gasped as two fingers eased into her slit.

"I'm loving you," whispered Arnold as his mouth closed over her clit and he began suckling. His tongue flickered over her clit, driving her out of her mind. As he licked and sucked at her clit, his fingers pinched, pulled and twisted her nipples and finger banged her puss until she gasped and cried out. Her fingers wove through his hair, holding his mouth in place as his tongue drove her out of her mind.

"In me," she gasped. "I want you in me." He added a third finger to her moist pussy and waggled an eyebrow at her. "You know what I mean," she said, then groaned, "Oh God!" as he began running his fingers in and out of her sweet twat faster.

"Cum for me baby," he whispered.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she cried as her orgasm crashed over her. She didn't know how or when it happened, but he was in her. His marvelous cock was stretching her out and pushing her to new heights of pleasure. She held on for dear life as he fucked her senseless, his cock pounding her over and over and suddenly they both tensed up as their orgasms washed over them.

As they caught their breath, Arnold rose and carried Honey to the bedroom, where they slipped into a blissful sleep in each other's arms.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

She woke to find herself at the edge of an orgasm. Arnold was gently massaging her pussy while he suckled her breasts. Seeing that she was awake, he climbed between her legs, and they made love as the sun came up over the mountains. "My god, you are spoiling me for other men," she gasped as they caught their breath from a morning of lovemaking.

"I'm hoping there are no other men," said Arnold as he served her a hot cup of coffee.

"We need to work on that sense of humor, and you may get a yes out of me," said Honey as they kissed.

"I have a sense of humor," said Arnold. "I've got a hell of a sense of humor. I just don't do April Fools."

"A hell of a sense of humor?" asked Honey.

"I can sing the entire philosopher's song," said Arnold proudly.

"The what?"

Arnold began singing:

"Immanuel Kant was a real pissant who was very rarely stable

Heidegger, Heidegger, was a boozy beggar who could think you under the table

David Hume could out-consume Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel

And Wittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as schloshed as Schlegel..."

"Oh, that philosopher's song," laughed Honey.

"There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya 'bout the raising of the wrist,

Socrates himself was permanently pissed..."

Laughing, she covered Arnold's mouth with her hand. "Ok, ok, ok. I get it. That's a great bit."

She removed her hand, and he said in a falsetto voice, "There's a penguin on the telly."

"Stop!" she covered his mouth again, laughing. "Ok, you have a sense of humor."

"Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of ellllderberries!"

"Stop!" she laughed, and the fight was on. They were wrestling around on the bed until he had her pinned by the wrists. She looked into his eyes and softly said, "Ni."

"I think I'm going to keep you," he said with a sigh. "I have never loved another person so dearly."

Honey's heart swelled. She's never loved a man more completely. Usually, after a week of her sense of humor, she was dumped, and the guy went looking for someone boring that wouldn't leave chattering teeth on his nightstand.

"Let's have breakfast then do a little skiing."

"I didn't bring my snowboard," she said as she pulled on a diaphanous dressing gown she found in the closet. "Whose gown is this?"

"That's for guests," Arnold said as he busied himself at the stove. "You're the first person to ever wear it," he added quickly. She was beautiful in that gown, and he had a hard time keeping his mind on cooking and not her breasts. Backlit by the morning sunlight streaming in from the glass doors, her firm breasts were a study of beauty, and he was having problems making eye contact. He placed a cheese and veggie omelet in front of her, then sat next to her and had two poached eggs on toast.

"Where are you from?" she finally asked.

"London."

"Cool! Did you ever get to see the queen?"

"Not when I lived in London, the queen would never come to my neighborhood. I doubt that she knew it existed." To answer her unasked question, he said, "I was born in Bethnal Green, not an upscale location by any measure. By the time I was five my parents had moved to Toronto where my dad got into the banking industry. Being partially British owned, his bank wanted a Brit or two on staff and dad was actually a banking genius. He moved up through the ranks quickly and his bank moved him to Manhattan when I was eleven. I have a dual citizenship."

"Between the US and Canada?"

"US and England," he said. "I served a term in the RAF, then returned to New York which had gotten quite stuffy, so I took my savings to Colorado and became a ski bum. I saw a few investment opportunities and cleaned up a few creeks and Bob's your Uncle, this house is mine."

"Self-made man," said Honey. "I like it."

"Well, there is a matter of a trust fund, but I never touched it. It's still collecting interest. But I always saw it as a safety net, so I made some outrageous investments knowing that the trust fund was there to catch me if I failed. And I did fail a few times but other times it paid off handsomely."

Honey was amazed. "How come you're just telling this to me now? I've asked you before about your past but you deflected the questions back to me."

"I wanted more than anything to learn about you, and it was worth it. Now I know why you cried all day long on Veterans day. We call it Remembrance day, similar to your memorial day."

"Thank you for the poppies, and by the way you're deflecting again."

"I hadn't noticed."

He showed her the ski togs in her size that waited in the main closet. Soon he had her dressed in ski pants, sweater, and jacket and he led her downstairs to the house's lower level into a wide open room. Weights and other body building equipment were in one corner and the walls were lined with cushions and the floor was covered with 'puzzle mat.' "This is a dojo!" Honey gasped.

"Dojang really. I let them hold Taekwondo classes in here on Wednesdays."

"Are you..." Honey let the question hang.

"Red belt with black tip... it's kind of like a brown belt."

"Hiyaa!" Honey sprang to a fighting stance. They playfully sparred for a short time. When they were done catching their breath, Arnold led her to a side room where there were several pairs of skis and several snowboards.

"Grab whichever one you want, they've all been waxed and are in good shape." Honey selected a snow board that had a simple black and white design. Arnold picked one with bright colors. "I'm still new at snowboarding, you'll be able to find me in the snowdrift by the bright colors." They stepped from the dojo to the garage and they climbed into his old Jeep Renegade, the vehicle she's used to seeing him driving.

"There's an open space in the garage, what are you going to put there?" she asked as he backed out of the basement garage.

"Your car."

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Snowboarding was incredible. They started with the Frontier run on Peak 9 as a warm-up. Frontier was a hidden gem and most beginners don't know it's there, but it's a smooth, shallow run. It's perfect for beginners and for folks who haven't ridden in ages and need a warm-up. Arnold fell about five times, but Honey was incredible. She almost looked like a hula dancer the way she worked the board from side to side with her hips.

Toward the bottom, she sped ahead, leaving Arnold far behind. He fell twice, trying to catch up with her, and he eventually found her at the base of the run by the ski lift, surrounded by several young men with skis and boards. "There you are!" he gasped as he slid to a stop by Honey and kicked off his board.

"Hey Arnie!" cried one of the young men who fist bumped with Arnold. "What gives? You give up on skiing?"

"Hey Nitro, how ya doing? Honey likes to snow board so she's giving me lessons."

"You got a girlfriend? Did ya give up on guys?" one of the other skiers asked.

Honey wasn't sure if that was a nasty comment or not, but Arnold just said, "I like what I like. Is there a problem?"

"Hell no, I'm actually more shocked to see you on a snow board." There was more fist bumping, and the guys started teasing Arnold about his brightly colored board.

"See ya on Peak 7!" Nitro and his buddies headed over to the lift and got in line.

"I don't think you're ready for Peak 7 yet," said Honey as they headed back to the lift for Peak 9. Honey normally did most of her riding at Keystone, but she's familiar with the peaks at Breckenridge.

"Not on a snowboard, I need some more practice."

"You know those guys?"

"Yeah, friendly lads. Nitro is in a Taekwondo class at my house and we occasionally ski together. I taught Hooligan how to ski."

The second time down Frontier Arnold was much better, and they rode their snowboards until the lifts closed, not even breaking for lunch. They caught the last lift to the top of Peak 7 and rode that hill in the gathering gloom. It was rated for expert and Honey rode it like a champion. Arnold rode it like a wuss, avoiding the moguls, stopping when he got going over 20 MPH, but he rode it with only one fall and Honey was incredibly proud that he tried. They veered on to a run called the Four O'clock, the longest run on the mountain and it carried them all the way to the parking area.

Soon they were sitting naked in front of his fireplace, glowing from the steam bath and eating takeout Chinese that they picked up on the way home. As the gentle jazz music played in the background, they sipped their wine and made plans for tomorrow's skiing. "You sure you want to do that?" asked Arnold.

"I can ski, it's just that snow boarding is so much easier," insisted Honey.

"I just want to make sure that you're comfortable," said Arnold. "Why don't you ride your board and... whoa!"

"Here, you get comfortable," said Honey and she pushed him back and crawled over him. "I've been aching to do this all week." She kissed her way from his lips to his nipples and she sucked and nipped at his sensitive spots, then continued kissing her way lower and lower. When she reached his cock, she gave it some broad licks with the flat of her tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock, then she began to mouth and suckle on his balls while her hand stroked up and down his length.

"Oh jeezus girl!"

"You like?"

"You're going to make me cum like that."

"I know." Honey smiled and dribbled saliva on his cock, which allowed her hand to slide up and down smoothly and quickly. "What's the matter, are you afraid to cum in my mouth?"

"No, I..." Actually, he was. He was terrified that she would make a face and leave.

"Shut up and cum," she said with a wink, and she lowered her mouth onto his cock. Her lips and tongue were quickly driving Arnold out of his mind, and she couldn't wait for her reward. Deeper and deeper she took him, one hand gently caressing his balls and the other stroking his cock as she sucked and slobbered on his pole. He groaned and arched his back, driving his iron hard cock into her mouth. She felt his balls clench up. It was going to be soon.

"Cumming!" came his strangled cry and Honey got her reward. Spurt after spurt filled her mouth, and she swallowed hard to keep up with the flow. He continued to fill her mouth, and he collapsed on the lion skin rug. Soon he groaned, "too much," as the sensations she was creating became unbearable. Her hands stopped and her suckling on his cock became gentle.

Now came the real test, as far as Honey was concerned. She crawled over him and smiled down at him. "You like? Was it everything you want?"

His arm curled up, and he pulled her to him for a long, passionate kiss. Her lips were hot and swollen and he kissed her with all the passion he held. As for Honey, she's run into far too many guys who loved to cum in her mouth, but refused to kiss her after. "You don't mind kissing me after you came in my mouth?"

"Why? Should I? I can if you want, but I love kissing you after a blowjob. What are you smiling about."

"You're almost perfect! If we can just get you past this April Fool's Day phobia of yours."

"It's not a phobia, I just don't do April Fool's day." He smiled up at her and said, "come here Honey," and he began tugging her hips pulling her pussy closer.

She caught on quickly and knelt over Arnold's face. Knowing how much he loves to go down on her, she nestled her pussy on his mouth and said, "You need a mustache."

"Why?" he asked between licks.

"So I have something to ride... ooooo, that's very good," she added dreamily. Arnold began making love to her with his lips and tongue and, as she found a comfortable position, he reached up and began pinching and twisting her nipples. The fire crackled and snapped as the lovers gently caressed each other, Arnolds hands gently explored Honey's exquisite body, and Honey held his head to his task.

"Baby," she sighed, "don't stop... don't ever stop."

He got to her quickly. The sexual tension built up fast as she perched her pussy on his mouth, and he ate her to a mind warping peak. Whimpering in excitement, she fell forward onto her hands, and he clutched her sweet round buns. His lips and tongue continued to drive her insane. "I'm cumming baby, I'm cumming!" she screamed. Enormous waves of relief crashed over her, and she squealed with delight. She pushed her pussy into his face, trapping him as ecstasy took over her body and caused her to shake and quiver. Then everything went dark, and she slumped to the floor.

She woke up about five minutes later, completely befuddled. She was using Arnold's shoulder as a pillow, and he was running his fingers through her hair. He had pulled an afghan over them, and they snuggled together; the fire keeping them warm. "That was amazing," she gasped.

"As long as I have a smile on my face, you'll always have a place to sit."

"You're so silly," said Honey. "But seriously, that was..." just then Arnold's phone started blaring. It was the sound of the president's phone from the old In Like Flynn movies, a sound guaranteed to wake you up.

"I have to take this," said Arnold. "It's work." He held the phone to his ear and said "Morse." He listened to something, then said "Stormchester" then he waited a few moments more, glanced at his smartwatch, then said, "Seven, seven, five, eight, four." He rolled his eyes, obviously tired of the security hoops he was forced to jump through, then finally said, "What's up sir?... uh huh... yeah, that's next Tuesday... what? ... Who did that? Aww shit." He looked at his watch and said, "Yeah, I can be there. Let me get my pants on, I'll call you when I get out of the tunnel."

"Gotta work?"

"Yeah. The ambassador moved a big meeting up to very, very early tomorrow morning." He looked at his watch, "like in eight hours. So, I have to get going and I don't know when I'll be free. Let's get your stuff together and I'll drop you off at home, unless you want to spend the night and drive my jeep home and I will make it up to you on Monday."

Honey understood, she worked for a company that had no problem screwing up a person's personal life with useless meetings and upgrades to systems that didn't need upgrades. "I'll get dressed and ride down with you."

"I'm so sorry honey," he said, and he closed the glass door over the fireplace, gathered up the leftover Chinese, and said, "I need to take a real quick shower."

"I'll help," she said, and Honey really was a help. He was in the shower, lathered, rinsed and dried off in three minutes. The hardest part was being naked with Honey and not having the time to enjoy the situation. In the bedroom, she pulled on her emerald dress and Arnold selected a charcoal gray suit with a vest. As he buttoned himself up, Honey brushed his hair into perfect alignment, and they pulled on their overcoats and headed down to the basement garage.

"Leaving your makeup kit behind?" asked Arnold.

"Yes, and my snowboard boots. That way when the realtor tells me to come get my stuff I know that you really rented this place as an April Fools prank."

"I don't do April Fools."

"I heard that rumor."

They made their way down the snow covered gravel road and finally out onto the highway. Arnold pointed the Maserati north and opened it up. He was doing over 150 as they sped toward Frisco. To take her mind off the telephone poles flashing past them like a picket fence, she opened up a carton of leftover Chinese and grabbed a pair of chopsticks. "That's my lo mein," said Arnold.

"I don't care, I don't want to die on an empty stomach," said Honey as she took another mouth full of noodles. "This isn't bad, I thought you didn't trust their shrimp."

"I like to live dangerously." Arnold took his foot off the gas and let it coast through Frisco, the tuned exhaust rumbling as they neared the I-70 on-ramp. He pulled over and eased into a gas station first and got out to gas it up before making the dash down to the Airport. It was the first time he ever put fuel in the Maserati, and it took him a while to figure out where the gas cap was and how to open it. Even Honey had to help find it. Finally, he could top off the tank to a full 16 gallons. Getting back in the car, he hit the start button and on the center display, the Maserati disclaimer came up and he had to agree to their dire warning of roadway death.

Finally running, he selected the Sport mode and aimed for I-70. The Maserati has very little in the way of computer assist, the Italian manufacturer doesn't want interference between the driver and the road, but he had it on the Wet Road setting which throttled back the Nettuno engine. Now he had all 621 horses of the Formula 1 inspired engine at his beck and call. They pulled onto I-70 and he pressed the gas to the floor and the MC20 Cielo shot out into traffic.

Traffic was heavy for being ten PM, and Arnold had to weave in and out of the traffic, and they climbed up the steep grade to the Eisenhower tunnel. "Oh damn," muttered Arnold.

"It's snowing," said Honey. The higher they got, the heavier the snow got, and as they neared the tunnel, traffic stopped.

"Crap," spat Arnold. "Cielo, find a traffic report."

"Searching..." said his car.

"You named your car Cielo?" asked Honey.

"She likes the name," said Arnold.

The radio sprang to life, and a far too cheerful announcer said, "Up on Loveland Pass traffic is being brought to a standstill after US six was closed because of a jack knifed tractor trailer on the eastern side of the pass. HAZMAT traffic is being routed through the Eisenhower tunnels, causing the closure of the tunnels to passenger traffic for twenty minutes every hour to allow HAZMAT traffic through. Next update in..."

"Bloody hell," muttered Arnold. "Cielo, call work."

"Dialing." Soon a clearly electronic voice said, "Concierge's office, please state your last name."

"Morse."

"Thank you, please say your password."

"Stormchester."

"Thank you, please enter your code."

Arnold glanced at his watch, then read the digits that appeared. "Three zero five five three eight."

"Thank you Director Morse. Please wait."

"Director?" asked Honey.

"Job title, it sounds more fun than it is. Concierge is the one word job description. If we had a gym I'd be handing out towels."

Finally, a British sounding voice came on, "Arnie, how are you doing?"

"Not good Nigel, traffic at the tunnel is slowed down and it's really snowing up here. I probably should have grabbed the jeep. How is the recall coming."

"We're doing good," said the other voice that Arnold called Nigel. "We have sixty percent of the folks in."

"Good. Listen, Nigel, when you hit seventy five percent go ahead and kick off checklist mmmm... Delta. Let's use that one. Don't wait for me, I'll be there eventually."

"Ok, thanks for the call. See you when you get here."

After the call was disconnected, Honey asked, "What was that all about?"

"I need you to understand that nothing you heard was classified but it was for official use only. I merely told my staff what to do until I get there."

"It's ok, I understand what you mean. I heard nothing."

"What's my password?" asked Arnold.

"Cielo."

"Wrong. Perfect."

They ended up waiting nearly two hours for the traffic to allow him to go. He was second in line to enter the tunnel when they closed it back down last time and he got to watch a long string of semi tractor trailers lumber through the tunnel ahead of him. Chances were good that they were going to catch up to those trucks on the steep downgrades ahead of them, and the trucks will block traffic at 35 mph.

Finally, he got to enter the tunnel. The snow scraping the low slung underbelly of the car almost woke Honey, but when they got into the tunnel, the road was wide open. He got around the SUV that was ahead of him in line and poured on the coal. Cielo roared to life, its exhaust bellow echoed off the tunnel walls which woke Honey. One point seven miles later, he shot out of the east tunnel portal at almost two hundred miles per hour and the weather was clear. Not a flake of snow in the air.

Now it was a matter of eating up the miles. He was right; the semis were hogging the road, but CDOT had put an express lane on the left for skiers with a few bucks left in their pocket and he was able to get past the trucks for the price of $14.67.

The smell of burning brakes let them know they were near Georgetown, where unexperienced truckers occasionally burn off their brakes and sometimes set their loads on fire. He was doing 100 mph as he flew past Idaho Springs and ducked into the twin tunnels.

Honey woke up in time to see the whole of Denver sprawling out ahead of them as they came down the mountain through Genesee Park. "How are you doing?"

"Honey, I don't have time to drop you off. I hate to do this but I'm going to escort you into my work and swear you to secrecy."

Honey perked up, "Cool! What do I have to do?" She was excited. She could see what Arnold did for a living! Before long, they were purring along Peña Boulevard and exited toward the FedEx UPS complex. Arnold parked at a covered parking spot simply marked as "Reserved" behind the FedEx building and turned to Honey. "Leave your purse in the car but bring just your driver's license. Nothing else."

"Ok," said Honey and she dug out her driver's license and held it tight. She's lost it twice in the past and it was a real pain in the ass to replace. She noticed he dug his license out of his wallet and stowed his wallet in her purse.

"Let's go." He led her into the FedEx building using a door that said, "Drivers Only" in faded letters and they stepped into a large warehouse. He led her up to an office near the door and a glass window slid back. "Hello James," he said to the incredibly large black man inside.

James smiled, "Hey Arnie. I thought you were skiing with the little lady this weekend." He handed Arnold a large clipboard.

"What is it that you Americans are so fond of saying? 'Shit happens?'" said Arnold as he signed the clipboard. "I need an escort badge for Miss Allen," and he reached out for her license, which he attached to the clipboard along with his own, and he handed the clipboard back to James.

James studied their licenses and said, "Miss Allen, could you stand in that box on the floor and try to look natural?"

"This box?"

"That's fine, smile for the birdie," said James. There was a bright flash and moments later Nancy was wearing a badge with her picture, name, and the title 'Under Escort,' and her escort's name was 'Director Morse.' "You will get your license back when you return your badge at the end of your visit," said James and he slid the window closed.

"Ready?" Arnold asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Don't be scared," said Arnold as a large golf cart pulled up and Arnold guided Honey to sit in the back seat and he sat down next to her.

"Good morning Mister Morse," said the driver, and he handed Arnold a stack of papers.

"Good morning Nigel, is everyone here?" Arnold looked through the papers. He pulled one out and handed it to Honey.

"Everyone but you," said Nigel as he wheeled the golf cart on to a freight elevator.

"Good. I hope too many plans weren't ruined."

"Looks like just yours." The elevator doors closed, and the elevator car dropped at an incredible rate. Honey felt weightless, like the time she went skydiving.

"We got caught at the tunnels when they closed the Loveland Pass bypass," said Arnold as he reviewed the papers in front of him.

"I hate waiting for HAZMAT." Everyone who goes west of the tunnels in the winter eventually gets caught waiting for HAZMAT trucks to use the tunnel.

Honey looked again at the paper that Arnold gave her and suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Everything that she thought of Denver International Airport was turned upside down. "Is this true?"

"Every bit of it."

"You told me it wasn't..." she sounded like she was going to get angry.

"No, I just said 'do you believe in conspiracy theories?' I never said they were wrong."

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "you're a bloody bahstahd."

"Sorry, it's part of the job." The elevator finished its long plunge, and they exited the elevator into a tunnel that disappeared into the distance. It was wide enough for a large truck to drive down the center and not get near the walls. They raced down the tunnel for a long time. Arnold said that it was about seven miles until they came up to a non-descript doorway. They stepped off the golf cart and entered the door and stepped into a well lit high end business building. "This is building number ten."

"The building that was built wrong so they buried it, right?"

"Well yes, it was built wrong, we requested fifty thousand square feet, they gave us forty five thousand. But that's not why it was buried. This building is owned by CANAUKUS and managed by my employers, the royal family."

Honey now realized that building ten was buried because it was supposed to be buried. CANAUKUS is a conglomeration of Canada, Australia, UK, and the US. "What do they do here?"

"Nothing scary. That's the UN's job. CANAUKUS is mostly technology driven," said Arnold. "Their engineers meet at other locations, here the big wigs meet and mostly try to decide what they're going to eat at the next meeting." He led her down a business office like hallway that opened up to an area that looked like the lobby of an incredibly upscale hotel. "This is my office. Our guests shall arrive soon and we're here to greet them and guide them to the conference room."

After meeting with his staff and making sure that everything was set up, he took Honey by the hand and they waited for the elevator door in the lobby to open. "Above us at the end of runway 27 North, there is a parking ramp and next to the ramp is a very boring looking building. If a plane parks on that ramp it can't be seen from the terminal or from the highway. The building they park near has a security office and an elevator."

She knew from her conspiracy theory studies that Runway 27 North is an unused runway. Many theories say that it was built too weakly and can't handle large aircraft. Other theories say that the winds off of Green Mountain make it unusable. "Who is coming?" asked Honey, who was almost too scared to ask.

"My boss is usually first."

Soon the door slid open and Honey recognized the man who stepped off the elevator. "Your majesty," said Arnold as he bowed.

"Mister Morse, it's good to see you again," said the King of England. "Thank you and your staff so terribly much for pulling this together at the last minute." Then the King of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith, turned to Honey and smiled and took her hand. "This must be Miss Allen. I've heard so much about you, welcome to my get away shelter, and I hope you choose to join us."

"S-s-sir..." Honey sputtered as the king of England shook her hand. Arnold assigned an escort to lead the king and his people to the conference room.

"Arnie!" called a familiar voice the next time the elevator door opened.

"Mister President," said Arnold, and they shook hands.

"This must be Nancy! We've heard so much about you," said the president as he shook Honey's hand. "Oh yes, I get it now, Honey West. That was a great, great show."

Honey touched her mole. "That's how I got this nickname. My grandfather was a fan of Honey West."

"A wise man," said the president. "Ann Francis was a beautiful, beautiful woman. You should be proud to be compared to her. Proud!" and he was led off by another guide.

It was like that all morning for Honey, the prime ministers of Australia, Canada, and the UK arrived, followed by the US Speaker of the House. One of the last dignitaries to arrive was an odd-looking fellow. His skin had a grayish tone, and his eyes were huge, his ears were tiny, he had no nose and his short dark blue hair moved. "Honey, this is Ambassador G'Nkqp."

"Miss Allen," said the odd little man, and he took her hand in his long-fingered hand. She was shocked to see that he has three fingers and two opposable thumbs on each hand. His body temperature was far cooler than a human's temperature.

"A-a-ambassador," said Honey, consciously not saying his name. There's no way she could pronounce it.

"If it makes you comfortable, please call me Nip," said G'Nkqp. "I realize our phonetics are alien to you."

"Ambassador, please," said Arnold. "It's her first day."

"It's said I can be a bit of a dick," said G'Nkqp with a large eyed wink, and he headed back to the briefing room with his escort.

"He's a gray," she whispered.

"They call themselves K'rgts," said Arnold. "They're nice but they have this thing about anal probes."

"I'd rather do that with you," said Honey. When she saw the amused look on Arnold's face, she said, "Did I say that out loud?"

When the last guest had arrived Arnold said, "And that's the fun part, now I go to work. This is what I do mostly." He led Honey into the big, sumptuous dining room and made sure that the seating arrangement did not put Ambassador G'Nkqp next to anyone from Australia again. He told Honey that alcohol affects K'rgts differently than people. The Aussies found Ambassador G'Nkqp's reaction to it far too amusing, so it's best they stay separated in the dining room.

So and so is a vegan, so he should sit with other vegans, so and so needs to chat with what's his name so they get put together but so and so is keeping kosher and what's his name gave up beef for lent. It was very confusing, but Arnold had a working seating arrangement completed and published to the escorts so they knew where to sit their charges. Then it was back in the kitchen. They were serving two meals today and there would be two snack services, a morning coffee and an afternoon tea.

With the kitchen squared away, Arnold ended up back at the 'front desk' in the lobby, typing his arrival reports and cursing G'Nkqp for demanding that they moved the meeting up to today. Poor Honey was in shock. She shook hands with The King! And he knew about her! She met the president! And he called grandpa a wise man! Then she met an alien, and this was all in a hidden building buried under the Denver Airport. She didn't know whether to jump in joy or scream in terror.

Arnold turned to Honey and said, "What do you think babe?"

"This is insane!" she gasped. "And it's all true!"

"True-ish," said Arnold. "Ignore the blue horse from hell and the strange murals and gargoyles. Every one of them is there to distract you from what we're doing down here."

"Can I listen to their discussions?"

"You can, it's usually pretty boring unless Mr. President is talking. He always wanted to be a comedian, and he's pretty good at it."

"You said you had a job offer?" asked Honey, who was slowly coming to terms with this strange, strange situation.

"Come here," and he guided her down the hall to a door with a security lock. He swiped his badge and led her inside. It was a huge server room. Dozens of racks were filled with servers, dozens more with network equipment, switches, routers, firewalls, VPNs. "Can you manage this? I know it's a pain, there's top security VPN tunnels all over the world. You'll have an assistant but he's kind of daffy."

"You?" she said.

"When I'm not out there running the show I'd be in here cutting and splicing."

"What's the pay like?" asked Honey.

"What do you have the guts to ask?"

"Three fifty," she said. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars was almost three hundred thousand dollars more than Adelphia was paying her.

"I can afford three hundred, I'd have to ask Charles to go higher, but he would expect miracles by the bushel."

Honey pulled out a drawer and a monitor unfolded and revealed a keyboard. Arnold signed into the system for her, and Honey ran a few network queries. She was a computer network genius, overworked and underpaid by a company that was famous for hiring and overworking people for the sheer joy of laying them off. From what she saw, this would be a challenge, but she could manage it. It's what she majored on in college and the network looks like something that she designed. But does she want to work for someone who hates April Fool's Day? She cleared her throat and said, "Three hundred? can I think about it?"

"Of course."

And so the day continued. Arnold ran himself ragged and Honey wore herself out, trying to keep up with him, but the king himself thanked Arnold and her for a successful last moment gathering. "Will you be joining us Miss Allen?" the king asked.

"I'm considering it, your majesty."

"Well it is difficult to work with your spouse," said the king with a smile.

"I'm considering that too, your majesty."

The king shook his royal head sadly and patted Arnold on the shoulder. "Good luck."

It was late when the last attendee left and Arnold stayed to make sure the clean-up was complete. Then he led an exhausted Honey Allen home. "I'm so sorry I dragged you in to that baby, but when the home office wants us, they get us. "

"You love your job, don't you," she said as she placed the white foam container on her kitchen table.

"It's crazy, but I love it."

Honey opened the container and took a deep sniff of the contents. Tiramisu! It was from the banquet dessert table, and it was the best tiramisu she ever had. She closed it up and put it in the refrigerator. When you're too tired for tiramisu, you're too tired.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

She didn't remember going to bed, but she woke up and Arnold was snoozing next to her. "I have to go to work sweetie."

"I'll help you shower, and while you're getting dressed I'll put together breakfast." Just then, her alarm went off. He reached over to turn it off and accidentally set off her set of chattering teeth, which caused Honey to laugh and give Arnold a hug.

"Ok, let's go" she said, and they got in her shower. It wasn't huge, but it was comfortable and her wet body against his felt so good.

Arnold tried to open his shampoo, but he couldn't get it open. "What is wrong with this bottle?" he muttered.

"Here, wash my back," she said, and she handed him a bar of soap.

He rubbed and rubbed and rubbed his bar of soap under the stream of the shower, but he couldn't get a single bubble out of it. "I think your soap is broken, it doesn't work"

"Seriously?" then she turned around and said, "April Fools!" Arnold couldn't be mad. That smile was so delightful, she just made his morning.

"Fine, wash yourself. I'll go get breakfast started."

When Honey stepped out of her room, Arnold had French toast, bacon, and a mocha latte ready for her. A'Tuin was happily chowing down on his breakfast on the table, too. Her wind-up chattering teeth were under the bottle of syrup, so when she lifted it they started chattering at her. "Oh, it's so cute! Your first April Fools prank!"

"I'm trying," he said. "No work for me today. Last night I gave everyone today off and the place is locked up. When you're at work, please don't tell anyone about it. Don't forget your security oath."

"If I say anything will they come after me and shoot me down?"

Arnold was silent for a long time and said, "they're very protective about Ambassador G'Nkqp. I wouldn't take the chance."

"Ok, dear. Don't forget to lock up if you leave." They kissed, and she headed off to the data center. Arnold washed the breakfast dishes while A'Tuin watched and batted at the rinse water, then they sat down together and watched a re-run of Night Court. Arnold watched Harry Anderson prank his entire staff, and his quandary was resolved. He called a number and said, "This is Arnold Morse, we spoke last week about... yes, is it still available? I'll be over in about an hour."

Then he made another call. "Hey Brian, it's Arnold again. Can I get an escort into your data center?" and he told the CEO of his plans.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Inside the data center lobby, Arnold paced, and the security guard was getting nervous. A fellow who was dressed like he was ready to buy the place was pacing back and forth nervously. "Are you sure that an escort is on the way?" asked the guard.

"Yes sir. He should be here shortly."

"Who is it? We can give him a call."

"I'm not sure. I spoke with Brian Robertson a couple of hours ago and he said he would supply an escort."

He spoke to the CEO of Adelphia? The security guard not only did not believe him, he wanted this Brit out of his building now. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable waiting in your car?"

Arnold stepped up to the security desk and pointed at Cielo, who could be seen through the large glass doors. "See that car? That's a Maserati MC20 Cielo. It has over six hundred horsepower and can go from zero to sixty in three seconds. I went through the Eisenhower tunnel at two hundred miles per hour last night. That car cannot sit. It's impossible."

Just then, their view of Cielo was blocked as a Mercedes-Maybach S-Class pulled in. It was one of the most luxurious cars on earth and Brian Robertson stepped out and entered the data center. "Arnold, are you ready?"

"Thanks for coming," said Arnold. "This is perfect." He told Brian his plan, and the CEO laughed.

"I love it, do you know where she works?"

"Her desk is near the back elevator," said Arnold.

"That's quite a walk, let's go," and they left the security guard in shock. Brian described the different sections of the building as they walked. They passed several TV studios, these were the first HD TV studios in Colorado. They entered an old section of the building, still painted an industrial green, then came up to a section that was leased out to several ad firms and documentary filmmakers, to eventually the rear elevator. Brian rang for the elevator and inside he used his security badge to permit travel to the second floor.

"Here you are big guy, go get her," said Brian and the elevator door slid open.

Arnold saw Honey the moment the door opened. There were rows of desks and dozens of people were chatting or working hard, but when the CEO of the company stepped off the elevator, the room went silent. Honey got up and walked up to Arnold and said, "What are you doing here, I'm working."

"I asked Brian if I could talk to you for a couple of minutes, he said it was ok."

"How do you know Mister Robertson?"

"Usual, I taught him to ski, he taught me to scuba, together we kick the youngsters asses at pickle ball."

"What... what do you want to say? I have a meeting in five minutes."

Arnold looked nervous, and he cleared his throat and said, "I know how important your work is to you and this day is, but for all that, you are so much more important to me. I love you Honey. I don't know what to do without you. Together we can conquer anything, please..." he slowly sank to one knee. "I have so much but it's worthless to me without you. Please say you'll marry me and complete me." He held up a beautifully engraved wooden ring box, and she gasped.

With trembling hands, she took the box from him. It was engraved with "Nancy & Arnold, the journey begins..." inside of a valentine heart. She opened the box, and it was lined with black velvet. A tiny spotlight shone down on an enormous diamond. She gasped as she saw the size of the rock and suddenly a tiny stream of water sprayed and hit her in the face.

"Uh, April Fools?" said a terrified Arnold.

"YES!" shrieked Honey. "Finally!" she laughed and wept at the same time as Arnold stood. "YES YES YES! You finally got it!" And their lips met for a kiss they would remember for a lifetime.