To what, sweetheart, do I deserve the honour of being called a Strawberry Jelly?” asked Annabelle, adjusting her bra straps and looking archly at her Supervisor; “could it be because of these?” and she glanced down at her breasts, “it's ages since you showed them their due appreciation and respect,” and she laughingly spooned a generous portion of jelly into her mouth; “oh, darling,” sighed Traci, “I'd never show them such disrespect as to use a euphemism for them, since our Green Gown afternoon, do you remember, out by the source of The Water of Leith, when we had been to Rullion Green, I have only cherished them with love and devotion – you know I always make sure that my fingernails are well exungulated before touching them, lest I should scratch the snowy whiteness of your delicate skin,” and Annabelle snorted, almost choking as a sliver of jelly went down the wrong way and gasped as another landed on the sheer alabaster of one of them; “do you know how many times we have made love?” she asked, “since that first time, when you took my virginity,” and her long-time lover, supervisor and, now, sister-in-law gazed at her in amusement: “have you been keeping count?” asked Traci, surprised that she had not thought of doing so herself – but then she had also experienced a goodly number of other lovers, while she knew that Annabelle had always been faithful to her, she secretly now felt guilty, that she, herself, should have been more loyal, monogamous even, then Annabelle said: “the last time, why it brought us up to MCMXCIX,” and Traci could not conceal her amazement: “one thousand nine hundred and ninety nine times?” she stammered, “really? almost two thousand,” her eyes were wide in astonishment, “are you sure?” and Annabelle laughed, her breasts quivering just like the forgotten jelly, “this is the Revenue department,” and both laughed together, “we never lose count of what truly matter,” and they set aside their coffee cups and tumbled into each other's arms, whispering words of devotion co-mingled with the more raunchy words of love, lust and lechery; oh, and later, when they toasted their reaching the double chiliad, it was Traci who changed the subject, for she had an enquiry that she thought Annabelle might be able to help her with, “it's about this person I've been seeing a bit of,” she started to explain, in that tone Revenue Officers use when they are using the shield of confidentiality to avoid giving too much detail on the person they are discussing, and so she was slightly surprised when Annabelle said, “the guy you've been shagging, like a pair of lovestruck rabbits on Viagra?” and laughed – “it's hardly a secret that you lock the door every time he comes in to see you, and his business went down the plug-hole months ago, so you can't have any professional interest in his affairs now, can you?” and she winked that wink which tells you, and clearly told Traci, that she's been rumbled – she blushed crimson to her roots, and threw her hands in the air: “bang to rights,” was all she could say, then:” well, down to the nitty-gritty,” and Annabelle put a hand on her knee, “we've just been there, sweetie, but if you really want another round, I'm your girl and you're my Boss,” and it was all Traci could do to restrain herself and stick to the matter she wanted to raise: “well, he's got good cause to detest Martin Elginbrod, as, I know, do also a whole Legion of other clients of ours, but it's almost personal – not almost, it is; and he has a plan to get in to Elginbrod's house and I was wondering – you are quite close to the O'Hooligan girls, aren't you?” and Annabelle grinned and rolled her eyes, “I'm pretty close to Bunty and did you know that Dixie's back in town? just a few weeks, but I've also had a few encounters with Bernie, who's now shacked up with, wait for it, Tammy Shanter! do you remember that odd bird Tabby at uni? some kind of counter-espionage thing, according to Teri, well Tammy is her daughter, and she's working at The Scotsman, but that's not all, she's done an expose of the two mystery men involved in the Stone of Scone heist, I know it's before our time, but anyway, I'm told there's going to be a big naming, if not shaming, of the two who didn't get caught,” but Traci stopped her in mid flow with a deep kiss, which was really the only way of stopping Annabelle, once she had the bit between her teeth, and when they broke for air, Traci said, “hushabye, lover-girl, let me tell you what I want – Lionel, oh, forget I mentioned his name,” - “what name? “ - “if someone wanted to plant a bug, or a camera in a person's house, to transmit to another, can that be done?” - “well, now you mention it, I do hear from Bernie that The Sisters have a contact called – wait for it – The Economic Migrant – who can eavesdrop anywhere, anyone, anytime; have you had this office swept?” - “of course, the cleaners come in every night, oh, I see what you mean, no, who would be bothered with us,” then she remembered what they had been doing less than an hour ago and Traci blushed crimson all over again, and Annabelle said that she would have a word with Bunty, they were meeting that very evening, in Rose Street, “why don'tcha come along too, it's been ages since you saw them,” and Traci agreed, because she had always enjoyed Bunty and Dixie's company and if Bernie was there too, so much the better – she clapped her hands in anticipation and Annabelle gave her a last, lingering, tongue kiss, and swept out of the room with the empty mugs and jelly bowl, a beaming smile on her face too.