"Hi Uncle Mac, whatcha doing, cleaning your 'gun'," she said with a smile, emphasizing the word "gun". She walked over to the bed."It's a weapon, not ... gun," Mac said remembering a time in basic training when he had referred to his weapon as a gun. The drill sergeant made him stand on the barracks steps and hold his crotch in one hand and the rifle in the other. He had to repeat over and over, "This is my weapon and this is my gun. This is for fighting and this is for fun." It was a lesson he. “Joe,” she scolded me, “you have no need to charm her. She’s already interested. As are her daughters.”The cobbler looked shocked. “Isn’t Caitlin enough for Nick?”“She is, my friend,” Helena grinned. “And for Joe.”“Sorry,” I said. “I forget this weird attraction sometimes. But I said the truth. No blarney. Honest. I’d like it if we could be friends. Just friends. I admire your husband. And I admire his choice in mate.”“I don’t know if it was my choice. I mean it was, but she had to want to be. More

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