"I'm not hitting," Marcello objected. "You're tweaking. I have a right to defend myself. And there, that settles it. You need practice. I know you had Tristan, but small children aren't the same as babies."

"And babies you can give back are different yet than ones you've had yourself," she added. "And anyway, that was a play-tweak." With a sly smile, she darted a hand forward and tried to tweak Marcello's nipple instead.

"Well, it was a play swa-- ow!" Marcello sxclaimed, and swatted again. "I thought you didn't want me to make your eyes go black," she said accusingly. "Babies you can give back are still all right for practice," she said. "I want you to be an expert nappy-changer by the time we have one of our own."

Niabheara stuck out her tongue, scooted Marcello's head out of her lap, and then flopped on her stomach beside her. Which was when the footboard collapsed with a horrific clatter and the end of the mattress banged against the floor.

Marcello yelped as she involuntarily rolled down the newly-sloped bed. "What did you do?!" she demanded, laughing, as she picked herself up at the bottom. "Een the bed is angry at you!"

"I didn't do anything!" Niabheara managed to cling for half a second before she slid down the slope and ended up, on her feet, at the end of the bed. Furious, she kicked the fallen mattress. "Damn this miserable weary broken-down old--"

Then the heavy headboard collapsed, bringing a huge puff of dust out of the mattress when they both hit the ground. Niabheara squeaked, jumped back, and burst out laughing all at the same time.

Marcello, still on the mattress, collapsed with it, and let out a laugh again. "Well, at least now it's all level enough to sleep on it!" she exclaimed through a torrent of giggles. "At least--hahahahahaha! You're giving this to your brother!"

"He's going to be furious with me!" she said. "He's going to think I gave him this as a . . . a joke, or a commentary, or something." She dropped back down to sit on the now-flat mattress. "Oh, hush," she told Marcello. "We'll drag it downstairs beside the fire. It'll be warmer there, anyway."

Marcello giggled again, and kissed her. "You're just trying to avoid any situation where I could make your eyes black again, aren't you?" she teased, as she got up.

"At the moment? Yes." She touched Marcello's face, and let out a heartfelt sigh. "It's as if my life has branched into two extremes. Hide somewhere mourning that I'll ne'er give birth, or rip your clothes off."