was terrifying. “Is it ticking?” “No. It doesn’t tick, rattle or jingle.” Tan answered my next questions before I could ask them. “Is it very big?” “Not very big, but it is heavy.” “Book heavy?” Mom liked to be supportive of my lifestyle. That was what she called it anyway. Her idea of support was based on books that she was happy to share with me, now that I had Tan to try the suggestions on. Or maybe it was Tan she was sharing them with. I really tried not to think about it. “Possibly. The weight isn’t even. There might be a book or two in the bottom, but there could be something else on top.” Tan sounded as apprehensive as I felt. “Something else?” My mind boggled, absolutely refusing to go there. The books were bad enough. Knowing that Mom had read them, and made Dad look at the pictures, before she sent them was enough to make a saint twitchy. But if she was sending something else with the gay sex manuals… “Yes.” “You’d better open it.” I did not want to go home to face a scary pink parcel from my Mom. Tan was already there. “Me?” “It’s got your name on it, hasn’t it?” Hah! He wasn’t going to get out of it that easily. Mom had put his name on there and so he could suffer the consequences. “It’s got yours on it, too.” Tan sounded like he was whining. “Open it.” He deserved the trauma. He had encouraged her and taken her advice. “Do I have to?” Definitely whining. “Do you really want to spend the next…” I checked the clock and did some swift calculations before finishing the sentence, “five hours sitting there looking at it?” “I could go out.” That had to have a pout with it. “Open the parcel!” His whining and pouting had only strengthened my resolve. That parcel had to be really, really scary to reduce Tan to this level. “I did tell you where I keep my will, didn’t I?” Tan’s voice quavered slightly. “Just get on with it.” “Getting on with it.” I could hear tape peeling and paper tearing and other assorted unidentifiable noises that I took to be Tan opening the package. There was a snicker and a groan and then silence. “Okay. How bad is it?” I forced myself to ask. If it had Tan speechless it was probably bad. “Er… two books with several pages marked.” “Illustrated books?” I was trying not to think about Mom choosing positions for us to try. “Photographically illustrated books.” “Oh, fuck.” It was even worse when I knew she had a clear visual image of what she expected us to try. “Mm. Plenty of that.” Tan snickered nervously. “Was there anything else?” I forced myself to ask after a short silence. “Yes. There are two individually wrapped gifts. One for each of us.” “Oh, fuck. Do they look the same?” Valentine gifts from my Mom? Did I dare hope she had sent candy? Mom? Fuck, this was going to be bad. “No. I think they are different. Mine’s smaller than yours.” Tan sounded almost disappointed about that. “Be thankful! Smaller is probably less embarrassing.” I told him sternly. Please let it be candy! Please! Even penis shaped candy would be okay… “I’m not opening it until you are here! No way!” “Coward!” I sniffed, but privately I agreed with the decision. I didn’t want to open the Valentine gift even with Tan there. “Oh, fuck.” “What?” My heart was hammering in my chest at the horror in Tan’s voice. “I just found some batteries in the box.” Tan announced in a voice of doom. “Batteries?” Not going to think about it. Not going to think about it. “Yeah. The sort you put in clocks or torches or…” Tan’s voice trailed off, not even he could complete that horrible possibility. “She wouldn’t…” I started to say and then remembered who I was talking about. She would. I had the awful certainty that she would. Battery operated candy machines? I deserved some luck, didn’t I? Or at least some