You Know, Ms. Morgan, That

If He'd Looked Like A Cross Between Mr. Clooney And, Say, One Of The Hobbits, I Probably Would Have Been Far More Capable Of Coherent Thought.

Like So Many Aspiring Writers Who Still Have Boxes Of Things They've Written In Their Parents' Houses, I Filled Notebooks With Half-finished Poems And Stories And First Paragraphs Of Novels That Never Got Written.

She Didn't Protest As Hale Slid His Arm Around Her And Pulled Her To Rest Against His Chest. It Was Somehow Softer There Than She Remembered.

So Far Kat Has Been Through All The Wa's She Could Think Of, But Hale Hadn't Admitted To Being Walter Or Ward Or Washington. He'd Firmly Denied Both Warren And Waverly. Watson Had Prompted Him To Do A Very Bad Sherlock Holmes Impersonation Throughout A Good Portion Of A Train Ride To Edinburgh, Scotland. And Wayne Seemed So Wrong She Hadn't Even Tried. Hale Was Hale. And Not Knowing What The W's Stood For Had Become A Constant Reminder To Kat That, In Life, There Are Some Things That Can Be Given But Never Stolen. Of Course, That Didn't Stop Her From Trying.

But The Heaviest Things, I Think, Are The Secrets. They Can Drown You If You Let Them.