“Forget it, pal. Neither the time nor the place. Excuse me,” she added, bumping into a silver, headless mannequin. “Oh, gross! I hate when I think they’re people.”

“That’s some empathy you’ve got at work there,” he commented.

“Off my case, Dr. Furball. What, you never ever made a mistake?”

He thought hard. “Nothing springs to mind.”

She let out a yelp of anger, and he could tell she was sorry she had nothing in her arms to toss at him any longer. “Dude, I hate to point this out, but you can’t see. You must have screwed up something. Clashing tie, maybe?”

He tossed her a blouse the color of her eyes and said in a low voice, although the saleswoman was across the store, “Homo saps are more handicapped than I, dear.”

“Oh, sure, the one-eyed man in the country of the blind and all that.”

“Essentially.”

“We’re not that bad.”

He shrugged. “I can smell an iron deficiency. I can hear a heart murmur without a stethoscope.”

“Well, I can tell this blouse doesn’t go with those pants, so put it right back on the rack, pal. God, aren’t you bored? These are all for me, and I’m just about bored out of my tits.”

He grinned. “Thanks for the visual. I’ll make a note to catalog order for you from now on.”

“Well, thank you. Not that you need to keep buying me clothes.”

Want to bet?

“I suppose taking you to Anne Klein to look at dresses would be a complete waste of time?”

“Barf out! Jeez, look how late it’s getting! The sun’s actually gone down. God, how long have we been doing this?”

“Since supper. Stop complaining. We’re almost done.”

“Well, I’d like to see you make me,” she said pertly.

“Done and done. If you’re quite—” He paused suddenly. Was that a whiff of pack? Sure it was. Hmm, two in one week. It wasn’t often he ran into one a year. That was interesting. Now what to do about it?

“Dick, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t stop bitching I’m going to pull out your eyeballs and shove them down your pants.” The voice was strident, loud, and female.

“That could be fun,” a low-pitched male voice he didn’t recognize said cheerfully. “And who’s bitching? I just got up. What are we doing here? I didn’t know you liked the Gap, m’dear.”

“I fucking well hate it, and you damned know it. But they’re having a sale, and I can stock up. I fucking hate shopping!”

“A woman after my own heart,” Crescent muttered, holding up a sleeveless sweater the color of mucous.