"You give me my crazy back."

She looks at me, doubting her English as Second Language, suspicious of my meaning, trying to figure out how this is an answer to "Why do you thank me when you help me?" but still smiling, watching me intently across the desk from under her short dark Mom cut. "I what?"

"Well, not completely."

That not being an answer, she gestures in what is obviously Korean hand-waving for "huh?"

"You remember asking me how I've survived being married for twenty-five years? This," I continue, pulling a picture from behind me on the shelf, "is my wife of twenty-five years, and this," pulling down the other picture, "was my girlfriend for eight of those twenty-five."

Pulling her head back, eyebrows raised, she looks askance, not sure that she had heard me correctly, and not sure she wants to.

"With her, I was completely crazy. When she left, I had no crazy. With you, I feel that same insanity. Which is what brings me to the question I said I was going to ask you: Do you drive me crazy on purpose or is that just a happy accident?"

She giggles and laughs, both at the same time. It is a strange effect. "What do you think?" she asks, leaning tall across the desk, her tongue stuck out just enough to make me want it in my mouth, and mine in hers.

"I think," I respond slowly, firmly, almost growling, "that it's a very happy accident that you are thrilled by, and use for all it's worth."

Biting her lip, looking down and demure, her eyes never leaving mine, sexy as hell, she nods.

"I think," I go on, in the same measured tone, soft enough that my voice will not carry outside my office, "that when you sent me your 'I should be thanking you email' with the giant winking smiley, that you were suggesting wanting to suck my cock. I think that email, like your giggling, and your tongue sticking out, and that wiggle you give your ass when you walk out my door are all challenges to me to make you come."

She nods again, and now, for real and completely, I've got my crazy back.