Champagne. Orange juice. Breakfast in bed and kisses that tickled, ordinary happiness with a woman who was his best friend, and why was he chasing a dead man around again?

Jack shook his head to clear it. Emma still had school, and Sebastien -- well, Sebastien had Jack's absolute devotion, and always would. Doggedly, tiny key by tiny key, he typed:

Either to spite you or make you laugh, Miss Frost. Perhaps both at once.

Haikus had become a dangerous game.