Without thinking, Liz instantly but carefully grasps the shaft.

Ian gasps slightly, as she softly caresses it. They both say nothing, intensely looking into each other’s eyes.

They have both needed this for some time.

The sun sets as Ian eases inside her on the sofa, the rug, the table and finally the bed.

Liz tries to open her mouth at various points to say a ‘witty’ remark but each time Ian deftly either thrusts harder or pulls a new trick out of his extensive repertoire. For example, the one-leg-over-the-shoulder-two-fingers-and-tongue technique.

At times his tongue delicately skips around her nipples and clitoris with the grace of a figure skater. She cannot even.

After several orgasms she particularly enjoys taking charge of the situation, riding on top so hard that any annoyance she ever had towards him was forever fucked out of her system.

After 10 orgasms, Liz collapses in a heap.

Ian decides now is the time to speak, as he lights a cigar..

“So, apology accepted?”

Liz can barely speak, breathing heavily. A cigarette hangs out of her mouth.

“Apology… …

… … christ… …

…

… accepted.”

They fuck again. This time extremely hard, expelling all their demons. Their inner woes, their life’s errors and dreams all combining together as Liz screams her tits off.

After this they make love, extremely slowly. Lots of eye gazing. They know this will likely be their last time doing this, they accept this while also acknowledging how fantastic it is.

After the 12th orgasm, Liz dies/falls asleep.

Some time passes before she awakens.

“That was a fun night wasn’t it Liz, I think we both needed that, didn’t we?”

“Quite. What now?”

“Well,” Ian replies, “it’s time for phase 3 of our friendship. I’m a new man, of course.”

Ian slides her a whisky.

“But now you must forgive me, the world outside needs me. Will you join me in December for a cocktail, Liz?”

She goes to speak. Ian interjects-

“Before you answer, perhaps you’ll take the trouble of reading this…”

He passes her a handwritten note.

He leaves mysteriously, as befits an Imagination Champion.

Liz reads the note.

“Dearest Liz,

I am sorry for how our friendship ended.

But I have returned, a new man. Well, in some ways. I am an Imagination Champion now. House Storm has found its purpose, as have I.

But in truth I remain the same in other ways. I remain more deeply sad than anyone can imagine at times, when it comes to Sarah. I am sorry if I ever took that out on you.

I didn’t want us to be apart this long - you are one of my best friends. Were? Are? A supporter during times of need, second to none. And I cannot imagine House Storm returning without a fair maiden as yourself there from the start.

But I also know that it was necessary for us to have this break. And to ease slowly into things……..

So perhaps in December we could rekindle this friendship of ours, amid the flourish of Christmas festivities?

I hope - in some ways - that regardless of how Phase 2 ended (Phase 1 was before you blocked me the first time :) ) I hope you can see I’ve taken my time this time. To reflect. To allow us to have space, as you wished. As we both needed, perhaps.

I was a disgrace at the end at times - whether overly emotional - whether not just letting things be, or whether also simply aching to be inside you. I was so annoyed at whoever that prick was, I wanted you. Not entirely, I suppose, but I wanted the goods. I remember so vividly being unreasonably jealous.

After we parted ways - if you remember I had just finished my 4.5 week reset period. lol @ that now, how it ended. In many ways it was fascinating how we started that 4.5 week period (with some very sexy activities…) and how we ended.

I thought I had ended it successfully in terms of House Storm, and perhaps I did, but I was not successful in myself. If I learnt anything in that 4.5 week period, it was how broken, and how desperately grieving Sarah and that lost child I truly am. I took Lyana to Brighton at the end of that period, and I just broke down during that trip. It was quite overwhelming having her on my own, all the journey and then all the logistics, and me also trying to film a couple of shots of us while there for future content.

All the while remembering that’s where Sarah and I said we love each other, etc. I thought it would be like ridding the ghosts of the past - instead I realised how truly powerful they sodding are.

Interestingly I’m taking her back to Brighton - my second try. If we can say one thing about me, it’s that I never give up. So I hope to truly rid the ghosts this time. Or at least bend them over and give them a seeing to of my own.

So here we are… I found my way with House Storm, with my intentions, I discovered how much of a mess I am, and I have now returned.

The question is, are you ready for Phase 3?

Liz sips her whisky. She finds herself walking a little funny after the events of last night.

She receives a phone call from Harry, who was absolutely not knocking one out back at their base facility in the West-where-it-is.

“Err… mum…”

“Yes Harry, what is it now??”

“Err…”

“Come on, spit it out!”

“Well, it’s just there are 10 McDonnell Douglas AV-8B Harrier 2s outside our window… hovering…”

Liz receives a text message on her phone. It’s Ian.

“Oh,” continues Harry, “there are now red laser dots shining everywhere…”.

Liz reads the message from Ian.

Oh, just to be clear, old friend. There are consequences to your decision. Now do come along, I’ve got a world to save. Tick tock, old girl. Tick. Tock.

Liz calmly sips her whisky.

The future, is now up to you.