"I was thinking ... " Katie began with a small flutter of a smile playing around her lips. Simon glanced up from his sawing, an eyebrow raised as he fought back the quip that immediately sprang to mind. The tip of her tongue curled around her upper lip and she slinked towards him, sexual energy sparking off of every move. He straightened up, his body's response ever quick as always when it came to his quirky, perky wife.

"Just exactly what are you thinking?" he asked as he set the saw down and wiped the sawdust off on the seat of his jeans. Turning to face her fully, a huge smile lit his face as he met the lascivious grin playing across hers. "What?" He repeated, placing his hands upon her hips, slowly rotating them as he pulled her closer and closer to him.

"I was thinking," she said again as she leaned up, her voice lowering as she captured his lips. Pulling back, she opened her mouth to speak, but before one syllable could be uttered Simon swooped down, his mouth ravaging hers in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless. Several seconds later they separated and Katie's eyes slowly opened, meeting his gaze. Her voice was soft and sweet, "I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Bending down, he gave her a quick kiss and then settled himself on the windowsill, pulling Katie onto his lap. "Now, dare I ask what exactly were you thinking?"

Brushing her hair back behind her ears, she settled snugly against him. "I was thinking ..." and she paused.

In that pause, Simon commented, "for the third time."

"I was thinking," she said again, "that we can play a little game."

He wrapped his arms loosely about her waist, his fingers entwined together. "And what kind of game would this be?" and the tone of his voice left no doubt as to what kind of game he'd like to play.

"I was driving by that costume shop on Lakeview Drive -- though why Oakdale has a costume shop is beyond me. I mean, other than Craig's Halloween party, which of course is one of the most wonderful nights of my life ever, when has anyone ever needed costumes?" She looked at him, actually expecting an answer.

Simon grinned, "I don't know and your point is ..."

"My point?" She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and then with a quick smile, she continued. "Oh, I think we should rent some costumes and play," she paused and the tone of her voice left no doubt as to what kind of 'playing' she had in mind, " dress-up."

Nodding his head, Simon unhooked one arm and stroked his chin reflectively, "Hmm, dress-up? Yeah, that could be fun." And then grinning widely, he turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "What kind of costumes we talking about? Will you be my little French maid? My naughty Florence Nightingale?"

Giggling lightly, she leaned in close and whispered against his lips, "let's find out."

Margo stood impatiently outside the Frasier's Enchanted Cottage, her foot tapping a steady rat-a-tat. If one of them didn't open the door in five seconds, she was rescinding her invit -- "Margo!" came a high-pitched squeak that interrupted her mental berating. She took in Katie's appearance in one quick glance and her jaw dropped in shock (although why anything her baby sister did shocked her anymore was a question no one could answer).

Katie stood before her wearing a cop's uniform. Obviously, a FAKE cop's uniform by the look of it -- the color was off, the buttons were definitely two sizes too large, and the nameplate was bigger than her fist and read 'Officer Sexy.' A matching hat sat atop her mussed hair and her eyes were sparkling with a mischievousness that Margo simply did not trust. And then, of course, there was the cop's uniform. With a sigh, she snapped her jaw shut. Katie was Katie; it was best not to ask.

Shaking her head, Margo stepped past her into the small, yet cozy home that Katie and Simon were so proud to call their own. And then she came to a dead stop, her mouth falling open yet again -- the fact that anything these two did shocking her, still a mystery -- at the sight of her brother-in-law. Simon Frasier stood, as casually as he could, handcuffed against the stairwell.

Wearing jeans.

And no shirt.

Damn, he has a fine chest, she thought, before shaking her head at the inappropriateness of that insight (which if truth be told had been made clear to her on numerous occasions in the past). Where was I? She asked herself mentally as she remembered to close her jaw ... again. Oh yes, brother-in-law -- she mentally re-stressed that brother-in-law -- standing shirtless in jeans handcuffed while her sister wore a cop's outfit. Closing her eyes on a long-drawn out sigh, she shook her head again, turned to meet a slightly abashed Katie, who stood twirling -- oh my God! -- a nightstick with a velvet tip. Margo clamped her jaw tight, took a deep breath and then calmly cleared her throat.

Looking at a space not occupied by her improperly clad sister or her barely clad brother-in-law (who was still looking mighty fine, handcuffed and all) she spoke tightly. "Tom and I are having a family dinner, Craig and Lucy will be there. The two of you," and for the life of her she could not keep the exasperation out of her voice then, "are, of course, invited." Shaking her head once more, she met Simon's chagrined expression and then turned to meet the still abashed, and yet obviously eager one on Katie's face and without another word, she stalked out of the house.

Lucy took a deep breath, determined to not think about Aaron Snyder for five seconds. "God!" she muttered quietly, "just get out of my head ..." Knocking on the door to Aunt Katie and Uncle Simon's 'enchanted little cottage,' her bruised heart gave a sigh at the sheer romance of the love story that the two shared. She had thought that she had found the same kind of love with Aaron.

Biting her lip to fight back the sob that threatened to burst at the thought of the long-haired boy invading her thoughts again, she knocked on the door once more. She heard laughter behind it, before it opened with a flourish, Katie's blond hair -- curly today -- bouncing around, as wild as her personality. "Hey, Lucy!" She cried out and Lucy sullenly reflected that at least Katie was happy to see her, even if Aaron wasn't.

Lucy moved in and brushed past Katie's arm that blocked the doorway for some reason and looked about the room, kinda hoping that Uncle Simon wouldn't be there, she really needed to talk to her aunt about Aaron. And then she saw him -- Uncle Simon that was -- leaning casually against the fireplace, wearing leather pants and a black netted shirt, his spiky hair standing up, gleaming with gel or something. And she would swear on a stack of bibles he was wearing eyeliner. For the first time in weeks, any and every thought of Aaron Snyder (or any other guy for that matter) slipped completely out of her brain.

Yeah, Uncle Simon was hot, of course she had noticed, she wasn't blind, but he was old, well, not as old as Daddy, but still pretty old. I mean, he was married and all ... but right now. Damn, he was really, really hot. So hot that she had actually used a curse word. She could feel the drool beginning to form and tried desperately to close her mouth.

"Uhm, Lucy, honey, did you need something?" came Aunt Katie's voice from behind her. Lucy meant to turn around and speak to her aunt, really she did, but Uncle Simon was so hot.

"You are so hot!" she breathed, unable to comprehend that her aunt probably had sex with him a lot ... probably a few times a week even. "Omigod!" Her hands flew to her mouth. She had just said that out loud. And then she did turn to Katie. "Just the hot part right, I just said the hot part outloud? Please don't tell me I said ..." and she trailed off, her cheeks no doubt burning away.

Grinning, Katie slipped an arm around her shoulder and Lucy noticed for the first time that in addition to the curls, she was also dressed really strange, like that girl from Flashdance. "It's okay, your Uncle Simon is very," and she paused ,this husky note entering her voice, "hot." And Lucy suspected that they might actually have sex more than a few times a week and in fact might be ....

"Omigod! I -- I have to go, I mean, you were .... Okay, uhm, have fun. Gosh, I mean. Yeah, I'll talk to you later." And she pulled out of Katie's loose grip and flashed one quick glance over at her -- really hot! -- Uncle Simon and fled from the cottage. As she ran towards her car, she heard the mixed laughter of her aunt and uncle as one of them closed the door. Sighing, she leaned against the hood and let out a shaky breath, her thoughts wandering. Turning around to face the windshield, she caught her reflection and pictured herself for a moment dressed like Aunt Katie ... and Aaron decked out like Uncle Simon.

Maybe she should give him another chance ... after all, Uncle Simon used to be gigolo (according to Holden) and look at him now. There was hope for Aaron yet.