It was a more pleasing sight than she would ever thought possible an hour ago, when it had looked as if she had just fought the battle of Waterloo sin...gle handed!.She had washed the blood from her face and treated the cuts with an alum pencil (God - had that stung!) and been relieved to see that the damage was a lot less fearful and far more superficial than it had felt when the fight was in progress. A bit of make-up sufficed to hide all but the bruises around both eyes, but even these she was. He stroked her hair and gently swayed her as with a crying baby trying to soothe the tears from her eyes and caressed her face wiping her tears as they formed. “It’s OK; it’ll be fine no matter what happens” He reassured her. Symon carried Emma to her bedroom and an impish smile began to form on her lips as she nestled her head against his chest. Emma’s nature had always been impulsive and she almost never failed to take advantage or make the most of any situation. Her initial guilt was now. “You're my brother, that works to my advantage for several reasons. First, you are available and convenient. Second, I know that you are not some r****t or serial killer so I’m safe. Third, you don't have any deadly STDs. Fourth, if you have sex with me I know I won't be the latest breaking news at your work. And last, you are not getting any right now so you must have a good deal of sexual energy to work off and I intend on working it off you.“I have no intention of going out and finding. We've been friends for," he paused for a moment then continued, "two years, eight months, and about three weeks." What the hell? You actually know how long we've known each other down to the week?" No, I know it to the day, actually. We met on the 31st of August, 2009. You are one of my few real friends, after all," he said with a warm smile."That's nice to know," she said and then kissed him on the cheek. "Hey, I know that you like to read some pretty racy things. Mind sharing where I might.