"It's overrated," Joe said. And then, "It's not as if we haven't been there." Disappointment hovered. "How about a back rub?" She read his eyes for a moment and said, "That would be nice." "Oh, good." They entered the elevator relieved to be still together. He took off his shoes in her room and lay down on the bed. Daisy slid next to him and turned on her side. He rubbed her shoulders and upper back for a long time, but she did not relax. He reached over and turned out the light. She said nothing. He continued and then, without thinking, he put his teeth on the muscle above one of her shoulder blades and shook her slightly. She winced and he bit harder. She cried out and spun around, drawing him tightly to her. "Hold me," she said. "Hold me." He put his arms around her as she began to shake and sob. She beat softly on his back with her fists, and he held her more tightly. Gradually, her shaking eased and she breathed more evenly. Without speaking, they undressed and lay side by side. She had helped him once in a similar way. How strange, he thought. And how right. "I've been brave," she said. "I'll bet you have." Her hand moved down his stomach, almost as an afterthought. She urged him over on top of her and guided him into her. They lay complete. Sometime later, out of no particular necessity, he began to move slowly in and out. It was better than talking. Reassuring. I am right here, he was saying. I love you. He went on and on. "Oh," she cried. "Oh . . . Oh . . . Oh . . . " Her head fell back on the pillow. "Oh . . . " And then, "Joe?" She put her hands on his buttocks and pulled him deeper into her. "Joe?" He gave in. Near the top of the wave that picked him up, he put his mouth on her open mouth and felt her calling, drawing him over. He poured into her, tumbling, giving her everything. "My hero," Daisy said. She was leaning on one elbow and looking into his face. It was morning. "Nah . . . " Joe said. "I thought I'd forgotten how." "No way," he said, waking up. "Don't you look great! You look like a little girl." "I've got a favor to ask," she said. "I want to remember you like this. I can get myself to the airport." "Uh--when will I see you again?" Joe asked. "I'm going home through France," she said. "You know, I have a studio on the property in Woodstock." "Woodstock," Joe groaned. "Maybe you'd like to spend some of the winter out here?" They were too experienced to let the future spoil the moment. They smooched. Joe took a shower. He dressed, and they talked for a few minutes before he hugged her. "Goodbye, beautiful," he said. "Goodbye, Launcelot, Lochinvar . . . " He started toward the door and turned back a step toward her. "Strider," he said. "Strider," she drawled, smiling. They let go of each other with the total release that binds across any space or time.