//------------------------------//
// A Night In A Carousel 
// Story: Dreamquestria 
// by TheBBofC 
//------------------------------//

	After about five minutes of walking, Stephen, Spike and Rarity came to the doorstep of a large and vaguely carousel-shaped building.  “Welcome to my abode, Stephen,” said Rarity as she pushed open her door.
At first it was dark.  A blue glow appeared around Rarity’s horn and several lanterns lit up around the room, revealing a wide open and spotless dress shop with gleaming white tile floors.  Highly decorated pink walls and white ceiling bounced all the light from the lanterns and illuminated the entire room as bright as day.  Numerous dresses dangled from hangers and across several racks on either side of the room.  “This is a nice place,” said Stephen.
“This is the store front of my business,” said Rarity.  “Follow me if you will.”  She continued to walk through the store with Spike close to her side.  Stephen employed his peripheral vision to follow them as he looked over the many brightly colored clothes, some of which sparkled from what appeared to be various rhinestones that were sewn into them.
Stephen followed Rarity and Spike behind the back wall of the store, leading into a large but simple kitchen with a predominately blue color scheme.  Through an archway in the back of the kitchen was a flight of stairs.  The last time Stephen tried to climb Equestrian stairs was two nights ago.  It wasn’t easy then and it wasn’t likely going to be any easier now.  Getting four legs and inverted knees to work together was already difficult enough to make him clumsy in this body.  But when Stephen saw Rarity effortlessly prance up the stairs, he assumed it was just something that had to be learned and practiced.  
Spike wasn’t far behind Rarity.  But when he got about halfway up the staircase, he turned around to face Stephen.  “What’s the matter, Stephen?” Spike asked.
Stephen responded by thinking out loud.  “My mind is playing tricks on me.  All I have to do is lift my legs up and put them down.”
“Still convinced this isn’t real, huh?” Spiked asked.
“I still got a few days before my bet with Twilight comes to fruition.”  Stephen said, putting his left front hoof on the first step.  With a nervous breath, he put his other front hoof on the second step.  Then his back left hoof on the first step.  He knew that this wasn’t the correct order when he tipped over to his left and leaned against the wall.  He put the back left hoof back on the floor and tried the back right hoof on the first step.  His balance maintained and now he knew what the correct four-legged walking pattern was for stairs.  Now all he had to do was remember it.
Spike came down the steps.  “If this isn’t real, then you probably wouldn’t feel this.”  Spike wet a claw in his mouth.
“Don’t you dare- Aah!” Stephen yelped and tipped over when Spike stuck the claw right into Stephen’s ear, giving him the sharpest wet-willie he’d ever experienced.
“I didn’t think you could feel a wet-willie in your dreams,” Spike giggled.
Getting to his feet, Stephen opened his mouth to retort, only to realize that he didn’t know what to say.  With no real knowledge or previous experience, he had no precedence for which to base any assumptions.  So he settled on, “Sometimes.”
“Can you feel this?” Spike asked and tickled Stephen’s side.
Stephen snorted, cringed and fell over.  Stephen’s ability to focus had been waning as-is and he could no longer afford the patience to deal with a jealous-mischievous dragon.  Stephen stopped himself from giggling just long enough to angrily shout.  “Yes, I feel it!  Now quit that so I can focus on climbing these stairs!”
Spike started laughing but stopped when Rarity’s voice chimed from the top of the stairs.  “Spike, would you come here please?”
“Coming, Rarity!” Spike skipped up the stairs all too enthusiastically.
Stephen sighed out both relief and contempt.  He didn’t want Spike impeding his efforts anymore.  But still, Spike could have helped him up the stairs.  But apparently it was more important that he get to Rarity before Stephen.  
About halfway up the stairs, Stephen finally got the rhythm of his legs running smoothly and the second half of the climb wasn’t nearly as difficult.  However, that didn’t make the ordeal as a whole any less taxing.  When he got to the top, he had to sit down and catch his breath. 
“Are you alright?” Rarity asked.
“I’m just a little tired,” Stephen replied.
“Be sure to let me know if you need anything then.  Anyway, welcome to my inspiration room.  This is where the magic happens.”
Examinging the room, he found Spike was in the process of setting up a sewing machine atop a fabric-littered workbench.  The rest of the room was just as large as the kitchen but not nearly as tidy as the rest of the house.  There was a writing desk with papers and drawings littering not only the surface but also the floor around it.  Pencils, measuring tapes, ribbons, glitter, fabrics, tools, everything a seamstress might need was covering every flat surface.  “It certainly looks like everything has its spot,” said Stephen.
“I call it ‘organized chaos’,” Rarity replied with a smile.  Stephen noticed in the middle of the left wall, there was a large bed with bright red comforters that were covered in lace and sewn with very elaborate designs.  Silk and lace throw pillows decorated the base of its headboard.  A sleeping cat lay curled up and sunken into one of the pillows, confirming to Stephen that the bed was as comfortable as it looked.  Stephen’s head started getting light and his vision blurred.  He wondered if it was possible to fall asleep while already dreaming and was about to try when Rarity tapped him on the shoulder.  “Oh my, you don’t look well at all,” she said, looking him over.  “Spike, please fetch us some tea for tonight.”
“Coming right up!” Spike said before sprinting back downstairs.  
Rarity prompted Stephen to get to his feet by sticking her head under his neck and lightly pushing up.  Once upright, she made sure he was stable and asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’ll be fine.  Don’t worry about me,” said Stephen.
“If you insist,” Rarity said with a dash of concern in her voice.   “Well, when you’re ready, please join me at the sewing table.”  Turning around, Rarity walked towards the workbench with the assorted fabrics.
Stephen followed suit.  “What type of dress are you making tonight?” he asked.
Rarity’s mood shifted slightly.  “It’s a wedding dress for a local bride-to-be,” she said with a sigh.
Rarity continued talking but Stephen lost his focus and zoned out.  He shook himself back to his senses when he noticed Rarity waving a hoof in front of his face.  “Huh?”
“You know it’s rude to ignore someone while they’re talking to you,” said Rarity.
“I’m sorry,” said Stephen.  “Since I’ve been having these dreams, I wake up feeling like I haven’t slept.  Imagine doing that four days in a row.”
“I’ll let it slide since you’re tired but do try to stay focused.  Spike should be up soon.  Tea always helps me when I’m pulling all-nighters.”
Stephen shook sleepiness out of his head once more.  “That’s good then.” 
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather lie down?”  Rarity pointed a hoof at her obscenely comfortable looking bed.  “Spike is usually a great help by himself.” 
“That’s generous of you but I don’t want to be dead weight.  Let's see what your tea does for me first.”
“I admire your tenacity but I’ll be sure to go easy on you nonetheless.”  Rarity’s horn started glowing and the fabrics started organizing themselves about the table.  “What I was saying before is that once the dress is done I’ll only need to make minor adjustments here and there.  So we’re getting the hard part out of the way tonight.”  Spike came into the room holding a platter with a teapot and three small cups.  “Thank you, Spike.  See to it our guest gets some and then finish preparing the sewing machine.”
“On it,” said Spike.  After Rarity stepped away, Spike glared at Stephen while pouring the tea into the three cups and setting one down in front of him.  “I’m watching you,” he said before making his way to the workbench.  
Sitting down, Stephen momentarily fumbled with the cup around his hooves before figuring out how to bend his front legs and press the cup in between them.  Now that he could hold onto it, it was time for a sip.  Although slightly too hot, the black tea was tasty and brought a small energetic kick to his stomach.  Stephen watched Spike and Rarity work for a few minutes until the tea fully hit his system, bringing a burst of energy with it.  Getting back to his feet, he moved to the workbench and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Actually, yes,” said Rarity.  “Could you be a dear and gently pull on the other end of this dress as I feed it through the machine?”  Rarity put her hooves up on the fabric as Stephen walked to the other side of the table.  “Are you ready, Spike?”
As Spike finished adjusting the sewing machine, he gave a thumbs up and called out, “Ready!”
“Are you ready, Stephen?” Rarity asked.  Stephen put one of his hooves on the fabric.  He was about to call ‘ready’ when Rarity piped up.  “No, no, no.  You’ll never be able to pull it like that.”
Stephen thought about it for a moment.  What Rarity said was true.  Without thumbs how was he going to pull the fabric?  But if he couldn’t do it with thumbs, the only other thing he could think to do was to grab it with his teeth.  But was that a good idea?  He looked at Rarity with curiosity before glancing back at the fabric.  Slowly, he lowered his head and opened his mouth towards it.  Rarity nodded approvingly.  “Okay, ready,” said Stephen.
“Fabulous!” Rarity’s horn glowed.  The sewing machine started up.  Stephen gripped the fabric in his mouth and pulled.  Rarity shrieked and stopped the machine.  “Not so fast!  You’ll break the pattern!” Rarity said with a tone of disappointment.  The fabric started glowing and the few stitches they had put in came undone.  Spike immediately came over and reset the machine.  “Go slower and pull perfectly straight.”
“Got it,” Stephen said confidently.  Gripping the fabric again, he gave a gentle tug.  “Like this?” he muttered through his teeth.
“Not quite.  Lower, make it more straight.”  Stephen responded by adjusting himself.  “More please,” Rarity’s instructions were vague, but not the worst he ever dealt with.  He glared at the dress and lowered it even more.  “Looking for perfection here,” said Rarity with a concerned tone.  Determined to get it right, he focused in on the fabric as best he could and noticed there were some wrinkles where he was pulling.  Spike giggled at him as he struggled to straighten the fabric.  “Don’t be rude, Spike.  Stephen is learning.”  
Spike scowled at Stephen, who ignored him and adjusted his grip on the fabric again.  “How’s this?”
“Closer but not quite,” said Rarity.  Spike laughed at Stephen again, earning a scolding glare from Rarity.  Spike immediately sent the same glare to Stephen; silently implying this was somehow his fault.  Stephen would have taken issue with Spike’s vengeful glare but Rarity’s dress was becoming like a customer service call.  He barely had energy or patience enough to deal with work or the characters he worked with while he was awake, much less while dreaming.
Feeling his exhaustion and stress return at the same time, he suppressed the frustration and turned to Rarity.  “May I have some more tea, please?”
“Certainly, Stephen,” Rarity said as the teapot and his cup levitated to the work station.
After being served, Stephen sat down and clasped the cup in between his hooves.  Drinking it down, he relaxed enough for a thought to enter his mind.  “Spike has thumbs.  Wouldn’t it be easier if he led the fabric?”
“Yeah, you should let Rarity and I do this alone,” said Spike.  “Your clumsiness is slowing us up.”
“Spike!” Rarity snipped.  “You’re being rude again.”  After Rarity’s scolding, Spike shrank in his place.  
“Yeah, Spike,” said Stephen.  “I’m still learning, remember?”
Rarity turned to Stephen, “Never mind him.  He’s not accustomed to staying up late either.”  Rarity turned around and refilled Stephen’s tea.  Spike glared at him while her back was turned.  That wasn’t the glare of someone who was tired.  That was the glare of someone who just had his girlfriend stolen.  Stephen continued to ignore it in hopes that Spike would realize that he had no ulterior motives for Rarity and stop messing with him.
Stephen gulped down his tea again.  “Let’s try this again,” he said, feeling slightly more energized. 
“This will go by fast if Spike sets up the machine, I watch the pattern while operating the machine and you guide the fabric, Stephen,” said Rarity.  “But in order for it to work we must be harmonious with each other.  Alright, gentlecolts?”  Spike looked over at Stephen, jealousy still in his eyes.  Stephen shot back with a squinting glare of irritation.  Then they both turned to Rarity with resigned, yet sincere expressions and nodded in agreement.  “Wonderful!  Now Stephen, if you’re feeling well enough, can you grab the dress please?”
Stephen gripped the dress again and gently pulled it down.  “Like this?” he muttered through his teeth.
Rarity sighed.  “Close, but now you’re pulling too low.” 
Stephen heard Spike mutter to himself.  “Wow, dude.  You really stink at this.”
“Allow me to assist.”  Rarity set all fours on the floor and trotted over to the other side of the table.  After positioning herself perpendicular to Stephen’s body, she hopped two hooves over his shoulders.  Stephen almost made a comment on personal space but he realized that this was a very proper and professional-mannered pony that would only get this close if necessary.  However, Stephen could tell by Spike's leer of jealous rage that he had not yet figured this out.  “Grip the fabric, please,” Rarity asked.  Stephen obliged and bit the dress.  Rarity used her hooves to push Stephen’s head into position.  “Can you hold your head here?” 
“Mmm-hmm,” Stephen muttered.
“Good,” Rarity said as she hopped off his shoulders.  Bending her head down, she lightly pressed against Stephen's chest.  “When you see the machine start I want you to pull with just this much pressure,” she nudged against his body again to simulate how she wanted him to pull.
Stephen didn’t even need to look up.  He could feel the heat emanating from Spike’s eyes.  “Got it,” he muttered.
“Marvelous!” Rarity beamed with excitement.  “Shall we try again?”  Before waiting for an answer, Rarity straightened up and went back to the other side of the table.  Spike already had the machine ready to go.  All it needed was a touch of magic.
The machine came to life.  Stephen did exactly as he was told.  For ten very long seconds, he tugged the dress through the sewing machine as Rarity supervised each stitch.  After those ten seconds of perfect pulling, Stephen’s neck wouldn’t reach back any further without turning up.  Desperate to avoid messing up Rarity’s perfect angle, he placed his right rear leg back.  While focusing on keeping the dress angle, he forgot the sequence of walking and tripped back onto his hindquarters, releasing the dress.  Rarity let out a loud gasp of surprise and brought the machine to a grinding halt.  But it was too late.  The dress had already gotten a little bundled into itself.  
Stephen scrambled to his feet.  “I’m so sorry, Rarity!  I tripped.”
One of Rarity’s eyes squinted while the other bugged out.  Stephen could see her teeth grinding through her contorted lower lip.  With a shake of her head, any indication of anger disappeared.  “It was an honest mistake, Stephen.  No need to worry.”  With that, Rarity began untangling the dress.
Stephen was almost relieved when he heard that.  “You’re really bad at this.  Maybe you should let Rarity and I do this alone and I’ll let you know if we need falling lessons.” Spike chuckled.
That was the quip that Stephen’s exhausted mind needed to snap, glaring the dragon down and raising his voice.  “You’re really bad at remembering that I normally have hands and fingers and am much better at using those when I do things.”  Stephen advanced on Spike, not breaking eye contact with his angered glare as Spike tried to retreat.  
“Gentlecolts,” Rarity begged.  “Let’s calm down please.”  
Stephen didn’t hear her.  “You’re starting to remind me of the half-wits that I work customer-service for, thinking you could even do that job when your short-little head can’t even reach the desired angle.”
“Stephen, let’s not delve into petty insults,” said Rarity.
Again, nobody heard her.  “Furthermore, if you think I want to be sleeping on a weekend and dreaming about whatever kind of world this is where I still have the same job of putting up with this type of nonsense, you are deathly mistaken.”
“Stephen, please!” Rarity called out.
Stephen’s raised his voice higher.  “I’m having a hard enough time without you constantly antagonizing me because you think I’m going to compromise whatever conceited hopes you had for impressing your crush.  So take those insecurities and shove them down your throat so you’ll be less likely to talk.  Because I already have a girlfriend and I don’t find Rarity attractive in the first place!”
Stephen embraced the taste of sweet verbal victory.  The only thing that could have made this better is if it were Damien giving him the wide-eyed look of speechlessness that Spike was giving him now.  But then Spike came onto his tiptoes and peered over Stephen’s shoulder.  Stephen was curious as to what had Spike’s attention so suddenly until a light, painful squeak came from behind.  Then another slightly more audible squeak was followed by a full-blown whimper.  Stephen’s heart sank into his stomach.  He felt his pupils shrink inside his eyes as he turned his head around the same way he had turned to meet the timberwolves.
Rarity was standing stiff and still.  But her eyes had welled up and her mouth was a quivering frown.  She sniffled and stuttered, “Well then,” before closing her eyes and lowering her head.  There was a moment's silence before she raised her head back up.  Her eyes only opened halfway and she was avoiding looking at either Spike or Stephen.  “Now that we’ve gotten that off our chests, can we get back to work, please?”
Rarity turned to face the workbench and started half-heartedly releasing the dress from the sewing machine’s clutches.  She seemed lost in thought as she used her teeth and hooves to undo the botched stitching.  “Rarity, are you alright?” Stephen asked.
“I’m fine,” she said shortly.
Spike approached the workbench and reached for the machine.  “Here, Rarity, let me help you.”
Rarity bent down her head to shove Spike away.  “No, Spike.  You’ve done quite enough.  Take a break for now.”  After a minute of awkward silence, Rarity had untangled the dress.  She turned around, held her nose in the air and walked across the room with her eyes closed.  “There are some things I need from downstairs.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Stephen asked.
“I said I’m fine,” Rarity said plainly as she walked through her bedroom door.  Shortly after, it was enveloped in a blue light and slammed itself shut.
There was another awkward silence, which was broken by Spike.  “Now look at what you’ve done!”
“Please don’t start again,” said Stephen.  “Just apologize to her when she comes back.”
“I’m not apologizing.  You’re the one that freaked out after she asked you a bunch of times to calm down.”
“I freaked out because I’m too tired to deal with you picking on me even after she asked you to stop a bunch of times.”  Stephen sat down with a sigh.  “Look, if nothing else, do it to make Rarity feel better.”
Spike folded his arms with a huff.  “Fine.”
Stephen reached out one of his front legs.  “Truce?”
After a moment of hesitation, Spike took Stephen’s hoof in his claw and shook it.  “Truce.”
“That’s good then.” 
After awaiting Rarity's return for a few silent minutes, they decided to leave her room and check on her instead.  This time, Spike stayed with Stephen on the steps.  By placing a hand on his chest, he kept him from falling forward while Stephen reverse-engineered the method of ascending the staircase.  Once they reached the bottom, they ventured through the kitchen and into the boutique.  But Rarity was nowhere to be seen.  Spike and Stephen looked at each other with concern and confusion before starting a search.
“Rarity?” Spike called out.
“What do you want?” Rarity’s voice called back.  “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I might if I could see you,” Spike replied.
Stephen located the source of her voice behind the swinging doors of the boutique’s changing room.  “Rarity, you’ve been gone for a little while.  Are you sure you’re alright?”  Stephen called through the door.
Rarity’s head popped out from behind the doors wit pink and watery eyes.  “I told you I was looking for something,” she snipped at Stephen before disappearing behind the doors again.
Spike ran up to the doors.  “I’m sorry about what happened, Rarity.  Stephen and I are done fighting now.  You can come out.”
Rarity burst through the door, knocking Spike to the side.  She walked through the boutique with her eyes closed and nose in the air, just like how she left her room.  “I can only think of one other time I’ve seen you act so brash towards a pony, Spike, and it’s not anything I’d like to remember.”  Spike sat up on the floor, keeping his eyes low.  “As for you, Stephen.”  Stephen perked up at the mention of his name.  Rarity had turned around and was talking towards him.  “I said before that I could understand your being exhausted.  But Spike is my friend and the way you berated him was uncalled for, even if he was being a little impertinent.”
If Stephen had known Rarity would be offended by his retaliation on Spike, he wouldn’t have shouted at him.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it.”
“I know that now.  It’s nothing to worry about,” she said shortly as she made her way to the other end of the room, where she climbed onto an extravagant red couch.  Her face sulked as she laid her head on a pillow.
There was another long, silent pause where Stephen and Spike exchanged confused looks.  If she wasn’t upset about their behavior anymore, why was she still sulking?  “There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?” Stephen nervously asked after studying her expression.
“Certainly not,” Rarity tried to lie.
“Then why are you still sulking?” Stephen asked.
“It’s nothing you should concern yourself with,” said Rarity.
“I won’t pry,” said Stephen.  “But do you think you can do a good job on this dress if you’re feeling so down?”
“I just need a few minutes to calm down,” said Rarity.
“We said we were sorry,” said Spike.  “What else can we do to make you feel better?”
“It’s not something a lady should discuss,”
“But I’m your friend, Rarity.  If something’s bothering you I want to help!” said Spike.
Rarity buried her face into her pillow and grunted with frustration.  After a moment of mulling it over, she lifted her head to look at Stephen.  Her eyes were welling up again.  “Stephen called me unattractive during his little tirade.”
“I did what?”
Spike ran over to Rarity and tried to pet her mane.  “But I think you’re very pretty.”
Rarity pulled away from Spike’s advance.  “No, Stephen’s right!  The uncouth behavior of Prince Blueblood may have been one thing but Stephen is a much more down-to-Earth stallion.  So why else would he say it if it weren’t true?”  
“But that’s not what I said,” Stephen spoke up, moving closer to Rarity.  “Even so, why would you think that of yourself just because of me?”  
“Why else would everypony in Ponyville except me have a very special somepony for Hearts and Hooves day?  When will I get to burst into somepony’s dress shop frantically searching for a wedding gown?”  Stephen realized on top of the insult, he also managed to tap into a deep insecurity and smash it with a verbal sledgehammer.  Something like that usually takes concentrated and deliberate effort, making this an extraordinary failure.  “I should just accept my fate of growing older and uglier in this lonely boutique as I watch all of Ponyville find love without me!  At least business will be steady with all the wedding dresses I’ll be making.”
Stephen was at a complete loss for words.  He could try to clarify his original thoughts.  But how often did that work even in real life?  He could try and take back what he said.  Would she hear it?  If there were any hope to save the night, he would have to try.  “Look, Rarity, I didn’t mean what I said.”
Rarity looked at Stephen with a stern expression.  “What else could you possibly have meant?”
After taking a moment, Stephen continued, “I just needed Spike to realize that I’m taken and only see you as a friend.  But I lost my temper and didn’t consider my wording.  I’m really sorry and I’m sure that you’re a very pretty pony.  Did Twilight tell you about me?”
“She told me you’re from somewhere far away and that you’re not really a pony.”
“Exactly, I’m a human who’s attracted to other humans.  So it’s not at all that you’re unattractive.”  Another thought passed through Stephen’s mind as he said that.  Leaning close to Rarity’s ear, he jokingly whispered, “Although I understand if that doesn’t make sense.  Is it normal for dragons to be attracted to ponies in this world?  It baffles me.”
Rarity perked up.  Covering her mouth with a foreleg, she chuckled slightly and whispered back, “It baffles some of us too.”
“Hey!” Spike protested.  “What are you guys whispering about over there?”
“But I guess you’re right, Stephen,” Rarity called out with the same chipper tone that Stephen had joked with.  She hopped off her couch and walked over to Spike.  “Little Spikey-Wikey is my number one gemstone finder.  So I guess he does have an eye for beauty.”  When she got to Spike, she gave him a quick hug, which he eagerly accepted.  “What a great big misunderstanding this has been,” she said with a sigh and a chuckle before trotting towards the kitchen.  “Come along, gentlecolts.  We’ve fallen behind in our work.” 
The rest of the night consisted of a lot of fetching materials, Spike being used as a pincushion and sewing it all together with various tools.  It was a fascinating process even if Rarity’s attention to detail felt monotonous at times.  As the hours ticked away, Stephen kept himself going on black tea.  At times, Spike yawned or lost focus as well.  But he’d quickly snap back to reality for the sole purpose of not being outdone by Stephen.  The hours flew by until the dress was finished and the morning sun was making its way into the sky.  Then Spike headed out, stating he still had morning duties at the library.

Rarity rewarded Stephen for his hard work by preparing him a French toast and salad breakfast.  They ate together and engaged in small talk until Rarity inquired, “How does your being here actually work?”
“I’m not sure but in a couple more nights I’ll concede to Twilight’s theory of me being here by way of something called a ‘Spirit Traveller’ spell.  But she’s still not even sure how that makes sense because there’s a bunch of details to the spell that don’t add up to my being here.”
“Really?  How so?”
“If I remember correctly; I’m not supposed to have an actual body, it only works up to a certain distance and I have to be willing to come.”
“And you say you only come whilst asleep?” Rarity asked.
“Yeah and as soon as I wake up, I’m back home.”
“Well, Twilight is a very smart unicorn and I’m sure she’ll have it figured out in no time at all.”
“I hope so.  Regardless of what exactly I’m doing here, it needs to get fixed soon.  Unless I can figure out a way to sleep while I’m here.”
“Say, it’s almost ten o’clock now,” said Rarity.  “The morning is almost over yet you’re still here.  Are you sure of everything you’re saying?”
“I took a sleeping pill last night.  It’s probably still got me knocked through a loop.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, apparently when I wake up I’ll just plain vanish…”

A mighty siren sounded off, startling Stephen out of his wits.  When his eyes opened, he was sitting up straight on his living room couch.  His heart was making another escape attempt as the house phone rang a second time.