24
We were sitting comfortably on the sofa; me leaning on Marty's shoulder, his arm around me.
"Are you comfortable talking like that?" Marty asked, softly, a murmur in my ear. "You still haven't said what you want to talk about. I thought we clarified our issues."
"Ah, yes," I said, blushing. "I'd rather talk about it like this. It concerns… delicate matters."
My face must have been red as a tomato, although I couldn't see it. But I could feel the blood on my face.
"Ah," Marty's voice came after a pause. He seemed amused. "So it's that kind of conversation. About the birds and the bees."
"I know where babies come from," I said. "I know the process. But I want to talk to you about the implications… of how magic works."
He sighed, and I felt his chest move under my head.
"Are you su
