And, of course, when this is all over, I’ll pay you back the cash you gave me and whatever you spend on the computer and these other things.” “Damn right you will, Shane. And forty percent interest. Per week. Compounded hourly. Plus your child. Your child will be mine.” Chris laughed. “My Aunt Rumpelstiltskin.” “You won’t make smart remarks when you’re my child, Christopher Robin. Or at least you’ll call me Mother Rumpelstiltskin, Sir.” “Mother Rumpelstiltskin, Sir!” Chris said, and saluted her.
Lol awww
