The day is only half done, and you're still smarting from the close loss in the last CC phase of your first game. Sitting at the table with your ASL kit, you're reading through the CC/Melee rules once again, while around you the general hum of voices is occasionally punctuated with the sound of dice in a glass, or the exclamation of disgust at a result.
Your vision fogs a little as your mind relives the last moments of your loss. "If only I had moved..."
You're startled out of your replay by the sudden, unnatural silence that has enveloped the gaming room. You look around, and then follow everyone else's eyes to the main door. She's standing there, confidently, wearing a loose tank top and shorts. Like every man in that room, you're thinking "is that all she's wearing?"
She seems impervious to the stares as she continues to scan the room. Your eyes meet! She locks on you, a hint of a sparkle in her eyes. You try to swallow, but it hurts.
She casually walks to your table, stopping across from you. She looks down at your kit, and gently strokes the side of your dice tower, custom ordered from Italy.
"Nice wood... work," she says slowly. Looking through her eye-lashes, she continues, "I hope you're not... compensating for something." You try to swallow again, but it hurts more.
"Up... for a game?" she asks, her hand still stroking the dice tower.
"Sure," you squeak, an octave too high.
She slowly sits down, and the first tentative sounds of a resumption of gaming starts to drift across the room. You desparately look to your kit, hoping for some inspiration on what to say next.
She leans forward, but only far enough for you to desparately wish she would lean farther. "Let's try Probing Layforce," she purrs.
<sqeak>
Her careful enunciation of the scenario title causes involuntary muscle twitches around your hips. "I'll take the Germans," she says, sitting back in her chair. Is she smirking?
She reaches for the German tray, and begins to collect her forces. You've never seen counters handled in such a sultry manner before. You envy them at this moment. It takes you twice as long as normal to get your forces gathered because of uncontrollable tremors in your fingers.
Finally, set-up is complete. You reach for the combat tables, and as you set them beside the boards she reaches for your hand. You touch. Skin on skin. Tremors explode across your body. You stop breathing.
Her gaze into your eyes is steady, purposeful, commanding. You sense her grip intensify ever so slightly. With a voice that is full, throaty, and dripping with passion, she says, "I only play... with the IIFT."
<squeak>