by StoryTeller 

"Angie, are you drunk?"

"No. Of nourse cot...don't re bidiculus."

"Aw Ange..."

Rollie guided Angie over to the couch.

"How did this happen?"

Angie smiled lopsidedly at Rollie.

She tried to uncross her eyes.

"Oh, there's two of you..."

Angie grinned wickedly.

"Double the pleasure, double the fun..."

She made a grab at the un-blurry Rollie.

"Ange?"

"Darn...missed."

"I'm going to make you some coffee."

"No, no I'm fine...jus' a little..."

"Sauced? Ange, how did you make it over here in your condition?"

"Hmmm. Don' know...oh, by the way...did the Van have a big crunch on the driver's side before? What did you do to it? Poor thing. Hmm...it's a big one..."

Rollie groaned and handed Angie the coffee mug.

"Angie you don't drink...what happened to you?"

Angie's face crumbled and she started to sniffle.

Rollie took her in an embrace.

"What is it Angie? You can tell me."

Angie buried her head in Rollies chest.

"It's...it's..."

"AAAAACCCCCHHHHHHOOOOOO!!!"

"Allerbies..."

Rollie held Angie  away from his chest.

"What happened? Did you overdose on cough medicine?"

"I dinit...I just..."

"How much did you take?"

"I don't know...the letters were blurry on the bottle and...then..."

"AAAAACCCCCHHHHHHOOOO!"

"Aw Ange. Why don't you lie down here on the couch for a while until it wears off?"

Angie sniffled.

"I wanted to finish those prints this evening...but, but."

"AAAACCCCHHHHHOOOO!!"

Angie looked up at Rollie with watery eyes...

Rollie took her in an embrace again.

"Did you try taking an allergy shot? It's the season you know."

"Yes. But..."

"What are you allergic to? Ragweed? Pollen?..."

"No, not gagreed er, ragweed or pollen..."

"What then?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. I'm allergic to you Rollie! That's why I took the whole bottle! I wanted to be here with you today and now..."

"Aw Angie...I'm sorry. Here, lie down and get some rest okay? You weren't allergic to me before...so maybe its something new? Maybe my new coat? Or, my cologne? When did your allergies start?"

He gently lay Angie on the couch and pulled a blanket over her. He knelt down by Angie's side and stroked her hair.

He handed her his handkerchief and kissed her forehead.

"I dunno. About a week ago...everytime I came over here...I started sniffling and...ACCHHHOOO!"

"Hmmm. Well, I tried a new shampoo...maybe that's it."

"Mabmy...Ach..ACHOOO!"

"Let me go upstairs and take a shower okay? I'll be back in a minute and we can test that theory."
 

When Rollie came down the stairs a while later, he was dressed in A fresh t-shirt,sweatpants and a terry-cloth robe, his hair a little damp from the shower.

He knelt beside Angie.

"Okay?"

Angie smiled.

"ACHHHHOOOO!"

"Darn it!"

"Maybe it's the laundry soap?"

He took off the robe and tossed it across a desk and leaned closer to Angie...

"Hey, I ting dat...ACKCHOOO!"

Angie grinned wickedly and shifted her position on the squeaky leather couch.

"Maybe...your.....?"

Rollie groaned.

And took off everything except...

"How cute! You have little duckies on your shorts!!! ACHHOOO!"

"Oh, no..."

Angie jumped from her lounging positon.

"Rollie! What in the the world is that??"

Rollie looked down...

"Well,Ange...if you..."

"No! What is that thing in the corner?"

Angie was pointing across the room.

"Oh! That's my dog..."

"That's a dog?"

"Yeah. You like him?"

"Rollie, he looks like a bad throw rug!"

"That's not nice Angela."

Rollie walked over and picked up the little bundle of fur.

Angie winced.

"Where'd you get that...ACHOOO! Thing?"

"Francis."

"Rollie! He's missing an ear..."

"I know. I was gonna call him Van Gogh."

Angie groaned.

"Rollie, he's missing an eye...and a couple of teeth."

"Yeah?"

"Rollie that dog must be about 300 years old!!"

"Hey! Don't upset him! He's had a hard day!"

Rollie started talking baby talk to the dog.

Angie rolled her eyes.

Rollie set the dog on the floor.

"Rollie! Holy cow! The poor thing only has three legs!!"

The dog fell over.

"And part of his tail is missing so? I think he's adorable."

The dog barked and wagged his stub and squinted his one good eye.

"See, he likes me...Don't you? You widdle, wonderful...wubbable..."

"I'm gonna be sick..."

"You don't like him? You know that they can sense that?"

Angie sighed.

"He's okay. I guess. For a cartoon character. What's his name anyway?"

"Picasso."

"Arrrghhh...ACHHOOO, ACHOOOO!"

The dog waddled up the stairs to Rollie's bedroom.

Angie stopped sneezing.

"It's him!!! It's that fuzzy fleabag!! He's what I'm allergic to not you! Ha!! When did you say you got him?"

"Last week..."

"Okay, problem solved. Get rid of the dog!"

"I can't Angie! He's my friend!"

"So am I! Would you rather  me or that thing?"

Rollie didn't answer as quickly as Angie would have liked...

"I can't believe you Rollie! You choose that little...Cubist Painting over me??"
 

Three days later...at the station...

VanDauren was sitting at his desk.

"So...are you my widdle, wovable, wonderful...yes you are! My widdle, bitty..."

The End