Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!

Aunt Henrietta and the Poltergeist (Missing Scene)

Professor Everett adjusted himself in the chair with a groan, moving one of Waldo's paws from a tender spot on his abdomen. He really didn't need the dog sleeping on his lap, but he couldn't raise the energy needed to push Waldo off. He glanced over to see Hal's head drooping, then settled back himself. No doubt one of them would awaken if someone came in and started moving the furniture again! In no time, the Professor was sound asleep.

It seemed as if he had just closed his eyes when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. In his half-asleep state, the Professor thought it was his wife Sonja, who often had had to wake him up to come to bed. Without opening his eyes, he quickly reached up and curved a hand around her neck to bring her closer for a kiss. Even as his lips touched hers, it registered that this woman was nominally resisting his gentle tugging; she did not smell like his wife, who had favoured rose scent over this heady lilac; and that this was not his wife's eager kiss. Instead, these lips were firmly closed against him. Knowing Sonja often teased him by playing hard to get, he ignored the other discrepancies and, still kissing her, he twisted slightly and pulled her around the back of the chair, drawing her down on top of him as his arms closed around her. At her gasp, whether of indignation or delight he wasn't sure, his kiss deepened. It came to him then that he had been wanting to kiss Phoebe Figalilly for quite some time, and now that she was in his arms, however it had come about, he was going to make the most of it. Suddenly she seemed to catch fire, responding to and returning his kiss urgently.

Although she had realized instantly he had mistaken her for his late wife, Phoebe was lost the moment her mouth opened to his. The flooding sensations of his passion rolled over her and swept her away as his kiss unlocked the restraints on her own emotions. Deep within her soul was the truth she had been avoiding ... this was the man she was meant to love. Dimly it occurred to her that although he may not have known her for herself at first, he did now. He was kissing HER, Phoebe Figalilly, and enjoying it every bit as much as she was.

Then both suddenly stilled as they heard Hal grunt when moving a chair. Phoebe scrambled off the Professor, aghast at her wanton behaviour, and struggling for composure. The Professor sat up as Phoebe crouched behind the chair, and motioned for him to look towards Hal. Heads close together, they both watched as the boy, his eyes closed, moved the chairs up to the table he had already placed in the centre of the room, and set the lamp on the table.

"Well, I'll be ..." the Professor began to say out loud.

Phoebe hushed his words automatically, her lips near his ear as she put her hand up. "Shh ... One should never disturb a poltergeist while he's sleepwalking!" she whispered.

Having finished setting up the scenario, Hal made his way up the stairs.

"It was Hal sleepwalking who was doing the furniture re-arranging?" the Professor asked, pushing Waldo off his legs and standing up quickly.

"It appears so, Professor," Phoebe said. Her eyes couldn't quite meet his, now that he was fully awake and they were alone. "I assume you'll tell him in the morning?"

"Or we will," he sighed. Then he looked at her sharply, "I was having a rather strange dream when you woke me ..."

If only he would continue to think of those kisses as a dream! Phoebe patted his hand reassuringly, and said, "Well, perhaps it's all for the best. As we have just seen, one can have many different experiences while asleep. Good night, Professor. I doubt we'll have another visit from our resident poltergeist tonight." and she vanished up the stairs, leaving a puzzled man standing alone in the living room.

Had he really been dreaming as she was suggesting? He could have SWORN he had actually kissed her! It was so vivid, so real ... so intoxicating! Grumbling to himself, the Professor made his way upstairs to bed.

The next morning, after a restless night reliving the moments he had held Nanny in his arms and almost positive it had NOT all been in his imagination, the Professor went downstairs before the children, hoping to speak with her alone.

"Nanny ... Phoebe ... about last night ..." he began awkwardly, after walking into the kitchen to find her fixing breakfast as usual.

She turned a determinedly sunny face towards him. "Don't give it another thought, Professor. I haven't. It certainly wasn't your fault Hal was sleepwalking!"

"I didn't mean about ..." he began, but she interrupted him again.

"Coffee's ready, Professor. I just poured it, so you'd best drink it while it's hot."

Disgruntled, he sat down, realizing he was not going to be able to talk about last night right now. He should have been relieved that she wasn't going to admit to having accepted and returned his kisses, but unreasonably, it irked him. What was wrong with his kisses that she could put them out of her mind like that? Was he the only one to have recognized the passion that had flared between them? How could she blatantly ignore the sexual spark that so obviously was present every time they were together now? Hearing thumping footsteps on the stairs, the Professor said to her, lowering his voice significantly, "We'll talk later."

"Perhaps." she was noncommittal. "Oh, Professor, you should tell Hal about last night right away ..."

Tell HAL about the romantic interlude they had shared? Staring at her in shock for a moment or two, the Professor suddenly recalled the catalyst for the kisses. Right. Tell Hal about his sleepwalking ...

Then the children burst into the kitchen, eager to hear about the night before. When the Professor, prompted by Nanny, explained circumstances of the sleepwalking, Nanny smiled at Hal. "It isn't so hard to understand, really!"

"It is to me," he grumbled.

Nanny quickly embarked on a logical explanation for his actions, knowing the facts would help him accept what he had done. "Right, Professor?" she concluded, turning to him for confirmation.

"Excellent, Dr. Figalilly," he returned, and Nanny smiled at him.

Butch was disappointed that they didn't have a ghost, and Prudence asked if she could stay up and watch Hal sleepwalk that night. Nanny smiled at the little girl, and assured her that Hal wouldn't likely do it again, now that his conscious had caught up with his subconscious. The Professor wanted to bring up the OTHER part of the evening he couldn't forget, but Nanny didn't seem to want to talk about it and he certainly couldn't say anything with the children still around. Contenting himself with one longing look at her lips, and resolving to make an opportunity to kiss her again sometime, he obligingly changed streams and began to quiz Nanny about how she had known when to come downstairs.

Being Nanny, of course, her explanation was convoluted and, naturally, involved a Figalilly relative. The children were enthralled, but the Professor was less than enthusiastic. Finally he said, "Now, wait a minute. Let us approach this subject calmly and reasonably ..."

At that moment, the front door banged, and Aunt Henrietta's voice could be heard carolling, "Hello! Where is everyone?"

"Disregard instructions," the Professor said grimly, "You're on your own." With Aunt Henrietta around, he knew he'd never be able to be calm and reasonable ... and CERTAINLY would not be able to chase the children out and speak with Nanny privately, let alone kiss her! Perhaps it was best to pretend, as she seemed to be doing, that it had all been a dream ...