As if Vicki's life wasn't weird enough, one day Mike ate an apple and fell asleep. Deeply, deeply asleep.
"You've got to be kidding me," she said, when he didn't wake up (she'd even tried a taser) and the apple spontaneously combusted.
"I could kiss him!" Coreen was sometimes helpful, but this was not one of those times. "Or you could kiss him."
"Could you please just grab his legs and help me get him to the sofa?" She'd already tried kissing him, but wasn't about to mention that.
They spend the rest of the day looking for information, Coreen checking the internet and books, Vicki chasing down leads.
They ended up having to fight a dragon (okay, so it was no bigger than a St. Bernard, but it was still a freaking fire-breathing, honest to God dragon). Henry killed it with the sword because of course nothing could go right. He had to be the one to hold the bloodied sword over Mike's body, recite medieval French poetry (in the original language) declaring his love and eternal devotion to the sleeping beauty, and kiss him.
"Fitzroy, your sword's dripping on me." There was a pause – an inhaled breath before the storm – while Mike took in where he was, who was over him, Henry's smirk, Vicki's innocent expression, and the way Coreen avoided his eyes. "Were you just kissing me?"
Of course, that's when the dwarves showed up.