They all paused. "The perfect man? Seriously?" Jaine wrinkled her nose.
            "Seriously."
            "This is going to take some thinking," Marci pronounced.
            "Not for me," T.J. said, the laughter fading from her face. "The most important thing is that he wants the same things out of life that you do."
            They lapsed into a little pond of silence. The attention their laughter had gotten them from the diners at the surrounding tables moved on to more promising targets.
            "Wants the same things out of life," Marci repeated as she wrote it down. "That's number one? Are we agreed?"
            "That's important," Jaine said. "But I'm not sure it's number one."
            "Then what's number one for you?"
            "Faithfulness." She thought of her second fiance, the bastard. "Life's too short to waste it on someone you can't trust. You should be able to depend on the man you love not to lie to you or cheat on you. If you have that as a base, you can work on the other stuff."
            "That's number one for me," Luna said quietly.
T.J. thought about it. "Okay," she finally said. "If Galan wasn't faithful, I wouldn't want to have a baby with him."
            "I'll go along with that," Marci said. "I can't stand a two-timer. Number one: He's faithful. Doesn't cheat or lie."
            They all nodded.
            "What else?" She sat with the pen poised over the pad.
            "He should be nice," T.J. offered.
            "Nice?" Marci looked incredulous.
            "Yes, nice. Who wants to spend her life with a jerk?"
            "Or next door to one," Jaine muttered. She nodded in agreement. "Nice is good. It doesn't sound exciting, but think about it. I think Mr. Perfect would be kind to kids and animals, help old ladies across the street, not insult you when your opinion is different from his. Being nice is so important it's close to being number one."
            Luna nodded.
            "Okay," Marci said. "Hell, you've even convinced me. I don't guess I've ever known a nice guy. Number two: Nice." She wrote it down. "Number three? I have my own idea on this one. I want a guy who's dependable. If he says he's supposed to meet me somewhere at seven, he should be there at seven, not come strolling in at nine-thirty or maybe not at all. Is there a vote on this one?"
            They all four raised their hands in an aye vote, and "Dependable" went down in the number three slot.
            "Number four?"
            "The obvious," Jaine said. "A steady job."
            Marci winced. "Ouch. That one hurt." Brick was currently sitting on his butt instead of working.
            "A steady job is part of being dependable," T.J. pointed out. "And I agree, it's important. Holding down a steady job shows maturity and a sense of responsibility."
            "Steady job," Marci said as she wrote.
            "He should have a nice sense of humor," Luna said.
            "Something more than an appreciation for The Three Stooges?" Jaine asked.
            They began snickering. "What is it with men and The Three Stooges?" T.J. asked, rolling her eyes. "And bodily function jokes! Put that number one, Marci -- no toilet jokes!"
            "Number five: Sense of humor," Marci chuckled as she wrote. "In the interest of fairness, I don't think we can dictate what form the humor takes."
            "Number six." Marci called them to order by tapping her pen on the rim of her glass. "Let's go back to business, ladies. What's number six?"
They all looked at each other and shrugged. "Money's nice," T.J. finally offered. "It isn't a requirement, not in real life, but this is fantasy, right? The perfect man should have money."
            "Filthy rich or comfortable?"
            That called for more thought.
            "I like filthy rich, myself," Marci said.
            "But he would want to call all the shots if he was filthy rich. He'd be used to it."
            "No way is that going to happen. Okay, money is nice, but not too much money.  Comfortable. Mr. Perfect is financially comfortable."
            Four hands went up, and "Money" was written in beside number six.
            "Since this is fantasy," Jaine said, "he should be good-looking. Not drop-dead gorgeous, because that could be a problem. Luna's the only one of us pretty enough to hold her own with a handsome guy."
            "I'm not doing so good at it, am I?" Luna replied with a tinge of bitterness. "But, yeah, for Mr. Perfect to be perfect, you should enjoy looking at him."
            "Hear, hear. Number seven is: Good to look at." When she had finished writing, Marci looked up with a grin. "I'm going to be the one to say what we've all been thinking. He should be great in bed. Not just good; he should be great. He should be able to make my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. He should have the stamina of a Kentucky Derby winner and the enthusiasm of a sixteen-year-old."
            They were still rolling with laughter when the waited plunked their orders down on the table. "What's so funny?" he asked.
            "You wouldn't understand," T.J. managed to gasp.
            "I get it," he said wisely. "You're talking about men."
            "Nope, we're talking science fiction," Jaine said, which sent them off again.