More from pegkerr
"You want me," Aragorn whispered. "Admit it."
"No, I do not want you," I told him coldly. "I came into Toys R Us to buy a Christmas present for my niece. Spare me your blandishments."
"You came for me," he said confidently.
I let go of him hastily and started to walk away, but I managed only a few steps before I stopped and looked back at him over my shoulder.
"You see?" he whispered in that sexy guttural growl. "You need me."
"I do not need you," I said with a great deal of bravado, but I was weakening, and he knew it.
"I'll keep orcs away from your office."
"I already have Sam and Frodo action figures over my computer monitor. They're doing a fine job at keeping orcs away, thank you very much."
"Oh, come on," he said. "They don't have a sword like Anduril. And I have real arrow launching action."
I sighed, picked him up again, and threw him in the cart. He was right. He was mine . . . or I was his, I don't know which. Anyway, there he stands now, on top of my bookcase. He looks smug. I'll forgive him eventually.
It's downright embarrassing in a way. I've bought more action figures in my forties than at any other point in my life.
Note: A coworker noticed the Sam and Frodo action figures I have on my desk at work. (He's a fan, too). I gave him my standard line, that I keep them at my desk to keep orcs away. He gave me a pitying look. "Peg, you work at a law office," he said. "I see orcs at your desk all the time."