Log Date:
	8/6/97, 8/7/97

Log Cast:
	Kuxli, Shenneret Veery, Paul Nighman

Log Intro:
	On Kichnar Station, Shenner has unexpectedly run into the Horansi
Kuxli once more -- and to her astonishment, Kuxli has asked whether she and
Paul would be willing to take him on as a paying passenger on their vessel.
Nervous and fretful over the state of her relationship with the Corellian,
Shenner has nevertheless punted the decision to Paul, who has agreed to let
Kuxli fly with them to Tatooine, their next destination. But Shenner has
been startled and dismayed as Kuxli, meaning well, has inquired of her whether
Paul is her 'boyfriend' -- and, upon hearing uncertainty from her on the
matter, and that they _are_ sleeping together, whether she loves him and
he her. Fretting over these very questions has succeeded in keeping Shenner
in a tense frame of mind...
	... which has been aided, this next day, by Paul receiving some
mysterious news that has kept him in a positively foul mood. Anxious about
whatever has brought on such a black temperament from him, Shenner has kept
out of his way, but lingered near the ship, trying to figure out how she
can help, if at all.
	And finally, that night....

----------
Kuxli is just walking into the ship, armoured head turning slowly as he sets 
  his duffle bag down on the deck beside him. "Hey Shen," he growls out in his 
  gutteral basic, ears perking up.
Kuxli drops Duffel bag.

Main Ring -- Quasar Bolt(#6524RVat)
This is the main area of the ship and obviously serves multiple purposes. The 
  entrance is open and airy, with several couches and a table. It is designed 
  to be an area for passengers and the occasional crew to lounge in. There is 
  a computer terminal available in one corner. To the right, sectioned off 
  slightly, is a kitchen area, well stocked with the latest in cooking 
  equipment as well as a fine assortment of food. Off to the back of the 
  entrance space is a walled off crew quarters section. To save space, the 
  bunks are folded up into the wall space and can be pulled down at will. 
  There is a storage unit available for personal belongings next to each bunk 
  compartment. There is a door visible, leading off to the right next to the 
  kitchen, but it is locked.
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Duffle Bag
=> Kuxli(#3872PLACF)
=> Captain's Quarters
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <OUT> leads to <KOS> Level 4 -Landing Pad-.
 <A>ft leads to Cargo Hold -- Quasar Bolt.
 <F>ore leads to Cockpit -- Quasar Bolt.

Shen has spent a restless day in and about the _Hawk's Wing_, possessed by a 
  fretfulness that hasn't gone away no matter what she's done to try to 
  alleviate it -- study, music, or even exploration of the hangar bay. Now, 
  with her datapad and holodiscs and both flutes scattered about her where she 
  sits on one of the couches, her face lined and tired, the girl looks up at 
  the big feline's entrances. "Hiya," she calls over softly.

Kuxli's whiskers fall against his muzzle, and from the way the horansi walks 
  it looks as if he's had an ale or two. He sits down on the arm of a couch, 
  the other end rising a little. "Hmm, you look bored.."

Shenner stiffly stretches, pushing a hand through her hair. It's gotten longer 
  since the last time Kuxli saw her; it's softer and fuller now, with her 
  forelock draping frequently over her eye, and the strands in the back 
  beginning to develop wavelets where they brush the back of her neck. A more 
  delicate look, this, for Shenner -- and it only serves to emphasize the 
  weariness in her features. "Twitchy," she amends sheepishly.

Kuxli flicks an ear at that, and as the other side of his couch goes up 
  further he stands from it, flashing an annoyed look. He slides over to sit 
  safely in it's middle, "Twitchy.." he asks, as if confused, "Nerve problems?"

Paul_Nighman enters the room from the blast door leading to the cockpit.
Paul_Nighman has arrived.

Shenner sets the datapad aside, and props her chin in her hands, plunking both 
  elbows down on her crossed legs. A smirk, rather more familiar than her 
  longer hair and more feminine form, crosses her features. "Nah... other 
  problems," she says quietly to the Horansi.

Kuxli hrmph's, stretching out across his recently claimed couch. The oldest of 
  the lot, looking like a few scratches from horansi claws wouldn't make much 
  of a different. "Other-" he cuts himself off as the door to the cockpit 
  opens, looking up at Paul.

If his mood of the day was a thunderstorm brewing, it's transformed to a 
  tornado. Giving Shen and Kuxli a weak nod of acknowledgement as best, he 
  makes his way directly back to the bar and pours himself a large glass of 
  Corellian's finest, and hardest, ale. At the last minute he remembers his 
  manners and in a rough and growly voice he asks Kuxli, "Want any?"

Kuxli flashes Shenner a questioning look, then replies with a slow shake of 
  his head, blinking a few times. "No, no... already had too much." his tone 
  suddenly quieter as he sits back up.

Another jerk of his chin is Paul's response. He makes his way back toward the 
  two, settling himself down backwards on a chair. He takes a deep draught 
  from his glass, setting it down on the table beside him. He also carelessly 
  drops there a datapad with strange looking text on it. Shifting the chair so 
  that it is facing Shenner, he leans against the back of it and says sharply, 
  "Shen, I need you to do me a favor ... I need you to stay here with Marcus 
  while I take Kuxli to Tatooine."

Shenner straightens where she sits, one foot sliding off the couch as she 
  studies the Corellian. The girl's green eyes flicker a bit as he stalks 
  right past her, but other than a brief swallow, she gives no sign of minding 
  this -- until Paul turns back around to join them. _Then_ she stiffens, eyes 
  widening. "What? Why?"

Kuxli blinks once more, sitting up straighter in his seat as a frown forms 
  along his muzzle. The springs underneath him groan in protest from his 
  weight, "Wh- what? Er, you dont have to take me there if it's trouble.."

"Something's come up," he mutters sarcastically, giving the pad a half glance. 
  Shifting to look over at Kuxli, his eyes narrow slightly, and he adds, "It's 
  up to you ... it's no trouble for me to take you but Tatooine is definitely 
  trouble right now, so make your choice carefully. As for why I need to go 
  there, well," he continues, drawing back and reaching for his glass. "I have 
  some business there that just became more pressing." Another deep draught 
  brings the glass to half empty in Paul's eyes.

Kuxli's eyes lower towards the deck, shaking his armoured head slowly as he 
  mutters. "Always business someplace more pressing, with everyone these 
  days..." who knows what brought that from the horansi, as he slowly looks at 
  Paul again. "Why does Shenner have to get left behind though?"

"Because," he almost barks, and then the Corellian pulls back hard on the 
  defensive reaction, softening his tone. "Because, like I said, Tatooine is 
  especially dangerous right now, and I don't want her there."

Shenner's features tauten, and worry springs into her gaze. Kuxli speaks 
  before she can, though, and she flicks a look to him as he does -- then 
  returns her gaze to Paul. Something in her stance suggests she's somehow 
  braced herself, as if for a blow, and her voice has taken on a husky edge as 
  she demands, "Paul, what's goin' on?"

His gaze slowly drifts back over the Shen, taking on a slightly pained edge as 
  he meets her features. "You sure you want to know?" he asks her with a tone 
  of caution in his voice, "You aren't going to like it."

Kuxli silences himself as the 'warning' if given, leaning back into the couch. 
  He nods a little, as to signify that he's ready to hear whatever news there 
  is, his shifting between the two.

The girl frowns. Her eyes and expression broadcast 'I already don't like this' 
  -- but what she says is, "If you want me to stay here, then I wanna know 
  why."

Reaching for the datapad, Paul slips in a different disc, configures it, and 
  tosses the pad over to Shenner. "Read this," he informs her, "it's just the 
  beginning."

Shenner's frown deepens, but she takes up the pad again and starts scanning 
  the new output on the little screen.

Paul_Nighman pages: It's a note from Luke, dated nearly a month ago - it reads 
  "Paul, be wary of Grathix. He was responsible for Han's disappearance from 
  Palahni. I'm coming to Tatooine within the week, meet me at coords 5392912 
  if you can make it. Dune City. Take care. Luke

Kuxli's eyes flicker towards the pad as it is passed, sitting up taller as he 
  tries to read it from over here.

Shenner's face suddenly hardens further, and she abruptly slams the pad down 
  on the couch beside her, then slumps back towards the wall. "Gods _damn_ 
  it!" she swears, smacking her forehead. "He told me he didn't mean nothin' 
  against Solo!"

Kuxli's eyes widen as he listens, then stands up and quickly pads over to pick 
  up the pad in one paw. Head tilted down as he reads it.

Paul just nods, knowing that that is only the tip of the iceberg. "I only just 
  got that a few days ago ... I couldn't hail anyone at that site, so I called 
  Jessalyn on Yavin to see if she knew anything." There is a long dark pause 
  before Paul continues. "Seems she went with Luke, for training. Now, maybe 
  everything is fine, I don't know. What I do know is that I can't raise 
  either of them, no one has heard anything for awhile, and the Empire is 
  systematically taking over Tatooine. You do the numbers."

Kuxli squints as he reads the message, then sets it back down, still looking 
  confused. "Whats this gotta do with a guy named Marcus and Shenner here?" he 
  asks, motioning to her with a paw.

Shenner sits up again, her eyes turning hot and hard, focusing sharply on the 
  Corellian pilot. "And you want me to stay here while you go to Tatooine?" 
  Strangely, the girl hasn't raised her voice, though her tone has grown 
  noticeably more rough.

Regarding Kuxli with a saint's patience, and the disapproval of a nun at his 
  snatching of the datapad, Paul replies, "Marcus is a friend of mine here ... 
  Shen can wait here with him while I do some scouting and ... other things."
His gaze shifts to Shenner's, growing softer, regretful, but it doesn't change 
  his answer. "Yes.

Kuxli shakes his head once more as he plops himself back down onto the couch, 
  "So your doing this to... to protect her?"

There is a startled jerk to Paul's head, but a moment of reflection and an 
  assent of his head, he echos his previous reply. "Yes."

Shenner's gaze flicks to Kuxli as he speaks, then back to Paul as he replies. 
  The redhead doesn't utter a word as she slowly gets to her feet, but as she 
  turns slightly away from Paul to begin gathering the loose holodiscs 
  scattered around her, her expression cracks, her eyes beginning to brim with 
  anguish.

Kuxli flicks one of his ears, shifting in his seat as if uncomfortable. "Uh... 
  I think this is where I shutup and let you two sort it out.." he mumbles.

Hazel eyes regard Kuxli for a minute, and then with a heavy sigh, Paul rises, 
  walking over to Shen and placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'll be back 
  just as soon as I can," he assures her gently, not evening bringing up the 
  -other- little matter on Tatooine. "I know Marcus is something of a dull 
  pill at times, but he's a decent sort, really."

Avoiding Paul's eyes, Shenner says in a throaty rasp, "Ain't nothin' to sort 
  out, 'cept I ain't stayin' with Marcus." Holodiscs in her hands, she looks 
  down at the floor, angling her gaze down and away from the Corellian.

The hands tighten, fingers pressing into the muscles beneath the flesh a 
  little too hard. "What are you saying Shen?" he asks softly, tension 
  interweaving with his words.

"Paul, he looks at me like I'm a Wookiee who's just shaved off her fur, 
  painted herself pink, and proposed to him," Shenner answers, her tone 
  hoarse, dully resigned. "He wouldn't know what to do with me, I sure as hell 
  wouldn't know what to do with him, and I ain't gonna be a burden anymore."

Turning her easily in his grasp, Paul reaches with one hand to pull on her 
  chin, forcing her gaze to meet his own. "Hey, you are -not- a burden," he 
  intones firmly.

She does not resist Paul's hands, but as Shen looks up, her eyes have grown 
  wetter. "Then why're you askin' me to stay here?" she replies, oddly calmly.

Kuxli looks away politly, though if looked closely it could be noticed his 
  ears are turned towards the two.

That one's a little tougher, and not something Paul feels exactly comfortable 
  discussing, with or without company. "Because," he flails, "because part of 
  this doesn't involve you, and because it could be dangerous and I don't want 
  you to get .. hurt, and because, well because if I knew you were here safe, 
  it would make it easier for me ... it would give me a modicum of assurance, 
  not having all the eggs in one basket, so to speak."

Not bothering to point out that it was dangerous for her on Belsavis, it was 
  dangerous for her in Mos Eisley, and on Etti IV, and Palanhi, Shenner says, her 
  voice still hoarse but with her characteristic bluntness, "Mandalore don't 
  involve me, either."

"That's different," Paul counters, "We had an agreement. I made a promise."

_A promise you're breaking, now..._ Her bizarrely rational veneer beginning to 
  crumple, Shenner swallows hard, dropping her gaze even if her face is held 
  in the direction of Paul's. With an effort, she forces out, "I... ain't 
  seein' how goin' to Mandalore's any different than goin' to Tatooine, where 
  either place is liable to get me killed if I do anything stupid."

_I can't -force- her to stay here_ he realizes, _I mean I -could-, but that 
  would be the end of that. So, which is more important ... protecting her 
  life or protecting her from you?_ Letting out a harsh sigh, Paul releases 
  her chin, walking back to the table. He pulls the one chip out and slides 
  the other one back in. "Like I said, I was asking you a favor Shen," he 
  volleys back, ignoring her statement altogether, "If you insist on coming, 
  then you're coming." _I just don't have to -like- it_

Kuxli _I wonder what we'll have for dinner tonight_ he thinks to himself, 
  _Steak would be nice, but expensive..._ He turns his head slowly back to the 
  two, ears perking further up. "Sometimes I think it's more safe there then 
  on this station..." _One for me!_

Shenner's head lowers, her gaze falling to the holodiscs in her hands. "You 
  oughtta know by now I'd do anything in the galaxy for you, Paul Nighman," 
  she whispers. Determining that one of the disc cases is lying next to the 
  couch she'd been sitting on, she leans over and scarfs it up. Without 
  another word, she slips towards the captain's quarters.

Kuxli's furred head pans to slowly track Shenner, he frowns lightly. "G'night 
  Shen.."

With a muttered oath, Paul turns, following Shen and catching her by the arm. 
  "If you'll excuse us a moment Kuxli?" he calls out in a deceptively light 
  voice, and palming the doorway, he ushers Shen inside. "Be right back," he 
  calls as the door whooshes shut behind them.

Paul_Nighman has left.
Paul_Nighman enters into the Captain's quarters

Startled, Shen jerks a little as Paul intercepts her, and her head 
  involuntarily snaps up towards him as the Corellian escorts her into the 
  room.

Paul Nighman tries for calm. He tries for controlled. He tries for sweet 
  understanding. What he gets is nerves - lots of 'em. "Look," he rasps 
  uncertainly, spinning Shen about and holding her firmly by the upper arms. 
  "I'm not doing this to hurt you ... and I'm not trying to -make- you do 
  anything you don't want to ... well, obviously I am, but if it means that 
  much to you, then hell, yes, just stay, alright? Just don't, I mean, relax, 
  I'm not abandoning you or anything, okay? I'm just concerned ... worried 
  .... you know, I care about you ... naturally I want to protect you ...." 
  The ramble goes on unchecked for a moment, and then Paul just stops, leaning 
  forward and pressing his forehead to Shenner's own. "This is getting 
  harder," he admits reluctantly.

Shenner takes all this in, standing there gripped in Paul's big hands, not 
  knowing quite how to respond, not knowing whether she _should_. She 
  trembles, but strives to control it, and finally she breathes out simply, "I 
  know..." Which of his statements she responds to is unclear -- perhaps all 
  of them.

Lifting his head, he regards her steadily, then turns to sit down on the edge 
  of the bed, pulling out the datapad once again. "And then, if things weren't 
  complicated enough, there's this," he mutters, waving the device in his left 
  palm.

The girl's already troubled face twitches a little at those words. Leery of 
  what _more_ might be thrown at her this evening, she edges nearer to Paul, 
  reaching for the pad.

Paul allows her to pull it from his grasp, but upon looking at it, she finds 
  it to be unreadable - in some other language apparently, because the 
  flashing indicator at the time suggests that it's already been decoded from 
  it's encrypted format. The letters and characters, however, look strangely 
  familiar.

"I can't read this," Shenner observes softly.

"I know," Paul replies tiredly, reaching out a hand for the device again. "You 
  recognize the language though, don't you?"

"Mandalorian," answers the girl, handing the pad back.

"It is," he confirms, looking at the words that are now almost as familiar to 
  him as Corellian. "It's from Kairne ... you might remember him as Dane's 
  very quiet companion ... don't think I said more than two words to the man 
  myself." There is a deep sigh, and then he continues. "Essentially, what 
  this says is that the Empire, in taking over Tatooine, have decided to wipe 
  out the V'ez-Tcha ... they've taken Grathix and someone named J'Dan along 
  with others so far. He's asking me, practically begging me to come and help 
  him evacuate his people ... and therein lies the rub ... if the V'ez T'cha 
  cannot be trusted, why should I help. Then again, if the Empire is just 
  going to blatantly wipe these people out, how can I not ... especially when 
  perhaps a deal can be struck."

Again, Shen listens -- and when Paul reaches the words 'taken Grathix', she 
  flinches. She is silent as Paul continues, and until he finishes. Only when 
  he is done does she murmur, "And I can best help you if you know I'm outta 
  the way and safe." It's not quite a question, though her voice is very small 
  and unsure.

Shaking his head, Paul sighs, "That's not the point ... that's not why I told 
  you. If you were just going to stay here, I probably wouldn't have brought 
  it up, but if you're coming then you need to know what's going down."

Shen doesn't answer immediately. Still holding her stack of discs in one hand, 
  she stands there, her eyes pressing closed for a moment, her face crumpling 
  just slightly, an all too apparent reflection of an inner struggle to 
  maintain composure.

"Look," Paul clarifies, "I had no right pressuring you that way, using my 
  influence to -make- you feel like you have to stay behind. Okay? Bad Paul no 
  bisquit. You're an adult now, you make your own choices and your own 
  decisions, right?" His words are almost flippant, but his gaze is somber and 
  probing.

A thousand thoughts whirling through her head, each clamoring for her 
  attention and the opportunity to be sorted through and expressed, the young 
  musician grimaces at herself. At last she murmurs huskily, "I ain't sure 
  what to say here, Paul."

_That makes two of us_ Paul agrees. "Then say nothing ... wait for the ground 
  to stop spinning," he advices gently, staring down at the pad in his hand, 
  pondering when he will feel able to make a decision, to pen a response.

Shen draws in several long, slow breaths. Then, mostly in the direction of the 
  deck, she says, still with that hoarse edge to her voice, "If I have a 
  choice in the matter I choose to be with you, but not if I'm gonna get you 
  harmed or locked up or killed, 'cause I couldn't stand it if--" And she 
  abruptly cuts herself off, as her final few words come out of her 
  suspiciously wavery.

Reaching out a hand, Paul snags one of Shenner's, dragging her close. "Exactly 
  ... and it's the same for me ... if bringing you along gets you harmed or 
  locked up or killed, then it's -my- fault, and I couldn't stand that 
  either." Pulling her down to sit next to him on the bed, Paul rubs her 
  opposite arm. "It's kind of a Catch-22," he confesses, "We're damned if we 
  do and we're damned if we don't."

Clutching at the discs as though they'd become some form of talisman, Shen 
  lets her other hand be taken, lets herself be pulled over, lets herself sit. 
  She does not, however, let herself speak. But this resolve does not appear 
  to have made it to her eyes, for her gaze, full and liquid, rests on the 
  Corellian before her.

"You want to sleep on it ... let me know what you want to do in the morning?" 
  he murmurs, his gaze sliding over to hers finally and stopping there, 
  uncertain. He tries for a grin, but gets something closer to a sheepish 
  smile.

"I know what I wanna do," the redhead croaks without thinking, then frowns at 
  herself, a blush starting to darken her cheeks.

"Okay," he murmurs encouragingly, "that's a good place to start." Still half 
  wary, Paul watches the blush rise and asksa variation on an age old 
  question. "What do you want to do Shen?"

_That_ provokes another flurry of potential responses in her head, and 
  desperately, Shenner slams her eyes closed again, trying to sort out which 
  of them she should voice. She wants to stay, if it means that Paul can go 
  and do this thing with a clear head and a sharper eye and increase his 
  chances of survival. But she wants to go, because, the cold clench in her 
  gut informs her, she could not stand it if something happened to Paul -- and 
  she had to wait a whole month to find out, if she ever did. But could she 
  bear it any more if something _did_ happen, and it was her fault? Eyes still 
  clenched shut, she whispers, "I wanna be with you. N... no matter what."

_Make her stay,_ the rational part of his mind barks.  _It will be hard
  on her, but in the end, it will be for the best ... itll make for some
  distance between you - much needed distance if I dont miss my guess_  But
  another part of Paul remembers ironically his conversation with Ariana
  earlier .... _You have a -relationship- with this girl, woman, person.
  Maybe it's not love to you, but that in and of itself is important and not
  to be trifled with!_  Finally, it is a small hidden particle of his mind
  that asks the simple question, _What if your positions were reversed?  How
  would you feel then?_   Pulling Shenner into his lap, a  soft sigh
  feathers across her brow.  "Alright then, we take our chances and stick
  together, for better or worse, eh?"

As Shen's arms encircle Paul, the discs drop unnoticed out of her grasp, 
  clattering softly to the bed. She releases a shuddering sigh of her own, and 
  rests her head on his shoulder. Trying to sound as casual as possible, she 
  breathes out, "Thanks... it's just that... well, if anything happened to 
  you, nobody'd _tell_ me... and I wouldn't _know_... you know?"

A hand raises to stoke her hair in a light caress. "Yeah, that would stink," 
  he murmurs, a thread of humor weaseling it's way through his deadpan 
  tone.The other hand holds her to him in a easy grasp, rubbing soothingly 
  along the length of her arm. "Okay, so we're decided ... again."

Shen squeezes Paul briefly, and murmurs, trying for a lighter tone, "Sounds 
  like." She is shaking, just a bit, but she starts to sit up.

The circle of his arms is light, non-restraining. As she begins to shift, he 
  loosens his hold even further, his hands resting on her, hovering to see 
  where she is going. Paul turns his head to watch her features emerging from 
  the shelter of his shoulder.

She doesn't go far, simply sits up, her gaze lifting to Paul's. There's a 
  brief struggle in her expression, and then she begins awkwardly, earnestly, 
  "I know yah want what's best for me..."

A small tinge of rouge touches Paul's cheekbones, and his eyes drop from 
  Shen's and then return. _I don't even know what's best for me_ he chides 
  himself, _so how the hell can I decide what's best for you?_ "Well, it's 
  just that I have a tendency to run into trouble, and I don't see the point 
  in getting you all embroiled in it ... besides, I -know- how much you hate 
  Tatooine. I figured you'd be happy to miss a trip back there."

Shenner lifts a hand to Paul's cheek, and says gruffly, trying to smile, 
  "Guess I've gotten used to havin' you around, I mean, hey, you make my life 
  interesting, yah know?"

"Careful," Paul cautions lightly, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, 
  "I'm like a disease, easy to catch, hard to get rid of."

"Don't wanna," Shen murmurs, then immediately looks ever so slightly startled 
  at herself and tries to cover it with another lopsided smile.

The words give Paul no reassurance, but despite his misgivings, the rakish 
  Corellian in him cannot let the moment slip by without a word in edgewise. 
  Pulling her close to him, he rasps lowly, "A terminal case, huh?" as he 
  brushes her lips. "Maybe I should just put you out of your misery now, eh?"

For some reason this elicits a short little bark of a giggle out of the girl 
  -- an odd noise, not quite true laughter. But she willingly leans near, 
  murmuring huskily, "Yeah... guess you better..."

Capturing her lips again, Paul kisses Shen, leaning backward and pulling her 
  along with him. The discs bite into his back, but one casual swipe of his 
  arm sends them spinning and flying to the floor.

Shenner wraps her arms around Paul's neck, kissing him back soundly... and 
  almost desperately, with the force she puts into it.

His mouth seduces her lips, his hands stroke and soothe her frantic body, his 
  murmurs and soft encouragements reassure her nerves. Paul takes it slow and 
  steady, uncertain that this is any better answer than his previous ones, but 
  it seems to feed something needy inside of the redhead in his arms.

She is, indeed, consoled, and after that first desperate kiss, she seems 
  content to press herself tightly to him, her head once more nestling into 
  his shoulder, her arm draping along his chest.

Holding her steadfast against him, breathing a soft internal sigh of relief, 
  the befuddled Corellian continues to stroke her back gently, allowing his 
  eyes to close and his breathing to slow and ease.

Shen shifts her head a little and whispers, "Paul?"

His eyes remain shut, but his head turns toward Shen nonetheless. "Mmmmmm?"

"Can... I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure Shen," is his mellow reply. "What's on your mind now?"

Shenner whispers, "What... are we now? I mean... you and me?"

There is a slight jerk that runs through his frame, and Paul's eyes 
  practically pop open. Rolling over onto his side, he props himself up and 
  looks down into Shenner's face, her arm still pressing against his chest. 
  "What?"

"I guess I just..." Shenner abruptly blushes, and mumbles, "Sorry. It ain't 
  important..."

Staring at her long and hard, Paul shakes his head. "No, I just wasn't sure 
  what you were asking," he hedges uncertainly. "You just what?"

The girl blushes more vividly, and meets Paul's gaze with trepidation. When 
  she finally answers, it is with a shaky, "Kux... asked me... what we are. To 
  each other, I mean."

"And what did you tell him?" Paul queries, looking for cues from what is bound 
  to be her telling response.

Shen answers tinily, "That I'm workin' for yah... and you're my friend... and 
  I..." Her mouth crumples a little, suggesting that she's nibbling the inside 
  of her lower lip. Then she lets out a breathy sigh and finishes, "H-he 
  thought I hated you, see, I mean, I told him you were, uh, he knows about 
  how we met and all."

"Uh huh," Paul breathes calmly. "And now you're asking me ....?"

"What you think about..." the redhead answers. She pauses, then clarifies 
  awkwardly, "What we are. To... each other."
Shenner considers her own words, then lowers her gaze, sheepish, and mutters, 
  "You don't gotta answer that, if you don't wanna."

Lying back again and staring at the ceiling, Paul chews his lip thoughtfully. 
  _Alright, here it is, this is the part where you break her heart ya dope!_ 
  Taking a deep breath, he murmurs, "It's all a question of labels ... some 
  would consider us friends, some would consider us lovers. I guess I would 
  say that I consider us a bit of both .... you're my friend first and 
  foremost ... and we've had sex, which technically makes us lovers ... and 
  you're important to me obviously ...." but there is where it dangles off, 
  Paul letting his words pause and slow, wondering if that will be enough or 
  whether she is hoping for something more .... _Of -course- she wants 
  something more you idiot!_

If she does, though, Shen doesn't say; she simply smiles a little, crumpledly, 
  lopsidedly, as Paul finishes. And she says, "That's... about what I thought, 
  yeah..." Her gaze flickers off momentarily as she says this, though.

Paul's gaze, affixed to the ceiling, misses her expression, sensing in her 
  voice the desire for more ... the disappointment with what she's received, 
  and yet as he lies there he feels that he -can't- give her more than that. 
  The urge to release a frustrated sigh is transfered into a surge upward, as 
  Paul sits up. Reaching over, he takes off his boots and prepares to go to 
  bed.

"I mean... who needs labels anyway, huh? Bein' there for one another, that's 
  what counts..." Shen smiles a little more, her voice steadying.

Turning as he starts to unbutton the shirt, Paul's eyes burn into Shen's for a 
  moment. Reaching over, he palms the light, dimming it dramatically. "Right" 
  he murmurs huskily, his fingers working over the buttons of his shirt. "You 
  and me, we have a special relationship."

Shen's gaze is full, but she flashes forth another lopsided, brave sort of 
  smile. "Yeah," she answers back, just as husky of voice. "Just had to sort 
  it out in my head. You know."

Not trusting his voice to answer appropriately, Paul merely nods, stripping 
  the shirt from his shoulders. Slipping off the bed, he removes his belt and 
  works on his breeches.

Shenner sits up herself, and just as quietly begins to undress, her motions shy, 
  her gaze averted.

There is a brief hesitation toward the end, but realizing that any change in 
  pattern might suggest something is wrong, Paul shucks the rest of his 
  clothing and crawls into bed, taking the side nearest the wall. He watches 
  Shen through shuttered lids.

Shenner offers no more words, but simply undresses, down to her undergarments, 
  and crawls back into the bed.

"G'night Shen," Paul mumbles in a voice more drowsy than he is, his eyes still 
  intent upon her slim form as she settles in.

"'Night, Paul," she whispers back. Her eyes are firmly closed now, and she 
  nestles in close to the Corellian, hiding her face against his chest.

His arms slide easily about her small frame, and Paul rumbles contently, 
  holding her close. His eyes drift shut and he tries, very hard, not to think 
  about anything at all.

[End log.]