Log Date: 9/7/97, 9/8/97, 9/9/97 Log Cast: Paul Nighman, Shenneret Veery Log Intro: Matters have come to a head between Shenner and Paul on Kichnar Station. A date of dinner and dancing has led to, for Paul, an emotion he thought himself incapable of -- jealousy -- as he watches Shenner blushing and smiling at words whispered to her by another young man, Jase Millikin. And when Shenner tells Paul that what Jase has been telling her is that it is obvious she is smitten with _Paul_, the night turns wondrous for both of them, as Paul finds himself responding to Shenner in ways he's never done before... and Shenner finds herself awestruck at the changes in the Corellian. And the changes continue into the next morning.... ---------- Captain's Quarters Unlike the rest of the ship, this room is extremely cluttered with books, papers, computer equipment, and many artifacts and pieces of art from different cultures. In the corner stands a Viol, and a guitar rests in it's case not too far from it. The rest of the ship is clean and efficient looking, but this room is somehow cosier for all it's mess and confusion. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Paul_Nighman There is no sunlight streaming in from open windows, no birds chirping early morning music. There is no gentle breeze wafting through the room or rich scents of coffee and pastries burdgeoning the air. Still, Paul's eyes flutter open, knowing without even checking a chrono, that it is morning, and still fairly early on. He also knows with clarity of mind who is wrapped about his body and how she got to be there. This is no question about what happened last night. Lying perfectly still, Paul remembers the way that he burned, the way that he felt .... the fact that he was beginning to suspect that perhaps the unexpected, that the impossible was happening. Paul was beginning to believe that he was falling in love with Shen ... Nestled snugly into Paul's shoulder, his other gently covered by her hand, Shenner sleeps. Her hair isn't long enough to spill back very far from her face, but tousled waves of it nevertheless fall across her brow, soft against Paul's neck and cheek. The rhythm of her breathing is slow and peaceful. Paul has no desire to wake Shen ... but there is a strange desire to please her ... as she pleases him. With extreme care, he begins to slip from the bed, easing her gently away and going still at any small noise that might indicate her stirring. _This is insane ... I -can't- be in love with Shen ..._ but the idea that what he feels is just deep and abiding affection sounds ludicrous to the Corellian. With a motionless shake of his head, Paul decides impulsively to live in the -now- and see where it takes him. _No need to label anything ... you know how you feel_ Shen murmurs unintelligibly, but just once, as Paul untangles himself from her side. For a brief moment her brow crinkles in protest at the removal of warmth beside her, but as the man gets up, she snuggles down into the place where he had lain, as if to soak in his heat and scent in the bedclothes. There is a small lump in the man's throat as he stares down at the girl. Hunkering down next to the bed, he cannot help but brush a light kiss across her lips. _Seven Hells, I -am- falling in love with her_ he marvels, rising quickly and leaving the room, his mind awhirl with the implications of that contingency as well as what he is going to surprise Shen with for breakfast. After a time, Shenner begins to awaken, not quite sure what coaxes her up into awareness. Perhaps it's the slowly lessening warmth in the bed... or the lack of the lanky form that had been cuddled beside her. She doesn't open her eyes immediately, floating as she is in the hazy sensation of the body heat still retained by the sheet and blanket; as she half-drowses, her mind reminds her of what had happened the previous evening, and she floats in that memory, too. Only after some time has elapsed does she think to open her eyes, though, gradually more and more aware that Paul is not in the bed, and wondering where he is. Her question is magically answered by the Corellian's entrance back into the room, carrying a tray covered with breakfast foods. Seating himself on the bed next to Shen, there is a small quirk of disappointment in his eyes, as he was looking forward to waking her. Laying the tray beside her, he leans his body against hers, kissing her full soft lips and murmuring, "Hungry?" Shenner mrmmms in pleasant surprise, fully awake now, and as Paul pulls back from her she blurts, "Yeah... hi..." Staying close against her, Paul reaches over to pick up a fork, stabbing a piece of battal fried bread and dipping it in syrup and confectionary sugar before bringing it to Shen's rosebud mouth. The tray beside her has battal bread, juice, fruit salad, bacon, cocoa, and a single flower, made somewhat hastily out of some folded up paper, in a vase. Her eyes widening in awe, Shen breathes, "Wow...!" before smiling brightly up at Paul and nipping the fork's contents off its tines. She swallows the morsel down and adds, for good measure, "Wow...!" He can't help but laugh, rolling over to Shen's other side, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm about her waist, passing the fork to her free hand. Kissing a bared shoulder, he snuggles up close, relishing this new found emotion and realization. _It's like having a small cosy fire continuously burning in your belly ... like handing someone a gift that is all wrapped up, watching them opening it, and knowing that it will be something they will adore_ "Go on honey, eat up," he mumbles against her shoulder. "This is all _mine_?" Shen yelps in astonishment. She tries to figure out how to access the tray and look at Paul over her shoulder at the same time, a delicate operation, but one that makes her giggle softly. "Can't be all mine...!" "All yours," he assures her, content just to press up against her back, his hand tightening across her waist. Shenner stares at the tray and its contents in wonder, blowing out a small almost-laugh, charmed especially by the paper flower. "Paul, this is.... this is... wow!" She turns to hug him, carefully, so as not to overbalance the tray, before she starts sitting up to better reach the food. "Nothing," he finishes for her, hugging her delicate frame back with amusement. "You're making a big deal over nothing," he teases. But that's what she always does ... every little smile, glance, kind word or touch that he offers her is always met with instant delight. _Gods, is she ever easy on me_ he marvels yet again, watching her delve into the food with contentment. "You ain't never done _this_ before," she enthuses, indeed delving into the food, but turning happily every so often to share tidbits with him. Her gaze lingers on him, wonderingly, bright. "Eh, breakfast is just the other side of the dinner coin," he teases, "and I've certainly made you dinner before." Paul accepts the offers of food with pleasure, taking a bite, and every so often claiming her lips to savor the flavor of the sweet syrup and tangy fruit that colors the taste of her mouth. "This is different," Shenner murmurs happily, between munches of fried and besyruped bread and gulps of cocoa and juice. The Corellian has no idea why, but it delighted by her obvious pleasure. Pressing a kiss against her back, he murmurs, "Just so long as you're happy." Shen affirms, "I am...." She leans back against Paul, murmuring raptly, "Never been so happy!" Wrapping both arms about her waist and holding her close to his torso, pulling her into his lap, Paul presses another kiss against her throat. "Ditto." Shenner's eyes go warm and full. "I make you happy?" she murmurs up at the man holding her. Cradling Shen in his arms, Paul turns her head toward his own. His fingers hold her steady there, caressing the line of her throat and jaw, his mouth lowering to brush and cover her lips. "Very happy." Emotion surges through Shenner. Her expression glowing, she tenderly answers Paul's kiss, before pulling back enough to gaze at him ecstatically -- the look of someone who's just been told she is accomplishing the most important task in her life. "Good," she whispers. There is no need to ask the question in return, her luminous face responding in the affirmative. Hugging her close for a moment Paul just absorbs the feel of her against him, the easy companionship and intimacy. The night before had been perfect, but Shenner finds that this morning has started off very well towards giving it a run for its credits. Her entire face aglow, she indulges herself in finishing off the breakfast, luxuriating in the food as well as the company. She doesn't say much else... except a softly murmured, "Thank you....!" Dropping one last kiss upon the young girl's shoulders, Paul murmurs warmly, "You're welcome," before shifting from behind her. Rising from the bed he pulls on a robe and gathers up the tray. "I'm just going to drop off these dishes," he informs her, dropping a sweet long kiss on her lips, devouring them hungrily before pulling back with a wink. "Just be a minute," he assures her, picking up the tray and heading for the door. "Okay..." Her eyes shining, Shenner watches Paul get up, and says, "I think I'm gonna shower....!" A wicked thought crosses the Corellian's mind ... one that he normally wouldn't voice ... but today things are different. Giving Shen a seductive smile, he growls, "Wait for me and I'll join you," before disappearing out the door. "Paul!?" Shenner giggles after him, startled, but thrilled. In the _shower_? She clambers out of the bed, marvelling at this new evidence of Paul's mood this morning, and wondering what _else_ the man will be doing. _Water ... Soap .... Shen ....._ the three ideas play about in Paul's mind with tantalizing culminations and outcomes. There is still a niggling concern in the back of Paul's mind, Shen's youth and age being the main arguement against all of his actions to date. It isn't an issue he can ignore or pretend that it -doesn't- bother him or concern him. _The problem here is, the will -isn't- strong and the flesh is even weaker_ he considers with a flash of consternation. Placing the dishes into the sink he leans there for a moment. On the other hand, everything is suddenly quite different now. Paul tries to consider his life as it was, without Shenner being a part of his day to day existance. He can picture it ... see it ... but it -feels- wrong. Shoving away from the counter he heads back to their room with a determined step. _Gods only know what is to come ... I'm going to seize this life, this moment, this opportunity while I still have the universe's permission to do so ..._ The door slides obediently to Paul's palm signature and he enters the room. The girl is standing there waiting by the door to the refresher, wearing nothing, though she's clasping a towel before her and her face is slightly damp, as though she's just splashed water on it and was caught in the act of wiping it off. She flashes a shy smile at Paul as he draws near, and says huskily, "You, uh, sure we're both gonna fit in there?" Reaching past Shen, Paul triggers the shower. He was half expecting her to have already started without him. He tests the temperature for a moment before shrugging off the robe and tossing it to one side nonchalantly. Reaching down with one hand, he catches her palm up, raising it to his lips and placing and seductive kiss there, his tongue laving the center for a moment. "Let's test it and see" he rasps, entering under the spray and pulling her along. She issues a little squeal at the tugging, but doesn't resist, and as Shen finds herself standing under the swift spray of water in Paul's arms, she splutters and grins up at him. "You ain't never done _this_ before, either!" Closing the door behind her, Paul finds that the fit is better than usual. He isn't about to tell Shen that he has already tried this little experiment before. Rubbing the bar of soap into a thick lather between his hands, he puts it aside, placing his hands on Shen's high breasts and rubbing the lather into her skin, sliding down the length of her belly and sliding over her hips. "Well," he rumbles softly, "I don't want to play my cards all in one hand .... then you'd have nothing to look forward to," he explains carefully. Shenner, cat-curious, scarfs up some of that foam in her hands as well and trails her palms around to Paul's back. Her expression turns marvelling once more -- quite obviously at the sensation of what the Corellian feels like covered in water and soap. "There's more?" she teases, but only halfway, still in a pleasant sort of shock at how she's been awakened and how the morning has progressed so far. Nodding somberly, Paul wonders at the girl's restraint, feeling his body already reacting to her proximity and the feel of her sleek and wet and slippery beneath his hands. His hands range lower, testing her resistance to him with a bold touch. "Don't want to give away any surprises though," he warns her softly. Shen sucks in a breath, a wonderful little tremor rippling through her, and she experimentally slides her forearm along Paul's spine. "Dunno if you could surprise me any better this morning!" "Well, I don't want to spoil you too much," he murmurs cautiously, as if a he were a parent trying to decide whether he should let Shen have dessert before her dinner. Washing up is no longer the point as Paul continues to run soapy palms over Shen's figure, his arousal plain, his hands merciless. "Too much...? You already spoil me rotten!" the young redhead breathes, but utterly without complaint -- but rather, with palpable apprecation. Her eyes widen again, then shiver closed, her head arcing back under the spray in reaction to Paul's attentions. Her own hands course along his shoulderblades, before dropping downwards to more southerly places. And, trying to make sure she keeps her balance, she steps once in a way that slides her front against Paul's... and at _that_, she gasps a little and promptly tries it again. Paul's eyes shut, his head tilting back for a moment and he lets out a soft growl of approval and need, the brush of her breasts and torso against his robbing him of the last shreds of his control. _She's getting too good at this_ is his hungry thought as he pushes Shen against the back wall of the shower. Hard. Grinding himself against her persuasively, suggestively, Paul leaves little to the imagination, certainly not his intentions. With a breathless gasp, Shen clutches at Paul to keep from falling, her arms coming up to wrap tightly around his neck, her heart beginning to thud in her chest. She thinks wildly, _What's happened to him?_, but giddily yields to his unspoken persuasion, mimicking his motions and inventing her own with gleeful abandon. _What is it that she is doing to him?_ Paul wonders raggedly. Shen is wrapping herself about him, smothering him, enciting him. _When did she become so bold? So firey?_ His hands drop impulsively to her hips, not being able to stop himself now. He raises Shen up, keeping her back firmly to the wall for support, muttering darkly to her, "Wrap your legs around me." Thank goodness it's a fairly small shower ... no where really to go except up ... and down. The girl starts, but only for a moment, as she's lifted up and propped against that wall. Her legs reach round Paul's hips, and abruptly, she finds herself face to face with him; her features are beaded with water, tiny tendrils of red escaping the slicked-down mop her hair has become. Breathing a little hard, Paul's golden-green gaze locks to Shenner's, willing her to stay with him, to match him. The water pounds at his back, spraying over his shoulders and allowing rivulets of water to streak down his chest. As her limbs wrap about him there is a look of pure desire that crosses his face. His hands commanding her hips, Paul lowers Shen slowly to him, his eyes darkening furiously as he fills her, a soft strangled noise emiting from the base of his throat. He takes her there against the wall, unable to tear his eyes from her face, even as his mouth lowers to capture her's, his tongue possessing in tandem with his body. Forgetting to breathe, Shen clings tightly to Paul now, buoyed up between him and the wall, water shooting down along her arms. Her eyes close, as she is kissed, and she keeps sliding ever so slightly against him, utterly captivated by that particular sensation. The tension increases, the friction between them is as distracting to Paul as it is to Shen. His hands clutch at the girl reflexively, his brow dropping to her shoulder as he shudders violently in reaction. Bracing Shen against the wall for a little longer, Paul concentrates and catching his breath and steadying his hands. He gently slides Shen back down, returning to his senses and Shen to the solid ground. His hands remain wrapped about her in support, his mouth pressing a kiss to her shoulder and throat. "Damn, woman, you're going to be the death of me," he growls unsteadily against her neck. Shenner catches her own breath, half from the exertion, and half from how Paul is addressing her. Slightly wobble-legged, she clings to him still, and finally mumbles out in a hoarse giggle, "Can't kill yah... I-I dunno how to fly the ship...!" Reaching behind him, Paul shuts off the water and then leaning down, he picks up Shen in his arms, carrying her out of the shower and back into the bedroom. He snags a towel on his way out, and depositing the girl on the bed, he begins to dry her off with it tenderly. "You learn everything so fast ... pretty soon I'll be superfluous," he murmurs roughly, still spent, but with a tenderness of such intensity caught in his throat, he's surprised that words can make their way past it. It takes her a moment to remember what 'superfluous' means, but when she does, she breathes, "You're never gonna be superfluous...!" She reaches up to smooth damp hair back from Paul's brow. "Never... not to me..." His hands working over the length of her legs, rubbing them dry, he looks up from beneath the wet tangle that she pushes aside, his eyes unusually soft and tender. Raising gingerly to his knees, his own legs not all that steady, he leans against the side of the bed and reaches up, working on her hair, his face once again close to her own. _He looks different...!_ Deeply marvelling, feeling an echo within her of a debate she'd carried out with herself in Ms. Tsuma's inn on Corellia, Shen gazes longly at the man before her, trying to fathom the subtle transformation that's taken place in his eyes. Her hands cup his cheeks as she stares at him in amazement and pleasure. Shenner murmurs, "You need a towel, too..." "What?" Paul whispers, questioning her gaze rather than her words as she holds his face prisoner. His hands still on her hair, her eyes piercing him, as if trying to uncover something he had long thought hidden ... lost ... nonexistant. That green gaze flicks momentarily towards the refresher, but is back in a heartbeast to Paul's features. "You need a towel, you're drippin'," she begins, trying to explain, but she trails off into, "You... you look changed...!" These last words come out of her barely audible, and she swallows hard, looking nervous all of a sudden. Her words and her nervous gaze confuse Paul, who could care less if he's dripping wet. Leaning closer, the water trailing from his hair and over her hands, he whispers again, "Changed? Just 'cause I'm wet?" She shakes her head, opening her mouth and closing it again, trying to figure out what to say for a moment or two there, before finally answering, "No... you look... happy! You look so happy..." The thought that she has contributed to this makes another smile flare out across her face, and quite spontaneously she embraces him, uncaring that he's still quite damp. Clasping her to his cool damp flesh, Paul mumbles affectionately in her ear, "Ah, it's called afterglow honey," his lips curling in amusement at her vibrant energy and excitement. Shenner looks up again, grinning softly. "Never called me 'honey' before," she murmurs. That catches Paul by surprise, the endearment slipping without thought from his lips. Those hazel-green eyes go uncustomarily tender again and without thinking Paul leans forward mumuring soft endearments and punctuating them with light kisses. "Honey," and a kiss to her nose, "Sweet," and a kiss to her eyelids, "Darling," and a kiss to her lips .... Shen starts to giggle at 'honey', does actually giggle at 'sweet', but 'darling' makes her blink. _Darling?!_ She might not have read very many works of literature, but Shenner has seen more than enough holo-thrillers to know the circumstances under which _that_ word is typically uttered. She brushes an answering kiss across Paul's mouth, but when she pulls back, she's staring at him in wonder again. "This mean... I get to call you stuff?" she whispers. "You can call me anything you want," he informs her softly, smiling at her look of wonderment. "What, did I grow a second head?" _Watch it, Shen..._ Her throat catching around her words, the girl finds herself almost afraid to speak, as if the morning will pop and vanish around her like a soap bubble to the touch of her finger. She puts forth another shy crooked grin, though, shaking her own head at the gentle jibe, not bothering to point out that she's already got something to call Paul by in her thoughts. "I'll keep that in mind..." He considers for a moment longer before he gives a short nod, settling back on his haunches. Her hair is still damp, but the rest of her is dry now ... as is most of Paul's body as well. Taking up the towel that he had been working over her hair, he takes it to his own, scrubbing at it roughly, the terry covering his features and leans foward to do so. There's a soft laugh. Shen's hands grasp the towel, too, and rub it over Paul's hair, though one comes forward to lift up the towel so she can see his face. The Corellian looks almost boyish, hunkered down there on the ground before Shen, peering up at her curiously as she lifts the terry veil from his eyes. His hands drop and he settles himself more comfortably before her, allowing Shen to scrub at his head to her hearts content. Scrub she does, progressively more gentle, till all the water that can be coaxed out of the golden brown mop has been so. She drapes the towel down around his neck, holding it there, while she leans forward and rests her brow against the top of Paul's head, breathing in the clean scent of him. "Now what?" she murmurs, reluctant to let this rosy morning come to an end, but wondering what more could possibly happen. "Now what, what?" he counter-queries, uncertain all of the sudden of this new found intimacy as well as the point of Shenner's question. Is she asking him what is next in the daily events, thought Gods know this certainly wasn't planned ... or is she asking once again as to what this harbors for their relationship. Blinking a bit, clearly taken aback as the question is batted back at her, Shen draws back slightly from Paul, looking down into his eyes. A trifle sheepishly, and with a brief touch of returned nervousness, she answers, "I mean... what're we gonna do? Today, I mean..." Shrugging, the towel swaying a bit against his arms, Paul reminds her, "Well, I did bump into Dane ... and he seems eager to leave as soon as possible ... wants me to do the flying and catch a ride with us." He blows a breath of air upward. "Probably the best thing to do is ready the ship, make sure we have everything that we need, check with Dane on any supplies he would recommend. I'll probably pick up some camp gear and the like ... just in case. Other than that, sit tight, don't wander too far ... try to stay out of trouble?" he suggests. Shenner starts to nod, business-like, though her gaze still tenderly lingers on Paul's features. "I can do that," she says readily. Something crosses her mind that makes her grin lopsidedly and glance down for a moment, blushing, before she repeats hastily, "Yeah, I can do that... I mean... I can help..." Her sweet gaze and it's transparent nature only serve to bring Paul back into the moment. Rising up again he leans against the bed, wrapping his arms about her waist. "Okay, spill it," he charges her with a mischevious grin. "Nothin'," Shen says shyly, but she's still grinning that crooked little grin, and she keeps up her side of the embrace. "Oh no you don't," he catches, his hands tightening about her intently. "What were you thinking?" he presses. "That fiendish little grin ain't there for nothin'." Shenner protests, but without too much conviction, "We can't do this all day...!" Her gaze lifts to the Corellian, her eyes wide, a hint of a smile still playing about her mouth. And she pinkens. _So -that's- the lay of the land, eh? What does the girl think I am, a rabbit?_ he marvels. His hands lighten their grip, only to stray, dragging his calloused fingertips up along the length of her spine. "Is that a challenge?" he counters boldly, pressing his chest against her front and rubbing teasingly back and forth. Shenner gasps, laughing breathlessly a moment, before curling her arms behind Paul's neck and murmuring, "It's just... we ain't been like this before..." Her head leans to one side in the barest hint of a shrug. "I don't want it to stop yet...!" _What's a day?_ he rationalizes. _One day to just do whatever we want to do until the world intrudes and tells us otherwise?_ There are dozens of good reasons not to give in to temptation .... and Paul doesn't give a damn about any of them. "Alright then," he murmurs softly, clambering up next to her and pulling Shen back down to the sheets again, "it won't." Despite how this has started, or what Shen might think Paul meant, this was not about sex, but about intimacy. Paul starts off the day by just holding her close, his hands cruising over her form, not to seduce, but to explore. Not to enflame but to bring them closer. His fingers trace her features, massage her neck, delight in the satin of her skin and the silent communication between them. After awhile, he gets out of bed, but only to find some candles, which he places about the room, lighting them and dimming out the mains. Placing on some soft classical music, a woman's voice lilting in the background, her words unrecognizable, but with a wonderous rise and falling line. He returns to the bed, his motions are easy, relaxed, assured, despite the fact that all of this is startlingly new to him. He holds Shen close once again, breathing lightly against her neck as he cuddles her back against his chest. He rests their silently for a bit longer, commenting absently on the music, which he has always loved, and running a lazy hand up and down Shen's exposed arm, tickling gently. Pleasantly surprised yet again by the cozy half-light thrown off by the candles -- after two beats in which Shenner has a bit of difficulty actually realizing that those _are_ candles, and that she recognizes the function for which they are intended -- the girl happily snuggles against Paul, and while his curious hands do make her shiver, the mood change is as readily accepted as everything else she's experienced so far this day. Her own hands do not cruise over Paul nearly so much... if nothing else, because she's already visually and physically memorized him, and she won't speak of the context of that learning, not here. Happy to simply indulge in his contact, she lies beside him. And the music's being delivered in an unknown tongue does not stop the girl from harmonizing wordlessly with the singer and her melody line; Shen's own voice begins to rise and fall softly out of her, pausing every so often to answer Paul's commentary or make some of her own. They softly discuss this and that, Paul's low tenor playing a call and respond to Shenner's higher one. Discussion of the music leads to the fact that the songs are traditional Bedou ones ... ones that he grew quite familiar with as he traveled with the primitive people across their desert. That in turn leads to more about what he experienced on that trip, Shen asking surprisingly adroit questions about the dig site and ramifications of the find. It's an odd conversation, facts and information about xenoarcheaology, to have while lying in bed with your lover, but it falls naturally from Paul's lips, and Shen keeps up with the topic well, asking intelligent questions and making perceptive observations. Unseen behind her is the soft amused smile that curls Paul's lips as he considers the slight column of her neck, occasionally pressing a kiss there or to her shoulder. As their discussion returns to Tamis, Paul makes a comment about a book that he owns - one that is very old and biographical, that was written about one of the first explorers of that area. Then, on a spontaneous whim, he pulls the book out; a leather bound tome, filled with drawings, notes, pictures ... some obviously part of the book - made by the man in question, and some in Paul's hand. Leaning against the back wall with a candle near for light, Paul slips on his glasses and begins to read aloud to Shen. For him, this book made him who he is, regardless of his father's influence. Read when he was a child, it caught his interest and his imagination. Over the years as he grew older and more mature, it's underlying story caught his soul. His voice pours into the room like Corellian brandy, flowing smoothly into all of the corners as he reads the words like they were pieces of gold, the poetic and stunningly visual descriptions bringing to life the words with the aid of his expressive voice. Shen initially expects something like the Twi'lek-composed _Thieves of the Sacred Scrolls._ She is, however, surprised yet again... to have that surprise quickly fade, for while the Thane Grayson book, from what she'd seen of it, promises to be a riproaring read and she fully intends to devour it at her earliest opportunity, the story Paul reads her now seizes her, intrigues her, and begins to quietly captivate her, for more reasons simply than being offered forth in Paul's voice. _A thinking man's hero,_ she tells herself. What could be more apt, for Paul Nighman? She is struck with disappointment when after hours of this are wiled away, Paul's voice begins to roughen, and she immediately scrambles off to grab him something to drink to ease his throat, wrapping herself into a robe en route. Gratefully taking the offered glass as Shen returns to the bed, he drinks the cool soothing contents, taking a brief moments respite before continuing to read. The candles are burning lower, but still managing to sustain the soft flickering light. Paul has absolutely no idea of what time it is, and likes it that way just fine. However, the lull in their activity has given his stomach a chance to remind him that it's been long enough from the last time they've eaten. He suggests a break for lunch .... or is it now dinner? he teases the girl with a smile. He adds the firm note that she should not answer that question, as it isn't important. Awwwww! Well, she's willing to wait for the rest of the story, in honor of food, but she's anxious to hear more. On bare feet, her red mop rumpled and her green robe flapping about her frame, she scampers off into the kitchen, grinning to see if Paul follows, before she starts poking and rummaging around to see what can be gleaned out of newly purchased food stocks. The Corellian does indeed follow along, but murmurs softly against her spine, "Let's have a picnic," pulling out simple things like cheese, fruit, bread, wine, and the like before herding Shen back into the bedroom. From there it becomes a quiet time of feeding their bodies after they've been feeding their souls. Fingers are their utensils, and Paul offers Shen's strawberries, lifting them to her lips directly. There is something wonderous primative about the candles and the simple fare before them, reflecting some of the ideas and images from the book, especially one particular bedroom scene in exotic Barendesh, the city of the living, the flower of Tamis. The girl, all rumpled and shining-eyed in the candlelight, smiles vibrantly at her lover. A lopsided grin and more marvelling expressions are offered to the swapping of strawberries; clearly, Shen is floored to find herself indulging in such gestures, but far from reluctant. With a glass of wine in one hand and the other free to gently stroke Paul's chest, she snuggles up against him and urges him to continue the story. The food consumed, the mood perfect, and Shen pressed against his side. No urging is required, a smallest of requests from her would be granted in an instant at this point. With the pleasurable feel of her fingers tracing patterns against his flesh, Paul takes up the book again, just a little past half way through it, and once again begins to read in a voice full of renewed energy. It is here that the tale begins to take it's more tragic turns, the ever present shadow of war making a stand and steering the events to it's whims. The love, always forbidden, turning tragic; the lives, always lived to the fullest, moving now with desperation for fuel. Slowly, one by one, the candles begin to burn out as Paul's voice swirls about the room, velvet growls and murmurs complimenting the ever increasing darkness. Shen's eyes turn liquid as the story unfolds before her, and more than one she makes small noises of distress at the events of the tale. But not for anything would she move from Paul's side, his body warm against hers on the outside, the wine and food warm within her. To a young woman who dreamt of running off and joining the Rebellion, hearing how this conflict is presented brings war into her cognizance in a way that she'd never before realized, and it's a very quiet, intent Shenner who listens with every fiber of her being as Paul reads through the climax of the tale. The story is well known to Paul ... he's read the book in full at least four or five times ... sections of it too numerous to count. It still has the power to bring a pang to his chest - for both it's beauty and it's tragedy. Shen's sounds, while distressed, tell him that she too recognizes the brillance of the tale. Leaning the book against one thigh, his free arm and hand wrapped about the delicate girl's frame, Paul's voice continues to murmur out the end of the tale - the requested death ... and life ... of the anti-heroic protagonist, the bittersweet rebirth that his passing gives to his nurse. It is a story that ends in a strange sort of hopeful agony that so frequently is the reward for the survivors of war. As the tale climbs up and ever up to its conclusion, and as Paul's voice glides off into silence, there is no sound from the young redhead; no sound, but there is dampness, trickling down from her face and wetting the skin of Paul's neck. Her breathing has roughened, barely audible in the quiet room. The worn leather cover is shut, the book sliding with a soft thump to the bed's surface. His now free hand curls about Shen's face for a moment, testing the dampness there with questing gentle fingers before straying upward to trace lightly through her hair. He strokes her soothingly, saying nothing ... giving her the opportunity to absorb the impact of the piece in her own time. The rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his heart, the scent of his skin, are Shen's companions now along with the touch of his hand. And Shenneret Veery's first spoken response to the masterwork she has just been read, as under Paul's silent soft caresses her features quiver and threaten to crumple, is a tinily, plaintively murmured, "Crap!" A wry smile curls Paul's lips, but he is too somber to chuckle at the sniffled epitheth. It isn't the most eloquent of commentaries, but it is succinct and to the point ... and very very Shen. "Well, yes," rumbles a response from deep in Paul's chest, "that just about sums it up I'd say ..." The noise Shen issues then is more sniffle than giggle, though she tries to sound teasing as she scolds huskily, "Dammit, Paul, now I... I... ah, hells...." She burrows in tightly against the shoulder that pillows her head, her free arm squeezing the man to her, and the neck upon which she's been softly crying receives a new wash of tears. Caught unexpectedly by the fresh and fluid wash of tears upon his shoulder, Paul's face quirks in concern, his hand stroking her with greater gentleness, his arm catching her closer, cradling her against his side. "It's only a story Shen," he murmurs soothingly, knowing full well that it was based in fact and extremely well researched at that. Most of it was garnered from the man's journal, notes, and drawings ... which is not only reflected in the writing, but often quoted verbatim. "I kept seein' you," Shenner whispers, sounding abashed. The hand falters for a moment, taken aback by her confession, before continuing to stroke Shen's hair. "Oh?" is Paul's softly murmured surprised response, "... and -who- was I playing the part of?" he wonders, as there is more than one character, er, person, that he identifies with in this tale. There's a slight pause, perhaps in which Shenner swallows hard. "Some..." And she sniffles before she continues, "Some with the guy who, uh, defused the bombs, but mostly... the, uh, Count...." Nodding slowly, seeing both the connection between himself and Kip as well Rafe, he breathes against her cheek, "Well, he -was- my inspiration ... why do you think I went to Tamis in the first place? It was nearly as primitive when I went as when he was there," he recalls with wonder in the rememberance. His first true expedition, on his own ... which nearly ended in disaster. Shen nods into Paul's neck, even as she lifts a hand up to his cheek, beginning to trace the shape of his features with her fingertips. There's almost a desperation to her tiny brushings, as though she has decided that she must learn the terrain of his face all over again. There is a strange trill of alarm that breezes through Paul at the touch of her fingers. _She's -memorizing- me," he realizes, the strange almost omen-like qualities of the gesture unnerving him. He holds still though, allowing her fingers to photograph his features into their cellular recall. Her hand finally settles, cupping against the plane of his far cheek as she whispers, "'Msorry... bein' silly... 'sjust a story...." Shenner adds, lifting her head up, her eyes glimmering in the candlelight, "I just... anything ever happened to you, I'd just..." She can't finish the thought. Intimate as this day as been, it is almost too much for her to voice this deep admission, and she returns her face to the refuge of Paul's shoulder to prevent herself from having to do so. There is a hitch somewhere in his midriff, and with a wondering touch, Paul draws his knuckles down the side of one cheek, recalling that he once compared them to rose petals. "I don't think you're being silly," is his warm reply, the words rumbling out slowly, more felt than heard. The sense of foreshadowing has intensified with her little confession, and Paul breathes out uncertainly, "I know ... I feel the same ... about you." His gaze, almost liquid, considers the mop of hair beneath his chin, a twinge of worry and guilt chiseling at his heart. If a fate such as Kaerlyn's were to befall Shen ... because of what he did ... or failed to do .... Shen's thin form twitches once in Paul's grasp, and her arm immediately tightens around him. But her weight shifts over to that elbow as she brings herself up again, to wrap the other arm under his neck. Tears beginning to stream down her face in earnest, she begins to blanket the face her fingers have mapped out in kisses, saying only, in a hoarse little monosyllable, "Paul--" Capturing her face in his hands, Paul allows the girl's frantic kisses to rain on his face, that hitch rising upward to catch him sharply in the chest. Capturing her lips firmly with her own, he kisses Shen gently, with an easy and soothing touch. His hands movely slowly, surely, trying to calm her frantic distress at what he can only assume is her vivid imagination. After all, he is hearty and whole and holding her in his arms right now. "Easy Shen," he murmurs against her mouth, "It's okay ... I'm here ..." With her head lifted up, it can be seen when Shenner swallows, this time, a ripple that courses down the length of her throat. Her eyes press shut, and she breathes, "Don't stop... please?" Her request recalls their first time together ... only then she was clearly needy ... and scared. All that is evident now is the need, and it is edgy and sharp. Per usual, she could ask for anything and Paul would be helpless to refuse her. This time is no exception, save in regard to Paul's response. This time Paul sets out to make love to Shen ... to woo her body and delight her senses, to mold her form until she is as pliant in his arms as soft wax. His lovemaking is slow, when her hands and voice would urge him to hurry, deliberate when she begs him for more. Slowly but steadily he succeeds in his quest, as the girl begins to slide through a string of responses: teary and needful, to begin. Her tears kissed with exquisite tenderness off her face, she proceeds to feeling her throat go dry, and even then her hands try to course over Paul, mapping out the rest of him as she had done his face... as Rafe had done the deserts of Tamis. Her hands, kissed too, take on a tingle to the palms that demands of her that she continue to touch him, even as his mouth moves elsewhere. It's as if every part of her body were a temple. He worships first at her face, the tears kissed away, the lips blessed, her throat sacrificed. Her hands are next, his tongue laving her palms as if they were honey-sweet, his hands trailing lines of fire along her arms. Slowly he makes his way down her delicate body, exploring the curve of her breasts, the dip of her belly. His calloused fingers tease the flesh of her inner thighs, his lips pressing to the backs of her knees. Easing her legs apart, Paul captures Shen's restless hands, pressing them away from him, intent solely on pleasuring her. Shenner issues a whimper of protest, but only a tiny one, for by now, it's become extremely easy to yield herself over to the guidance of the Corellian's hands, to lose herself, to become simultaneously as passive... and as responsive... as Paul's guitar might be if he were drawing forth song from its strings. Much harder to do anything else--speak. Think. Breathe. There is only Paul, the touch of his hands and the brush of his lips. Her every whimper, no matter how small, impacts on Paul's nervous system, the rarity of them only intensifying their effect. His mouth, lips and hands continue to explore, tempt, and tease her most intimately, holding her captive for his attentions, set on driving yet more of those soft cries from her lips. His own body aches and burns with the denial of her touch, the refusal to take her. Still, for as long as he can, he will hold out, hoping to urge Shen farther and farther into a vortex of erotic and orgasmic sensations. If she cannot touch him yet, then at the very least, she dimly resolves, she will look at him. But opening her eyes requires a massive effort of thought even to separate out enough attention to lift her eyelids; it is like trying to scan for another physical object while in hyperspace. Somehow, dazedly, she opens her eyes, unaware of the effect of her dilated, near-black gaze on her features, her flushed cheeks, her softened and slightly parted mouth. He may have failed to coax her voice to speak her mind, but when Paul's gaze catches Shen's fevered one, it's as if a hammer of pure desire is slammed against him. Surging upward, he returns to her lips, fusing his own there in a passionate fiery kiss. Still, he wants the words ... needs them ... Pressing his lips to her throat, his palm to her heated core, he growls deeply, "Shen .... say it ...." even though he isn't even sure what he is looking for, what he wants from her. _Say it? Say what?_ Her mind and senses whirling, dominated by what Paul has called forth out of her flesh, the girl boggles a few brief instants over his growled command, trying to fathom what he seeks. But an answer flashes across her consciousness, prompted by an upswelling urge to give him something in return for the night, the morning, the day, the tale he has given her. Her mouth begins to move, soundlessly at first, but slowly more loudly, till a whispered litany can be heard falling from her lips: "Isa chaiya ke amor... isa chaiya..." _Corellian?!_ is Paul's first shock ... the meaning of the words his second .... _Isa chaiya ke amor ... I pledge to you my love ..._ If he thought those first pangs were sharp, it is nothing compared to the painful burst in his chest at the dazed realization. His mouth fuses once again to hers ... stealing her words, swallowing them. Gathering her up in his hands, tilting her pelvis to meet him, Paul surges forward once again, claiming Shen's body forcefully, allowing himself to cry out what he has been holding back all day long, his voice harsh and low, "Shen ....love!" There can be absolutely no doubt that she has heard. An incoherent, enraptured little whimper bursts out of her; her body, afire with heightened sensation, responds without any conscious volition, wrapping onto and around Paul as though she strives to meld them together into one creature. Moaning, Paul possesses Shen like a man driven, his hips entering into an age old rhythm. Her words still ricochet in his mind, his response echoing hers there as well. He opens his eyes, locking his gaze onto her face as he plunges with her up and over the edge, gritting his teeth against the surge of exquisite pleasure ravaging his body. "... chaiya ke..." Shenner's litany is cut off by sheer absence of breath, and her eyes clamp shut again as it becomes too great an effort to maintain her sense of sight in the face of all else. But Paul can see her expression nevertheless, the look of one completely transported outside her body. Only as the pair of them slump down together at last does she begin to return to it, with breath that comes in spiked little stabs, and eyes that open on a green gaze exhausted, dazed... and filled with shock. Paul's head is buried against Shen's shoulder and neck, his breathing hard and erratic, his skin slick with perspiration. His body shudders with the aftermath of their passion. He tries not to crush her with his weight, but he is unable to move off of her just yet, supporting himself as best as he can by leaning on his forearms to either side of the woman beneath him. _What have we done?_ he both marvels and despairs. [End log.]