Log Date:
	4/5, 4/6, 4/7/97

Log Cast:
	Shenner, Paul Nighman, Jessalyn

Log Intro:
	Anguished over the last day or two by her last encounter with Paul
Nighman, in which he strove to encourage her as gently as possible away
from the idea of being in love with him, Shenner has fled back to the NR's
spare barracks, and has flung herself into searching out something,
anything at all, to distract herself from her depression. Her first
distraction, though, turns out to be an eight-hour guitar marathon that
winds up leaving her hands blistered and bleeding; her second distraction
becomes a drinking binge with Tand.
	But Paul also startles Shenner by unexpectedly returning to the
Barracks. This time, both Paul's colleague Dr. Canto and Jessalyn have made
him decide to face the fact that he does indeed have friends... and that
he should stop running away from them. Deeply rattled by Paul's return,
Shenner struggles to remain casual as she remarks to Paul that she's
considering becoming a soldier. Paul feels an unexpected panic rising
within him at the idea of Shenner as a soldier... and upon encountering
General Calhoun, confronts him about the possibility that Shenner's
current choice of career pursuits may not be entirely rationally thought
out.
	Calhoun goes to confront Shenner about his encounter with Paul...
but with her self-esteem having taken a beating, the young bardling shies
away from Calhoun's suggestion that she play her music for the NR, and
instead tries to convince the General to let her be a soldier. Only Calhoun's
admission that he's fond of her -- which startles the kid -- makes her give
in to Calhoun's nudging to consider a posting under Jessalyn... or perhaps
as his aide. She promises to talk with Jessalyn, but has a hard time
locating her friend....

----------
NR Spare Barracks -- Calamari(#4222RnFJ)
Row upon row of meticulously made cots line in military precision down the 
  cold, off-white walls of this plain-looking room, each separated by a 
  barracks locker and side-table. This room is normally silent, the shadows 
  cast by the lights above harsh and stark against the bare floor. You can see 
  doorways leading off into private rooms and bathing rooms at the far end of 
  the hall.

Paul_Nighman arrives from the corridor.
Paul_Nighman has arrived.

Where could Jessalyn be? Shenner doesn't know, and after having poked about 
  the base tonight to try to find her, she now paces the barracks restlessly, 
  waiting for the woman to return. The kid eyes the floor as she walks back 
  and forth, one hand in her vest pocket, the other fidgeting with the slight 
  weight of the ocarina dangling from her neck.

Striding into the barracks at a fair clip comes Paul, his hair hanging in his 
  face as if touseled furiously by the wind. His face is ruddy and he is 
  definitely developing something of a tan these days. His eyes are bright 
  with exertion, but his face looks somber. His guitar is held to his body by 
  a strap, which is currently across his chest, leaving the guitar 
  conveniently strapped to his back and out of the way. He stops after 
  entering the barracks and looks around dazedly, as if not realizing where he 
  is.

As you enter, Shen comes around on another leg of her pacing, and pauses 
  there, halted, at the sight of you. As she sees _you_ stop, she blinks, then 
  plasters on a half-grin. "Hiya."

Paul blinks and looks over at hearing Shenner's voice and then grins at her. 
  "Hey there," he chirps at her. "How's it going?" He changes his trajectory 
  and now heads straight for the girl, the guitar whumping against his back 
  softly with each step.

Shenner shrugs, laconically. "Goin'," she answers amiably enough. Then her 
  expression shifts a little, as though that word affects her somehow, and she 
  adds, "Just been... makin' arrangements, tonight."

Paul reaches Shen and smiles at her warmly, as if she were especially pleasing 
  somehow. He reaches around to pull the guitar from his frame and asks idly, 
  "Arrangements? What kind of arrangements ... you meeting someone for dinner 
  or something?"

Shenner quirks an eyebrow at the guitar, in passing curiosity, even as she 
  says just as casually, "Talked with General Calhoun. 'Bout gettin' me in 
  with the NR, see."

Pulling the guitar free, Paul's face falls a little at the girl's words, and in 
  a slightly darker more suspicious tone he replies, "Oh? And what did you two 
  decide?" He holds the guitar in one hand by the neck, letting it dangle for 
  a moment.

Shenner keeps casual, not quite looking at the man with the guitar, as she 
  answers, "Well, the General don't think I oughtta get sent into danger." She 
  smirks; something about this seems to annoy her, but she doesn't comment 
  upon what. "So he thinks, maybe, I could be his aide, or get assigned to 
  work with Jessalyn. He's gotta go to Kashyyyk, though, says I oughtta come 
  with him and Luke if I wanna sign on, 'cause that's where his garrison's at."

Paul manages to look both relieved and annoyed at this news and sits down on 
  Shenner's bunk heavily, letting the guitar sit on his lap. "Well," he lets 
  out on a huff, "then I guess you've decided, haven't you?" He lifts his 
  fingers and begins to tune the guitar, which seems silly, as it sounds like 
  it is in perfect tune to begin with. He tightens the strings and then 
  releases them again to regain their previous pitch.

Shenner rolls her shoulders in another shrug. "I gotta do somethin'," she 
  notes, a slight stress on the last word. "Can't be mopin' around like a 
  snifflin' kid." Saying this, she looks off slightly, before smirking again 
  and adding, "Time to join the grownups. Grownups have jobs. And... well, 
  General Calhoun did offer me one, so."

Paul shrugs but doesn't look up from his fruitless task. "I thought you were 
  going to be a musician," he mutters. With a shrug he stops his retuning and 
  abruptly stands and turns toward his bunk growling softly, "Well that's nice 
  and I'm glad you feel like this is what you want ... but just a tip, being a 
  so called grownup ain't all it's cracked up to be."

Shenner doesn't look at you as you move off towards your own bunk; she simply 
  shrugs again, and eyes the floor as she mutters, "It'd be real damned dumb 
  of me to count on people fallin' all over themselves to hear me make music." 
  Her tone's a listless one, and as you abandon her bunk, she sits down on it 
  herself, moving to tug off her boots, as best as she can manage with her 
  bandaged hands.

Paul pauses for a sec and looks back at Shenner. "Well," he murmurs, "that 
  isn't the point ... the point is doing something that you love, the rest 
  falls into place after that," and then he turns and heads over to his bunk. 
  Seating himself there for a moment, he moves to put the guitar away and then 
  stops and pulls the instrument back into his lap and begins to play a piece 
  of music.
It isn't a piece that you've heard him play before, but it sounds more like 
  his style than the other stuff he tends to play. It's a very gently melodic 
  piece with a line that rises and falls like questions and answers, repeating 
  rhytmically. It has a strange quality to it - sweetly melancholy with a hint 
  of yearning in the soft high cries of the ringing strings. He watches his 
  hands carefully, as if unsure of the exact fingering.

The girl glances down your way, attention caught by the chords. As long as 
  you're not looking, she glances uneasily down at her hands, before scowling 
  to herself over them.
Shenner finally calls over, in a tone that suggests she'd rather be muttering 
  this but is aware that a mutter wouldn't carry down the room towards you, 
  "Ain't really been much up for music-makin' anyway. Eight-hour guitar 
  marathon'sll do that." Her eyes darkening, the kid lies down, placing her 
  head on her pillow.

Paul stops his playing at the timbre of the girls voice, feeling an unconcious 
  message being broadcast. Slowly rising Paul heads back over to Shen's bunk 
  and looks down at her, the guitar still held in his left hand by the neck. 
  He stands there a moment uncertain whether to press her for what is wrong or 
  try to make her feel better. Instead, what comes out of his mouth has 
  nothing to do with either thought. "Well, then how about we work on your 
  singing?" he offers as a solution.

The girl looks up at you, and says peevishly, "I _know_ how to sing, Paul..." 
  But there is, as she speaks, nevertheless a strangely contradictory 
  wistfulness in her eyes -- at least for a moment.

Paul chuckles and sits down on the bed next to her. "Well, maybe you do and 
  maybe you don't. Most people think they know how to sing and they sound 
  alright, but next thing you know, they can't sing a note ... ruin their 
  voices before they've even hit their peak." He smiles down at Shen's 
  obstinate face. "You're voice is an instrument, just as much as your guitar 
  is or your flute is ... if you don't play it properly, you won't get as much 
  out of it."

Shenner doesn't shift her posture where she lies, but she does look up at you 
  warily. "How the kark can you play a voice?"

Paul chuckles and sits back a bit, patting the bunk to indicate that you 
  should sit up next to him. "Well, you're voice is an instrument, but it's 
  made up of living tissues ... but you have a windbox and several different 
  reverberating chambers at your disposal, not to mention a built in pitch 
  modulator, an amplifier, and a tuner."

Shenner frowns at this, and, grudgingly, sits up... as far away as possible as 
  she can manage on the length of the bunk. "Huh?" she answers, brow 
  crinkling. "You sound like you're talkin' about a droid or somethin'...."

Chuckling again Paul moves so that he is kneeling on the floor in front of 
  Shenner. "Well, I was trying to put your body in terms of a musical 
  instrument. Here, I'll use the guitar to draw some parallels," he notes idly 
  and places the guitar next to Shen on the bed. "However," he notes, "first 
  things first. Just like any other wind instrument, your voice uses air to 
  make sounds, so how you breath in and release notes becomes extremely 
  important. I want you to take a breath in for me and then pick any note, 
  sing it, and hold it for as long as you can."

Shenner's face is still crinkled in bemusement, but she obeys you. Her stance 
  and expression suggest she's slightly torn as to whether she's just humoring 
  you... or genuinely interested. Or both. She sucks in a breath and lets it 
  out on a low C, which she begins to hold.

The note starts off a little flat and then comes up to pitch and holds for 
  awhile, fairly strong, but it quickly loses steam and ends after about 15 
  seconds or so. Paul nods, knowing where to start now and smiles at Shen. 
  "Okay, let's work on your breathing." Leaning forward he places his hands on 
  each of your shoulders and looks you in the eyes. "Now, when you breathe in, 
  your shoulders and chest rise. This means that you are using the muscles in 
  your chest to pull in air, and it makes your breath weak and unstable. You 
  need to breathe from your diaphragm."

Shenner flinches, ever so slightly, at your contact, and her gaze darts away 
  from yours even as she frowns and asks, "What the kark's a diaphragm?"

Paul withdraws his hands and chuckles again. "Right, guess we better start 
  there." With that he slips his left hand behind the middle of your back and 
  his right hand finds the side of your ribcage and then slides around so that 
  it is pressing against your sternum, just at the base, a little below your 
  breasts. He pushes gently against the muscle there. "That," he says as he 
  pushes, "is your diaphragm ... when you take in a breath that muscle flexes 
  downward," and he illustrates this by cupping his hand there palm up. "That 
  causes your lungs to drop down and air to fill them. When you exhale, it 
  flips," and he turns his hand so it is cupped with the palm down, "and 
  pushes the air out. Get it?"

Shenner swallows, and although you might not feel her pulse speed up through 
  your hands, it flutters at the base of her throat. Forced into sitting 
  straighter by your explanation -- and your touch -- she stiffens noticeably, 
  and gives you a too-rapid nod. It takes her a moment before she can manage 
  to say, gruffly, "Yeah. I... get it."

Paul removes his hands and grins at her. "Lie back down and don't move" he 
  says, a strange gleam coming into his eyes. "I'll be right back," and with 
  that he rises and dashes off toward his bunk.

Shenner gapes after Paul as he strides off, her face going actively white for 
  a moment. Lie _down_? Blank startlement keeps her sitting there, staring 
  after him.

Paul reaches his bunk and ducking low, pulls out one of his bags and starts 
  rummaging through it. He stops briefly to roll up his sleeves, which have 
  slipped, and then continues to paw through clothing and research. He looks 
  up briefly and seeing Shenner still upright he chides her, "Just put the 
  guitar on the floor and lie back ... and make yourself comfortable, I'll be 
  right there," and then he continues to rummage though his things, pulling 
  out a few books and stacking them on the bed as if getting them out of his 
  way.

Shenner blurts, "Why?"

He looks up again and raises his eyebrows, "I'm gonna help you understand what 
  it feels like," he replies, looking at the books for a moment and then 
  digging in the bag again. "Relax Shen," he says over his shoulder, "this 
  won't hurt," he teases lightly.

"What _what_ feels like?" the girl demands. "What do I gotta lie down for?"

Paul rises, adding another book to the stack and then picking them all up. As 
  he draws near he grins at her. "Just lie back and I'll show you."

Shenner's brow crinkles as she sees the books -- clearly, they perplex her. 
  But slowly, grudgingly, she sets the guitar on the floor and lies back as 
  requested.

Kneeling next to the bed again, Paul raises the stack of books and settles 
  them over her diapragm. "Okay, now I want you to breathe in and make the 
  books rise up with each intake of air, and descend with each exhale."

Green eyes wide, Shenner gapes again at this bizarre exercise, and stares at 
  Paul as if she can't quite decide whether the man's cracked. "How come?" she 
  asks, gruffly.

Paul chuckles. "Man, you are just all questions tonight. The reason we're 
  doing this is because it is hard to understand exactly how your diaphragm 
  works - you don't really feel it as much when you are sitting and standing 
  ... but this way you can feel the muscle moving, pressing against the books 
  and making them rise as you breath in. It's a good exercise to practice to 
  make sure that you are breathing from your diaphragm and not your chest. Now 
  try it," he coaxes her.

Shenner swallows, but finally nods, taking an experimental breath in. As she 
  does, she starts a little, instinctively reaches for the books as if 
  expecting them to fall over.

Paul touches the books lightly at her reach. "Don't worry, I won't let them 
  tip," he says, "just concentrate on the breathing - making those books rise 
  and fall."

The girl nods, dubiously, and lets her hands drop back. She eyes the books, 
  and starts carefully breathing, trying to see if she can lift the weight of 
  those tomes. "You and your books," she mutters.

"Well you know, you can dress me up but you can't take me out," he replies 
  idly, watching to books tentatively rise and fall.

Shenner scowls vaguely and mutters, very softly, something that might be 
  'Don't wanna dress you up.' Then, stoically, she focuses on the breathing 
  practice.

Paul watches the books rise and fall, somewhat erratically at first and then 
  stronger and stronger with each breath. "Okay, try taking a really deep 
  breath and make the books rises as much as you can and then let the breath 
  out slowly through your mouth ... can you feel it now?" he asks curiously.

This, too, is erratically done, but Shenner bobs her head at last, and 
  mumbles, "Yeah," when the books go as low as they can.

Sensing that perhaps Shen is finding this a tad boring, or maybe just weird, 
  Paul leans over and removes the weight of the books. "Okay, that was good, 
  now if you'll sit up we'll see what your range is ... or do you not want to 
  do this?" he asks tentatively.

Shenner replies with a wide -- but clearly nervous -- smile. "Nah, nah, it's 
  okay, I'm okay... I'm okay."

Paul gives her a tentative smile and offers an arm for her to pull herself up 
  with. "Okay, let's see what you got then."

Shenner, though, sits up without assistance, not looking at you as she does -- 
  so perhaps this is why she doesn't seem to notice the offered arm. "R-range 
  is like... how high I can sing, right?"

"And how low," Paul replies with a nod and reaches over for his guitar, 
  settling it in his lap as he sits of the floor in front of Shen, looking up 
  into her face. "Now I am going to play a series of scales and I want you to 
  sing along, note for note ... if it gets either too high or too low, I want 
  you to just stop singing, okay?"

"Yeah... sure. Sure thing," Shenner answers gamely enough. But she avoids your 
  gaze.

Frowning slightly at Shenner's reluctance to meet his gaze, Paul replies 
  uncertainly, "Well, okay here we go, and remember to draw deep breaths and 
  keep your shoulders down," and starts off with a scale in the middle range. 
  He continues to play upward scales, increment by increment and watching how 
  Shen sings. He waits till she either stops singing or starts obviously 
  straining her voice to reach the notes.

The kid's voice is steady and clear on the lower notes that you play; as you 
  go higher, though, after about an octave and a half, her voice becomes 
  slightly watery-sounding.

Paul stops playing and nods briefly, "Okay, and now in the other direction," 
  and he begins to play progressively lower and lower scales.

That gets you another steady octave. Not once does the kid look at you; in 
  fact, through most of the scales, she's closed her eyes.

Paul sets the guitar aside and pronounces, "Well, it looks like you're an 
  alto, with a strong lower range and a slightly weaker upper register, but we 
  can improve on that." He then looks at the girl for a moment and grins. "Ah, 
  you can open your eyes now," he teases, "the torture is over."

"What? Oh..." Shenner's eyes snap open, and she huhs. "Alto. Huh. Okay..."

Paul nods. "And a nice one at that - you've got good tonality. Now, I don't 
  want to throw a whole lot at you at once, so we'll just cover a couple more 
  things and then we can do more later if you still want to?" His face looks a 
  little concerned, as if he could sense that something wasn't quite right, 
  but couldn't pin point the cause.

Shenner nods back at Paul, a bit too briskly, a bit too rapidly. "Yeah... 
  sure. Sure thing. Now what?"

Paul sits back on his heels for a moment and then rises to his knees again, 
  which brings him a few inches closer. "Okay, well men's voices and women's 
  voice are pretty different. Men have a fairly flawless register until we 
  have to go into head voice, or falsetto, to reach really high notes. Women 
  have a funny breaking point in their voices where the change from chest 
  voice to head voice feels awkward and you'll have a desire to try to punch 
  though it or force your voice. Don't, cause you'll only ruin your voice if 
  you do that. So, what I want you to do is going to sound a little funny, but 
  when you sing low notes, think high, and when you think high notes I want 
  you to think low."

Shenner looks more or less at your shoulder, or perhaps at the wall past it. 
  Her brow crinkles again. "What's that supposed to mean?" she says.

Paul reaches forward and touching Shenner's throat lightly he replies, "When 
  you sing high notes, your layrnx actually physically drops," and his finger 
  slides down to illustrate that motion, "so if you think up for high notes, 
  you'll find that you are straining to reach them and you're thinking the 
  opposite of what your body is doing, so you are in a sense defeating 
  yourself. And for low notes, if you think too low, you'll go flat and 
  potentially force the note and strain your vocal chords.

At the touch to her throat, Shenner involuntarily swallows, and her voice 
  takes on a rougher edge as she blurts, "G-got it. You, uh, you want me to 
  try it now?"

Paul draws his hand away and nods. "Yeah, sure," he murmurs, not missing the 
  rush of her pulse under his fingertip. "And what will help you when you do 
  this is when you sing high notes either lower a hand or point down to the 
  ground, or even better, lower yourself to the ground ... and you'll be 
  surprised how much purer the pitch will be." He sets himself back a bit and 
  then hastily adds, "and the same for low notes ... point up or raise your 
  hand."

Shenner again nods, too rapidly, and points a hand to the ceiling, fastening 
  her eyes directly on her bandaged fingers. She sucks in a breath, and slowly 
  lets it free on a low G.
Shenner's hand, however, shakes ever so slightly where she has it lifted in 
  the air.

Paul frowns slightly and stands, taking the hand in his and pointing it firmly 
  up, "You got to want it," he urges softly, "now try that note again and see 
  if it sounds even more in tune."

Shenner flinches, for, in standing and taking her hand, you plant yourself 
  right in her line of sight. She tries the note again, but it, like her hand, 
  quavers.

Paul stops for a moment and frowns again. "Maybe I'm doing this all wrong," he 
  murmurs. "I should have done exercises first," and with that he hunkers down 
  in front of Shenner again and places his hands on her shoulders, idly 
  massaging them as he continues, "You can't sing well if you're not relaxed, 
  so there are a whole bunch of differnet exercises you can do to loosen up 
  your neck and shoulders," he notes, his hands moving to Shen's neck and 
  exploring the tension there. "Jeez Shen, no wonder you're having trouble, 
  you are so tense!" he notes in surprise and confusion.

Shenner yelps, "I'm fine!" When your hands touch her shoulders, you can find 
  that they are almost as stiff and unyielding as the floor; her neck, taut 
  and tight. She involuntarily jerks at your contact, looking actively 
  frightened, and fumbles at your hands with her bandaged ones, babbling on, 
  "I-I'm fine, really, it's just late and all, maybe I better get to sleep, 
  ain't been sleepin' too hot so I-I need all the sleep I can get!"

Paul lets Shenner's bandaged hands pull his away from her neck, but he takes 
  them in his own and draws them forward, placing them on her thighs and 
  covering them gently, patting them. "Hey, hey, it's alright, calm down," he 
  murmurs, his expression moving from confused to concerned to a touch guilty. 
  "It's okay, I didn't mean to push you or anything. I'm sorry Shen," he 
  mumbles sheepishly and then he withdraws his hands, but remains kneeling in 
  front of her.

Jessalyn arrives from the corridor.
Jessalyn has arrived.

Shenner, sitting there on her bunk, looks like nothing less than someone 
  trembling violently and trying very hard to pretend she isn't. She's 
  blushing, too, and her eyes have grown suspiciously liquid as she tries not 
  to look at Paul, who kneels contritely before her. "'Mfine," the kid 
  repeats, and again, as though she's trying to enforce the idea by 
  repetition. "'Mfine."

Jessalyn wanders wearily into the room, dark circles beneath her eyes, her 
  face even paler than usual. As the door closes behind her, she glances 
  around, hands balled into fists inside her trouser pockets, and she abruptly 
  frowns as she catches sight of Paul and Shenner -- especially when she notes 
  the girl's stricken expression.

Paul stays were he is, uncertain if he should comfort her or if that would 
  only make matters worse. He starts to reach for her arm and then stops 
  himself, his face growing grave as he takes in her trembling form. "Ah, 
  should I just give you some space, or do you need a hug?" he asks 
  tentatively.

Shenner's eyes slowly, but inexorably, tear over, and she opens her mouth to 
  speak. But the sound of the door -- and the sight of Jessalyn, when the kid 
  flicks a frightened glance in that direction -- cuts her off.
Shenner finally then gasps out, still refusing to meet Paul's gaze, "Sp... 
  space. Please. I-I need..."

"Should I... leave?" Jessa's exhausted voice asks, and she half-turns as if to 
  show she is sincere, and certainly not in any state to get involved in yet 
  another showdown between the two.

At the sign of Shenner's tears, Paul's face crumples a bit and he starts to 
  say, "Awww, Shen ..." but at the girls reaction he stops and says, "Space, 
  okay space," and he draws back carefully and then rises, looking back to 
  Jessalyn, his face fretful. "Ah no, we were just having a voice lessons is 
  all, but well, things got ...." and his voice trails off uncertainly.

Paul looks around then, "but I think that perhaps I shoud go out for a bit." 
  and starts to head over to his bunk to get his jacket.

Shenner mumbles, "I'm okay... I-I'm okay..." Then, awkwardly, she abruptly 
  turns on the bunk. Her bandaged hands grab at the pillow as she curls up 
  there, pressing her face into the pillow's side.

Jessalyn watches Paul curiously, then turns her worried eyes back toward 
  Shenner, asking a wordless question.

Turning around with jacket in hand Paul catches Jessalyn's face and gives her 
  a confused and pained expression, as if he didn't have any more clues than 
  she did. When he sees Shen curl up, he heads back to her bunk without 
  thinking, the worry on his face growing stronger until he stops impotently 
  at the bottomom of her bunk, torn as to what he should do.

Shenner huddles there on her bunk, not looking at either of the adults now, 
  with her face pressed into the pillow and turned towards the wall. Her 
  shoulders are shaking.

Jessalyn bends her head, lifting a hand to massage her temples. In a muted 
  voice, she murmurs, "Paul... c'mon. You've.. done enough..."

Paul just stands there for a minute ... knowing that he should just leave 
  because that is what she said she wanted, but knowing that he can't leave 
  now. He moves to go to Shenner's side, but Jessalyn's words cut him hard and 
  he stops. After a second, his face goes icily blank and grabbing his guitar 
  from the floor he nods without speaking and heads for the door.

Jessalyn looks up, catching Paul's arm as he approaches her in the doorway. 
  She draws him close to her and leans up to whisper quietly to him.

Paul stops as Jessalyn catches his arm, staring at her hard, his face eerily 
  blank. He frowns at her words starts to say something, but then his 
  shoulders droop slightly and looking back at Shen he winces and nods and 
  then turns for the door again.

Paul_Nighman has left.

Jessalyn has left.

[And less than a half hour later....]

Paul_Nighman arrives from the corridor.
Paul_Nighman has arrived.
Paul steps into the barracks softly, making little noise as he approaches 
  Shenner's bunk with deliberate intent in his step, and no small amount of 
  trepidation on his face.

Shenner is still curled up in much the same position as when you left her, her 
  arms wrapped tightly around her pillow, her head pointed at the wall. She 
  does not look up at the sound of the door sliding open, and at least from a 
  distance, it is not readily apparent whether she knows anyone has entered 
  the room.

Removing the guitar from around his torso, Paul places it on a nearby bunk and 
  comes over to stand next to Shen. Sitting down on her bunk he touches her 
  back gently and says, "Shen?"

You can hear her breath flutter; it is obvious that she is awake. Nevertheless 
  she does not lift her head, and it takes her a moment before she replies, 
  clearly trying for a casual tone but simply coming out gruff, "Yeah?"

Paul sits there for a moment and then says softly, "I have a proposal that I 
  would like to run past you."

A pause. Then, again: "Yeah?"

Paul lays his hand on her back again, stroking her gently and says, "If you 
  want to come with me to Mandalore, then I want you to come ... and if you 
  would rather go with Jessalyn to Yavin, then if you'd be willing to wait for 
  me, I'll come for you once I've finished my work," he whispers softly, his 
  voice warm and growly.

The girl immediately stiffens at the touch to her back. Her head lifts up a 
  little off the pillow as you speak, jerking up with almost painful 
  abruptness. "Wh-what? What did you say?"

Paul watches the girl's body jerk in shock and surprise. Expecting the reaction 
  helps some. He once again says, "I said, you can come with me to Mandalore 
  or you can wait for me on Yavin with Jessalyn, which ever you would prefer." 
  His voice is still soft and whispery, and he lays a hand on her shoulder.

Shenner's shoulder twitches when you touch it. She flips over on the bunk, 
  scrambling into sitting up, and backing ever so slightly away from you as 
  far as she can get on the bed. Her face has drained of color, and her eyes 
  have gone round, and she stares at you in utter disbelief. "No... no, I-I 
  can't be hearing this, you, you're just tryin' to make the blubbering kid 
  feel better, right?"

Paul leans forward and touches Shenner's face gently, his eyes skimming her 
  features, as if seeing them for the first time and his fingers trace along 
  the edge of her jaw. "No," he murmurs softly, "it's much more than that."

You can see the kid swallow convulsively, and she flails backwards with her 
  bandaged hands, perhaps desperately reaching for something to grab onto for 
  support. "Y-you ain't makin' sense, Paul, you g-go out and get drunk again 
  or somethin'? W-wh-what would I wanna go to Mandalore for?"

It's very hard for Paul to remain calm in the face of Shenner's panic, but he 
  needs her to understand that he is serious, so he shifts, placing himself in 
  front of her on the bunk and takes her hands carefully in his own. "Careful 
  there," he warns her gently. "I'm not drunk ... and I don't know of any 
  reason that you might want to go to Mandalore, which is why I also suggested 
  that you go with Jessalyn to Yavin if you'd prefer and I'd meet you there 
  afterward."

"Y-you still ain't makin' sense," Shenner raggedly blurts out. "Wh-what're you 
  askin' me this for?"

Paul stares into Shenner's eyes for awhile, studying the green carefully along 
  with his answer. Uncertain he can voice exactly what he wants to say to her, 
  Paul reaches out with one hand and cups her face again, his face dropping to 
  hers his eyes focusing on her eyes and then dropping to her lips. "I'm 
  suggesting that we give this a try after all," and with that he dips his 
  head, claiming her lips with his own in a sweetly shy kiss.

Shenner can be heard to draw in a sharp gasp of breath, before the kiss makes 
  it choke off in her throat. But she doesn't shove you away, nor does she shy 
  back -- probably because absolute shock keeps her rigid as you brush your
  mouth across hers. At least for two seconds. On the third, 
  she begins to tremble violently, even as she responds to the kiss.

Paul reaches with his left hand to rest it against Shenner's trembling frame, 
  stroking her soothingly as his right hand tilts her head gently and he 
  deepens the kiss, testing and tempting her lips with his own. Still, in 
  comparison to their previous kiss, this one is very restrained and tender.

Continuing to tremble, Shenner is kissed, and at least for a few moments, you 
  can feel her awkwardly try to respond... but she pulls back from you, 
  anguish and longing taking turns jumping into view through the tears in her 
  eyes. "Why..." And she swallows hard, though it doesn't keep her voice from 
  emerging in a tiny croak. "Why're you doin' this? Did... did I-I suddenly 
  turn eighteen when I wasn't lookin', or somethin'?"

Paul feels her yank out of his grasp and lets her go reluctantly. He watches 
  her struggle with the paradox in front of her and feels another stab of 
  shame rush through him and he realizes that he's been treating her emotions 
  like a yo-yo lately. But no more, he decides then and there, I've made a 
  decision and I'm going to stick with it. Taking both of her hands in his 
  again, Paul stares down at the poor bandaged things and sighs, cupping them 
  both easily between his two hands. "Shh-hh, Shen it's alright," he tries to 
  sooth her. "Nothing about you has changed ... it's me that's different."

_Now_, only now, is the girl allowing herself to look at you, and her features 
  are incredulous, bemused, and more than a little worried. "Wh-what happened 
  to not wantin' to hurt me 'cause I probably have" -- her nose wrinkles, and 
  her voice hoarsens slightly -- "a crush?"

Paul's gaze remains focused on the seemingly fragile hands in front of him, but 
  he also remembers that they had managed to deck him not once, not twice, but 
  three times. "Well, we never finished that conversation," he rumbles softly, 
  "and like I said before, maybe you have a crush and maybe you don't ... and 
  we won't know unless we explore this relationship ... and for your first 
  question, well, I think the damage has already been done, don't you?"

"You weren't... gonna ask me before about... bein'... with you, though," the 
  girl presses, uneasily, her voice small. Then, uncertainly, "Were yah?"

Paul's head remains bowed, his expression hidden by the hair fallen over his 
  brow. His mind races for an answer, panic rising in him as the possible 
  consequences of this actions here start flooding his mind. Still, a decision 
  has been made, and damnit if he wasn't going to be consistent for a change. 
  "I already invited you, remember?" he replies, recalling a conversation that 
  they had on the Black Dragon ... the recall of that almost makes him laugh, 
  as he thought things had been complicated -then-.

Shenner says awkwardly, after a pause in which she might have just swallowed 
  hard -- you can't tell without looking at her -- "That was before I-I kinda 
  got carried away...." Her voice, even smaller now, has lost none of its 
  incredulity, but ever so slightly is beginning to lose its worry.

"My feelings about you haven't changed since then," he notes, "just my 
  priorities." Then there is a pause and he continues, "Look Shen, if you 
  don't want this, then just tell me I'm wrong," he replies in a raspy voice. 
  "Tell me that you don't have a broken heart, that you don't want to go with 
  me, that I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, and I'll leave you 
  alone."

"I...." She trails off, barely able to breathe. That brief little word comes 
  out of her even more husky, and you can sense her hands shaking even with 
  the bandages over them.

Paul holds the hands and feels his own frame beginning to shake slightly as 
  his fears begin to rush over him, realizations taking side swipes along the 
  way. 'What am I doing?' he begins to panic. 'What if this doesn't work? 
  Isn't this exactly what you set out in the first place -not- to do?' He 
  bites his lip to keep from speaking his mind and waits instead for Shen to 
  finish her sentence, his hands holding her trembling hands and adding a 
  little of their own.

Shenner does not, however, speak. One of her hands lifts out of your hold, and 
  gingerly touches your face -- not exactly a deft touch, not with gauze 
  wrapped about her digits, but it's still light and tentative, as if she 
  doesn't believe you're really there and has to touch you to be sure.

The artless touch brings out a sharp burst of tenderness through all of the 
  massing confusion and Paul lifts a hand to hers, holding it against his face 
  in much the same way as he had with Jessalyn mere minutes before. His eyes 
  raise to meet hers tentatively. "I can't make you any promises that it's all 
  going to work out perfectly, we'll just have to see how it goes, alright?" 
  he whispers nervously.

Shenner's face still holds a measure of pain and tenseness, as though she 
  can't quite manage yet to relax. But her eyes have begun to lighten, and 
  something that might be a proto-smile flickers at one end of her mouth. She 
  still stares at you in an alarmed kind of wonder, though, and as you speak, 
  she bobs her head, once, slowly.

Shen's change of face seems to be the signal that Paul was waiting for, a 
  thrill of relief rushing through his system as he accomplishes his first 
  goal - to stop the heartache from tearing up the girl any more. He raises a 
  tentative hand to her face in return, his feathering touch shaking slightly. 
  "Okay," his voice rumbles richly, "just take it easy with me, huh? You know 
  what a push-over I am," he tries to tease her, but his eyes are hot and 
  serious.

Shenner issues a choked little giggle, her eyes still round, and never 
  wavering from your face.

Paul lets his hand trace over Shenner's features, comparing the difference 
  between all the other women he's touched this way. The largest difference is 
  the edgy feeling that he is experiencing - nervousness, and now that he 
  let's himself admit it, attraction. With Jessalyn, that attraction was easy, 
  comfortable. With Shen that attraction is sharp and dangerous, but the exact 
  reasons why are not defineable at the moment. He tries to relax and just 
  trust in the experiment and the experience.

Shenner yet trembles, reaction to the abrupt 180-degree spin the situation has 
  taken setting in, and setting in hard. She swallows again as you brush your 
  hand along her face, then quite abruptly flings herself at your chest and 
  hugs you fiercely, saying nothing, just shaking.

Paul tips back slightly at Shen's unexpected rush. He just sits for a moment, 
  astonished and uncertain. Another flare of panic rises in him at the 
  intensity of her need for him, and a countering surge of honor at doing the 
  right thing heads it off. As the two battle within him, he contents himself 
  with wrapping the trembling girl's form in his arms, his hands stroking her 
  back in broad soothing passes.

Evidently, though, that simple embrace is what Shenner needs. She buries her 
  face against your shoulder, and quivers hard, the tightened muscles of her 
  back twitching at the contact of your hands, but almost immediately, she 
  begins to calm.

Paul sighs deeply, releasing as much tension from his frame in that breath as 
  he can. He continues to gently stroke Shen's back, soothing her as much as 
  possible and then draws her gently to him, pulling her into his lap so that 
  she is more comfortable and easier to hold onto. He releases another deep 
  breath, as if he has to keep reminding himself to take in oxygen.

The girl leans against you, her shudders slowing, as she struggles to ease her 
  own breathing. "You mean it," she mumbles into the side of your neck, 
  sounding slightly dizzy all a sudden, as if knocked for a loop by your 
  sudden change of heart. "You mean it...."

Paul suddenly feels like a liar as he cradles Shen in his arms. Her 
  enthusiasm, her words, seem to him to be more like she was saying, "You love 
  me, you love me." He shudders in reaction, as her lips brush against his 
  neck with those words, and he closes his eyes tightly and holds onto her as 
  if she had become an anchor to cling to. For the first time in his memory, 
  Paul wishes that there was a god that he believed in ... so that he could 
  pray for guidance.

[End log.]