Log Date:
	4/29/97, 5/1/97

Log Cast:
	Shenner, Xavier Nighman, Paul Nighman

Log Intro:
	Shenner and her friend Paul have had, the previous night, a meeting
that shook both of them -- with Paul's father, Xavier Nighman, who has
proven to be a more than intimidating individual. Having been warned by
Paul that his father is not liable to look very kindly upon her, Shenner
has surprised herself by introducing herself to him as 'Shenneret Veery' --
her full name -- and only later, after she and Paul have retreated to the
refuge of Paul's old bedroom, does she realize that she must have blurted
out her fullname in an effort to make herself sound better to the brusque
old scholar. She has received a further surprise, however; a tiny robot
Paul had built for carbon-dating on dig sites has informed her that she
is now eighteen years old.
	The entire evening has been something of an equalizing experience
for Shenner and Paul, and she finds it strangely heartening for all that
Paul's father alarms her, heartening enough that she hates to send Paul
out to sleep in the living room. She doesn't know that his sleep is
restless, and that during the night, he calls Jessalyn on Yavin....

----------
It is not surprising that Shenner dreams of Paul... she is, after all, 
  sleeping in his bed, with his old childhood toy nestled in beside her. And 
  for a long while after she slips from sleeping into waking, she lies there 
  thinking of the room, looking up and around at it. Her green gaze drifts 
  from his old computer, to the droids scattered across the room, to the 
  trophies on one of the shelves... and up to his mother's holo, for a little 
  while. It occurs to her that for the first time, Paul seems somehow more 
  _real_ to her... but it also occurs to her that this isn't a bad thing.
After a time, Shenner rises, smiling crookedly at Sub and considering what to 
  do with it. Bedmaking is something of an alien art to the girl, but she 
  gives it a shot anyway, and gently rests the stuffed feline atop the pillow 
  when she's done. Then, at last, wrinkling her nose at her clothes -- she'd 
  slept in them again, and is not sure why, now -- Shen pauses long enough to 
  unbury something less rumpled from her carisak; once dressed, she bundles up 
  the clothes she'd just shucked and ventures out tentatively from the room, 
  thinking to find the refresher.

The bathroom door is to the girl's right, and the house seems eerily quiet 
  except for a few noises emiting from the area of the kitchen.

Shen frowns a bit, and peeks left, then right. Not seeing Paul, she ventures 
  into the bathroom, and after exploring that with the same sort of wariness 
  she might use on an alleyway in Mos Eisley, she takes some time to run her 
  clothing through the cleaning unit... and herself through water splashed on 
  her face, rubbed through her hair. Only with that accomplished, and her 
  cleaned-up clothes returned to the rest of her belongings in Paul's room, 
  does she feel brave enough to venture along to see if she can find Paul 
  himself. Out into the living room, then, and she calls her friend's name, 
  softly.

The couch where Paul was going to spend the night is empty and looks more like 
  someone was jumping on it rather than sleeping on it. On the table next to 
  it is a note that is folded in half and has Shen's name written on it in 
  Paul's hand. As she passed the kitchen, she might have caught a small amount 
  of movement there, and after she calls out Paul's name, a voice cuts out 
  from the kitchen in a bark. "He's not here."

Shenner pauses, frowning a little, then answers the gruff bark back, "Uh... 
  okay." She reaches for the note, a trifle concerned, but then again, there 
  _is_ a note...

Upon opening the note, Shenner finds it to be brief in the extreme. All it 
  says is, "Shen- Gone to visit Mom. -Paul" As she reads over the note, Dr. 
  Nighman, carrying a cup of coffee comes out from the kitchen and stares at 
  the kid's back. "So, what does it say?" he asks somewhat sharply.

Xavier Nighman
He looks absolutely nothing like Paul, other than the fact 
  that he is rather tall. Wearing glasses that reflect the outdoors light, his 
  eyes are not one of his visible features. Dark brown hair, cut short, 
  liberally greying at the temples and thinning at the top frame a stern face. 
  The planes are more chisled than carved - sharp and pointed - a long 
  aquiline nose, thick dark eyebrows, thin narrow lips, and high prominent 
  cheekbones are the most noticeable. He is dressed conservatively, in a suit 
  that looks almost like a uniform. What is more apparent about him than any 
  of these physical attributes is the aura that he presents. This is a man who 
  positively emits intelligence, intolerance, and intimidation.

Shenner turns around, still frowning, lifting her gaze up to Paul's tall 
  father. It takes her a moment before she can steady herself to answer 
  levelly, "It says 'Shen- Gone to visit Mom. -Paul.'" And after a moment, 
  grudgingly, she adds, "Sir."

Nodding as if her calling him sir was most appropriate, he walks over to his 
  desk, turning his back on the girl rather quickly. He says nothing for a 
  long time and when he finally turns around, his face is very composed 
  looking, as if he were wearing a mask. "Well, I suppose I have not been the 
  most gracious host," he intones in scholarly tones. He looks over the girl's 
  slight form. "Do you eat?"

Shenner tries _very_ hard not to snort, and manages to succeed, though her 
  mouth twists a bit as she replies neutrally, "Yes sir -- I eat." She 
  considers adding things like 'when I'm hungry' or 'when I actually have 
  food', but decides against it -- bothered by this man, she is not sure how 
  much she wishes to say to him.

He observes the girl minutely, as if she were a bug that he was preparing to 
  dissect. In another somewhat gruff tone he replies, "Well, I wasn't sure ... 
  you certainly are a slip of a girl." He heads to the kitchen and gestures to 
  her with one hand, as if expecting her to immediately come to heel. "Well, 
  then let's put some meat on your bones."

Of all the male authority figures Shenner has ever dealt with, Xavier Nighman 
  discomfits her in a way she can't quite define -- it's not the same as Dane 
  Noth's 'she must earn her respect', and it doesn't feel like her instinctive 
  'bluster them out' reaction that she's usually had to men of rank. Not 
  understanding what's going through her head, Shenner defaults to a wary 
  watch-and-see, and stalks after the scholar, murmuring, ".... thanks."

Pointing to a table and chairs, expecting her to obediently drop into one of 
  them, he doesn't even look at her as he opens up a food unit. "So, I suppose 
  the next question is -what- do you eat?" He then looks at the girl. "No 
  fancy cuisine here though, I'll warn you." He stands there waiting, and his 
  expression seems to indicate that every second of your time that you think 
  is a waste of his. Then again, maybe he just has indigestion.

"I ain -- I'm not picky, sir, food don't have to be fancy to be good," Shenner 
  says frankly, settling down into a chair as long as the doctor appears to 
  want her there.

That seems to earn her a point, as the face doesn't smile, but does seem to 
  lighten fractionally. "Good," he says, more like the question was a test, 
  before he turns back and pulls out two pre-fab meals and places them in a 
  re-heater. The following question is deceptively casual. "So, how did you 
  meet Xavier?"

Shenner's mouth purses, as she remembers the wrangling father and son had done 
  over the matter of names last night. It purses further, as she considers 
  exactly how much to tell this man of her history with Paul. At last, Shenner 
  allows herself to answer, "I had to get off my homeworld, sir, and he let me 
  buy passage on his ship."

"And what was the price?" he asks absently as he removes the heated food. He 
  almost brings it over as is, but then seems to recall that there are more 
  civilized ways and opens a drawer to remove actual dishes and doles the food 
  out onto the plates. His tone is all innocent curiosity, but there is a 
  sense that he is trying to infer something here.

Shenner says warily, "I had about fifty credits on me, but he took 'em anyway 
  'cause I promised to help him take care of the ship, and he taught me how."

The food is brought over, and although it doesn't look particularly amazing, 
  it does smell edible, even good, and it is hot. "And that was it?" he asks, 
  at touch suspiciously. "You didn't find that any further payment was 
  required, or is that what you're doing now, working off your debt?" Again, 
  it seems like he is probing methodically for something, but in a roundabout 
  way. He seats himself across from the girl and starts eating.

Shenner accepts the food, and settles to eating, though she eyes the elder 
  Nighman searchingly as she does so. "Short form of the story is, we kinda... 
  had a problem on Tatooine, and I didn't see him again until a coupla months 
  ago. Sir. But Paul don't seem too worried about me payin' him for the rest 
  of the passage price, if that's what you're askin'."

Her slang showing and her cut words are not lost on the scholar. He decides 
  that unless he wants to come right out and ask her if his son compromised 
  her, he isn't going to get a clear answer ... but her phrasing and her youth 
  makes him consider that perhaps his son was deliberately allowing him to 
  misunderstand the situation last night. "So, what does a smuggler need an 
  assistant for? Or is that just a glorified title for something else?"

Shenner's brows draw together over her green eyes, and Shenner lowers her fork 
  to reply shortly, "Paul's been hired to find an artifact, _sir_, and he's 
  teachin' me how to be helpful on the trip. He's already taught me about 
  first aid, and I'm gonna make him teach me a bit of languages next."

A short, "Huh," is his response to her claims, as if he almost didn't believe 
  her, or believed her to be mislead in respects to "finding" the artifact 
  rather than perhaps "obtaining" or "stealing" the artifact. Still, he makes 
  no comment on his suspicions. "Well, yes, he always had a talent for 
  languages," he admits grudgingly. He finishes with his dish and takes it to 
  a washer. "So, what is it that you do for a living then, since this is 
  obviously a temporary position. Are you a student?"

Shen frowns at that, poking for a moment at her own food before replying, "No 
  sir, I ain't." She prevents herself from having to elaborate by resuming 
  eating, then.

"I can see," he comments in conjunction with her slang. "Aren't you a little 
  young to be off on your own, doing -whatever- it is that you do?" The tone 
  isn't very approving, as if he were giving greater credence to his original 
  theory in regards to Paul and Shen's relationship.

Losing what was left of her appetite, Shenner lowers the fork, shoves the 
  plate away from her and looks Doctor Nighman square in the face. "I've been 
  on my own since I was nine years old, sir, and mostly, what I've been doin' 
  so far is _surviving_." She doesn't _say_ 'you got a problem with that?', 
  but it's clear enough in her expression. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

Completely unperturbed by her subtle retaliation, the older man reaches for 
  her plate. "I gather that you are finished?" refering both to her food and 
  her inappropriate attitude. His eyes gaze through the glasses, pinning her 
  with a look that has sent many an impertinent student scuttling back to 
  their desk, cowed.

"Yes, sir," and the 'sir' comes out more stiff than the rest of Shenner's 
  words, "I'm done." She doesn't scuttle, nor does she look cowed. Much. She 
  keeps her gaze up and steady, her features set, though she can't do anything 
  about the blush darkening her cheekbones. With deliberately concise motions, 
  she moves, getting up, and adding with brittle politeness, "Thank you for 
  the meal. I'll leave yah be now."

"You are not bothering me," he replies calmly. There is a conotation that 
  hints that he should finish that statement by adding, "you couldn't 
  possibly.", but there is also a softer quality, and unless you are very much 
  mistaken, there seems to be a hint of respect in his eyes. He takes your 
  dish and places it in the washer. "Feel free to stay if you like, read or 
  just explore the woods. If you want to find ...Paul ..." and he says the 
  name oddly, as if he were unused to using it, and found it difficult to do 
  so, "then you just want to follow the path all the way down to the end ... 
  he'll still be there I suspect."

Shenner considers that answer a moment, then Shenner eases off bristling, just 
  a little. "Thank you," she answers. "I'll... go find him. See if he's 
  alright... if he needs to be alone, or what." Not knowing what else to say, 
  the girl slips quietly out of the kitchen, thinking as she goes that perhaps 
  she should have asked the scholar whether he'd _know_ if Paul would want to 
  be alone... visiting his mother. His mother's final resting place? Shen 
  supposed so, though she knew little of such things. But on the other hand, 
  if what she'd seen last night was any indication.... _Maybe I know him 
  better than his own father._ It is a scary thought.
Finally, Shenner retrieves one of her flutes -- the silver one, in its black 
  carry-bag, and returns to the main part of the house, considering the best 
  way out to the path Xavier Nighman had mentioned.
Unwilling to face Xavier Nighman again so soon, though, Shenner finally steals 
  off out the front door, studying the surrounding grounds as she goes.

Not too far from the door is Paul's stuff, which is still in the same place 
  that is was last night, the only difference being that the guitar case is 
  now open and the guitar missing. Outside the door it is a pleasant day, 
  quite early in the morning still, and the birds are having a festival of 
  some kind, chirping up a storm and chasing playfully from tree to tree. In 
  the daylight, the yard looks much nicer. What appeared by night to just be 
  unkempt tall grass, is in fact a vast array of wildflowers that look a 
  little too cultivated to be just growing in such close proximity to one 
  another to be an accident. The path Paul's father mentioned must be the one 
  that you came in on, because no other road is in sight.

Shenner sighs softly to herself, and smiles a little; this portion of 
  Corellia, at any rate, seems nice enough... and to actually be _close_ to 
  trees, to be near grass she can tread on without fear of recrimination as 
  had been the case on Etti IV, is enough of a wonder that she pauses every so 
  often just to _look_. But eventually she heads further on down the path, 
  cocking her ears for any sound of music... and keeping an eye out for any 
  visual sign of Paul.

The path winds on and on for awhile, passing by trees and bushes in riotous 
  spring bloom. Small mammals dart about in surprise at her intrusion on their 
  otherwise peaceful world. Eventually she reaches a small elegant little 
  bridge that fords a river running through the area. Visible on the other 
  side and little farther down is a wide open clearing, with headstones 
  popping up from the ground, looking like white flowers against a green field 
  from this distance. Echoing through the air, you -think- but cannot be 
  certain that you hear music.

It had not occurred to her that Corellia could be _beautiful_, but Shenner 
  finds now that it is -- and this portion in a way different than the beach 
  had been. Awed, she pauses on the bridge, listening to the babble of the 
  river beneath it... then straining again to see if she can catch the distant 
  music.

The sounds are very faint, and it is hard to determine exactly what they are 
  .. but if they are anything at all, they seem to be coming from the 
  direction of the graveyard.

Shen steps off the bridge, unsure whether she should intrude on Paul... would 
  he prefer to be alone with his memories of his mother, she wonders? She 
  continues along the path as best she can, though she takes it slow, not 
  wanting to startle him should she come upon him unexpectedly, and hoping to 
  spy him before he sees her.

The closer she draws, the more clearly she can hear music, which is still 
  somewhat indistinct, but recognizable as music ... even as a guitar playing. 
  As she nears the field of stones, Paul is nowhere in sight, but the field 
  does roll some, and it is possible that he could be hidden by one of the 
  stones themselves ... 'thou if the music is any indication, the musician is 
  still a ways off. Unlike the forest, the graveyard is quiet - not in the 
  eerie way that the house was, but almost as if the nature all around it was 
  holding it's voice silent out of respect.

_What _is_ this place?_ Shenner stares at it for some time, realizing 
  bemusedly that this is the first burial yard she's ever seen. Her gaze 
  tracks across stones lettered in both Basic and Corellian, and her tread 
  slows down as she makes her way onward, as she finds herself uncertain 
  whether she'll disturb more than Paul by walking here. But she inches along 
  her course nonetheless, looking for the music's source... or at the least, a 
  place where she can stop to hear it clearly.
 
The music stops for a moment, and Shenner loses the direction and the ensuing 
  silence. Then it starts again, a new piece of music. This one is a bright 
  piece of music, bold and daring like sunlight, sweet and lilting like the 
  breeze. A voice lifts up in song as well, clear and strong and definitely 
  Paul's voice. The lyrics are a little higher than his usual range, giving 
  his voice a yearning quality. He sings defiantly, as if challenging the 
  silence of the stones with his voice of life. She is now close enough, or 
  Paul sings brazenly enough, that she can make out the words, which seem to 
  drift from just over the rise ahead of her.

        He looked beneath his shirt today
        here was a wound in his flesh so deep and wide
        From the wound a lovely flower grew
        From somewhere deep inside
        He turned around to face his mother
        To show her the wound in his breast that burned like a brand
        But the sword that cut him open
        Was the sword in his mother's hand

	Every day another miracle
	Only death will tear us apart
	To sacrifice a life for yours
	I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart
	The blood of the Lazarus heart

That's what she wanted to hear. Shenner sits down quietly on the grass, 
  slipping her silver flute forth from its carry-bag, then lifting the flute 
  to her mouth. She warms it up with a few silent breaths; then, carefully, 
  softly, she slips the flute's voice in under the sung words and the chords 
  from the guitar. The new notes, for all their softness, are sweet and 
  achingly clear, especially here, in this pure, clean air.

If Paul hears the sweet cry of her flute, he either doesn't acknowledge it or 
  doesn't mind. The song continues on, and his voice continues to rise in 
  tribute, challenging death on it's field of victory.

	Though the sword was his protection
	The wound itself would give him power
	The power to remake himself
	At the time of his darkest hour
	She said the wound would give him courage and pain
	The kind of pain that you can't hide
	From the wound a lovely flower grew
	From somewhwere deep inside

	Every day another miracle
	Only death will keep us apart
	To sacrifice a life for yours
	I'd be the blood of the Lazarus heart
	The blood of the Lazarus heart.

The guitar continues on as his voice lets the final note ring out for a brief 
  moment before finishing, the guitar fading off slowly to its natural 
  conclusion.

The silver flute, throughout the song, simply holds long, soft notes, 
  occcasionally rising where the melody drops, dropping where the main line of 
  the song rises, in harmony. And the descant is oddly buoying, for all that 
  it floats ethereally _above_ the lower register put out by the guitar... and 
  the voice.
Shenner finally softens the flute into silence as well, and waits, patiently.

She doesn't have to wait long, as after only a few minutes Paul comes 
  trudging up from the other side of the rise. As he draws closer it is 
  evident that he isn't in the best of shape. He looks exhausted, his clothes 
  rumpled and creased, and there are still lines and shadows about his eyes 
  and his mouth. Still, there is a strange look of relief, or perhaps release, 
  gleaming in his eyes, as if he had just gone through a very cathartic and 
  healing experience - enervating but enriching.

The girl looks up, quietly, from where she sits.

Paul draws up next to Shen and just stands there for a moment, weaving ever 
  so slightly. His pants are covered with dirt and grass stains, as are his 
  hands. The guitar is slung across his back and his clothes and hair are damp 
  from the dew that settled on him at dawn. He doesn't seem at all surprised 
  to see Shen, but he doesn't say anything to her either as he looks down at 
  her with weary hazel eyes.

Shenner rises, shifting her flute to her left hand. Yesterday, she might 
  simply have asked him how he was, but after what occurred this past night, 
  Shenner steps to Paul, loops her arms around him -- carefully, so as not to 
  bang the instruments -- and hugs him.

Accepting her hug without resistance, Shen finds that her arms can easily wrap 
  around him, slipping under the loosely hanging guitar. He smells strongly of 
  grass and trees, dirt and rain, and of, well, Paul. He gently wraps his arms 
  around Shenner as well, still saying nothing, not resisting her embrace, but 
  gratefully welcoming it.

Unwilling to disturb this companiable silence by speaking, Shenner just waits 
  for a right moment to say something... though she does eventually look up, 
  green-as-grass regard resting lightly on Paul, taking in his rumpled 
  appearance without giving any sign that it is anything other than perfectly 
  ordinary.

Taking in her green gaze, Paul smiles slightly, just the corners of his mouth 
  lifting up. He studies her features carefully, as if weighing them in his 
  mind, judging them, and storing them in his memory. He still doesn't say 
  anything, but it doesn't seem to be so much that he is savoring the silence 
  as having nothing really to say. He is obviously thinking a great deal as he 
  stands and absorbs Shen's presence.

Shenner at last murmurs softly, "I wanted to see if you were okay... "

He raises a hand to trace the line of her cheek fondly. "Thanks ... seems like 
  I'm nothing but trouble," he murmurs in a voice warm with catharsis.

"It wasn't any trouble, pal," Shen whispers back. "Found your note... so, 
  well, I kinda figured you were okay... but I had to come see... you know?" A 
  smile tugs at the end of her mouth closest to Paul's hand.

"You have a very generous heart Shen," he replies softly, his hand still 
  tracing upon her cheek, light as a fluttering moth. "I'm tired," he adds, 
  "but I'm okay."

Shenner's cheek, traced upon, quivers delicately in reaction, even as the girl 
  smiles a little more, and just nods. "D'you wanna go get some rest?"

"I'd like to," he admits, "but I don't know if I'll have the time to." He 
  starts to head away from the stones and doesn't look back.

The girl falls into step beside her friend, walking as carefully as she can 
  manage on this grassy turf while still keeping up with him. "Can I do 
  anything to help?"

Paul's stride may be long, but he walks slowly, as if still in a very 
  different place than the real world. Maybe it is the exhaustion, perhaps 
  meditation or just deep thought, or maybe it is something more strange and 
  mystical ... it's hard to say. "Let's get back to the house ... see if the 
  lord has left us a time that would be acceptable to drop by the University, 
  and we'll go from there." As he walks, his eyes slowly scan about the 
  landscape.

Shenner murmurs an assent, and simply ambles along beside her friend, not 
  pressing him, and trying to hide the glances she steals at him sidelong; 
  this is a new Paul, and she is not entirely sure what to make of him. But as 
  she accompanies him back along the path, her flute returned to its carrybag 
  now and dangling off her shoulder once more, she smiles a little to herself, 
  not entirely surprised at the change... she's felt transformed, too.

He walks calmly along the path, not saying anything more, and seems content to 
  just absorb their surroundings by osmosis. After awhile they reach the 
  house, and he opens the door with nary a flinch. Fortunately, all is quiet 
  and the house seems abandoned. There is a note on the couch, which has been 
  straightened since this morning. It has the initials, "X.P.N" on it, and 
  Paul leans over calmly to pick the envelope up and open it. His eyes scan 
  the page and with a nod he lets the paper flutter from his fingers and 
  lowers himself gingerly to the couch.

Shenner lingers, far enough away that she doesn't see the note from Paul's 
  father, and she does not ask what it says. She ventures, "Why doncha snooze 
  a little?"

Gesturing his head at the note, Paul removes the guitar and sets it down 
  against the couch. "We're not expected till this afternoon," he mumurs and 
  he does indeed stretch himself out on the couch, pulling the pillow against 
  himself in a hug and laying his head on it wearily. He sighs then and his 
  eyes flutter open and shut a few times.

Shenner murmurs, "Okay," and nothing more. She considers, then steps to the 
  couch and crouches beside it. As if it grows easier with practice, she lifts 
  a hand to smooth Paul's hair back from his brow, and she advises gently, "Go 
  to sleep, Paul."

Shen's request is much easier to obey than Jessalyn's, even though they are 
  identical. Paul stops trying to keep his eyes open and lets them flutter 
  shut and stay there. He rolls over slightly onto his side, letting his head 
  sink into the large pillow that his arms are wrapped about. "Sorry Shen," he 
  manages to slur out slightly.

The girl chuckles, very softly. "For what, bein' tired?" As she speaks, she 
  pauses, though, caught on an impulse... to which she yields. Shen leans 
  forward and, greatly daring, drops a very light kiss on the very top of 
  Paul's head, where she can reach. "Sleep. I ain't goin' nowhere."

Only a soft "mmmm" manages to escape Paul this time, already half asleep. He 
  goes completely still after only a few moments and stays that way.

Shenner watches him drowse off, smiling a bit to herself; at last, she rises, 
  casting a glance about the once more completely silent house. What to do, 
  while Paul sleeps? Xavier Nighman had told her she could read -- not 
  difficult, with the profusion of books in this place -- though it occurs to 
  her that most of the books she can see on the shelves and other pieces of 
  furniture about her would probably go right over her head. But another 
  glance at the sleeping man makes Shenner's mind up for her; with that, she 
  begins a thorough, careful search, trying to disturb as few of the books as 
  possible, until she finds a text in Basic entitled, simply, _Fundamentals of 
  Archaeology_. This in hand, she pads back to the couch, settles down on the 
  floor before it... and begins to read.

[And later....]

It has been several hours since Paul practially passed out on the couch. Not 
  like he would know that, but it is fact of time, not knowledge. What awakens 
  him is the sun streaming in through the window, which has been illuminating 
  his form for some time now. At first, his reaction to the light was akin to 
  a cat's - a small stretch, rolling over to settle himself fully in the 
  beam's light, and a small contented noise. However, after awhile of snoozing 
  in the sun, the trajectory shifts until it gradually is beaming across his 
  eyes. This finally causes him to stretch and open his eyes sleepily, 
  flickering them briefly against the light.

The house has continued in its peaceful silence; the room in which Paul has 
  rested, too, is quiet, save for a low, anxious, under-the-breath muttering, 
  and the occasional sound of a page being flipped.

Paul rolls slightly, his eyes shifting about the room curiously. The urge to 
  just drift off again is powerful, but the angle of the sun hints to him that 
  it is getting close to afternoon, and his appointment. It considers the 
  venture with both excitement and trepidation. It means looking through 
  artifacts and information that might completely upset the historical 
  knowledge of Mandalore. It also means dealing with his father again. He 
  finally focuses on the murmuring voice and blinks in surprise as he sees 
  Shen. It isn't the girl that surprises him, it's what she's doing.

Shenner sits on the floor, surrounded by not one, not two, but several 
  textbooks, gleaned from assorted shelves around the room... and one or two 
  that can be recognized as having been fetched out of Paul's own bedroom. Her 
  face scrunched up into a scowl of concentration, the girl is currently 
  staring down at the pages of _Fundamentals of Archaeology_; her face is 
  akindle with a strange mix of sentiments, annoyance, confusion, and utter 
  fascination.

Propping himself up on one arm, Paul studies the girl as intently as she 
  studies the books. He grins, totally charmed, and says nothing, just 
  enjoying the show before him.

"What the _kark_ does that mean?" Shenner mutters to herself, abruptly setting 
  down the archaeology text and scooping up a battered dictionary. She flips 
  through this to no avail, and finally, scowling, grabs at a mathematical 
  volume.

Paul has to actively stop himself from asking what she is curious about and 
  looking up, resist just giving her the answer. Having taught Shen many 
  different things, he knows her to be an apt pupil, quick to learn. But 
  learning from lessons is one thing, having the determination to puzzle 
  things out for oneself - to actually use one's mind in deductive reasoning - 
  is quite another kettle of fish. He remains silent, curious to see if she 
  can solve her dilemma on her own, and how she goes about doing so.

Shenner slaps the math text shut in annoyance, and rubs the heel of one hand 
  across her eyes, muttering an oath under her breath. Paul can hear her 
  growl, "Think, you moron street rat... wait... " Back to the archaelogy 
  text, this time, to flip to the back; her face suddenly lights fiercely, 
  then, and she dives for a physics text, eagerly. Delving into its pages 
  apparently yields what she's looking for, for she grins broadly and begins 
  devouring the information before her.

Paul smirks at her derisive remark to herself and remembers a few of his own 
  from her age. He hates the term "street rat" and reminds himself to try to 
  help shed Shenner of that particular self imposed monicker. He watches and 
  waits, curious to know what it is that she is looking up, and finds himself 
  somewhat surprised that she is managing to understand much of anything, 
  since the text book she is reading is under-graduate level, and he has the 
  distinct impression that this girl probably hasn't even -seen- the inside of 
  an institution of learning, let alone ever attended one.

Shenner, clearly, does not read very fast; more than once her mouth moves as 
  she struggles to sound out unfamiliar, complex words. And more than once she 
  reaches for that dictionary, diving into _it_ and spending noticeably more 
  time with it than she is any of the texts.

Impressed with her tenacity, if not her innate abilities, Paul grins and 
  finally says, "Whatcha rea-ding?" with a light sing-song teasing voice.

The girl starts, knocking over her dictionary. "Paul!" she yelps. "You're 
  awake..."

"Barely," is his mocking reply. He nods his head at the fallen dictionary. "If 
  you look up the word, I think you'll find that I only just barely match the 
  term." His eyebrows wing upward and he seems both amused and charmed at the 
  sight of you surrounded by a pile of books. "And all this time you were 
  hassling me for always having my nose in a book ... you hypocrite." He winks 
  at you slyly.

Shenner starts to blush, and says sheepishly, "Well... your father _did_ say I 
  could read, and, uh, I didn't know what else to do, so, uh...."

With a small jerk of his head, indicates a smaller shelf of books near to the 
  door which contain *gasp!* books of fiction. Of course it doesn't look like 
  you could remove one without removing the whole shelf - they've been 
  untouched for so long, the covers are probably fused together. "Although I'm 
  sure he expected that you would, or at least should read the text books ... 
  that would be just like him." He chuckles briefly. "I'm impressed," he adds 
  with sincerity.

Shenner turns a little more fully around to face her friend; sitting there on 
  the floor, surrounded by haphazardly piled books, Shener does indeed look 
  rather incongruous. She smiles a trifle, though, and mumbles, "I, uh, wanted 
  to learn more... you know? I mean, 'cause of bein' your assistant and 
  everything..."

Paul sits up slowly, the sunlight that was resting on him before now hits his 
  back, and flares out, making a slight halo around his outline. "I approve, 
  and am even more impressed." He cocks his head. "So, are you bored to tears 
  yet?" he asks sympathetically, strands of humor twisting through his 
  question.

The girl's face starts to crumple a little, and she bursts out in anguish, "I 
  can't make _sense_ of most of it!"

Paul smiles broadly and shakes his head fondly. "Well, I'm not surprised ... I 
  mean, that is a college level text that you're trying to pore through, and 
  for students who already have some rudimentary knowledge in the field." He 
  stands easily and ambles over to crouch down next to Shenner, and while he 
  is there he scans through the various titles scattered around her. "So, what 
  did you manage to glean from what you read?" This isn't a test, per se. Paul 
  would be just as pleased if she had managed to gain practically nothing from 
  her diligent search, because she had cared enough to make the effort in the 
  first place. Still, he couldn't help but be just a touch curious to see what 
  she had ferreted out, despite her lack of education.

Frustrated, Shenner rubs both her hands through her hair and then along her 
  stiff shoulders; evidently, she's been crouched over these books for quite 
  some time. "I got through the first coupla chapters of this" -- she taps the 
  archaeology text -- "stuff about why archaeologists go and look for 
  artifacts... and how a dig's set up... but it started losin' me after that! 
  Paul, there's just so much I don't _KNOW_!" This last leaves her in a wail 
  of pure exhaustion.

Paul frowns, sensing that Shen is taking this just a little too seriously. He 
  leans foward and places a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, hey, take it easy, 
  it's no big deal ... this is tough stuff, it's written for a student who has 
  been attending school all their life." He frowns and rubs her shoulder a 
  little. "You can't learn it all today ... if you managed to get through 
  those first few chapters, then you're doing just fine. Remember, this is a 
  text book, which means that it is in read in conjunction with a class - 
  where the students listen and learn, and most importantly, ask questions 
  when there is something in the text that they don't understand. I don't 
  expect you to become brilliantly knowledgable over night in a technical 
  scientific field that you have no background in ... that's ridiculous. I 
  wouldn't expect that of -anyone- who wasn't actively in the scientific 
  field." He tries to give her a reassuring look.

Shenner frowns, but less harshly, a little less self-condemningly, now. She 
  mumbles ruefully, "Your dad won't be mad that I got out his books, will he? 
  At least, some of these are his..."

Paul laughs at that and winks. "I'll help you put them away, but no, I don't 
  think he'll mind ... in fact I don't think he'll even notice ... as you 
  might have guessed from looking around, he's not the most organized 
  individual in the world." He gathers up a few of the books in front of him.

Shenner halfheartedly smiles and stiffly rises to assist you, occasionally 
  squinting in bemused annoyance at some of the texts over which she'd been 
  scowling the hardest.

Paul rises and puts the books away. "Got any questions that you want to ask 
  me?" he offers helpfully as they put away the last book. He then glances at 
  his chrono and heads toward the kitchen, indicating with his head that you 
  should follow. "I gotta eat," he explains, "I haven't had a bite all day."

"Howsabout, 'Can you tell me what the hell that book was talkin' about, in 
  language a street rat can understand?'" Shenner offers wanly, as she pads 
  after you.

Paul glances back and then suddenly squats in front of Shen and takes her 
  gravely by the arms. "Shen, I want you to do me a favor, alright?"

Shenner blinks. "Yeah?"

"You are -not- a street rat," he insists firmly. "You might be street smart, 
  street savvy, street wise, and street sharp, but you are -not- a street 
  -rat-, and I don't ever want to hear you call yourself that again, okay?" 
  His eyes are focused sharply upon her own, both caring and intense.

Shenner's brow crinkles as she takes in that look Paul is giving her, and the 
  tone of his voice. Blushing a little, she says huskily, "Uhm... okay..." 
  Something in her expression suggests she doesn't quite buy Paul's claim, 
  though, and is only thinking to do this because he asked it of her.

Paul shakes Shenner ever so slightly. "I'm serious here Shenner, cut yourself 
  some slack and give credit where credit is due." He frowns more seriously, 
  and if you didn't know better, you'd swear he was trying to put on that 
  intimidating look that his father has the patent on.

Shenner risks a better focused look into Paul's face, green eyes meeting 
  hazel, but she can't quite manage a smile; the embarrassed brief quirk of 
  her mouth and her plaintive eyes, speak clearly of a desperate need for 
  encouragement. And perhaps if the way she tried to devour those books is any 
  indication, encouragement in ways other than romantic or sexual.
Shenner finally promises lowly, "I won't say it no more."

"Good," he says emphatically. "Tell you what," he offers. "We'll steal a few 
  text books from the University and hold informal classes - you read and I'll 
  teach, and then you'll get to learn a little about archaeology, if that is 
  what you -want- to learn about, and I think you'll find that it isn't all 
  that hard a subject on a practical level. In turn, I'll answer your 
  questions as best as I am able, not being much of a teacher, and you'll 
  dazzle me with the speed at which you aquire knowledge with that sponge like 
  brain of yours. Deal?"

Shenner brightens, ever so slightly, but unmistakably. She admits tinily, 
  "I... wanna learn about everything, Paul...!"

He grips her shoulders tightly and smiles, "Well, that should only take a few 
  weeks," he quips lightly with a teasing grin plastered across his face. "I 
  think that you'll find that some things will be more interesting to you than 
  others, so I wouldn't bother with learning -everything-, but definitely 
  pursue the ones that you like and find interesting or useful." He then cocks 
  his head at her and asks, "So, you want some lunch? Are you hungry?"

The girl smiles a little, and rubs a hand along the back of her neck as she 
  answers, "Yeah, I guess.... I kinda lost track of time, I think. Your dad 
  gave me breakfast but that was a while ago."

"Wow, he must have really liked you," he jokes. Paul wanders over to the 
  preserver unit. He opens it and peers in. "Good lord, the man lives on 
  frozen food alone!" he gasps in mock horror. He then hmmms and sorts through 
  the few other ingredients lying about here and there. "Okay Shen, you got a 
  choice, if I may use the word innappropriately, you can have one of these 
  fairly bland frozen things, I can try to whip something up from the random 
  bits of actual food in here, we could go shopping and get something yummy, 
  or I can take you back to the Dragon and let you flirt with the waiter some 
  more ... whaddya think?"

Shenner splutters. "Flirt?!" she echoes, aghast.

Paul peers over his shoulder at Shen. "He was flirting with you ... didn't you 
  know that?" he asks curiously, "Or are you shocked that I would suggest that 
  you might flirt back?" he then asks coyly.

Shenner plops down onto one of the chairs, starting to turn crimson, which 
  clashes with her hair. "What would he wanna go and do a damnfool thing like 
  that for?" she mutters.

Paul laughs at that, and shakes his head. "I dunno Shen, pretty girl like you 
  on Corellia, surrounded by hot blooded Corellian men ... nope, no idea why 
  he would flirt with you. Uh uh. Haven't the foggiest. No idea," he teases 
  her liberally.

"Paul," Shenner says exasperatedly, "Corellians _don't_ flirt with skinny 
  little sticks with nothin' but eyes and knees and elbows to 'em!"

"Actually," Paul informs Shen, "Corellians will flirt with practically 
  anything that is female except a Gamorean or a rancor ... alright, maybe 
  they draw the line at Banthas too," he teases fiendishly. "They especially 
  go for off-worlder's, because Corellian females know better," he adds with a 
  modicum of truth. "Waiters flirt to get a good tip, but you might have 
  noticed that he didn't flirt with me," he notes wryly as he stands back up. 
  He looks back over at Shen and shuts the fridge. "And I have it from first 
  hand experience that you are not a skinny little stick," he retorts in a 
  friendly tone, the meaning of "first hand" having a definite double entendre.

Shenner glances down at herself and promptly blushes more deeply. She mutters 
  something under her breath, something that sounds distinctly like, "Don't 
  wanna get flirted at."

Strolling over he looks down at Shen, his expression not terribly surprised at 
  her decided dislike over being flirted with, since she had already indicated 
  to him her feelings of discomfort and insecurity with being feminine.  "Okay, 
  I won't flirt with you," he says somberly, tho' his eyes glint with humor, 
  "and if anyone tries to flirt with you, I'll just shoot 'em. Sound good?"

Shenner looks up with the sort of awkward look one gets when they're deeply 
  embarrassed and trying to pretend they're quite casual. ".... good," she 
  finally says gruffly. "You can help _me_ shoot 'em. Sounds like a plan."

Paul sits in a chair across from Shenner and snickers. "Oh my, okay. I think 
  that when we're done on Mandalore will have to get Jessa or somebody to 
  teach you about female wiles so you'll be a little more comfortable in your 
  own skin." He grins at the redhead and then stands. "Okay, so executive 
  decision time ... what are we eating?"

"Don't wanna go to no restaurant with no waiters," Shenner grumbles, then 
  mutters more lowly, "Don't need no 'wiles', do just fine, men'll all just 
  get me in trouble anyway..." She is still blushing furiously.

Paul pauses and lays a hand on Shen's shoulder. "Hey, I'm just yanking your 
  chain ... I'm sorry, didn't mean to upset you," he murmurs. He takes a step 
  away then, recognizing that he is one of those troublesome men in her life. 
  He returns to the fridge and opens it up, then thoughfully pulls out some 
  eggs, cheese and butter. Closing it, he looks through the shelves and 
  manages to find an onion that hasn't gone to seed yet, as well as some 
  bread. He fires up the old fashioned heating unit and finds a pan and a bowl.

Shenner flicks Paul an uneasy -- and vaguely liquid -- look, before she says 
  in a rough little bark, "'Sokay." She visibly struggles to regain her 
  composure, then adds, "W... want any help?"

Shaking his head as he cracks the eggs into a bowl he replies, "No, no ... 
  allow me to make amends by fixing you up some food ... I'm afraid this is 
  more breakfasty than lunch like, but it will hopefully still taste good.  He 
  slices the bread thickly and then cuts slits into the top and center of 
  them, but not all the way through - as if he were turning the bread into 
  little pockets. He continues to add the other ingredients in with the eggs, 
  manages to find a few old spices still hanging around from when he used to 
  live here, and then pour the entire bowl into the skillet, stirring the 
  contents over a low heat.

Shen mumbles an acknowledgement, and falls quiet, her gaze dropping to the 
  floor as she waits for the food to be finished.

Continuing to cook in the silence, Paul can feel the strange mood emanating 
  from the girl, but doesn't understand it, or her for that matter. When he 
  thinks he knows what a problem is and how to solve it, you can't shut him 
  up. But, when he doesn't know what is going on, getting him to say anything 
  can be as hard as pulling a Bantha's horn.

Finally, Shenner peeks around warily at Paul, and ventures, "Look, uhm.... it 
  ain't nothin' you did, okay?"

That is enough to get Paul to turn around, and also enough to peak his 
  curiousity. "So what is it then?" he asks as he stirs the eggs, which are 
  begining to heat and solidify.

Shenner waves a slim small hand in a frustrated gesture, as she looks for 
  words. "It's... it's like... ah, hells... it's just... all that flirtin' 
  stuff don't mean nothin' except a man wantin' to get into a gal's--" And 
  with that, she abruptly cuts herself off, turning vehemently scarlet, clear 
  out to her ears. "Never mind," she croaks.

Paul stares at the eggs for a minute, debating which he should deal with 
  first. The eggs lose and he turns off the heat under them. Leaning against 
  the counter he considers Shenner and her words carefully. "Well, I guess 
  that is partially true, but not completely true ... a lot of people flirt 
  because it is a safe way to express attraction without putting yourself at 
  risk emotionally. Some people flirt in order to get to know one another, 
  some people flirt because they can't be honest with their emotions, some 
  flirt because it is safer until they know the person that they're attracted 
  to enough to trust them to handle their feelings gently, and yes, some 
  people flirt merely to meet someone to have sex with. Then again, some 
  people flirt even though they're not actually attracted to another person - 
  I mean consider Lando, he would flirt with the woman on a magazine cover." 
  He shrugs slightly. "Flirting isn't necessarily a bad thing Shen. Who taught 
  you that it only means one thing?" he asks curiously. He tries to physically 
  give her a little space and stays back by the counter, her coloring cluing 
  him into her discomfort as well as her words.

The girl doesn't answer immediately; when she finally does, it's more directed 
  at the floor than at the one who's asked her the question. "The... the women 
  in the House always did it," she mumbles. "At least the pretty ones. That's 
  how come they could tell if they were good 'cause then the customers would 
  flirt with 'em...."
Shenner adds, almost absently, "Momma didn't get flirted with very much."

At first, her words are lost on Paul, until she says, "customers". It is then 
  that he realizes that her mother wasn't just a prostitute, but part of a 
  brothel. He manages to stifle the sharp intake of breath that is his natural 
  inclination, and instead remains silent, allowing his hands to drop to the 
  counter casually and to clutch it, not casually. He thinks hard, but no 
  response comes to mind.
Finally he sighs and replies firmly, "That is not a normal situation, that is 
  one where money is exchanged for goods, just like any other business. 
  Flirting in that instance is more akin to flattery or bribery in any other 
  business - a shady form of communication which has absolutely nothing to do 
  with how people really feel or what they're really thinking." He frowns, 
  recalling the disgusting way that the men and women would carry on when he 
  went in for his "appointments" with Clarice. She had always said that that 
  was what she had liked about him the most - because he was the only trick 
  who had been completely honest with her from the start. He shakes off the 
  memory and focuses back onto Shenner. "So long as you are only flirting and 
  don't offer or suggest anything that you're not willing to do or give, 
  you'll find that generally it's an okay form of communication, well, at 
  least if it's something that you find you enjoy. Flirting isn't for everyone 
  ... no reason why you have to put up with it if you don't want to. If you 
  call someone who is flirting with you on it, you'll know their sincerity by 
  how they react - if they flee, then they weren't serious. If they stay and 
  talk to you for real, then good chance that they are for real too."

Shenner swallows hard, as Paul speaks; her gaze creeps around to him while she 
  listens. "It... just don't feel right," she says when he's done, 
  plaintively. She flushes again and jerks her gaze away, confessing in a 
  barely audible mumble, "Scares me."

In a similarly soft voice he breathes, "Yeah, I'm not surprised," his tone 
  still a little grim when he thinks of what she had to live with, what she 
  had to be exposed to. Not wanting her to mistake his anger for her situation 
  for anger with her, he turns back to the eggs and turning the heat back on,
  resumes his stirring. He places the bread in the warmer as well. Aiming for 
  a lighter tone than he is feeling he adds, "Well, if it scares you, then 
  follow your instincts, 'cause it's better to be safe than sorry ... and if 
  you need my help or my advice, all you have to do is ask for it. It's free, 
  non gratis, yours for the taking." Finishing up the eggs, he slathers them 
  with cheese and then fills the pockets of bread with the concoction.

"Thanks," the kid mumbles. "Guess you're pretty good at it..."

Paul hands Shen her pocket and cocks his head to one side. "Good at what?" he 
  asks, her reference not exactly clear.

Grateful for something to rest her gaze upon, the kid accepts her food, and 
  mutters sheepishly, "Flirting," before she starts to eat. She yet blushes, 
  though not quite so fiercely, now.

Paul grins at that. "Oh, I wasn't sure ... I thought you were going to say at 
  giving advice." He then laughs a little and sits down with his own pocket, 
  taking a sizeable bite and chewing for awhile. "Hmmmm, I might be good at 
  flirting, but I don't think it's anything that I can take credit it for ... 
  I think it just is hard coded into our DNA - comes with the territory so to 
  speak, though I was something of a late bloomer," he notes wryly.

"You flirt good with Jessalyn," Shen mumbles, then appends, "Good at advice, 
  too, I guess...." And she munches on egg and cheese and bread.

Paul blinks and considers what Shenner has seen of him and Jessalyn, but all 
  that comes to mind are fights. "What are you talking about?" he mutters 
  between bites. "I don't flirt with Jessalyn ... I just fight with her for 
  the most part," which makes him frown as he recalls their conversation from 
  the previous night. "I can't imagine what you're thinking of, unless," he 
  recalls suddenly, "it's the pillow fight ... but I flirted with both of you 
  then ... and that wasn't serious flirting," he adds quickly, as if realizing 
  that he might be implicating something that was decidedly -not- going on ... 
  at least, not at that particular time.

Shenner shrugs, tinily. "She's better to flirt at than me anyway, I guess... 
  she's a Corellian, so I guess it'd mean somethin' to her...." Munch.

Paul seems downright astonished at that little tidbit of information.  "Jessa 
  is Corellian? No way." He actually dismisses the idea as being impossible. 
  "She doesn't act anything like a Corellian - she's shy and self critical and 
  dismissive and..." and he almost says, 'can't flirt worth a damn', when he 
  recalls how her coy little remarks had certainly worked on him like a charm. 
  "and well, subdued ... unless provoked of course." He quirks a brow, as if 
  trying to match up two sets of variables with no success. "Besides," he adds 
  abruptly, "if she is Corellian she is immune to flirting Corellian men." Of 
  course Paul's mind whoops at him, "Liar!", and only reconfirms the fact that 
  she couldn't -possibly- be Corellian.

"She said so on Palanhi, when we went out and got drunk," Shenner reports 
  simply, as she eats her food.

Paul stares at Shen consideringly and then shakes his head. "Well, fancy that 
  ... I'll have to take her to task on that one." He then checks his chrono 
  and looks back to Shenner. "By the way, and I'm sorry I didn't bring it up 
  sooner, but I was not quite myself this morning ... I couldn't sleep last 
  night so I called Yavin to see if there was any news about Jessalyn. I 
  forgot when we talked last night that Yavin is on a different cycle than we 
  are, so it's like the middle of the night or something there now."

That makes the kid look up. And smile a little, wanly. "Oh..." Her gaze is 
  anxious, but strangely reserved, as she asks, "Didja find her? Is she okay?"

Paul nods and finishes up his sandwich. "Yeah, she actually came on herself 
  ... she looked tired, but she seemed physically okay. She said that she 
  wasn't hurt, but didn't seem to want to talk about whatever it was that 
  happened, so I didn't push it. She was so upset about Luke, so we talked 
  about her feeling about that and her fears about becoming one of his 
  enclave."

Shenner blinks. "What?"

"She was upset because Luke was treating her like she wasn't a human being, 
  but a part of his dream of creating a new order of Jedi Knights ... and you 
  know how she feels about Luke, so this is particularly painful for her," he 
  clarifies further, thinking Shen's confusion is over her issues with Luke.

"Wh.... wait, since when would.... Paul, what're you talkin' about?" Shen 
  demands, sitting up alertly now.

Paul's brow crinkles and he decides to take this one step at a time.  "Okay, 
  stop me when you get confused. One, Luke told Jessa that," and he grimaces, 
  as if he thinks this is the most hokey way to put this, but is also, 
  unfortunately, the most appropriate way to phrase it, "the Force is with her 
  ..."

The girl actively gapes. "Jess's got -- she's -- she's like Luke?!"

Paul gives Shen an assenting nod. "Remember that last night on Calamari ... 
  well, that was the same day that Luke told Jessa that she had the Force and 
  that he needed to train her to be Jedi for her own protection if nothing 
  else. That is why she had I had a dinner engagement ... she was scared and 
  needed someone to talk to about it all, all her fears and trepidations, and 
  then of course Luke called me to the spaceport to set up details for meeting 
  Grathix. His timing really stinks for a Jedi," he muses thoughtfully for a 
  moment. "At any rate, Jessa just slumped in a depression, so I promised her 
  that I would take her out to dinner for once, so we could finally have a 
  conversation that didn't end up with us fighting or someone else 
  interrupting us. That's why we were gone so long - she was ... is so afraid 
  that this is going to change her ... maker her someone else - someone like 
  Luke."

Shenner says nothing through all of this, but something in her face grows 
  noticeably more plaintive. All she says is, finally, "Oh...."

Paul peers at Shen, uncertain of her nonplussed reaction and melancholy 
  expession. In a puzzled tone he inquires, "What?"

Shenner promptly tries to smile, and she says hastily, "I'm -- I-I'm glad she 
  got to talk about it with somebody she cares about--"

Paul frowns again at Shenner. "Look Shen I don't think she meant not to tell 
  you or that she didn't -want- to talk to you about it ... I don't think she 
  would have even brought it up with me if I hadn't pushed her ... I don't 
  know if anyone knows other than Luke and me ... and with me it was more 
  being in the right place at the right time." Or the wrong place at the right 
  time, he thought to himself a little nervously.

"It's okay, really, I-I don't mind she talked to you about it, it all makes 
  sense, I guess, it's not a problem," the young bardling babbles out, her 
  remnants of her sandwich forgotten in her hands.

Paul frowns, sitting back hard and not in small measure frustrated. "Fine, 
  well, I'm just going to get some things together and then we can head over 
  to the University," he snaps somewhat unintentionally as he stands up, his 
  chair scraping backward. In a softer tone he adds, "Finish your lunch," 
  before turning around and heading out of the kitchen.

Shenner looks down at the sandwich, her expression now suggesting that all 
  traces of appetite have fled from her, and food is the last thing on her 
  mind. But she mumbles obediently, "Okay," and begins to chew the rest of the 
  sandwich down.

Paul storms over to his stuff, barely surpressing the urge to growl. Either 
  Shenner is going to have to learn to be a better liar, or she is going to 
  have to be more upfront with him, because he has had it up to here with all 
  of this passive aggressive, "I'm okay, don't worry about me, everything is 
  fine" crap when her face and posture and everything else about her 
  practically screams the very opposite. In fact, if things were different 
  .... or if he hadn't had the damn call with Jessalyn last night, he'd call 
  her on this right now and be done with it .... but he has the disturbing 
  sense that to do so now would only make it backfire. Considering that he 
  needs what little psychic strength he has left to deal with his father, he 
  doesn't have any more to spare for Shenner. He grinds his teeth as he swings 
  his satchel across his chest and plasters a cheerful smile over his gnashing 
  teeth, calling out in as pleasant a sing song voice as he can, "Come on 
  Shen, let's hit the road!" And for a brief moment he considers doing just 
  that ... literally.

Paul steps outside to wait for Shen, breathing in the fresh air and sucking in
  the sunlight. He glares against the brightness, or maybe he just glares.  As
  he looks around, taking in the yard and surrounding forest, he is reminded
  of things, times, from his childhood. Itching to be away from this house he
  shifts back and forth. He struggles to decide whether or not he should
  confront Shen or just leave things as they were. If she thinks that he and
  Jessa are a better match, then so be it. If this means that her crush will
  come to an end, well, wasn't that what he wanted in the first place? He
  stares down the road and feels a wave of stress break over him ... feeling
  unprepared for meeting his father on his own turf, and wondering just what
  he will be required to do in order to get what he wants.

The girl emerges from the house, steadier of expression, her plaintiveness 
  having shifted over to a kind of worry. She seeks out Paul immediately, and 
  says gravely, "Paul, I'm sorry, I shouldn'ta started in on that, not right 
  now."

Paul turns to the girl, somewhat in surprise, and the scowl on his face eases 
  somewhat. He considers for a moment before releasing a sigh. "You're right, 
  I'm not up for this right now. But I'm also not up for evasions and you 
  trying to convince me that you're not upset or that you don't have an 
  opinion when I know damn well that you do." While his tone starts off 
  mellow, it rises in pitch and temper some. Not true anger, but definitely a 
  hint of aggravation. He takes another breath and then mutters, "Sorry, just 
  had to get that off my chest."

Shenner's mouth tautens a little at the aggravated words, but from somewhere, 
  the girl must have learned how to begin to deal with such things said to 
  her, for she makes it to Paul's apology without losing her composure. She 
  says huskily, "I... ain't too good at hidin' stuff anymore, it seems..." 
  Green eyes lower for a moment, as she sighs; then she looks up again, and 
  says awkwardly, "I... don't like hidin' stuff from you anyway..."

Her contrite attitude and her obvious dismay are more powerful than Paul's 
  aggravation and irritation. He suddenly feels guilty for being such a cranky 
  schmuck. Taking a deep breath, he holds his arms out in subtle invitation. 
  "Then don't hide things from me Shen ... cause I know when there's something 
  wrong, and it only makes me worry."

Shyly, she considers a moment, then steps into the offered arms. "Don't wanna 
  make you worry," she mumbles. "Ain't fair when you gotta deal with your 
  dad...."

Giving her a gentle hug he murmurs, "No, it's fair ... it's not like your 
  emotions have to go on hiatus just because I have some paternal issues to 
  work out." He gives her a slight squeeze before drawing back. "But I would 
  much rather that you were just straight with me ... if there's something on 
  your mind, then just speak it. If we're going to be a team, honest and 
  direct communication is going to be crucial, no matter what it regards."

At that, Shenner looks up, meeting Paul's gaze; her own turns nervous, and she 
  swallows, hesitating before blurting, "Are... you and Jessa... gonna be... 
  are you..."

Paul clamps down tightly on any potentially betraying reactions, and waits 
  instead for her question, rather than the ones that he -thinks- she might be 
  asking him. "Gonna be what?" he asks in a slightly mystified voice.

Evidently, Shenner's ability to hold her composure is not so well-practiced, 
  for she starts to blush again. But she keeps an uneasy gaze up as she 
  finishes roughly, "Are y'all gonna be lovers?"

Paul does not dismiss her question lightly, because to do so would be to negate all 
  that he had just asked of her. He drops to a crouch and looking Shenner in 
  the eyes he speaks what he believes to be true. "I doubt it."

"Do you... w-wanna be lovers with her?" Shenner does not look exactly 
  comforted by the admission, and perhaps her question suggests why.

Paul thinks about that one for a moment and then makes a bold decision to be 
  completely honest with Shen, because truth be told, the truth always finds a 
  way to be told. "I can't be lovers with someone who is in love with someone 
  else, and Jessa is in love with Luke. I do find her attractive and I do care 
  about her, but I am not -in- love with her."

How Shenner takes this is not necessarily evident from the girl's expression; 
  three or four different emotions chase one another across her features.  She 
  draws in a long, slow breath, and says at last, "Th... that's what was... on 
  my mind."

Now it is Paul's turn, because the fact that she wanted know raises some 
  questions itself. "So, why did you want to know?" he asks, that being the 
  question on his mind, although he has to admit, he is not certain that he 
  wants to hear the answer to it.

Shenner's eyes lower again, though with Paul standing there hunkered down 
  before her, he is still most of what's in her immediate line of sight. 
  "'Cause... I needed to know, I guess... I..." She grows tense of stance 
  again, and with an effort, forces herself to finish, "I mean, it ain't like 
  you're a monk, yah know?"

"No," he rumbles softly, "I'm not ... nor do I intend to be one either." He 
  cocks his head to one side and decides to press the point further, just to 
  be clear. His reptile brain squeals, "Are you insane?!" and he smooshes it 
  harshly. "So, you needed to know ..... why?"

"Well..." The kid smirks, glancing off to the side, towards the tangle of 
  grasses and wildflowers that surrounds the house. "I gotta learn to deal 
  with it, eventually... coulda dealt okay with Jess, I guess, I-I like her 
  and I like you..." Shenner trails off, then sighs and finishes, "I ain't 
  what you want so I gotta be ready when you do find what you want."

Paul looks astonished, nay floored by her comment. He blinks a few times and 
  then says, "Since when are you an expert on what I want?" his tone mild.

Shenner flushes vividly, her eyes pressing closed for a moment, as she answers 
  as steadily as she can manage, "It's whatcha _told_ me, Paul."

Now he does look puzzled. "So I outlined for you what I am looking for in a 
  woman? Now are we talking relationships here or just sex? Because they are 
  two related, but also separate, issues." He reaches forward and touches 
  Shen's chin, willing her to look at him. "What -did- I tell you Shen?"

Looking horribly confused -- and struggling, perhaps, with whether she should 
  pretend not to look hurt or simply let it all broadcast through her eyes 
  along with her bemusement -- the girl does look back at her tall friend and 
  answers with a hoarsened voice, "I'm eleven years younger than you, and you 
  don't... wanna hurt me. That you're not in love with me." She swallows, and 
  concludes, as though this is the most reasonable thing in the world for her 
  to infer, "So... someday somebody'll... prob'ly come along that you... will 
  be in love with, so I gotta learn how to... deal with that."

Paul's gaze sweeps her face, her figure, and he chews his bottom lip 
  thoughtfully, his mind working through her words and her beliefs. He finally 
  decides to address her comments point for point. "You -are- eleven years 
  younger than me, which on a certain level I find worrisome. I don't want to 
  hurt you, because I care about you too much. I don't know what love is, only 
  obsession, so when I tell you that I'm not -in- love with you, I mean that 
  what I feel for you is not what I felt for Serent. Then again, what I feel 
  for you I never felt for Serent either. As for meeting someone else, 
  anything is possible I suppose. I can't promise you that I won't, but don't 
  feel that I necessarily will either. In terms of sex, that is something that 
  you have to understand about me ... I haven't been close to anyone since 
  Serent, but like you noticed, I'm no monk. That means that I've had sex 
  without love, which you may find offensive, I don't know. All I can tell you 
  is that in terms of developing a relationship with someone, you and Jess are 
  the only ones that are even in the running ... and I don't really even know 
  Jessa, let alone have anything in common with her other than a similar 
  heartache. And on top of that, she's in love with Luke." He stops then, and 
  although the words do not come out in a flurry, but is slow careful measured 
  tones, he still -feels- like they flew out of him fast and furious and 
  without thinking ... or perhaps it was the fact that he didn't try to 
  control the words that makes it seem that way.

The girl takes all of this in, her brow crinkling under that forelock of hers 
  that keeps growing a little longer every day. As Paul speaks she keeps her 
  gaze upon him, and it remains very full; her mouth opens a little, and every 
  so often she swallows down what's probably a lump within her throat. At 
  last, without yet speaking, she slowly nods.

His hand still at her tip of her chin, he lets it slide up along her jawline. 
  This is now the second woman in less than 24 hours to whom he has had to lay 
  it all out on the line, although granted this was not as wrenching as the 
  confessions that Jessalyn twisted out of him, but it wasn't any easier 
  either. Again his mind panics at her age, her fragility, the idea that if 
  were not careful he could just break her ... and at the same time, he knew 
  her to be willowy, tough, and resilent. His green gold hazel eyes probe into 
  hers, waiting to see if she has anything to say.

"I guess..." Shen breathes this out barely audibly, then gulps in a lungful of 
  air to help her speak up as she continues, "... what you said about... just 
  seein' how it goes... is still good."

Paul dips his head at her reasonable suggestion. "Okay, well then, we'll see 
  how it goes," he murmurs. "In the meanwhile, what say you to playing hooky 
  and blowing off work?"

Shenner's eyes go round. "Wh... but... you gotta, you gotta get those things, 
  from the University, right?" she blurts.

Standing up he offers her his hand and replies succinctly. "Screw it. I wanna 
  show you the dreaming tree."

Shenner's slender fingers close around Paul's as if being poured into a mold, 
  and grip there, tightly, a sign of what emotions must still be gripping 
  _her_. "What's that?" she murmurs, still taken aback.

"It's the most perfect tree there is," he replies simply and begins to 
  walk into the woods across from the house. "You'll understand when we get 
  there."

[To be continued....]