Log Date:
	6/21, 6/28, 6/29/97

Log Cast:
	Shenneret Veery, Paul Nighman

Log Intro:
	Although Paul has gotten himself checked out of the hospital, Shenner
has not ceased to worry about her Corellian friend. Treatments and tests
revealed nothing about the mysterious illness that's befallen Paul save that
some form of unknown parasite had infected his blood, and if that wasn't
bad enough, Paul's doctor has entreated Shenner to make sure that he takes
the medication she's prescribed him, a medicine which she hints may possibly
have very unpleasant side effects. While Shenner would prefer that Paul's
health be solidly restored, he has discovered that his missing friend
Marcus Crowley - the man to whom he had loaned his ship, the _Quasar Bolt_,
has turned up on Caspar, and Shenner isn't about to try to force Paul to
stay put for real recovery time, not when his ship means so much to him.
	Nor is Shen, as she and Paul spend the night at the home of Jace
Raven -- another friend of Paul's, who has agreed to loan him a ship long
enough for Paul to get to Caspar and discover what happened to Marcus and
the _Bolt_ -- and his family, about to make a decision about Paul's health
for him. The Ravens and their home, while pleasant enough, are startling to
Shen, for she has never before had a glimpse of what a happy family's home
life can be like... especially for the children. Unsettledly reminded of her
own childhood, Shenner later asks Paul about the effects of the prescription,
and while Paul realizes that she's worried and offers to take the stuff if it
will make her feel better, the girl shies away from offering any solid verdict
in reply. Feeling that she's annoyed Paul by being indecisive, it's a very
disturbed Shenner who struggles to bury her feelings as she and Paul head
to bed that night.
	And while she sleeps....

----------
Shenner dreams.

(She is nine again, and the door to her mother's room is ominously closed. The 
  ladies of the House exchange murmured words, furtive and uneasy glances... 
  and it is with a look of put-upon annoyance that the Madame calls for 
  strangers to come to the House, to enter her mother's room... and to emerge 
  with a silent form wrapped in a white sheet. They do not tell her what has 
  happened until after the strangers are gone -- and when they finally let 
  Shenner back into the room, it stinks of illness. Absence. Death.)

Disturbed, Shenner shifts in her sleep, her features tightening, her arms 
  curling about herself.
The dream blurs.

("Visiting hours are over," Dr. T'shallat says briskly. "I am very sorry, my 
  dear, but we can't let you in there." Shenner thinks to protest, even as 
  darkly-clad strangers approach Paul's hospital room. One of them looks 
  Shenner's way, a grim-faced older man... Paul's father. Shenner starts... 
  and surges forward, crying, "You have to let me in there! You have to! He 
  can't go away, he can't...! Paul!")

Eyes opening with a flickerflutter, Paul peers into the darkness. Uncertain 
  why he is awake, he glances sleepily at the window, noting that it is still 
  black outside, and then peers at his chrono, which indicates that it is 
  technically morning, but in his estimation still last night. Frowning, he 
  rises from the pillow, wondering if he heard or dreamt someone calling his 
  name.

Shenner lies curled up almost into a fetal ball, her eyes tightly clamped 
  shut. She stirs fretfully, her head shaking in apparent fervent denial, her 
  mouth working without sound before she can be heard to mumble, "Can't be... 
  gotta get... Paul?!"

His frown of confusion is replaced by a frown of concern. Scooting closer, 
  Paul draws a hand gently over Shenner's back and shoulder. _She's having a 
  nightmare ... about me ... crap!_ He's familiar with the scenario, and so he 
  leans close and softly murmurs her name, "Shen?"

Shen's head jerks, and her curled body follows it, around towards the touch to 
  her shoulderblades. Her eyes fly open as she issues a strangled little groan.

Catching her close by her shoulders, Paul hovers over her, his eyes scanning 
  her features fretfully. "Easy Shen, it's just a dream. It's okay," he 
  assures her, "You're okay."

The girl's eyes fasten on the face above her; for two seconds, her gaze is 
  filled with uncomprehending fright, before that vanishes in the wake of a 
  palpable relief that floods across her expression. "Paul," she croaks, her 
  arms wrapping instantly around him, her face burying itself against his 
  chest.

Taken aback by the intensity of her embrace, Paul wraps his arms around her 
  tenderly, raising her up against him and rocking her as a mother might. 
  "It's alright Shen," he croons soothingly, "I'm here, I'm here. I got you. 
  You're safe." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, as her face is still 
  tucked beneath his collarbones.

Shenner is shaking, though after a few moments that begins to subside. Her 
  head turns a little, and she breathes out hoarsely, "I... dream. Bad dream. 
  Sorry..."

Pressing a kiss to her temple, Paul reaches up to caress her hair. "I know," 
  he murmurs fervently, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry for." Holding her 
  close, his hand drawing through her hair in a steady pattern, Paul waits for 
  all of the tension to subside from her delicate form. "I'm sorry 
  sweetheart," he comforts in a quiet husky voice.

"I... it was when Momma died, they wouldn't let me in her room, and..." 
  Shenner shivers, trying to steady herself. "And then it was the hospital, 
  and they were c... coming to take you away just like they did her, and they 
  wouldn't let me in your room... they wouldn't let me in your room, Paul..."

As her words break over the silence of the room, Paul's movements slow and 
  still. With a small wince at the distress in her voice, the unpleasant 
  connotations of the comparison, and recognizing and empathizing with her 
  deep-seated fears of loss and abandonment, Paul's arms wrap about Shen, 
  bonds of flesh and blood. Indeed, her dream closely echos his own fevered 
  one from a few nights ago, in theme if not specific content. Drawing Shen 
  back down with him to the pillows he drags her close, cuddling her against 
  his chest and torso. "I'm here," he reassures her again. "I'll be right 
  here. I can hold you all night if you want me."

"Yes!" is her immediate whispered response, before Shenner catches her own 
  word and goes quiet, freezing briefly, before she goes on, "Yes... i-if you 
  don't mind, pal, I'm... kinda shook..."

Snuggling back into the bed, Paul reaches for the covers, pulling them over 
  both of them and drawing her tight against him. He tucks the blanket in 
  around her, his left arm wrapped about her torso and his right catching her 
  left shoulder, his fingers straying to the back of her neck where they rest, 
  feather light touches brushing against the nape and the edge of her hair. 
  "Anything you want," he murmurs in a warm loving tone, as fortifying as a 
  swallow of fine Corellian brandy.

The girl releases a small sigh, uncurling the rest of the way, only to nestle 
  into Paul... and to find that there's nothing but her own nightgown between 
  his skin and hers. She lifts a hand to place it wonderingly, palm down, just 
  below his shoulder. And she murmurs tinily, "'Mreal glad you're okay...."

"Me too," he agrees, with a thread of humor winding through his voice. He 
  realizes as well, now that they are settled, that her form is pressed along 
  the length of his body, her form no secret beneath her thin nightclothes. 
  His arm wraps about her easily, her light form no considerable weight 
  against it, and his hand reaches all the way to her waist. He strokes there, 
  rubbing the fabric against her flesh. His other hand, still caressing 
  against the slender column of her neck, reports the same resulting opinion. 
  "Gods but you're delicate," he murmurs with a soft hint of surprise.

"It's 'cause I'm skinny," Shenner mutters in reply, sheepishly.

Tracing a hand across her form, Paul puts her declaration to the test. His 
  palm and fingers range from her thigh to her shoulder and back again to 
  settle against her hip, which he massages, perhaps unwisely. Shen is 
  certainly not plush, but he wouldn't call her skinny either. "Slender," he 
  declares. "Willowy. Slight. Not skinny," he informs her in a professorial 
  tone undercut with an almost seductive lilt.

A soft little tremor courses through the girl as her body is stroked; her head 
  nestles a little closer on Paul's left shoulder, while her hand slides up to 
  clasp his right. And all at once, she gives him a shy hug. "Guess I ain't 
  quite so stick-skinny anymore," she says softly. Then her voice roughens 
  with embarrassment. "I, uh, changed..."

His lips brush across her brow as he turns his head toward hers, returning her 
  spontanteous hug with one of his own. His hand abandons her hip to wrap over 
  her ribcage, his palm heating the flesh below her breasts. "Uh huh," he 
  agrees with a heated murmur. "We both have," he comments cryptically.

Mostly relaxed now, save for that sudden little tickle to her breath as Paul 
  relocates his hand, Shenner whispers, "Yeah? Ain't nobody mistaking you for 
  a girl..."

"Most changes are internal, not external," he notes thoughtfully. "I'm sure 
  you know that as well as I do. The external is transitory, and in the end 
  not the point really ... to be cliche'," he murmurs with another soft brush 
  of his lips against her temple, "it's what's on the inside that counts."

Shen cuddles close to Paul, now, though not so deathly hard, and as she speaks 
  her reply it's in a tone shy and amused all at once: "I like your inside. 
  Your outside ain't bad, either..."

A chuckle rumbles against Shenner's ear, emiting from deep in Paul's chest. 
  "Ditto," he murmurs affectionately. Releasing her neck, his hand trails down 
  to her waist, resting against her spine and the small of her back. "Feel 
  better?" he queries her gently.

"Yeah," the girl answers softly. "Paul, I'm... sorry if I got you mad 
  tonight..."

"Mad?" Drawing his head away so he can look her in the eyes, Paul's eyebrow 
  wing their way downwards. "I might have been grumpy, but you didn't make me 
  mad Shen ..."

A lopsided smile, pale in the darkness of the room, blossoms across her face. 
  Shenner breathes in response, "Good. I just been... all wound up, guess it 
  was hard for me to tell...."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, leaning forward to drop a kiss onto her cheek. "You 
  shouldn't let my moods sway you ... it would take an awful lot for me to be 
  truly mad at you Shen. If you take my every twitch personally, you'll give 
  yourself a complex or something." Pressing his lips against her eyelids, he 
  snuggles her close. "Sleep," he urges her in a darkly amber voice.

The girl willingly snuggles back, murmuring, "Mixed up enough already... don't 
  need no more complexes..." Her head settles securely against his shoulder, 
  and she adds, her voice softening as she orders herself to return to 
  slumber, "Thanks, pal..."

"Sure," he mumbles, settling himself comfortably and shutting his eyes. He 
  takes a deep breath, feeling Shen's body rise and fall with his own, the 
  sensation oddly reassuring. His mind begins to drift, preoccupied with the 
  feel of her breath against his collarbone, the press of her body against 
  his. Slowly but surely he slips into a meditative and then dream state, 
  falling back asleep as easily has he had woken from it.

With Paul's arms cradling him to her, and the warmth of his form seeping into 
  her own, Shenner finally relaxes completely. Her mind is still bemused from 
  the dream... but the knot of tension it had caused within her has melted, 
  and this time, it takes her far less time to drift off into slumber.

[Some time later...]

The morning light seeps in through the windows, bouncing against the wall and 
  lightening the room with a gentle saffron glow. Blissfully unaware of the 
  impending daybreak, Paul snuggles into the bed, and respectively, into Shen. 
  His arms are wrapped around her delicate form, her head tucked against his 
  bare shoulder, his head resting against her own. A soft contented murmur 
  seeps from his throat, but his eyes remain closed.

Shenner supposes that it must have been the light that wakened her, for she'd 
  drifted off to sleep with Paul's arms wrapped about her, with her head 
  pillowed against his shoulder, but she does not know for certain. She does 
  know that her mind has leapt straight from slumber into full awareness with 
  no transition in between, and leaving her with no desire to go back to 
  sleep. Paul's warm arms around her and the slow, steady rise and fall of his 
  chest under her own arm are a powerful argument to simply close her eyes 
  once more -- but they are also the argument for the other side of her mind, 
  the side that remembers last night's dream... the side that is demanding of 
  her, _Okay, street rat, what now?_
What now? Karking good question. Shenner feels a now-familiar knot of tension 
  creeping up through her chest at the thought. Most of her yells _No, just 
  shut up, don't push it, don't blow it_... but this morning, the rest of her, 
  the part that holds the memory of the nightmare and how Paul had held her 
  afterwards, shoves fiercely at the rest of her thoughts, demanding 
  attention. _Deal with it now,_ it insists. _Deal with what, that's the 
  problem!_ Shenner hurls back at both corners of her mind, her brow crinkling 
  as she tries to relax herself, lest Paul sense her unease. But there, that 
  _is_ the problem: Paul, blessed comfort that he is, is _also_ the unease.

Dreaming and oblivious to the focus he has become, Paul shifts in his sleep, 
  rolling from his side to his back. His left arm becomes disentangled from 
  Shenner, but his right still holds her lightly against his side, wrapping 
  easily around and over her lithe figure. The blanket, which had been 
  covering them both securely during the night has since slipped to his waist.

Shenner swallows as Paul rolls over, shifting herself as best she can to 
  accommodate him, and she swallows again as a fair amount of his bare torso 
  is revealed to her sight once he's settled again. _He's holding you close, 
  you moron, what more do you want?_ she rails at herself, blushing. _The 
  roses he's been talking about? A sonnet? A love song? Get real!_ Getting 
  deeply annoyed at herself, Shen feels her throat tightening up. Suddenly 
  loathe to wake Paul up with the sight of her wrestling with tears, she 
  starts trying to ease herself out of his grasp. Sit up, first, see if you 
  can get out from under his arm... slowly....

Her movements register only slightly, but enough that he tightens his grip, 
  pulling her warm soft figure against his torso with an unintelligible murmur.

That stops Shen cold, awkwardly propped on one elbow. His small motion and the 
  sight of his sleep-still features make her eyes well over in earnest, and 
  make that lump in her throat swell a little larger. She leans forward and 
  down to kiss his forehead, whispering, "I love yah, pal," as softly as she 
  can manage, as loudly as she dares.

The feather light kiss and her softly whispered words are rewarded with a 
  flutterflick of his eyelashes, as Paul's senses register the two actions. He 
  opens his eyes lazily, only half way. A warm smile spreads across his lips 
  as he registers Shen's face looking down on his, her body leaning across his 
  own. "Mmmmmmm-mmm?" he asks in a tone rich with dreams and promises.

Blinking, unsure whether she'd yearned for or dreaded his responding to her 
  murmur, Shen cracks a lopsided grin and breathes a mental prayer that Paul 
  won't notice any suspicious wetness in her eyes. "Mornin'...."

"Already?" he murmurs in a voice husky with sleep. His tone sounds 
  disappointed, thwarted, like a child who's been told been told he has to go 
  to bed now ... only this is obviously a reversal of that complaint. His 
  smile however is engaging and intimate, as he feels very happy and 
  companionable with Shen at his side. It feels charmingly cosy and right to 
  Paul, and he regards the redhead though half closed tempting hazel eyes.

That lump in her throat refuses to go away, and damn it all, she can't make 
  herself look away, not with that warm gold-hazel-green gaze on her. Her 
  smile crinkles a little before she steadies it and says gamely, "Yeah... you 
  don't hafta move if you don't wanna... I mean... if you... need to sleep 
  some more...."

"Oh goodie," rumbles forth Paul's delight, and a wickedly mischeivious grin 
  touches the corners of his mouth. Considering her sleep mussed hair, Paul 
  reaches up to straighten it somewhat, which isn't a terribly successful 
  venture. "I feel like a big lazy cat," he admits in the safety of this 
  intimate moment, "lying in a puddle of sunlight, content as can be." He 
  stretches slightly, his left arm reaching out, his back arching, before he 
  settles back. His right arm, however, remains at Shen's back.

What leaps into her mind -- and immediately follows the circuit to her mouth 
  before she can stop herself from making the reply -- is, "This mean if I rub 
  your belly, you'll purr?" The other half of her mind promptly squeals, _What 
  are you DOING?!_ at her, and she blushes, then.

Catching the comment and the blush, Paul raises an eyebrow. "I dunno," he 
  answers in a throaty tone, "can't say I ever recall anyone trying that 
  before." His eyes narrow with a sort of surprised interest and speculation. 
  The hand at her back, which was just holding her, begins to move, stroking 
  the base of her spine in small erotic circles.

_What are you--_ As the back of her mind starts to squeal again, Shenner 
  silences it fiercely, refusing to ponder what she's doing, lest her suddenly 
  acquired resolve fail her. _What now? THIS now!_ is all she allows herself, 
  before Paul's moving hand distracts her. She grins again, shyly, lopsided in 
  the other direction, and moves her free hand down Paul to rub below his 
  ribcage. "Guess there's, uh, only one way to find out...."

_What is happening here?_ Paul muses somewhat breathlessly. Shen's bold 
  touches both shock and entice him. He never expected this, and at the same 
  time, he finds her boldness, her curious exploration to be extremely 
  arousing. His eyes remain slitted, watching her face intently. The muscles 
  of his abdomen reflexively ripple at her touch. His own hand strokes up 
  along the length of her spine to scrape lightly along the back of her neck 
  and delve into her hair.

Shenner's features, under scrutiny, are determinedly set... and strangely 
  reserved, for all that her slim young form reacts palpably to his hand's 
  attention. Traces of tearstains linger around her eyes, and she closes those 
  eyes, as if afraid to meet Paul's own. She settles back down against him, 
  too, pressing himself in close to his side, that motion at odds with her 
  palm's continued, steady rubbing along his bare skin, up and down his upper 
  body.

His muscles occasionally jerk under her palm's ministrations, and an increase 
  his rate of respiration might be evident. Paul's hand reaches to tilt 
  Shenner's face to his own, considering the tear tracks carefully. A soft 
  growl emits from his throat, somewhat rougher than a purr. "Shen," he asks, 
  his voice deep and husky, "What's going on?"

_Ah, karkin' hells..._ _That_ squeal is much tinier, more frightened, from the 
  back side of her mind, and Shenner can't stop herself from going tense 
  again. But with Paul's hand cupping her jaw, she can't look away, either. 
  Her eyes threatening to turn liquid again, she breathes out hoarsely, "Paul, 
  I... I want you to... will you...."

The hand at the back of her head comes round to stroke gently over her brow 
  and through her hair and comforting and reassuring gesture. The hand holding 
  her chin feathers gentle caresses there. His eyes change the most - they are 
  suddenly extremely intent and intense, wondering and uncertain. Paul's 
  golden-green gaze captures and holds Shenner's own emerald bright one. "What 
  do you want?" he asks her, a refrain that he finds he sings again and again 
  to the woman in his arms.

Young woman she might have become in form, but it's still a very nervous, 
  frightened girl looking out from Shenner's eyes. "You," comes her blurted 
  reply, and again, the fair skin of her face flushes pink.

That golden-green gaze simmers in reaction, but traces of caution flit along 
  the outskirts. The hand in her hair draws to the back of her head, holding 
  her there and the hand on her jaw trails back, fingers resting below her ear 
  and along her neck. "Shen, I .... I ... are you sure? I can't tell you that 
  I don't want you, but more importantly, I don't want to hurt you ..." 
  Uncertainty and concern intermingle with arousal at her forward claim.

Paul's failure to say no momentarily stuns her; then, Shenner swallows hard, 
  and croaks out, "'Msure. W... want it to be you... always have... just 
  scared to ask..." _Dammit, Shenneret Veery, you WILL NOT CRY... too late. 
  Dammit!_ But she salvages enough pride to avoid saying 'please', and 
  instead, simply looks back at Paul as steadily as she can manage.

_Scared to ask?! I'm scared to -agree- to this madness!_ Paul croaks 
  internally. It's not like he hasn't considered this moment, it's not like 
  they hadn't come close before, and it's not like he hadn't come up with 
  several good reasons why it would be okay. Of course it's not like he hadn't 
  also come up with several good reasons why it was not. _If I refuse her, it 
  will crush her, but if I accept, I'm sure to hurt her anyway ...._ His eyes, 
  hot on hers, absorbing her innocence along with her need to be wanted, her 
  need to be loved, Paul finds that his body takes over, bypassing his torn 
  mind and making its own judgement on the situation. He pulls her head down 
  to his, brushing his lips back and forth over hers in seductive little 
  non-kisses. Tempting, teasing lips promise, but hold back on delivery while 
  the hand at her jaw trails down along the line of her neck, stroking over 
  her collarbones, along the side of her breast, across her hipbone, and down 
  to the edge of her gown, where he strokes her exposed flesh.

Not knowing whether this means no or yes -- and scared to ask _that_ -- 
  Shenner offers no reply save an intake of breath as Paul's lips and fingers 
  put in their own input. In the position she's in, only one hand remains 
  free, and with this, she awkwardly strokes at his far shoulder.

His mouth moves to graze along the line of her jaw. When he reaches her ear, 
  his voice soothes with its words, and encourages with its libidinous tone. 
  "It's alright, you're in control - we do as much or as little as you're 
  comfortable with .... if you want me to stop, just say so." His breath 
  tickles against her neck, and the hand stroking her thigh slips under the 
  gown and begins to stroke higher, testing the texture of her skin.

"No," she whispers tinily, "don't stop..."

Obediently, Paul returns his mouth to hers, latching on possessively and 
  kissing her. His hand trails up along her exposed flesh, dragging the gown 
  in its tow. He strokes along her back, teasing her sides with the one hand, 
  while the other caresses the back of her neck.

The girl draws in a quivering breath, and yields herself up to these 
  attentions, while her one free hand presses a little harder against Paul's 
  shoulder and looks for a track of its own to follow. Her eyes close as she 
  loses herself in the kiss, all the while fiercely ordering herself, _Focus 
  on this. This now. You wanted to know what now? This now! Figure it out 
  later..._

Doing his level best to keep his pace easy, his hands gentle, Paul strokes 
  alongside one breast while his lips and tongue keep Shen's mouth occupied, 
  her mind distracted. His other hand continues to run through her hair, 
  exploring its silky texture. When he comes up for air, he murmurs against 
  her lips, "Tell me what you want ... what you like ..." in a voice as smooth 
  as fine Corellian brandy, before he captures her mouth again in another 
  seductive kiss.

Distraction, indeed. Under that kiss, Shenner has a hard time remembering what 
  question she'd been asked. Then she whispers when she has another chance to 
  breathe, "That..." And as she registers the fingertips at the side of her 
  breast, "That..." Not sure what to do with her free hand, she strokes it up 
  and down Paul's far side, feeling her palm grow warmer the longer it keeps 
  contact with his skin.

A gentle smile curves Paul's lips as they frame hers. He pulls away from her 
  mouth to explore the satiny curve of her neck, his hand growing bolder and 
  straying across her breast to rub in a circular pattern. The other hand 
  releases her neck and travels down her back to her thighs, and recalling 
  that she seemed to like this the last time, he reaches to the flesh along 
  the inner side, running his fingers there in shivering light erotic touches.

The girl _wants_ to learn as she can from what Paul is doing; what should she 
  be doing with her hands, at least the one she can move? But Paul's 
  attentions are accomplishing the task of distracting her, and then some. She 
  shivers all over, and her hand stops moving, gripping Paul's back where it's 
  come to rest as though it's been fused there.

Paul begins to feel a familar niggling in his conscience, the same one he did 
  when he first kissed Shen back on Calamari. _Gods, she is -so- innocent_ he 
  realizes uncomfortably. He feels like some kind of Don Juan, seducing and 
  corrupting her unfairly. At the same time, the power that he obviously has 
  over her is as arousing as it is distressing. Slowing down the pace, his 
  hands slip to her side and her back again, respectively, moving into less 
  erogenous zones, stroking with a softer touch.

As Paul's hands slow, Shenner lifts her head, telling herself she doesn't dare 
  look at the man beside her, but doing so anyway. Her hand moves up slowly to 
  his face, as she looks up at him, her eyes dark and anxious and shy.

Shen's eyes are nearly Paul's undoing, brimming as they are with needs and 
  fears and desires. _Say something_ he commands himself, _Tell her that you 
  should just stop right now_, but Paul's tongue cleaves to the roof of his 
  mouth, his jaw refuses to open. The hand at her side travels up her arm and 
  closing his palm, he strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers, meeting 
  her potent gaze with one of his, replying with eyes that burn with desire 
  and uncertainty.

"Don't stop," the girl breathes roughly. She swallows once, then adds in a 
  tiny whisper, "Please, Paul..."

The eyes spark, sizzle, and the hand at her cheek pulls her face back to his, 
  his lips capturing hers in an edgy and passionate kiss. The hand at her back 
  drops down and under, to stroke her flesh, pulling her hard against him, 
  then reaching 'round her torso, tantalizing the tender skin of her belly.

There is little skill in Shenner's answer to that kiss, but her need is more 
  than clear. She presses herself to Paul, bringing both her arms around him, 
  though this requires her to loop one under his neck.

Dragging Shen across his body, he places her on top of himself, their bodies 
  bonding with nothing but her thin gown and his sweatpants keeping them from 
  being wholly flesh to flesh. His knee slips between her thighs to press up 
  high against her. The hand continues to torment her, stoking along the side 
  of her breast, her belly, and her thigh. Releasing her lips, Paul strays 
  down, placing kisses and light bites against her neck and her collarbones. 
  His other hand releases her head at this change of tactics, ranging along 
  her opposite side, matching the actions of its mate.

Shyly, Shenner begins to brush small kisses of her own along Paul's brow, down 
  the side of his face, into his hair, at least when her head does not arch 
  back and up with those nibbles to her collarbone. Her breath grows 
  shallower, more rapid.

Using his hands, mouth, and body, Paul pulls Shenner into a vortex of sexual 
  pleasures that she has never experienced before, gentling her through 
  violent tremors and reactions, coaxing her to explore and demand. He pushes 
  Shenner toward orgasms again and again, overwhelming her with erotic 
  sensations, seeing to her pleasure above all else, regardless of the cost to 
  himself. When the climatic moment arrives, he utilizes every ounce of 
  willpower to take her gently, wincing at her inevitable pain and then 
  showing her the pleasures that lie beyond it. When it is all over, he holds 
  her close, stroking her glistening form, his hands and voice full of 
  reassurance and praise. He holds her close even after their mutual 
  exhaustion slips them both into a light slumber.

[And later...]

The second awakening is not due to the light in the room; it's been bright for 
  some time. But this time, like then, Paul's arms are still around her. Shen 
  stirs, then, memory still vivid within her, clearly defined. _Paul_. She 
  opens her eyes, and blinks, finding her vision a trifle wet with tears.

The Corellian in question is lightly sleeping, his chest still gleaming 
  slightly with perspiration, his face peaceful and relaxed.

Shen stares at him for a long moment, then swallows, and hugs him close, 
  feeling shaken, disoriented, not sure whether she's still the same Shenner 
  or somehow fundamentally altered.

Her shifting form against his own triggers a reaction with his still 
  sensitized flesh, and Paul's eyes open drowsily. Instinctively he returns 
  her embrace, rubbing his head against the top of hers. "Hey," he greets her 
  huskily.

"Hey," she whispers back. Call and response.

A small smile graces his lips, which he then graces hers with in a light and 
  tender kiss. Drawing his head, he considers her thoughtfully. _Well, this 
  changes everything, doesn't it? Always does_ He doesn't voice his thoughts, 
  but instead asks, "How ya feeling?"

She _looks_ unsettled, her eyes liquid, though she offers a crooked smile as 
  she murmurs, "I'm... a bit shook."

_Well of -course- she is_ he chastises himself, _You only just altered her 
  entire life ....-again-!_ Shaking his head lightly, he reaches up to stroke 
  along one cheek. "Yeah, I guess you would be .... ah, but you ... you're 
  okay? You're not, um, sorry?" Paul's voice becomes uncharacteristically shy 
  and awkward with his pointed questions.

"No way," Shen responds immediately, giving a little shake of her head. Her 
  own voice is still very soft. "I'm okay..."
Shenner adds after a moment, earnestly, "Thank you..."

Pulling her head down again, Paul nestles it to one shoulder, stroking his 
  fingers through her hair. He sighs deeply, buoying her up and down. "Why are 
  you thanking me?" he quizzes her curiously, but his voice is warm and 
  affectionate.

Shenner lets herself be held, lets her head be nestled, willingly. She 
  considers Paul's question for a moment or two, before she finally answers, 
  "Seemed right..." She doesn't elaborate, though.

That confuses the Corellian holding her close, and he considers pressing her 
  for details, but decides that it isn't the most important question. "Okay," 
  he responds curiously. Then, changing tactics, he asks Shen a more difficult 
  one. "Shen? I know this is a strange thing to ask, and you might find it 
  hard to answer but .... why?"

The girl wasn't moving before, yet somehow it can still be sensed that she's 
  gone still, at that new question. "Wh... why... did I ask you to..." Her 
  voice roughens; she doesn't finish.

"Yeah," he responds awkwardly, his hands stroking along the bare skin of her 
  arms and back. "Why did you want me to make love with you? Why now?"

_Ah hells... why did he have to ask..._ Unable to provide an answer when she 
  herself isn't quite certain yet, Shen closes her eyes against a fresh prick 
  of tears. Why indeed? Half-formed fragments of reasonings flicker across her 
  mind, before she at last croaks out, without looking up, "Didn't... think 
  I'd ever get another chance."

That rings oddly in Paul's mind. _If she didn't think she'd ever have a 
  chance, that means she must think I'm leaving her ... and if she thinks 
  that, then why would she want to have sex with me?_ Paul's head begins to 
  whirl with all of the possibilities raised by that simple statement. Hugging 
  her close, Paul drops a kiss to the top of Shen's head. _Leave it be, this 
  is not the conversation you have with a woman after making love with her for 
  the first time, you insensitive dolt!_ "Did I hurt you Shen?" escapes from 
  Paul's lips instead of the other questions crowding his thoughts.

Hearing _that_ come out of Paul encourages those tears pricking at Shenner's 
  eyes to step up their pace. _He's always asking me that,_ she tells herself. 
  _Always worried about hurting me... delirious, drugged, or dreaming, he's 
  always worried about me..._ And her chest catches a little as the back of 
  her mind suggests, _And you love him for it, doncha._ She draws in a breath, 
  then, and lifts her head, grinning a little again. "Not so's I noticed all 
  that much," the girl answers truthfully. "I'm okay, Paul..."

Placing lips to each side of her face, Paul kisses away the remains of her 
  tears. "So what do you think? Was it good for you?" he queries with a 
  teasing smile. He doesn't ask her this in an egotistical way, the way many 
  men would ask. He asks because he is uncertain that his perception was also 
  her reality.

"I, uh, guess I understand where Corellians get their rep from now," she 
  answers back, still grinning a bit, her gaze steady, something about it very 
  clear and sure.

Paul laughs in a rich flowing tenor, "I'll take that as a yes and a compliment 
  then," he teases her lightly, nipping at her lower lip playfully. "I'm glad 
  ... I wanted your first time to be right ... special," he admits.

"That's why I asked you," replies Shenner, a slight emphasis on the pronoun. 
  She blushes lightly, though.

That catches him by surprise. Paul considers her blush and notices a rekindled 
  fire in his abdomen. On a humble note, he murmurs, "Then I'm honored," 
  catching up her lips again in a fervent kiss.

[End log.]