Log Date:
	9/4/97

Log Cast:
	Paul Nighman, Shenneret Veery

Log Intro:
	Caspar is a much more peacable planet than some places Shen Veery
could name, but it's not without its excitement. Paul's come back to the 
_Hawk's Wing_ a night or two ago suffering from the aftereffects of a stun
blast, much to Shen's dismay. Still--this is a lot less serious an incident
than some that she and the Corellian have run into on Tatooine or Palanhi,
and although it causes a bit of tension between them, it blows over fairly
soon.
	Especially when Paul discovers to his amusement that an old 
acquaintance has taken very amusing advantage of tales Paul once told him 
in a bar--and has put those tales into prose....

----------
Captain's Quarters
Unlike the rest of the ship, this room is extremely cluttered with books, 
  papers, computer equipment, and many artifacts and pieces of art from 
  different cultures. In the corner stands a Viol, and a guitar rests in it's 
  case not too far from it. The rest of the ship is clean and efficient 
  looking, but this room is somehow cosier for all it's mess and confusion.

Lying on his belly, Paul is propped up on his elbows, a pillow jammed under 
  his chin and against his chest to aid in keeping his head upright. His 
  glasses are slipping down his nose, but he pushes them back up with an 
  impatient hand, flipping the page of the book before him with the other 
  hand. He is clearly engrossed in his reading, his eyes fixed determinedly 
  upon the page and his brow crinkled in avid concentration and interest.

The door whishes open on Shenner, who trudges in, scrubbing a tired hand 
  across tireder eyes. She's picked up a touch of sun today, it would seem; 
  she looks a little pinker than normal. "Hi, Paul," she mumbles around a yawn.

Eyes flicker sideways to take in her tired appearance, and it is with great 
  reluctance that he slips a finger between the pages that he is reading and 
  gives her a more than a cursory look-see. "'Evening Shen ... looks like you 
  got a bit fried today ... forgot to take some lotion with you to the beach?"

The girl chuckles lowly, moving with somewhat stiff motions as she starts 
  shrugging out of her shirt, grimacing as she does. "Didn't go to the beach," 
  she corrects. "Wanted to restock the ship's kitchen... we were runnin' outta 
  stuff...."

Paul winces and mutters, "Ah, then we now have lots of food, don't we?" he 
  realizes. In his attempt to avoid Shikh for the better part of the day, Paul 
  spent as much time as he could outside - first shopping for Shen and then 
  shopping for anything and everything he thought the ship could use for the 
  trip to Mandalore. He'd spent sometime talking to Jace for awhile, making 
  sure that he could continue to use the Hawk's Wing and forcing a small 
  payment on the man. Jace had tried to refuse it, but Paul told him to buy 
  something nice for his wife - a rather popular pattern these days - and Jace 
  finally succumbed to the idea. Paul also used Raven as a bounce board for 
  his sanity - not telling him any specifics, but getting some general ideas 
  from the man. Something of a counter balance for his out-of-balance state of 
  mind these days. Naturally groceries had been picked up. Turning back to his 
  book, Paul starts reading again. "Well, it's not like we can't use extra 
  stocks," he murmurs distractedly.

Shenner blinks, then smacks her forehead, and then grimaces again at the 
  contact to her sun-irritated skin. "Dammit. Shoulda talked to you... but you 
  were gone. Sorry," she says sheepishly.
Shenner slumps into a chair, peeling off her boots, and grimacing at the pull 
  in her shoulder muscles as she moves.

*Flip!* another page is turned, Paul only listening with half an ear now, the 
  corners of his lips curling as something on the printed page before him 
  tickles his humor. "Like I said, we'll just fatten you up some," he teases 
  absently.

Shenner snorts in dry amusement, peeling off her breeches now; at Paul's jest, 
  she peers critically down at herself, muttering, "Not frekkin' likely." Clad 
  in nothing but her underwear now, the girl crinkles her nose at her 
  clothing, and scoops up the lot of it to be tossed into the refresher bin.

A small chuckle escapes from the Corellian, but whether it is the novel in his 
  hands or Shenner's comment that strikes him funny, is hard to discern. He 
  hunkers down lower against the pillow beneath him, bring the words closer to 
  his bespectacled gaze.

Her clothes disposed of, Shen considers throwing herself into the refresher, 
  but the sight of Paul engrossed in something that's making him laugh catches 
  her attention. Barefootedly, she pads to the bed and plops down on its edge, 
  leaning in to peer over the Corellian's shoulder. "Whatcha readin'?"

The chuckle continues, and he murmurs with a touch of wonder in his voice, 
  "Utter trash, that's what ...." Still, there is a highly amused glint in his 
  eye, a charmed quality to his voice. He turns to look over at Shen, 
  starting, "You see, this author ..." but the words die in his throat when 
  his eyes catch up with the girl's figure next to him.

"Yeah?" asks Shen, waiting for Paul to finish.

Coughing to clear his throat, Paul drags his gaze back to the safety of the 
  cover of his book. "Ah, well, while I was shopping today I saw this book and 
  the author's name sounded familiar ... so when I picked it up and looked at 
  the holopic on the jacket back, I realized that he was this Twi'lek I'd met 
  in a bar a few years ago. He got me royally drunk and was really curious 
  about what I did for a living ...." His voice trails off, partially in 
  embarrassment and partially because his throat seems to have gotten 
  surprisingly dry. _Oh Seven Hells man, she's just naked ... not like you've 
  never seen a naked girl before. Pull yourself together!_

Shen yawns again, rubbing a hand once more across her eyes, then rubbing that 
  hand along one of her shoulders, trying to get stiffness worked out of it. 
  She smiles absently, as she says around that yawn, "So he wrote a book about 
  yah?"

"Well, that's a bit of a stretch," he confesses, "he wrote about what I told 
  him I did, which was total and utter poppycock." With a rueful grin, he 
  glances back over to Shen, reassured by the much reduced reaction. _That's 
  more like it_ he praises himself, and noting her efforts, he folds the page 
  over, closing the book. He pulls himself up, the sheet covering his torso
  sliding down to his waist as he settles himself behind Shen and bats 
  playfully at her hands before applying a little magic with his own, rubbing 
  at the knots in her shoulder.

"Mmmmm," Shen mumbles, her hands dropping down compliantly, her head lolling 
  forward a little, too. "What'd yah tell him you do?"

Probing the muscles along Shen's neck and working his way, Paul shrugs. "Well, 
  I told him that I was a smuggler and an archeaologist ... and told him of a 
  few of my, ah, unexpurgated adventures, ie - 20% truth, 90% fantasy, and he 
  wrote one of them in there almost verbatim." That causes another chuckle to 
  rumble forth from Paul's chest. "I've never read such rubbish in my life," 
  he admits with a hint of ... pride?

Shenner giggles wearily. "20 and 90 is 110," she points out. But she peers up 
  around at the man behind her, grinning crookedly. "So what's he _say_?"

"So?" he challenges her brightly, "You got a point?" His hands being to follow 
  down along the column of her spine. "He wrote about my dig on Tamis," he 
  replies obscurely.

"What happened at Tamis?" asks Shen, arching her back slightly as Paul's hands 
  work along it. She adds in evident approval, "Mmm."

His hands pause in their ministrations and he orders Shen lightly, "Raise your 
  arms," before he continues with his story.

"Mm? Oh, okay..." She lifts her arms as instructed, though a small exhalation 
  of tired breath escapes her at the motion. The girl must have been hauling a 
  lot back to the ship.

Grasping the bottom edge of her bra, Paul pulls it up and off readily, tossing 
  it to one side and informing her that she can put her arms down now, his 
  hands returning to her back to press and massage. "Well, essentially there 
  was an unauthorized dig in process. I was asked by the government to 
  infiltrate the dig site, find out the coordinates for the artifact in 
  question, and get it before the thieves did. Only things didn't go all that 
  smoothly in the end ..."

Shenner makes another pleased small noise, beginning to list slightly forward 
  as Paul works the knots out of her back. "What happened?" she asks in weary, 
  but still clear interest?

Shrugging negligently again, he murmurs, "I got caught." His hands trail 
  lower, past her waist, to press against the muscles at the base of her spine.

"Mmmmmmmmm... so, what _happened_?" Shen hisses a little -- yep, there's a big 
  ol' knot at the small of her back -- and adds, "You can stop that next 
  century or so...."

One palm slides along the length of her youthful body to press at her 
  shoulders, bending her over to stretch the muscle out gently. He holds her 
  there easily, his other hand working the knot with slow deliberation. "Which 
  version do you want?" he chuckles softly.

"Tell me what the Twi'lek wrote," mumbles Shenner, her voice easing, as the 
  attention to her back works at dissolving that knot.

"Well, as far as I had gotten, I was being left for dead inside of a crypt 
  that was buried under the sands in the desert on Tamis ... I had just 
  recovered the sacred scrolls of Narshadda, only to have them snatched right 
  above my head and whisked off." Eyeing the tawdry novel lying innocently on 
  the bed, Paul notes, "Last I read, the lovely heroine was warning me that 
  the torches were going out."

Shenner splutters, her body twitching with her laughter. "She's a redhead, 
  ain't she?" she demands in amusement.

Biting her shoulder teasingly, he mocks, "Nope, a brunette. Real pain in the 
  ass too."

"More 'n' me?" Shen retorts, issuing another soft snort, before she cranes her 
  head a bit under that nibble to her shoulderblade.

There is a thoughtful pause ... a diplomatic one, and way too long before Paul 
  replies in a devilish voice, "No no, of -course- not ... she was, er is a 
  total bitch on wheels," he jibes. The other hand, having finally freed the 
  knot in question, slides up to join its mate, his teeth scraping against 
  the nape of her neck. "You're a pussy cat in comparison," he baits.

Shenner mrmmmmms, and giggles again, huskily. "Tired enough to just curl up 
  and purr," she observes, shifting where she sits, turning round to look up 
  at Paul. And after a moment, she _does_ curl up -- against Paul's shoulder. 
  "Mmmmm. So what _really_ happened?

Holding her close, their skin free to connect without barriers, Paul settles 
  back, pulling Shen into his lap. His eyes raise without focus as he throws 
  back a net into his memories to see what he can dredge up. "Well," he 
  murmurs, I -did- get caught ... but there was no heroine, just a shrill 
  woman who was my contact on the case ... and who was always -on- my case." 
  He muses for a moment, putting the pieces back into their proper order. "I 
  didn't get sealed up in a tomb - it wasn't that kind of dig, really. I did 
  get the crap beaten out of me and was left in the desert. Got found by some 
  Bedou thank the Gods," he reminisces. "They patched me up, and in the end, 
  it turned out that they had a grudge against the theives in question, so we 
  sort of banded together ... I gave them the destination, they led the raid. 
  They got their revenge and I got the artifact. Everybody happy, even the 
  cranky bitch." On an afterthought he notes, "Well, I guess the band of 
  thieves weren't too thrilled, but I wasn't counting them."

Shenner makes another noise, this one a sound of distress, at the notion of 
  Paul getting beaten up. She curls an arm around him and squeezes him 
  instinctively, but offers no other commentary, save, "Well, good thing it 
  worked out...." This leaves her carried out by another yawn.

"Uh huh," he murmurs into her hair. "Come on sleepy head, let's put you to 
  bed," he suggests, pulling her down to the sheets and pulling them over the 
  two of them.

"Mmmm," replies Shenner, intelligently. She cuddles up close against Paul, her 
  tousled russet head nestling on his shoulder. Then, she drowsily goes on, 
  "What kinda artifact was it?"

"It was a set of scrolls - a religious set of precepts that culturally were 
  imbued with mythical magical abilities," he recalls, settling down next to 
  the girl and wrapping an arm about her waist. Her small breasts press 
  against his chest, and he takes controlling breath, reminding himself that 
  Shen is -tired- now.

"Oh... a holy book...?" the girl mumbles, sagely. One of her arms echos 
  Paul's, curling around him, bringing her hand up to his far shoulder.

"Scrolls," he corrects gently.

Shenner nods dreamily against Paul's shoulder. "Oh. Mmm. Read about a holy 
  book... the Khilanni..."

"Read about that in the Xenoarcheaology 101 text, eh?" he murmurs softly 
  against her ear, closing his eyes. "Gods above, looks like we'll make an 
  archaeologist out of you yet," he purrs, his words rumbling from his chest, 
  blowing against her cheek.

Shen doesn't quite open her eyes, but her expression shifts into one of vivid 
  happiness, and she murmurs sleepily, "Good! I wanna help you...." But her 
  words come out rather softer now, trailing off to barely audible on the 
  'you'.

Sighing gently, Paul wraps this other arm about her securely. There's no point 
  in dashing her hopes or urging her unreasonably, so Paul stays silent on 
  that subject. "Sleep Shen," he urges needlessly. _Sleep Paul_ he presses 
  firmly. _Sleep, but do not dream_

[End log.]