"Scuba, Smelt, and Sharks"

Log Date:
	3/2, 3/15, 3/22, 3/23, 3/29, 3/30, 4/6, 4/8/00

Log Cast:
	Webb, Shenner

Log Intro:
	In the many months she's lived on Caspar Shenner's life has settled
down considerably--though it has not been without its adventures, such as 
her participation in the recent war with the Empire. And it's helped 
considerably that she's had a relationship blossom with Jonathan Webb of 
the Caspar Marines, because Webb's got a regular habit of finding the most
adventuresome ways for Shen to spend her time even as he subtly coaxes her 
through working out a lot of her issues.
	Such as, for example, taking her scuba-diving as an early birthday 
gift--and a way to help her confront the mild water phobia she's had ever 
since her expedition to Mandalore....

----------
You head for the beach.
Hideaway Beach - Plaxton City

        Surging whitecaps paint themselves onto the powderlike, white sands 
  of this sliver of beachfront, tucked between the two massive bluffs that 
  encircle Plaxton City. The waves have eaten into several places on the 
  shore, forming rocky outcroppings and small coves, but one long strip is 
  laden with pristine, whispy sand. A few Pula trees jut out, throwing their 
  branches toward the tides. Small pale blossoms dot their thick branches, 
  filling the air with a sweet fragrance. A few hundred meters from shore, a 
  jagged pebble of an island stands defiantly in the surf, holding up an old, 
  unused lighthouse. The night sky above is cloudy obscuring it.

                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Webb
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <F>ishhouse leads to Jehan's Fishhouse.
 <E>ast leads to West Blake St. - Plaxton City.

Webb strides across the sands towards the waterline, his hand clasped about 
  yours. A black dufflebag is slung about his other shoulder. Though clouds 
  obscure the night sky, and there is a faint breeze, it is pleasantly warm, 
  in a manner that makes the night air seem quite invigourating after five 
  months of various forms of winter.

"I _still_," Shenner proclaims, trotting along on bare feet beside you along 
  the sand, "can't get over how fast the snow melts when the seasons change!" 
  Wearing nothing but her swimsuit, her hair caught up in those braids and 
  wound about her head, she's almost insubstantial in the night-time air.

Webb grins lopsidedly as he strides up to just above the high-tide mark, and 
  lets the bag drop from his shoulders. His movements and attitude is quite 
  unhurried, though there's a certain undeniable excitement about him. "I told 
  you we were due..." he murmurs as he turns to face you, his expression 
  seeming almost sly.

Seeing you so... well, unclad... is hardly an unusual experience for Shenner 
  at this point. Seeing it _outside_, however, has a fascination for her even 
  now. Curling her arms around you, she grins up into your eyes and teases, 
  "Give you weather awareness training in the Marines, do they?"

It certainly has been a while since an opportunity quite like this presented 
  itself. Last time, it was, in theory at least, supposed to be just a 
  harmless swimming lesson. Perhaps it's the memory of that night which leaves 
  Webb with that feeling of butterflies in his stomach as he gazes down at 
  you, then reaches out to draw your swimsuit clad body to his, "Mmm. Yeah, 
  actually... though having been here for almost five years certainly helps."

"Maybe I'll pick it up then, but I got a couple more years to go," Shen 
  breathes, smiling more in her eyes than around her mouth. This beach... 
  she's finally had the ghosts of much earlier encounters with a certain 
  Corellian here chased away from her consciousness, and now there's nothing 
  but a warm, vivid contentment in her emerald gaze as she stands there with 
  you, caressed by the evening breeze. "But in the meantime, what's on the 
  campaign for tonight, soldier?"

Webb's hands have eagerly nestled into the small of your back, and as he 
  talks they slowly travel up and down the contours of the muscles on either 
  side of your spine, making the idea of staying close to him all that much 
  more attractive. "Well," he murmurs as he gazes down to you, "Hope you've 
  been keeping in practice at the pool..." his gaze momentarily averts, 
  focussing meaningfully upon the dufflebag which he brought with him.

Shenner makes a face. "Sorta kinda," she hedges. Is it her fault her workouts 
  tend to focus on the sword? Unless Jairen shows up, after all, it's not 
  exactly good for her remote to try to swing a sword at it while it's 
  underwater.

Webb's grin grows a touch wider as he focusses upon you once again. Softly, 
  he intones, "Don't worry... I'll be right with you all the time..." Of 
  course, something in his tone of voice, and the manner in which his fingers 
  liesurely stroke up and down your back, just seems to imply that said 
  proximity might be for more than instructional purposes.

The young singer in your arms pulls in a breath, not at all having a problem 
  with the fluttering feelings you're setting off in her -- but aware that 
  they're likely to provide a distraction if you actually intend to get her 
  anywhere near the ocean. On the other hand, she muses, that might not be a 
  bad thing. Nibbling momentarily at one end of her lower lip, she traces a 
  fingertip along your chest and asks in bright tones, "Worried, who's 
  worried? We could always just skip the ocean and go straight to makin' out, 
  saves time that way...!" Why, is that a tone of nervousness in Shen's voice?

"Tempting," murmurs Webb. After all, here the two of you are upon a lonely 
  stretch of beach, lightly attired, caressed by the warm sea breeze, and not 
  to mention one another. Webb swallows, trying to clear the lump that feels 
  like it's forming in his throat. Now, almost trembling himself, he starts to 
  slide down so that he can open the dufflebag, but finds himself compelled to 
  nuzzle against you even as he slips away.

"But I got the feelin' you're still determined to introduce me to Mr. Ocean," 
  Shenner breathes, her hold on you lessened ever so slightly by your 
  movement. "For my own good, huh...?"

Webb grins lopsidedly as he unzips the dufflebag and murmurs, "Yep. You'll 
  like it too..." His tone implies not an order, but simply confidence in his 
  statement, "I figure we'll try something a little different." Different 
  indeed - the duffle, when drawn open, is revealed to contain masks, 
  breathing apparatus, fins, and other dive gear, all looking quite well 
  maintained and well designed.

"Good gods," Shen blurts, eyes going wide as she finally gets a good look at 
  the variety of gear you've brought. Despite her apparent mild water phobia, 
  curiosity begins to light up her eyes. Crouching opposite you, she peers 
  intently at each item you pull forth. "All this yours... or did you bring it 
  from the base?"

"One set is mine," explains Webb, his grin growing a little wider as he 
  detects the curiousity in your gaze. Indeed, one set of the gear bears a 
  colour scheme that quite closely matches that of the wetsuit which he is 
  wearing.

To this, Shenner grins a bit. "You _do_ collect interesting toys, doncha...?" 
  The young singer picks up a mask, squinting at the front of it. She doesn't 
  ask whether this means the plan is to don the gear and go diving into the 
  water with it; that, after all, is obvious. But she does shoot you a wry 
  look. "You _do_ realize, right, I ain't never done scuba gear in my life?"

Webb winks slyly as he withdraws the two sets of gear from the duffle, and 
  lays them out carefully upon the sand, "Yep. I did guess as much. And I'm 
  quite prepared to teach. We're going to start things simple, stay in the 
  shallows, and stay close." One might readily notice that the second set of 
  gear is of differing colour scheme from Webb's. The colour is still quite 
  'oceanic', except whereas Webb's is predominantly grey with a tint of blue, 
  the second set is sea-green with a hint of teal.

"That," Shenner announces in authoritative tones, gesturing at the sea-green 
  hues of that second set of gear, "does _not_ look like the color of 
  standard-issue military diving gear, soldier." And despite herself, a bit of 
  eagerness joins the curiosity already seizing her. This might be fun. "So 
  what goes on first, huh?"

Well, the second colour scheme actually seems to be a fair compliment to 
  Webb's, even if it doesn't seem very military. On the subject of said colour 
  scheme, he comments, "Well, you did have a birthday coming up, didn't you?"

Hel-lo. Thunderstruck! It's not an expression that hits Shen Veery very often. 
  She freezes where she's crouched, then looks up slowly at you, bemusement in 
  her emerald eyes. Then, just as slowly, she ventures forth a sheepish smile. 
  "I... don't remember tellin' you that," she points out, too mildly to really 
  be accusing.

Webb answers nonchalantly, "Yeah, well... I have quite an intel network going, 
  you see." He pauses for a second or two, before he elaborates with a fairly 
  simple explanation, "Ariani."

"It figures. She never can keep her freggin' mouth shut." This is delivered 
  with utmost affection, and never mind really that Ariani's communicativeness 
  depends much upon who's trying to get her to communicate. But at any rate, 
  Shenner reaches over to touch your cheek, still half-smiling, looking both 
  pleased and embarrassed. "Does this mean I'm authorized to hassle your squad 
  about when _your_ birthday is?" she drawls.

Webb angles his head slightly to one side as he gazes across into your eyes. 
  He smirks, and comments, "Oh, I dunno. I think most of my people would 
  steadfastly assert that I was grown, rather than born."

If anything, Shenner smiles more broadly now. "And _I_ would steadfastly 
  assert that you're holdin' out on me, Lieutenant," she parries. But then her 
  expression gentles as she leans over and nuzzles your cheek. "But I'll bug 
  you about it later. For now... show me how to use this stuff, huh?"

Webb's eyebrows arch briefly, as he ponders just what such an interrogation 
  might entail. Feeling you nuzzle against him only serves to further 
  stimulate that line of thought, and it takes a second or two before he 
  brings himself back to focus, "Well, it's warm enough that we're not going 
  to need wetsuits or drysuits, so we can skip that step..."

The singer's nose crinkles. "What's the difference between a wetsuit and a 
  drysuit?" she inquires. Leave it to Shen to start firing out any and all 
  questions that come to mind, whenever she's confronted with a new situation 
  to learn about. Even if it _is_ making her nervous. To distract herself, she 
  keeps one hand idly trailing a finger along your shoulder while she looks 
  over the gear again, with the same kind of inquisitive inspection with which 
  she might frequently be noted to favor her sword or her guns or her 
  instruments.

Webb answers as he pinches the material of his own suit, "They're basically 
  both insulating suits that we use when diving... Wetsuit is so named because 
  you still get wet. They come in various weights. Dry-suits are used when the 
  water is right frigid. In conditions like that, you have to keep the water 
  off of your skin... They're almost like a space-suit."

Shenner makes a dubious face, then eyes the water and mutters, "Well, I guess 
  the water ain't all that cold, no..." Then she looks back at you, squaring 
  her shoulders metaphorically if not literally, and manages a crooked grin. 
  "Okay, got it. So what do we do first?"

Webb hefts up the dive-pack. It looks sleek and compact, but from the way Webb 
  carries it, it's probably a little heavier than it looks. "Major components 
  of the rig," he gestures to a small tank attached to the front of the 
  vest-like pack, "This is a rebreather - it basically takes the air that you 
  exhale, removes the carbon dioxide and other undesirable elements, and 
  recycles the oxygen. This little tank on the back holds air... Then below 
  it, you have a fuel cell which supplies power to the other systems, 
  especially the artificial gill, which draws water through here, and expels 
  it through here..."

All of this is certainly starting to catch Shenner's interest, for all at 
  once, the prospect of going underwater is starting to look far less scary 
  with the equipment necessary to continue breathing under the surface. 
  Breathing is good. Shenner's all for breathing. And as you explain the 
  equipment, she actually smiles broadly once or twice, and when you're done, 
  she slides you a half-sly look, murmuring as she leans close, "Show me how 
  to put this stuff on?"

Webb grins back to you in a vaguely lopsided fashion as he holds up the pack, 
  "Sorta like putting on an armored vest... head goes through the top hole, 
  then you do up these catches on the sides beneath your arms."

The singer duly begins slipping things on, trying to tell herself that she's 
  dawdling to better give you a chance to supervise what she's doing -- but 
  then again, her body _is_ very close to your own, and even when she slips 
  the mask over her face the green of her eyes is undimmed in brilliance. She 
  does each catch, and at last blows out a breath as she tries to settle the 
  air tank into place. "Guess this is as ready as I'm gonna get," she says 
  ruefully then, and pivots around as gracefully as she can when laden down 
  with diving gear. "How do I look, huh?"

Webb checks each of the catches, which the way that Webb does it, entails him 
  slipping his hands beneath your arms, and sliding them down the sides of 
  your torso. He then spends a moment or two adjusting certain catches for a 
  looser fit, and certain ones for a tighter fit, then performs more 
  'testing', which involves slipping his fingers between the utility webbing 
  that holds the gear together, and the material of your suit. "Oh, I think 
  you're looking pretty good," comments Webb slyly. This did, apparently serve 
  more purpose than to give him a reason to run his hands over much of your 
  torso, for once properly adjusted, the pack seems to fit quite naturally.

It would seem something of a shame to try to get frisky right here on the 
  beach after having gone through so much trouble to get all this gear on -- 
  but still, self-restraint doesn't extend quite far enough to keep the 
  redhead before you from giving you a long ardent glance. "That'd be mutual," 
  she tells you, and then, at last, she reluctantly peers again at the waves. 
  "Now what?"

That moment of eye contact has the effect of drawing out time. Several sets of 
  waves roll up the shore as his hands warm your skin through the material of 
  your swimsuit as his breath conveniently tickles a spot on the side of your 
  neck. And finally, he relents, reaching for the regulator which hangs 
  against your chest, connected by various tubes to the breathing pack. It 
  emits a quick blast of air as Webb pushes down upon a pressure switch. "You 
  breath through this mouth-piece... it has a sort of a two way pressure 
  switch which responds to the air pressure exerted when you inhale and 
  exhale. So there's a /little/ bit of resistance. You basically stick this 
  bit into your mouth, and bite down gently on this little bit here to hold it 
  in place..."

Okay, it's official, this is weird. Before she's willing to put this thing in 
  her mouth, though, Shenner frowns at it. "I won't be able to talk biting on 
  it... you're gonna be..." Right there? Watching out for her, under the 
  water? Not like she's going to actually _ask_ this, but still, the need for 
  assurance might well be heard lurking under her voice.

Webb responds in a soft, sincere tone, "Right next to you the whole time... 
  but, yeah, these things don't exactly permit you to speak. Even if they did, 
  radio waves don't work well underwater... we'd have to be tethered to talk 
  to each other. So, we're using hand signals instead."

Trying not to look too skittish, Shenner bobs her head. "Okay, got any signals 
  in mind?" She eyes the breather, holding it, then looks up to you again. 
  Something of her tension drains out of her eyes at that tone you take with 
  her.

Webb grins a little runs through a few basic signals, most of which pertain 
  movement in a given direction, a basic 'thumbs up' to indicate that 
  everything is good. Yes and no are basically the same below water as they 
  are above water, and consist of shaking or nodding of the head. "Distress is 
  an easy one... just wave your hands about and look really distressed. But if 
  you just need to stop and rest for a bit, make a fist... when you're ready 
  to continue, make a rolling motion with your hand like so..."

"Got it..." Well, it's now or never, huh? The gear's in place, she's probably 
  as briefed as she's going to get, and that water's probably not going to get 
  any warmer with the night's passage. Shen grins sheepishly, her mask in 
  place, and her last words before she pops the breather into her mouth are 
  "Let's do it...!" Oh, sure, she sounds nervous... but how much worse than 
  singing to a crowded room can this be, huh?

Webb grins lopsidedly as you pop the breather into your mouth and adds, 
  "You'll want these." Diving fins... yes, those would be helpful. Then he's 
  attaching some kind of small electronic device to your pack by a rugged 
  datacable, and explaining, "This'll tell you how deep we are... not like 
  we're going down all that far tonight. It'll also alert you to surface if 
  you start to run low on juice..." After taking a moment to secure and check 
  his own gear, he tucks his swim fins under his arm and starts down towards 
  the surf, "Ordinarily we'd mark our presence with dive flags, but in this 
  case we're staying within the public swimming area, so it's not needed."

Shen makes a face behind her mask at the fins, and makes another face as she 
  tries to get used to the taste of canned air -- but she nods readily enough 
  nonetheless. Her last sign of nervousness before she lets herself start 
  wading into the water is a brief, fleeting clasp of her slender strong hand 
  upon your shoulder. And then she's pausing to get those fins on... and then, 
  she's wading cautiously out into the waves.

The last item that Webb passes to you is a facemask of sorts, that covers the 
  eyes and the nose to keep the seawater out... it also has a small light 
  clipped to the side, which is handy for working in conditions that aren't 
  the brightest, "We'll start small... just to get you used to the feeling... 
  we'll go out until the water is almost up to your shoulders, then we'll go 
  under for five seconds, and come back up." He lowers his own mask, the light 
  clicks on, then he's donning his fins, and after that, you feel his hand 
  upon your arm, reassuring you that he'll be there.

Be-finned, be-masked, and be-... er, be-breathered, Shenner bobs her head in 
  acknowledgement. Her progress into the water is careful, not due to any 
  activity of the waves -- though certainly the waves are active enough -- but 
  rather due to the need to get used to the weight upon her back. She's 
  carried more gear than this before, to be sure, but it's been some time 
  since she had to do it. And then the water is rising up fast around her, and 
  she pauses soon enough with the salt water swirling around her shoulders. 
  Her masked face turns around to find yours, inquiringly.

Webb lifts his regulator to his mouth, and draws a few breaths through it, 
  then gives you the thumbs up signal. And with that, he starts to sink into 
  the water, and has slipped beneath the surface with barely a ripple. He's 
  still there of course, just beneath the surface... the light from his mask 
  confirms that much.

Much to Shenner's delighted relief, she doesn't experience the momentary inner 
  chill that's sometimes plagued her when confronted with even remotely deep 
  water. Perhaps it's your presence... and perhaps it's the knowledge that 
  this time, she'll not only be able to see what she's doing, she'll be able 
  to breathe as well. Regardless, she finds herself no more nervous than she 
  ever gets when entering a place she's never sung in before, and in moments, 
  she's submerged along with you. _Weird!_

The view is substantially clearer when the water isn't actually getting into 
  your eyes... that's one thing that's immediately noticeable as being 
  'different'. The other is that you don't have the same natural tendency to 
  bob up to the surface like you do when you're swimming without any gear. In 
  fact, you seem to be in a state of neutral bouyancy, where you don't sink of 
  rise unless you do something to make it happen. Must be a feature of that 
  pack that you're wearing. It's also pretty quiet... just the soft hiss of 
  the regulator each time you breath in or out, and the soft sounds of the 
  waves interacting with the beach. With the moon out, the water doesn't seem 
  nearly as dark from underneath as it does from above. Webb stands out clear 
  as day. He's giving you the thumbs up signal, and that look in his eyes is 
  most certainly some sort of delight.

Five seconds is just enough time, really, to absorb the newness of all this, 
  before she needs to return to the surface. Back up again Shenner goes, her 
  motions gaining a bit more confidence. She can handle this. It might even be 
  fun. For a moment she grins to herself, as soon as her head breaches the 
  water. And then she gives you the thumbs up, before glancing out to the 
  stretch of water before her.

Webb emerges from the waves a moment or two after you do, and pops the 
  regulator out of his mouth as rivulets of water run down his mask, "Kinda 
  gives you a different perspective, doesn't it?" Now that you can actually 
  see that part of his face, he is in fact revealed to be grinning rather 
  broadly.

Out comes Shen's own regulator, and she's grinning now as well, bemusedly. 
  "It's... cool," she pipes, sounding pleasantly surprised. "How long we gonna 
  go down now?"

Webb turns to look out towards the waves, "You ready to try actual free 
  swimming? I mean we could out just a bit and loop back... you can tell me 
  when you want to come back up. With a moon like this, there certainly ought 
  to be a lot to see down there." Yeah, he just might be trying to tempt you 
  there...

And it's working, too. "Okay... let's give it a shot," is the singer's reply. 
  Another square of her shoulders. In goes the regulator. And with that, she 
  starts wading further out into the waves. There's a momentary flash of 
  nervousness in her emerald eyes, but it -- along with the rest of her face, 
  vanishes quickly enough as she starts getting out into water deep enough to 
  go over her head. _Don't freak don't freak... I can breathe, it's okay!_

Webb nods, seemingly in approval as he explains, "We're not going out too far 
  or too deep... I'll make anything within the swim markers fair game... but 
  beyond that, we'll have to do that in daylight, and preferably after a 
  little more shallow water practice. Fair enough?" As he says this, he makes 
  one more check that little dive computer that he attached to your gear, then 
  does the same with his own as he starts to lift his breather to his mouth.

Just before she goes under entirely -- and as she discovers that treading 
  water while laden with scuba gear is _not_ a skill she can master right now 
  -- the very top of Shen's head bobs in acknowledgement. By way of 
  underscoring her hand comes up, thumb lifted... and then, she's under, a 
  trail of bubbles marking her passage as she turns a marvelling gaze upon the 
  underside of the waves.

That trail of bubbles is pretty tiny, thanks to the fact that most of the air 
  that you exhale is reclaimed. The waste air that is expelled resembles the 
  fizz rising to the surface of a glass of soda. This has the advantage of 
  leaving your ears open to the sounds of the ocean, particularly the swish of 
  Webb's fins as a few kicks of his feet bring him up alongside you. The water 
  is fairly clear here, of course... although the interface between tide and 
  sand forms a soft cloud of sediment in the really shallow parts, which are 
  mostly behind you. Moonlight filters easily through the waves, casting 
  rippling patterns across the sand below, which has been sculpted into 
  shallow waves of its own by the action of the tides.

It's like... moving through a dreamscape that's come to life. Down here under 
  the surface of the water Shen can feel the motions of each little current 
  over her skin; that, and the gleam of water-dappled moonlight silvering her 
  limbs, is almost enough by itself to stop her in wonder. Then she turns her 
  astonished gaze upon you. The scuba gear detracts slightly from the sudden 
  romantic fancy that's seized her -- but not entirely. Shen can't exactly 
  embrace you down here, unused to the gear as she is, but she can and does 
  impulsively reach to seize your hand. With her other, she gestures hopefully 
  outward. She wants to see more!

Webb's hand curls gently to embrace your own as he liesurely drifts alongside 
  you. The fins that he gave you might make the whole business of walking 
  about somewhat clumsy, but they do have the effect of allowing you to leave 
  the business of propulsion to your legs, and allow this whole business of 
  holding hands as the two of you drift along. Webb has actually rolled onto 
  his side to watch you as you move through the water, and his hand applies a 
  gentle caress to your fingers. As the two of you drift a little further out, 
  there's more room to manuever. You're now in water about twice as deep as 
  Webb is tall. The tidal effects are decidedly diminished now... and 
  something out there moves... tiny and fast, producing a soft flicker of 
  silver as it catches the moonlight.

What? What was that? Shen, attention seized, swivels her head about in 
  startled pleasure to try to get a better look. Fish? _Well, of -course- it's 
  fish, laser-brain, this is a freggin' -ocean-,_ she tells herself -- but 
  still. But the easy way you're moving in the water is seizing her attention 
  too, and she can't help a twinge of envy. Hmm. Her hand caresses yours back 
  for a moment, and then she frees it, flailing both of her hands to each side 
  for a moment as she tests her balance. Then she hunkers down on the bottom 
  beneath her finned feet, and tries to push off.

Well, it's not just /a/ fish... soon there's yet another flash, then a few 
  more, before shapes become vaguely discernable. The fish that you saw is 
  probably about eight centimetres long and highly streamlined. Being of such 
  a size would make them fairly low on the food chain, and it soon becomes 
  apparent that this fish is huddled together with several hundred little fish 
  just like it in a protective formation. This cloud of fish seems to change 
  direction as one, provoked by your sudden movement, and all at once they're 
  presenting their silvery sides to you. Webb looks to you for a moment, then 
  starts to slowly ease towards the school of fish, beckoning you to follow.

By the Original Light. She's _swimming_, Shen realizes with a little thrill 
  shooting through her system. She's entirely underwater, and she's still 
  swimming. Granted, she's about as agile in the water as your average Super 
  Star Destroyer, but at the moment that doesn't matter to the redheaded bard. 
  Hands and feet splaying out ungracefully in this and that direction, she 
  finally somehow manages to establish a rhythm and then wallows through the 
  water after you, enchanted by that floating horde of silver specks.

Though these darty little fish seem much more at home in the water than humans 
  (even Webb... after all, they were born here, he wasn't), their small size 
  means that they can't really muster all that substantial of a velocity. 
  Thus, Webb is able to approach the mass of fish... the task is actually made 
  easier by the fact that they're content to simply swim around him rather 
  than trying to outrun him. Besides that, as big as Webb is compared to them, 
  his light still seems to be a source of fascination to them, until Webb 
  makes a particularly sudden movement with his hands (which the fish seem to 
  find more threatening them Webb as a whole) sending the whole school darting 
  towards you. The school parts quite abruptly into two paths, and skitters 
  around you effortlessly to merge again once past you. It's becoming apparent 
  just how a predator could find this sort of thing confusing.

Even with the regulator securely in her mouth, Shenner gasps at the sight of 
  scores of tiny silver lifeforms surging past her. Her head darts this way 
  and that as she tries to see as many of the fish as she can, and since she 
  can't exactly laugh aloud down here she has to settle for simply gazing at 
  the diverging school in wide-eyed wonder through her mask... well, gazing, 
  and the impulse to try to see if she can duplicate their behavior. Her hand 
  darts up in a similar motion to your own, letting her split a third, smaller 
  eddy off from the school, and she can't help but grin even with the 
  regulator in her mouth.

Webb slowly propels himself back to your side as the schools of tiny fish 
  merge back into a single school. Their movements become more liesurely once 
  they have managed to put a metre of distance between themselves and the 
  mysterious intruders into their realm. Other patterns to their movements 
  become discernable, like their tendency to gravitate towards clouds of what 
  first looks to be specks of debris floating in the water, until it becomes 
  apparent that even these are moving under their own power.

Enthralled, Shenner watches them for as long as she can, and then turns back 
  to you eagerly, looking for a cue. Where now? Which way? She can't ask it, 
  and so she tries to relay it with her body language, glancing inquiringly 
  this way and that; with one hand, she seizes yours again, and with the other 
  she gestures through the water, childlike, hopeful. Loss and pain and war 
  over the last few years have done much to catapult Shen Veery into adulthood 
  -- yet still, here and now, there's still a child easily dazzled by exciting 
  new discoveries lurking somewhere behind her eyes. Perhaps later, she'll 
  think about everything she's observing, remember details, maybe even put 
  something to music -- with her namdhi-harp, perhaps, for the fluid world in 
  which she is now immersed requires fluid music. But for now... she's simply 
  revelling in the seeing.

One of the things about diving is that once you're down, you don't necessarily 
  have to travel fast or far to see more. Life tends to attract life, after 
  all, as demonstrated by the shoal of tiny fish feeding upon the clouds of 
  plankton. So Webb seems quite unhurried. He reaches out to take hold of your 
  hands, then with a few kicks of his flippered feet, he sets the two of you 
  drifting towards a new destination, and spinning slowly. It's almost 
  reminiscent of dancing, and in the spirit of such, he draws you closer, and 
  gazes through the faceplates into your eyes. Meanwhile, a flatfish bursts 
  from the sand and skitters across the bottom, disturbed by your approach.

Shenner has danced in the Free-Flight Dance Dome on Etti IV -- but despite a 
  zero-g field being not unlike this underwater world she now occupied, she 
  hadn't ever tried to dance on Etti IV with scuba gear on her back and fins 
  upon her feet. Nor has she ever tried to dance with no sound but her own 
  inhalations and exhalations to give her rhythm. Her hands taken, Shenner 
  flails after you as she is pulled into your wake, and you can spy her eyes 
  gone wide and wondering through her mask and through your own.

Indeed, many of the sensations are similar to free-fall... except the medium 
  through which you are passing has significantly more resistance to it. This 
  has the effect of slowing the spiralling motion of the two of you into an 
  almost graceful swirl. The look in Webb's eyes makes it quite clear that 
  Webb would be smiling to you, were he not breathing through the the 
  regulator at the moment. Then he gives a quick glance over his shoulder, and 
  starts to open the embrace once again, apparently for the purpose of 
  navigation. It seems the two of you are drawing closer to an interesting 
  feature, after all... here the sandy bottom is broken by rock about the size 
  of a four person landpeeder. It's quite encrusted with barnacles, anenomes, 
  shellfish, and other invertebrates.

With the overwhelming size of the galaxy and the number of planets who seem to 
  favor one environment over another -- the desert of Tatooine, the snows of 
  Hoth, the swamps of Dagobah -- sometimes it is all too easy to forget about 
  the rich diversity of life that exists upon one's very own world. Shenner 
  has seen a number of alien species, and is learning about the languages and 
  music of half a dozen more -- but it seems to her at the moment that she 
  can't think of a single creature that's impressed her quite so much as the 
  weird and intriguing things that live upon that rock. Squeezing your hand 
  excitedly, she flap-paddles as swiftly as she can over to get a better look, 
  drawn by the color of some of those starfish and tracing out their shapes in 
  the water -- half for the childlike pleasure of trying to impress the shape 
  of them upon her consciousness, and half for the sheer hedonistic feel of 
  the water moving against her skin. As she goes, she flashes a glance back at 
  you, eyes bright.

This rock mound seems to be quite a significant locale, at least as far as the 
  aquatic ecosystem is concerned. Its already irregular surface is pitted by 
  aquatic erosion, and a deep crack runs through the middle of the rock. What 
  this amounts to is shelter for any number of smaller creatures, and an 
  anchor for various sedentary life forms. A large sponge, almost as big as a 
  beverage keg, blossoms from one end of the rock, while strands of kelp have 
  entrenched themselves here and there. Webb shines his light into one of the 
  holes to reveal a spiny lobster, which backs away from the light shyly.

Impulse _almost_ leads Shen to reach out a finger to touch that 
  fascinating-looking sponge -- but only almost. If there's anything a trek 
  through a dangerous jungle taught her, it's not to put her fingers near 
  something she doesn't absolutely know to be safe, not to mention she doesn't 
  want to damage those fragile-looking colorful fronds of growing things if 
  she can help it. The lobster distracts her anew, and her head swivels around 
  to bring her gaze to the fellow as he tries to retreat into shelter. _Hi 
  there, guy,_ she thinks at it, tilting her head a bit to try to get a better 
  look. _Sorry about any of your brothers I've eaten, huh? No hard feelings?_

The beam from Webb's light flashes back and forth along the rock, pointing out 
  the various hiding spot in the rocks irregular contours. Some are empty, but 
  apparently this rock is a popular place for many of the less nocturnal 
  species of fish to take shelter, while other species seem quite active, 
  particularly crustaceans like the spiny lobster. Elsewhere, tiny crabs and 
  shrimp can be seen picking algae off of the rocks, grazing like cattle. They 
  seem quite undisturbed by your presence, though the spiny lobster retreats 
  back into its the depths of its hole.

Quite contentedly, Shenner loses herself for a while in thoroughly studying 
  the rock and its denizens, She's been similarly captivated by some of the 
  things she's come across in the forest visiting Jairen -- for her, the 
  opportunity to actually watch animals in their native habitat is strange and 
  wonderful enough that she wants to take as much time as she can. But at 
  last, her hand closes around yours again and she looks up inquiringly to 
  you, trying to figure out what might next be in store.

From one of the utility pockets upon his vest, Webb pulls out a pair of sealed 
  plastic zipper bags filled with smelts. Or, in less technical terms, small 
  fish, each about the size of one of Webb's fingers. These fish are used in 
  certain local dishes (particularly in fishing villages along the coast), and 
  are also used for bait by fishermen. It's a handy arrangement, really, 
  because if you don't catch anything, you can always serve up your bait and 
  call it food. Webb squeezes your hand gently for a moment, then passes one 
  of the bags over into your free hand.

Wait. What? A bag of fish? What in the world is she supposed to do with this? 
  It might also be noted that Shen is rather bemused in general by the 
  bizarrity of floating in water while holding a bag of fish... but well. The 
  singer cocks her head in obvious interest, watching you for further cues and 
  wondering if this means what she thinks it does: that there's something 
  around here that might actually permit itself to be fed.

Indeed, this does seem to be what Webb is getting at. Releasing your hand from 
  his, he carefully opens the zipper bag a little, and reaches in to pull out 
  one of the smelts, grasping it by its tail. Many fish, particularly those 
  which hunt nocturnally, typically have a pretty good sense of smell, after 
  all, and not everything about this little oasis of life seems to be 
  sleeping. It seems as if Webb gets attention the moment the seal on that bag 
  is cracked. The first fish on sight is about the size of his hand, and of a 
  relatively common shade of blue grey, with vertical stripes to break up its 
  outline. It flashes into view inquisitively, circling about in a fashion 
  reminiscent of an excited puppy. Soon there's about a half dozen of at least 
  two different species (the other of which is reddish orange, and of slightly 
  different body shape). Releasing the dead smelt to its fate, Webb pulls his 
  hand back and watches as a small frenzy ensues, in which the smelt is torn 
  to pieces, and gulped down bit by bit.

Feeding birds on the beach or rodents in the parks scattered here and there 
  across the city is one thing; feeding fish under the surface of the ocean? 
  This is something entirely different. Shen's eyes light up behind her mask 
  -- though, granted, this is rather difficult to determine in the watery 
  environment she currently occupies. But what can't necessarily be easily 
  gleaned from her face is quite readable instead in the eager motions she 
  makes in mimicry of you. Soon enough she has summoned her own coterie of 
  eager piscines, and in rapt fascination she watches them make short work of 
  the smelts she offers them. Tiny clouds of red bursting into being in the 
  midst of the feeding fish hold her attention, and for a moment she finds 
  herself relieved that the food-fish aren't any bigger than they are; 
  otherwise, the blood in the water might be ever so slightly unnerving.

They've also been dead for a while, meaning that they tend not to bleed 
  profusely... at least not red. But still, they tend to leave behind little 
  clouds of fish-bits, only to be consumed by smaller, daring fish that dart 
  to and fro among the larger ones. They're very efficient about what they 
  do... trailing in the wakes of the larger fish, feeding off of white flecks 
  of smelt almost too small to see with the naked eye. One by one, Webb feeds 
  his smelts to the horde which grows in both number and variety, including 
  some of rather spectacular colour and general appearance.

And, watching all of this, Shenner grows positively enraptured -- though a 
  trifle unnerved by the proximity to which some of those fish are drawing 
  near. But then... nothing too large or intimidating seems to be in this 
  horde of colorful fishes, and soon even the occasional brushes of fins 
  against her hands lose become simply strange, and not unsettling. Eagerly 
  she helps you feed the gathered school, a few extra bubbles escaping her as 
  she tries unthinkingly to voice her fascination -- and is reminded that 
  she's got a regulator in her mouth. Soon enough, her supply of smelts is 
  consumed.

Indeed, with the presence of food in the water, the fish seem to have lost so 
  much of their shyness. Several opportunities actually present themselves to 
  reach out and touch some of the slower-moving species. Webb demonstrates 
  this rather dramatically as a juvenile leopard shark, which is perhaps a 
  shade under a foot and a half long, lazily cruises into view at about ankle 
  level. It's by far the largest fish that has been attracted by this little 
  feeding, and perhaps the one that seems least concerned with the presence of 
  the human visitors. As it swims, it moves in a zig-zagging motion, probing 
  with its snout in an almost canine fashion, but for the moment, it finds 
  nothing but the tiniest scraps which are only really fit for the smallest 
  fish. It seems almost dejected, until Webb offers forth his final smelt to 
  it, dangling it before its nose...

Shark? Wait... SHARK! Though she intellectually understands that you'd have 
  given her the alert well before anything dangerous was about to head into 
  the vicinity, Shen is still more than a bit startled as that comparatively 
  sizeable creature prowls into view. And when you dangle that last smelt down 
  for the young shark, Shen's hand shoots over to grab at your other arm in 
  reflexive surprise. She might not be able to say so, but her intent is 
  clear: 'Ohmigods, Jon, lookit that, what're you doing?!'

Even after you tug upon his arm, Webb seems relatively calm and unalarmed by 
  the presence of this fairly tiny shark. After all, it's only about as long 
  as his forearm... or at least that's apparent once it's drawn close enough 
  that you actually have a frame of reference by which to compare it. And once 
  it detects that last smelt, it's all too willing to get nice and close. As 
  the leopard shark draws within inches of his hand, he releases the smelt to 
  its fate, and unerringly, the shark opens its mouth as its eyes roll back. 
  In the light of Webb's glow-lamp, it's easy to see that this thing has 
  teeth, but they're quite tiny. Then the smelt is simply gone with one gulp, 
  and the shark is cruising past, but as it goes, Webb runs his fingers along 
  its spotted skin. He's actually petting it. And once it's passed, he turns 
  to look at you, one corner of his mouth pulling up despite the presence of 
  the mouthpiece.

Ahem. Er. Well. Not that she was _nervous_ or anything, you understand! Thank 
  goodness for the water and the mask helping keeping her from blushing. More 
  relieved than she'd ever admit to get plenty of visual evidence that the 
  shark was pretty much harmless, Shen lets herself actually indulge in the 
  treat of getting a good look at it -- and marvelling at your own apparent 
  comfort at dealing with the creature. _I've got a boyfriend who pets 
  -sharks-,_ she thinks, and the thought wants to make her laugh out loud. 
  Between that and the grin you're shooting her, she squares her shoulders and 
  then pretends to shrug them negligently. Nervous? Who? Her? Naaah. But she 
  also dips her head down a little and then peeks up at you sheepishly through 
  the faceplate, ready for a pointer as to what to try next.

Behind his mask, Webb winks, and decidedly slyly at that. The fish that 
  gathered for feeding have mostly dispersed, except for the smallest ones 
  which pick dust-sized remnants of smelt from the water, and the leopard 
  shark which cruises about in a lazy circle. After all, it can still smell 
  dead fish, and this merits a thorough search to make sure that nothing as 
  been missed. Webb shrugs a shoulder faintly, then shines his light onto his 
  chronometer so that you can see the time. "Back to shore..." he hand 
  signals, with another gesture to indicate that it's merely a question, not a 
  statement.

Truth be told, Shenner can easily deal with that. She bobs her head, her 
  senses brimming with everything she's seen and experienced down here -- a 
  breather, she decides, would be good. By way of punctuation, she slips her 
  hand through one of yours.

Webb turns towards shore as he readily accepts the grasp of your hand. He's 
  peering at you out of the corner of his mask. A few gentle kicks of his 
  flippered feet start the two of you liesurely drifting back towards 
  shallower water.

Off, then, through the relatively dim blue-gray watery murk. Shenner follows 
  trustingly and readily beside you, though she is not at all as graceful, not 
  down here. She catches that peering of yours, though there's not much 
  reaction you can read out of her until the two of you finally broach the 
  surface. No sooner does Shenner's head break into the night air above the 
  waves does she pop out her regulator and cry, "Holy suns, Jon, that was... 
  damn! I mean..." Stunned and marvelling, quite apparently, is her mood of 
  the moment. She continues in that vein as the water grows shallow enough to 
  wade in rather than swim, and as she flounders her way back to the beach. 
  "I've never seen anything like... and that _shark_, that was a shark, right, 
  I've seen 'em in holos and some of the bio programs... daaaaaaamn!"

Webb takes a moment to remove his fins, before he begins to wade up out of the 
  waves. Pushing up his mask, and removing his regulator reveals him to be 
  grinning broadly, "A juvenile leopard shark... he's harmless... basically a 
  fish eater and a scavenger. Think I've run into that one before a couple of 
  times. That rock is a popular spot for him." Webb seems quite casual about 
  the encounter, but more than happy to explain the details, "They get about 
  four feet long, but they tend to mind their own business. Sometimes we get 
  nurse sharks in close to the beach, but they're not really nocturnal... they 
  eat a lot of shrimp and crabs. And there's dogfish... mostly harmless. Only 
  'attack' I've heard about on this beach is when some tourist pulled a nurse 
  shark's tail, and it bit his ankle."

Shen pauses, her mask askew atop her crown of wet auburn hair, to gape at you 
  in apparent disbelief at this recitation of obvious familiarity with the 
  local aquatic fauna. "Four feet?!" comes out of her in something of a 
  squeal, before she abruptly coughs and adds in a much more normal voice, 
  "Um. I mean, that's very fascinating. I had no idea we had that sort of, ah, 
  er, lifeform this close to the beach!" No, no nervous bards here.

Once free of the water, Webb drops his flippers onto the sand, and sets about 
  the task of removing his dive pack. "The big ones don't like shallow water," 
  he reassures, "Except the nurse sharks... sometimes we get five footers in 
  close to shore at certain times of year, but all they want to do is root in 
  the sand. They're kinda cute actually." At this point, one might suspect 
  that Webb is teasing just a touch... in fact, it shows rather clearly in his 
  eyes.

Hrmph. Catching that light of teasing in the blue-gray gaze upon her, Shen 
  can't wax quite as grumpy as she'd like, but she still manages to grumble, 
  "Well, good, 'cause if that creature had bitten your fingers off I'dve had 
  to kick that cute ass of yours, soldier, and these things ain't exactly 
  built for ass-kickin'!" She holds up a flippered foot by way of 
  demonstration, then makes a small face and attempts to delve the mysteries 
  of how exactly to get her gear off.

Webb pulls off his own vest, and deposits the rig upon the beach, then slides 
  up behind you so that he can help you out of yours. "I'll take that to mean 
  that we're gonna have to do this again," he murmurs into your ear with 
  vaguely impish intonations as he reaches beneath your arms to help you undo 
  the catches.

A slightly... lesser hrmph. Abruptly acutely aware of your proximity even more 
  than she'd been to that of the shark -- because after all, she's had a lot 
  more experience attuning herself to your nearness -- Shenner looks up at you 
  without the hindrance of facemasks to block your features from her own or 
  vice versa this time. And you can easily catch the small sheepish quirk of 
  her mouth warring with a glimmer of interest in her deep green eyes. 
  "Well... s'long as you ain't plannin' on actually losin' any fingers. I like 
  'em where they are." She pauses a beat, then adds, the quirk turning more 
  towards a smile, "That was... pretty cool, though, yeah. That was a great 
  present, Jon. I ain't never done anything like that before."

Webb listens attentively as he undoes each of the catches which hold your dive 
  rig onto your torso. The movements of his fingers have taken on a certain 
  delicacy as they drift from catch to catch until the last one is open. Then 
  the rig is lifted from your shoulders, and deposited on the sands beside 
  his. Then his hands are tracing out that same path once more, sliding up the 
  side of your torso where the catches once were, except now there's just that 
  thin layer of swimsuit there. He tilts his head back for a moment, to gaze 
  up at the night sky. "Is it just me," he murmurs, "or do we have this whole 
  stretch of beach to ourselves?"

Shen helps with the rig removal as best she can -- though in a few places her 
  help is best given by keeping her hands out of your way. But the particular 
  way with which you're moving your hands, combined with the soft whisper of 
  your voice, solitude, and stars glimmering high overhead... all of these are 
  starting to chase sharks and coral and the whole strange newness of diving 
  from her immediate list of things requiring attention. The young singer 
  draws closer to you, seeking warmth, seeking contact. And she murmurs back, 
  "Don't think it's just you...!"

Webb's gaze diverts over towards his dufflebag for a moment, before his lips 
  brush lightly against the damp skin upon the side of your neck. "I have a 
  blanket to keep us warm," he points out, his voice drawing quieter, taking 
  on the gentle tones of the ocean, "And we could make a fire..." His hands 
  slide about to rest upon your abdomen, fingers delicately tracing out the 
  contours of that area of the front of your torso.

"We... could do that, yeah," Shen breathes, her head tilting back slightly, 
  while the rest of her seems to become inclined to lean towards you. One of 
  her arms curls about your waist, and for a moment or two it seems to her to 
  be very tempting to snuggle up right against you. Allowing herself to do so 
  only close enough that she can still lift a wry gaze up to your face once 
  more, she whispers, "Does this go with the early birthday present?"

Webb's lips graze along your neck as your head tilts back, following the 
  sensitive lines of nerve tissue that lay just beneath the skin. For an 
  instant, you feel the warmth of his tongue upon your skin, before he 
  retreats from the kiss so that he might gaze down into your eyes. "Oh, it 
  can be," he whispers, his eyes becoming heavy lidded as he peers down into 
  yours. "A bit of last minute gift shopping, so to speak."

There's a subtle tautening in Shen's slim frame; it's easy, she finds, very 
  easy, to almost let herself melt against your chest. She's in excellent 
  shape -- her workouts with Jairen have insured that -- but swimming is 
  nevertheless not exercise to which she is accustomed, especially with the 
  weight of air tanks upon her back. Thus, though she's hardly in any pain, 
  her muscles are still feeling the exertion, and she's hovering somewhere 
  between physical alertness and just enough weariness to bring down a few of 
  her defenses... and render her perhaps deliciously vulnerable to the 
  determined advances of an experienced soldier. Maybe, too, she's aware of 
  this -- for she also trails one hand's fingertips along your spine while 
  lifting up the other to curl about your neck. "Mmhmm. This is soundin' awful 
  good. Do I get birthday cake?"

Webb arches an eyebrow faintly as his finger teasingly plays at the 
  shoulder-strap of your swimsuit. He winks slyly, before he gently loosens 
  himself from the embrace so that he can get the previously mentioned blanket 
  from his dufflebag. The blanket is of the warm, flannel variety, and as he 
  draws it forth and unfolds it, he says, "My dear, I think of everything."

A droll half-smirk is Shenner's reply to that as she challenges you, "Ain't no 
  way you got a cake in there, pal!" One hand gestures at the dufflebag, eve 
  as she lets her other one linger in contact with you for as long as she can 
  manage before it's absolutely necessary to break away. Reluctantly she steps 
  back, glancing this way and that to see if, in fact, you've already thought 
  of gathering firewood. She hadn't noticed any piled nearby when you two had 
  gone in the water -- but then again, she hadn't been thinking of much else 
  besides nervousness at the time. Not that she was nervous, you understand...

Webb declares triumphantly as he turns to gathering up chunks of driftwood for 
  the fire, "Chocolate, liquor laced, two layers with cherry filling, iced 
  with whipped cream, sprinkled with shaved chocolate, and topped with a 
  cherry!"

[The log was never finished, but is posted here for posterity! It can be
 assumed that Shenner and her soldier continued this little impromptu early
 birthday celebration in suitably intimate fashions. ;) End log.]