DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the
property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The
story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c)
2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
This CanÕt Be Happening
by Djinn
Chapel
rolled over in bed and nearly pushed the person next to her onto the floor.
Wait—there
was a person next to her? Oh,
shit. Not again.
She
heard him stirring, and she closed her eyes and promised the gods and goddesses
of chastity that sheÕd be good from here on out if theyÕd just beam him out of
her bed.
He
didnÕt move.
Well,
he did move. He just didnÕt
disappear. He turned and cuddled
into her, then slid his hand down her body until—oh, holy shit: there.
ÒGood
morning, Christine.Ó
ÒPavel.Ó
He
was doing sinfully good things to her with his fingers, which was a large part
of why she kept finding herself in this predicament.
ÒOh,
God, donÕt stop,Ó she said, clutching at the bed sheet below her.
ÒWhy
would I stop, Christine? When you
ask so nicely?Ó He kissed his way
down to where his fingers were, let his lips and tongue take over, and she was
lost.
Loudly
lost. Nearly breaking his neck with
her spasms lost.
Jesus,
the kid could eat out with the best of them.
And
he came up smiling. Every single time.
Easing
into her, he said, ÒWhen are you going to admit we are good together?Ó
She
wrapped her legs around him to pull him deeper in. ÒNever.Ó
ÒYou
are in love with Mister Spock. That
is what you tell yourself. But
where is Spock? Not here,
Christine. And I am. And I am willing to wager that he would
not be as good in bed as I am.Ó
The
idea that this was almost certainly true greatly disturbed her.
ÒI
have youth on my side. Boundless
energy, endless enthusiasm, and I can make you come with very little
effort. Any other woman would
consider me a keeper.Ó
ÒShut
up and fuck me, Pavel.Ó
ÒEventually,
that will not be an acceptable thing to say to me.Ó He looked at her with a sorrow she
didnÕt like, then his face changed to one of lust, and he did finally shut up
and fuck her.
Very, very, very well.
##
Chapel
saw Spock hovering, looked at him to see if he wanted to talk to her.
He
did not glance her way. He appeared
to be waiting for McCoy, or MÕBenga, or hell, maybe
goddamned Godot.
When
in the hell would she give up on him?
It was all his fault she was currently waking
up a lot of mornings with Chekov.
If Spock hadnÕt been so...curt the last time sheÕd tried to invite him
to dinner, she would never have let Pavel buy her that drink.
Or the next one.
Or the one after that.
TheyÕd
ended up in his quarters. Kissing.
SheÕd kissed him first—she canÕt blame this on him. But then somehow he had her shirt up,
her pants down, and was getting to know her body way better than sheÕd ever
planned for him to.
And
then heÕd gone down on her and all thought of leaving fled.
But
that was exactly the point—she could not let a few good orgasms dictate who she saw socially.
Okay,
not a few.
And, okay, not just good—goddamn great.
But
still, orgasms should not be the deciding factor.
She
walked over to Spock. ÒCan I help
you with anything, sir?Ó
ÒNo,
nurse, but thank you.Ó He didnÕt
even look up when he said it.
ÒSure. No problem.Ó
She
decided to go to lunch, was on her way when she saw Pavel in the corridor by
the lift.
ÒI
thought you might be hungry. We
worked up quite an appetite last night.Ó
She
rolled her eyes, but didnÕt say anything as he followed her into the lift.
ÒHold
lift,Ó he said, and crossed his arms over his chest, studying her. ÒYou just saw Spock, didnÕt you? You get a certain look.Ó
ÒSo
what if I did?Ó
ÒHe
makes you unhappy. CanÕt you see
that? You want him, and he does not
want you, and yet you keep trying.
And ultimately, you feel bad about yourself because you know you deserve
better.Ó
ÒI
didnÕt realize you were a shrink, Pav. Thanks for that assessment. Now start the damn lift.Ó
ÒNo.Ó He leaned against the wall and shook his
head softly.
ÒWhat
are we doing?Ó
ÒAn
excellent question, Christine. I do
not think your heart is in this relationship.Ó
ÒI
told you that. This is not news.Ó Her brain wasnÕt in it, either. But the rest of her body was fully on
board.
ÒI
think we should go back to the way we were. Just friends.Ó
ÒOh. Okay.Ó Had they been friends, though? She frowned as she tried to
remember.
ÒHave
I upset you?Ó
ÒNo. Friends. Fine.Ó
He
stood farther away from her than heÕd been standing lately, told the lift to
resume, and kept his gaze on the door.
ÒYou
still want to do it though, right?Ó she asked. ÒI mean even if weÕre giving it up? You still want me.Ó
ÒI
canÕt think that way, Milaya. I believe we have run our course. A man should see progress when he
pursues a woman, and I should know when not to beat my head against a
wall.Ó He glanced at her. ÒA Vulcan wall.Ó
ÒIÕm
not with Spock.Ó
ÒOh,
is that your way of saying you do not want me ending this relationship?Ó
ÒNo. ItÕs fine if weÕre just friends.Ó She could give herself orgasms like he
did—couldnÕt she?
ÒGood,
then we are agreed.Ó He led her to
the mess, and they sat with Uhura and Sulu.
Chapel
kept sneaking glances at Pavel. He
seemed perfectly fine. Not like
heÕd just called a halt to something he really wanted.
She
frowned—deeply. This should
not bother her.
So
why did it bug the hell out of her?
##
Chapel
followed Captain Kirk, Spock, and Len down the trail on the overgrown planet
that a Federation colony was supposed to have been working on. This area should be cleared, crops
planted. But the colony was in the
midst of an epidemic and they were way behind schedule.
She
looked back. Pavel and two security
officers trailed her, their weapons out.
Pav was scanning as he walked.
ÒCaptain,Ó
he said. ÒThere is no trace of any
disease here.Ó
ÒIÕm
getting the same thing, Jim.Ó Len
looked back at her. ÒYou?Ó
ÒAll
clear.Ó
ÒDamn
it all,Ó Kirk said. ÒWhere is
everyone? That distress call was
very clear.Ó
ÒOr
a trap,Ó Pavel muttered, but loudly enough to be heard.
ÒMy
thoughts exactly,Ó Kirk said, turning back to the security officers. ÒLook sharp.Ó
They
reached the edge of a clearing, a large building stood
half finished in the middle.
ÒHoly...Ó Chapel looked
away.
The
colonists were hanging from the walls, the roof, the
unfinished frame. Torn up. Bloody.
ÒAh,
Starfleet sent me more weapons. How
delightful.Ó The voice came from
well past them, in the trees.
Kirk
was already pushing Spock and Len back.
ÒEveryone down. And back up.
Watch our flank—I donÕt trust that heÕs alone.Ó
A
security officer suddenly fired, and Chekov pushed Chapel out of the way, ÒStay
down,Ó he said as he joined the security officers.
Spock
pushed Len back to join her. ÒYou
are unarmed, Doctor. Please stay
out of harmÕs way.Ó He didnÕt spare
her a glance.
She
huddled with Len in the bushes while whoever had killed the colonists was
subdued with a little help from reinforcements from the ship.
ÒDo
you think itÕs safe to go out there,Ó Len asked. ÒDonÕt really like sitting here on my
ass when I could be helping.Ó
She
shrugged.
Then
Pavel was there, a smile on his face and a deep laceration on his
shoulder. ÒDoctor, some of us could
use your attention.Ó He pointed to
where several crewmen lay. ÒThey
are worse off than I am.Ó
ÒChristine
can fix you up, Chekov.Ó Len gave
her a devilish look, then hurried off to the other
wounded men.
ÒOld
biddy. Matchmaking.Ó She half laughed, half sighed, and ran
her scanner over PavelÕs arm. ÒHow badly does it hurt?Ó
ÒIÕll
live.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not what I asked.Ó
ÒA
lot.Ó
ÒI
can heal it in sickbay. Do you want
something for the pain?Ó
ÒNo. Sometimes itÕs good to feel. Reminds you not to do stupid things that
hurt.Ó
She
looked down.
ÒIÕm
sorry, Christine. You donÕt deserve
that.Ó He looked over to where Kirk
and Spock were talking. ÒI see the
way you look at him.Ó
ÒYou
were the one who made sure I was safe—he couldnÕt have cared less. That fact wasnÕt lost on me.Ó
ÒIt
wonÕt matter though. The heart
wants what the heart wants.Ó He
gave her a game smile and joined the others.
She
looked over at Spock. He met her
eyes, his own registering nothing as he looked away—not quickly,
just...normally. As if looking at
her was not something that made him react at all.
She
took a deep breath and went to see if there was anything she could do to help
Len.
##
Chapel
sat in the mess with Sulu, watching as Chekov loaded up his lunch tray.
ÒYou
know, Christine, for someone whoÕs not interested in him, you certainly are
watching him with a great degree of intent.Ó
ÒShut
up, Hikaru.Ó
ÒCanÕt
help observing the obvious.Ó
ÒMmm hmmm.Ó She
tried to catch PavelÕs eye, but he didnÕt look her
way, just took his food out of the mess.
ÒWhereÕs he going?Ó
ÒDoes
it matter?Ó
She
took a deep breath. ÒHow much has
he told you?Ó
ÒEnough.Ó Sulu was saved from further comment by
taking a huge bite of his sandwich and chewing very slowly.
Coward.
She
sat back in her chair. ÒI see him
in the lounge. HeÕs always dancing
with someone.Ó
ÒHe
likes to dance,Ó Sulu said as soon as he was done chewing. ÒHeÕd be happy to know you care.Ó
ÒI
donÕt care. DonÕt tell him I
care. ItÕs just—I didnÕt
expect him to be quite so successful with the ladies.Ó
ÒYou
know, if you spent more time with ensigns and less time with command staff, you
might know he has a nickname: ÔGet you thereÕ Chekov.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒIÕm not
commenting.Ó
ÒOf
course not, but I hear things. HeÕs
reportedly very good at certain activities.Ó
She
shrugged; she had a feeling her eyes were sparkling, giving away that Chekov
was indeed very good at certain things.
ÒSo he gets girl after girl.
Guess heÕs a real playboy.Ó
ÒHeÕs
not a wallflower, thatÕs for sure.
But IÕve never seen him stop seeing someone the way he did you.Ó
ÒHe
told you about that?Ó
Sulu
nodded. ÒThis other stuff, these
other women—theyÕre infatuations.
Crushes and then he moves on.
You...he talked about you in a very different way.Ó
She
looked down. ÒAre you saying heÕs
in love with me?Ó
ÒI
wouldnÕt do that to him: give you that kind of power. Not when itÕs clear you only have eyes
for our first officer.Ó
She
sighed. ÒThe heart wants what the
heart wants.Ó She realized that was
what Chekov had said to her.
ÒUh
huh. And sometimes the heart is an
idiot.Ó
ÒSays
the man who lusted after Jan the whole time she was on the ship.Ó
He
held a hand up. ÒI didnÕt say I was
immune.Ó He leaned in, his
expression very serious. ÒIf youÕre
not going to give him a real chance, cut the guy a break. DonÕt watch him like you care. DonÕt give him any hope. All right?Ó
She
nodded. She didnÕt want to hurt
Chekov. He could be with whomever
the hell he wanted.
##
She
saw Spock sitting alone in the mess and took a deep breath. She wasnÕt looking for Roger
anymore. She was done messing
around with Chekov. This was the
guy she wanted, so she should just do something about that, right?
She
walked over to his table—thank God, the mess was packed—and said
softly, ÒWould you mind if I shared your table?Ó
He
looked up at her, his face a stone mask.
ÒI am working on something.Ó
He pointed to the padd he was reading from. ÒI will not be able to hold polite
conversation if that is what you are hoping for.Ó
She
knew he was just trying to set expectations. There was nothing mean in his tone or in
his eyes. He was busy. If she wanted to sit at the table he was
at, she could. She just should not
expect him to talk to her.
She
could feel her face flaming. Said
softly, ÒOh, I see a table opening up,Ó and fled.
He
did not try to stop her.
She
saw Pavel sitting in the corner. He
gave her the kind of sympathetic smile that said heÕd clearly watched her crash
and burn, then he waved her over.
She
considered taking her food back to sickbay, but there was nowhere to eat unless
she went into LenÕs office, and she usually only did that after a bad day, when
he wanted company, too.
This
had not started out a bad day.
ÒGuess
you saw that?Ó she said as she sat in the chair next to PavelÕs.
ÒSaw
what? I saw nothing.Ó His smile was sweetly goofy, his eyes
very kind as he gave her the out she probably didnÕt deserve—not from
him.
ÒFor
the record, he didnÕt tell me no.
He just...was busy, so I thought it best to leave him alone.Ó
ÒOf
course. You do not have to explain,
Christine.Ó He went back to eating.
She
was very grateful for how gracious he was being. ÒI havenÕt seen you for a while. In the lounge, I mean.Ó
ÒI
have been spending time with Liliana Dellman. Do you
know her?Ó
Chapel
shook her head. Hikaru was
right. She didnÕt know many of her
peers. ÒHowÕs it going?Ó
ÒSheÕs
a nice girl.Ó
ÒThe
opposite of me, then.Ó She laughed. It came out a little self
pitying.
He
nodded and she rolled her eyes. ÒI
am agreeing with you, Christine, not because you are not nice—although at
times, you are not—but because you are not a girl. You are a woman.Ó
ÒAnd
you like older women, donÕt you?Ó
ÒI
do. Well, to be honest, I like most
women.Ó He laughed in a self-deprecating
way. ÒWhich is not to say IÕll settle
for anything, but I am generally charmed by your gender.Ó
ÒI
get it.Ó
He
seemed to be studying her. ÒYou
like older men, donÕt you?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒAnd
taller men, I imagine. Most women
want that.Ó
She
hated that it was true of most women—and of her. What difference did it make who was
taller? Character wasnÕt measured
in centimeters.
He
finished eating his sandwich, smiled at her gently, and said, ÒIÕm not running out on you, but I have
to get back to the bridge.Ó
She
nodded. ÒOf course. Thank you for being so nice, Pav.Ó
ÒIt
is not difficult to be nice to you, Christine.Ó
##
Chapel carried the second bowl of plomeek soup sheÕd made today to SpockÕs quarters. She was still trying to figure out what
it meant that he was married.
Had
that been why heÕd stayed away from her?
And why heÕd seemed so intent on her when sheÕd come to tell him they
were headed to Vulcan?
She
rang the chime at his door and heard his ÒCome.Ó He was sitting at his desk, the terminal
crumpled beyond all recognition.
The covers on his bed were in disarray. The temperature felt about ten degrees
hotter than the last time sheÕd been in here, which wasnÕt that long ago. Plomeek soup was pretty damn quick to
make when it wasnÕt you making it, but a synthesizer.
She
put the soup on the desk, just to his side, and he looked at it but did not
reach for it.
ÒIf
I could help you, Spock, I would.Ó
ÒWe
are bound for Vulcan.Ó His words
came out labored. As if every one
required thought and intent.
ÒYes. Yes, we are. To your wife.Ó
ÒMy
wife. TÕPring.Ó His eyebrows knit down, and she realized
he might not like his wife all that much.
ÒDo
you love her?Ó she asked so softly he could ignore her if he chose.
ÒI
do not know. Perhaps, after the
consummation of our marriage...Ó He seemed to be very far away, his look almost
one of confusion ÒTÕPring once
thought highly of me, as I did of her.Ó
He looked up at her. ÒYou
loved your fiancŽ, did you not?Ó
ÒI
did.Ó
ÒAnd
yet you told me you loved me. While
you were searching for him.Ó
She
could feel her face flaming at the not so subtle criticism. ÒI told you that under the influence of
the virus. I never would have otherwise.Ó
ÒYou
dishonored him.Ó
ÒI
would have been faithful to him. I
cannot help what was in my heart.Ó
ÒI
used to think that way about Leila.
That I could not help how she moved me. That I sought no dishonor to TÕPring.Ó
Her
heart sank. Leila. That woman from the
planet with the spores.
Chapel had seen them together.
So stupidly happy. SheÕd wished she could make Spock laugh
and run and hang from trees.
She
couldnÕt even make him admit he had feelings for her. Probably because he
didnÕt. He had a wife. A wife who he was
going to as soon as they arrived at Vulcan. Would he be different when he came
back? Would he be...happier?
ÒIÕm
going to leave you alone now, Spock.
I wish you a most...happy occasion.Ó
He
nodded. ÒThank you, nurse.Ó
ÒChristine. ItÕs Christine.Ó
He
nodded, as if to say ÒYes, of course it is,Ó but he did not say it out loud.
##
ChapelÕs
chime went off and she answered it, hoping against hope that it was Spock, here
to say that he wanted her, that he loved her, that now that he was back on the
ship, being married didnÕt matter.
She
wished sheÕd been allowed to stay in sickbay, figure out why the captain had
come back seemingly dead, why Spock had been so happy to see him. But Len had kicked her out of the room,
and even if sheÕd been the kind to listen at doors, the soundproofing would
have put an end to that plan.
She
opened the door, saw Pavel, and laughed in bitter surrender. Of course it wasnÕt Spock. ÒHi.Ó
ÒHi. I wanted...I wanted to check on you.Ó
ÒIÕm
fine.Ó She moved aside. ÒCome in, though.Ó
He
walked into her quarters, looking uncomfortable, like he hadnÕt ever been in
them. ÒIt must have been a
shock—or disappointing, anyway—to find out Mister Spock had a wife
on Vulcan.Ó
ÒYou
could say that.Ó She waited to see
where he was going to sit. When he
chose the bed, she sat on her desk chair. ÒBut really, not my business, right? What he does. Just like what I do isnÕt really your
business.Ó
Pavel
studied her, his expression so lost she had to close her eyes.
ÒWhat
do you want from me? I canÕt change
how I feel. YouÕre a nice guy, Pav. YouÕre a
good man. But I love him.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó He looked down, seemed to be
fascinated by the pattern of the carpet on the floor of her quarters. ÒIÕve always known you loved him. I guess I thought if I could just...move
you somehow.Ó
ÒAnd
you did. In bed.Ó She got up and walked to him. She stroked his cheek, and he pressed
his face into her palm. ÒWeÕre
friends. Right?Ó
ÒYes. Friends.Ó He jerked away from her hand, his
expression changing to one of resolve rather than hurt. ÒChristine, I just wanted to say...IÕm
sorry. IÕm sorry he is
married. Perhaps if he were not, he
would be able to love you the way you want.Ó
ÒMaybe
so.Ó She closed her eyes. ÒIÕm so tired, Pav.Ó
ÒHaving
soup thrown at you can do that to a person.Ó He smiled—it almost looked real.
She
was not surprised heÕd heard about the soup tirade. It was probably all over the ship by
now. One more way sheÕd made an ass
of herself over Spock. ÒI made him
more soup after that.Ó
He
looked surprised—and disappointed.
ÒI see.Ó
ÒHe
asked me to. And...it was something, you know?Ó
ÒI
know. Sometimes the least little
thing is worth a lot.Ó He got up. ÒI will leave you, then. If you are tired, sleep.Ó
Her
chime suddenly went off. ÒSpock to
Chapel.Ó
ChekovÕs
face got very tight. ÒYou should
get that. IÕll see myself out.Ó
##
ÒYou
wanted to see me?Ó She felt self conscious standing at SpockÕs door this way, especially
after nearly wearing that goddamned soup with her boss and the captain looking
on.
ÒI
did. Come in, Christine.Ó
Christine? What the hell? SheÕd had to tell him to call her that
the last couple of times she was here.
ÒI
do not know how much you understand what transpired on Vulcan.Ó
ÒNot
a damn thing, because Len kicked me out of your boys-only treehouse.Ó
He
looked confused.
ÒWho
cares.
Bygones. I know this: you
were suddenly married.Ó CouldnÕt he
have just told her that?
He
nodded. ÒYes. And now I am not.Ó
He
wasnÕt? She hated how her heart
seemed to jump at the news. ÒQuickie
divorce?Ó
He
moved closer. ÒNot precisely.Ó He was looking at her in a very
unnerving way. Similar to the other
day, when sheÕd felt like bait in a trap.
ÒWhy
am I here, Spock?Ó
He
took a deep breath. ÒI was—am
undergoing the Pon Farr: the Vulcan mating drive. TÕPring, who was my wife and now is not,
did not wish to marry me so she challenged. Because I fought for her, the heat of
the battle burned off the immediate need to mate.Ó
Something
about the way he was talking made her angry, made her tone very cold when she
said, ÒSo far IÕm not hearing anything about me.Ó
ÒThe
urge is back.Ó
The
urge? The fucking
urge? ÒOh. You mean the urge...to mate?Ó
ÒYes.Ó He reached out for her, and she shied away. ÒI will not hurt you.Ó He held his hand out to her.
She
did not take it. ÒBefore, when you
had to get to Vulcan, the urge to mate was everything, right? You would have died if you had not?Ó
He
nodded.
ÒAnd
now? Will you die?Ó
ÒIt
is not that dire.Ó
ÒOh,
so you simply want to have sex?Ó
She started to laugh. ÒAnd
of course, you came to me because...?Ó
She gave him a ÒMake your answer a good oneÓ look.
ÒI
find you appealing.Ó His expression
did not change. She felt more like
meat to a hungry tiger than a woman heÕd long wanted.
ÒNow. You find me appealing now. But...later? When this is done and youÕre back to
normal?Ó
ÒChristine,
you indicated you were interested in me.
Is that not the case?Ó
ÒI
love you. Do you love me?Ó
He
stared at her as if she was a laboratory sample gone rancid. ÒEmotions are not something I am—Ó
ÒFor
GodÕs sake, Spock. I saw you with
Leila. You understand love. Do you love me? Is this the start of something?Ó
ÒI
make no promises, which is right and proper, and you would see that if you were
looking at this logically. Promises
made when one is physiologically compromised are not promises to hold faith
in.Ó
ÒCompromised? ThatÕs what this is? This need for closeness?Ó Closeness—try sex. Call it what it was. He wanted to fuck her—the same way
sheÕd fucked Chekov. It was as
empty as that—probably emptier since at least she and Pavel were trying
to be friends. For once, she had to
open her eyes and see the truth behind the words. She was a willing body. Nothing more.
He
moved toward her. ÒI am...uncomfortable. I need relief.Ó
ÒYouÕre
suffering from a bad case of horniness, Spock. ThatÕs all.Ó She took his hand, eased it down his
body till it rested over his groin.
ÒAge-old cure. Take care of
it yourself.Ó She let go of him and
took a step back.
His
eyebrow nearly disappeared into his hair as he pulled his hand up. ÒYou will not help me?Ó
She
stood a little straighter. ÒI will
not. Do it yourself. Or find someone else to use. I really donÕt give a damn.Ó
ÒMost
unexpected.Ó He did not, however,
sound very upset at the prospect of losing her, more put out that he might have
to ruin one of his socks—or go find some other willing vessel.
A
part of her still wanted to touch him, to hold him, to let him do all the
things he wanted. She didnÕt like
that part of herself very much right now.
And that part was certainly not running things. ÒGoodnight, Spock.Ó
ÒNurse.Ó
She
turned and left.
##
She
went to the lounge, still marveling that she had just left Spock alone when he
actually wanted her.
Well, when he wanted a warm body and she was in the vicinity.
Glory,
hallelujah, she did have some pride.
She
saw Pavel on the dance floor with one of the ensigns Hikaru said she didnÕt
socialize with enough. She sat down
on a couch that was near the dance floor, one that
Pavel and his woman of the minute would pass by.
He
saw her, and she gave him her sweetest smile. He looked confused.
When
they came by again, she gave him a very different smile. He looked even more confused.
The
music changed before he could go by again.
He escorted the ensign back to the group he must have snagged her from
and walked over to Chapel.
ÒChristine.Ó
ÒPavel.Ó
ÒI...did
not expect to see you. What with
SpockÕs comm...Ó
ÒThatÕs
me. Zigging
when you think IÕll zag.Ó She patted the couch next to her.
He
sat. ÒYou wish to be seen with me?Ó
She
nodded, then touched his hand. ÒIÕm sorry that I used you. That wasnÕt fair and it couldnÕt have
felt good.Ó
ÒIt
did not feel good. But Christine, I
let you use me.Ó He did not meet
her eyes.
ÒWhy?Ó
ÒBecause
I like you. I like you very
much. But I know when I am beaten.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt know shit, my dear.Ó She
leaned back, pulling him with her so he had to catch himself, ended up lounging
half on the couch, half on her.
ÒUhhh, Christine, what are you doing?Ó
ÒRobbing
the cradle.Ó She grinned at
him. ÒCare to kiss me, mister?Ó
ÒRight
here?Ó He actually looked
shocked. ÒWith everyone watching?Ó
ÒEveryone
isnÕt watching.Ó She laughed
softly. ÒAnd I know you wonÕt. IÕm counting on that because IÕm not an
exhibitionist, either. But I want
you to know that if you wanted to, you could. And if you did, IÕd kiss you back.Ó
ÒOh. Well. That is very good news.Ó He looked down. ÒIÕd ask you to dance, but I know you
like taller men.Ó
ÒI
also like older men. But since IÕm
going younger, why not go shorter?
Who says the man has to be taller, anyway?Ó She leaned in and whispered in his ear,
ÒI donÕt remember it making any difference at all when weÕre horizontal.Ó
He
started to laugh. ÒIt helps that so
much of your height is in your legs.Ó
ÒThe
better to wrap around you.Ó She
pulled away. ÒSo you want to dance
with me?Ó
He
took a deep breath. ÒI do
but...give me a minute, Christine.
I find it difficult to retain my composure when you talk about your legs
wrapped around me.Ó
She
touched his cheek, saw his eyes widen—probably at how tender sheÕd made
the touch. ÒTake as much time as
you need, Pav.
WeÕre in no rush at all.Ó
FIN