"Invitation to Corellia"

The Players: Jessalyn Valios, Paul Nighman

Introduction

After their run in with the Ewok Gree'Shah, and their run in the jungle,
Paul and Jessa return to the base to clean up and drop off a few things.
While their time in the woods was a touch awkward, they soon grow at ease
with one another again.  Jessalyn brings Paul outside to show him her
garden at night versus during the daylight.

************************************************************************

Some time after they return from their venture into the jungle, Jessalyn leads
  Paul back out into the courtyard of the ziggurat. Some of the night-blooming
  flowers have opened up their blossoms here in her garden, and she walks over
  to the fountain to rest on its edge, enjoying the fragrance filling the air
  and grateful for the lack of bright outdoor lighting which allows the stars
  to shimmer with all their brilliance like a dark velvety canopy over the
  forest. She smiles to herself and closes her eyes, leaning her hands on the
  stone rim of the fountain.

Following in her wake, Paul slows his pace, looking about and seeing the area
  in a different light - both literally and figuratively. He breathes in the
  subtly scented air appreciatively, recognizing the smell of Yavin roses ...
  from Jessalyn's throat. Smiling at the realization, he follows her to the
  fountain, sitting down casually on a stone bench, one knee raised in order
  to wrap his arms about it. He glances up at the stars and planets above,
  admiring the unfamiliar constellations and imaging what myths they might
  have been named after. He finally drops his gaze again to the woman before
  him, wondering what her closed eyes portend. "A credit for them ....?"

Feeling Paul's gaze on her, Jessa opens her eyes and turns her head to look at
  him, sliding her hands over her thighs and exhaling a slow breath. "I just
  love how quiet and beautiful it is here," she whispers. "In some ways I'm
  grateful that my assignment had me end up back where I grew up."

That is not something that Paul can relate to ... although he had to admit
  that barring a few exceptions, his last trip to Corellia had some nostalgic
  moments. There are also, however many bittersweet memories and one downright
  unpleasant one that also come to mind. Shaking his head, he murmurs, "Can't
  say I could ever live on Corellia ... least not until .... not for a long
  time."

Jessalyn hmms thoughtfully at the mention of her world -- which is not really
  her world, and draws up her own knees to hold them against her chest,
  tilting her head upward and wondering silently to herself if Corellia's star
  is visible from here. "I wish that... I had spent more time there... if only
  to see what it's like. My parents were Corellian. But I barely even know
  their names...."

"Parts of it are beautiful," Paul admits, his thoughts turning to the forest,
  the ocean, and most importantly, to Dream. An almost boyish smile curls his
  lips at the memories there. "Some if it is -very- beautiful." Glancing over
  once again at Jessa, a thought trickles down the back of his mind. He hadn't
  been relishing returning there .... and there were demons to exorcise.
  Considering Jessalyn thoughtfully, he queries, "What's your work schedule
  like this week ... are you really busy?"

She turns and meets his gaze thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she wonders
  if he is plotting what she thinks he is plotting. But she smiles slowly,
  tightening her arms around her knees, her hair and skin glowing silver in
  the starlight. "Not too terribly, no," Jessa murmurs hesitantly.

Glancing up at the stars casually, a smirk creeps across his face as he spots
  Corell shining at him. "We-eeelllll, I -do- have this shipment to take there
  ... and I -do- have a shipment to pick up, and there -is- going to be a bit
  of time between the two ... was going to be about a week, but what with my
  delay here and such it might be a few days now." Dropping his gaze back to
  emerald eyes, he murmurs, "If the hyperdrive is working, we could head there
  tomorrow."

Jessalyn raises her brows, a glimmer coming into her eyes, and she drops her
  booted feet down to the ground, clasping her knees and leaning slightly
  forward. "-We-? You really want to take me to Corellia." Her mind whirls
  with possibilities, but remembering his reaction the last time that she
  mentioned Paul's father, Jessa is afraid to bring them up with him. "Would
  you mind?"

Grinning and chuckling at her enthusiasm, Paul murmurs, "Your company would be
  a blessing ... and then you could meet some actual friends of mine ... least
  I think they're still my friends." He drops his head back thoughtfully, brow
  furrowing in serious contemplation of the concept that he has "friends", and
  then he shrugs mischievously. "Well, people with whom I have an acquaintance
  at any rate. I can show you around some ... you can see what you think of
  the place."

Pushing herself off the edge of the fountain, Jessalyn moves to stand in front
  of him, crouching down and reaching for his hand like a child asking for a
  favor. "Do you think it would be possible to find out about my parents?" she
  murmurs. "I have to admit that I've been curious for some time about finding
  out who they are... where I came from, Paul. I've always felt so
  disconnected."

As he looks into those eager and slightly desperate eyes, Paul considers for a
  moment, not liking the obvious directions that such an inquiry would take.
  If she remembers her parents names, then the easiest way to locate
  information about them would be to access the Universities records of their
  assignment to Yavin. Those would be in the Department of History and
  Xenoarcheaology. That would be Dr. Xavier Nighman's department. That would
  be his father's records. That gives Paul a moment of pause, uncertain if he
  could face the man again so soon, and virtually assured that he could not
  ask for a favor. No, there must be some other way ... city records, birth
  and death certificates. Those, however, would not be as informational as the
  records in his father's keeping. Those applications would have names,
  addresses, contacts, closest living relatives ... everything in one place.
  Swallowing with a sense of apprehension, Paul offers Jessa an encouraging
  smile and simply replies, "Of course we can find out about them ...
  definitely."

Raising up again, Jessalyn smiles, somewhat hesitantly, and tilts her head up
  to look at the blanket of stars above them. "I don't want it to be too
  much... trouble," she murmurs softly. "And... I don't want you to do all the
  work either. I mean, I can..." She glances down at him, chewing on her lip
  thoughtfully. "I can ask your father, Paul. You don't have to go to him on
  my account." She smiles slightly, reaching to touch his cheek lightly, her
  eyes going softer.

As she speaks his mind, Paul's first thought is that she read it. There is a
  corresponding ache in his gut at the very idea, and he just and quickly
  banishes it. She promised, and he believed her. _Believes_ her. His eyes
  flicker down, as he realizes that it's a natural conclusion ... but that
  there are things that need to be said ... explained, so she will understand
  the situation fully. Raising his troubled hazel eyes to her soft gaze, he
  murmurs lowly, "We may not have to speak with him at all .... the records
  may be readily available through the University's database. They would be
  the best source ... they'll have everything you could possibly need."
  Uncomfortable with the upcoming admission, Paul glances over Jessa's
  shoulder and then down again. "But if that doesn't work, I ... you will need
  to request that information from him. I'm sure it will be no problem,
  considering your past history with one another. You'll do far better than I
  would. You see .... I can't see him again ... I ... last time I saw him, I
  disowned him ...."

Seating herself on the bench beside him, Jessalyn looks down at her boots on
  the graveled path, listening to him relate the story to her. She reaches for
  one of his hands, her cool fingers sliding through his somewhat rougher
  ones. "You can talk to me about it.. if you need to," she murmurs, glancing
  at him from the corner of her eye.

He always expects her to prod, to push, but he doesn't know why. That was
  never Jessa's style. Shrugging, he murmurs, "Not much to tell ... he finally
  went too far, I finally made a decision ... that's the end of it." His words
  and tone are gruff, dismissive, but his hands turn palm up, clasping her's
  in unspoken thanks for her offer and support.

Jessalyn turns her eyes to look at his hand entwined with hers and swallows
  hard, afraid to meet his gaze... wishing she knew how to make him
  comfortable with her enough to talk about his fears, his thoughts, his life.
  He accepts her passions and desire for him, but little else, she fears.
  Lifting that hand up, she presses a kiss to the back of it, her breath warm
  against his skin. "So... you've always had a difficult relationship with
  him..."

It's funny that Jessalyn should take it personally. It isn't that Paul doesn't
  talk to -her- about himself. It's that he doesn't talk to -anyone- about
  himself. Well, at least not until about five months ago. But her gentle
  probe is not ignored, none of this part of his past a secret really. "You
  could say that ... yeah. He had no idea of what to do with me after Mother
  died ... and clearly had no interest in raising me."

Her thumb strokes lightly over his hand as she listens, nodding her head a
  little and leaning back so that she can look at his profile. "So you felt
  like you were raising yourself?" she questions gently, squeezing his fingers.

His eyes settle on hers, almost a touch hotly as he asks, "How old were you
  when you met "Uncle Xavier

Feeling absurdly guilty, Jessalyn meets his gaze almost fearfully. "I... guess
  I was about four or so," she murmurs, afraid to say anything more of what
  she can remember from so long ago."?"

Pressing further, Paul asks, "And do you recall how long it was before he
  left?"

She lifts her hand to scratch her head, the memories too vague and distant,
  and she frowns. "I... can't remember," she murmurs. "It must have been a few
  months, at least, though. But more than that I can't tell..."

"It was a year Jessa. A year. I was seven when he left, eight when he came
  back, and Mom died when I was five." Paul's face is blank, a deep seated
  anger still burning far down inside of him, but banked for so many years
  that it is only a nearly dead ember now, flaring up slightly and
  occasionally when fanned.

Jessalyn blinks in astonishment. Of course she had no clue that the kindly man
  who'd helped take care of her when she was so small had had a family of his
  own somewhere far away. The fact that Paul was left behind for so long, and
  then somehow neglected for years to come makes her heart ache for him... and
  somehow understand his hungry need to please her... and others. She closes
  her eyes slowly, her fingers tightening around his very carefully. "I'm so
  sorry," she whispers inadequately.

Oblivious to her realizations, Paul shrugs callously again. "Not your fault,"
  he observes. "In fact, if anything, that was probably the best year of my
  life with him ... I mean at least there was a good reason for why he never
  talked to me or acknowledged anything I did ... he wasn't around."

Her shoulders shrug slightly and Jessa stares down at their hands, clearing
  her throat slowly. "I guess we both felt pretty much like orphans, huh?" she
  murmurs, not daring to look at him, and finding herself wrapped up in her
  own bleak memories of childhood.

"I supposed that's true ... you by accident, and me by birth. Don't know which
  is worse ... actually -being- an orphan, or just being treated like one."
  The words are spoken without rancor, and shaking his head, Paul banishes the
  mood that has come over him. After all, he disowned the man ... he had no
  father ... so why should he be upset? Squeezing her hands in his, Paul
  states firmly, "We're gonna find your family ... and then at least you won't
  be an orphan any longer."

Smiling slightly, Jessa lifts her head to look up into his face, studying it
  in the dim starlight. "Well... we'll find their names.. maybe a little
  history. But they're long dead, Paul," she murmurs, shrugging her shoulders
  and slipping her hand from his, rising from the bench. "I don't know... what
  it would be like to be raised by them."

Shaking his head, Paul realizes that Jessa isn't getting the point. "As I told
  Shen once, having parents ain't all it's cracked up to be sometimes. We'll
  find more than their names Jess," he clarifies. "We'll get a listing of all
  of their living kin ... at least living at the time. Addresses too. They may
  not be valid any more .... I mean it's been nearly thirty years, but it's an
  excellent starting point, and I'm sure there will be more leads along the
  way."

Jessalyn can't believe that. She can't accept that she was better off being
  orphaned and never knowing what the people who brought her life were like.
  Walking over to the fountain again, she simply shrugs her shoulders, her
  back to him now. "Good. Maybe I can see what city they were from... perhaps
  even pictures..." she murmurs, her voice growing quiet and trailing off.

The silence stretches for long moments and into long minutes. Finally Paul
  rises, murmuring, "Alright then, soon as the _Wing_ is ready, we'll head
  out." Staring at the long line of Jessalyn's back, Paul can't help but feel
  responsible for bringing her down, and knows that probably the best thing
  for him to do is just to leave and give her some space. "I'll ... I'll go
  check on things now, see if I can't get it fixed," and with that he turns to
  head toward the landing pad, his brow furrowing as it seems that despite
  everything, he and Jessa are falling into old patterns yet again ...
  constantly reaching out and hurting one another ...

Jessalyn looks over her shoulder at him and bites her lower lip, not really
  wanting him to go. The old Jessa would have let him, would have run away and
  hid as she gave in to her sorrows. But this time, Jessalyn inhales a sharp
  breath and allows a tender smile to cross her face as she hurries to catch
  up with him, her fingers wrapping around his elbow. "Thank you, Paul," she
  whispers, her eyes showing her affection and gratitude. "I loved talking to
  you tonight. It's been a long time since I've been able to really talk to
  someone as a friend...."

Uncertainty flickers in his gaze at her unexpected words and actions. "You're
  not mad? You're not upset?" he asks, some of that guilt lifting as he
  wonders if he didn't completely misread her reactions.

Long lashes blink rapidly. Mad at him? Upset with him? How absurd. She might
  have been feeling a bit sorry for herself or wondered if he thought she was
  a sentimental freak for bemoaning her orphaned status, but she certainly
  held none of it against him. In fact, she laughs lightly, squeezing his arm.
  "Of course not!" She simply shakes her head. "No, Paul, I'm not at all upset
  with you."

There is a reassured light that sparks in his eyes, and laying a hand on top
  of the one she has placed on his arm, he mumbles in humble tones, "Well, I
  didn't think you were upset -at- me, but maybe -by- me." Reaching up to cup
  her face with his free hand, Paul murmurs, "But I'm glad if I'm wrong in
  that assumption ..."

"No, you didn't upset me, I promise. You may have caused me to think of topics
  that make me sad, but I don't think that's any reason for us to... to let
  these hurtful barriers go up between us," she says fervently, not really
  aware of what she's said until the words are out, and looking a bit shocked
  at them. Her eyes flicker up to his and she smiles slowly, in spite of her
  fears. "Paul...."

Rough callused fingers stroke the tender flesh of her cheek, the underside of
  her jaw. "I'm glad ... and I agree," he murmurs. "Jessa ..." he murmurs in
  echo of her calling of his name. "I think it's late and the technicians will
  all be in bed ... I can check on the _Wing_ tomorrow morning."

Nodding her head slowly as his fingers brush her cheek, Jessalyn gives a small
  smile, letting both her hands rest on his upper arms as she looks up at him.
  "And I'll help you," she chuckles. "I'm the best technician here, after all.
  I can get it fixed in no time."

A smile blossoms on Paul's lips, and leaning forward, he growls, "You little
  sneak ... and all this time you were keeping it from me. I could have been
  repaired and outta here two days ago." In punishment, he kisses her sweet
  mouth with lips that only tempt and tease, but don't deliver.

Chuckling wryly against his lips, Jessalyn's arms slide up and around his
  neck, as if wanting to tempt him downward for more. "Oh, dear. You found out
  my plot to keep you here with me," she says softly.

Paul is a most accommodating Corellian, and as her arms encourage and request
  his attentions, he is more than willing to satisfy. Dipping back again, his
  hands slip about her slender waist, their heat palpable through her clothes.
  "I always said you were a dangerous woman," he breathes against her mouth.
  "But I never knew you were so devious as well." Any protests or denials she
  might hope to make are silenced by his mouth claiming hers as if they were
  his rightful property.

Allowing her arms to slide around him more tightly, Jessa relaxes against him,
  taking a great deal of comfort from the kiss and allowing it to ebb away all
  the tensions and uncertainties brought up in the course of this long day.
  That's one thing she loves about Paul: once she's in his arms, those other
  things can melt away and become unimportant.

As she melts against him, her body softening and becoming pliant in his arms,
  Paul responds as well by drawing her even closer, rocking her hips against
  his own, his mouth delving deeper as well. He breaks away to catch his
  breath, literally and figuratively, murmuring hoarsely, "And dangerously
  desirable," in confession. Likewise, Paul forgets the strain of the day as
  he cradles this woman in his arms, baffled by her bewitchment of him.

Jessa takes a moment to open her eyes as his lips break away from hers, her
  lips parted and throbbing from the kiss. She smiles very slowly at his
  words, her hold on him only tightening as she presses her body against him
  again, her knee crooking around his leg playfully. "It's entirely
  unintentional," she assures him.

"So what you're telling me is that you just come by this skill naturally?" One
  brow cocks upward at that teasing limb and Paul rasps darkly, "Scary."

Her eyes roll upward and Jessalyn laughs, her hands drifting down to his waist
  very slowly so that she can hold his body more firmly against her, her lips
  curved into a mischievous smile. "I didn't know I had this skill at all,"
  she chuckles. "It certainly never seems like it, except for when you're
  around."

"So I bring out the best in you?" he muses with a lascivious grin. "What a
  sweet thing to say ... " The hands at her waist toy with the small of her
  back, slipping beneath her jacket and shirt to traces circles against the
  nerves there.

Surprised at what he can evoke in her, even when in public and even when she
  least expects it, Jessalyn returns that grin with a great deal of relish,
  her hands slipping to his hips almost suggestively. "That's it exactly," she
  murmurs richly, her eyes incandescent in the silvery light illuminating the
  courtyard.

"Guess that makes me a very lucky man," he purrs, shifting his hips against
  her suggestively, those hands slipping along the edge of her pants from the
  back to the front before one palm boldly slips lower. His face in shadow as
  he gazes down at her, Jessa cannot help but see the glimmer of desire in his
  gaze and he lowers his lips to her's once more. "Jedi witch," he mutters
  against her mouth before taking it again.

That emits a sharp laugh from Jessalyn, which is quickly smothered by the
  kiss, as well as by the sudden tingle going through her as his body moves
  against her. "I like making you feel lucky," she mutters playfully, coming
  up for breath.

"What a coincidence ... I like being lucky. Looks like a perfect match," he
  murmurs with a wink. Dropping his mouth to her throat, Paul Mmmmmmms there
  contentedly, noting, "You give me bad ideas .... "

Jessa's eyes glitter as her lashes slide shut over them, her head tipping back
  slightly to offer her warm, slender throat to his lips. "Feel like sharing?"
  she murmurs, her voice vibrating beneath his mouth as her hands grasp his
  hips more tightly.

Paul nips at her throat gently before glancing up, his eyes dancing with
  amusement "I dunno ... they're pretty bad ... wouldn't want to shock you,"
  he replies with a wicked smile. "Also don't know if I should play all of my
  cards .... wouldn't want to ruin the anticipation ....."

Her curiosity piqued, Jessalyn arches her brows, her gaze both thoughtful and
  full of desire as she returns his look. "Well, now I want to know!" she
  insists, laughing and cupping his cheek with one hand, amused and titillated
  all at once. "C'mon, Nighman... what's in that wonderfully alluring mind of
  yours?"

There have been so many fantasies, Paul isn't sure which one to pick.
  Something not too shocking would be good ... and he knows for sure now that
  he's going to introduce Jessalyn to Meluran oil ... but not tonight. Later.
  Save the best for last. Finally, catching up her wrists in one of his hands
  he pulls her arms over her head, holding her there easily as he brushes
  against her body, his mouth dropping to her ear to bite seductively. "Well,
  I think the silk sash on your robe is a good place to start ..."

A soft shuddering moan passes from her smiling lips as he teases her with his
  words and his mouth. Her body arches slightly to support her weight gently
  against his own. "The sash on my robe....?" she whispers back, breathless,
  and already plotting how to lure him back to her chambers before she gets
  seduced in the middle of the courtyard.

"Mmmmmm-hmmmmm," he rumbles against her neck as he trails lips and tongue
  along the length of it. "And no using your Jedi tricks ... that would be
  cheating" he warns. Then after a pause there is a dark chuckle, as he adds,
  "Or perhaps we should just save that for another time."

Feeling another shudder along her spine, Jessalyn squeezes her eyes tightly
  shut, the sensation of being helpless making her even more aware of where
  they are. But his mischievous comment and chuckle makes her give a small
  start of surprise, and she laughs tremulously. "Mmm... I think it's time to
  shift locales," she whispers. "Before I have to fight you off of me with my
  lightsaber."

Drawing back, Paul continues to hold her wrists captive and high. "Alright, if
  you insist," he rumbles mirthfully. "Never knew you were so forceful," he
  mutters against her mouth ... then laughing at his unintentional pun,
  kissing her hard before drawing back to murmur, "Sorry 'bout that," with a
  wink.

Catching her breath in the moment when Paul's lips draw away, Jessalyn smiles 
  up at him, feeling somewhat awkward and yet helplessly aroused as he holds 
  her wrists high over her head. Her lashes blink slowly, and her gaze 
  flickers toward the door in the ziggurat wall. "Come on," she murmurs, 
  "lemme go a minute, and then you can have me captive all you want when we 
  get inside."

His hand releases her, poised above her head for a moment before it drifts 
  down the length of one arm to stroke through her hair, curling his fingers 
  into the lush curls. "You're free," he whispers against her mouth.

Hesitantly, Jessalyn lowers her arms, resting her hands gently upon his upper 
  arms. "So I see," she chuckles softly, her head turning slightly to press 
  into his fingers. "And you're free to come with me, too."

"I am your willing prisoner," he teases, and taking one of her hands in his 
  own, Paul walks with Jessalyn back toward the base.

Ziggurat Chamber, Military Support Operations
In the center of this ancient structure is a huge, open-air chamber, lined on 
  all three sides with the thick gray stone walls of the ziggurat. Gazing 
  skyward, one can see the arch of green trees and thick vegetation, through 
  which are glimpses of clear blue sky and wispy white clouds -- unless it is 
  Yavin's rainy season, and heavy gray ones are hovering lowly overhead 
  instead. The brush has been cleared out through the center of the chamber, 
  allowing for a small pathway to meander through to doorways leading to other 
  sections of the structure. In the center is a small fountain, built out of 
  an iridescent stone incongruous with the somber gray of the rest of the 
  pyramid, the bottom of it lined with a brightly colored tiled mosaic that 
  shifts and glimmers beneath the swirling waters over it. Several stone 
  benches circle the fountain. The ancient walls are lined with thick 
  greenery, most of which looks like it has been fixed there for decades. 
  However, an attempt has been made to clear away some of the shrubbery from 
  one wall, and a creeping line of vineroses has been encouraged to grow, 
  throwing riot of color against the dark gray stone structure.
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Jessalyn
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <Northeast> leads to Storeroom.
 <Northwest> leads to Ravine.
 <E>ast leads to Medical Facility, Military Support Operations.
 <W>est leads to Barracks, Military Support Operations.
 <S>outh leads to Headquarters Office, Military Support Operations.

Jessalyn heads into the HQ Offices.
Jessalyn has left.


You head into the MilSupportOps HQ Office.
Headquarters Office, Military Support Operations
This small chamber is the private office for the CO of the Support Corps. 
  Along the wall to the left is a low table upon which small decorative items 
  have been placed; a glimmering blue-green geode set into a small black 
  lacquer display stand; an aromatic candle set into an intricate, 
  patina-colored holder; a glazed ceramic bowl spilling over with roses from 
  the ziggurat courtyard. Toward the center of the room are three 
  sturdy-looking chairs arranged around a desk which is topped with a computer 
  console and what looks like an eternal load of paperwork.
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Jessalyn
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <E>ast leads to CO's Quarters, Military Support Operations..
 <N>orth leads to Ziggurat Chamber, Military Support Operations.
Jessalyn heads into the CO's Quarters.
Jessalyn has left.

You head into the CO's Quarters.
CO's Quarters, Military Support Operations.
A small but comfortable looking chamber, dominated by a large window cut 
  through the thick stone of the eastern wall. A long narrow table sits 
  decoratively before it, topped with more vases of the courtyard roses. A 
  narrow bed covered with pale green and off-white patterned blankets and 
  pillows rests against the northern wall, with a small bedside table next to 
  it that supports a lamp and a datapad. A pair of similarly patterned 
  upholstered chairs are arranged near the window.
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Jessalyn
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <W>est leads to Headquarters Office, Military Support Operations.

Upon entering the room, Jessalyn turns immediately, the door sliding shut 
  behind Paul, and she presses her body to his until his back comes in contact 
  with the surface of the door. She grins up at him slowly, her eyes 
  glittering in the absolute darkness of the room, her hands busily roaming up 
  his chest.

His eyes spark briefly in surprise at Jessalyn's aggressive behavior, his lips 
  curling in delight as he wonders just who plans on dominating who this 
  evening. As her hands roam his chest, so do his her's, stroking over her 
  breasts through her clothes for a moment, and then setting about to remove 
  that impediment.

Jessalyn shrugs off her jacket and the thin shirt beneath it, and makes short 
  work of the buttons keeping her from feeling his skin as well, sliding her 
  hands beneath the fabric and looking up at the dark outline of his face in 
  the darkened room. The only sound in the room is her breath and the rustle 
  of clothing as they're discarded. And finally she murmurs, "Paul..." 
  straining upward to meet his lips.

His hands rise from her torso, one hand wrapping itself possessively and 
  predatorily against her throat ... not squeezing, but containing the ever so 
  slight threat. His other hand delves into her hair, jerking her head back as 
  she rises up to his mouth. He dips his head, but seems content to torture 
  her, allowing his mouth to graze upon all points and features of her face 
  save for her desirous lips.

Raising her brows, Jessalyn begins to get an idea what Paul meant when he 
  mentioned the sash of her robe earlier. As his hand possesses her throat and 
  his lips tease and taunt her yearning lips, she feels a strange rush, a 
  mixture of desire and need and helplessness -- even though she knows that 
  with no effort at all she could free herself and even turn the tables on 
  him, if he so much as threatened her safety. But she knows he won't. She 
  trusts him. And that trust makes her desire for him only grow -- and makes 
  her yield to his possessive hands and mouth, whimpering low in her throat.

Speaking of that sash .... Paul starts to herd Jessalyn toward the bed, using 
  his body to press her backwards, his hand dropping by the discarded robe, 
  pulling the tie from it's loops. In reward for her lack of resistance, Paul 
  captures her lips, satisfying them briefly with a kiss as the back of her 
  legs bump against the bed. Then, just as suddenly he pushes her back to fall 
  safely into the softness of pillows and sheets, moving faster than she might 
  have expected, straddling her ... hovering over her with dark dangerous 
  eyes, his hands catching hers, licking the palms of each slowly before that 
  sash is taken and wound around them.

The sound of her breath increases in both volume and speed as she's placed 
  back into the pillows, her urge to wrap her arms around him thwarted as her 
  wrists are pinned back and bound by the silk sash. She swallows hard, a 
  small flash of fear crossing her mind, and she feels her face heating up as 
  her eyes make out his figure hovering over her.

Taking her bound hands, Paul stretches them once again over her head, 
  attaching the cord to the bedframe, pinning her with his body as his hands 
  work to tie her in place. His mouth, however, covers her in a seductive and 
  reassuring kiss, and drawing back he murmurs against her mouth, "Pick a word 
  ... a safe word ... something that means no without saying no ...."

Her lips soft and responsive as he kisses her, Jessalyn nods her head slowly, 
  trying to free her mind from the swirl of emotions and desire long enough to 
  comprehend what he's saying. 'A... safe word?" she mumbles against his 
  mouth, blinking slowly, her voice breathless. "Okay...uhm... bantha...?"

Laughing, Paul kisses Jessalyn again his hands trailing down the length of her 
  upstretched arms. "Yes ... yes that should break the mood beautifully," he 
  chuckles against her mouth. "If you get scared or you want to stop, you just 
  say that ... I won't listen to anything else like "no" or "stop" or "don't" 
  .... alright?" he queries, as his hands move to her breasts, stroking them 
  with teasing passes of his palms.

Sucking her breath in between her teeth, Jessalyn nods her head, chuckling to
  herself and unable to keep from arching against his hands which tease 
  against her tender breasts. "All right," she murmurs, her lips trembling as 
  they smile at him.

... awhile later ...

Unable to move, Jessalyn's breath leaves her lips shakily, a sound that seems 
  more like a sob than the intense release of pleasure that it is. Her fingers 
  ache as they unclench, all her muscles quivering as they're allowed to relax 
  once more. She keeps her eyes shut, her head turning slightly to allow her 
  hair to brush caressingly against his cheek, the only reciprocating movement 
  that she can make. "Paul..." she whispers brokenly.

Supporting Jessalyn with his arm, Paul shifts to 
  her side, reaching out with one hand. He struggles with the knots he made on 
  the bed, tightened under the strength of her straining body. However, the 
  silk is willing to give way under the right kind of inducement. Drawing her 
  hands toward him, he tenderly removes the sash, tossing it aside and he 
  kneels beside her, kissing her wrists lovingly.

She rolls slightly onto her side, her eyes closed and her hands trembling as 
  his lips brush against her wrists. Her head remains burrowed into the 
  pillow, the long tendrils of her hair splayed over it. Her breath rasps in 
  the quiet room as she slowly opens her eyes and looks at him kneeling next 
  to her.

Paul tenderly makes love to Jessalyn's hands as she recovers. His tongue laves 
  each palm, his lips ring her delicate wrists with wreathes of kisses. His 
  mouth tenderly nibbles and draws on her fingertips, his eyes resting on her 
  face, brimming with emotion, when she finally raises her gaze to his.

Her breaths gradually slow, coming more deeply and calmly, and Jessa smiles at 
  Paul very slowly, watching in amazement as his lips cover her small hands 
  with tender kisses. "Paul...." she murmurs.

Lowering his hands to her shoulders, Paul leans in to place the most tender 
  and gentle kisses to Jessalyn's lips. He lays down next to the redhead, 
  wrapping an arm about her ribcage, the other reaching up to pull the damp 
  tendrils of hair away from her flushed features. Laying another sweet kiss 
  upon her mouth, he whispers there, "You slay me ..."

Her lips curling slowly into a smile at the murmured words, Jessalyn returns 
  his gaze softly, her arm reaching to lay limply over his side, her fingers 
  straying lightly against his back. "I think... that I'm the one who's 
  slain," she whispers wryly, her breath brushing his lips.

Paul gathers her close, bringing Jessalyn up so that she sprawls across his 
  chest, her hair spreading out over him. He sighs, fingers stroking her 
  shoulders idly as he closes his eyes. He doesn't point out the difference in 
  their meanings ... the fact that there is one gives him pause enough as it 
  is. "Okay," he murmurs contentedly, "You can take advantage of me next time 
  ..."

Allowing herself to be pulled against him, Jessalyn relaxes her cheek against 
  his shoulder, looking at his features and his closed eyes contemplatively. 
  Her fingers play lightly over his chest for a moment, then, hesitantly, they 
  reach upward to stroke his stubbled cheek, and she's surprised at the 
  emotion that gets caught in her throat. Lips move softly as if to speak, but 
  she is unable to find the words... so she simply watches his face lovingly.

Lids flicker open at her touch, a smile instantly spreading across his mouth 
  as his gaze shifts between her eyes. "What?" he queries at the look that's 
  come over her face. "You want me to shave ... don't you?" he murmurs wryly, 
  jutting out his chin.

Laughter shakes her slender form splayed over his, and she drags her 
  fingertips over his chin, her brows arching. "That's not what I was 
  thinking," she assures him, still chuckling, and propping her head up by 
  cupping her cheek in one hand. "Definitely not what I was thinking...."

"Well, I ain't no Jedi," he teases in return, "I can't read your mind even if 
  I wanted to." His finger brushes the tip of her hose, his eyes regarding her 
  with a steady and contented light within their depths.

Jessalyn lowers her eyes for a moment, but returns his gaze with soft green 
  eyes, her lips curved in a smile. "No... I know," she whispers. "I was... 
  only admiring how handsome you look... even if you haven't shaved."

"Did anyone ever tell you that flattery will get you everywhere?" he rumbles 
  deeply, stroking one cheek with the back of his fingers. "You drive me to 
  distraction ... I can't seem to get enough of you ...."

"Get me everywhere, hmm?" she whispers, drawing herself up a little closer 
  until she rests her forehead against his. "If only that were true." Her 
  fingers graze across his cheek and she sighs softly, closing her eyes. 
  "You're the dangerous one, you know."

Her hair falls about them, shutting off the rest of the world and the room, 
  creating a inner sanctum just for the two of them. His eyes sobering, Paul 
  strokes her hair and back slowly, his eyes now trapped, bound to her face. 
  "Jessa ..." he starts to whisper, trailing off as he doesn't know what to 
  say ... or perhaps _how_ to say it.

"Hmmm...?" Jessa's voice coaxes gently, her fingers still against his cheek as 
  the curtain of her hair drapes across his shoulders, and her eyes meet his 
  intense gaze. "What is it, Paul?" she murmurs softly.

"I ... I ...," but words are inadequate - either saying too much or too little 
  to express what he's feeling. And despite their earlier experience of the 
  day, Paul feels that there is only one way to express himself to her. A 
  small tremor runs through his frame as he reaches up to capture her face, 
  deliberately opening his mind to her. "Be a Jedi," he murmurs, his mouth 
  lifting to capture hers.

Blinking in astonishment at him, Jessa gives a muffled cry of protest against 
  his lips, not wanting to break her vow of before and afraid of meeting that 
  steel wall with her mind again. But maybe this is they way he can accept 
  what she is. By his own request, not by her prying. And maybe he knows there 
  is no more intimate way for her to find what it is he wants her to know. Her 
  eyes close and she slips into light concentration, letting her mind brush 
  just the very outer surface of his thoughts, tentative, not wanting to 
  betray his trust.

His thoughts are warm and inviting ... clearly intending her to be here even 
  if a layer of nervousness runs like a dark undercurrent through the waters 
  of his mind. Indeed, it is clear from his thoughts and emotions that words 
  are inadequate to express what he's feeling. A molten mix of passion and 
  desire, love and caring, lap over Jessalyn's probing mind. It is something 
  far more than simple affection that he feels for her, yet something not as 
  full blown as love, but still a potent force and emotion. There is a sense 
  of delight in her person, comfort and trust, and a baffling degree of 
  desire. However, there are stains in these waters as well ... three other 
  relationships, each with a painful conclusion, cast doubts upon his mind. 
  There is a fear that he is being unfair to Jessa, that he is taking 
  advantage of her and will hurt her, and a fear that these three darkened 
  spots could rise up to consume him again. As Jessalyn's mind trails through 
  these deep currents, Paul once again trembles.

Still uncertain of her right to be here at all, Jessa very carefully sifts 
  through the emotions and thoughts, allowing her own to be obvious to him as 
  well, reassuring him with her own warm and loving affection for him. Coming 
  across his fears, she hesitates, understanding, and trying to reassure him 
  that he won't hurt her, that it's not the past that matters. Even as she 
  tentatively looks at those stains, uncertain if he wants her to see them 
  more clearly, she finds herself whispering with her own voice. "Let go of 
  the past, Paul," she soothes. "Let go of all the anger and bitterness and 
  regret that cripples you... only then can any of us be what we truly are."

"I can't ...." he whispers, pushing those stains forcibly down in his mind, 
  allowing them to mingle with the other dangerous undercurrents that drag 
  along the basin. "They're a part of me ... of who I am .... that can't be 
  erased," he rasps, the trembling growing stronger as she addresses his 
  weaknesses and flaws, straining to keep himself from closing up again.

Drawing a breath, Jessalyn's fingers curve gently against Paul's cheek, as if 
  her gentle physical touch can mimic her mental one. She lets his mind 
  withdraw as much as he needs to, and doesn't persist in examining anything 
  in detail that he doesn't want her to see. She's aware only of the results 
  of his past, not their cause. "Not erased," she soothes softly. "No, never 
  erased. You must simply let go of the fear of the past, Paul."

His thoughts flicker with confusion, arguing her point like a panel of 
  scientists, each one with a different theory. One part of his mind agrees 
  with her logic, but another insists that the fear is a useful learning tool 
  and survival technique, while yet a third insists that he must suffer 
  because he is unworthy and it is his lot in life. Other voices chime in, and 
  in the light that all he wanted to do was to tell her how he felt about 
  -her-, not take an in depth look at himself, he murmurs fretfully, his mind 
  pulling away from her's. Paul is extremely careful even in his discomfort to 
  not snap closed, but allows the barrier to slip back into place, leaving him 
  with only Jessa's emerald eyes before him.

Those eyes glisten with tears as they look back into his, filled with sorrow 
  and sympathy for him. Her lower lip trembles, and she draws her fingers away 
  from his cheek to cover her own face. Unable to argue, moved by his feelings 
  for her, she simply stares into his eyes, blinking slowly.

As those eyes brim with tears, sadness, and sympathy, they speak volumes to
  Paul whether they mean to or not. Each of those elements are bad enough, but
  in combination they come through as pity ... the last thing Paul ever wanted
  or desired in his whole life. In fact, pity was the one thing he often
  received as a child in response to his abandonment, his father, and his
  disadvantages of size and strength. He developed a healthy hatred for the
  useless emotion, and as he sees that very thing reflected in Jessalyn's
  liquid gaze, he feels the age old revulsion flare up within him. He calls
  himself twelve kinds of fools for taking a chance and exposing himself ....
  _you'd think after all this time I'd learn_ he snaps at himself. Hazel eyes
  shadow, and shifting beneath her, Paul turns on his side, facing the wall
  and away from Jessa. He can't condemn her for her feelings, but he can't
  bear them either.

Baffled by his reaction, wondering now if she should not have accepted his
  offer, Jessalyn's mind whirls in a near-panic. But she presses her lips
  together in a thin line, reaching out with her hand and gripping his
  shoulder forcefully, staring at his back. "Don't," she whispers, her voice
  small despite everything, "Don't do this."

Paul's eyes close, clenching shut tightly at her words. Suddenly it's as if
  everything is on the line and he is stripped naked before her emotionally,
  an uncomfortable experience at best. Taking a deep breath, his shoulder
  shifting under her hand with the effort, he turns back to Jessalyn, hazel
  eyes considering emerald uncertainly. Another deep breath before he is able
  to whisper, "I can't change for you ... and I can't bear your pity for being
  broken ..."

It's exceedingly difficult for Jessalyn not to roll her eyes. After
  everything, she finds it almost insulting. But she pushes those feelings
  aside, seeing them as nothing but negative and pointless, and calms herself
  enough so that she can move closer to him, her tear-filled green eyes now
  simply gentle and reassuring. "I don't want you to change for me, Paul," she
  whispers, brushing her fingers across his cheek. "And I don't pity you for
  anything." She pauses thoughtfully, her own face flushing, and swallows hard
  before she finds the nerve to make her own admission. "If anything... I'm
  pitying myself because I know I never stand a chance with you."

It takes a moment for Paul's mind to digest her words, confused as what she
  says does not match his perceptions. His brows wing downward in puzzlement
  his hand reaching up to cover Jessalyn's hand. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, in
  regard to the small scene he realizes he's just made, feeling foolish now.
  Reaching up with his other hand, Paul brushes a stray tendril of hair away
  from Jessa's brow murmuring, "Jessalyn ... although I think you deserve far
  more, you stand a better chance than anyone else in the entire universe ...."

Drawing in a sharp breath, Jessa closes her eyes tightly for a moment, not
  certain what to think now. It's not that different a situation than what
  she's been in before, and she finds that realization somewhat disconcerting.
  "Paul," she murmurs feelingly, leaning down and brushing her lips across
  his. "Is that really true...?" she whispers.

He stops her mouth to kiss her, a burning sweetness rising up within him as
  the realization that she actually -wants- him hits his bloodstream. Drawing
  back slightly, he murmurs against her lips, "I've known many women, but
  there have been very few that draw me as you do. Even back on Palanhi I
  wanted to be with you before I even understood why ..." He kisses her again,
  that burning intensity moving from his mouth to her's before he draws away
  again. "But ...," and it always seems that there is one ..., "there was
  Luke. We also don't -really- know one another ... we're like intimate
  strangers, each sharing intensely personal information of one another, but
  with no idea of what we are like together under normal circumstances ... and
  our lives draw us in such opposite directions ..." His hands now frame
  Jessa's face, his eyes shifting between hers.

Feeling every nerve tingling through her body, Jessa chuckles aloud as he
  gives voice to her own thoughts, her head shaking slowly even as his fingers
  frame her cheeks. "I know," she murmurs. "I've thought the same thing
  myself, Paul. But... perhaps those are things that could change given
  sometime," she adds, afraid to sound too hopeful and peering closely into
  his eyes to see his reaction.

Those hazel orbs reflect a warm tenderness as they gaze back at Jessalyn.
  "Then we'll take it slowly? See what develops? Hopefully, if it's right,
  we'll know. What happens after we can figure out from there." It rings
  eerily of similar promises made to another redhead, but Paul firmly squashes
  the echo down. The circumstances were completely different ... they were
  words spoken in uncertainty to reassure and give himself some space. This
  time these words hold a glimmer of hope for a possible future, the odds
  stacked more in their favor.

Leaning back slightly to better be able to look down into his eyes, Jessalyn
  nods her head, trying to contain the surge of emotions she finds rising up
  in her, wonder and hope and uncertainty all competing at once for her
  attention. "I think... that sounds like the wisest course," she murmurs,
  finally allowing her muscles to relax somewhat.

Wrapping his arms about her, Paul pulls gently downward, hugging Jessalyn to
  him and burying his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. "Hell with being
  wise," he murmurs, "I just don't want to lose you, no matter what comes of
  all of this. I've lost too many people that I love already."

Jessalyn turns her cheek to his shoulder, letting him hold her body against
  his and squeezing her eyes tightly shut. "You're not going to lose me," she
  assures him quietly. "I've always cared about you... that won't change...."

That promise brings an ease to the frame beneath her, a sigh of gentle relief.
  Paul simply holds Jessalyn close, absorbing the feeling of her against him
  with quiet joy at this unexpected haven welcoming him in. He finally draws
  her face back up to his, sealing her lips with a kiss burgeoning with his
  freed emotions.

Chuckling inwardly at his needless fears, Jessalyn returns the kiss, her hands
  sliding up to rest on his shoulders. Her own body eases with released
  tension, however, relieved that somehow she has helped lay some of his
  worries to rest. "What an adventure you are," she muses, her lips still
  pressed to his.

Brow arching, Paul's lips curl into a smirk as he mutters against her mouth,
  "Why do I get the feeling that that is -not- the compliment I would like it
  to be?" with a chuckle. He shifts to nuzzle her neck, muttering into the
  tender flesh there, "Well, at least things won't be boring ...."

This time she laughs aloud, turning her head to let her cheek brush against
  his hair. "Never that," she murmurs, her fingers moving to explore the
  smooth curve of each shoulder. "