((Contains material of an adult nature.))

It had been a week since Ashlyn's encounter with the reputed pirate captain, and though he had promised not to break her heart, she had yet to hear from him or see him again, but then, he was a man out of time and without a phone or any other means of communication save the written word. And so it was that, nearly a week after their first and only encounter, an envelope found its way to her office addressed to Professor Ashlyn Granger, and written in a hand with a particularly old-fashioned flourish.

The contents of the envelope simply read: "My Lady Ashlyn, I apologize for being so remiss in contacting you sooner, but I have been otherwise occupied with matters of some importance. I pray I have not worried you. I have not forgotten my promise to you, and if you would do me the honor, I would like the opportunity to prove myself an honorable man. I will be at the The Following Wave this evening at sunset, if you wish to send word. If not, I will take your silence as answer enough. Yours truly, James Radcliffe."

The week had been almost interminable for Ash. No way to contact him left her utterly dependent on James for contact, and no contact had been forthcoming. She had eventually broken down and asked Elle for advice, admitting to her soon to be sister-in-law how hung up on the real Captain Hook she was after just one night's acquaintance. Elle had advised her to be patient, understanding a little better the restraint of an English gentleman from the 18th century, and so, Ash had tried to be as patient as possible. That patience, however, had flown straight out of the window when she'd received the invitation sent to her office, immediately sending word to the restaurant he'd named to make sure he knew she'd be there. The next step had been to call Elle for a female dating council conversation, which had resulted in her getting out of work early to change.

She couldn't remember ever having been this worked up about a date before, even if it turned out to not really be a date. She just hoped Elle didn't spill the beans to her brother too soon. She wanted to have at least some idea of where she was going with James before she had to explain herself to Dominic.

Wrapped up in her coat, Ashlyn paused outside The Following Wave, hoping James had received her message. She was nervous enough that being stood up would probably result in an embarrassing explosion of tears. And yet despite this, she found herself stepping inside, looking around curiously as she flicked her hair out of her face.

He had received her message, but not in time to do much about his appearance. With very little knowledge or understanding of modern customs, he wouldn't have called this a date exactly, but he had spent a week trying to get her out of his head and had failed. She'd be better off without him, of that he was certain, but in the end, perhaps it was him who needed her, not the other way around. The lighting was dim inside the place he'd picked for their meeting, tables filled with couples and others and no pirate in sight - at least, not at first glance.

She lingered by the door for a long moment, blue eyes searching for him without much luck. Feeling disappointment crowding in on her, Ashlyn gave herself a mental kick, knowing she'd never forgive herself if she gave up without at least trying. Catching the eye of one of the staff, she drew him over to her. "Excuse me," she said, sure her concern showed even in her smile. "Do you know if a James Radcliffe is here" He invited me to meet him here, and I sent an answer to this restaurant so he'd know I was coming." She bit her lip, certain the unspoken question was in her eyes. Have I been stood up"

"Radcliffe?" the man echoed, considering a moment. "Oh! You must mean the Captain. Yeah, he's here." The man gestured toward the very back of the restaurant, where a few shadowy shapes could be seen, though the lighting was too dim to make out the faces. "Back corner. I believe he's waiting on a lady." He laughed. "That must be you."

"The Captain, huh?" Her relief lit up her face as her smile relaxed, her eyes wandering to the shadowy back area of the restaurant. She still couldn't make him out, but hopefully she wasn't going to be accosted by anyone who wasn't James when she got there. Thanking the waiter warmly, she headed into the dimness at the back of the restaurant, her hands deep in the pockets of her coat.

The closer she got to the back of the restaurant, the clearer those shapes and faces became, until it was clear that one of them did indeed resemble the Captain, though he was not dressed as he'd been for the theater. Instead of shirt, trousers, and wool peacoat, he was clad all in black leather, over a black shirt and crimson brocade vest, open at the front, the hint of a silver chain hanging against his chest. In front of him was a glass and a bottle of some amber liquid, as she'd seen him drink before.

It had been a week since she'd seen him, and memorable though that night had been, she had not been expecting to see him quite like this. In the gloom, her eyes passed over him once, dragged back to the only man sitting alone to find that it was, indeed, her Captain. She felt a familiar jolt, biting her lip as her skin flushed. Well, she had said she liked a bad boy ...

Was it any wonder he had not dressed like this to attend the theater" He would have stood out like a sore thumb, but here, not far from the docks, and in the dim lighting, no one noticed or cared. He looked up from his contemplation of the amber liquid, almost as if he sensed her presence. "You came," he said, sounding almost astounded by that realization. As she came closer, she'd notice that his face was bruised on one side, and his lip was cracked, as if it had been recently split open. If a bad boy was what she wanted, she had just met one of the baddest.

"Of course I came," she answered, as though it was perfectly obvious that he hadn't been far from her thoughts since they had last met. Of course, the sight of his bruised face and split lip made her blink. "What does the other guy look like?" she asked with a faint smile, undoing her coat to hang it on the back of the chair she slipped into. Around here, she was the one who stood out, little black dress and all.

He would have gotten up and helped her with her coat, but her presence had shocked him so much, he'd been frozen in place, merely gawking at her. "You look lovely," he told her, hardly even realizing he'd said it out loud until it had been said. "The other guy?" he echoed, seemingly confused for a moment. "Oh, this ..." he said, gesturing to his bruised face. "The other guy will think twice before accosting me again."

Easing down to sit beside him, she raised her hand, fingertips gently tracing his injuries. "Looks painful," she murmured softly. "Any idea who it was?" Because despite being something of a wimp when it came to violence, she wasn't above setting a cousin or two on certain people if they crossed a line.

"Just some local hooligans, I imagine," he replied, wincing just a little as she touched his bruised face. The injury looked recent enough that it hadn't had much time to heal, but not so recent that it had just happened. "And please don't suggest reporting it to the Watch. I've had far worse in my day, and I doubt they'll be bothering me again."

"I was going to suggest passing the information on to a few people I know who teach lessons," she told him with a smile. "Thank you, by the way. You're honored - I think this is the first time I've worn a dress in about five years. You should buy Daisy a fruit basket or something."

"Had," he reminded her helpfully. "These days I am little more than a pauper." Oh, he had a few baubles and some gold, but it was going to take a lot more than that to finance a new ship and crew. What he needed was a financier, but that was another matter. "She was a woman of noble birth, who did not take too kindly to my gallivanting across the sea in support of the Prince. In short, she spurned me, so that is something else we have in common," he explained, taking a swallow of his bourbon.

"Did you love her?" Ash asked softly, curious to know how hard he had been hit by the loss of his fianc"e in the wake of that betrayal. She didn't want to offer an opinion of the woman herself, not if he still harbored fond memories of her.

"Aye, I loved her, but that was a very long time ago, Ashlyn," he replied, sighing softly, as if with sadness. "I do not regret my actions. It was simply not meant to be. I have few regrets in life. I don't believe in regret. I believe in learning from your mistakes and moving on."

"I am sorry." Her hand covered his, gentle commiseration for his heartbreak as she squeezed. She didn't know what to say; Ash didn't have the best track record in that arena herself. "Moving on is easier said than done," she murmured quietly. "But if we can do it, anyone can."

"I've had a few centuries, it would seem, for that wound to heal. You needn't worry. I harbor no love for her any longer," he assured her, with a strained smile. Though he no longer loved her, the pain of that betrayal had run deep and had kept him from ever falling in love again. Of course, being carried away to Neverland had done its part to prevent that, too. "What about you?" he asked, thinking this was another tit for tat thing.

She almost winced, but took her courage in both hands, as it were. "I didn't love him," she said quietly, looking down at their joined hands. "I didn't particularly even like him. It was an agreement that I didn't think I had any choice in, and I managed to keep it a secret for the duration of our - for want of a better word - marriage. It was annulled last year."

He arched a single dark brow at her confession, not terribly surprised as he had guessed as much from the vague clue she had offered, but that confession still left a few questions unanswered. "A forced marriage or a marriage of convenience?" he asked, not judging her, but merely curious. Did such things even exist in this time and place"

"I ....don't quite know how to describe it," she admitted awkwardly. "It was convenient for him." She shook her head. "Okay, here's what happened. I was working with my team; we were out in the Nereem Strait, cataloging the coral reef that surrounded one of the atolls. A fleet of ships showed up, and started laying in pylons, right through the reef, without any care for what they were damaging. I ....kicked off, a little, and I ended up face to face with the owner of the company's son, who promised to protect the reef from any further damage if I would marry him and have his baby." She couldn't even look at James as she explained this, swallowing another mouthful of bourbon. "Anyway, obviously, I didn't get pregnant, and because of some clause in his father's will, the company went to one of his cousins, who changed the purpose of the company and that reef now no longer exists. I haven't seen or spoken to him since he told me that, and to be honest, I would be happy never to see him again."

He studied her as she told her story, his expression darkening, the honorable gentleman in him taking offense to what she had suffered. "There is a word for that, Ashlyn. It is called blackmail." There were other words - bribery and extortion among them, but blackmail seemed to best fit the circumstances, as far as he was concerned. "A loveless marriage is no marriage at all. It is a lie. Nothing more."

"It wasn't really a marriage at all," she admitted, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment. "I prostituted myself to protect something that he had no power to protect." Her jaw clenched angrily. "I've never told anyone about it, not even my brother." She drew in a slow breath, and raised her eyes to his, concerned that he might not look at her in the same way any longer. "I did say I'm no angel."

"You sacrificed your own happiness to save something you loved and to do something worthwhile. That is not prostitution the way I understand it. A bit foolish, perhaps, but your intentions were honorable. I can tell you this ....any man who would try to force a woman into such an arrangement is lower than the lowliest scum. I understand now why you called us unscrupulous bastards." He touched her hand as he spoke, gentling his voice, as if trying to comfort her.

She winced, cringing at the repetition of her rather bitter words the last time they had met. "I didn't ....I don't mean all men," she tried to apologize. "I just ....I was twenty, I hadn't been in a serious relationship with anyone, I ..." She sighed. "I made a big mistake, and it's stopped me from trusting anyone since. Well ....not until you, anyway."

There were several things that came to mind, several things he could say. He could point out how he hadn't kept his promise to her, how he'd let a week pass without getting in touch or trying to track her down, how he wasn't much better than the man who had hurt her, and yet, instead of all that, he took her hand between both of his and looked into her eyes. "You have to forgive yourself and let it go, lass. He can't hurt you anymore. You can only hurt yourself."

Her fingers curled to his as he held her gaze, a soft smile touching her lips. "I have let it go, mostly," she assured him. "Who knows" Without that happening, would I have been at the theater that night' Maybe you're my reward for being a good girl after all." Her smile turned a little mischievous as she leaned toward him, very gently touching a kiss to his split lip. "Your turn. Did you ever make it back to England for the invasion, or did you get sucked to Neverland before then?"

He wasn't sure why, but he was surprised by the kiss, even touched by it, or perhaps by the gentleness of it. After a moment, his lips parted to answer her question, but before he could utter a word, the waiter was there with their dinners and looking a little embarrassed to have interrupted such a tender moment. James cleared his throat, shifting a little in the chair, before the man finally departed.

Perhaps strangely, Ashlyn wasn't in the least embarrassed to have been interrupted in their tender moment, simply allowing James to retreat a little as she smiled at the waiter. She glanced down at her meal, trying to remember what she had ordered, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was shrimp korma. "Well, at least I didn't order anything too ridiculously spicy."

"I've no idea what that dish is except that it's made with prawns," he said, looking over her dinner with a chuckle, and then a wince as the chuckle made one of his many hurts that he had not mentioned ache a little. As for himself, he'd ordered a simple dinner of roast chicken and potatoes.

She noticed the wince, but made no mention of it, making a mental note to be gentle with him later. "Actually, this is a kind of bastardized version of a very mild form of curry," she explained. "Want to try some" It originates in India, on Earth. They have a very spicy palate, but this dish is actually kind of sweet. Coconut and almond milk, it's pretty creamy."

"I'm nothing if not adventurous," he replied with a slightly strained smile, the ache in his side slowly easing up. He didn't bother to point out that it was sort of a given that he was adventurous, being a pirate and all, letting her see the irony in it.

The mention of deities brought a small thoughtful frown to his face, though he didn't say why. He did find Rhy'Din confusing in that it was such an amalgamation of customs and beliefs and people from so many different times and places and even worlds. One could study it all their life and never learn everything there was to know about it. But the mention of a deity or deities troubled him somehow. "Gods, plural," was the only thing he said, and that was mostly muttered. He very gently dabbed her mouth clean with the napkin before returning his attention to wiping his plate clean.

"It's just a turn of phrase," she tried to reassure him, blushing a little as he helped her to wipe her mouth clean. "I was raised Catholic, by my mother. She's a very devout woman, and a little of that rubbed off. I don't go to church as much as I should, but I do still practice."

"I, too, am ....or was ....Catholic," he admitted, though he wasn't sure how he would define his religious beliefs any longer. "I still believe in One God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, but I'm uncertain about the rest," he went on, cringing a little as he still believed he might burn in hell simply for admitting that much. Then again, he'd spent enough years in Neverland to have come to think of it as a kind of hell.

"I think faith is faith," Ash shrugged gently. "So long as you try to live your life well, I don't think there's any guiding hand from above to make you do what you do. Free will, you know" We're free to make our own mistakes and deal with them the way we choose to."

"You might think differently if you'd seen what I've seen," he said, pausing a moment to drain his glass of bourbon but not yet refilling it. And there they were, circling back to the question she'd asked him before they'd been interrupted by the waiter, but still he said nothing more.

"I might, yes," she nodded. "But it's our experiences that set us apart from one another. It's what makes us unique, the way our lives build to create the people we are. I don't think I'm that interesting, but I seem to interest you. And you definitely interest me."

"On the contrary, I find you very interesting," he countered, though he wasn't sure he could qualify that remark with any real proof. "And what exactly do you find so interesting about me?" he asked, that roguish smirk finding its way to his face again. "Besides the fact that I am exceptionally charming and good in bed?"

"Oh, besides that?" She giggled softly, touching her cheek to his shoulder briefly before raising her head again. "Could you possibly be fishing for compliments, Captain Radcliffe?" she asked him in a teasing tone. "Or should I write all your fine qualities down in a list you can peruse at your leisure?"

"I will not prevent you from stroking my ego, if you so desire, lady," he told her with another smirk, lifting the bottle to refill both the glasses. That was the end of it - if they wanted more, they'd have to order another bottle or go elsewhere. "Might I also remind you that we hardly know each other still?"

"Sometimes it doesn't take more than a moment to know you're meant to know someone," she shrugged, proving that faith wasn't all about deities. "Besides, we have time to learn each other, don't we" Provided you don't make it a habit to get beaten up on a regular basis."

"It was not my intention, believe me!" He chuckled again, wincing just a little this time at the stitch in his side. "Don't they say the chase is half the fun?" he queried, sipping at his bourbon, now that he was finished with his meal. "The thrill of the chase," he quoted, gesturing with his glass.

"Somehow, I think the people who say that have never actually experienced a successful chase," Ash chuckled, raising her glass to his, nonetheless. "You know, the ones who are doomed to spend their lives chasing and never actually getting what they want out of it."

"I once thought I might be one of those people," he admitted with a frown. Especially when he'd been in Neverland. At the time, it had seemed like there was no way out, and if it hadn't been for a certain deity who'd looked kindly on him, it was likely he'd still be there, suffering indignation after indignation at Pan's whims, merely for the boy's entertainment.

She eyed him thoughtfully, a half-smile on her face. "And what do you think now?" she asked curiously. She didn't want to put him under pressure of any kind, but his comment did beg the question.

"Now?" he echoed, thoughtfully, knowing that was something of a loaded question. His hand reached for hers, fingers tangling together, an almost trepidatious smile on his face. "Now, I'm hopeful."

"That makes two of us." Her thumb stroked over his knuckles as he took her hand, leaning close to him once again. "I've never felt this comfortable with a man before. You don't have an ulterior motive, you don't seem to expect anything from me. That's pretty special in my book."

"Oh, I have plenty of ulterior motives, lass," he said with another chuckle of laughter. "But none I think you would be opposed to," he added, smiling a bit smugly and linking his fingers with hers. "How shall we spend the rest of the evening?" he asked, now that dinner was over. Though he had tried for a week to stay away, it seemed his will power had faltered. Or maybe he really was that lonely. He had made few friends in Rhy'Din so far, keeping mostly to himself, though he had made a few inquiries into possible employment.

"Hmm." Tempting as it was to suggest they go back to her apartment and pick up where they'd left off the last time, Ashlyn managed to restrain herself. "I think I'd like to show you some of those salt-water secrets I've seen and you haven't," she mused. "Wanna come to my office, handsome?"

He smiled, knowing they'd likely end up back at her apartment at some point anyway - there was no way he was offering to take her to his place. "I thought you'd never ask," he teased, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. But first, the bill. He raised a hand to get the waiter's attention so that they could square up.

"My treat," she told him warmly. She had no doubt he could easily find out what she was worth - or least, what her family was worth - with a little snooping, but she hadn't yet volunteered that information. If he was still paying room rental for his own living space, however, she was going to pay for dinner.

He had quickly learned that the currency of the land was as varied as its inhabitants, and what was valuable to one person was worthless to another. It had certainly made life challenging in the first days of his arrival. "I asked you here, Ashlyn. The least I can do is pay for dinner," he insisted, ever the chivalrous gentleman, unlike his reputation would have one think.

Her hand covered his gently. "I'm a woman of independent means," she told him quietly. "The pleasure of your company is all you need to provide, at least until you're on your feet. I know it takes time, especially when you need to learn about this place."

He had not told her how long he'd been in Rhy'Din, nor had she yet asked, but it had obviously not been long enough to get himself well established and he still had a lot to learn. "Very well, but I will return the favor as soon as I am able."

He didn't want to confirm who that certain person was, but he was pretty sure she was referring to the man who had forced her into marrying him. He clenched his jaw at the thought of it. Now, there was a man he wouldn't mind running his blade through, if he ever had the opportunity, or perhaps challenging to a duel. "Did it?" he asked curiously.

"Mostly," she chuckled. "Pissed him off, too." There was a certain amount of malicious glee in the way she shared this, but she was hardly holding a grudge. It had been her mistake, and one she had accepted. James could help her with the rest. She lead him through the main exhibition hall, past the eerily dark and silent displays of dinosaur skeletons, and up the main staircase onto the gallery above, where the doors were marked with the names of various departments.

Admittedly, he had been here only once since his arrival in Rhy'Din. Most of his time had been split between the docks and the library, learning as much as he could about this place and how to survive here. The place was a little creepy in the dark, with all the skeletons and whatnot casting huge looming shadows on the walls, but it would take more than that to frighten him. "Well, there was no love lost there, was there?" he asked, though it was hardly a question as he followed her through the main hall and up the stairs, which he took a little slower than usual, one step at a time.

"Not even a scrap of hate," she agreed, flashing a grin over her shoulder to him as she lead the way. It didn't occur to her how unsettling the museum could be after hours; she'd spent too many hours here in silence herself. "They hold gala fund-raisers here every couple of months," she told him. "The next one is in December. Now that really does feel like prostitution. Everyone associated with the museum or the university pleading for the biggest cheque they can get from prospective donors."

"I'm afraid I won't be much use to you there," he said, a little ashamed of that fact. He was a pirate ....er, privateer. He was supposed to have booty to show for his efforts, but he had very little. A small chest full of gold and baubles that were arguably worth far less here than they would have been back home in England.

She turned at the top of the stairs, curling her fingers into the lapels of his coat to pull him close. Her breath teased his lips as she nuzzled to him. "Like I'm with you for your money," she drawled to him. "You have way more to offer than anything that can be written on a cheque, darlin'. I don't bring just anyone to see my tanks, you know."

Pulled closer, he almost managed to forget about his various hurts, as another part of his anatomy made itself known and reminded him of the one night they'd spent together. Ah, but what a night it had been! "Or your thong," he pointed with a roguish grin, settling his hands against her hips. "You are playing with fire again, Professor," he warned her, leaning close enough for her to smell the bourbon on his breath.

"Mmm ....Shame there are surveillance cameras in almost every room here," she teased him laughingly, nipping his lower lip as she drew back to unlock the door that lead to the Marine Biology labs and offices. It was even quieter in here, a more enclosed sort of silence, punctuated by the underlying rumble of the tanks' filtration systems. It also said a lot about the staff here that one wall of the main corridor in their department was a tank itself.

For a man who'd spent a good many years at sea, the view beneath the ocean was something he had not had the opportunity to enjoy. His eyes nearly popped open as they passed through to the Marine Biology section, amazed at the beauty all around him. "This is bloody amazing," he murmured, cussing for the first time in his presence, but for a very good reason.

Ashlyn's smile widened as he got his first look at the wonder of what was hidden under the surface of the sea he loved so well. She paused, letting him take in the content of the tank that made up the wall beside them. "This is the only shark tank we have right now," she told him, pointing out the black-tips swishing backward and forward between the transplanted and constructed coral. "They're not hugely dangerous, but like anything, if you approach them in the wrong way, they'll bite."

It had been a long time since anything had so surprised, amazed, and pleased the pirate captain as this. "Aye, but they're behind glass," he said, stepping up close to the wall-size tank to take a closer look. "Is this what the bottom of the sea really looks like?" he asked, knowing this was all just a mock-up, though the sea life swimming in the tank was real enough.

"It's pretty close," she nodded, letting him look for as long as he liked. The longer he looked, the more he would see - like the clownfish in their anemones, the moray eel lurking at the bottom of the one of the reef constructs, the rays slithering over the white sand. "The reefs in this tank are mostly artificial, but we have tried to recreate the ecosystem the creatures would enjoy in their natural environment as much as we can."

Some of the sealife he saw there looked familiar. This was certainly not the first time he'd seen a shark, though from this view, beneath the sea, everything looked very different than it did from above. "But when you dive, you see all of this in front of you," he said, more statement than question. "How deep do you dive?" he asked curiously, his gaze following the movement of the shark about the tank.

"I've never gone deeper than thirty feet," she admitted with a smile. "But the coral systems like these, they can be anything between three and thirty feet from the surface. You don't have to dive that deep to see this up close. You don't even have to dive at all, but it makes for a better experience."

"Aye," he replied, having seen some coral for himself. He was no stranger to the water, but without the proper equipment, he'd never been able to explore it the way she had - and then, there been the crocs to beware of. The thought of the croc gave him pause, but this was Rhy'Din, not Neverland. "I presume it can be dangerous."

"It can be. Look, see that one" Stripy, with the splayed fins that look kinda spiky?" She pointed to the fish she was indicating, trying to make sure he could follow the line she was imagining to the right one. "That's a lion fish. Beautiful, but deadly - those fins hide poisonous spines that cause paralysis and death. And down there ....the stone-like lump under the sand there" Step on a stonefish, and you'll be dead before you reach the surface." She flashed him a grin. "Of course, not everything under the sea is out to get you."

"'Tis their way of protecting themselves," he said, knowing it was all just part of nature. If one wanted to explore, one had to be careful and know what they were doing. He didn't take any of it personally. He hadn't even taken the croc's enjoyment of his hand personally - he had blamed Pan for that - though he'd have killed the beast if he hadn't been in agonizing pain at the time. He pushed those thoughts aside, lest they cloud his enjoyment of this moment. "It's beautiful," he said quietly, knowing beauty and danger often went hand in hand.

She smiled as she watched him, surprised by just how pleased she was with his reaction to his first look at the world she studied and virtually inhabited for several months of the year. There were other tanks, of course, but this one was the best established of them. She'd have to take him to a public aquarium for him to get a good look at some of the larger sea creatures. "That's my office, on the other side, by the way," she added. "First door past the sharks is me."

He turned his head in the direction of the door she'd indicated, but he wasn't about to pass through without her permission. "Are there cameras in there, as well?" he asked. Apparently, he knew what cameras were and that they somehow captured images of whatever they were pointed at, sometimes still and sometimes moving images known as video.

She chuckled. "Only when security knows I'm working late and alone," she told him with a smile. "They'll be off tonight ....but I could always check, if you want me to." Look at that innocent expression. She may not have been an angel in practice, but she could certainly pull off that cherubic look when she tried.

"No need. I will try to restrain myself until later," he said, unable to hide the roguish grin from his face that she must be getting rather used to by now. "So, you study these creatures and bring them here so that you can share the view and teach others to appreciate their beauty, aye?"

He arched a brow, not bothering to explain further as she seemed to understand, more interested in the creatures in the tank now than in any further discussion of their varied passions for the sea. He curled the fingers of his left hand - the one Pan had thrown to the croc - into a fist, unconsciously protecting the hand he had once lost without even realizing it. His expression was almost fearful as he watched her play with the rays in the tank, but then, they were not crocs. "Are you sure it's safe to do that?" he asked, obviously not so sure himself.

She smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm sure," she promised. "The only dangerous part are the barbs on their tails, and they have no reason to use their tail on me. All I'm doing is offering a tickle - they're the ones taking it." She chuckled. "We have a couple of sharks who like a good tickle when they're in the mood here, too."

"Sharks!" he exclaimed, looking horrified. He wasn't so sure he'd offer his hand to a shark, no matter how harmless she said they were. "You have an interesting idea of adventure, lass," he told her, maintaining a short distance between himself and the rays, though they were hardly liable to take his hand off.

Ashlyn laughed, shaking her head. "Very few sharks are even close to being maneaters," she told him. "There are tiny sharks out there, and even the bigger ones aren't that interested in humans. Great whites are the ones that get the bad press, but there are others varieties of shark that are actually more aggressive toward humans at times. These guys ..." She glanced down into the tank, turning her hand so that the rays could rub against her palm and her knuckles, two at a time. "They're harmless, so long as you don't startle them or try to hurt them."

He took a curious step forward, his left hand still clenched tightly into a fist, though his right hand held loosely at his side. He was frowning skeptically. Admiring sea creatures behind glass was one thing, but up close and personal was another matter. Still, he was too curious not to be intrigued. "I don't know ..." he said in trepidation.

"I'm not going to make you do it," she assured him fondly. "It's something you might need to work up to, I get that. I'm confident to do it because I know these rays, I've known them since they arrived here. I wouldn't just plunge my hand into a tank of fish I wasn't familiar with." She chuckled, nudging his arm gently. "I'm not that reckless."

"If you don't mind, I think I'll just watch for now," he admitted, relaxing a little now that she had assured him she wouldn't pressure or force him into plunging his hand into the water on his first visit. "They seem harmless enough," he said, though he was carefully eying their barbed tails. "It is rare to see them at sea."

"The larger rays spend more time out at sea, but the majority of rays tend to stick to the reef systems," she told him. "They have a good supply of food there, and they do spend a lot of time gliding directly over the sand. I've heard that some of the giant rays out to sea actually jump the surface sometimes, but I've never seen it. I've never seen a ray bigger than about four feet across."

"Perhaps your mermaid friend can summon one for you to see," he suggested, chucking a little at how ridiculous the man he had once been would have considered that statement. "Apologies, lass. I am only thinking about how ironic all of this is."

"She might be able to," Ash laughed, gently withdrawing her hand from the water. "Oh, now, you let go," she informed one particularly stubborn ray, who was sucking on her fingertips. "You get fed in the morning, I'm not sitting here all night just to keep you company." As the ray let go, she chuckled, pulling her hand free and shaking the water from it as she looked over at James. "See" Harmless. What's the irony that's got you thinking?"

"Do they have no teeth?" he asked, as she cajoled the ray into letting go of her fingers. It was mostly the idea of something biting his hand off that made him hesitate. "Hmm?" he asked, half-forgetting what he'd just been thinking about. He wasn't normally so absent-minded, but there was a lot for him to process here. "Oh, I was just thinking how unbelievable all of this would seem to the man I used to be." Before his adventures in Neverland, that is.

"They do have teeth, but they've learned not to bite the hand that feeds them," she smiled, drying her skin on the towel that was always present for that use. "Rays can eat shellfish and crustaceans, like crabs, so they have to have some way of breaking shell. They're not that interested in trying to bite us, though." Hanging the towel up, she rolled her sleeve back down. "This is only a fraction of what you can see beneath the waves. You should be aware that the Kraken really exists on Rhy'Din, though, as do giant sea serpents. All those monsters of the deep" They're real, and far out to sea, there is always the chance that they'll take an interest in your ship."

"That's comforting, thank you," he replied with just a hint of sarcasm, though the possibility of sea monsters hardly deterred the man from his desire to procure a ship and sail the seas. He had his own sense of adventure, after all, and his own love of the sea.

She laughed, hooking her hand into his lapel once again to pull him close. "Gotta make sure my pirate has all the facts," she teased, brushing her lips against his, mindful of the split in his lip, the bruise decorating his cheek. "Maybe I should take you home and take care of you for a while."

"Privateer," he corrected as she pulled him close, though he'd slipped and referred to himself as a pirate more than once, more out of habit than anything else. He might have been a pirate in Neverland, but it had been more out of necessity than choice. His arms slid around her waist to lock at her back, drawing her even closer into his embrace. "Maybe you should," he replied, a faint smirk curling his lips as he dipped his head close to hers.

"Captain," she countered with a playful grin tugging at her lips. Her hands smoothed against his chest as he locked her in his embrace. "I'll have to be gentle with you tonight, poor banged up baby." She kissed the tip of his nose, far too at home teasing him. A casual observer would not have thought this was only their second meeting.

His smirk widened into a grin. "I am hardly a baby, lass," he said. "I am, in fact, over two hundred years old." If you counted the years that had passed on Earth since he'd been born anyway. He wasn't too sure how time passed on Rhy'Din yet, but he knew it had passed differently in Neverland. "I can assure you I am quite capable of performing, despite my injuries," he assured her, pulling her even closer as if to prove himself.

"You don't look a day over one-fifty," she laughed huskily, not even trying to deny the way her body reacted to his very Alpha male presence as she was drawn even closer. It was dominance, but not in a way she'd experienced before. James was the first man whose dominance of her was conditional on her permission to exert it. "I'm sure it'll be a performance worthy of a standing ovation," she murmured, nuzzling to him. "But not in front of a camera system my colleagues have access to."

"Very funny," he replied, blue eyes bright with amusement. "What are you afraid of, Professor?" he asked, edging her closer to the tank, but only so that she had no way to squirm out of his grasp. His eyes flashed a warning, but there was no malice in it.

She bit her lip as he cornered her, not exactly fighting back. She didn't mind being pinned in place by this man. Acutely aware of her flushed cheeks and quickening pulse, she gasped softly. "Getting sacked?" she suggested with a faint smile, but it was pretty obvious that only a little persuasion would have her begging. He had a hotline to her libido, which wasn't a bad place to start setting up for the long term campaign.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes at the obvious turn of his thoughts. "That's up to you," she pointed out, dropping down onto the couch beside him. "I just need to be able to get to your skin where it hurts." She knew as well as he did where most of the evening was going to end up, but she was determined to do this first.

Fortunately for him - or maybe for her - most of his bruises were above the waistline. Those that were below weren't worthy of attention. "Why are you doing this?" he asked abruptly, as if he suddenly needed to know just why she cared so much. "I understand why you followed me in the theater. I was being rude. But why did you meet me for dinner" Why did you bring me here" Why do you care so much, Ashlyn?" He touched her cheek as he asked these questions, his eyes searching hers, as if he was really at a loss for answers. "No one has cared for me in a very long time."

Startled by the sudden onslaught of questions, she paused, looking into his eyes as he touched her cheek. Why was she doing all this" It wasn't a question that usually came up when you started dated someone, but then, James Radcliffe wasn't a usual kind of man. He'd been alone for a long time, away from social interactions, untutored in the way society's rules had changed over the years of his confinement in Neverland. So how could she explain it to him' "I ....I like you," she said simply. "It really is as simple as that. I like you, James, an awful lot. And ....well, I'd like to find out if there could be more between us than incredible sex. I don't do one-night stands, not if I can help it. If you hadn't contacted me, I would have tracked you down somehow. Because you're a special man, and ....I'd like to find out if I'm the kind of girl you want in your life."

"Woman," he corrected, tracing her lips with a fingertip. "You are no girl, Ashlyn. You are a woman, and a very beautiful one at that." He still wasn't quite sure what she saw in him, other than the obvious physical attraction and incredible sex, but it seemed they were both, well, hooked on each other, for lack of a better word. "You're a very special woman, Ashlyn, and ..." There was that roguish smile again. "I like you, too," he admitted before leaning close to brush a kiss to her lips that was tender and gentle and yet full of passion and desire.

Yes, the passion was there, but there was that tenderness, too; tenderness that brought with it a swell of something far gentler in feeling to war with the unmistakable desire she felt for him. A soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, was caught between them as she answered his kiss, echoing the same sentiment as she inched closer, almost forgetting the whole point of the jar in her hand. As she drew back, she found herself smiling once again, her forehead resting against his as she looked into his eyes. "You're going to make me forget my own name."

"Never fear," he told he quietly. "I shall remember it for you," he whispered back before plying her lips again, his hands cupping her face before smoothing back through her hair. It was, perhaps, another way of saying he would never forget her. The kiss this time lingered longer than the last, further delaying her attention to his bruises, though he was hardly thinking of those at the moment.

Even with the little pot gripped in her hand, she couldn't seem to prevent herself from easing closer as he kissed her, wrapping her arms about him as she breathed him in. One kiss, and she had surrendered already, no matter the playful fight she might put up in the hours to come. It had been too long since she had dared to trust anyone with even the possibility of touching her heart; if she'd had to take a lie detector test in that moment, she would not have been able to deny that James had every chance of winning her heart from her already. It was far too soon to use the word love, and yet lust was not enough for what she felt for him. Only time would tell.

He drew the pot from her hand and without skipping a beat, set it aside to rest on a nearby table. There would be time for that later, if she still deemed it necessary, but for now, there were more pressing matters to tend to. He would not have denied that it was a sort of seduction that was at hand, but it wasn't only one-sided and it wasn't only about the desires of the flesh. There was something about her that called to his heart and his soul, something that made him feel young and alive and whole again.

Whatever protest she made at his decision to leave her care until later was lost in their kisses, her mind already hazed by this softness that seemed to make her heart beat harder as her lips plied his. Her hands were gentle as they skimmed over his sides, his shoulders, into his hair; everything about her was soft and serious, a strangely compelling contrast to the playful wench he had bedded only a week ago.

Whether he bedded her here or in the bed didn't matter much to him, though he was still of a mind that the bed was far more comfortable than the couch, where they might roll off and end up on the floor. She seemed ready for him and more than willing, and had his ribs not been bruised in that blasted fight, he would have picked her up and carried her there, but instead he could only move to his feet, pulling her along with him, ignoring the ache in his side in his hurry to quench the fire that was burning inside him. His lips reluctantly parted from hers before taking her hand and leading her silently toward the bedroom the two of them had wrestled in only a week before.

Ash was experiencing something almost wholly new to her. Oh, she'd been with enough men to know the spectrum of intimacy, but it had never felt quite this intense before. She'd never felt as though her kisses might be essential to his continued breathing, or that his touch was the only reason her heart was still beating. Was this how making love began' So many euphemisms, but there were distinctions, after all. As James drew her into the bedroom, she knew she was entering a realm she had not even dipped a toe into in the past. This wasn't just a physical connection; it was just desire, or lust, or a sense of obligation. There was something stronger in the heady undercurrent here, something that silenced her smart tongue as she found his lips to kiss once again, her fingers undoing each button on his vest, on his shirt, with aching slowness. She wanted to savor this, however long it might last, however madly she wanted to touch the flame they'd sparked between them. It was worth the wait.

If he'd been afraid they wouldn't be able to re-create the magic they'd shared their first time together, those first few kisses had set his mind at ease. There wasn't much to the dress she was wearing, and there might have been a time when he'd have preferred to cut it from her body, but he no longer wore a hook for a hand and he wasn't carrying a blade. He submitted himself to her, allowing her to undo his buttons, letting her take her time and savor each moment, just as he would with her. He brushed her hair back from her face, that simple touch as tender and intimate as his kiss. It seemed there were more layers to his clothing than there were to hers, but he suspected that beneath that sheath of black cloth that passed for a dress of sorts, she wore undergarments made more for seduction than for any other purpose, or so he thought. "Did you wear this for me?" he asked, as his hands found the small of her back, searching for some sort of fastenings that kept the blasted thing in place.

She bit her lip, almost embarrassed to admit that he had guessed accurately the reason she'd come out this evening so inappropriately dressed for the weather. "Will you laugh if I say yes?" she asked him in return, almost shy as she swayed against him, her hands warm now on his skin as they sought to touch beneath his clothing. "I wasn't sure you'd still fancy me, so ....I made an effort. I haven't worn a dress voluntarily for years." She paused, feeling his hands searching over her back, and laughed softly. "It just slips off," she told him. "No fastenings this time."

"I'm flattered, but there's no need to impress me. You have impressed me quite enough already," he assured her, a serious look on his face. It bothered him a little that she had not trusted him enough to think he might spurn her, but then he couldn't blame her when it had taken him a week to gather enough courage to contact her again. "You really have no idea how much I am in danger of losing my heart, are you?" he asked her incredulously, pausing in his search for buttons and laces.

"You haven't given me a straight answer," she told him in return, stroking her cheek against him. "You haven't lied, but you haven't told the truth, either. I'm blonde, not dumb." Lips brushed against his flesh, promising he would get his reward no matter what he said. It was up to him whether he wanted her to mistrust everything he said from this point onward.

From the look on his face, he was clearly both flustered and confused. He had never heard rumor that blondes were dumb, and hence, he was not sure why she felt the need to straighten him out on that point. And then, there was the fact that she was holding his most precious and treasured possession, quite literally, in her hands. He was at her mercy, and it both annoyed and frustrated him. "Can't this wait?" he asked, though from the look on her face, he could see how important this was to her and how much she truly cared for him, even if she didn't quite recognize it herself yet. "They took a small bag of gold. I am not fool enough to carry all my belongings on my person. And no, it is not safe. Not for one such as you, but it is safe enough for me, and I simply cannot afford more."

No doubt it was a great relief to him that she dropped the subject in the moment when he finally gave her a straight answer that was not vague or misleading, turning her full attention to making up for giving him the annoyance in the first place. She was as slow and thorough as he had been, determined to give as much as she had been given, to make love to him the way he had done to her, though they had yet to fully consummate the agreement that they had chosen each other yet. For now, he was in her hands, and she was going to show him just how caring those hands could be.

Relieved that she was done with her questions, he sank against the mattress, closing his eyes as he submitted himself to her, partly out of necessity and partly from sheer pleasure. Though he was not the kind to submit himself so easily, it was a testament to his trust in her that he did so willingly. "I do not understand the blonde reference," he murmured, his fingers tangling in her hair while she gave as well as she had received, with him at her mercy.

"It's a cultural thing," she explained softly, never ceasing her teasing efforts on his behalf. "Thanks to several generations of off-color jokes, the immediate image of a female idiot is one with blonde hair and enormous boobs." She flashed her grin up at him, tilting her head into his hair. "Sadly, all I qualify for is the hair."

"Ashlyn," he said, as she flashed him a grin, his expression entirely too serious. "Come here," he beckoned her, his eyes dark with desire. It was not that he wasn't enjoying her efforts, but he wanted something more than just physical gratification. He wanted to join with her, to share with her, to claim her and possess her, and he could not do that until she allowed it. But he was not the type of man to beg or plead; no, not even when his life was in peril. He was too proud for that.

Her grin widened as she obeyed, crawling over him to ravish his mouth with hungry kisses. "Ash," she whispered to him, giving him permission to shorten her name to the diminutive she preferred. As her body settled over his, she paused just briefly, nuzzling to him as their flesh aligned. "Not hurting you?"

"Never mind that. I can bear it," he told her, making a mental note to shorten her name as she desired. He wrapped her in his embrace as he breathed a soft sigh, her body fitting nearly perfectly with his, like two pieces of a puzzle. His lips found hers, effectively silencing her, as the two of them joined together.

This time, she didn't let impatience drive her. This time, she took charge at his bidding, moving slowly, tenderly, tormenting them both with the incredible shudder they shared as they rose and fell together. Kisses passed back and forth between them, too close for lust, too far for love, endearments tumbling from her lips to his as she steered them both toward the promises they had been making one another without the need for the spoken word.

Though he had slept with other women before, he had never met anyone quite like this one, never felt so utterly safe and secure in her arms, never so thoroughly fulfilled and contented as he did when the fire inside them was at last quenched. Never in his life had he met anyone like her, and somehow, he knew he never would again.

The promises they'd made were rewarded with gentle power, felt long after the first rush had abated. Ash sighed happily, easing herself down to his uninjured side as she curled against him, brushing her lips against his shoulder. It was far too soon for words of love, though she could easily see herself loving this man, even after so short an acquaintance. But to love him, she needed to protect him, and she already knew what she was going to do about that. "That was fun."

"Fun," he echoed, the chuckle making him wince a little as he tried to make himself comfortable beside her. At least she wasn't curled up against his bad side. "I do not recall anyone calling it fun before, but I suppose you're right." At least, not with him. "Are all modern women so assertive?" he asked curiously, tilting his head to look at her. She seemed to know what she wanted and let nothing stop her from getting it - this time, it just happened to be him.

She laughed at the query. "I'm not that assertive," she admitted. "I mean ....this is kind of unusual for me, but you're just too good not to make a play for before another woman tries it. Some women are like this all the time, others aren't. It's just a part of the way we're raised these days."

"I am, aren't I?" he asked, with a smirk that made it hard to tell if he was being facetious or if his ego really was that over-inflated. He slid an arm around her shoulders to draw her close, a silver chain holding a stylized cross in the shape of a sword resting against his chest, the only thing she hadn't managed to strip from him.

Whether he was serious or not, his agreement made her laugh once again as he drew her close into his uninjured side. "Good enough to eat," she teased him, nipping at his chest. "Oh, wait ....I've already done that a few times." She winked up at him, daring the gentleman out of time to be shocked by her words.

"The feeling is mutual," he said, with a grin. He'd returned that favor a few times already, and they'd only slept together twice. "Tell me, Ash ..." he started, shifting a little against the pillows so he could see her better. "Why did you decide to meet me at The Eagle when I'd behaved like such an ass at the theater?"

She bit her lip, considering her answer. "I acted on impulse," she admitted softly, one hand gently toying with the cross that lay against his chest. "There you were, this gorgeous man who seemed as though he needed a friend. Why shouldn't I have met you at The Eagle" I'm the one who suggested it, after all. So maybe the real question is ....why were you waiting for me?"

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not every day a beautiful woman asks to meet me for a drink," he said with a smile, but that was only part of the truth, and he was a little too proud to tell her the rest, though she seemed to have guessed some of it already.

"If it becomes an everyday occurrence, there'll be a lot less beautiful women in Rhy'Din City by the time I'm through," she warned with a grin. She didn't really have it in her to actually hurt someone; she was more likely to drown any rival in tears. But that was a side of herself that she tried very hard to keep hidden, the little girl lost who got hurt so very easily. "Would you consider this part of town safe, captain?"

"On the contrary, lass," he told her with a soft smile, touching her cheek again. "I am happy when I'm with you, and that is something I have not felt in a very long time. So, aye, I will stay. For now." He did not make any promises just yet. It was too soon for promises, but perhaps not too soon to hope.

Her expression relaxed, her smile warm as he agreed, at least for the time being. Careful not to squeeze, she curled her arms about him, kissing him once more. "You know ....it's almost time to decorate for Christmas," she murmured. "Wanna trim a tree with me this year?"

"Trim a tree?" he asked, unfamiliar with most modern customs and traditions, at least where holidays were concerned. It wasn't something he'd had a chance to research yet, as there were more important things on his mind.

She blinked, surprised to find that he wasn't familiar with that custom. "Oh, wow." Laughing, she nuzzled to him affectionately. "Okay, we'll do Christmas in stages," she promised him. "But the main tradition is to bring an evergreen tree into your home and decorate it. It's kind of fun."

He laughed, as she at last seemed to realize just how old he really was - or at least, how out of place he was in this time and this place. "Love, when last I was in England, it was 1745." That should give her some kind of idea how much catching up he had to do, though he was looking at her strangely when she mentioned the tree again. "Whatever for?" he asked curiously.

"I have absolutely no idea," she admitted with a giggle. "But I bet I could find out. To be honest, I just like hanging pretty lights up and making the place feel festive. Didn't you celebrate Christmas in the 1700's?"

"Well, aye, but mostly we celebrate ....celebrated Twelfth Night. Is that not the custom here?" he asked, curiously. He was from an England that was pre-Victorian, pre-Dickens, pre-all the traditional customs that had become part of the Yule celebrations both here and on Earth.

Fascinated, Ashlyn eased up, her head propped on her hand as she looked down at him. "No, we celebrate Christmas," she told him. "Well, my family does, and a lot of other families do. There are a lot of festivals held at the same time as Christmas, which is why the season is called Winterfest in Rhy'Din. But yeah, we celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and then again on New Year's Eve. I've never celebrated on Twelfth Night - isn't that the Epiphany?"

He tucked the blanket around her as it seemed she was in no hurry to leave the bed just yet, now that the conversation had changed once again. "Aye ....Well, 'tis the night before Epiphany. I am not certain when that is here, but it is after the New Year."

"It's still a Catholic feast," she reassured him with a smile, touched by the way he made the effort to cover her as she had covered him. "I think you can rely on the Catholic Church not to have changed too much in the last two hundred years or so."

"I have not been to church in a very long time," he mused aloud, wondering however he would confess such a thing. Was there any priest who would believe him, much less grant him absolution' He knew there were a few churches and temples about the city, but he did not know if any of them were Catholic. There were admittedly no churches in Neverland.

"We could go together sometime," she suggested. "I don't go as often as I should, I guess. My mom goes every week, but I go maybe once a month, if I remember." She cringed comically with guilt. "Just never tell her that. She still thinks I'm a good girl."

"Here in Rhy'Din?" he asked, not wanting to assume. He'd already told her he could never return to Earth - not just the Earth of his time, but any time period on Earth, past, present, or future. "I've corrupted you," he said, looking just a little too proud of that fact.

"Yes, here in Rhy'Din," she assured him cheerfully. "There's the cathedral - Our Lady of Perpetual Misery - or there are smaller churches scattered through the city. I usually go to St. Aubyn's when I feel the need to top up on my spiritualism." The proud look on his face made her laugh. "Well, you've started to corrupt me. Might take a while to make me a proper bad girl, even if it's for your eyes only."

"Perpetual Misery?" he echoed, chuckling. "That's terrible!" Another thought occurred to him, one that sobered him a little. "Do you know how long it's been since I've been to church?" It was a rhetorical question really, since she could likely make a pretty good guess. "I'll be saying penance for the rest of my life!" he added with another chuckle, seemingly none too concerned about it.

She shrugged with a smile. "You could always omit to mention certain sins," she pointed out impishly. "After all, if God is omniscient, he already knows what you've done, and if he hasn't punished you for it yet, then I don't think he's going to, do you?"

"Punished me?" He chuckled again at the irony of her statement. "I've spent over two centuries marooned on Neverland. I'd say that's punishment enough." He wasn't really sure who'd been responsible for it or how he'd managed to end up there, but it was clear he hadn't enjoyed his time there, and yet, if he'd stayed in his own time, he'd have been dead a long time ago.

"You know what I mean," she murmured, leaning down to touch a kiss to his lips. "That's the beauty of Rhy'Din, love. You don't have to do anything. Well, not if you don't want to. I figure you're a little too proud to be my kept man." She grinned teasingly.

He furrowed his brows at her, as she confused him further. "I'm not sure what you mean, lass. How does one earn a living if one does nothing?" And no, if he caught her meaning correctly, he was definitely a little too proud to be a kept man.

"Well, I mean, you could marry a rich heiress or whatever and live off her inheritance," she laughed, shaking her head. "I mean that you don't have to be set in the restraints of the time you came from, or even the skillset you believe you have. You're a captain, yes. But that doesn't mean you have to be a pirate captain."

"What do you suggest I do?" he asked, curiously. Clearly, he had other skills, abilities, and knowledge to fall back on, though his love for the sea would always figure chiefly in his life. It was something they had in common, in a way, if they could only sort out a way to work together.

"I don't really know much about fleets and ships and things," she admitted. "But you could always get in contact with the merchant fleet attached to my family's business. One of my cousins is the captain of one of the escort ships that sails the trade routes, maybe that would suit you?"

"Perhaps," he replied with a sigh, realizing with a heavy heart that if he sailed with a merchant ship, he might be gone for weeks or even months at a time, but the same went for her while she was away doing research. He said nothing of it though, not wanting to trouble her. After all, they had only known each other a short while. The fact was, though, that both their chosen professions would take them out to sea eventually, unless ....No, he was sure her ship already had a captain and a crew. "You should get some rest, love," he told her quietly, tucking the blanket up over her and touching a gentle kiss to her brow.

Ashlyn knew what thoughts were going through his mind as he sighed. She was already scheduled to go out on a research trip in January, and that would last six weeks, already a length of time she was unhappy to think of being away from him. But needs must. Drawn down beneath the blanket, she sighed with him, tucking herself close. "Just so long as you rest, too," she told him in return. "You're the one recovering."

"'Tis nothing, lass. Just bruises. 'Tis my pride that suffers the most," he assured her with a faint smile, trying to make light of it. After all, he had suffered far worse. A few bruised ribs wouldn't kill him. "Go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I," she smiled, kissing his chest gently. "I'm all yours." Sighing softly, she nestled against him, curled against his side with trusting affection.

He couldn't help but wonder if she really meant that or how long she'd continue to feel that way, especially with her away at sea. Did absence really make the heart grow fonder or did it only make the heart forgetful" "Sleep well, love," he whispered, as she tucked herself against his side. Tired though he might be, it was going to take some time before he could quiet his mind and drift off to sleep. She had given him a lot to think about, and he was going to have to make some decisions soon that could affect the rest of their lives.

They might only have known each other a short time, but in Rhy'Din, some connections were made in a split second. From the moment Ashlyn had caught his arm in the theater, she'd been his, and no amount of separation would change that. They'd find a way, together.

((Who'd have thought one trip to the theater would solve all Dom's concerns about his baby sister" :grin: Well, okay, maybe not all of them ....Huge thanks to James' player!))