To say that Rhy'Din was an assault on the senses was a bit of an understatement. To add that Rhy'Din thirty-eight years into the future for the newest additions to its wonderful mix of the normal, fantastical, and out of this world was just a little mind-blowing was also an understatement. Helena had done her best to warn Tommy and Jack about the many unusual things and peoples they were going to come across, but some things just had to be jumped into head first. Thus, she'd given both men absolutely no choice but to come out with her for the evening, just a couple of days after they had arrived. After all, the business with the surfboard had been taken care of, they were settled in Willow Manor for now, and the beach had been well and truly declared perfect. Why not choose now to dip a toe into Rhy'Din's night life"

She hadn't chosen anywhere too vastly strange for their first outing, though. The bar they were heading to dealt with mostly humanoid clientele, though that still covered a plethora of races that weren't human. And she had quite deliberately chosen this bar on this night for one reason in particular, which would, for now, remain unknown to both men. It was an open mic night, and she had a better than good hunch that someone she knew was going to be there.

Tommy had thankfully taken it all in stride, just as he had his first time around through the portal, which now hadn't even really happened, as far as he was concerned. To say he'd gotten excited about the beach and the surf was an understatement, however, and he was already making plans for a new shop and talking about designing a new board specially designed for Rhy'Din.

Jack, on the other hand, was like a kid in a candy store. He was full of questions, wide-eyed with wonder at the sights and sounds of Rhy'Din. He wasn't yet sure what he was going to do with his life here, but he wasn't too worried about it just yet. Whatever Tommy had planned, he was sure he'd be part of it somehow. And while Tommy kept waiting for someone to pinch him and wake him up from a dream, Jack was the one who had embraced Rhy'Din with wide-eyed childlike wonder.

The words "night out" had produced an interesting response in both of them as well. Lena had told them they didn't need to dress up for this outing, no more than they would normally, but for some reason a certain amount of playful excitement had spread through the house once she'd informed her pair of hippies they were going out for the evening. For once, it was the woman who was ready to go first, waiting patiently in the great room at Willow Manor for her evening's escorts to make their appearance.

The idea of a night on the town was met with excitement from both men, though Tommy was suspicious about what exactly Lena had planned. He knew she was planning on setting his friend up with her cousin, but he wasn't sure if she was going to choose going out for a night on the town as an excuse to do it. Jack had yet to emerge from the bathroom, taking more time in there than a woman, according to Tommy. When he had finally emerged, it had been without the scraggly overgrown beard, hair trimmed to a more reasonable length, glasses gone from his face. He was almost unrecognizable in a lime green leisure suit - the only one he owned - a print shirt beneath the jacket, open at the front, a chain dangling from his neck from which hung a Peace symbol. The laughter that bubbled up from Tommy at the sight of his friend echoed throughout the house, reaching the great room to announce their arrival before they got there.

As for Tommy, he was dressed in an equally ridiculous-looking psychedelic print shirt and matching bell bottom pants, along with a pair of worn leather sandals, his blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was hard to tell which of them looked more out of date and ridiculous.

The sound of laughter was enough to draw Lena's attention to the doorway as they entered, her own reaction to the change in Jack's appearance bright and genuine. The suit ....well, that she could have lived without ever having seen at all, but the rest' "Jack, you look gorgeous," she told him, absolutely sincere in that compliment. She was pretty sure that one way or another she or someone else would be able to steer him away from lime green and that suit over the next few months. As for Tommy' She just about managed to keep her laughter in check to avoid hurting anyone's feelings, but she could foresee a shopping trip in the very near future. "You both look fantastic," she lied through her teeth with a grin, moving to join them, pretty glad she'd gone with dark and understated for the evening herself. Looping her arm about Tommy's waist, she met Jack's gaze with a smile. "No glasses" I like."

Tommy grinned, pleased at the compliment, not realizing how ridiculous and out of date he looked. And what did he care" It was Rhy'Din. Every night was like Halloween here. He might as well look the part.

Jack frowned uncertainly, feeling half naked with all that hair gone from his face. It hadn't helped that Tommy had laughed at him, though his friend's laughter was not malicious in any way, just amused.

"Come on, Romeo," Tommy teased, reaching over to ruffle Jack's much shorter mane. "Let's see what the girls think of the new you."

"Hey, it wouldn't kill you to have a trim, you know," Lena nudged Tommy teasingly, knowing from experience that Jack was probably wavering on whether or not he wanted to go out at all tonight. Laughter was just going to make him want to hide inside until it all grew back again. She reached out to loop her arm through Jack's, leading both men out the front door before either one could put up much of a fight. "No arguments, we're taking the car tonight," she informed them. No way in hell was she going to get out of Tommy's van with them both looking like that.

"Me?" exclaimed Tommy, more than a little defensively. As far as he was concerned, he didn't have to make much of an effort. He already had a girl who liked him just fine the way he was. It was Jack who was the problem child. "Oh, no," Tommy muttered with a chuckle. "No one is touching this hair. It's taken me years to get it just right!"

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh at his friend. "You could have at least worn a suit."

Tommy turned a glare on Jack. "I don't own a suit, and you look like you're ready for the disco."

"At least, I made an effort!" Jack shot back, his freshly-trimmed boyish face flushing with anger.

"Get a haircut, Boom-Boom," was Dru's rather cheeky response to Tommy's warning, offered up from a wide grin. She was enjoying this lighter side of Helena, which seemed to be entirely because of the two wild men of the 1970's she'd brought back to Rhy'Din with her. Her grin gentled as Jack passed by. "Night, gorgeous," she called after him, letting them get out of sight before she closed her door.

Lena heard it all, of course, giggling to herself as she led Tommy and Jack out of the house. "Just as well this place is open 'til the early hours," she commented with a grin. "We're not gonna miss too much."

"Boom-Boom?" Tommy echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, a little bit lost as the three of them headed out for the evening.

There was a wide grin on Jack's face. He had not only got the Lena seal of approval but even better, Dru had called him gorgeous. Maybe there really was hope for him yet.

"Are we taking your brother's car?" Tommy asked curiously. He'd been eying the Bentley covetously since their arrival at Maple Grove. He liked his van well enough, but there was a time and place for it, and he sensed this night out was neither.

"My brother will kill you if you even breathe wrong on his car," she warned Tommy, drawing them toward the little garage that was attached to Willow Manor. A little negotiating while the men were getting changed had gotten her the keys to Dru's Aston Martin, which she had a feeling wouldn't be so crowded as her own car. "He loves it with a passion he reserves for his wife, daughter, and dog." She grinned, pausing by the handsome car. "Hop in then, gorgeous and handsome. No time like the present."

"I haven't met him yet," Tommy remarked. "Are you sure he really exists?" he teased as she drew them both toward the garage. He hadn't quite gotten over the fact that she was obviously from a very well-to-do family, but he hadn't had much time to think about it either. He didn't want her thinking that he was only interested in her for her money, and that worried him a little.

Jack's mouth dropped open at the sight of the car. "Oh, my god," he whispered in obvious awe. He was definitely way out of his league.

That was the thing - Tommy didn't need to worry. Lena knew he wasn't interested in money; in fact, it was probably more of a turn off for him than anything. She knew he wasn't in this for the money. "Are you suggesting I've made up a brother, a sister-in-law, and a niece?" she laughed indignantly back to Tommy, pressing the button on the key to unlock the doors of the car. Jack's reaction made her smile. "Hey, if you're nice to Dru, she'd probably let you drive it, you know. But for now ....get in, boys."

Jack didn't even own a car of his own. He and Tommy had shared the van, just as Robby had with Tommy. Neither of them had much money, and it felt a little weird to be living a lifestyle that was far above their means, but so far, neither had said much about it. "Seeing is believing," Tommy remarked, a teasing smirk on his face, nudging Jack with an elbow and reaching over to push his friend's mouth close. "Come on, Leroy, you're drooling."

Leaving the men to get themselves into the car, Lena slid behind the wheel, spending a moment adjusting the seat until she was more comfortable. Dru was shorter than her by several inches, and had an annoying habit of sitting close enough to the wheel to rest her elbows on it while she was driving. She started the engine, pulling her belt into place as she waited for the pair of them to join her. It was pretty obvious that neither Tommy nor Jack were entirely comfortable living at Willow Manor with the resources of the Grangers at their fingertips. They were going to be even more uncomfortable when she showed them the plans for the shop and house yet to be built, with an optional house just for Jack, but she was going to worry about that another time. Tonight's mission was just getting out of Maple Grove before she turned grey, it seemed.

"I'm calling shotgun!" Tommy exclaimed.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. He had no intention of sitting in the front seat beside Tommy's girlfriend. That was obviously Tommy's place. He was perfectly happy to sit in the back seat. Both men climbed in, but neither put their seat-belt on as it wasn't a requirement where they came from. Jack quieted as soon as he was seated, hands clenched nervously in his lap. He was being forced to go out against his will, and the shy, soft-hearted young man was more than a little nervous about it. He would have been perfectly happy to stay behind and keep Dru company, but Lena - and Tommy, by extension - had insisted.

Tommy pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and started to light one up, "So, where are we going?" he asked, the cigarette bobbing between his lips.

"You're not smoking in Dru's car, Tommy," Lena told him before he could get the flame to the end of his cigarette. "Try it, and I'll toss it out the window." She had yet to explain the medical implications of smoking to him, figuring that he'd be more likely to listen if she had a few flashcards to show him when she tackled it. "At the bar, it'll be fine, just not in here." She glanced into the rear-view mirror, checking on Jack even as the car drew out of the gates of Maple Grove and turned toward the city. She knew he wasn't exactly eager to be on this outing, but hopefully he'd get over that with a little encouragement.

"What?" Tommy asked, brows furrowing, the flame from the lighter mere inches from the end of the cigarette. "Why not?" he continued, the cigarette still stuck between his lips.

"Haven't you heard?" interjected a voice from the back seat. "It causes cancer. It's been all over the news."

"Why is it that everything fun is no good for me?" Tommy complained, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and shoving it back in the pack before Lena tossed it out the window.

"Not everything," Jack replied, helpfully.

Tommy slid a possessive arm around Lena's waist as he arrived at her side, clearly staking his claim for anyone who might want to notice or challenge him. He wasn't that good with women, and he was determined to hang onto this one. "It's nice to meet you, too, Jasmin," he replied politely. He couldn't help but notice that she was a looker, but he had already met the girl of his dreams, and she didn't have to worry about anyone else competing for his heart or attention. Tommy glanced back at Jack who was still standing glued to the same spot. "He's shy," Tommy explained, waving Jack over. "Come on, she won't bite! We haven't got all night!"

"He won't bite, either," Lena added in a gentler tone. Perhaps it was strange, that the plainer of the two cousins should be the one being reassuring in the face of a handsome man, but Jasmin hadn't had the best of luck with men on the whole, and she was shy of handsome men anyway. They always seemed to overlook her and go for someone else, and she'd never quite been able to work out why.

Flicking a look to Lena that promised they were going to have a long talk about this at some point soon, Jaz seemed to steel herself, offering her shy smile over to Jack.

Lena's smile turned a bit secretive, and she leaned up to murmur into Tommy's ear. "Think they can handle introducing themselves, or will we have to get them drunk first?"

Tommy smirked at Lena's question, turning his head to whisper back, "Why don't we go inside and see what happens?" he whispered back, assuming without them there, the pair would have no choice but to introduce themselves to each other. Jack had started walking slowly toward the trio, thankfully not shuffling his feet on the way.

"Good plan." Lena grinned back to Tommy, giving him a gentle tug toward the door. "We'll see you in there," she told Jasmin as they stepped past her.

Jaz started, surprised that her cousin was just going to walk away and leave her to navigate the hello by herself, tempted to just follow them inside. But she wasn't a cruel person by nature, and the other guy looked more nervous than she was. So she stayed where she was, her shoulders rising and falling in an apologetic shrug as Jack drew closer. "Ever get the feeling you've been set up?"

"You, too, huh?" Jack replied as he at last, and more than a bit reluctantly, reached his destination, which had really only been a short walk from where Lena had parked the car. "I'm Jack," he volunteered, offering an awkward hand. It didn't seem quite right to give a girl a handshake, but he wasn't really sure what else to do.

Her hand closed around his, warm and only a little tentative as she shook it, her grip revealing calluses on the tips of her fingers that must have come from playing a guitar. "I'm Jasmin," she introduced herself in return, her smile relaxing a little now the scariest part was out of the way. He was handsome; better looking than all of the men she'd ever dated combined. Beautiful eyes ... Sliding her hand free, she looked through the door into the pub, turning her glance back onto Jack. "Um ....may I buy you a drink, Jack?"

"I know," he replied, holding onto her hand a little longer than was necessary or polite, forcing himself not to tremble. She was beautiful, there was no other word to describe her, but he'd known that already before he'd met her. Not beautiful like a sunset or a work of art - she was beautiful in a way he'd never experienced before. It was the kind of beauty that took your breath away. The summit of beauty and love, and Venus was her name... He fell into her eyes, lost for a moment in the rapture of her beauty, until she glanced away and the spell was broken. "I, uh....Sure, I guess," he replied, wanting to kick himself for not asking her first.

Realizing she might have jumped the gun a little for asking, Jasmin's smile flickered back into life once again as she stepped aside, inviting him with her body language to walk in alongside her. "I, um, I get performer's discount in here," she explained awkwardly. "I do Thursdays, seven through to eleven, and then a band takes over for the rest of the night. So they don't make me pay so much when I order."

"Midge....Helena," he started, stammering, quick to correct himself. "She said you're a musician. Do you write your own music?" he asked, reaching around her to pull open the door like a perfect gentleman. Though he might not have much experience with women, at least he knew how to be polite. "I play guitar a little. I'm not very good."

Despite the curious glance she gave him at the revealing slip of Lena's nickname, Jasmin didn't linger on it, murmuring a grateful thank you as he pulled the door open for her. The sounds of the bar hit them as they entered, low level chatter mingling with the live music being performed on the little stage toward the back. The people there were, as Lena had assured the men, mostly humanoid, nothing too out of the ordinary to surprise them, but what stood out was the sheer number of instruments about the place. Most of these people had come out to take part in the open mic, already with slots booked for themselves to perform in front of their peers. It was a friendly, safe atmosphere they created, welcoming to those who were not such familiar faces.

Jaz visibly relaxed as they entered, obviously more in her element than she had been out on the street. "Yeah, I, uh, I write my own stuff," she answered Jack's question, having to lean close so he could hear her as they moved toward the bar itself. "I-I do a lot of covers, too. People like to request songs. I'd like to hear you play sometime. Will you be getting up there tonight?"

He leaned his head toward her so he could hear her over the music and the bar chatter, close enough that he could hear her but not so close that their heads were touching. He noticed the stammer, surprised to find she seemed as nervous as he was, though he wasn't sure why. He stepped out in front of her to clear a path to the bar, squeezing around and between groups of chattering people with a few polite, "Pardon mes." He had to lean toward her again to hear her question. "Who, me?" he asked, shaking his head. "No, I....I don't think so."

She smiled, understanding that being shy and getting up on a stage didn't always mix. "Maybe another time, then," she suggested, one hand resting on his back as he cleared their path. "One on one, maybe? Less intimidating." It was a friendly suggestion, one she wouldn't have made to just anyone. But she trusted Lena, and so far, Jack wasn't anything but sweet. She couldn't really see that changing.

"Bikini," he admitted. "Looked like something out of Playboy Maga..." He broke off, his turn to blush. "Sorry, I-I don't mean you're, you know..." He sighed, wishing for the second time that he could kick himself. "I just mean that you're....pretty. More than pretty. Gorgeous. A goddess. Oh, Christ. I'm just gonna shut up now."

Thankfully for his peace of mind, all she took away from that rather endearing ramble was the compliment, and it was a surprising shock. All pretense of being confident and self-assured went out of the window, revealing the rather innocent young woman underneath it all. Wide hazel eyes, slightly incredulous smile, her gaze fixed on his with sweet disbelief. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted, unable to lie even if he wanted to, and why would he want to' Was she toying with him' She had to already know she was drop dead gorgeous. He was pretty sure she could have any guy she wanted. "I mean, you're gorgeous. I'm not just saying that either. I wouldn't lie about that."

"Thank you." Her voice was just a little wondering. She'd never been told she was pretty before; there had been plenty of men who'd told her she was beautiful, she was perfect, but she hadn't believed them. Because in the end, they'd left her, after ripping her apart because she wasn't perfect enough, she wasn't what they wanted. And now a handsome man who seemed sweet and gentle had told her he found her pretty, and she could feel that compliment hitting home. "Wow, I ....thank you, Jack." Her blush had risen again, her gaze dropping between them for a moment before lifting shy eyes to his once again. "You're very handsome, you know. You have beautiful eyes." Oh gods, did I just say that out loud"

"You have to know that already, don't you?" he asked, somewhat incredulous himself that she didn't seem to know how gorgeous she was. It was his turn to blush when she offered him a compliment, though he didn't really believe it. He pushed his fingers nervously through his hair, shoving it aside, not used to the feel of the new cut just yet. He felt almost naked without the long hair and beard and sunglasses to hide behind. "No, I'm not, but thanks for saying so."

"Yes, you are," she shrugged one shoulder again, her smile almost apologetic for making him feel uncomfortable with a little unthinking honesty. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, right' I think you're handsome. Take the compliment."

Taking a drink from her bottle, she glanced up as the organizer of the night pushed over to them, bending to call into her ear. "Harry's next, and then you're up!" Nodding, she grinned at Eida, a more than scruffy-looking human male in his fifties, who chuckled and moved away again.

He took another swig of his beer while she and the scruffy-looking man conversed, hearing enough to know that she was up next. "I thought you worked Thursdays," he pointed out, wondering if she was hoping for a big break or if she enjoyed performing so much she was willing to do it for free once in a while.

Turning back to Jack easily as soon as Eida was done, Jasmin leaned close once more to answer. "I do work here Thursdays," she confirmed for him. "I do Wednesdays at The Eagle Eye, Sunday afternoons I play the bar at the Sapphire Hotel. Everything else is flexible, but I like open mic nights. You get to hear new music, or old music done in a new way, and you get to mix and match with other musicians. Almost everyone here is a musician, whether they earn a living at it or not. And we all support each other. It takes a lot of guts to get up there behind the mic - you'll never meet a better crowd to do it in front of."

He smiled a little, perhaps his first smile all night. "Are you trying to talk me into signing up for a slot?" he asked, in mild amusement. Even though he fancied himself a musician, he had never played in public, at least, not in front of an audience in a bar like this one. "Are you hoping for a recording contract, or do you just like playing live?" he asked, shifting the questions away from himself.

"Hey, you could come up and play for me," she offered with a grin, pleased to see him smile. Without thinking, she let her thumb brush the corner of his smiling mouth gently. "You should smile more often, it suits you." Taking another swift drink, she set her bottle down, lifting her guitar across her knee to check its tuning as he turned the question on to her again. "Why would I want to record anything?" she asked curiously. "Nothing compares with a live audience, even if they're not listening. Music's not just about what you hear, it's about what you feel. I want to share that, I don't want to be cut out because someone's listening to me on a radio or something." Music was obviously her passion, her nerves fading as they spoke about it.

He blinked at her touch, not having expected it, even as brief as it was. He studied her as she pulled away and took up her guitar, gaze drifting to her mouth, thoughts wandering to wonder what it would feel like to taste those lips. Were they as soft as they seemed" He blinked out of his thoughts, blushing again as she spoke again, turning his question back at him. "Recording allows you to share your music with people who might not be able to hear it otherwise, and it preserves it." He leaned forward, his interest piqued as the conversation turned to a subject he was equally passionate about. "Take Elvis, for example. Who will ever hear his music after he's gone if he doesn't record it?"

"You make a good point," Jasmin agreed, not even attempting to argue that point in favor of making her own. "But there are thousands of musicians and-and-and songwriters throughout history, even in the last century, that never recorded anything they wrote or performed. Songs that are lost to time, because no one wrote them down or etched them onto vinyl, but those are still songs that touched people and forged a link between the ones who sang them and the ones who heard them. I'm not saying recording and mass production is a bad thing, I'm just saying that I, personally, prefer the intimacy of knowing each every time I sing or play, that it's for just a handful of people who are there, listening to me, because they want to be."

"Okay," he agreed, understanding her point. "I see what you're saying, so long as it pays the bills, I guess. I mean, fame isn't everything, and money doesn't make you happy. I just play because I love to play. That's all. I don't really want to be rich or famous. I just love the music. That's all." So, was what he was saying much different than her? He wasn't sure. He looked over and nodded at the small stage. "I think you're up."

Jasmin's smile flickered, a little wry, a little self-deprecating. She leaned closer to speak into his ear. "School's for the people who need plans and schemes," she shared her philosophy with him, taking advantage of the closeness to breathe in the scent of his hair. He was by far the nicest guy she'd ever met outside the family, and he seemed to like her, despite her wild veering between shy and confident. "I dropped out at sixteen, decided to take it easy. Seems to work for me."

He turned toward her as she leaned close, so close he hardly heard anything she said. He didn't bother to point out that her family had the money to make those kinds of choices. He didn't want to make any assumptions or make her angry on the first date, set up, whatever this was. He'd seen it time and again back home - guys who didn't have to worry about the war because they came from families who could buy their way out, sending their sons to college to avoid the draft. He hadn't been from a privileged family; he wasn't a "Fortunate Son". But this was a different time and a different place, and he doubted she'd have ever even heard of Vietnam. "You make a living as a musician then."

"Yeah, I do," she nodded, drawing back just far enough to be able to see his face as they talked, but not so far she had to strain to hear him. One brow rose as she made a guess at what was going through his mind. "I pay my own way, too," she added. "I live in my parents' house because my dad built it for my mom, but I'm not spending their money. What would be the point?"

He wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together as well as the next guy, and the way she talked about her parents sounded like they were no longer part of the picture. Divorced" Missing" Dead" It sounded like her father had loved her mother, so not divorced. Missing seemed unlikely. Lena would have mentioned it. Process of elimination only left one answer. "I'm sorry," he replied, both for her loss and for being nosy. But if you weren't at least a little bit nosy, how were you supposed to get to know someone" He had never quite figured that one out.

Jaz shook her head. "It's okay, I get it," she assured him. "I got a lot of hassle when I started trying to make my own way, you know" A lot of people thought I was just a spoiled little rich kid passing the time, but my parents made me pay rent and buy my own food. They didn't let me coast, they made me learn how to take care of myself. Okay, so some months I live on toast, but I get by." She smiled as her gaze wandered over his face, finally giving into the urge to gently skim her fingers into his hair, drawing the freshly-snipped locks back from his brow. "You sure you're not gettin' up tonight?" she asked, sensing that he didn't want to delve into his own backstory. "You can use my guitar."

He smiled a little at her explanation, not because he was relieved by it, but because he was trying to be kind and understanding. "Toast isn't really a meal, you know. Not even for breakfast." He blinked again when she reached out to touch his hair, resisting the urge to flinch or pull away. He was about to tell her how he'd only just cut it a few days ago, but then she was drawing his attention back to the stage. He turned that way, not so much noticing the stage or who was playing there, but the crowd that was gathered around, some listening, some not. "I don't think so. I mean, I haven't got any songs prepared." Like that was an excuse. He had more than enough material committed to memory.

Realizing she'd made him uncomfortable by reaching out to touch, Jasmin winced, drawing her hand back as she pulled away a little. "Sorry," she apologized. "I get a little too comfortable when I'm drinking with someone I like." As if to underline that point, she laid her hand against his leg to push herself back properly, taking a fresh drink of her ale. "The hallway behind the bar's pretty quiet if you want to prepare something, you know. Hell, I'll sing with you if you want someone up there to take the pressure off."

"It's okay, I just....I'm not very good at this. I haven't been on a date in..." He frowned, not even sure when the last time was, unsure he'd have even called it a date. "It's not you, Jasmin. You're....You're beautiful. Hell, you're perfect..." He sighed, wondering why he was even telling her this, but before he had a chance to say anything else, to make excuses why he didn't want to get up in front of a crowd, someone was calling his name.

A gentle frown touched her brow as he used that one word she hated more than any other. "I'm not perfect, Jack," she told him, shaking her head. "If I was, I wouldn't be lonely, would I?" Blushing at giving away that much without prompting, she glanced up as a name was called through the crowd, wondering what happened that Eida had somehow managed not to warn the next person they were up.

Jack glanced toward the stage, waiting to see if someone else would answer the summons. After all, his name - or more accurately, the name he had assumed - was common enough that he might not be the only one there, but no one got up, no one moved. "Jack," the emcee called, "Jack Smith." The sound of a familiar whistle came from a corner of the room and Jack looked over to find Tommy on his feet, whistling and waving him forward, which brought a fresh blush to Jack's face.

"Come on up, Jack. Don't be shy. It's a friendly crowd!" the voice called encouragement.

As Jaz looked around, she realized that the Jack being called was the Jack sitting right next to her, following his gaze to where her cousin's boyfriend was waving and whistling. She rolled her eyes, guessing what had happened. "Oh, now that's just cruel," she said with a faint snort of laughter. One hand patted Jack's knee as she leaned over to fish her guitar out of the case. "C'mon, kid, you're up whether you like it or not. Give my baby a good strumming."

Jack's flush had faded, his face chalk white, terrified at the idea of getting up in front of a crowd, but knowing - like Tommy had known a few days earlier - that it was now or never. Put up or shut up. What was the worst that could happen" He could get laughed off the stage, or worse, booed. "What should I play?" he asked, as he turned that chalk white face to Jasmin.

"Play what comes into your head," she told him, gently easing him up onto his feet as she slung the guitar about his neck, raising her hand to assure Eida that he was on his way. "Play the songs you know the best. Just play, Jack. No one here is gonna take you down for getting up there."

He flashed a grin as people rushed onto stage to join in and add their part to the song, fleshing it out and making it their own. His voice grew stronger as he moved from the first stanza into the second and finally into the third, relaxing a little now that he knew no one was going to boo him off stage or throw tomatoes at him, realizing the audience was enjoying the music as much as he was. "I've got no deeds to do, No promises to keep, I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life, I love you, All is groovy." He let the others on stage finish the song with a chorus of more ba da das, following along with his guitar until he finally broke off.

This time there was no brief hush - the accolades had begun before the impromptu band had finished, whistles mingling with cheers and applause from pretty much everyone in the crowded bar. Jaz was one of the loudest whistlers, perhaps surprisingly, as encouraging as anyone of new talent, and more encouraging to those she knew, even if it had only been for an hour or so.

Tommy beamed a grin, overjoyed for his friend and celebrating by planting a kiss on the girl who was sat on his lap. Jack flushed in embarrassment, but was smiling and even took a short bow, muttering some thanks before weaving his way back through the crowd toward Jasmin, a few pats on the back from complete strangers along the way. Once there, he lifted the guitar from around his neck to offer it back to her with another mumbled, "Thanks," and a sigh of relief.

As her fingers curled about the neck of her guitar once again, Jasmin surprised both of them by curling her other arm about Jack's neck, drawing him in for a warm hug. "Well done," she congratulated him through her smile, drawing back with another deep blush. "You're really good!"

He was surprised by the hug and unsure what to do about it, he awkwardly returned it, slipping a single arm around her waist, mirroring the blush that rose to her face, with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm okay. Not as good as you. I've only been playing a few years."

"Trust me, it doesn't show," she promised him, surprised to find how comfortable his arm about her waist was, despite how little they knew of each other. Drawing him back to sit down, she slid her guitar back into its case, flashing him a smile. "We should jam sometime, you and me. Could be fun."

"What, like Sonny and Cher?" he teased as he retook his seat, before realizing that she might not even know who the musical couple were. "Sorry, I'm dating myself again." He looked no more than in his mid-twenties, thirty-eight years in the future.

Jaz laughed, feeling a lot more comfortable with him now he'd been up on stage, now she'd heard him sing and seen just how at ease he was with a guitar. "Better than Sonny and Cher, I hope," she smiled cheerfully, her head tilting to one side as she considered him for a moment. "Where did Lena find you?"

He smiled back at her, glad he'd made her laugh, starting to relax a little, until her question brought another frown to his face, and he wondered just how much or how little Lena had told her about him. "She didn't tell you?" he asked, a thumbnail nervously picking at the label on his Silvermark.

"She didn't tell me anything," she told him honestly, settling comfortably into the couch they were sat on, one knee crossing the other once again as she gave him her full attention. "You don't have to tell me either, you know. I'm just curious."

He shrugged one shoulder as he took a pull off his Silvermark. She was going to find out sooner or later, and he didn't want to start any kind of relationship, even if it was only a friendship, off by lying. "1975," he replied as he lowered the bottle, steeling himself for her reaction, whatever it might be.

It was obviously going to take him a while to get used to the fact that, for a Rhy'Din native, there was very little that could be considered too surprising when it came to someone's origins. Jasmin just smiled as he told her the year he'd come from, her face lighting up with interest. "Really' Man, I'm so jealous!" she declared with startling vehemence. "Please tell me you've seen The Eagles play - I'd love to see them, but it's never gonna happen for me!"

"You're a fan, huh' Sorry to say, I haven't seen them. I-I don't get around much." Which was another way of saying he was mostly broke. "I went to Woodstock, but I don't remember much of it."

"I envy you the music," she told him through her smile. "I mean, sure, there's been some good stuff since, but there's so much crap just saturating the market now. Some of it doesn't even qualify as music, in my opinion, but then I'm a little biased. I like the acoustic sound, I think it's more evocative than the electric sound." She shrugged, laughing a little when she realized she'd gotten a little too passionate again. "I'm sorry - get me started on music and I can fill a conversation. I don't mean to be boring."

"You're not boring," he assured her. "And it's kinda nice to be able to talk about music without worrying I'm putting someone to sleep. You know, like Tommy," he said, nodding his head to indicate his blond-haired hippie friend her cousin was currently attached to, practically at the hip. "His passion is surfing; mine is music. Can't seem to make a living of it though."

"Well ..." Jaz hesitated for just a moment, putting her trust not only in him, but in her cousin's assessment of him. She wasn't in the habit of doing this, but Jack had definitely caught her interest, and it was difficult to talk in a crowded bar with live music going on. "Would you like to come back to my place" It'd be easier to talk, and you can see Willow Manor from my house. I mean, it's not like I'm going to kidnap you, or anything. You can explore my music collection."

From his expression, he was obviously surprised - shocked, even - at her suggestion. Not in a bad way. The invitation - which he made no assumptions about other than talking and listening to music - was unexpected, to say the least. "Are you-are you sure?" he asked, turning his head to try and find Tommy and Lena. "What about them?"

As he caught up with Jasmin, he turned at last to wave back at his friends, just in time to catch Tommy blowing him a kiss, which made Jack laugh. He didn't have to hear them tell him they loved him - he'd been assured of that back on Half Moon beach a few nights ago. He threw the pair a wave and followed Jasmin as she cut a path through the crowd, reaching around her once again to get the door.

"Thanks," was her grateful response to his gentlemanly act, breathing a sigh of relief as they got out into the cool autumn night air once more. It was dramatically quieter out on the street as the door closed behind them. "I love live music, but it gets so hot in there," Jaz complained lightly, offering Jack her hand. "I'm parked just down the street."

Instead of a hand, he offered a shoulder, reaching to take her guitar. "Let me take that for you," he offered, as politely and gentlemanly as he could. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was the least he could do. "Are there a lot of bars around town that have live music?"

"Oh ....oh, thank you." He'd surprised her again with his good manners, and she felt her shyness make a sudden reappearance as she handed over custody of her precious guitar. "A gentleman, huh' I forgot what you fellas looked like." Dropping her hand from where it was still lingering between them, she shrugged, turning to lead the way down the street to where her rather old, rather battered VW Beetle was parked. "Any night, you've got a choice of places to go if you want to hear live music," she answered his question honestly. "In a city this big, with so many different cultures mixed in together, there's bound to be something playing somewhere that you like."

"How hard is it to get a gig?" he asked, having absolutely no idea what he was going to do here to earn a living, other than help out in Tommy's shop, once it got going. Tommy might not worry about money or think too far ahead, but Jack didn't want to take advantage of Lena's generosity forever. "You said you play in a few clubs here?" he asked, shifting the guitar onto his shoulder.

"It's not hard at all," she assured him with a smile. "There are always spots open. I mean, a lot of these places don't pay too well to start with, but once you can guarantee a bit of extra income for them, they up the wages. Best way to guarantee income" Do a few open mics, become a regular face. A hell of a lot of people from nights like that will come and support you if you let them know where and when you're playing. Like I said, though, some months I eat toast. Sometimes, you just can't get enough money together."

"But..." He started, not the first time he'd broached the subject or that it had come to mind. "You don't have to eat toast, Jasmin. I mean, I understand that you want to do it yourself and everything, but you don't have to."

"No, you're right, I don't have to," she agreed, coming to a halt beside her Beetle to unlock the passenger door before moving around to unlock the driver's side door. "I just ....it's hard to explain, and no one seems to get it." She shook her head with a wry smile, pulling open her door. "Hop in."

"You can tell me anything," he assured her, smiling a little at her choice of vehicles. "This is yours" You drive a Love Bug?" he asked, chuckling a little as they arrived at her car and she unlocked the doors. He pulled open the passenger side door, pushing the seat forward so he could fit her guitar into the back seat. Some might call it cramped, but he thought it was kind of cute and cozy.

"Yup, my first car," she told him proudly, thumping into the cozy confines of that battered automobile. She waited until he got in beside her before continuing as she started the engine - on the fourth try - and pulled away from the curb.

"It's complicated," she tried to explain as she drove. "My dad was ....well, he was a Granger, and I'm sure you've worked out by now that's a name that comes with a lot of strings attached, good and bad. My mom, she was completely broke when they met. She was sharing a squat with, like, twenty other people, and the band she was in got one gig a week, if they were lucky. Not enough to live on, really. Thing is, she wouldn't go out with my dad until he'd learned the value of money. So he turned his back on being a Granger for a while, joined her in that squat, and ....they both said it was the happiest time they'd ever had. Best time of their lives, just getting by, having each other to lean on, not needing to worry about the responsibility that comes with having money and influence. Is this making any sense at all?"

To his credit, he listened quietly, attentively, and patiently as she explained all that, sensing a need in her to tell someone, even if he was practically a stranger. "Yeah, I guess, but it's not much fun worrying about whether you're gonna have enough money to pay the rent or have anything to eat either," he pointed out, legs a little cramped in the close quarters. "So, you want to make it on your own. I can understand that, but don't you think your parents would have wanted to help you, if they could?"

She smiled faintly, her expression fond with wry memory. "They're the reason I kind of fell into the habit of not touching the money for myself," she shrugged lightly, both hands heaving on the steering wheel to turn through the city gates and out onto the road that lead toward Maple Grove. "They really wanted me to go to college and uni and get all these qualifications, but I didn't want to. And we argued about it for months before Mom said that if I wanted to drop out of college and make my own way, then I was going to have to do it from scratch. They weren't gonna help me unless I got into real trouble - I think they wanted to see if I really was into music, or just trying to avoid school. So, you know, I went out and got a job as a waitress to pay them rent and buy my own food, and saved up to buy my own guitar, and I started going to open mics all over the city, getting the practice in, you know" I wanted to prove to them I could do it."

Once again he listened quietly, soaking it all up like a sponge. Her story wasn't all that different from his, though the circumstances were different. He wasn't quite sure what to tell her, or if he should tell her anything at all, but he kind of thought she'd made her point already, at least as far as her parents were concerned. "Okay, but are you still trying to prove it to them or are you trying to prove it to yourself?"

"Whatever you're having," he replied, trying hard to focus his attention on her music collection and not her, or he was going to die of shyness and embarrassment. The last girl he'd been alone with was Helena, and he wasn't sure she counted. He couldn't even remember who it had been before that. He shrugged his jacket off and laid it on the back of the couch as he started toward the shelves of music, his back toward her, not yet noticing that she'd taken her own jacket off. He had a plain black shirt on beneath the jacket that he had no problem filling out, his build similar to that of Jon's, albeit the fact that he was slightly shorter.

"Well, I'm making coffee," she admitted. "I know it's weird, but I can't relax without a cup of coffee in the evening, or whenever it is I get home." Turning about to glance his way, her voice trailed off as her gaze came to rest on his back. He certainly did fill out that shirt in a way that momentarily stalled her brain and requested a reboot. With the pot in one hand, she stared for a long moment, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she blushed yet again, her mind's eye trying to distract her with imagining him without that shirt, or even better, being able to touch him and find out if he was as firm as he looked from here.

"Coffee's good!" he called a little distractedly from the living room as he perused her music collection, nostalgic about the old stuff and curious about the new. He pulled out an old record album, one he'd enjoyed as a kid. It was probably a little dated by modern standards, but there it was on her shelf. From the looks of it, her taste in music was as widely varied as his. "Mind if I play something?" he called again, as he carefully slid the black vinyl recording from the jacket sleeve.

Startled out of her covetous staring by the sound of his voice, Jasmin jumped, blinking rapidly as she attempted to reset her brain to something a little more PG-rated. "No, go ahead," she called back to him, finally turning away to set the coffee pot to brewing. "The cabinet by the window opens up - there's a record player in there." As well as a CD player, but she had a feeling she was going to have to explain that one to him.

He looked around for the turntable amidst all the new-fangled audio equipment, some of which he could sort out and some he couldn't. Thankfully, the record player wasn't all that different from what he was accustomed to. He set the record on the turntable and twisted the knob to start it turning, but before he could pick up the stylus to set the needle on the vinyl, it was doing it all by itself. Okay, so it was a little different than what he was used to. A moment later, the voice of Buddy Holly was crooning to "That'll Be the Day".

In the kitchen, Jaz grinned to herself, unsurprised that he had chosen something older than he was to play, but kinda glad he'd somehow managed to choose one of her father's favorite tracks. She couldn't resist jigging to it as she moved about the kitchen space, locating cups, sugar, and cream. "....cause that'll be the day-ay-ay when I die - how do you take your coffee?"

"Hot?" he replied as he appeared in the doorway, watching as she moved about kitchen, admiring the view, even from behind, even more so now that she'd taken off her jacket, not unlike she'd been admiring him. He smiled as she sang along with the lyrics. Despite the tragedy of Holly's death, his music was always a joy to hear.

"You know I love you, baby; still you tell me maybe that someday, well, I'll be through - ooh!" She obviously hadn't heard him coming toward her, jumping as though he'd walked up and slapped the behind she'd been waving around, rather than just spoken behind her. Laughing at herself, she turned to look at him. "You scared me!" Rolling her eyes at her silly reaction to a harmless continuation of the conversation, she gestured to the coffee pot. "No, I mean ....sugar, cream?"

"Sorry," he replied, smiling a little sheepishly as he realized he'd startled her. "You have quite a collection," he remarked in an attempt to make friendly conversation. He wasn't accustomed to woman talking to him, much less beautiful women. He tried to keep his gaze leveled on her face and not wander further, unable to get over how gorgeous she was. "Both, thanks," he replied politely, more interested in her than coffee, but hoping it wasn't too obvious. He didn't want to get his hopes up just to have them dashed.

Her smile warmed as she caught him gazing at her, reassured by the fact that he seemed to find her as interesting as she found him. "Well, it started out as my parents' collection," she admitted, pouring the coffee into a pair of mugs on the counter beside him. As she did so, her arm brushed his chest, and she felt her face heat in response. Gods, when did I start blushing so much" Her hand rose to brush her hair back out of her face, momentarily revealing a tattoo on the back of her neck, toward the left side ....a butterfly, simply done, but obviously done with a fair amount of skill. "They got me hooked, and I just kept collecting music. Um ....sugar and cream's there, help yourself."

He backed up as her arm brushed against him to give her a little space, thinking he had gotten too close. He hardly noticed her blush, but he did notice the hint of a tattoo at the back of her neck. Tattoos were much less commonplace in his time, usually belonging to bikers or soldiers or people who lived life a little on the wild side. He didn't have any himself, but that didn't mean he was opposed to the idea or found them unattractive. "So, why'd you quit school?" he asked, wondering if there was more to her story than she had told him. He reached for the cup of coffee and added a spoonful of sugar and a bit of milk.

Jaz paused, setting the coffee pot back on its stand as she considered what to tell him. There was the official version, and there was the truth. "Well ....the accepted story is that I was bad at it," she shrugged, turning back to fix her own coffee. "And I was. I sucked at pretty much every subject, it just didn't interest me." Cream and two sugars, and a lot of vigorous stirring later, she took a sip of her coffee, turning her head to look up at him. "Real story' Girls in boarding schools are bitches. If I'd stayed, I probably wouldn't have come out in one piece."

"You didn't like them or they didn't like you?" he asked, stirring his coffee before taking a lazy lean against the counter to take a sip while he awaited her reply. He didn't really know many girls who went to boarding school back home and was getting a sense of how very different their life stories were and yet, there were some similarities, too.

"Hmm, how do I put this?" she mused, wrapping her hands around her cup as she leaned next to him against the counter. "My first night there, they doused me in freezing cold water while I was in bed, and threw everything I owned in the school pool. And that was their way of saying hello." She shrugged, but there was enough bitterness in her voice to share the very real fact that the child she had been had suffered through every last hour she'd had to spend at that school.

From somewhere, she summoned a smile to try and ease the confusion he was feeling. "It doesn't matter, Jack," she assured him, discounting her own feelings through force of habit. "You're a nice guy, a real gentleman. You're not an *ss. I'm sorry I made you feel bad."

"You didn't make me feel bad, just..." He shrugged. "Confused, I guess. I mean....Girls....women....They don't....I'm not..." He sighed, having trouble putting his feelings into words. "I like you, too, Jasmin. I'm just not used to....you know....talking to women. I mean, if you'd seen me a few days ago, you wouldn't have given me the time of day."

"But I'm not seeing you a few days ago," she pointed out, rubbing a hand through her hair awkwardly. "I'm seeing you now. And yeah, you're gorgeous, but it's not just that. You're a nice guy, like I said. You're a gentleman, and you're easy to talk to, and I want to get to know you better. But that doesn't negate the fact that-that I find you ..." She broke off, her blush resuming with startling speed as she bit her lip, not quite believing she was even having this conversation, suddenly realizing what she'd missed. I like you, too, Jasmin. "Aw, screw it," she said suddenly, and just as suddenly her hand was curled to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss that said a lot more, a lot more eloquently than she could have managed with words.

"Find me what?" he asked, needing to know what it was she was trying to tell him. That he was sexy' Him' He knew the haircut had been an improvement, but sexy' He found that hard to believe, eyes widening as she pulled him into a kiss, so surprised, in fact, that in his excitement, he clumsily spilled his coffee, staining both her shirt and his pants. "Oh, sh*t!" he exclaimed, as they both got dowsed with coffee, hardly even into the kiss. "I'm so sorry!" He set the coffee cup on the counter and grabbed a towel to dab at the stain on her shirt. "I'm an idiot."

Her lips had barely touched his when she felt his coffee tip over her, pulling back with a startled laugh to look down at the mess that had been created. Well, at least I can stop worrying that he doesn't like me. It was the most honest reaction she'd ever had to a kiss. "No - no, it's fine," she assured him, catching his wrist before he could dab too much at her shirt. "Jack, it's fine. It'll wash out. What about your pants?"

He looked appalled at what he'd done, inwardly berating himself for being such an idiot. Not only had he laughed at her and misunderstood, but he'd ruined the first good chance he'd had at a kiss by ruining her blouse. "My pants?" he asked, glancing down, almost relieved to find it was only coffee that was staining his pants, his face turning crimson with embarrassment. The second thought that occurred to him was that they weren't even his pants to soil. "Oh, crap, Lena's gonna kill me."

Well, that answered that question. She'd thought his outfit looked familiar. "Not if we wash them," she told him gently, raising her hand to curl her fingers into his hair once again. This time, he didn't have anything to spill on her, and she wasn't going to be done out of a kiss. Her lips brushed his softly, testing the waters, inviting him to stop worrying and just feel, even if it was only for a moment.

He was taken aback once again by the kiss, a kiss that wasn't interrupted by any misunderstanding or by a case of nervous tension. There was tension in that kiss, nevertheless, but tension of a different kind. He felt it in his stomach first, muscles tensing, heat spreading outward, a physical sensation that was as pleasant as it was terrifying. If only he didn't fight it, if only he could just stop worrying and relax, but he wasn't sure how. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus on the soft warmth of her lips, but instead of relaxing him, it only made him more tense.

She could feel him growing tenser, more agitated, not entirely sure what was wrong. He liked her, didn't he" Surely this was a good thing" But perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps he liked her, but not enough to want her to kiss him. She was making an idiot of herself again. She drew back, offering him an awkward smile as she eased away. "Sorry." Stepping back, she bit her lip again. "I'll, uh ....let me get you some spare pants, and I'll throw those in the washer."

He drew a deep breath as he pulled away, his face flushed, but not so much with embarrassment as with desire. He frowned as she apologized, heart sinking, afraid he'd disappointed her again. He knew he wasn't a good kisser. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed a girl, and now he was worrying he'd blown it, and he'd never get that chance again. It was his turn to misunderstand her now, thinking she hadn't liked the kiss, she hadn't felt the same thing he had. "No, I'm sorry. I-I'm not very good at this sort of thing. The last time I was..." He broke off, chewing at the corner of his mouth, assuming she didn't really want to hear about his past.

"Jack, I like you," she interrupted as he broke off, turning back to look up at him just a little accusingly. "You say you like me too, and-and then when I kiss you, you throw coffee on me, and then you react like I taste like gone-off milk. How am I supposed to take that' Either you like me or you don't, and that's now - that's happening right now, and I'm not whatever dumb sh*t broke your heart years ago." It was her turn to break off, letting out a huff of breath as she frowned. "I'm not angry. I'm just ....I'm confused, and I want to know what I'm doing wrong here."

He arched a brow, a little startled by the flurry of words that poured out of her. "I'm not..." he started, in an attempt to explain, wondering if he should even bother. She was going to think he was an idiot. "No one broke my heart," he broke in. He had never been with anyone long enough for that. "I just never....you know....I mean, I have, but..." He sighed. "The last time I got laid, I was so drunk and high I hardly remember it. I'm not even sure it really happened."

"Oh." Well, that took the wind out of her sails somewhat. She swallowed, guilt flaring in her expression for taking her frustration out on him. "I'm sorry, I ....I just assumed ....Well, now I'm the *ss." She shrugged, shaking her head, and went with a new direction, pulling her shirt up and over her head. "Take your pants off."

"What?" he blinked, blushing furiously as she pulled her shirt over her head. Did she want him to take his pants off so she could wash them or for some other reason' "What for?" he asked, terrified and excited all at the same time. It was like catching your very first wave. You just had to gather your courage and go for it, knowing you were going to wipe out. Everyone wiped out their first time around.

He merely nodded, stunned into silence by the kiss and the promise of more to come, in time. If Tommy knew that Jack was chickening out, he'd probably kick him, but his lack of confidence and fear of disappointing her seemed to outweigh his desire, at least for the time being. Maybe coffee wasn't the way to go. It wasn't doing anything to relax him, but he didn't really want to get drunk either. Was it really just a few days ago that he'd gone skinny dipping on the beach with Tommy and Lena" He'd been drunk and stoned out of his mind, completely relaxed and unworried about any pressure to perform or impress anyone. Why did he feel like he had to impress her" He flashed a fake smile, wanting to kick himself for being a coward, but then, he'd only just met her a few hours ago and didn't want to seem too eager either. He felt like he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

One thing Jasmin had learned over the years as a musician was when someone was faking a smile or giving a falsely positive criticism. Yes, Jack was nervous and obviously completely without confidence, but that wasn't any excuse for feigning a smile like that. She sighed, putting her shirt back down on the counter behind him. "Jack, relax," she told him softly, stepping close enough to lean into him, her hands smoothing against his sides. "I'm not moving a step until you do. And, you know, the longer I'm right here, the more likely it is that I'll start doing things to keep myself amused." Her own smile was warm and teasing, reassuring in her obvious liking for him as the tip of her nose brushed his.

He swallowed nervously as she closed the distance between them again. She was distracting enough as it was, but without her shirt on, she was hard to resist, and he found himself shaking all over again. "I'm not sure what you mean," he admitted, not quite understanding what it was she was telling him. Did she mean that she was willing to wait until he was ready or that she was going to make the first move"

Her fingers trailed up over his arms, curling to cradle his jaw and draw him down until their foreheads touched, hazel eyes looking into his with gentle honesty. "Yes, you are," she called him out, knowing that most of what was making him uncomfortable here was nerves and that appalling lack of confidence. She was shy, yes, but only with strangers, and he was definitely not a stranger now. "Stop thinking so hard about this," she told him softly. "I like you. You like me. Whether we jump into bed together tonight, or go slow for a while, I don't see that changing. So no fake smiles, no trying to please me by hiding yourself. It's you I want to get to know in every way I can, not the mask. So relax."

He nodded again, but this time, the nod and the acceptance behind it were sincere. He could have explained why he was the way he was, but he didn't see the point in it. That was all part of the getting acquainted process, and none of it had anything to do with her. "I'll try," he told her, meaning what he said. He made no promises, and by not doing so, told no lies. "I like you, too, Jasmin. I just don't want to screw this up."

"For what it's worth' You're doin' pretty well so far." She smiled, rising slowly against him as her arms curled about his neck, giving him plenty of warning before her lips found his. This kiss was slow and deep, as gentle as those that had gone before but definitely not pulling any punches. As her lips plied his with unspoken tenderness, her fingers combed through his hair, her body leaning into his, determined to feel him relax into her before she let him go again.

He tensed at first, just as he had before, like a wire pulled taut, but as her lips plied his and his eyelids drew closed, the tension slowly started to unwind, her kisses as sweet and intoxicating as wine. He drew his arms around her waist as she pressed her body against his, filling his senses, all too aware of the soft womanly curves that were pressed up against his angles. He felt her fingers in his hair, smelled the scent of her perfume, tasted the sweetness of her lips, relaxing him and enticing him all at the same time. The sweetest drug in all of creation.

How could he not know what he was doing to her" How was it this incredibly sweet, amazingly handsome man didn't know how attractive he was" She wanted to know, and yet at the same time, she didn't want to push him. Instead, she focused on him - on the way he felt, the taste of him on her lips, the scent that was entirely his as he, in turn, filled her senses. She didn't want this kiss to end, reveling in the soft intimacy as he finally relaxed into her, as the tension he was holding onto slowly bled away. There was something thrilling and calming about the way his arms wrapped her close, something she really hadn't felt before. Fast or slow, she was beginning to think she didn't care which. So long as he didn't walk away.

He lingered a long time in that kiss, exploring her mouth, savoring the taste of her lips. He'd certainly kissed and been kissed before, but it had never been anything like the way it was when he kissed her, and he almost wished it could go on and on forever. It was as though he'd been kissed by an angel, tasting a little bit of heaven in her kiss. When he finally pulled away so that he could take a breath, the blue eyes that looked back at her were filled with wonder and longing.

He was met with the same sense of wonder, the same longing deep in her own eyes as she looked up at him, deeply reluctant to draw any further back from him than she had already. Her fingers played against his cheek, into his hair, wanting to touch him but knowing she really shouldn't push him any further than he was ready to go. "Better?" she murmured a soft query through smiling lips, nuzzling to him for a long moment before drawing just a little back for him to answer.

He nodded again, taking a deep breath to slow the hammering of his heart. "Better," he replied, hesitating a moment before chancing a kiss of his own, slow and languid but chaste, sweetly affectionate, almost innocent even. "I've-I've never really been with anyone before. I mean, not seriously."

And there was part of the reason for his lack of confidence. Jasmin's smile softened affectionately as she brushed her fingers through his hair. "Sweetie, there's really no set rules for this," she promised him. "We'll make mistakes, everyone does. But I've got a good feeling about this." The tip of her nose touched his briefly as she gazed into his eyes, needing a moment to lighten the seriousness that had fallen over them. "And you can tell your friend I got you out of your pants on the first date with absolute honesty."

"Anything you want to play," she told him, her finger crooking once again. "If I have to come over there and get you, you might end up distracted again." She smiled affectionately, understanding him a little better as he spoke about how he felt about his friend, though it was sad to hear that he had brothers he was not close to. "You can call me Jaz, Jack. Jasmin's a bit of a mouthful sometimes."

He was frowning a little again, unsure what he should play or what she might want to hear. He hadn't brought his own guitar, but she seemed to have a few. "What do you want me to play?" he asked as he made his way toward her. "I left my guitar back at Midge..." He paused to correct himself again. "Lena's," he said, jerking a thumb behind him, whether that was the direction of Willow Manor or not.

"There's a room full of guitars you can play right here, sweetie," she pointed out with a smile. As he came closer to her, she drew her arms around his neck once more, smaller against his frame without her boots on, but not so small either of them were uncomfortable. "You know ....I'm getting the feeling you're getting all unrelaxed again."

He looked in the direction of the living room, but before he could head that way, she had cut him off and was pulling him close again, which was doing nothing for his nerves, but a lot for his ego. "Maybe I should have had that beer," he remarked, his hands settling uneasily against her hips.

"You can't rely on being drunk just to stay relaxed around me, sweetie," she reminded him sweetly, rising up onto her toes to brush his lips with hers. "Just ....be." Whether he wanted a beer or not, she chose that moment to repeat the kiss that had eased his tension before ....slow, gentle, undemanding of anything but his complete focus as her hands curled into his hair once more. He was going to have to get used to being kissed this way, unless he found a way to calm his nerves on his own.

It didn't happen right away, but the longer he lingered in that kiss, the more relaxed he felt. He wasn't sure if it was the kiss itself, or the way it felt when she curled her fingers into his hair - more than likely both. Her lips were soft and warm, her touch soothing. He wanted to linger in her embrace all day and all night, and when his lips finally parted from hers again, though he felt calmer, her kisses left him wanting more.

"There you are." Jasmin's smile was warm, the look in her eyes aching with longing as she gazed up at him, fingers still gently tangling though his hair. She was making it harder for herself to behave and respect his readiness, but if the only way to get him to relax was to kiss him until she lost herself in his embrace, she couldn't see how to avoid that pressure on herself. "You have such beautiful eyes, Jack."

He found himself unable to look away from her eyes, unable to move away from her embrace, and he wondered if he shouldn't just give in and let it happen before the sexual tension drove him - both of them - crazy. He was touched by the compliment, unsure how to return it. It wasn't just her eyes that were beautiful but all of her. She was only growing more beautiful with each passing minute, and suddenly, he longed for the same thing that Tommy and Lena had. The only thing that worried him was that she would be so disappointed in him she might never want to see him again. "Jasmin, I..." He trailed off, looking worried again. "Tonight you're mine completely, you give your love so sweetly. Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, but will you still love me tomorrow?" He sang it rather than said it, knowing it was corny as hell, but sometimes songs were better at conveying feelings than words.

She'd never been serenaded, certainly not right there in the moment as the words conveyed what he was feeling. And, touched though she was that he had the courage to just open up and sing to her, she understood completely where it had come from. The song might be a golden oldie, but it portrayed almost exactly what she, too, was concerned with as they lingered in each other's embrace. As her fingers smoothed from his hair to his cheek, she picked up the melody, answering his worries with her own in the same way. "Is this a lasting treasure, or just a moment's pleasure" Can I believe the magic of your sighs" Will you still love me tomorrow?"

"Tonight with words unspoken," he continued, his voice growing stronger, but still softly evoking the emotion of the song's sentiment, which matched his own. "You say that I'm the only one, but will my heart be broken, when the night meets the morning sun?" It was perhaps as corny as an old movie musical, but he was from a different time, and music was the only way he knew to tell her what he was feeling.

Perhaps it was corny, but how else did two musicians communicate when they hadn't yet worked out how to say what they wanted to say with their own words" Would it have been less corny if they'd been holding guitars instead of each other" Despite the cheese that was dripping over them, Jaz swayed in Jack's arms as he sang to her, wondering if he would understand what she meant if she told him just how swoonworthy he was in that moment. But the feeling was there, evoked by their own awkwardness with each other, expressed perfectly with words written down a long time ago. "I'd like to know that your love is a love I can be sure of ..."

She had left him with to ask the same question the song had started with, and while it was too soon to speak of love, he needed to know he wasn't going to be forgotten or tossed aside if he gave into his heart's - and body's - desire. He lifted a hand to touch her face, for the very first time, his fingers gently trailing against the curve of her cheek, eyes meeting hers longingly, as he finished the song, still having no answer other than to know she seemed to share the same worries of losing him. "So tell me now, and I won't ask again....Will you still love me tomorrow?"

They shared the same worries, approaching them from different directions. She had been left too many times; he had never been in a position to be left, but was afraid of it, nonetheless. She had already told him that she did not do one-night-stands; that if they went all the way together, she was in it for the medium to long term. But perhaps he just didn't know how to take that the way she had told him in her own words. As the question faded on his lips, her smile returned, small and soft, her gaze open and honest. "Yes," she whispered to him, sharing that honesty, hoping he would understand it now even as she took the question to echo it back to him. "Will you still love me tomorrow?"

Unlike her, he didn't answer her question with words. Instead, he answered by being the one to initiate the kiss this time around, answering the only way he knew how. The kiss he touched to her lips was soft and slow and tender and spoke not only of his desire, but of hope for the future, of the first unexpected spark of feeling that could - with the right nurturing - grow into something deeper, something special, something profound. Something neither of them had ever known before. The love of a lifetime.

((Welcome to Rhy'Din, Jack Smith! :grin: As always, humungus thank yous to Jack and Tommy! Awesome!))