((OOC Note - the 18+ is for content, not explicit, but references.))
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A Touch of Trust
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Despite the coming on of summer, there were still evenings when it was decidedly chilly as the deli closed up. And despite this, they'd taken to leaving the back door open while they cleaned up, to blow out the smells and stuffiness of the day. Sadie had been whisked away almost the moment of closing by the besotted Mat, and most of the other staff had gone home, leaving Dirk and Genevieve to finish up before locking up. With her long gloves firmly in place on her hands and arms, no doubt Genny's appearance still confused people, especially now it was warmer, since she sported a short-sleeved shirt and cropped jeans with them. She was busily counting out the takings for the day, recording them in the ledger.

Dirk had been cleaning out the kitchen and grumbling about what a mess the cooks and chefs made. Soon he realized that he and Genny were the only two left in the building. Finishing with the cutting boards, he lifted them from the counter and placed them into the sink for a soak in cool, chlorinated water. He moved into the office then, and sat across the desk from Genny. Sitting quietly, he opened up a bottle of water and watched her curiously. Finally, it got the best of him and he blurted out. "What's with the gloves? You're mixing formal with casual. It clashes." He grinned then and sat back, relaxing.

Once, this question would have forced her further inwards than she usually was, but time with Dirk and the others had made Genny less of an outcast than she'd come to see herself. She did start a little at the abruptness, but laughed at herself, looking up at him. "I don't like people touching my skin," she shrugged lightly. "Or touching anything with my skin, actually."

Dirk, being the sensual man that he was, dropped his feet from the desk with a thump and leaned forward to stare into her face. "No touching skin? I think I'd keel over if I could never touch Quinn's skin again. It's so soft and warm." He sighed dreamily, nearly drooling.

Watching him, Genny almost giggled at the way his aura changed the moment Quinn came into his mind, pulsing soft pink together with the more vibrant colours that usually surrounded him. It wasn't an attractive combination. "I wouldn't know, I've never ... well, I just haven't," she said awkwardly, spilling coins into the bags.

He sat back and took a drink from the bottle and crossed one leg over the other. "Maybe you should. Might make you less sensitive?" He canted his head and gave her that curious look again. "So what happens if somebody touches your skin?"

She laughed awkwardly, more of a huffing breath with a smile than an actual laugh itself, rubbing her gloved hands down her thighs as she sat back. "I ... I learn a bit more than most people do about each other."

"Really?" Dirk reached out his hand and grinned. "Try me. See what you can see." Dirk curled his lower lip between his overly sharp teeth in anticipation.

Genny leaned back in alarm. "Really, seriously, you don't want to," she shook her head in hurried concern. "When I said a bit, I meant everything."

"I've nothing to hide. And I'd end up telling you anyway." He leaned forward a bit more, hand extended still. "You're my pal. I don't mind you knowing." His brown hazels widened into a puppy dog look. "Please?"

She clasped her hands together, fingers fiddling with the glove on her right hand. "Everything's from your perspective, like I'm you," she explained gently. "Remember a few weeks back, when I served that man then had to go throw up?"

"Yeah, there were bets that you were pregnant." He laughed with a shake of his head. "I knew you weren't. I can smell those kinds of things." He tapped the side of his nose. "Did that guy touch you? What did you see?"

"He, uh ... well, it's hard to explain," she shifted worriedly. "Everything you touch holds a part of you. I know who Rosie was, for example; because I've touched this table with my bare hand. I didn't have any choice but to take the money he gave me, and when I took the silver, I experienced what it is to murder children."

"Oh fuck." He sat back and frowned. "No wonder you got so sick." He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault he was evil," she shrugged lightly. "Besides, I think he's been arrested. I gave the Watch an anonymous tip that night."

"Well, at least some good came of it." Dirk looked up with clear hazel eyes and smiled. "But see, you can help people. It's not all bad, is it?"

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "No, it's not all bad," she agreed quietly. "But there seems to be more bad than good. It was fine until my dad died, but I think he had the same thing."

"Sorry about your dad. Mine died, too." He nodded slowly and reached out his hand to her. "Take my hand, Genny. It'll be alright."

She sighed softly, eyeing his hand for a long moment before seeming to come to a decision. Slowly, she removed one glove, revealing a small, pale hand which she tentatively laid into his. The moment their skin touched, she tensed, shuddering a little with the force of a whole other lifetime in mind.

His fingers curled around her deicate hand and his other hand came up to gently caress her pale skin. He couldn't feel a thing, but could see how much his life was overwhelming her and he let her go. "Are you alright?"

She paused, nodding slowly. "I-I'm fine," she admitted quietly. "It's been a long time since I've done that." She managed a faintly sly smile. "You really like Quinn, don't you?"

He watched her carefully as he sat back. "I love him." The answer was said quietly, but with conviction.

Genny smiled softly. "It only takes a moment, Dirk," she told him gently. "But if you don't want me to mention anything about anything I know, then I won't. Your secrets are safe with me."

"I know that. I trust you." He smiled broadly then and nearly giggled. There was something freeing about knowing somebody else knows every little detail about you. "See, it's been a boring life."

She laughed a little herself, relieved that someone now knew what she had been hiding. "Not nearly so boring as mine, I promise you."

He closed the door behind her and showed her to the linen closet. "Oh, I would love to know what Quinn gets.. up to." He laughed and then went to pour the wine. "It's a chick flick, but those are my faves." He grinned and held out a glass to her.

She took the glass with a smile, pleased she had remembered to put her glove back on before remembering that lips could probably pick up memories just as easily. Oh, well, nothing for it. She took a sip of the wine, and choked slightly as she gained an insight into what they had last been used for.

"What, I washed them myself." He grinned and ushered her into the living area with its comfy couches and entertainment center. "Have a seat. Won't take me a second to get it loaded.

She was just a little awkward, in the way everyone is when they enter someone else's home for the first time, letting herself be guided about. Perhaps unusually, she chose to sit on the floor, crossing her legs comfortably as she looked around, still blushing at what she had seen. "Do you often ... no, it's rude of me to ask."

"Genny." He turned to look at her as he put the disk into the player. "You can ask me anything. I'm an open book." He smiled and the TV came to life with the previews. Dirk grabbed the remote and went to sit down beside her. "So ask away. Anything."

"Uh ..." She blushed again, glancing to the wine glass in her hand. "Well ... do you often spend a romantic night in with your right hand when Quinn's not around?"

He laughed and canted his head. "Well, to be honest, yes. Unless I have company. It's not very hospitable to drop trou and start choking the chicken in front of ladies." He tapped the side of his glass to hers then took a sip.

She giggled faintly, taking another, healthier sized gulp of wine before lowering the glass to the floor beside her. "Whyever not? If you're truly that bohemian, I can't see it bothering you all that much."

"It doesn't bother me." He grinned and pushed the button on the remote to start the movie. "But after being smacked by Rosie when she caught me in the office? Learned a whole new chapter on manners."

"Oh, that's what all that was about," Genny exclaimed, mentally filing that usurped memory to one side now she knew the particulars. She grinned at him. "She seems like she was a lovely woman to know."

"Yeah." He laughed and took another sip. "She was great. Everybody loved her. A bit bossy, but she had a good heart." He sighed softly. "Wonder how Daniel's doing."

"The little boy?" Genny queried curiously, tilting her head with a smile. "I'm sorry, it must be strange to talk about things with someone who wasn't around at the time."

"Yeah, her son. He must be.. four by now." Again, he waved dismissively. "I don't think there's anything I find strange or difficult to talk about. Not since I came to Rhydin. Mmm, look." He pointed at the screen, watching Patrick move. "Damn, look at his ass!"

"Hell yeah, there is. I plan to be copulating until I die or it falls off. Whichever comes first." Dirk rolled onto his back and laughed out loud. "Seriously though, Quinn and I can't biologically have children, but we still copulate." He loved that word now that she had brought it into the conversation. "For us, it's a deeper connection and symbol of the love we share."

"So it's a way to show love?" she asked thoughtfully, running through the various memories that were not her own to find some evidence of this. "Why do people do it when they're not in love, then? And what is a dirty weekend, anyway?"

"Yeah, for some people it's to show love. Others, it's just a fun work out." He shrugged and leaned back against the couch once again. Suddenly he grinned wide and bright.

Genevieve was still trying to work out why people would copulate for exercise as she noticed the bright grin on his face. She blinked, glanced past herself, and looked back at him. "What?"

"I just realized that I feel like Mrs. Washington, our health teacher in high school. That woman never cracked a grin as long as I knew her. And we asked her some pretty screwed up questions."

"You had a teacher for health?" Language barrier breakdown there, it seemed. Genny was definitively English, in many ways. "We learned about all that in biology. And the sex education lessons that my mother wouldn't let me go to."

"Yeah, a health teacher, taught about good nutrition, how to take care of a baby, all sorts of stuff. Biology was all about dissecting frogs and looking at things under the microscope." He shook his head with a sigh. "Why do parents do that to their kids? They're too afraid of teaching the kids about sex but they won't let anybody else do it, either. It's why so many babies are having babies."

She snorted, with just a slight hint of bitterness. "Well, they didn't need to worry about that with me, did they?"

"Hey." He reached out and made sure he touched her covered skin. "You had your reasons for not making physical contact with anybody. Had nothing to do with your level of education in that particular field. Besides, it's the parent's fault for what kids learn and what they don't learn if they refuse to allow their children to be exposed to experiences. Don't be so hard on yourself."

She shrugged, smiling when she realised he had touched her glove and not her skin. Her other hand laid over his warmly. "I'm not bitter, not really," she told him, shrugging once more. "I don't know anything else, so I have nothing to be bitter or angry about. I just ... I wish I understood a bit more some of the things in my head that don't belong to me."

"Well, you can ask me about anything and I'll try my best to help you figure them out, ok?" He winked with a broad smile. "It'll be a learning experience. for us both!"

Genny's smile turned very grateful at that, the wine loosening her tongue further than she might otherwise have spoken. She moved to lean back onto her elbows, the film forgotten. "It's little things," she said thoughtfully. "Like why some people like to be insulted when they're supposed to be showing love. Or why whips and paddles get used. That's violence, not love."

"Oh, you mean fetishes." He nodded and removed his hand from hers to pick up his wine glass. "Empty. Would you like some more?" He got up and reached for her glass. "People have fetishes. Some more kinky than others, but it's all about playing and having fun and turning each other on. I like to call Quinn "Papi" and sometimes he spanks me. Not hard, but enough. Then we laugh afterwards, share a cigarette and snuggle until we fall asleep."

"What do you mean by 'fetishes'? And yes, please." She lifted her glass, making to stand up and go with him to the kitchen. "So you like pretending that Quinn is your father and spanking you?" That frown was very confused. "Isn't that illegal?"

She gave him a wry smile. "I don't think I should ask any more, the sides of this hole I'm digging might start to collapse inwardly on me."

He walked to her and draped his arm around her shoulders to lead her back into the living room. "Really, Genny. Consider me your sex ed teacher. I'll answer anything you have to ask and I will try not to laugh anymore."

She giggled softly, warmed by the unfamiliar wrap of his arm about her as they walked back to where Patrick and Jenny were shouting at one another. "Somehow I don't think you can answer one of my questions. You don't have the equipment to know."

"Try me." he unwrapped his arm and sank down onto the couch. Dirk then pulled a throw pillow into his lap and curled his legs up under neath himself.

She dropped to the floor comfortably, curling her knees to her chest as she sipped her wine. "Well, does it hurt? I mean, I know the fetish thingys are supposed to hurt and everything, but the normal stuff ... does that hurt?"

"The first time it does." He nodded solemnly. "If you're with the wrong person, it hurts badly. But the right person will be gentle and it'll only sting."

She frowned curiously. "How do you know?" she asked. "I mean, I'm not objecting to knowing all this, of course, but ... well, you're not a girl."

Dirk grinned broadly. He twisted and smacked his bum and laughed. "I have an entry portal, too."

Her eyes widened. "Do bottoms have a hymen too?" she asked in shock.

"No, they do not." He tried to keep as straight a face as he could. "But the muscles are a lot tighter on your bottom."

"Do you bleed? I mean, I know I do, but do boys bleed too?" Genny turned to look at him earnestly, seriously uncertain as to whether this was an appropriate question or not.

"Not on a monthly basis, no. But if the sex is too rough, sometimes from the bottom, yeah." He nodded slowly and sighed dreamily.

Genny studied him for a long moment, her head tilted in curious amusement. "You like a bit of rough then, do you?" she asked bluntly, lips twitching into a slightly wicked grin.

"Why do I call him Papi and let him spank me?" He waggled his brows with a grin. "Sometimes I do like it rough. Other times I like it sweet and gentle. It all depends on the mood."

She nodded, taking that in before another question occurred to her. "What's it like being kissed? Because ... well ... it looks sort of disgusting. I mean, how is sticking your tongue into someone else's mouth attractive?"

"if it's with the right person, it's heaven." He smiled and sighed again. "Like when Quinn kisses me. Nothing else exists but he and I."

"Isn't it sort of messy? All that spit and everything?" Genny didn't look convinced.

"Nope. Not when you learn to do it. Here, watch." He brought his fist to his mouth and proceeded to kiss where his thumb and index finger met. "See? But by yourself is no fun. That's just for practice."

The look she presented to him as he demonstrated that was warily uncertain. "Do I have to practise it before I try it on anyone?" she asked thoughtfully. "That is, if anyone else is as brave as you."

"I would." He nodded confidently. "That way you'll know what to expect, you know?" He pondered something and got up from the couch. "Wait here."

"Wait ... what?" Her eyes followed him curiously as he got up, before returning to the television screen. As luck would have it, it was the big romantic scene, and she found herself staring, entranced once again, as she waited.

Her head tilted thoughtfully. "How would you hear me? I mean, I guess wolves' hearing is good, but if I'm on the other side of the city, how is it possible that you'd hear me?" Another thought occurred to her that made her giggle softly. "Besides, anyone who attacked me would probably have a bad aura, and you've seen what happens to me when I touch those."

"You're my friend and I've got your voice memorized. It'd hear it," He was very confident of his abilities. "Besides, you usually don't wander too far from the market, right?" His smile faded a bit and he sighed. "Your reaction won't matter to an attacker, Genny. So promise you'll call for me."

"You're right, I don't go very far at all," she admitted shyly. "I promise. If I get into any trouble, I'll call for you." She smiled a little, playing with the kiss-mark of latex in her fingers. She blinked, staring down at it. "Are my lips really that fat?"

"Good girl." He looked at the mark when she did. "Plump lips are sexy lips." he nodded. "Trust me. I work in the modeling industry. Some women inject collagen into their lips to get them to look like yours."

She winced at the thought of that. "You're a model as well as everything else?" she asked curiously then, leaning forward. "Is it good money?"

"Where do you think I go when I'm gone for a week or so at a time?" He chuckled and then nodded. "Yes ma'am, very good money. Especially at Fashion week. But it's exhausting to walk runways in Paris, London, New York, Milan; and all in the same week. But so worth it."

"Hmm." She looked thoughtful, still playing with the latex in her fingers. "D'you think I'd be any good?" Now there was a question only the wine could have induced her to ask.

"How tall are you?" Dirk put on his professional face and slowly looked her up and down. "How much do you weigh?" He shook his head and grinned. "You'll have to shed some clothes so we can see your real body type."

She blinked, startled by the somewhat intimate questions that spilled from him. "I'm 5'4"," she said, looking down at herself. "And last time I checked, I was about 119lbs or so."

"Sorry, too short," he gave her a rueful smile. "I mean, there are shorter female models, but they usually look for a girl witih sunken cheeks and legs up to her armpits."

She sighed softly, looking a little disappointed. "Oh, well, I'll have to find something else then, won't I?" she suggested with a light shrug.

"Tell you what," he patted her knee softly. "I'll talk to Marcia about getting you an audition. I know an excellent photographer. A little make up and less clothes and we'll get you a portfolio. How's that?"

"Less clothes? Really?" But despite the vague dismay in her voice at that, she looked genuinely delighted with the idea. "Don't be saying it just to make me feel better, Dirk. If you don't think I can make decent money, then just say so. I'm a big girl, I can cope."

"Yes, and I've seen it happen before. But Marcia would know better. She's got a better eye for females than I do." Dirk snorted a bit of a laugh. "I hate doing shoots with the girls. They hang all over you to look good for the camera, but all they do is bitch about their hair or how they had to fast or puke for hours to get ready for the shoot."

"Fag hag. It's a chick that hangs out with gay guys," it was so simple to him. "I know it sounds offensive, but that's part of the fun of it."

"If you want me to be," she nodded with another of her tentative smiles. "I guess that means I'm not allowed to hide in my boarding house as much as I do anymore, hmm?"

"I do and yes, that means you're going to become sociable." He nodded with a grin. "Never had my very own fag hag. C'mere!" He launched himself at her and wrapped his arms around her. "Aww, and she's cuddly, too! Bonus!"

Giggling, Genny let herself be squeezed and cuddled, squeezing back with a wide grin. "I suppose all the best fag hags are cuddly, are they?" she laughed merrily.

"I don't know, never had one before. But if not, they should be." He leaned back then, letting her go. Dirk glanced outside, then back to her. "Let's watch another movie, then it's time to go."

"Okay." Genny couldn't actually wipe the smile off her face as he released her, almost overwhelmed by the thought of having a friend, let alone a best friend. It was a good step for her, she thought, although the idea of being made sociable was a little nerve-wracking. "So what do fag hags do, then?"

He got up to put another movie into the player. "Well they hang out with their Queen, insulting them and poking fun at them and then putting down their boyfriends. They also give the best advice and be brutally honest the way only best friends can be." He walked back to the couch and sank down into one corner of it. "C'mere." He held out his arms and waved his hands towards himself.

"You want me to insult you and Quinn?" She looked a little shocked at that; despite being shy, nice was a word most people would use to describe Genny. Invited to sit next to him, she laughed a little hesitantly, scooping up her glass as she rose to slip down onto the couch beside him. "Why? You've never been anything but nice to me."

"Because I can do some bonehead things and am apt to do them again." He cuddled her back to him as he turned on the movie. The remote was dropped and his glass picked up. "And you only insult the boyfriends if they're bad for your Queen." He canted his head and watched the screen. "So you do it when I'm being stupid."

She laughed a little at that. "I'll try," she promised him, settling comfortably. "But you should probably tell Quinn that if I relax too much here, I'll take my gloves off, and then I'll know way too much about your relationship," she added with a giggle.

"You already know way too much." He laughed softly and sipped his wine over her shoulder. "But it's not something I wouldn't have told you anyway. Like you said, I'm not shy."

She giggled. "You still should warn him, just in case I ever meet the guy," she suggested. "That way, at least both of us can be embarrassed, instead of just me." A wicked thought occurred to her, spurred on by the alcohol. "Hey, how about I get you two to test drive any guys who might appeal to me?"

"You'll meet him, might be a little while because we're going on a trip tomorrow, but you will." He arched his neck and gave her an incredulous look. "Test drive? Umm... you don't mean..."

The laugh that escaped her was probably the most evil sound she'd ever come out with, and very giggly at the same time. "Oh god, you thought I was serious!"

Dirk hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek. "We'll have a wizard come in and cleanse the apartment of evil auras, how about that? My friend Russ is in town. I'm sure he'd be happy to do it."

She was quiet for a moment, imagining the freedom to stay out late or lie in bed late, without incurring the wrath of the landlady. "I'd like that a lot," she said finally, hugging the arm he had around her. "If you're really sure ..."

"It's settlled then. You'll get your stuff moved in while I'm away. Let me call Russ." He moved out from behind her and went to get his cell phone. He spoke on it briefly and then returned with a smile. "He'll be here in about an hour or so. If I'm gone, you'll let him in?"

"What, tonight?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she sat up, watching him on the phone. Her expression of surprise deepened with the news that his friend would be there soon. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"What's the point of wasting time?" He chuckled and slid back behind her. "You'll love Russ. All of the ladies do. And all I have to give him is hot chocolate and he'll do anything."

"And he's ... safe, is he?" she asked nervously. Despite the alcohol, the shyness was still going to take a while to erode away. She pulled her gloves tight on her hands and arms as she rested back against Dirk.

"Yes, very safe. He's a puppy if you give him hot chocolate. The man loves the stuff." He chuckled at that. "And I think he might be immune to some stuff. He's pretty powerful and very old."

She tensed a little. "How old?" As in, how many memories was she likely to pick up if she accidentally brushed her skin against this Russ fellow's?

"Nobody knows, he doesn't tell." Dirk shrugged then. "But no worries, he's no more lecherous than that old fart that comes into the deli and flirts with you."

She giggled at that, even if the sound was a bit uncertain. "He's sweet," she said in defense of her friendly old man. "He doesn't mean anything by it, he's just lonely."

"Oh, you fancy the old gent, do ya?" He laughed with her and gave her a hug around her waist.

"I do not!" Slapping lightly at his arm, she laughed, shaking her head. "Although he's probably better boyfriend material than most of the men who wander through every day."

"You're not kidding there. I got the only guy in Rhydin that's hot and isn't full of himself. Bunch of pretty boys that know it. Nothing worse." He shook his head ruefully.

Genny laughed again at that. "Mat isn't full of himself," she defended their boss' boyfriend. "Well, not much. Is he?"

"Are you kidding me? He bragged his way into Sadie's heart!" Dirk couldn't help but laugh. "Thank the Gods!"

Genny's jaw dropped as he came back out, her eyes wandering south before she snapped them back up to his face. "Dirk, you're naked," she pointed out superfluously.

"What?" Dirk looked down at himself then back up at her. "Yes, I'm naked. Tired of having to buy new clothes every time I go hunting." He shrugged and handed over the shirt. "Key's in the pocket."

"O-okay." She took the shirt, trying hard not to stare at all the skin, before realising she was probably going to have to get used to it if she was moving in here. "You want me to lock up when I leave, yes?"

"Yes, please." Dirk was accustomed to people staring at him, so he made no notice of her doing it. "I left my bedroom window open. It's how I usually come in anyway. Straight shot to the shower so I don't track blood through the place." he grinned then and went to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. "Tell Russ I said hi!" He stepped out onto the balcony and crouched. Moments later, a wolf; gray and white with a shock of blond on it's brow, sat where Dirk had been. A long, plaintive howl sounded as it lifted it's snout to the heavens. And then he was gone.

And Genny was treated to the sight of a human aura flickering into an animal aura with little to no change in colour, merely the distribution of that colour. Oddly, she wasn't even slightly afraid of the wolf, watching him bound away for a long moment before returning her attention to the shirt in her hands. Shrugging out of her wet shirt, she drew the fresh one over her head, relieved that no kinky memories came with the contact with her skin.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he joked and rubbed his eyes once more before dropping his hands. "You're an angel, Genny." He held out his hands to receive the cup. "Touch the butcher block over there. Tell me what you see."

Despite barely knowing him, Genny was eager to see how his bit of magic had worked, handing him the hot mug and pulling off her gloves eagerly. She hesitated only once before laying her palms on the block, and let out a delighted little laugh. "Nothing ... I can't see anything!"

He took the mug and rocked back in the chair. A smile was hidden behind the rim as he poked a finger into the steaming slurry, causing it to cool immediately. "How precious it is to be blind." There was a soft chuckle and then silence as he drank the entire contents of the cup. "Oh, pure heaven, heaven I tell you. I'm going to need more, please?" He got up then and wandered into the living room. First place he stopped was the dvd rack. "Gross, Dirk, gross." he shook his head at the amount of gay porn. "Should change these, too. Just to be ornery." That brought a smile on his face as his hands trailed along the spines of the videos.

She giggled at that, running her bare hand along the counter just for the joy of it before taking the mug back from him. She only got the barest flash of him drinking from it, nothing more, and it made her smile grow wider. "I should tell you now I'll do anything for you because of this," she joked cheerfully, turning to warm more milk.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to her with a wicked little grin. "Oh really?"

"Within reason," was added hurriedly at the grin on his face, which had brought a blush to her cheeks almost the moment she'd clocked it. "I mean, well .... uh ..." Genny lowered her eyes, mortified with her own embarrassment.

"Don't worry, I'm an old lech, but I'm no slut." He shook his head and went back to work. "Takes me time to get to know a person before I become close." It'd been a very long time since he had been intimately close to anybody and he sighed ruefully. "Just hard to be that close to somebody and watch them die. After that happened the third time, I just kind of stopped trying."

At this, her eyes snapped up to him once more, filled with sympathetic compassion. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said gently. "I couldn't imagine that, it must be so painful." A sizzling from the pan reminded her what she was doing, and she turned to fix another mug of cocoa for him. "Do you know Dirk very well?"

"It's alright, lost my Claira to the bubonic plague. She was the last." It'd been centuries since that time so he could say it with a bit of apathy. "Yeah, I know Dirk, he's like a little brother to me. I let him know when he's screwed up and take care of him when he needs it." He sat down heavily on the couch to catch his breath. "And boy, did he need it there for a while."

"He says I'm going to be his fag hag," she offered to the conversation, putting the pan to soak in the sink before bringing his fresh cocoa over to him. "And that I have to move in, although I'm not really objecting to either of those." She giggled a little, tilting her head as she handed him the mug. "You don't have to do this if it's going to tire you out. I mean, I can cope, and we can just tell Dirk that you did do it."

Russ laughed tiredly and accepted the mug gratefully. "Thank you. And you must be something else. Dirk doesn't take to women at all. And I'll finish the apartment, except his bedroom. Even I have my limits." He chuckled softly until the rim of the mug met his lips.

She laughed softly, lowering herself onto the edge of the couch. "I wouldn't ask you to venture in there," she grinned. "From what I've seen, I think it would probably take all your energy just to clear the bed."

She was, in fact, following him with her gaze around the room, curious and stunned all at once. "You have no idea how strange it is to see the world properly," she admitted with a faint chuckle. "I haven't looked at anything without seeing an aura since I was thirteen. I really don't know how to thank you. Hot chocolate doesn't seem like enough."

"It is enough. Honestly." He took a moment to grab a pillow and wipe the sweat from his brow on it. "May I ask you something?"

Her head tilted in curiosity again as he ventured to question her, arms wrapping about herself as she turned to look at him. "Of course."

"Has anybody ever taught you how to rein in your powers? Control it?" He clenched his fist as he said the words "Control it" and bared his teeth. "It's so empowering, Genny."

She shrugged faintly. "I have asked," she admitted quietly. "And people have tried. But apparently it's hereditary, and it was most likely planted on one of my ancestors as a curse. So it can't be controlled."

"Is that what you believe?" Russ turned to look at her full on. The question had no malice or heat behind it at all. He wanted her opinion.

She stared into space for a long moment. "I think my father had it," she said finally, looking up at him with a resigned expression on her face. "And maybe my grandmother, too. If the people I've spoken to were right about it being passed down, then I think they're right about it being a curse, too. And it makes sense that a curse can't be controlled."

Russ walked over to the kitchen table and pulled a chair out for her. "Please, have a seat."

She eyed the chair warily for a moment. "Why, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to tell you something that's going to blow your mind. And then I'm going to prove it. Please, have a seat. I promise, it won't hurt."

She moved over to the table cautiously, lowering herself into it in no little confusion as she looked up at him.

Lifting his hand, he placed it gently onto her shoulder. His hand vibrated just a bit with the positive energy he pulsed downwards through his fingers. Then he moved away, walking back out into the living room. "Now, how long after your father told you about these things he could see before you started seeing them, too?" He picked up an old baseball, tossed it into the air and caught it. He began meandering, once again.

She shivered at the pulse of energy into her, feeling her spirits lift a little. It was just as well, because the mention of her father sent them plummeting again. "He never told me," she said quietly. "I started seeing things when I was about thirteen. He never said what it was or how I could do it, but he understood where my mum didn't."

"Fair enough. How long after you first started noticing these things did you tell him about them?" An envelope, still holding the bill inside, was picked up and glanced at. Russ nodded slightly and then moved back to the table. Pulling out a chair opposite of her, he sat down.

"I ... I didn't tell him until I was about eighteen or nineteen, I suppose?" she said thoughtfully. "I thought I was a freak. And he thought I was a loner by choice, and didn't want to bring it up with me. I think my grandmother left him something when she died, something that made him ask me about it."

The baseball and the envelope were placed upon the table and Russ sat back. "I see." He thought this over for a few moments before sighing softly. "Here's the secret to magic and things supernatural. It's all in what you believe, Genny. Your father didn't know how to control what he had. I daresay your grandmother didn't either. So they couldn't teach you how to do it. I'm going to attempt to teach you how to make liars out of those that told you that you can't control it."

"For more coin than you probably could dish out, they might have." He shrugged and sat back. "If you don't believe, then I can't teach you."

Her eyes lowered in disappointment. "I can't force myself to believe something."

He watched her, a frown creasing the lines between his brows. "Do you believe I am sitiing right in front of you?"

She looked up, and blinked, surprised. Then she twisted in her seat, looking around the room intently. "Well ... you're not sitting in front of me, are you? Your aura's gone."

"Yet, here I am, at this table, looking at you. How'd I do that?" He smiled then and sat back in his chair.

She turned back to look at him, suddenly suspicious that she was being played with. "How should I know?" she said, the tone of her voice betraying quiet anger. "Waving your abilities around in front of me isn't going to make me suddenly believe that you can change twelve years of utter hell."

"Not my intention, dear." He spoke softly, calmly. "Can you imagine your power? See it flowing through you?"

"But it isn't a power," she protested softly. "It's just something that happens when I touch anything, anyone."

"it is a power," he insisted. "An electric charge that transfers the memories and thoughts and feelings of the person you're touching with bare flesh. Does that sound reasonable?"

She thought it over, suppressing the urge to object without thinking. "Well ... I suppose it does," she conceded with a small frown. "In a way."

"Okay. So close your eyes and imagine the electrical charge as an extension of your arm. Kind of like extra fingers." He sat back again, waiting patiently.

Again came an objection, even as she obediently closed her eyes. "But it's not an extension of my arm, it happens if I touch things with any part of my skin."

"Tut!" Came that authoritative voice once again. "Concentrate. Tell me when you can see it."

Speaking to her as though she was a disobedient child wasn't likely to win him any brownie points. Genny bit down another objection and concentrated on imagining that extension of her arm. But no matter how she tried, it wasn't happening.

Russ sighed, seeing the frustration on her face. "Relax, Genny. Breathe, in your nose, out of your mouth. Slow, slow. Concentrate on your breathing."

She sagged for a moment, laying her hands flat on the table for the time being, and did as he told her, listening to the intake and exhale of her breath for several long minutes. However, when nothing else seemed forthcoming, she had to say something. "If I breathe any more, I'm going to pass out," she complained, opening her eyes to look at him.

When she opened her eyes, he wasn't there. Leaning against the cupboard behind her, his arms were crossed and he was gently stroking his goatee.

She turned, laying her eyes on him almost immediately, as though she'd known where he was the instant she'd seen he wasn't where she had expected.

"It's been a long night." He didn't look at her, and it seemed that he was speaking to a speck of dust between himself and the floor. "I'm going to finish up." With a nod of his head, he pushed off of the counter and out into the living room. "Keep trying, if you like. But until you believe that you can do it, you won't." He shrugged and closed his eyes as he put his hand against the wall.

It was a difficult thing, asking her to believe in herself when that meant believing in the thing she had hated for so long. And it wasn't going to happen overnight ... although perhaps choosing a night when she was sober might have been a better idea. She hadn't meant to disappoint him, but she still had a sneaking suspicion that he was playing with her, that he was finding something amusing about her inability to understand herself.

Russ lowered his hand to hers, no transfer of any memories this time. If anything, she felt a warm, positive energy pulse through his hand. "I met my mentor. I was just like you, failing to believe in myself and my own powers. It took him months just to break the barrier inside of me and I started to believe I could do things." Leaning back, he broke contact. "I levitated a pebble." He chuckled softly. "When I saw it float, I just knew I could do anything again. After that, things went rather quickly." He reached up then, to grasp a polished stone around his neck. "Want to see the proof, or do you believe me?"

Listening, she was distracted by the gentle pulse of warmth from his hand up her arm, glancing down to it often. With the contact broken, however, she returned her attention to his face and words, and it was a moment before she answered. "I don't know," she said softly. It wasn't a yes ... but it wasn't a complete refusal to believe as before,

He removed the necklace and placed it onto the table besides the baseball and envelope. "Put your gloves on and keep this in your pocket or someplace else safe. When you decide, hold it. You'll see."

Her eyes lowered onto the polished stone with quiet curiosity. She didn't doubt he was right that she needed to believe in her own ability, but she had been right about no one being about to force belief on her. She'd have to come to it herself, and that could mean he would be waiting for her to touch that stone of her own accord. She glanced up to answer, and blinked in surprise. He was gone, and the apartment felt empty. A faint smile touched her lips as her gloved fingers closed over the stone. Despite all the confusion of the evening, she'd made friends. And that had made all the difference.

((Posted with permission and much thanks!))