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| - Where could Jessalyn be? Shenner doesn't know, and after having poked about the base tonight to try to find her, she now paces the barracks restlessly, waiting for the woman to return. The kid eyes the floor as she walks back and forth, one hand in her vest pocket, the other fidgeting with the slight weight of the ocarina dangling from her neck. Striding into the barracks at a fair clip comes Paul, his hair hanging in his face as if tousled furiously by the wind. His face is ruddy and he is definitely developing something of a tan these days. His eyes are bright with exertion, but his face looks somber. His guitar is held to his body by a strap, which is currently across his chest, leaving the guitar conveniently strapped to his back and out of the way. He stops after entering the barracks and looks around dazedly, as if not realizing where he is. As you enter, Shen comes around on another leg of her pacing, and pauses there, halted, at the sight of you. As she sees _you_ stop, she blinks, then plasters on a half-grin. "Hiya." Paul blinks and looks over at hearing Shenner's voice and then grins at her. "Hey there," he chirps at her. "How's it going?" He changes his trajectory and now heads straight for the girl, the guitar whumping against his back softly with each step. Shenner shrugs, laconically. "Goin'," she answers amiably enough. Then her expression shifts a little, as though that word affects her somehow, and she adds, "Just been... makin' arrangements, tonight." Paul reaches Shen and smiles at her warmly, as if she were especially pleasing somehow. He reaches around to pull the guitar from his frame and asks idly, "Arrangements? What kind of arrangements ... you meeting someone for dinner or something?" Shenner quirks an eyebrow at the guitar, in passing curiosity, even as she says just as casually, "Talked with General Calhoun. 'Bout gettin' me in with the NR, see." Pulling the guitar free, Paul's face falls a little at the girls words, and in a slightly darker more suspicious tone he replies, "Oh? And what did you two decide?" He holds the guitar in one hand by the neck, letting it dangle for a moment. Shenner keeps casual, not quite looking at the man with the guitar, as she answers, "Well, the General don't think I oughtta get sent into danger." She smirks; something about this seems to annoy her, but she doesn't comment upon what. "So he thinks, maybe, I could be his aide, or get assigned to work with Jessalyn. He's gotta go to Kashyyyk, though, says I oughtta come with him and Luke if I wanna sign on, 'cause that's where his garrison's at." Paul manages to look both relieved and annoyed at this news and sits down on Shenner's bunk heavily, letting the guitar sit on his lap. "Well," he lets out on a huff, "then I guess you've decided, haven't you?" He lifts his fingers and begins to tune the guitar, which seems silly, as it sounds like it is in perfect tune to begin with. He tightens the strings and then releases them again to regain their previous pitch. Shenner rolls her shoulders in another shrug. "I gotta do somethin'," she notes, a slight stress on the last word. "Can't be mopin' around like a snifflin' kid." Saying this, she looks off slightly, before smirking again and adding, "Time to join the grownups. Grownups have jobs. And... well, General Calhoun did offer me one, so." Paul shrugs but doesn't look up from his fruitless task. "I thought you were going to be a musician," he mutters. With a shrug he stops his retuning and abruptly stands and turns toward his bunk growling softly, "Well that's nice and I'm glad you feel like this is what you want ... but just a tip, being a so called grownup ain't all it's cracked up to be." Shenner doesn't look at you as you move off towards your own bunk; she simply shrugs again, and eyes the floor as she mutters, "It'd be real damned dumb of me to count on people fallin' all over themselves to hear me make music." Her tone's a listless one, and as you abandon her bunk, she sits down on it herself, moving to tug off her boots, as best as she can manage with her bandaged hands. Paul pauses for a sec and looks back at Shenner. "Well," he murmurs, "that isn't the point ... the point is doing something that you love, the rest falls into place after that," and then he turns and heads over to his bunk. Seating himself there for a moment, he moves to put the guitar away and then stops and pulls the instrument back into his lap and begins to play a piece of music. It isn't a piece that you've heard him play before, but it sounds more like his style than the other stuff he tends to play. It's a very gently melodic piece with a line that rises and falls like questions and answers, repeating rhythmically. It has a strange quality to it - sweetly melancholy with a hint of yearning in the soft high cries of the ringing strings. He watches his hands carefully, as if unsure of the exact fingering. The girl glances down your way, attention caught by the chords. As long as you're not looking, she glances uneasily down at her hands, before scowling to herself over them. Shenner finally calls over, in a tone that suggests she'd rather be muttering this but is aware that a mutter wouldn't carry down the room towards you, "Ain't really been much up for music-makin' anyway. Eight-hour guitar marathon'sll do that." Her eyes darkening, the kid lies down, placing her head on her pillow. Paul stops his playing at the timbre of the girl's voice, feeling an unconscious message being broadcast. Slowly rising Paul heads back over to Shen's bunk and looks down at her, the guitar still held in his left hand by the neck. He stands there a moment uncertain whether to press her for what is wrong or try to make her feel better. Instead, what comes out of his mouth has nothing to do with either thought. "Well, then how about we work on your singing?" he offers as a solution. The girl looks up at you, and says peevishly, "I _know_ how to sing, Paul..." But there is, as she speaks, nevertheless a strangely contradictory wistfulness in her eyes -- at least for a moment. Paul chuckles and sits down on the bed next to her. "Well, maybe you do and maybe you don't. Most people think they know how to sing and they sound alright, but next thing you know, they can't sing a note ... ruin their voices before they've even hit their peak." He smiles down at Shen's obstinate face. "Your voice is an instrument, just as much as your guitar is or your flute is ... if you don't play it properly, you won't get as much out of it." Shenner doesn't shift her posture where she lies, but she does look up at you warily. "How the kark can you play a voice?" Paul chuckles and sits back a bit, patting the bunk to indicate that you should sit up next to him. "Well, you're voice is an instrument, but it's made up of living tissues ... but you have a windbox and several different reverberating chambers at your disposal, not to mention a built in pitch modulator, an amplifier, and a tuner." Shenner frowns at this, and, grudgingly, sits up... as far away as possible as she can manage on the length of the bunk. "Huh?" she answers, brow crinkling. "You sound like you're talkin' about a droid or somethin'...." Chuckling again Paul moves so that he is kneeling on the floor in front of Shenner. "Well, I was trying to put your body in terms of a musical instrument. Here, I'll use the guitar to draw some parallels," he notes idly and places the guitar next to Shen on the bed. "However," he notes, "first things first. Just like any other wind instrument, your voice uses air to make sounds, so how you breath in and release notes becomes extremely important. I want you to take a breath in for me and then pick any note, sing it, and hold it for as long as you can." Shenner's face is still crinkled in bemusement, but she obeys you. Her stance and expression suggest she's slightly torn as to whether she's just humoring you... or genuinely interested. Or both. She sucks in a breath and lets it out on a low C, which she begins to hold. The note starts off a little flat and then comes up to pitch and holds for awhile, fairly strong, but it quickly loses steam and ends after about 15 seconds or so. Paul nods, knowing where to start now and smiles at Shen. "Okay, let's work on your breathing." Leaning forward he places his hands on each of your shoulders and looks you in the eyes. "Now, when you breathe in, your shoulders and chest rise. This means that you are using the muscles in your chest to pull in air, and it makes your breath weak and unstable. You need to breathe from your diaphragm." Shenner flinches, ever so slightly, at your contact, and her gaze darts away from yours even as she frowns and asks, "What the kark's a diaphragm?" Paul withdraws his hands and chuckles again. "Right, guess we better start there." With that he slips his left hand behind the middle of your back and his right hand finds the side of your ribcage and then slides around so that it is pressing against your sternum, just at the base, a little below your breasts. He pushes gently against the muscle there. "That," he says as he pushes, "is your diaphragm ... when you take in a breath that muscle flexes downward," and he illustrates this by cupping his hand there palm up. "That causes your lungs to drop down and air to fill them. When you exhale, it flips," and he turns his hand so it is cupped with the palm down, "and pushes the air out. Get it?" Shenner swallows, and although you might not feel her pulse speed up through your hands, it flutters at the base of her throat. Forced into sitting straighter by your explanation -- and your touch -- she stiffens noticeably, and gives you a too-rapid nod. It takes her a moment before she can manage to say, gruffly, "Yeah. I... get it." Paul removes his hands and grins at her. "Lie back down and don't move," he says, a strange gleam coming into his eyes. "I'll be right back," and with that he rises and dashes off toward his bunk. Shenner gapes after Paul as he strides off, her face going actively white for a moment. Lie _down_? Blank startlement keeps her sitting there, staring Paul reaches his bunk and ducking low, pulls out one of his bags and starts rummaging through it. He stops briefly to roll up his sleeves, which have slipped, and then continues to paw through clothing and research. He looks up briefly and seeing Shenner still upright he chides her, "Just put the guitar on the floor and lie back ... and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right there," and then he continues to rummage though his things, pulling out a few books and stacking them on the bed as if getting them out of his way. Shenner blurts, "Why?" He looks up again and raises his eyebrows, "I'm gonna help you understand what it feels like," he replies, looking at the books for a moment and then digging in the bag again. "Relax Shen," he says over his shoulder, "this won't hurt," he teases lightly. "What _what_ feels like?" the girl demands. "What do I gotta lie down for?" Paul rises, adding another book to the stack and then picking them all up. As he draws near he grins at her. "Just lie back and I'll show you." Shenner's brow crinkles as she sees the books -- clearly, they perplex her. But slowly, grudgingly, she sets the guitar on the floor and lies back as requested. Kneeling next to the bed again, Paul raises the stack of books and settles them over her diaphragm. "Okay, now I want you to breathe in and make the books rise up with each intake of air, and descend with each exhale." Green eyes wide, Shenner gapes again at this bizarre exercise, and stares at Paul as if she can't quite decide whether the man's cracked. "How come?" she asks, gruffly. Paul chuckles. "Man, you are just all questions tonight. The reason we're doing this is because it is hard to understand exactly how your diaphragm works - you don't really feel it as much when you are sitting and standing ... but this way you can feel the muscle moving, pressing against the books and making them rise as you breath in. It's a good exercise to practice to make sure that you are breathing from your diaphragm and not your chest. Now try it," he coaxes her. Shenner swallows, but finally nods, taking an experimental breath in. As she does, she starts a little, instinctively reaches for the books as if expecting them to fall over. Paul touches the books lightly at her reach. "Don't worry, I won't let them tip," he says, "just concentrate on the breathing - making those books rise and fall." The girl nods, dubiously, and lets her hands drop back. She eyes the books, and starts carefully breathing, trying to see if she can lift the weight of those tomes. "You and your books," she mutters. "Well you know, you can dress me up but you can't take me out," he replies idly, watching to books tentatively rise and fall. Shenner scowls vaguely and mutters, very softly, something that might be 'Don't wanna dress you up.' Then, stoically, she focuses on the breathing practice. Paul watches the books rise and fall, somewhat erratically at first and then stronger and stronger with each breath. "Okay, try taking a really deep breath and make the books rises as much as you can and then let the breath out slowly through your mouth ... can you feel it now?" he asks curiously. This, too, is erratically done, but Shenner bobs her head at last, and mumbles, "Yeah," when the books go as low as they can. Sensing that perhaps Shen is finding this a tad boring, or maybe just weird, Paul leans over and removes the weight of the books. "Okay, that was good, now if you'll sit up we'll see what your range is ... or do you not want to do this?" he asks tentatively. Shenner replies with a wide -- but clearly nervous -- smile. "Nah, nah, it's okay, I'm okay... I'm okay." Paul gives her a tentative smile and offers an arm for her to pull herself up with. "Okay, let's see what you got then." Shenner, though, sits up without assistance, not looking at you as she does -- so perhaps this is why she doesn't seem to notice the offered arm. "R-range is like... how high I can sing, right?" "And how low," Paul replies with a nod and reaches over for his guitar, settling it in his lap as he sits of the floor in front of Shen, looking up into her face. "Now I am going to play a series of scales and I want you to sing along, note for note ... if it gets either too high or too low, I want you to just stop singing, okay?" "Yeah... sure. Sure thing," Shenner answers gamely enough. But she avoids your gaze. Frowning slightly at Shenner's reluctance to meet his gaze, Paul replies uncertainly, "Well, okay here we go, and remember to draw deep breaths and keep your shoulders down," and starts off with a scale in the middle range. He continues to play upward scales, increment by increment and watching how Shen sings. He waits till she either stops singing or starts obviously straining her voice to reach the notes. The kid's voice is steady and clear on the lower notes that you play; as you go higher, though, after about an octave and a half, her voice becomes slightly watery-sounding. Paul stops playing and nods briefly, "Okay, and now in the other direction," and he begins to play progressively lower and lower scales. That gets you another steady octave. Not once does the kid look at you; in fact, through most of the scales, she's closed her eyes. Paul sets the guitar aside and pronounces, "Well, it looks like you're an alto, with a strong lower range and a slightly weaker upper register, but we can improve on that." He then looks at the girl for a moment and grins. "Ah, you can open your eyes now," he teases, "the torture is over." "What? Oh..." Shenner's eyes snap open, and she huhs. "Alto. Huh. Okay..." Paul nods. "And a nice one at that - you've got good tonality. Now, I don't want to throw a whole lot at you at once, so we'll just cover a couple more things and then we can do more later if you still want to?" His face looks a little concerned, as if he could sense that something wasn't quite right, but couldn't pin point the cause. Shenner nods back at Paul, a bit too briskly, a bit too rapidly. "Yeah... sure. Sure thing. Now what?" Paul sits back on his heels for a moment and then rises to his knees again, which brings him a few inches closer. "Okay, well men's voices and women's voice are pretty different. Men have a fairly flawless register until we have to go into head voice, or falsetto, to reach really high notes. Women have a funny breaking point in their voices where the change from chest voice to head voice - feels awkward and you'll have a desire to try to punch though it or force your voice. Don't, cause you'll only ruin your voice if you do that. So, what I want you to do is going to sound a little funny, but when you sing low notes, think high, and when you sing high notes I want you to think low." Shenner looks more or less at your shoulder, or perhaps at the wall past it. Her brow crinkles again. "What's that supposed to mean?" she says. Paul reaches forward and touching Shenner's throat lightly he replies, "When you sing high notes, your larynx actually physically drops," and his finger slides down to illustrate that motion, "so if you think up for high notes, you'll find that you are straining to reach them and you're thinking the opposite of what your body is doing, so you are in a sense defeating yourself. And for low notes, if you think too low, you'll go flat and potentially force the note and strain your vocal chords. At the touch to her throat, Shenner involuntarily swallows, and her voice takes on a rougher edge as she blurts, "G-got it. You, uh, you want me to try it now?" Paul draws his hand away and nods. "Yeah, sure," he murmurs, not missing the rush of her pulse under his fingertip. "And what will help you when you do this is when you sing high notes either lower a hand or point down to the ground, or even better, lower yourself to the ground ... and you'll be surprised how much purer the pitch will be." He sets himself back a bit and then hastily adds, "and the same for low notes ... point up or raise your hand." Shenner again nods, too rapidly, and points a hand to the ceiling, fastening her eyes directly on her bandaged fingers. She sucks in a breath, and slowly lets it free on a low G. Shenner's hand, however, shakes ever so slightly where she has it lifted in the air. Paul frowns slightly and stands, taking the hand in his and pointing it firmly up, "You got to want it," he urges softly, "now try that note again and see if it sounds even more in tune." Shenner flinches, for, in standing and taking her hand, you plant yourself right in her line of sight. She tries the note again, but it, like her hand, quavers. Paul stops for a moment and frowns again. "Maybe I'm doing this all wrong," he murmurs. "I should have done exercises first," and with that he hunkers down in front of Shenner again and places his hands on her shoulders, idly massaging them as he continues, "You can't sing well if you're not relaxed, so there are a whole bunch of different exercises you can do to loosen up your neck and shoulders," he notes, his hands moving to Shen's neck and exploring the tension there. "Jeez Shen, no wonder you're having trouble, you are so tense!" he notes in surprise and confusion. Shenner yelps, "I'm fine!" When your hands touch her shoulders, you can find that they are almost as stiff and unyielding as the floor; her neck, taut and tight. She involuntarily jerks at your contact, looking actively frightened, and fumbles at your hands with her bandaged ones, babbling on, "I-I'm fine, really, it's just late and all, maybe I better get to sleep, ain't been sleepin' too hot so I-I need all the sleep I can get!" Paul lets Shenner's bandaged hands pull his away from her neck, but he takes them in his own and draws them forward, placing them on her thighs and covering them gently, patting them. "Hey, hey, it's alright, calm down," he murmurs, his expression moving from confused to concerned to a touch guilty. "It's okay, I didn't mean to push you or anything. I'm sorry Shen," he mumbles sheepishly and then he withdraws his hands, but remains kneeling in front of her. Jessalyn arrives from the corridor. Jessalyn has arrived. Shenner, sitting there on her bunk, looks like nothing less than someone trembling violently and trying very hard to pretend she isn't. She's blushing, too, and her eyes have grown suspiciously liquid as she tries not to look at Paul, who kneels contritely before her. "'Mfine," the kid repeats, and again, as though she's trying to enforce the idea by repetition. "'Mfine." Jessalyn wanders wearily into the room, dark circles beneath her eyes, her face even paler than usual. As the door closes behind her, she glances around, hands balled into fists inside her trouser pockets, and she abruptly frowns as she catches sight of Paul and Shenner -- especially when she notes the girl's stricken expression. Paul stays were he is, uncertain if he should comfort her or if that would only make matters worse. He starts to reach for her arm and then stops himself, his face growing grave as he takes in her trembling form. "Ah, should I just give you some space, or do you need a hug?" he asks tentatively. Shenner's eyes slowly, but inexorably, tear over, and she opens her mouth to speak. But the sound of the door -- and the sight of Jessalyn, when the kid flicks a frightened glance in that direction -- cuts her off. "Should I... leave?" Jessa's exhausted voice asks, and she half-turns as if to show she is sincere, and certainly not in any state to get involved in yet another showdown between the two. At the sign of Shenner's tears, Paul's face crumples a bit and he starts to say, "Awww, Shen ..." but at the girls reaction he stops and says, "Space, okay space," and he draws back carefully and then rises, looking back to Jessalyn, his face fretful. "Ah no, we were just having a voice lesson is all, but well, things got ...." and his voice trails off uncertainly. Paul looks around then, "but I think that perhaps I should go out for a bit." and starts to head over to his bunk to get his jacket. Shenner mumbles, "I'm okay... I-I'm okay..." Then, awkwardly, she abruptly turns on the bunk. Her bandaged hands grab at the pillow as she curls up there, pressing her face into the pillow's side. Jessalyn watches Paul curiously, then turns her worried eyes back toward Shenner, asking a wordless question. Turning around with jacket in hand Paul catches Jessalyn's face and gives her a confused and pained expression, as if he didn't have any more clues than she did. When he sees Shen curl up, he heads back to her bunk without thinking, the worry on his face growing stronger until he stops impotently at the bottom of her bunk, torn as to what he should do. Shenner huddles there on her bunk, not looking at either of the adults now, with her face pressed into the pillow and turned towards the wall. Her shoulders are shaking. Jessalyn bends her head, lifting a hand to massage her temples. In a muted voice, she murmurs, "Paul... c'mon. You've.. done enough..." Paul just stands there for a minute ... knowing that he should just leave because that is what she said she wanted, but knowing that he can't leave now. He moves to go to Shenner's side, but Jessalyn's words cut him hard and he stops. After a second, his face goes icily blank and grabbing his guitar from the floor he nods without speaking and heads for the door. Jessalyn looks up, catching Paul's arm as he approaches her in the doorway. She draws him close to her and leans up to whisper quietly to him. You sense: Jessalyn murmurs against your ear, "Don't feel guilty, Paul. It's not your fault, but she's right. She does need some space. Come, let's have a walk..." Paul stops as Jessalyn catches his arm, staring at her hard, his face eerily blank. He frowns at her words starts to say something, but then his shoulders droop slightly and looking back at Shen he winces and nods and then turns for the door again. You head back into the corridor. A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms. Jessalyn arrives from the Barracks. Jessalyn has arrived. You go back to Calamari. Calamari Coral City -- Main Spaceport A large docking bay, people of all races bustling between various terminals, the hum of many conversations in different tongues periodically muted by the roaring of a shuttle's engines. Expansive white walls, smooth and cold as washed stone, gleam in the soft light cast by the fixtures in the ceiling. There is the continuous shuffle of cargo being loaded and unloaded and the need to move out of harms way as a cargo lifter passes by you. Occasionally a wisp of salty air tickles your nose but it quickly fades away. A cargo lifter scoots by as it heads toward one of the private docks then disappears north toward the space platform. To the south the shapes and lights of a lively city can be seen. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Shuttle Information Board Jessalyn arrives from somewhere. Jessalyn has arrived. Once outside, Paul just stands there, letting the wind whip his hair about and looking around. Jessalyn merely goes to the outer wall of the building and leans against it, looking thoughtful, arms folded over her chest. "Paul... it's all right," she says distantly. Paul follows her, his steps uneven, until he too is leaning against it. He pulls the guitar over his head and settles the strap around himself. "No it's not," he replies tersely, staring out into the night. Jessalyn narrows her eyes slightly, looking at you. "Well... in any case, it can't be helped. There's nothing to be done, Paul. We just... cope." She rubs at the corner of her eyes tiredly. Narrowing his eyes, Paul shrugs his shoulders, the guitar shifting against his back. Instead of responding to Jessalyn's words, Paul poses a question to her out of the blue. "Jessalyn? What is love?" He asks the question much in the same way a child who didn't know why the sky was blue might ask. Jessalyn bends her head, biting her lip almost as if she had expected the question. "Paul... don't ask me that right now. Please." Her throat works convulsively as she struggles to maintain her composure. Paul's head turns, his inner struggles and thoughts visible for a moment until he notices Jessalyn's distress. Like a switch, he seems to close off his own concerns and reaching out with one hand, he lightly touches Jessalyn's shoulder. "Jessa? What's wrong? What's happened?" He turns to face her, his expression intent on hers. Jessalyn straightens her shoulders, her spine going rigid defensively. "Nothing," she breathes, and not as a means of evading the question, but as a sincere answer. "Nothing has happened, Paul." Then, as if to add something substantive, she declares, "I'll be going off to Yavin soon." Paul watches her for a moment longer. "I thought we were friends," he replies. "I thought my shoulder was yours for the asking ... and it isn't going anywhere for awhile ... I'm not running." Jessalyn lifts her gaze to yours gaugingly. "I'm not going to cry," she says in a steady, calm voice, a hint of resignation in it. "It's past that now, Paul. Though I do still need... a friend." The misery flashes like a shadow through her eyes for just a moment, then a quick and easy smile appears on her face, and she holds out her hand. Paul gives her a gentle smile. "Shoulders are made for more than just soaking up tears Jessa ... they are made to lift and carry and support too." He reaches out with his hand to take hers. Jessalyn gives a tired smile, and squeezes the offered hand. "Thank you, Paul. Just having you around makes me a feel a lot better." Paul steps closer and wraps an arm around Jessa's shoulders drawing her against his side. "Yeah," he replies softly. "me too ... with you that is." He takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm taking Shen with me," he announces out of the blue. "That is, if she'll come ..." he adds with a hint of doubt coming into his voice at the unexpected thought. Where that came from is unknown. Somewhere, in the back of Paul's mind he was realizing that he had drastically misjudged the situation ... and Shenner's reactions, her emotions, so closely mirrored his own when Serent left him. Suddenly it seemed that the best thing to do would be to keep her with him - for better hopefully and not for worse. It was a risk, but perhaps if this was just a crush, she would simply grow out of it ... or perhaps if it was something more, well perhaps that was something tha t he needed as well. After all, while he might not be the ideal man for Shen, he certainly wasn't the worst either, right? Despite his rationale, that still didn't sit quite right with him, but who was he to throw up a barrier and close off all doors? Dr. Paul Nighman, Ph. D - Commitment Dodging Expert, that's who. Some spasm of pain flickers over Jessalyn's face as she gazes up at Paul, but it is quickly hidden, and she smiles more widely. "Oh. I see...." Paul catches the look and frowns at it. "Ah, Jessa?" he asks quizzically. "Is this a problem? She told me that she was going to join the army and go to Kashyyyk for training. Is there something I don't know?" Jessalyn shakes her head slowly, looking off in the distance. "No," she says hastily. "No... apparently I'm the one who doesn't know." She gulps and leans wearily against you, closing her eyes tightly. Paul fidgets uncomfortably and pulls Jessa tightly against him. "Jessa, I'm getting confused, and considering how confused I was to begin with, I think if I'm any more confused it might be terminal." He turns her in his grasp so that they are facing one another and leans his head down to hers. "I need my friend now, I need to know what you are thinking. Please?" His eyes reflect concern and compassion. Jessalyn looks up at you from beneath the screen of her lashes, and a smile quivers at the corners of her mouth even as her eyes begin to glisten with moisture. "All I'm really thinking, Paul, is that all of us are about to go our separate ways again. We've all got responsibilities and jobs that will keep us all apart." She tilts her head slightly, reaching one hand to touch your cheek. "I hate that, Paul. Gods, I hate that. Sometimes I think it will tear me apart." Reaching up, Paul covers the hand on his cheek with his own. "Funny," he says in a soft voice, "I've been going my separate way for so long, so deliberately, that it's never been an issue before. Now I'm beginning to understand what you mean, and I guess that's why I've always been the way I've been ... I don't know which is better or which is worse ... I haven't tried this one before, so I guess I need to now." He caresses her hand softly. "I won't vanish on you Jessa, you have my word ... if you're on Yavin or wherever, I'll visit whenever I can." Jessalyn closes her eyes, turning her fingers gently around your cheek. "That means a lot, Paul. Thank you. I know it's not easy for you to say that. Just as it's not easy for me... to... imagine going on alone." Paul's eyes soften and gleam in the dim light. "Did Shen say she would go with you? If she wants to go with you, that will work too," he says softly. "Even better in fact ... then I won't have to worry about taking her to Mandalore and as soon as I'm done there, I could come to Yavin to see both of you?" he offers as a solution. Jessalyn studies your face carefully, as if aware that it might be a long time before she can do so again. "I told her, it's her decision. Let's just leave it up to her," she replies softly. Paul frowns slightly. "Well, things are a little different now, but the choice is hers and I'll make sure she understands that. She just has more options now, and she doesn't know it yet." He reaches up to trace the line of Jessalyn's face with one hand, his face a mixture of subtle awe and surprise. "You know, I've never had this," he murmurs softly. Jessalyn blinks slowly up at you, turning her cheek against your hand. "Had what, Paul?" His hand stroking her cheek, Paul just smiles. "I dunno, this, friends, loved ones ... people that I care about and who actually care back ... it's just so, different," he murmurs, his hand memorizing the texture of her skin. Jessalyn seems to struggle with something, her body tensing slightly even as she rubs her cheek against the palm touching it. Eyes still closed, lips turned up in a small smile, she murmurs, "I hope that is a good thing for you, Paul. I admit it's a scary thing. I never had that growing up either." Paul smiles gently down into Jessalyn's face, feeling a rush of strong affection and attraction, and is surprised at how welcome a sensation it is ... not uncomfortable and fearful, but just a rich warm tide. "Well," he murmurs, "when I don't fight the current, I find that the water is just fine ... in fact, it feels great," he whispers softly, the wind gently tossing a swatch of hair over his brow. Jessalyn opens her eyes now, the color of a shadowed forest, glittering in the dim light. "I'm glad to hear that. I've worried about you, too, you know." She sighs softly, and finally turns her head to stare off distantly. "You and Shen will always be part of me. But... I have to flee from the rest of this, Paul. I know that makes me a coward, but there's nothing else that I can do." Her lips barely move, and the words are barely heard, are merely breathed out in a muted whisper. Paul shrugs softly and raises his other hand to cup her face gently. "Well, I can't say I haven't felt the urge to flee rise up in me from time to time ... and I don't think it has anything to do with being brave or being a coward ... it's just a choice that we have to make, and sometimes it is the right one." His thumbs caress your cheeks idly as he holds your face in his hands. "I won't think you a coward for making that choice, I only hope that it is the right one for you to make." His eyes sparkle for a moment and he adds, "And even if it's not, it's never too late to make a change ... I'm living proof." Jessalyn manages somehow to draw on strength she wasn't even aware she had, and the sob that threatens to tighten her throat never comes, and the tears that had welled in her eyes never fall to her cheeks. "I don't have a choice," she says with quiet resignation. "But I'm glad that I have friends to help me." Paul observes her brimming eyes with concern, but uncertainty, knowing that somehow there is really nothing he can do to help. His hands drop from her face and encircle her back, drawing her against him in a loving embrace. He holds her tenderly, saying nothing with his voice and everything with his actions. Jessalyn rests her cheek against Paul's chest, and the tender embrace breaks down the barriers that she had so carefully constructed. Her throat constricted, her voice is very tiny and strained as she tries to speak against him. "I have to get away from him, you see. If I don't get away, I'm afraid I'll truly go mad." She pulls away to look up at you, a frightening earnestness in her eyes. Feeling her release her control in his arms brings a soft sigh from Paul, and he holds her tightly until she pulls away from him to look into his eyes. He takes in her earnest gaze somberly and reaches up with one hand to brush an errant curl from her face, his other arm still locked about her form. "Alright," he says soothingly. "When are you going?" Jessalyn seems to wilt. "I'm not sure," she answers honestly. "They're constructing a new base for the Support Corps on Yavin. I suppose that when it's completed I'll head for there. And in the meantime..." She smiles sheepishly. "I'm still on suspension." She slides her arms back around him, resting her cheek against him once again in a comforting hug. Paul hugs Jessalyn back and rests his head utop hers. "Okay then so you'll go to Yavin and I'll find out what Shen wants to do ... and then when I'm done on Mandalore I'll come and visit you." He rocks her from side to side gently and then after a moment says, "I should go and talk to Shenner now ... can you give me a few minutes alone with her?" Jessalyn simply nods, saying nothing, and gives you a brief squeeze before pulling away again. "Just don't get her upset again, okay?" she teases lightly, and jams her hands back down into her pockets. Paul draws away gently after giving her a fierce hug in return. "I better not upset her, cause her tears are harder on me than her fists," he teases back with a large dose of truth mixed in. He turns to head back in and then turns around, "And don't -you- run off anywhere without saying good-bye to me first," he warns, waggling his finger at Jessalyn, and with that, he heads for the barracks. You head into the Womprats room. Womprats Room A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms You head into the Barracks. NR Spare Barracks -- Calamari(#4222RnFJ) Row upon row of meticulously made cots line in military precision down the cold, off-white walls of this plain-looking room, each separated by a barracks locker and side-table. This room is normally silent, the shadows cast by the lights above harsh and stark against the bare floor. You can see doorways leading off into private rooms and bathing rooms at the far end of the hall. Paul steps into the barracks softly, making little noise as he approaches Shenner's bunk with deliberate intent in his step, and no small amount of trepidation on his face. Shenner is still curled up in much the same position as when you left her, her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow, her head pointed at the wall. She does not look up at the sound of the door sliding open, and at least from a distance, it is not readily apparent whether she knows anyone has entered the room. Removing the guitar from around his torso, Paul places it on a nearby bunk and comes over to stand next to Shen. Sitting down on her bunk he touches her back gently and says, "Shen?" You can hear her breath flutter; it is obvious that she is awake. Nevertheless she does not lift her head, and it takes her a moment before she replies, clearly trying for a casual tone but simply coming out gruff, "Yeah?" Paul sits there for a moment and then says softly, "I have a proposal that I would like to run past you." A pause. Then, again: "Yeah?" Paul lays his hand on her back again, stroking her gently and says, "If you want to come with me to Mandalore, then I want you to come ... and if you would rather go with Jessalyn to Yavin, then if you'd be willing to wait for me, I'll come for you once I've finished my work," he whispers softly, his voice warm and growly. The girl immediately stiffens at the touch to her back. Her head lifts up a little off the pillow as you speak, jerking up with almost painful abruptness. "Wh-what? What did you say?" Paul watches the girls body jerk in shock and surprise. Expecting the reaction helps some. He once again says, "I said, you can come with me to Mandalore or you can wait for me on Yavin with Jessalyn, which ever you would prefer." His voice is still soft and whispery, and he lays a hand on her shoulder. Shenner's shoulder twitches when you touch it. She flips over on the bunk, scrambling into sitting up, and backing ever so slightly away from you as far as she can get on the bed. Her face has drained of color, and her eyes have gone round, and she stares at you in utter disbelief. "No... no, I-I can't be hearing this, you, you're just tryin' to make the blubbering kid feel better, right?" That hits home, and hits home hard. "That is exactly what you're doing," his mind cries. He stifles it with a firm hand. Paul leans forward and touches Shenner's face gently, his eyes skimming her features, as if seeing them for the first time and his fingers trace along the edge of her jaw. "No," he murmurs softly, "it's much more than that." You can see the kid swallow convulsively, and she flails backwards with her bandaged hands, perhaps desperately reaching for something to grab onto for support. "Y-you ain't makin' sense, Paul, you g-go out and get drunk again or somethin'? W-wh-what would I wanna go to Mandalore for?" It's very hard for Paul to remain calm in the face of Shenner's panic, but he needs her to understand that he is serious, so he shifts, placing himself in front of her on the bunk and takes her hands carefully in his own. "Careful there," he warns her gently. "I'm not drunk ... and I don't know of any reason that you might want to go to Mandalore, which is why I also suggested that you go with Jessalyn to Yavin if you'd prefer and I'd meet you there afterward." "Y-you still ain't makin' sense," Shenner raggedly blurts out. "Wh-what're you askin' me this for?" Shen's question, her reactions, tell him what he was only guessing at before, that he had truly crushed her heart before. He knew what that was like, and he also knew that there was only one cure for it ... the one that Serent never gave him, her heart. Without thinking, Paul makes a decision based on the fact that he -cannot- do to Shen what Serent did to him. For Paul, it is no longer a question of choice. Paul stares into Shenner's eyes for awhile, studying the green carefully along with his answer. Uncertain he can voice exactly what he wants to say to her, Paul reaches out with one hand and cups her face again, his face dropping to hers his eyes focusing on her eyes and then dropping to her lips. "I'm suggesting that we give this a try after all," and with that he dips his head, claiming her lips with his own in a sweetly shy kiss. Shenner can be heard to draw in a sharp gasp of breath, before the kiss makes it choke off in her throat. But she doesn't shove you away, nor does she shy back -- probably because absolute shock keeps her rigid as you brush your mouth across hers. At least for two seconds. On the third, she begins to tremble violently, even as she responds to the kiss. Paul reaches with his left hand to rest it against Shenner's trembling frame, stroking her soothingly as his right hand tilts her head gently and he deepens the kiss, testing and tempting her lips with his own. Still, in comparison to their previous kiss, this one is very restrained and tender. Continuing to tremble, Shenner is kissed, and at least for a few moments, you can feel her awkwardly try to respond... but she pulls back from you, anguish and longing taking turns jumping into view through the tears in her eyes. "Why..." And she swallows hard, though it doesn't keep her voice from emerging in a tiny croak. "Why're you doin' this? Did... did I-I suddenly turn eighteen when I wasn't lookin', or somethin'?" Paul feels her yank out of his grasp and lets her go reluctantly. He watches her struggle with the paradox in front of her and feels another stab of shame rush through him and he realizes that he's been treating her emotions like a yo-yo lately. But no more, he decides then and there, I've made a decision and I'm going to stick with it. Taking both of her hands in his again, Paul stares down at the poor bandaged things and sighs, cupping them both easily between his two hands. "Shh-hh, Shen it's alright," he tries to soothe her. "Nothing about you has changed ... it's me that's different." _Now_, only now, is the girl allowing herself to look at you, and her features are incredulous, bemused, and more than a little worried. "Wh-what happened to not wantin' to hurt me 'cause I probably have" -- her nose wrinkles, and her voice hoarsens slightly -- "a crush?" Paul's gaze remains focused on the seemingly fragile hands in front of him, but he also remembers that they had managed to deck him not once, not twice, but three times. "Well, we never finished that conversation," he rumbles softly, "and like I said before, maybe you have a crush and maybe you don't ... and we won't know unless we explore this relationship ... and for your first question, well, I think the damage has already been done, don't you?" "You weren't... gonna ask me before about... bein'... with you, though," the girl presses, uneasily, her voice small. Then, uncertainly, "Were yah?" Paul's head remains bowed, his expression hidden by the hair fallen over his brow. His mind races for an answer, panic rising in him as the possible consequences of this actions here start flooding his mind. Still, a decision has been made, and damnit if he wasn't going to be consistent for a change. "I already invited you, remember?" he replies, recalling a conversation that they had on the Black Dragon ... the recall of that almost makes him laugh, as he thought things had been complicated -then-." Shenner says awkwardly, after a pause in which she might have just swallowed hard -- you can't tell without looking at her -- "That was before I-I kinda got carried away...." Her voice, even smaller now, has lost none of its incredulity, but ever so slightly is beginning to lose its worry. "My feelings about you haven't changed since then," he notes, "just my priorities." Then there is a pause and he continues, "Look Shen, if you don't want this, then just tell me I'm wrong," he replies in a raspy voice. "Tell me that you don't have a broken heart, that you don't want to go with me, that I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, and I'll leave you alone." "I...." She trails off, barely able to breathe. That brief little word comes out of her even more husky, and you can sense her hands shaking even with the bandages over them. Paul holds the hands and feels his own frame beginning to shake slightly as his fears begin to rush over him, realizations taking side swipes along the way. 'What am I doing?' he begins to panic. 'What if this doesn't work? Isn't this exactly what you set out in the first place -not- to do?' He bites his lip to keep from speaking his mind and waits instead for Shen to finish her sentence, his hands holding her trembling hands and adding a little of their own. Shenner does not, however, speak. One of her hands lifts out of your hold, and gingerly touches your face -- not exactly a deft touch, not with gauze wrapped about her digits, but it's still light and tentative, as if she doesn't believe you're really there and has to touch you to be sure. The artless touch brings out a sharp burst of tenderness through all of the massing confusion and Paul lifts a hand to hers, holding it against his face in much the same way as he had with Jessalyn mere minutes before. His eyes raise to meet hers tentatively. "I can't make you any promises that it's all going to work out perfectly, we'll just have to see how it goes, alright?" he whispers nervously. Shenner's face still holds a measure of pain and tenseness, as though she can't quite manage yet to relax. But her eyes have begun to lighten, and something that might be a proto-smile flickers at one end of her mouth. She still stares at you in an alarmed kind of wonder, though, and as you speak, she bobs her head, once, slo wly. Shen's change of face seems to be the signal that Paul was waiting for, a thrill of relief rushing through his system as he accomplishes his first goal - to stop the heartache from tearing up the girl any more. He raises a tentative hand to her face in return, his feathering touch shaking slightly. "Okay," his voice rumbles richly, "just take it easy with me, huh? You know what a push-over I am," he tries to tease her, but his eyes are hot and serious. Shenner issues a choked little giggle, her eyes still round, and never wavering from your face. Paul lets his hand trace over Shenner's features, comparing the difference between all the other women he's touched this way. The largest difference is the edgy feeling that he is experiencing - nervousness, and now that he lets himself admit it, attraction. With Jessalyn, that attraction was easy, comfortable. With Shen that attraction is sharp and dangerous, but the exact reasons why are not definable at the moment. He tries to relax and just trust in the experiment and the experience. Shenner yet trembles, reaction to the abrupt 180-degree spin the situation has taken setting in, and setting in hard. She swallows again as you brush your hand along her face, then quite abruptly flings herself at your chest and hugs you fiercely, saying nothing, just shaking. Paul tips back slightly at Shen's unexpected rush. He just sits for a moment, astonished and uncertain. Another flare of panic rises in him at the intensity of her need for him, and a countering surge of honor at doing the right thing heads it off. As the two battle within him, he contents himself with wrapping the trembling girl's form in his arms, his hands stroking her back in broad soothing passes. Evidently, though, that simple embrace is what Shenner needs. She buries her face against your shoulder, and quivers hard, the tightened muscles of her back twitching at the contact of your hands, but almost immediately, she begins to calm. Paul sighs deeply, releasing as much tension from his frame in that breath as he can. He continues to gently stroke Shen's back, soothing her as much as possible and then draws her gently to him, pulling her into his lap so that she is more comfortable and easier to hold onto. He releases another deep breath, as if he has to keep reminding himself to take in oxygen. The girl leans against you, her shudders slowing, as she struggles to ease her own breathing. "You mean it," she mumbles into the side of your neck, sounding slightly dizzy all a sudden, as if knocked for a loop by your sudden change of heart. "You mean it...." Paul suddenly feels like a liar as he cradles Shen in his arms. Her enthusiasm, her words, seem to him to be more like she was saying, "You love me, you love me." He shudders in reaction, as her lips brush against his neck with those words, and he closes his eyes tightly and holds onto her as if she had become an anchor to cling to. For the first time in his memory, Paul wishes that there was a god that he believed in ... so that he could pray for guidance.
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