Editing Rubicon

<br> 
<span style="color:#800000">''' ''(Many thanks to my partner in crime, without whom this would never see the light of day. Thanks, Jay!--Maer)'' '''</span>
<br><br><br>
'''Wednesday, 27 Dec 2519'''<br>
'''Kuiper II Class, Summer’s Gift'''<br>
'''En route to Boros'''<br>
'''Blue Sun (Qing Long) system'''<br>
'''21:00 hrs, ship’s time'''
<br><br><br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Four months. It has been four months since Rina began therapy in Christian's care. Since that first day there has been change. Gradual change, to be sure, but change. Each week another step was taken. Jasmine incense, for example, has been burning ever since the week after Rina's hospital stay. Some say the scent promotes healthy sexuality and enhances libido. By the second week, sound became part of the equation. At first, the sounds were calming and natural. Waterfalls and bells and bird calls. Over time, however, music began playing beneath the sounds. Soft and sensual, the music grew and overtook the sounds until the waterfalls and gentle bells and bird calls vanished altogether. By the fifth week, Rina came into the suite to find the lights dimmed. Never so much that she couldn't see clearly, but enough to set a mood. As time went on, Christian's clothing changed as well. At first, he worked in jeans and a t-shirt. Casual. Over time, things changed. The clothes became more decorative, tantalizing and teasing. Perhaps today is a culmination of that gradual process. When Rina climbs up into Christian's shuttle during the trip to Boros, she finds the lights dimmed, the scent of Jasmine lightly perfuming the air, the music a slow, soft jazz piece, and Christian dressed in simple a short kimono of green silk. Tied loosely, the kimono covers only his shoulders and back and the area between his stomach and his thighs. His legs are smooth. His hair loose around his shoulders but adorned with one short braid of green tucked behind his ears. His lips aren't a different color but their shine indicates gloss. His eyes are outlined in black and the lids painted in green to bring out the beauty of them. He smells fresh and clean, despite the obvious time and effort his appearance demanded.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I stopped on the threshold, surprised. Christian had been altering the dress and the setting of our visits over the intervening weeks, gradually sliding toward the provacative, but even so what I saw made me falter. I'd seen him in short kimonos before--hell, less: his boxers. But the combination of sensuous material, cosmetics, lighting and music packed a solid wallop right in my gut...and lower.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''That's a lot of leg he's got.''<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I shut my mouth with effort and took a steadying breath. ''You'd asked for this. You called the tune. It's time to pay the fiddler.''<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Laundry day?" I asked and stepped all the way inside. I closed the door and briefly debated locking it, then did so. Nothing different from all the other visits I'd made here. Just business as usual. <br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Christian smiles. There's a faint pencil line around his lips, just enough to accentuate how beautiful and kissable his lips are. "We have five people on this boat. I do laundry every day. You know that." The massage chair sits in the center of the room, exactly as it has been since the first visit. What's different, however, is the tea set. The one Rina gifted to Christian. It sits on a low table, hot steam escaping from the spout.<br><br>

&nbsp;***


&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Knowing I stood rooted to the deck like an idiot, I made myself move, approaching that chair like the gallows.  Christian had a few floor pillows at the table and I detoured to one of them, sitting down and leaning over the teapot to inhale the fragrance. <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Peach Mango.  My favorite.  Figures.''<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I sighed. There was no way for me to face this but head-on and I prayed that I wouldn’t botch this too badly.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“What’s going on?”<br><br> 

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"The tea ceremony," Christian says as he settles into the lotus position on the opposite side of the table. He takes a brief moment to shift his kimono to maintain modesty, "is a ritual." His hand wraps around the handle of the pot. Slowly, with movements made graceful by years of practice, he pours a single cup. The pot settles back in place. He picks up the cup, cradling it in both hands. Christian draws the cup to his lips. He takes a single swallow, then kisses the rim. The tea cup turns around until the spot he kissed faces Rina. Christian holds the cup out to her.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I took that cup and sipped, tasting the gloss on my tongue.  I sipped again to wash it down.  The porcelain was eggshell thin, feather-light and delicate.  I looked at Christian over the rim, taking in the details.  Hair coiffed, face made-up and if I figured right, he’d probably cleansed, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of his body he could get to.  Which thought gave my groin another nasty knock and I put the cup down gently, and gathered my thoughts.  There was something I needed to verify first.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Doesn’t the tea ceremony open a session with a client?”<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I've been walking a fine line," Christian admits. "There are rules in the Guild. Guides to prevent our services being given away and losing their value. When we go further, you become a client. I've already added you to the Registry. I have the prerogative to wave the fee for that, but I can't wave the cost of the session. I'm happy to help with it, though."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''‘When’.  Not ‘if’.''  Christian had thought ahead to the day he’d take me to bed, and had taken the appropriate steps for it.  Even as the fact sank in, my head latched onto another.<br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Who has access to that Registry?”<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Christian takes the cup and repeats the procedure. He sips and turns the cup, then offers it to Rina once more. "Only Companions." He explains. Reassures. "None of whom would ever reveal the name of a client without their permission and, certainly, not the name of another Companion's client."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I took the cup and sipped in turn, dodging the gloss, and considered what he said.  Companions were both public and private, available to anyone but exclusive in their clientele.  Their appointments were a matter of record, the record guarded by confidentiality and backed by what was inarguably the most powerful guild in the Verse. No one would know I was here, sitting on his floor pillow, sucking down his tea, taking up his time.  No one I didn’t want to find me, at least.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There was more, however.  Money, sex, power—it’s a trifecta found everywhere.  In politics, in business, in marriages.  Even between two people sipping tea. <br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Did I want to get involved in that? <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When I’d put the question to Christian upon waking up in the hospital, I hadn’t thought of the wider ramifications of his Companion status.  I’d seen only a friend and a fellow crewmate with a certain set of skills I needed to overcome a personal block.  Callous of me, perhaps, but I had hoped over the intervening weeks that Christian had derived genuine pleasure from our visits, keeping what we did as something between friends.  The introduction of money into the equation changed everything.  To go further without payment would reduce him to a common whore cheated of her fee.  Christian was a professional, a Registered Companion, and deserved recompense for his years of training and sacrifice for his Art. As a friend and crewmate, he deserved more than payment, he deserved respect.  No matter what happened tonight, I wouldn’t leave him holding the bag. <br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Fine.” I said, passing him the cup.  “As for the rest of it, we’ll work out a schedule and take it out of my shares when the crew gets paid.  Fair’s fair.”<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which left only the actual bedding to get through. <br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Leave'', the craven side of me whispered.  ''You’ve only had tea.  You could probably pay for it out of pocket and get out of here without further….involvement.''<br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was tempting, God, so tempting.  But no.  The whole point of the exercise was getting me to this point, and going through it.  I would never discover what I needed to know if I left now.  The mango of the tea mingled with the jasmine in the air, the soft light enhanced the soft music.  Everything was soothing, gentle and perfect and in a flash, ''grating''. <br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Time for a dose of reality.''<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Do me a favor.  Turn up the lights, turn off the music, and for God’s sake, take that crap off your face?  I like ''men''.  Not dolls.”  I bit my lip, regretting how it sounded.  “Please?”<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I like to wear makeup and look pretty." Christian says as he rises to his feet, "It makes me feel good. This isn't all about you, Rina. That's part of the problem, too." He walks over to the control panel on the wall by the door and presses a button. The music dies. He pushes up a slider and the lights rise to full illumination. "Your problem with men has you very focused on you when you're in their presence. How they make you feel. How they make you fear. Mike is an exception, of course, but your aversion hampers your empathy and desire to understand and accept how they feel."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“All right.  Point taken.”  I stood, refusing to give up without a fight.  “Tell me something.  You’ve washed your clients.  Have any of your clients washed you?  I promise I’ll be gentle. Just, please, at least let me get that gloss off you. If I wanted to get all greasy, I’d’ve humped the engine before coming over.”<br><br>

&nbsp;***  

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Christian tilts his head and considers Rina for a moment. He taps a finger to his glossed lips and then breaks out into a smile. "You've made so much progress." He points to the stand next to the bed. The one with a built in cabinet. "Inside there's a basin of warm water, some soap, and a cloth." He settles back down at the table. "You can wash me if you want to. I'd enjoy that. Thank you."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I did as he instructed, not allowing myself to dwell overmuch as to why he’d had the items prepared and waiting in proximity to the bed.  Mind, the shuttle wasn’t that spacious so everything was close to hand, but still.  I turned around with the basin, soap and cloth and looked at him, brows raised in that classic expression: ''where to?''  If I was going to badger the man to clean up, the least I could do was let him pick the spot.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In fact, Christian has settled himself beside the low table, resting comfortably on his knees. As Rina retrieves the basin, his fingers are hard at work, deftly removing the braid from his hair. The strand remains green, but the decorative twist vanishes.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Relieved at his choice of venue, I joined him on the floor and got the washcloth soaking.  I wrung it out and barely blessed it with the soap.  ''Not too much.  There isn’t a soap made that actually tastes good, no matter how it gets in your mouth.''  I waited til he was done with his hair before getting closer, glad the ribbon was gone—it spared me asking him to take it out, though the possibility of combing his hair smooth did have a sensuous appeal.  Mike kept his habitually short.  Christian’s was longer, practically a mane, and given his penchant for the voluptuous I knew running my fingers through it would be pleasant.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I didn’t think too deeply on that as I wrapped the cloth around my fingers and put it gently to his forehead. <br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Start at the top.  Work your way down.  Stroke, don’t grind.''<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He only used enough foundation to avoid looking pale when the rest of the makeup was applied. Enough blush to accentuate his cheeks. His eyes are where the majority of the makeup was applied, though even then it isn't anything approaching glamrock in style. Christian closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. His body sags ever so slightly into a pose of relaxation. His hands fall to his lap. It is the sort of letting down of the guard that can only occur with total trust.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The cloth came away stained and it took several passes with it before I got the cosmetics off him.  His lips I saved for last, tracing the line the pencil made, daubing and wiping as lightly as would still get the job done.  I finished by stroking the curve of his chin.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“There.”  I tapped his nose like a five-year-old getting washed by his mother.  What could I say?  That perfect nose just taunted me to do it.  “Done.”<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There's nothing insincere or false about Christian's answering grin. Clear of makeup, of course, he's still pretty. Just in a more natural fashion. "Do you feel better now?" Rather than let her answer, however, he leans forward. The kiss is quick and light, a butterfly darting in and then escaping. His lips, still wet from her washing, leave a hint of moisture on her own.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He was too fast.  I had no warning.  His kiss galvanized, paralyzing me in place even as my head turned off and my insides began to jump.  I sucked in a breath, and then another, and my brain got to working again.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Um...Yes."<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The edge of the low table was digging into my side as I leaned back, and I straightened, determined not to give the wrong impression.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Close your eyes." Christian says, his voice taking on a very different tone. This isn't the voice he's used in front of the rest of the crew before. This voice whispers both words and promises, hints of silk sheets and sweat and animal growling in the night.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And there it was. Now or never.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''I can always take a step back,'' I'd said to Harry once. ''I trust Christian to give me the space to do that.''<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But to take that step back I first had to go forward. Pulse pounding in my neck, my skin aching to be touched, I swallowed and did as he asked.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"When people think of erogenous zones," Christian's voice whispers, "they think about breasts and genitals. The neck maybe." He very gently places one hand underneath Rina's elbow. The other under the back of her wrist. Christian raises her arm and presses a single kiss to the palm of her hand. "They forget, the entire body can be." Another kiss, this time at the pulse point of her wrist. Soft but slow, his mouth open. Not suckling. Not licking, but when he draws away there's enough moisture left behind that the breeze of the air conditioning will bring a moment of chill.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Practically vibrating now from the nerves and, I'll admit it, pleasure, I managed to unglue my tongue and say, "God, Christian, if this is foreplay, I'm a dead man."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His mouth hovers so close to her wrist, Rina can feel Christian's breath upon her skin. "We've been engaged in foreplay for months now, Rina." He murmurs before he moves again, this time to the inside of the elbow. He takes his time here, his mouth open, his tongue tasting and teasing, before he draws back, teeth tugging lightly at the flesh there before it escapes altogether.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I couldn't breathe.  I felt his lips, his tongue, his teeth and my lungs simply shut down.  I shook from it, I worked my jaw, but I couldn't breathe. <br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His mouth draws away, his breath audible but no longer something that could be felt. Languidly, he guides her hand upward, turning the wrist, flipping the position from palm up to palm down. Rina feels his soft lips kiss the tip of her thumb. A simple kiss. "This is me, Rina." He says, his voice calm and timeless, like the sort of brook that runs behind the houses people grow up in. Her index finger tip learns the touch of his kiss. "We've lived together." Her middle finger. "We've fought together." Ring finger. "Shared meals. Laughter. Tears." No kiss is delivered to the pinky. Instead, the tip of his tongue presses to the very base of the finger, where it meets the calloused flesh of her engineer's hands. He slides his tongue forward, wet with his saliva, to the very tip before he engulfs it completely, the entire finger in his mouth. He draws backward, releasing it from his lips, back into the air, centimeter by centimeter. When, finally, it is free, he whispers. "I will never hurt you."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''I will never hurt you'', he said.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Good. That makes at least one of us."<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I took my hand back and sank it into his hair, claimed his face with my other hand and kissed him. I pushed off the floor and felt his arms grab me before we both fell over, even as I kissed him again, running my tongue along the path the washcloth had taken, the warmth of his flesh taking the edge off the chill I felt inside.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Even glaciers melt'', I'd said to Harry. Either they trickle to nothing or they calve.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Explosively.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Christian had planned for this. He planned to tease Rina for days until she was so frustrated, she would become the aggressor. With the timetable stepped up, the time has come for Christian to step up. He sinks down, falling to his back on the soft carpet, under the strong body of his crewmate. His friend. His client. The kiss becomes hungry and passionate. He doesn't need to feign attraction or desire or sexual ardor. The kisses grow powerful, long and wet and hot. Eventually, though, it has to end. He twists and pushes, forcing Rina onto her back. "My shuttle." He says with a smile. "I get to be on top the first time. Next time, we can go down to the engine room and I'll happily lie on my back for you.... or against the wall... or the door...."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'd cut loose on Christian to keep my nerve from failing, plowing head on without a thought of pain or injury, death or dying.  It was how I faced danger--full speed ahead.  And right now, I was up past my neck in dangerous and as his mouth opened to me, I didn't give a good Goddamn if I drowned in it.  His silk kimono lingered under my palms long enough for me to get a grip on it and pull it aside and I let my mouth roam over the skin I'd exposed, breathing in the scent of him, relishing the warmth on my lips, vaguely aware that his hands were busy pulling my shirt free.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His mouth found mine and the kiss he gave me was deep, probing, rousing and I growled and fought to surpass it.  It had been over a year since I'd last done this and like an old familiar pain, it had simply stopped registering...until something came along to give a good sharp whack.  That's when you'd do anything to put it to rights again.  When he turned the tables and put me on my back, I didn't resist.  I'd already made up my mind--what still remained of it--and wanted the release I knew he'd give me.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Don't jump the gun, Christian.  We'll deal with the engine room later.  Take care of what's in front of you first.  "<br><br>

&nbsp;***<br>
&nbsp;***<br>
&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There are times when words are the most powerful medicine. Times when sex is the most powerful medicine. Right now, there's no better medicine then just being near a warm body you care about and listening to their heartbeat. To their breathing. Christian smiles and holds Rina, both of them exhausted but he, thanks to training, recovering perhaps a tad faster.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The lassitude from lovemaking had me in its grip and I resisted giving in to it. It always amused Mike that I'd usually drift off first, against stereotype, and I'd come to with his hands running through my hair and a wry grin on his lips. Lifting my head from Christian's chest, I saw his smile, small and contented and pleased, his eyes closed. ''Satisfied male'', his expression said, and I paused, unsure of what to make of that. I closed my eyes and lay still, listening to the atmo hissing through the vents, the beat of Christian's heart, the soft sound of his breathing.<br>  
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'd known Mike now for ten years, and in all that time, he'd been the only one I'd trusted with my body and my heart. For ten years, I'd been celibate when Mike was absent and for a decade, I'd been perfectly fine with that arrangement.  I’d never crossed the line of infidelity and yet, here I was.<br> 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where did that put Christian? What did that make me? How could I  justify what we'd just done?  Had I betrayed Mike?  Ruined everything?  I asked the Universe the question and waited for it to respond.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''No,'' it said, and I nearly wept from it.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Mike still held my heart, I was still committed to him. I knew now that I had been and always will be.  Not from fear of other men or sex or the uncertain future, but because for whatever reason, I’d chosen him and he'd chosen me and the Universe or Karma or God made it so. Sleeping once with Christian wouldn't change that, nor would sleeping with him in every compartment on the ship. I wasn't committed to Christian by having sex with him any more than giving him that tea set made me engaged to him.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'd asked the question, risked discovering it, and received my answer.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"You understand, now." Christian murmurs. "The universe didn't collapse and the next time you see Mike, you two will still be in love." Even with his eyes closed, he could feel it. The tension that built, little by little as Rina lay atop him. The sudden release of that tension, as if a truth had been revealed.<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I suppressed a snort, even as I appreciated the wisdom of his comment.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Are you always this annoyingly omniscient after fucking your clients blind?"<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Christian opens one eye. With a hand, he waves it in front of Rina's eyes. "Blind? Really? Because that's something I can cross off my list of accomplishments on the Companion scavenger hunt."<br><br>

&nbsp;***

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I laughed, deep and throaty and content.<br>
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Some things, Christian, you don't need your eyes for." And closing mine, I pulled him to me and proved just that.
<br><br>

&nbsp;***
<br>


<span style="color:#800000">'''''It takes two to tango and let me go on record here, Jay really knows how to dance! See more of his work using the links below.'''''</span><br>

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