Djinn & Tonic

Djinn & Tonic

Steve sat back in the chair, groaning. His eyes were smarting from the hours of painstakingly removing layers of stone from artifacts from that Indian exhibit. Buried for centuries in the sands, and soon Steve felt the same way.

"Okay... one more, then that's IT for the night."

He picked up an old object, then took a close look. It was an old taper-lamp, Early China... no, it was Indian. The curlicues were Old Arabic.

He began to dust it off, tapping it, listening...then saw the lead plug.

"Damn... might actually have some ancient air in there!"

He picked up one of the Bunsen burners and put it to the plug. As he heated it, he picked up a eye-screw, patiently screwing it into the plug.

He waited, then began to pull. Nothing.

He pulled harder, and the softened plug began to draw out of the spout.

"Just a little bit more..."

With a loud pop, it came free of the lamp.

Slowly, a thin stream of vapor came out of the lamp.

As the vapor escaped it became denser and moved away from him settling on to the desk next to Steve.

"At last I am free of that lamp!" the being exclaimed as it stretched and took a deep breath.

Steve stumbled out of the chair, dropped hard to the ground, and backed away on his rear, his face still wearing the same look of disbelief.

As he had watched, the vapor had coalesced into a slim young Arabian woman, with dark black hair that pooled along one shoulder like a waterfall of midnight. Almond eyes looked out at him from under a band decorated with diamonds and rubies, which also ornately covered the half-robe she wore. Her feet were clad in satin slippers.

His mouth said foolish things for about 15 seconds before his brain told him to SHUT UP and his mouth snapped closed. He was still staring.

Slowly, she looked around at the strange surroundings which she found herself in.

"Where is this? This isn't any place I've been before," she murmured in a small, quiet voice.

Then she saw him sitting on the floor, the lamp still clutched in one hand, a look of disbelief still on his face.

"You are the one who released me? What strong powers you must have," she said as she slipped off the desk and started towards him.

He moved deceptively fast for such a large, well-muscled young man, as he slipped behind a sofa. She did not know if he was a magician, for they were old and thin, nothing like this young man standing before her. Thick red hair framed a rather pale face, but handsome nonetheless.

He took a deep breath, then gasped, "Who are you?? How did you do that?"

"What? You mean come out of the lamp?" she asked in a puzzled voice.

"Yeah! How did you DO that?"

He took a deep breath, then said quietly, "Who are you?"

"I am Tamira. Daughter of Djinni of the Lords of India. I was put in the bottle by an evil caliph as a punishment. He sealed me in there. When you opened the bottle you broke his spell. Your magic MUST be stronger than his."

Slowly, she knelt in front of him.

"What shall I call you, Master?" she said in a respectful voice, her head bowed, her hands resting on her knees.

After a few seconds, he said, "Well, you can call me Steve."

After another second, he said, uncomfortably, "Uh, you can get up now, Tamira..."

Listening to his voice, she could tell that he was very nervous, a curious thing for someone as powerful as he must be.

At his words, she slowly raised her head and look at him. Still puzzled by his apparent nervousness, she slowly rose to my feet and moved gracefully towards him.

"As you command, Master Steve. Can you tell me where this place is? I have never seen anywhere that looks like this."

Steve's mind was racing at the knowledge that this hit him, almost like a repeating hammer.

"Well, Tamira, you're in Phoenix, Arizona, at the Institute of Antiquities."

He opened a windowshade, and she looked out at the twinkling lights of the high-rise buildings to the west of them.

Her eyes widened at the sights she saw through the window. "Never before have I seen such a sight." Turning to him, in a hushed voice, she queried, "How do they...make all those lamps stay lit? And in such a random order?"

They're powered by electricity." He flicked on the overhead light, and the room was suddenly changed from twilight to noonday intensity. "A rather unique power source."

At the sudden light, she jumped back.

"Aieee...!" she exclaimed. She thought quickly, He must be VERY powerful to be able to bring the noonday sun into this darkened room. I must be careful not to anger him!

With eyes half closed, she turn back to him. "You must be very powerful, Master. Not even the evil caliph that imprisoned me could do this."

Steve noticed she was shaking slightly and moved closer to her, holding her reassuringly. "Hey, it won't hurt you if you know how to treat it with care. And...well, I'm not as powerful as you think..."

It had been so long since she had been held as he was holding her. Slowly, her trembling stopped. She could hear his heartbeat underneath her ear. The faint rustling as he breathed stirred her hair.

"I will be alright, Master. It is just so sudden to be thrust into some place you never knew was there."

"Well, I'll help you through it. Well, if you came from Arabia, Phoenix is not that much of a change in climate." His voice was soft, reassuring, as well as the touch of his hands over hers.

Steve swallowed lightly, suddenly very thirsty. "I'm going to get something to drink. Anything you'd like, Tamira?"

She looked at him with questing eyes. Slowly and carefully, she said in a soft voice, "If you will tell me what it is you would like to drink, Master, then I shall get it for you."

"Well, I was thinking about a nice tall glass of apple juice," he said in quiet consternation, "but I'm not sure you could find it in there." He pointed to the kitchen, where the refrigerator stood silently. Pasted on the front was, "Maps Available."

She looked in the direction he was pointing. A small smile played around her lips. "I won't have any problems, Master."

With a small nod, a tall, chilled glass of apple juice appeared on the table beside Steve. "Is this what you want, Master?"

His eyes frogged as the glass appeared. He stepped towards it carefully, then picked the glass up gingerly. He sipped it, and then turned to her. "How did you do that?"

"Why Master, that is what I do... I am a Djinni, it is my talent. To grant my Master's wishes. Anything that you wish, I can get you."

"That's... a little hard to believe." He looked at her with a half-skeptical eye. "If you can do that, get me the Mona Lisa." he said, half-jokingly.

"If you are sure that that is what you want, Master. But first, please tell me... what is this ah... 'Mona Lisa'?"

A warning bell went off in his head, but he didn't hear it.

"It's a priceless painting that hangs in the Louvre in Paris."

"A painting? Alright... if that is as you wish," she said with a smile. With a wave of her hand, and a flash of smoke, the painting appeared on the wall.

Turning to him, she said in a small voice, "Is this the painting?"

He looked at the painting, his mouth dropping.

This was the real McCoy... but if it WAS...

He picked up the phone, calling his professor. "Dr. Peters? Tell me, do you have that friend in Paris, who works at the Louvre? Yeah... ask him to... to... what? What's not there?"

Then the color drained out of his face. He hung up, then turned to Tamira.

"YOU STOLE THE MONA LISA!" he cried.

She looked at him, wondering why he didn't understand that she couldn't create things simply out of nothing?

"But this IS the painting you wanted, right? Do you want me to return it?" she asked in a very puzzled voice.

He looked up at her quickly, nodding. "Yeah. Take it back. Take it back NOW!"

Slowly shaking her head at what appeared to be indecision, she waved her hand once more. The picture vanished in a puff of smoke.

Turning once more to him, "Is it alright now? Is there anything else that I can get you?"

He began to open his mouth, then shut it with his hand.

When he opened his mouth again, he said in a whisper, "I have to be very...VERY... careful about what I wish for. I might just get it."

She waited for the inevitable look of greed-lust that would arise when they usually found out how much power they wielded. But the only look she could see on him was uneasiness.

He looked rather uncomfortable.

Looking at her again, he said, "Uh... no. Nothing I... want. Um..." He looked at her, then said, "How many... wishes... do I get? I read somewhere about three being the default number..."

A tinkling laugh escaped her lips. "I do not know whose fault you could possibly think it would be. The wishes could be unlimited, but it depends on the type of wishes you ask for. I cannot do anything that goes against my beliefs, but there is little that I will not do."

"I see..." He swallowed. "I think that will be enough wishing tonight. Uh, do you stay in that lamp when I don't need you...?" he asked curiously.

At the thought of going back into the lamp, a shudder passed along her spine. "If that is where you wish me to be Master, then I shall return to it." A small sigh escaped. "But I would rather not... I have been in that lamp for many, many centuries."

At her look, he said hastily, "Hey, I'm not telling you to go back in. Stay out if you want. I was just wondering what you wanted to do..."

Still, he does not understand, went through her mind. With an impatient sigh, she said, "But Master, it is not what I want... It IS what YOU want me to do, that I have to do. You released me from the lamp, therefore, you are my Master, and I have to do what you command me to do whether I want to or not."

He shook his head slightly. "Okay... well, maybe some more modern clothing would suit you. If you took a walk out on the street, someone might assume you were... for rent..."

A puzzled look appeared on her face. "For rent? I do not understand this. What kind of clothing are you talking about?"

He pointed through the window, at the people milling six stories below them.

As she looked down, he thought some more and grabbed a book of modern history. He paged to modern-day times, groaning silently when all that was shown was a couple of catwalk models. It will have to do. He moved up close behind her, momentarily captivated by her thick fall of black hair, then whispered, "Something like this..." showing her the models.

Looking at the pictures, she shook her head. "You mean that I must wear all those clothes? Why?"

"Someone might consider you a hooker."

She gave him a blank look.

"A prostitute?"

Still nothing.

"Um... courtesan? Temporary concubine?"

A light dawned. "A concubine... me? I don't think so..." At this suggestion, her face darkened with anger. "I am NOT anyone's concubine!" she stated in an aggravated voice.

At her announcement, he drew back slightly. "Well..." he continued, "if you wore something like this in public..." he said, touching the jewels on her robe. "Well, it's kinda flashy..." he finished lamely.

Shaking her head, "I don't understand this. These jewels were given to me by my father. They are a mark of my status, my worthiness as a Djinni. Why would someone think of me as a 'concubine'? And why do you wear so many clothes?"

"Well... oh, the hell with it. Never mind. I just hope we can get down to the bike without any trouble. If we can get back to my house, we can continue this conversation in relative privacy."

"Master, I can take us to your house. If you will tell me where it is, then I can transport us there." She stood with both feet slightly apart, a smile on her lips as she brought her hands together in front of her face. "All you have to do is ask."

"I'll settle for getting us to the parking garage quietly."

She nods, an impish grin on her face.

Before he could take another breath, she brought up two fingers. In the next instant, they were standing in the parking garage near one of the exits.

He said something like "Gleep!"

Then he grabbed onto his motorcycle and calmed himself. He looked down at the large Harley-Davidson, and groaned. "I better get you a helmet."

He pulled one out of the side panel, and tried to get it around the scarf-like covering on her head.

"This isn't working. Maybe if you tried wearing a jumpsuit..."

"A jumpsuit?" She pondered for a moment. "Do you mean a one piece outfit?"

"Yeah, something like that..." he said, with a light frown.

Shaking her head at the silliness of one covering up their body completely, she nodded her head. Instantly, a deep blue jumpsuit replaced the harem-like clothing that she had on.

"Is this better, Master?"

"I have got to get used to that. Yes, that seems best." He put the helmet on her head, leaving the long fall of hair hanging out the back. Then he mounted the bike, and motioned for her to get on as well.

As she did, she suddenly felt the throb of the motor under her as the cycle rumbled to life. She jumped, startled at the sound and the feel of the motor. By instinct, she grasped Steve around the waist, pressing her face into his back.

"Easy, it won't bite you."

He pulled into traffic, feeling her hold on tightly.

In her ears, she suddenly heard, "I can talk to you through the helmet. This isn't what you'd think it would be."

She looked around, and could see the lights and sounds of Phoenix around her as he drove through downtown. She was amazed at the things around her. Smells of food were mingled with the slightly pungent smell of traffic exhaust, but it wasn't as bad as some of the animals she had last crossed. A feeling of amazement and also disbelief coursed through her.

"What place is this? I have never seen such sights." She could feel the throb of the cycle sending its vibrations throughout her body. "How long will we be on this thing?"

"We'll be home in about 5 minutes. It's on the hill, next to the estates." At a traffic light, he pointed to his house, barely visible in the twilight. "Right over there. May have to suffer a little traffic, but it won't take too long."

"Indeed," she murmured, then tightened her arms once more as he sped around the corner.

After a few more minutes on the winding road, Steve pulled up next to an old white house, turning off the engine and ceasing the odd pulsing throb between Tamira's body and helped her off the bike.

"What was the last animal you rode, Tamira?" he asked with a slight smile that slightly faltered as her odd half-robe reappeared.

"The last animal I rode...? Well, that would have been a camel. One of my Uncle Maeir's camels," she replied absentmindedly as she looked around at her surroundings.

Steve led her out of the slightly dingy garage, into a simply-furnished den. "I inherited this house from my father, and from his father, a prospector. It's a very old house."

Looking around curiously, she could see that it has been well lived in. There was an aura of comfort, and also one of retreat (as if one could come here and not worry about things outside.)

"You say, for many years?"

"Yeah... uh, the maid hasn't come here in some time," he says absently, picking up a shirt off the couch and tossing it in a large wicker hamper in a nearby closet. "I haven't spent much time here as of late, I've been traveling." He spun a large globe placed near the wall, the aged and stained wood still holding the black lettering of countries and cities and continents.

She watched him as he spun the globe, noticing the long nimble fingers on his hand. "Where do you travel to? Do you go to many different places? Countries? Or do you stay within this one?"

"Different places. I'm what is called an archaeologist. I study the past." He opened up a cabinet, where tools of the trade were scattered inside -- a mild acid bath, developer, digging tools, from spade and pick to toothbrush and shaving brush.

Intermingled with the tools were two weapons -- a .38 Special and a Thompson "Tommygun" submachine gun.

Tamira eagerly looked over his shoulder into the cabinet. The items inside were strange looking to her, at least most of them were. She did recognize some of the digging tools as they were similar to some that were used before she was encased in the lamp.

"Master, what are those two black things?" she asked. "I have never seen anything that looks like these," she said as she reached out to touch the two guns. She felt her hand gently grasped, pulled away from them.

"Those... are weapons. You see, I've been in some situations where the dangers of the present intrude in the study of the past." He gingerly picked up the pistol, showing it to her. "This is dangerous. So is the other one in there. I respectfully request you stay away from them. I never use them except when I'm in more trouble than they are worth." He placed the pistol back in the cabinet, closing it.

She nodded her head in understanding. "Yes, Master. I will not touch those 'weapons'." (The word was familiar, but she had some trouble thinking of those items as being equal to a good scimitar or crossbow.) Looking around, she slowly familarized herself with the layout of the room. "Master, do you want me to clean this room for you?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Well, I don't know if you know where... OH. THAT way. Hmmm... well, the whole house needs it, to tell the honest truth," he said slowly, carefully.

"I can take care of that, if it is what you wish." A small smile played around her lips at his hesitation.

He sighs, then replied, "Okay, as long as it isn't too flashy."

She nodded her head in understanding, then stood still, gathering her power and thoughts as to how to do this small thing for him. After a few moments, she grinned and then nodded her head three times.

Slowly, things started to move around. Books straightened themselves on the shelves, magazines formed a neat pile on the coffee table, clothes put themselves away, and dust began to disappear.

"Hey, that's pretty... whoa!" he yelped, ducking a squadron of shirts on their way to his closet. He hit the now dust-free couch in a sprawl, keeping his head down.

Giggling, she looked at the surprised and fascinated look on his face. "This is just a small thing, Master," she managed between giggles. "There is much more I could do if you only ask."

"Hmmm. That's a double-edged sword, you know. The easier things are to acquire, the less important or essential they become," he mused quietly. "I mean, a king's ransom isn't very impressive if I could get it every time I wished for it, right?"

She pondered what he had said. "I guess you are right. I have never thought of it in that way. No one before has cared about that side of things. All they have ever wanted was more and more and more."

He sat up, relaxing on the couch. "Funny how they weren't that demanding before they found you and realized how it easy it was to get what they want, or thought they needed... am I close?" he asked.

"This may be true. I have not thought of that. Always it has been, 'get me this, get me that,' never taking into consideration what others may think." She sounded puzzled at the ways of men.

"Sit down, you must be... uh, does doing that make you tired or something?" he asked with curiosity. "I mean, that's a lot of work by normal means..."

She looked quizzically at him. "Tired? Ah. Not really... it is more of a mental tiredness." She gracefully sat down beside him on the couch.

He smiled crookedly. "I guess I'm not the standard-issue 'master,' eh?" he asked, his hazel eyes sparkling slightly.

"No, you are not. You haven't demanded anything. In fact, you seem somewhat scared by my actions," she replied, her puzzlement increasing. Such discussions of her power were never held, or at least never in her presence. It was quite unfamiliar.

"Well, everything I ever got, I've had to work for. And I remember reading about djinni... something about twisting casual wishes, or taking thoughtless wishes to the letter. Suppose I wished for someone I didn't like to... well, to 'go to hell?'"

Frowning in confusion, she replied, "My demenses is the Dimension of Air. I know not of this Hell you are talking about. I am unable to send someone somewhere which I know nothing of."

"Well... Hell is supposed to be a place of eternal torment," he finished, and it was then she finally realized the implications of the seemingly casual wish and how viciously it could be twisted. As she understood, her eyes started to twinkle.

"No," she said with a grin, "You would have to specifically state that you want them sent there. I do not do anything on a whim, I try to do it the way that my father taught me. I have known of Djinni who are evil and would twist their Masters wishes around. Much of it depends on the Master. What the Master is like affects how 'we' interact with him or her."

"Oh... well, I'm still new to all this," he said, moving imperceptibly closer, then perceptibly, as she realized he was becoming more comfortable with her. "How... how old are you?" he asks impulsively.

Shaking her head slightly, thinking, It always is asked, she said with a grin, "Let me see... First, tell me what year this is."

"It's... 1993 AD, by the Gregorian calendar."

"Well... that would mean that I have been in the lamp for almost 3,000 years. And I was but a young child by Djinn standards at that time; I was but 150 years old at the time of my imprisonment."

Steve's eyes did that bulging thing again.

"You don't look a day over 1,000," he says, with an unsteady laugh.

A slow smile spread across her face at his compliment. "Thank you, Master. We age very, very slowly. My father is ancient by our standards and he is still young looking and very mobile."

Steve decided not to ask what Tamira considered ancient. His eyes hurt as it was. "Um...have there been any... intimate relationships... between Djinn and their Masters or Mistresses?" he asked, quietly.

A light blush colored her body at his question.

"Yes, there have been. Some advances have been unwelcome while others are..." Tamira's voice trailed off as she thought back to the past.

"I... see. I think." His hand moved across hers, and he said, "Well, maybe I better set a ground rule..."

With a slight shake of my head, she pulled her thoughts out of the past and back to the present time.

"And that is?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Well, I don't think you should have to do EVERYTHING I tell you. If I ever do something like make an advance that you find distasteful, you are not required to obey..." Steve offered, his eyes never leaving hers.

A slight nod acknowledged his words. "This I understand. And I thank you for your consideration, Master." Looking into his eyes, she felt as if he could see into her soul. A feeling of security enveloped her and she relaxed, forgetting the past (for the time being).

He did not seem to find anything that was repugnant to him in her, for she felt his fingers slowly moving in a light caress of her hand and wrist. "If I... well, if I did something like that, would you firmly rebuff me if you were not interested? Just don't turn me into a cockroach or something..."

"If I were to find your attentions unwanted, I would tell you. I would not do you any damage, at least not the first time (a devilish glint entered her eye). But it if were to be repeated, then I would not be accountable for my actions." Slowly, she turned her hand over so that their fingers were entertwined. She could feel his pulse beating rapidly, as rapidly as hers seemed to be at his touch. He drew closer on the couch, reaching up to touch her cheek lightly, her dark eyes dilating slightly at the contact.

"I... don't know if I should be doing this," he whispered, but his eyes never left hers.

The tip of her tongue moistened her suddenly dry lips. She could feel the awareness of him. Her body stirred to life, having been dormant for so long. "I am not afraid of you, nor do I reject you." she said softly as she turned her face into his caress.

As his fingers moved lightly down her cheek, she closed her eyes as she felt long-forgotten sensations arise in her, and then she felt his light kiss, centered on her lips, and her body reacted fiercely to his soft, caring touch. A deepening of the blush along her cheeks, the quickening of her breath are signals that his touch awakened her desires. She sighed as her lips opened beneath his, her body became pliable as she moved closer to him. His moves became more direct, his hands moving over the thin half-robe and her dark, exposed skin, her body trembling slightly as she felt him lightly pull him to her, her body above his as she felt his strong arousal. Her hands began to move along his body, searching and seeking to learn everything about him. Their breath intermingled as the kiss deepened. Low moans of passion escaped her lips as she laid against him, her body moving as if it had a mind of its own. As he kissed her cheek, then her neck, she could not contain a sudden groan of need as the licks of fire begin within her, the fire of pleasure finding ample fuel as her body became warmer, his kisses along her neck, raising the skin in small red circles, his hands moving along her half-covered legs, the filmy, diaphanous cloth providing little insulation against his too-warm hands.

Suddenly, the restriction of her robe was too much to bear. "Wait," she murmured against his lips. "Let me take this off... It has to come off!" As she sat up, her hands went to the bottom of the half-robe, grasping the edges, and slowly lifted it, watching his face as the robe revealed her body, inch by inch. As it rose past her hips, she could feel his arousal increase, growing hard against her extended leg. At the feel of his hardness, her body began to shudder as prickles of pleasure/anticipation danced through her, impatience warring with the prolonging of this sweet bliss. Slowly, she moved the robe higher, fighting to control her desire, to prolong his. Her body was moving in the age old dance of passion, swaying from side to side. She could feel his hardness throbbing against her, and it fired her passions, threatening to overcome her will. Small moans of desire escaped her lips as she lifted the silky robe up past her shoulders and over her head, tossing it across the back of the couch.

She paused for a few moments, staring at Steve with passion-filled eyes, before slowly lowering herself to place a hot kiss on his lips. The touch of her lips to his was the catalyst, as he came to life, pulling her body to his with strong, willful arms, the embrace pressing her stiff nipples to the cotton of his shirt, his kisses fierce and hot, covering her neck and lips, her hips moving of their own volition against his pelvis, teasing her with the thought of his trapped shaft underneath, so near, so close, but hidden away...

The feel of the material against her swollen and sensitive nipples, combined with his kisses drove her almost to the edge. Small moans of passion continued to escape her lips as she tried to remove his clothes.

"Please, help me," she moaned as she fumbled with the shirt. Her movements became clumsy as her passion mounted. His hands moved away slowly, but her body shifted to place his hands under the places in her back that intensified her pleasure. With a great wrenching cry of suppressed lust, her arms rise in a sudden motion, like an eagle spreading its wings, and his clothes disappeared, his suddenly-naked body now pressed against hers, the feeling of his body against hers driving her higher. Her hands moved rapidly along his body, seeking and caressing, her hips shifting in the old motions of the dance, as she felt his length throbbing against her body.

His hard member moved along the length of her pussy as she felt his hands to reach up to caress her full breasts, palms against her nipples, moving in slow motions even as her body fed on 3,000 years of restrained emotion.

As she felt his hands against her breasts, her passion became unbearable. She moved her hips slightly and felt his throbbing cock slip into her wetness. The shaft of desire that coursed along her veins blinded her as she held still for what seemed like ages, but was only a few moments.

Then her body began to move, straddling him as her hips slowly rose and fell, the pleasure rocketing through her body as mewling cries of ecstacy passed her lips. She felt his hands now moving everywhere on her body, along her heaving bosom to caress her neck and face, to slide down along her writhing hips. As her hips moved against him, the feel of his throbbing shaft deep inside her sent bolts of pleasure along her body. Tamira's muscles tightened on each upward stroke, caressing his length and bringing groans of passion from his lips.

The pleasure was building in intensity. Her mind centered on her approaching climax as her hips began to move faster and in small circles, bringing more pleasure to them both. As he felt the sudden, short pulses inside him, his body tensed impossibly, shaking now in anticipation, and when she felt him explode within her, filling her, her first climax in 3,000 years struck, driving out all reason with the force of unspeakable ecstacy.

As her climax peaked, a deep cry of passion was wrung from her lips. Her body convulsed around him, her muscles rippling the length of his staff, bringing a cry of passion from his lips. Her hips continued to move as if they had a will of their own, wringing out each second of the climax.

She seemed to lose conscienousness for a moment at the peak of her climax, her body losing control as her mind suddenly tranced, dwelling on the pleasure that she was experiencing.

Her body fell back to earth after years of ecstacy, her senses becoming aware of her body's solid weight, as well as him against her and inside her. Her breath was quick and deep as she pulled him close, kissing him deeply.

Slowly, she regained control of her body. Her lips moved against his tenderly. A deep sigh of satisfaction escaped as she relaxed against his body. A smile of contentment played along her lips.

"Thank you..." he whispered in a ragged, exhausted voice. "That was incredible."

Rising up, she looked into his eyes. "No... it is I who should thank you... I have never experienced something so 'earth-shattering' as I did just now." She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss along his jawline and then on his lips.

"This is going to take some getting used to," he whispered lightly. He cringed as he lay back. "I feel like the 7th Cavalry just rode all over me."

She smiled slyly. "So you should.. We did go through quite an experience, didn't we?" Slowly, she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly going back to normal.

"Yes... we did. I think... I'm going taa..."

His eyes fluttered, then closed, as fatigue and exhaustion caught up to him and he fell asleep, still holding her close.

A small, satisfied smile played along her lips as she nodded and a blanket slowly covered them. She rested her head against him, and slowly closed her eyes. Slumber quickly claimed her as her hand trailed along his chest.

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The sleeping pair never saw the dim blue glowing light that appeared outside the window, then shot away over the mountain.

It thought, Well, well, well... look who came out of her shell. Dariansk will want to know about this....

The End

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