Dismissed

Calvin gave a short bow before saying calmly "I have found what you sent me for, my lord." He looked over to Lia, then continued quietly, "Perhaps we could discuss it when you are not busy." Viper blinked. Busy? He wasn't busy. Nidia's sister was anything but important to him. She had come asking for employment and board...And however much he didn't want her around to remind him of the one woman who had left her blood on his hands, he owed her that much. Because despite what he had blamed her for and said those years ago, she still stuck beside him, and defended him and his honor. When he did nothing but turn her away, she still did everything she could for him, and her determination did not falter. And while he never would understand why, he couldn't let it go unnoticed, especially since she needed him so much now. So he said nothing about himself being busy, but he didn't send Ophelia away either.

"Wait just a moment, Calvin," he said gruffly, gesturing for him to enter. He took the envelope Calvin had been holding, then returned to his desk. Calvin stood by the door, and Ophelia stayed in her seat. Viper looked between the two. Calvin was one of the few people he ever talked to anymore. He had always proven to be a loyal servant and friend--with the word friend used loosely of course. But Ophelia was a sweet, almost naive young girl who obviously didn't know when to stay away from someone. She was almost exactly like Nidia, but she didn't have the fiery spirit to go with the kind heart. Perhaps it was best, for Richard couldn't handle having another Nidia in his house. He didn't even know why he was torturing himself like this considering allowing Lia to stay. He just...He needed to help her, because she was an innocent being dragged into this mess he had created for himself.

Viper had a feeling he knew what this letter was about and looked to Calvin who was still standing by the door. "Come in and shut the door behind you. It'll only take a minute. I need to speak to you and Miss Dohl about something." With his arms tucked behind his back formally, he made his way to his desk again, sitting down, and pulling the letter from it's envelope. He scanned it, unable to stop the amused smile from crossing his face.

"Greatest of afflictions? Laid at your feet? Beg you to come to our aid?!" The words seemed to get more and more ridiculous as he read on, and it only made him laugh bitterly. The old man who had written this was correct. They had been too ready to dismiss Richard and his men. Too soon had they forgotten everything he had done for them and their land in his prime. Too soon had everyone forgotten! And now...now that he was their only hope they begged for him to bring men and commit suicide at the very beaches on which their own men had failed. "They wish for my help?! HA! Surely they know that I no longer play their foolish games. I am not something they can scorn and then raise up on a pedestal when they wish for my help!" Bringing down his fist upon the hard wood of his desk, he stood, throwing the letter away from himself as if it burned to the touch. Surely Calvin had read it. Surely he had known about what the old man wanted. Why bring such filth into his home when he obviously knew that Viper would react in such a way?

"Calvin. When you are rested, return and tell them that they are far too late to be asking for my help. And take Miss Dohl here with you. She's your new assistant...Make use of her how you wish, but make sure she stays out of my sight," he ordered, taking a book from his desk and walking back over to the book shelf, his own silent way of dismissing them. 

[This chapter was written by a former co-author, Alex Kennedy, who is no longer with Ash and Kiki, and was edited by Ash Skyler and Kiki Rhodes for the purposes of this and future publications.]

First Mate

"Put this down below. It's the bread we'll need. I don't want it getting moldy after two days," the woman directed men with boxes away as she checked another item off her list.

"What about this?" asked a large sailor, two heavy barrels on his back.

"Keep those barrels on deck. The crew will need water readily at hand during the days we're at sea, I don't want them wasting time to go below and sneak a sip." She paused to check her list, "How many morebarrels are there?"

"Five." another man answered as he came abroad with a load of his own.

"Good, that should last the journey... Alright, put them over there. And--" she was cut off by a small, far away voice. 

"Isn't it bad luck having a woman aboard?"

The new voice made Isolde blink and turn around on the deck, her long brown hair catching in the wind as she searched the faces of the crew for the speaker. They all looked just as confused as she did, however, and it didn't take her long to go to the side of the ship and look down to the dock. What she saw made her dark eyes go even darker, a look the entire crew knew all too well. The sailors down below, however, were not so wise. "'Twill bring great misfortune to sail with a woman aboard. Send the lass down here to us! And we'll show'er how a real sailor handles his ship..." The man and his friends all burst into laughter, looking up at Isolde and making gestures with their hands and lips. Isolde rested her elbow on the railing and her chin in her hand, smirking down at the men with a slightly evil twinkle in her eye.

"I fear I would serve a better purpose by staying up here. You see, if I were to leave, great misfortune would instead fall upon you and your comrades," she fired back calmly. The men only laughed, continuing with their jokes and catcalls, but it wasn't long before she heard the sound of the air being cut in two as a blade went flying over her head, causing the men to scatter. It stuck in the dock, sitting there quite harmlessly, but the men still looked from it back up to her with shock and fear shining in their eyes. Isolde only twitched an eyebrow as one of the other crewmen came up behind her, arms folded over his large bare chest and a threatening gleam in his foreign eyes.

"The lady stays with us," he said in a thick tribal accent. Within seconds, the men turned tail and fled. Isolde could only laugh, turning around to thank her good friend, but when she saw his face her smile faltered. Niccolo held out a bottle of rum to her and then jerked his head in the direction of Spike's quarters."He's yelling for you. I'd go now before he decides to take those dogs up on their offer." Isolde sighed and rolled her eyes a little, but took the rum from him and marched straight into Spike's office. She was the only person who had the right to barge in there whenever she pleased. Even if she wasn't the First Mate, she'd still have that luxury. For some reason, she and the Captain simply understood each other. He was the only man who could handle her intelligence and wouldn't try to take advantage of her, and she was the only woman who could get through to him in his moments of rage. They were good together.

But neither of them would ever say that out loud. Certainly not her. Isolde just burst through the door, slamming the rum down on his desk then setting her hands on her hips as she glared up at him. "There's your damn rum, now stop screaming! You're acting like a child! What could possibly be so important?" 

Spike the Bloody

Letter after letter. He'd received nothing but letters. The survivors of the slaughter at Opassa Beach and the devastation at Arni village had sent him nothing but request after request, begging that he come to save them. People from his past wrote to the man he was then. People who knew only of his reputation wrote to the man word of mouth had built up beyond reasonable expectations. All wanted the same thing, for him to swoop in with his crew and rescue them from the fierce dragon. Spike spit at the floor of his Captain's Cabin. Frustration built up inside his chest as he read each pitiful letter. Men he'd respected were bowing on hands and knees to a filthy pirate for help. Had they lost so much pride that they'd stoop to this level? At least, that is what he told himself he was bothered by. In reality it could have been that he'd just become lazy and didn't want to bother himself with pitiful people who were too stupid to fix their own problems. More likely, his heart was bleeding for the people who'd been hurt and he was fighting to smother the compassion before it surfaced. No matter the actual reason, or combined reasons, for his frustration. The fact was, it was growing, and fast. Spike didn't even get through the letter he was holding before he snapped, crumpled up the paper and hurled it at the door. His head fell into his hands, his elbows setting on the fine burgundy desk he'd taken from a Spanish navy ship he'd defended his own crew from several years ago. It fit in nicely with the rest of his decorated office. Spike had always had a taste for the expensive, that was no secret. His cabin was well furnished, with beautifully hand-carved pieces including the bed, the desk, the chairs, and the lock box where he kept his maps and other important documents. Rugs covered every inch of the floor and curtains draped over the windows. It was a beautiful room and one that few ever got to see. But why shouldn't it be a private spectacle? This was his home, after all. He deserved to enjoy it as much as the next man, whether his living was less honestly made or not. 

Spike sighed. A headache was coming on fast, he could feel it. This didn't help his attempts at calming the annoyance and the irrational anger that stirred in his belly. And then there was the matter of catching glimpses of the rest of the letters strewed across the desk every time he opened his eyes. 

"Arrrrgh!" he ran his arm across the whole of the desk, sliding off every paper, pen, inkpot, and knife that was pilled on the wood surface. Everything clattered to the floor with a crash and shatter. He didn't care. What were they but things easily replaced? What mattered most right now was getting the affairs of this dragon sorted, and getting a little alcohol in his belly. Alcohol always took the edge off these headaches. "Isolde!" he shouted for his First Mate, knowing she'd be the one with the answers he was obviously lacking. Several seconds went by, though, with no sign of the trusted woman. Spike could be a patient man when he wanted to be, but that happened only ever on rare occasions. Desperate for her input to alleviate the frustration, and even more deeply desperate for his rum, he slammed his fists on the desk. He wanted her here now. Why was she not here already? His first mate, his trusted advisor, should be with him at all times, especially when he was forced to go through all these damned letters! "Isolde!!!" he shouted again, standing so suddenly from his chair that it was flung backward into the bed. "Damn it, woman! Where are you?!" He was about ready to go on one of his famous rampages across his own deck if she didn't show her face within the next several seconds; preferably with a nice, friendly bottle of rum in her hands.

A Cry for Help

To General Richard P. Viper, 

To the Noble Spike, protector of our seas,

To whomever this letter may reach,

My last hope is in god that this letter has found you. My name is Armon Selar, chief and leader of Arni Village. We have met before in the past and the past holds my greatest of afflictions. To readily were we to dismiss you and your men. You have lived and died for this land and this people, and I commend you. For I must now ask, please live and die for it once more. You will be already aware that the dragon had destroyed our beloved village years ago. But now as we've begun to rebuild, we find ourselves under attack yet again. Men, women, and children who held no ill will are laid at your feet. Scattered in a blood bath covered in ash. I ask you, no, I beg you to come to our aid. Daily, more innocent lives are diminished and soon Arni Village will be no more.

Signed,

        Whoever is left...

[This chapter was written by a former co-author, Alex Kennedy, who is no longer with Ash and Kiki, and was edited by Ash Skyler and Kiki Rhodes for the purposes of this and future publications.]

All Night

It was dark by the time Danni reached the tiny all-hours diner she'd frequented since she could drive. It was almost an hour's drive from her house, off the highway between a truck stop and a roach motel. There was nothing else around for miles, the perfect place to be alone. Which was why she'd texted Tyler to meet her there. She hadn't seen him in months, and she didn't want their reunion to be an awkward handshake under the hawk eyes of his high-school teacher girlfriend Bree Evans. Danni shuddered. Bree was the sweetest woman she'd ever met, but lightening strike her down if those eyes didn't give her the heebie jeebies. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her eyes. She had a very nice bright blue shade of eyes. The color Danni liked using best when she painted a sky scene. But when Bree locked you under those eyes with that teacher's look, and you just knew you were busted even though you hadn't done anything wrong at all... It made keeping things from her very difficult.

With a quick hair check - although she knew there was no use trying to tame her mess of chocolate brown curls - Danni jumped out of the car and headed inside. Before the hostess had time to notice she was there, she slipped in towards the back corner of the restaurant where she'd carved her name into all sorts of places on the old booth. She couldn't tell, but she was 99.9 percent sure she saw wisps of blueish black hair peeking over the top of the seats. Her heart jumped into her throat and stayed there, despite her efforts to shove it back down as she approached at a slower pace.  She swallowed past it, then whispered, straining to contain her excitement, "Tyler...?"

He looked up then, and dark eyes met soft hazel, and for a second things around them just disappeared.  He smiled, and she smiled back, then she slid into the seat next to him as he moved over to make room.  They hadn't sat across from each other in years.  Even when Bree was there... They found a way to sit next to each other.  He murmured a soft, "Hey." in response to her, then, like they both were waiting for, he slowly inclined his head and kissed her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth.

She smiled too and repeated back just as softly, "Hey."  Then they both smiled and laughed nervously.  It was like being in high school all over again when they were alone.  The fluttering hearts and the sweaty palms and the long awkward-but-not pauses.  Finally he reached under the table and traced his finger down her arm from her elbow, "The bus ride was okay?  No problems right?"

Danni smiled and looked down, opening her palm for his touch. "Smooth ride," she whispered, struggling to contain herself. The waitress came to their table, left water and menus in front of them, but neither noticed. When they were alone again, Danni's hand drifted to his leg and she whispered to him, "It's been months, Tyler. Aren't you going to give me a real kiss?" But before he could answer, she leaned over and kissed him first. As usual, there was never a moment's hesitation between them.  Their lips touched.  He smiled and she let out a soft sigh.  They turned towards each other more and his hand on her arm turned to touch her waist, and she leaned just a little so his other arm could slip around her back.  And just like that, they were caught up. The months of being separated seemed to disappear and they fell into each other's arms like they'd never left.

The only thing that separated them this time was the sharp, shrill tone of Tyler's phone.  He jumped a little and she looked up and blinked. He sighed and mumbled, "Sorry..." while tugging it from his pocket and looking down at it.  Danni was just wiping at her lips and waving away the waitress again when she felt (more than heard) him stiffen.  She looked over, he looked up, and his face gave away who it was.  He sighed and showed her the phone.

It was a text. From Bree. It was simple and to the point, and Danni could almost hear her voice in her ear asking what was written on the screen: "At the movies. Where are you?"

Before she could do more than swallow, Tyler pulled the phone back.  He pressed her name on the screen and the message thread cut to the phone. He set it to his ear. A second later they both heard Bree's voice going, "Tyler, where are you?  I've been here for like twenty minutes, and the 9:45 showing of Big League is almost sold out!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yeah, yeah, Bree, I know... I... Listen.  Something came up at work and I had to go back in."  Dannie sighed softly and rested her head on his shoulder as Bree answered sharply.

"Back in?  Why?  It can't wait until tomorrow?  I mean, we planned this night like three weeks ago, Tyler! You can't even take a break for the movie?"

At that he paused.  Danni looked up, her hair falling in her eyes, and after just a second he smiled softly and brushed the strands back behind her ear.  She couldn't help but smile back.  He stroked his thumb over her cheek gently, then finally answered Bree with an almost too-tender, "I think I'll be here all night."

Ophelia Dohl

Lia had risen early that morning, packed what little she owned in a brown burlap sack, and left the elderly woman's home for the last time. The family had given Lia a week after the woman's death to pack her things and find a new place of employment, and she'd spent the week accordingly. She'd visited every place she possibly could, knocked on every door, gone to every shop. Not a single person would hire her or even give her a bed for the night. No one wanted to be associated with a supports of the evil General Viper. The lot of hypocrites hated her just as much as they hated him, and treated her with as little respect as they spoke of him. But if ever they needed something from him, they were the first to fall at his feet in worship, as long as it got them what they wanted. By the last day of the week, Ophelia was almost glad none of the townspeople had hired her. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to tolerate a night in their bed, much less a lifetime in their employment.

On the last day, as she left her house for the last time, clothed in her best dress, most would have expected the young woman to be disheartened. Here she was unemployed and unmarried with no home and no prospects. She was forced onto the streets with no hope of finding a bed for the night. She had every right to be discouraged, didn't she? But she wasn't. In fact, Lia was far from it. She left her house with nothing but her bag and a smile, her heart feeling as light as a feather. Today was the day that General Viper had finally agreed to see her. After four years of visiting the manor and four years of being turned away he was finally agreeing to meet with her, speak with her. Lia couldn't have felt happier. Richard was the only man she had ever loved and cherished in her entire twenty-three years. Today she would finally get to see him again, possibly convince him to hire her on as part of his staff. She was willing to do anything, as long as she could be near him. Oh! How lucky his servants were to get to see him every day! He was the last bit of her past, of her sister, and of her family that she had to cling to. She needed this today. She needed things to work her way for once.

Getting into the manor was easy. The servants and guards all new her well and let her into the huge home, even helping her locate Richard's study where they assured her he would be. Taking a deep breath and pulling together the courage to enter was even easier than she'd expected. Her heart pounded nervously in her chest, threatening to break out with how nervous she was. She didn't even breath as she pushed open the door, not thinking to knock and only letting herself in. She found her love sitting at the desk, looking unconcerned over several papers spread out in front of him. He glanced up at her, the cold look in his eyes making her falter a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and took a seat in front of his desk.

"Good morning, Richard," she spoke affectionately in greeting, forcing herself to stay as calm as possible. Once he'd greeted her with a curt nod, she begun to explain why she was here. "I know this a lot to ask of you, after so many years. You certain feel no obligation to me, but you are the last person I have left to go to in this place. All I am asking for is a job and a place to stay. My late employer passed and the family has neither need nor want for me, so I've nowhere now to go, and you are the last person I can turn to. But you know me, Richard. You know I'll work hard and earn my keep. You won't know I'm here, really. Please, if you'd just let me join your housekeeping staff that would be more than enough...." She'd been fully prepared to continue when he interrupted her, saying that she looked a lot like her sister Nidia, his comment caught her off guard. She forgot everything she was going to say.

After these words were spoken, both she and Viper went silent. She wasn't sure how to respond to that. Her sister had been a beautiful woman, and to be complimented in such a way was beyond flattering. But Lia knew that he hadn't meant it in any complimentary way. He meant that she reminded him of her. That was a harder blow to process. Even after nearly five years, the death of her beloved sister was still so hard to deal with. The pain was still so fresh in her heart. She knew Richard had also been close to her. He was still hurting too. He'd lost two people that day, after all. Not just Nidia, but his best friend, her husband, as well. To say that she reminded him of Nidia was to say that she was a ghost of the past. Salt in an open wound. Lia knew this, understood this, and ventured so far as to think that she was probably be the only one who ever could. It hurt her, to think that all he saw in her was her sister, but that did not change her love for him or her need for his help now.

Lia's eyes were glazed over with unshed tears as she parted her lips to speak again, wanting to break the tense silence that had fallen over them. The comment had stirred up painful memories for both of them and she didn't want that to continue. But her lips remained parted and unmoving as she stared into Viper's sea green eyes. Those eyes that held so much from her. His true feelings, his true passions. She could no longer see his heart in his eyes. He'd locked it away long ago for reasons she'd never quite been able to understand. Still, in those cold, captivating eyes, she could see one thing. His heart was still in there. It was locked tightly and buried deep, but it was still there. That gave her comfort enough to brave trying to say something, but to her relief, her words were not needed. A knock at the door broke the tension in her stead. It was a relief. The distraction couldn't have come at a better time. Politely, Ophelia remained in her seat and watched as Viper moved to open the door. In entered the woman that Ophelia recognized as Calvin, one of Richard's personal guard. All of the sudden, Lia's heart stopped and her blood ran cold. She feared this man. She distrusted him, though there was no real reason for it. It was something in his eyes, in his voice. She couldn't trust him. Tension built up in her stomach as she watched the man enter, but Lia said nothing. It was not her place to. She had no possession over Richard. Not yet. She was forced to sit helplessly silent, waiting for the guard to hurry up and finish his business so that Lia could have Richard's attention again, what little he gave her.

General Richard Viper

Richard Viper hadn't slept well at all the night before, which really hadn't been any different than the past five years after Nidia was found dead on the floor of his guest room. The room he'd let her use to recover after the attack on her and her sister. After he had lied and told her that her husband had died while trying to save them. After he had confessed his own love for her. To know deep down that her blood was on his hands did not set well with him, and worse than that, he had denied it to the world. He was a liar, and a murderer. With Nidia, everything that had made General Viper a good, honorable man died as well.

Rubbing at his eyes, then massaging his forehead with a single hand, he sat in his study, reviewing another text about the Dragon Stones, the myth that had foolish men risking their lives for a wish. Yes, to have a wish granted would be wonderful. But for grown men to give up what they had left to go after the nearly impossible chance of getting back what they lost made Viper pity their stupidity. He was different. He had nothing left to lose. He was alone. He had no respect among the people. The only thing he had was a long sword that had been passed down from his father. It was the only thing he really cared for anymore. The only thing besides Nidia, of course. Even more so lately he was forced to think of the long gone beauty, thanks to her younger sister Ophelia, who had been bugging him to speak to her about an urgent matter. Not urgent enough, he had told himself over and over again. But even a stubborn man could only take so much pleading from a woman. He had finally agreed to meet with her. This very morning in fact. Although deep down he wished and prayed that the woman wouldn't show.

She had. Looking almost as beautiful as her sister. They had the same eyes, that deep brown that pulled a man in with a single glance, and the same creamy pink tone to her skin, that seemed too fragile, even for a woman. But, Ophelia had a gentleness about her that Nidia hadn't. Nidia was a strong woman, one who could usually hold her own and knew what she wanted. That difference was really the only relief Viper had as Ophelia started to ask him to employ her, telling him that she was homeless and unemployed and in desperate need of a job. But all he could tell himself was every day that Ophelia worked for him, was just another painful reminder of what Nidia had left behind. How he would see her sister's beauty hidden within her every single day. An awkward silence fell between them for a few minutes, and he swallowed, staring at her for a long time before opening his mouth and letting out a deep sighed reply. “You...you look a lot like her. Your sister, I mean...Nidia...”

The last word had escaped his lips with a painful tone, and he quickly reached for his ale, taking a deep swig of the bitter liquid before setting it down and shuffling through some of the papers on his desk. Maps and letters...other junk that he hadn't gone through in some time. The young girl sitting on the other side of the desk hadn't said another word, probably too stunned to come up with something to say, or perhaps processing his words in search of her answer. Viper wasn't sure, and he really didn't care. The woman made him feel uneasy. For her not to hate him was a mystery; he had blamed her for the death of her sister. So guilt combined with staring into the face of the dead woman made his stomach flip with some unpleasant concoction of emotion. A feeling he'd rather never feel again, if such a thing could be helped.

[This chapter was written by a former co-author, Alex Kennedy, who is no longer with Ash and Kiki, and was edited by Ash Skyler and Kiki Rhodes for the purposes of this and future publications.]

Terranigma Septum

After the death of beloved wife, sister, and friend, Nidia Dohl, three loved ones set out on a quest to find the mythical dragon stone and claim it's magical abilities to grant it's user one wish. Nidia's husband, the viscous pirate captain Spike the Bloody, and his loyal first mate Isolde, leave their ship in search of the legendary Undead Assassin, the only man to fight a dragon and live to tell his stories. While Nidia's only sister, under the employment of her close friend and secret admirer, General Viper, go on their own search for a deadly dragon terrorizing a southern village. Through battles, with creatures and each other, the group comes together for one common goal. Not only will they learn to survive each other, but each will be forced to learn to live with themselves. Join their incredible journey, and just maybe, you'll find yourself along with them.

Welcome Home, Danni!

Danni could hardly breath with excitement as she stepped off the bus in her beautiful sunshine state! She shouldered her backpack and collected her duffle bag as quickly as possible. It was an early, warm September morning. The sun was warm, the air was fresh, the people were smiling and friendly. At least one of them. Her beautiful sister. Danni ran to meet her. "Desiree!!" She dropped her bags and they threw their arms around each other. "Jeez! You're glowing! What'd you swallow a jar of light bugs or something?" Her sister laughed and hugged her back.

"Don't be ridiculous, honey. I told you I'm pregnant." They hugged again, clinging to each other. It was clear her sister had missed her. Danni was glad to know that. It was nice to be missed. She felt loved.

Desiree hooked her arm in Danni's and picked up her backpack. "So. Tell me about this mystery crush of yours." Danni blinked, nearly dropping her bag.

"What...??" Desiree laughed and kissed her cheek.

"Don't play dumb. She's been writing letters to Mom and Dad's house ever since you left. She must miss you quite a bit." Danni nearly choked on her breath.

"She???" Desiree blinked innocently. Obviously she found nothing wrong or surprising with this statement. Not that Danni could blame her. High school had been an...adventurous time.

"Well the handwriting certainly looks like a woman, and the person never signs their name, so we assumed..."

"No," Danni quickly corrected her, dumping her bags in the trunk of her sister's car. "Definitely not a woman. I promise." Desiree laughed and tried a few more times to get her to say who it was, but Danni wouldn't tell. She'd never tell. That would spoil half the fun.

"Here's your phone, by the way. Mom is still paying the bills on it, but Frank and I have our own plan now." Danni took the phone with a quick thanks and instantly sent a mass text to all her best friends.

"Danni's back!" The first to respond was of course the gorgeous hunk who wrote like a girl... For years Danni had crushed on one of the hottest boys in school, Tyler Wells, and after graduation he'd approached her about going out. She'd been his dirty little secret ever since and she wouldn't have it any other way!

She just wished Bree knew...

Just One Mistake

The moment she said his name, she knew it was a mistake.  Touching his chest was a mistake too.  Mistake, mistake, every part of her brain was screaming that this entire thing was a mistake!  She should push him away and run down the hall, down the stairs, and go find a member of her family, someone she could trust to be around who wouldn't let Eric be this way with her.  Preferably Mark, wherever he had gone.  If she stayed with Mark, Eric wouldn't dare look at her like that, or tou--!!  Her thoughts cut off as a jolt of electricity seemed to spark its way through her skin, up her veins, down her spine, and then root her feet to the floor so that she couldn't move if she tried.  His fingers had moved up her bare arm to wrap around her, gliding over her shoulder, down her back, to rest on the area just over the small bustle she was wearing.  It pulled him ever so slightly closer to her, and while that only brought them an inch or so more together it was close enough that Jessalyn gasped lightly, and her hand on his chest went from tense with fear and panic to curling into his shirt slightly.  She had never noticed how good he smelled... how warm he was... how soft his touch could be...  The tingle that had never quite left her lower abdomen surged again, only this time it started to radiate through her entire body, pooling in the most private area of her body.  Oh God... this was a mistake... This shouldn't be happening... It was improper and inappropriate and sinful and... and...

... Maybe just one mistake wouldn't be too terrible to make... Maybe just... one...

But then he slowly, almost achingly, pulled his hands from her, curling them into fists and clenching his jaw so tightly that she pulled her own hand back from his chest.  It was so strange.  One moment she swore he was about to cover her mouth (and other parts of her) with his and then the next she felt cold and exposed and vulnerable as he moved away, saying through gritted teeth that God must give him strength against going mad if she didn't accept him soon.  She shut her eyes and self-consciously crossed both slender hands over herself, hooking them onto her shoulders as if trying to add one more layer he would have to get through if he wanted her as much as he seemed to.  And then when he went on to suggest that she head downstairs to greet Emily when she arrived, Jessalyn drew in a deep breath and nodded, but not to him.  To herself.  Reminding herself that all of this, this entire four or five minutes they had just shared was dripping in carnal, sexual heat.  And carnal, sexual heat did not a faithful man make.  It still wasn't proof that Eric truly cared for her, enough to marry her and spend his life with her.  It just... It didn't.  So when she finally opened her blue eyes, she nodded again at him and then slowly inched around him, walking sideways like a crab until she was free.  At that point she broke into a fast walk, both hands pushed into that tingle in her abdomen as she tried her best not to stumble.  She made it down the hall and around the corner, down the stairs and then to the front door.  There she stopped, smiling briefly at the nergo doorman as he straightened his white gloves.

"Miss Emily should be arriving soon, Miss Jessalyn," he said with a big grin.  She didn't respond.  Oh God... she could still hardly breathe...!

Saying Goodbye

Whatever tears were left were caught up in his throat, forming a hard sort of lump that he couldn't get to go away.  It was.... a little strange.  He'd always thought he wouldn't be able to keep it together should he outlive her.  He had always seen himself being unable to stay around all the people looking at him and smiling comfortingly, instead having to get himself away from them and the rooms that seemed heavy with the emotion of the day.  He recalled a scene from a movie, very vaguely, in which three children who had lost their parents secluded themselves from the funeral guests by going upstairs and hiding in the back of their mother's closet, at which point the youngest noted "it smells like mommy in here".  That was what he had always thought he would end up doing.  Locking himself away from everyone and just wrapping himself in everything that she used to be.  Everything that, to him, she still was.  And yet... here he sat.  His shoulders were hunched.  His fingers were laced with his hands hanging limpy between his knees, his elbows rested on his legs.  His head was down a little and his gaze was unfocused, though he stared in the general direction of his shoes.  The only thing that made him look up was the soft whisper in his ear.  "Grandpa."  It almost sounded... for just a second... like Charlotte's voice.  But he blinked and looked up quickly only to find a big pair of soft-gray eyes staring back at him, the angelic face framed with wispy blonde hair that made the three-year-old look even more innocent than she really was.  It was his youngest granddaughter, Heather.  The youngest child of his own youngest child, Lily.  She had named both of her daughters after flowers, he suddenly noticed... Lily, Jasmine, Heather... He wondered if Charlotte had ever noticed it?  It was the kind of thing she would have loved...

But he blinked again and suddenly, everything around him became very clear.  The blonde little girl was standing up on the pew next to him, her mother holding onto her waist with one hand to make sure she didn't fall.  Heather was wearing a pink dress with a flower crown on her head of soft blonde hair - too young still to fully grasp the meaning of what was going on here.  She smiled at him, though.  All she saw was that her grandfather was sad, and she wanted to help him be happy again.  So after a moment of looking back at the little girl, the one piece of innocence he could see in this entire church, Charlie reached out with both arms, she walked into them, and he picked her up and settled her down to sit on his lap.  He held her close, looking over at her mother and giving a half-hearted effort at a smile as Lily reached out and touched his shoulder before sniffing roughly and then quickly turning back to bury her face in her husband's shoulder.  He took a deep breath and adjusted Heather on his lap, but as soon as he swallowed past that lump in his throat and started to turn his attention back to what exactly Ducky was saying, he stretched out a hand to the coffin and stepped down from the podium to sit back with his wife and children only a little way from him.  What?  Al... Already?  He... He didn't think he could... Not with Heather, surely, and she only just got settled, so... so maybe he should just stay here.  He... He didn't...

... He didn't want to think of Charlotte - his Charlotte - being in that wooden box and... and never coming out of it...

But then, somehow, as if something else was compelling him to get up and take slow step after slow step towards the coffin... that's exactly what he did.  He had Heather next to him, holding her left hand in his right, as he moved up to the coffin and gently touched it with his hand.  But the wood, while of a nice make and color, was cold and hard.  Exactly the opposite of what his Charlotte had been.  Charlie visibly winced and pulled his hand back before barely a second had passed, tugging Heather away slightly until she started to walk with him on her own.  Her mother passed him as they walked back to the pews, and Charlie let Lily pick Heather up in her arms.  He loved the little girl, but he didn't want a child hanging on him at the moment.  He wanted... he...  He wanted to...

People started talking around him.  A low mumble as people whispered and spoke under their breath, starting to converse more freely now that the main service was over.  A child's voice, a boy who he knew was Caleb just by the level of energy in his words, and then a grown man shushing him quickly and with a trace of panic in his voice.  Caleb's older brother Christian.  Charlie had met them before.  He knew them both quite well, so he didn't get upset or insulted at Caleb's little lack of subtlety.  Besides, he heard Ducky speak to them after a few moments, telling them that there would be pie and other things back at his house with Linda.  Caleb exclaimed excitedly at that, drawing a few good-natured chuckles from some of the people around them, but Charlie found himself suddenly standing off to the side, his hands in his pockets and his eyes fixed strangely on the doors at the back of the church.  He knew what he wanted now.

He wanted to be alone...

The procession of people moved as a group towards the lobby of the dark church building. Although before the preceding many of the guests had mingled and exchanged pleasant conversation, now the crowd was quiet, heavy with the loss that had been reminded them by the speeches given moments before. Ducky stayed close to his wife and children, keeping withing arm's reach of at least two of them at all times. His daughters were busy keeping their kids in line. His wife was going from person to person sharing hellos and other such pleasantries, a habit that did well for being a pastor's wife. He dealt through the various greetings and thank yous with less enthusiasm than she. His mind was preoccupied with other things. So many people had come to say their final farewells to this wonderful woman, yet it the crowd it shouldn't have been hard to spot the man who should have been of most concern to all these people. As Ducky stood by the door, absentmindedly answering the passing comments of the departing groups, his eyes were scanning the crowd for his dear friend. Where could he have been?

Linda made her way over to him, a small amount of concern in her eyes as she looked up to her husband. "Is everything alright, dear?" Ducky took a moment to scan the room a second longer before putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling down at his wife.

"Oh yes, my love. Everything is just fine. I'm simply worrying about Charlie. He was one of the first to leave, but I haven't seen him since he slipped through the door. You don't see him here, do you?"

Gently, Linda laid her soft hands atop his. "Wyatt and Miriam took him outside to the car. She says he's really not up to going to the grave sight. I can't even imagine how hard this must be for him." Ducky nodded, agreeing with his wife. He had no idea what his best friend must be going through. Not just because he's lost his wife, but because he had no comfort in the afterlife. Ducky could say with certainty that, though he may lose his friends and family here, some day soon he would see many of them again. Charlie just didn't have that confidence, and it must have been terrifying. How lonely it must be for him.

"How about I take him home, huh? Just to, you know, keep an eye on him. Keep him company."

"That sounds like a good idea. If he feels up to it later on you can bring him over to our house. Just...don't push him, alright? Remember, there's a time a place." Ducky knew well enough Linda wasn't just talking about a dinner invitation. He had a reputation for taking any opportunity to share the gospel, especially with those he held most dear, and even more especially with the open door that the loss of a loved one provided. Linda was warning him to be careful. There was a time when sharing God's word would be accepted, and a time when sharing it would close the door for good. Again, Ducky nodded in agreement with his wife's wise words of advice.

"I won't push him. I promise." He kissed her lips quickly, moving towards the door to push it open for another elderly couple. "I'll see you at home. I love you!"

"I love you," he heard her response as he slipped through the door after the first couple and headed out towards the parking lot. It didn't take him long to follow the rather noisy voices of restless children and their desperate mother.

"Miriam!"

"Oh, thank heavens you're here. Wyatt? Dad's here. Tell Charlie to let my dad take him home before we have to go to a murder trial too!" Ducky couldn't help but chuckle as he came close enough to realize that all the noise was caused by all of Miriam's children fighting over some sort of rock one of them had picked up from the flower bed outside the church doors. Miriam was right in the middle of the commotion, trying to get her kids to stop the fighting, but it was obvious she needed the man of the house to help. Ducky moved more quickly towards the car, passing his son-in-law on the way. He found Charlie in his car, looking more frayed than he'd imagined.

"Heya, Gramps," he teased lightly, letting his hand fall heavily on the other man's shoulder in a sort of pat. "How about you let me drive ya? That way you don't have to worry about all the reckless drivers and bumper traffic out there making you go crazy."

Desperation

She blinked, and suddenly her back was against a wall and no amount of praying was letting her fall through it.  Instead it just seemed to become more and more solid, the same way it seemed like Eric got closer and closer with every breath she took.  As she had taken step after step away from him, trying to keep a respectful distance between them, he had taken step after step forward, doing his best to close that distance until she was cornered without even getting the chance to realize it.  She couldn't even remember what he had said to her about Emily, and any words she had tried to choke out in reply had gotten caught in her throat until they died and were forgotten.  Now she stood here, her back pushed against the wall with one of his strong arms blocking her escape path and his other hand touching lightly the bare skin of her wrist.  Oh, Lord in Heaven... she wouldn't know where to begin if someone were to see this. If Mark were to see this, there was no telling what he'd do to Eric. Mark could be an obnoxious, overbearing sort of man, but he loved her and had proven it on many an occasion.  Not the least of which was the ball when she was 18 and Mark broke his hand on the jaw of a suitor who had grown too forward for a proper gentleman.  Eric was so close to the same sort of thing right now. Oh, if only she didn't want it the way she did...!

"Mr. Banning, you are on dangerous grounds here... You remember how my brother handled the last man to overstep his bounds with me.  You were there... you saw it... I don't believe Mark would be any easier with you simply because we've known you since childhood..." she whispered to him.  But the more she spoke the heavy her chest felt, until with her last words she felt as if she would suffocate. Their eyes had locked and his lips were parted ever so slightly. She could feel every slow breath he exhaled, caressing over her face and the skin exposed on her neck and shoulders and the very tops of her... Her right hand suddenly shot out, slamming against Eric's chest and pushing back against him firmly.

"Eric..." she breathed out, trying to give him a warning but the word coming out too weak to convey it properly.  Oh, God, what was this?!

She was feeling it too, Eric could see it. He could feel it. Her voice trembled as she warned him of the boundaries he was about to cross. He hardly heard her. He hardly cared. He felt her hand turning into his touch. He let his fingers venture further up her arm towards her inner elbow. But that was when he suddenly felt her hand pressing against his chest. His own breath hitched. His own body's excitement had shot up ten points by the resistance she set against him. His left hand left the walk, quickly wrapping around the back of her right shoulder. His palm and fingers pressed themselves against the silk, beneath the lace collar of her gown. He felt the soft curve of her side and the small bump of her shoulder blade. He pulled his hand down her back, following her spine to the small of her back. Her lips curved in a second shuddered whisper of his name. Shivers ran down his spine and his fingers curled against her back. He'd dreamed in cold sweats of hearing her say his name that way. In the darkest, most sinful corners of his imagination he'd listened to her whisper and moan and scream his name just like that. It took all the self control he could muster not to ask her to say it again. He wanted to hear it again, needed to. But he wouldn't ask. Jessalyn was a proper lady. What must she think of this now? Certainly voicing his desires would further prove to turn her attentions far from him.

Eric slid his hand towards him across her back, then her side, before removing his fingers from her body. His other hand followed suit. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think. But he knew well enough to realize when her temptations to him became too great. He stood where he'd been, arms at his sides. Little by little he calmed his raging desires for her, staying silent until he was able to take one step away. "God give me strength, if you don't accept me soon I may go mad," he whispered, trying not to draw attention to the bodily manifestations his longings had left him with. He swallowed thickly, trying to even his breath. "My sister will be arriving soon. Perhaps you should go to meet her." He didn't want her to go but Eric knew he needed to be far from her for at least a short time if he expected to survive the evening's meal together. He'd had no idea that this particular time away from her had left him so completely desperate for her. Eric needed to get control of this, and it needed to happen now.

Those Eyes...

She took the chance. Jessalyn left the library and rushed past the dining room, up the stairs, then started down the corridor towards her room. Alright, so far so good. All she had to do was wait until Eric was occupied, and then she could do what she pleased. Find Timothy, talk with him a little, maybe set up one of their secret night-time meetings with Rachel that he had grown fonder and fonder of in the past couple years. And if she couldn't find Timothy, she'd go riding. Or take a walk around the gardens, or maybe take the carriage and go into town for shopping... visit some people... As she thought of all the different things she could do that didn't involve seeing Eric, her heart lightened and her step quickened. Yes, there were plenty of things she could do. Plenty of distractions, plenty of things to keep her busy. Better to be busy than to be wasting her time daydreaming over one man who was... probably going to turn out just like all the rest. It was just a matter of statistics and--

She barely controlled a startled jump when she blinked and Eric was suddenly right in front of her, his stance and expression perfectly polite and gentlemanly but his eyes... Oh, his eyes, they had that look again! She glanced up into them and then quickly look down at his nose instead. But that hardly did any good because when he spoke, telling her that she was quite the distraction in the study that morning, she realized... His voice was like a vocal expression of his eyes. There was just as much intensity dripping in his words as in his eyes. Oh, God... she suddenly felt the need to get herself to a church...! But she stood her ground, letting him kiss her hand in greeting and then licking her lips as she responded to him. "My apologies again, Mr. Banning. Like I told my father... I was just excited about finally getting to see your sister today. You know how fond Emily and I are of each other. Almost like real sisters."

He let a small chuckle escape from his chest. Yes, she and his sister were very close. Impossibly so, in fact. He never did understand how two women could talk for so long about things as unimportant as decorated fabric. Then again, women's fascinations with clothing were what kept his father, and by extension him, in business. He smiled, the charming little heart-fluttering smile his mother had always told him he had. The one only Jessalyn ever saw nowadays. 

"I'm glad you are excited, Miss. My sister, Im sure, is just as excited to see you." He took a step towards her, moving their bodies closer together. She stepped back. He stepped closer. His eyes were on hers for a moment, but it wasn't long before they began to wander down. Over her neck, her collar, her chest. He kept moving closer, keeping their bodies no more than six inches away. He couldn't have explained why he was doing this. The close proximity, the silent cornering. He felt her body heat, heard her quickened breaths. He realized his breaths were just as quick and shallow. His heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn't think. It was too difficult to hear logical thought over the blood rushing in his head. 

Eric lifted his eyes from her body to her eyes. Anything she said he could hardly hear. She was against the wall now, no space for her to move away from him. They were so close. Just another step and he could press her sultry curves against his own body. His skin burned and he could feel the blood pooling in his lower abdomen. To be this close to her yet unable to have his way with her was so frustrating and yet so overwhelmingly exciting. Eric's hand lifted. He wasn't sure where he'd meant it to go, but he was certain it was no where innocent. Taking a quick deep breath he forced back control of his own limbs. Instead of touching her he slowly pressed his palm against the wall, his arm centimeters from her perfect waist. He kept his hand there stiffly, forcing his body a safe distance away from hers. 

His right hand, not as under control as his left, lifted to touch the soft sensitive skin below her wrists. His feverish skin against hers left his head spinning and his skin tingling. It was addicting. She was harder to quit than any drug. Even now, as little as he touched her, he knew it wasnt enough, and feared his body's dissatisfaction would be more than obvious...

Meetings

Eric bit his tongue until he tasted blood. It was the only way he was able to put his head back on straight. Jessalyn... When she'd looked into his eyes he felt again that raw emotion he could do nothing to hide. With a deep breath, swallowing the blood that spilled from the bite marks, Eric looked back up to the two men who had already begun again with their discussion.  He cut them off and said quickly, before either of them could even give him dirty looks, "But you're talking about either increasing workers or labor hours. Your cost will increase, raising the price of product."


But Mark replied quickly with a rebuttal of his own, "If we simply increase labor hours the costs will be no different on our end."

"But of course on our end the price of earliest shipments will increase."

"But of course," Mark smirked this time, in that annoying way as if he knew something no one else in the room did and he liked it that way, "Then again, early supply on your end also justifies higher prices."

Eric paused, and the air turned cold around them.  He slowly looked over and met Mark's eyes directly.  The tension between the two of them was obvious.  Despite growing up together, playing as children, the two of them could not be more different.  They had inherited their fathers' businesses - none of their friendship.  "I don't like the idea of your cost coming off the backs of the slaves. That's no better than blood money."

Mark's smirk grew deeper and his eyes flashed darkly "And that, Eric, is why you run a factory."

To that, he had no reply.

Several hours later, Eric left the office with a headache and a sour stomach. He hated these meetings. The complete heartlessness of the Larocque's eldest son was more than enough to make Eric want to brutally murder something. He clenched his fists, walking stiffly but quickly down the hall and up the stairs to the guest room where he'd spent the night before. He needed time alone. Time to calm himself before Emily arrived and ran his nervous in another direction, but more importantly before he saw Jessalyn again. God help him if he ran into her now. Frustrated as he was he doubted his own ability to control himself towards her.

Eric took another deep breath as he rounded the corner, but the moment he did his racing heart dropped a foot into his stomach. Walking towards him, her silky brown hair brushing the soft skin of her bare shoulders, was the one woman he'd prayed not to see right now. Not like this. He swallowed thickly, wanting to turn the other way, but it was too late. Shed seen him, and here she came towards him, her perfect form moving towards him more quickly. He swallowed again, looking over his shoulder to be sure they were alone. Then he looked back to her, his lips curving up in a smirk as he took a step forward to meet her in the middle of the hall.

"You were quite the distraction this morning, Miss Larocque." he spoke softly, holding out his hand for hers. When she gave it to him he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her sweet skin. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Her scent was so completely intoxicating. He wished he could keep his lips against her skin for the hours upon hours he had dreams of. But eventually, reluctantly he did lower her hand and return it to her. Though he wished he could hold her now, he knew soon enough that time would come. And when it did, he would hold her forever. Completely his alone, for eternity.

The Library

"It was so strange, Rachel. I can't understand it..." she whispered, one hane pressed against her still-tingling abdomen with her other hand wrapped tight in Rachel's. She wasn't trembling and she didn't feel dizzy, but she felt close to both. It was just... It was just so strange! He'd never looked at her like that before, with his eyes all hot and staring. No one had ever looked at her like that before! "It was like he... Rachel, it was like he knows what I look like without my clothes on!"

"Jessalyn, not so loud!"

"I can't help it! You should have seen it! You'd be loud too!"

Rachel's grip on her hand tightened and she quickly pulled Jessalyn into another corner farther off down the hall, looking around cautiously to make sure no one else was around who could hear. "Well, I thought you wanted him to look at you like that? Didn't you? I remember, last night you had Hattie set out this pink dress you've got on now, you said that the color looks good on you... And I do seem to remember when Mr. Eric was down here for the spring barbeques, you didn't mind him looking at you so much then..."

"Well, it was different then, Rachel! His eyes weren't so... intense. They weren't so hungry, so burning..."Her voice trailed off into nothing and she closed her eyes for a moment, and Rachel was just opening her mouth to say something when a light voice with a slight French accent floated towards them from around a corner.

"Rachel, come sing to me again. That church song, the one you sang for us last Christmas..."

Both girls sighed at the words. "Its your mother... I have to go. She's always been kind to me, I don't want to risk that..."

Jessalyn looked down and nodded quickly, letting go of Rachel's hand and taking a deep breath. "No, I understand. It's alright. Go on, go on. I'll talk to you tonight? Maybe?" Rachel nodded at her, then touched her shoulder one last time before she walked past her and turned the corner to go into Mistress Larocque's private sitting room. Jessalyn felt bare and cold without her friend with her, but... She drew in a deep breath and imagined physically putting her head back on her shoulders where it belonged instead of rolling around up in the clouds, and then she let out her breath and walked forward. Alright. Alright, she said to herself, no more of that. She'd talk to Eric about it the next time they were alone, he'd provide a perfectly logical explanation, she'd feel like a fool for thinking it was something so serious, and it'd all be over. Yes... Yes, that was it. She walked back to her room and brushed her hair a little, being careful not to undo the curls from her hair or snag her dangling pearl earrings. She fixed the way the lace was laying across the top of her dress and then set the cameo necklace to lie on her chest properly, then she looked herself over in the mirror one more time before leaving her room and heading back towards the study. But she wasn't going to bother her father and brother again. No, she'd... She'd go down to the library. Yes, that was it. The library! She had always found sanctuary there, and she did again now. She went inside it and firmly shut both the doors, grabbing a book she'd read a hundred times and opening it again, sitting in the same chair she'd sat in since she was five years old. Naturally, she finished the book in only a few hours, sliding it back into its place on the shelf, but as she was leaving the library she saw her brother coming down the stairs and then heading outside. The meeting was over... Eric would be coming down soon... She quickly shut the door more, but not entirely, cracking it just enough that she could watch out of it and wait for him to go past so she could freely go back upstairs. But minutes passed, the clock in the entrance hall chimed the hour, and still he didn't come down. He must still be with her father, discussing last-minute things... Which meant if she hurried, she could make it to her room or her mother's room without seeing him...

Tyler Wells

He should have turned his phone off so his mother didn't try to call him every ten minutes.  Tyler had taken his own car into the city instead of the Lincoln she preferred he use.  It was sleek and black, and it came with a driver.  That was his mother, always trying to show off who they were and what they did and how rich they were.  As if the world didn't already know them.  They owned like half the world's oil reserves and had stocks in all the others.  Or something like that.  Tyler had never cared much about where they got their wealth from.  He just knew they had it, and his parents thought that made them worth more than anyone else.

Tyler had thought so too for a long time, until his father had died.  In the depths of his grief he'd gone online to forget for a while, and all he'd found were blog posts and Facebook statuses hailing his father's death as the end of an era of tyranny.  He hadn't known what to make of it, and in efforts to understand he'd created a fake profile on several sites and started posting until he did.  His father, and their entire company, had been accused of destroying the environment, endangering jobs, compromising international treaties and agreements, even interfering in political events in foreign countries.  It still sent his head reeling.  Especially when he thought about for longer than two minutes and Tyler realized... All those accusations were probably right...

But when those thoughts started to take over his brain, he forced them out.  He wanted nothing to do with that blood money anymore, but he didn't know how to live without it.  It was like a drug.  Like his cigarettes.  Or like Danni.

He parallel parked on a busy city street and got out, adjusting his leather jacket as he walked into a coffee shop he frequented when he wanted to be left alone.  He order a black coffee and then went to sit outside among all the romantic couples and hipster playwrights on their laptops, then pulled out his phone and a cigarette and immediately texted Danni a short, "Hey."

In a second she replied, a much more excited, "Hiya!  What's up?!"  Tyler couldn't help but chuckle and smile at that.  She was always so bright and colorful, like the art she created.  He typed back quickly.

"Getting coffee at Biggby's."

"Sounds like high school all over again ;) "

He answered without thinking, "Except no Bree to bring us down."

As soon as he sent it he realized he shouldn't have.  Bree was a sensitive issue between them.  More sensitive than his tree-killing parents and her left-wing hairbrained ideas.  Bree was a person they both loved and cared about, a person neither of them had ever intended to hurt.  But they both still knew they had.  She was his girlfriend of almost ten years now, ever since sophomore year in high school.  She'd been Danni's friend for just as long.  The two of them couldn't go one conversation without her name being mentioned.  It was harder than it sounded... to pretend you weren't cheating on the one person who'd stood by you through everything...

Eric Banning

"Your family usually supports the Republican candidates, right, Eric?" The question had just left her mouth when Mark cut her off, telling her that she had to leave now because their meeting was urgent and couldn't be continued with her sitting there. Jessalyn looked over at him, her lips slightly parted with the orange pressed to them.  He had spoken right before she was going to take another bite, and as she blinked first at her brother, then at her father, then Eric, she self-consciously finished the bite, chewed and swallowed it, then smiled and walked forward slowly.  "Forgive me, Daddy," she said as she approached their father, "I didn't realize it was so important. I was just so excited about getting to see Emily today that I couldn't stop myself!" She giggled a little as she leaned down to kiss his cheek, and he smiled back up at her and touched her arm gently.

"It's perfectly alright, Jessy," he said, using the pet name for her that no one had used since she was ten years old. Jessalyn smiled at him again before straightening up and turning to Mark.  Her expression changed to one of apology, though her lips were still turned upwards in a smile as she approached him and kissed his cheek as well.

"I am sorry, brother," she said to him, one hand on his shoulder, "But you need to stop fretting over everything so much... you'll get wrinkles." She stood up straight and touched her finger to his brow and then to her's, smiling wider as Mark gave her an exasperated, annoyed look. She knew she got on his nerves sometimes... a lot of the time... But she also knew that he loved her, as much as if not more than their father did.  As the only girl in their entire family, she could be counted fortunate on that account.  She smiled at her brother one more time before her blue eyes wandered over to her left where Eric was sitting.  He had a very relaxed stance and an almost completely blank expression on his face. But only almost.  His eyes were far from expressionless.  If anything, when she looked into his eyes, she saw more than she felt decent seeing.  His eyes were so... hungry.  So full of want and an intensity she'd never been able to imagine even in her most shameful daydreams.  Had he looked at her that way before...?  Had she never noticed...?  Wait... She shouldn't like it... That was the way men looked at women when their intentions were impure and base and raw and... and animalistic and... and pure sin...

She breathed in deeply and then sighed it out, finally managing a polite nod at Eric while she took another bite of the orange. "I'll leave you men to disappear behind a cloud of cigar smoke, talking about money and politics and far more important things that don't concern me..." she said, trailing off with a small smile before looking back at her brother and father, then walking (maybe a little too fast) past Eric and back out the study doors.  The moment the doors closed behind her she stopped, leaning back against them with one hand pressed to her chest as it rose and fell with fast, heavy breaths.  She didn't... she didn't know why that three-second stare between them had affected her this way.  But what Jessalyn did know was that her pulse could suddenly be heard in her head and her skin felt hot and flushed as if she'd just gone riding.  She had told Rachel only last night that she wished Eric would look at her that special way, that way a man looked at a woman when he loved her.  Yes, he'd said he did before, but she could never believe him.  They were apart for months, they hardly ever exchanged letters, and even when she secretly wanted him to do something he would hardly even kiss her cheek.  Once or twice on her lips but... it was nothing significant.  Soon he'd be engaged to some northern girl and she'd just become Jessalyn, little sister of his future business partner and girl he used to flirt with.  That was the thought that she always reminded herself of.  But even when she did that now, it... it didn't stop that tingling feeling in her stomach.  It was so strange... and yet so...  Jessalyn took a deep breath and then pushed herself off the wall, walking back down the hall to find Rachel again.  She didn't know what just happened but it had flipped everything upside down...