He found that the longer he listened, the more relaxed he became. He interjected only when necessary with little comments to show her that he was interested, content instead to let her ramble and tell him cute stories and anecdotes that made him grin lazily at her. She became quite animated, and he found her mannerisms fascinating; he watched her hands flitter in the air as she told him about her home. Jor wished he had the same enthusiasm for his family, but it was enough to hear hers.

Eventually he had to stop eating, mostly because Heather had long ago finished and even Jor wasn't so rude as to sit there all night. When the check came, he was oddly disappointed, and it wasn't until they'd walked through the corridors and reached her room that he realized why.

I enjoy her company. She's... she's different. And I like that.

"Maybe we... could do it again sometime?"

Jor looked down at her upturned face, looked down into those big, brown eyes, and knew exactly what his answer was going to be.

"Yeah." He moved closer, and she took a step back before blushing and looking down at the floor. He wasn't used to hesitance, but it just didn't seem right to be anything but gentle, and that gave him pause. "I have to work tomorrow, but the night after that, I'll be there at six again. Alright?"

She wavered slightly when he pulled away, and she didn't want to open her eyes. With her eyes closed she could still feel his lips against hers; it had been one of the most chaste kisses she'd ever had the joy to participate in, but she could still feel its effects in her fingers and toes and the back of her neck. When she finally dragged her eyelids open, he was looking down at her with pleased affection, and she shivered and gave him a small, shaken smile in return.

No bruises, no blood, and when she whispered consent, Jor couldn't help himself. He kissed her again.

This one lasted a little longer, and he was a bit breathless too by the end. It was so tempting to do more, to want more, but he backed away a few steps and gave her a smile.

"Goodnight."

Heather had no particular interest in motorcycles, but after Jor's display of interest in her over Susan - over Susan, for God's sake, who'd modeled her way through college - she would have been ready to buy him one.

"That sounds great," she said with a smile. "I don't know a lot about them, though. We don't have to outfit those very often." Her smile became a touch playful as she walked with him out into the hallway. "Do you think you could catch me up before it starts?"

She'd been half-joking, but he spent most of dinner giving her all the information he knew. Heather was good at her job; she knew the parts and statistics for over a hundred vessel classes. The data Jor was giving her wasn't as organized as the reports she was used to reviewing, but it was a lot more interesting, and she had no trouble retaining it. He seemed absolutely thrilled that she could ask questions about it and repeat back what he'd told her, and the light in his eyes was more than worth the movie.

It's not shallow, it's exciting. The physics might be a little off...but it does make it more...exciting. And it was. The makers of the movie didn't really abide by reality concerning the motorcycles they were using, but she allowed for the possibility that every machine the main character approached had been heavily modified and upgraded beforehand. She even laughed on her own a few times, and not just at the wildly unlikely stunts and special effects, and Jor liked it immensely.

When it was over, they walked back to her room while he chattered and she listened, interjecting agreement when he looked at her. It was fun to see him so animated, and she didn't even notice they'd arrived until Jor stopped walking. She grinned up at him and he kissed her.

It was a long time before they parted, and she was breathless, her heart racing as she looked up at him, a little dazed.

Ask him.

His arms were around her waist, and her hands clung to his shoulders all by themselves. His gaze made her dizzy, and she returned it with shrinking uncertainty and a complete lack of artifice.

Ask him.

"Mmmmhmmm," he hummed at her in the back of his throat, kissing her again and tightening his arms around her. She was light, easy to move, and Jor released a hand only long enough to take her own and touch it to the lockpad beside her door. The door slid open, he picked her a few inches off the ground, and two steps later they were inside her room.

Heather had never made love in the light before. It made her self-conscious, but Jor didn't give her time to be nervous. It was as if he knew it would be easier for her if he didn't give her too much time to think. He was as splendid to look at without clothes as he'd been with them, but it was his eyes that held her attention. They were warm and entirely intent on her, and they mesmerized her until it was too late for her to be uncomfortable. Jor was not her first lover, but it was far different from her previous experiences; he was quite careful of her, not at all like Susan had predicted. When it was over they held each other, and Heather was happier than she could ever remember being.

You can't fall in love with someone in three weeks. Not possible, not happening...but it feels like it.

She was dozing lightly when he pulled gently away, and she woke up and looked after him a little sadly, but he was only going for the light switch. Her incipient frown turned into a sleepy smile. There was a tattoo of the IF symbol on his back, between his shoulder blades, and when he returned he was malleable enough to let her push him onto his stomach. She rubbed his back for him, and he made a noise she took for approval until her fingers touched the tattoo. He flinched, and she yanked her hand back, but not before noticing that what she'd taken for a tattoo was raised slightly, and utterly black, too black to be ink.

It was a brand.

A strange sense of satisfaction hovered over him, strange only in that he'd had very little previous opportunity to experience it. There was nothing brutal or cruel or domineering about it, but rather something... gentle. That was rarely a word used to describe anything about Jor, but he'd treated Heather as carefully as if he were afraid she could break, and part of him enjoyed leaving unmarred skin when he was done with his love.

She dozed against him, and he stroked her hair lightly, noticing how his tanned skin blended in with her hair. The lack of contrast between them was fascinating, and he amused himself with petting her until he began to grow sleepy. The light still shined in the room, and so as not to awaken her, he tried his best to slip out of bed and turn off the overhead light.

Heather was smiling at him when he returned to bed, pushing him over and beginning to work on his back with nimble fingers as soon as he laid down again. Jor growled in appreciation and was just beginning to relax when her fingertips brushed over the spot between his shoulder blades, and he recoiled.

No one on Elisabeta knew of the brand, no one had seen it, no one had touched it, and Jor wasn't willing to share its presence, even with Lei. It was a private injury, something from the days of Command School that was meant to be hidden and kept to himself, and when Heather touched him, Jor didn't know what to do.

He remembered night, Rabin bloody, riot gear and angry fighting, then the gun against his temple and carrying Wick away. He remembered the assembly of students as they watched him and Rabin, the searing pain, Johan's expression, and the look in Wick's eyes as she stared at him from amongst the others. He remembered hating everyone and everything until he reconciled himself to the injury, recognized it for what it was, and appreciated it for the promise it became.

It meant I'd do anything for you, spark. Anything. What does it mean now, when I couldn't keep the promise?

"Don't," he whispered to Heather, gathering her in his arms to comfort her. Don't cry. Don't be scared. And don't touch it. She burrowed against him, and he sighed. He didn't know what to do to reassure her, and he didn't know how he could explain it.

She put it out her mind and closed her eyes. Their activity from earlier in the evening had made her sleepy, and falling asleep next in Jor's arms was the one of the most incredible experiences she'd ever had.

First he'd been angry, and he'd stormed from the restaurant. Next he was happy, as his friends bombarded him with welcomes and free drinks. Then he was depressed, as he sat staring at his wedding band and thinking of Wick. Finally he was just plain drunk, and in this state he let Lei clumsily help him from the bar and lead him home.

Halfway there he decided he didn't want to go back to his room; it was cold, and empty, and he suddenly decided he felt like fighting. When Lei refused both his offers of a fistfight and his attempts at seduction, Jor huffed angrily and stormed off, if staggering down the corridors and cursing to himself could be called storming.

It took him almost a half hour to get to Heather's room, and he was well past irritated when he finally pounded his fist against the door. There was stirring inside, and then the door slid open, and Jor stared down at her little worried face and knew what he was going to do.

A knock at her door woke her. Stiff and uncomfortable from her upright snoozing, she blinked sleepily at looked at the clock. 02:18, it informed her briskly. Her mind was sluggish, but she stumbled out of her chair and winced a little as she got used to being uncrunched and walked clumsily toward the door.

Jor was behind it, and she peered up at him hesitantly. The scent of alcohol hit her then, and the look on his face, and then he moved through the doorway and lifted her bodily. The room tilted at an angle, and she saw the door shut and then carpet. She yelped in surprise. She'd known Jor was strong - anyone could see that - but until now, he'd never really displayed it. She gasped as she landed on the bed, too disoriented to react. She heard him shifting in the dark, and then one of his hands landed on her shoulder as the other one wound into her shirt. He yanked, and she felt the seams rip and came completely awake.

"Ouch! Jor, wait, please?" She felt his breath on her neck and sighed, starting to relax, and then he bit at her and she yelped again and tightened up. He kissed her then, and she returned it a little uncertainly, her arms going around him automatically. She tried to keep up, but he was too fast, and when it was over he wouldn't even let her move enough to get comfortable. Eventually he fell asleep and she was able to readjust enough to snuggle against him tentatively. He grunted in his sleep and mumbled something, but he didn't pull away, and she laid her head on his shoulder and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

At least he's not angry with me anymore.

He was aware that he was in bed, still partially clothed; that much was uncomfortable, as the loose end of his belt buckle dug into his side. With a growl he rolled onto his stomach, buried his face into the pillow, and when the pillow took a deep breath, he realized that maybe he wasn't quite where he thought he was.

He opened his eyes to find himself wrapped around someone, a slender throat and a vivid blue-black mark of bruise and bite plainly imprinted in the skin. Ah. He knew where he was. Familiarity reassured him, and Jor sighed in contentment and murmured her name. "Mmm... spark."

"Jor?"

That wasn't her voice.

Startled, Jor blinked again and pulled away, his body protesting the sudden movement with a ferocious headache. Disoriented, he swatted blindly at the little specks that edged his vision, and looked over to meet great brown eyes with his own unfocused green gaze.

Spark?

He only lay with her for a few minutes. He seemed a little tense, but she did what she could to help him when he got up. She found him his clothes and handed him his boots. He was unusually quiet, but his farewell embrace was the same tender, gentle embrace he'd always given her, his kiss warm and soft, and she sighed and melted against him. He'd just been in a bad mood; whatever it had been was gone now, and if he was a little uncomfortable it was because he was afraid she was angry with him. The apology, his affection, they were both more than evident in his goodbye, and she gave him a reassuring smile as he left.

Once he was gone, however, she became more aware of how sore her neck was. She went into her bathing area and looked into the mirror, and what she saw made her gasp. Her neck had a dark bruise, surrounded by angry marks where Jor's teeth had sunk in. She touched her neck gingerly and bit her lip. My god. I can't go to work like this. Maybe my collar will cover it. How could it? She ran to her closet and brought back one of her uniform jackets, pulling it on and buttoning the top two buttons with trembling fingers. To her relief, the collar cleared it by an eighth of an inch, and she sagged back against the wall and began to cry.

"We need to talk," said Susan decisively, and Heather fell back a step to allow her friend in. Susan stepped right toward her and caught her arm with one hand. The door closed behind them, and Heather blinked in shock as Susan reached up with her other hand and tugged her collar down. Her eyebrows drew together in concern and she let the startled Heather go, her eyes locked on the bruise at her neck. Self-conscious, Heather brushed her collar back into place with a now-practiced gesture and stood a little straighter, trying to look defiant.

"What's going on, Heather?"

Under her best friend's scrutiny, Heather's defensiveness dissolved, and she burst into tears. Susan gathered her close in a hug, and sat her down on the bed. "I saw that yesterday," she admitted gently, stroking Heather's hair. "I'm glad I decided to say something. How long has this been going on, hmm? He wasn't like that to begin with. I'd have known." Heather's sniffles eased up, and Susan sighed. "Come on, let's hear it."

Heather told her. She told her everything that had happened since the first night Jor had come to see her drunk. She told her about the bruises and the roughness, and the tenderness he always displayed afterwards. She even told her about him calling her spark. She didn't know what it meant, but she was too upset to hold anything back, and after she was done Sue was quiet for a while.

"Do you love him?" she asked at last.

"I don't know," she said tearfully. "I think so."

"Then you're going to have to talk to him about it," Susan said decisively. "Before this gets out of hand."

Heather sniffled and nodded again, and Sue stroked her hair.

She knocked, but someone other than Heather answered.

Lei did her best not to make eyes at the woman who stood in the doorway and instead rubbed at the back of her neck nervously, shifting from foot to foot before finally getting up the initiative to speak. "Uh, hey. Is Pennington there?"

"You are...?"

"Lei Bentham. Uh... I'm Jorry's partner. Is she there?"

Heather looked godawful when Lei came into the room; her eyes were red and wet, and Lei recognized someone who'd been crying when she saw her. Shit. Maybe Jorry had gotten here first. That thought was anything but reassuring, and she tried to think of a tactful way to say what she intended to but failed, and just finally blurted it out.

Well, there was that idea down the drain. Damnit, and Lei had thought it was a good reason for Jor's distemper, too. She looked at Heather more closely, trying to see anything that might give an indication of something amiss, and when her sharp eyes spotted the faintest edge of a bruise, she sighed.

"Shit. He did that, didn't he?" Heather looked startled, but Lei gestured toward her throat. "Bruise, or bite, or something. I can see it, y'know. Was he just here? He stormed out of our office, and I thought maybe, I dunno, that maybe he'd been here. You guys been getting along? I mean, I know you're his girlfriend and stuff, and he probably tells you more than he tells me, I dunno, but I was just wondering."

"Fine, she's fine," said Susan brusquely. She didn't trust Lei, and she didn't like this interrogation with Heather in the state she was in. For all they knew, Jor had sent Lei in here to do recon, and at the moment Sue didn't feel like giving the girl the benefit of the doubt. "And if you don't mind, we were in the middle of a private conversation. If you have a question for Windhaven, why don't you go ask him yourself?"

"Well, that does it. I'm staying the night. And next time I get to pick the guy. You obviously can't manage it."

Heather gave her a worried, sad look and then went to the little kitchen unit to make dinner.

Later that evening, after Susan was asleep, Heather slipped out of bed and locked herself in the little bathroom to have a nice long silent talk with her reflection.

Hello, Ms. Pennington. That's quite a set of bruises you have on your throat.

Yeah, you should see the ones on my arms.

Do you really think this is wise?

She looked at herself seriously. I have to know. I have to know. I think I love him, Heather, I really do, and I have to know. I can't just hide in here avoiding him for the rest of my life.

Well, you know what's best.

Maybe. Maybe not. But I know what I have to do.

Heather worked and slept and read. She spent a lot of time with Susan, who somehow managed to increase her attention span enough to do everything she could to help her friend get over Jor, and after she'd gotten across that romance was not the solution she was looking for, they had some fun. Rather, Susan had fun, and Heather watched and smiled and wondered when she was going to stop hurting.

Jor was gone. He hadn't come to see her after she'd left his room that morning, and when she finally got the courage up to go see him again, she found out he'd been transferred. It didn't really surprise her; she'd known he was going to go after his wife. She'd even wanted him to. Sort of. She just wished she'd had a chance to tell him goodbye. It felt like there were a million things she'd wanted to tell him that she'd never been able to, and it was hard to convince herself that most of those were probably better left unsaid.

In the middle of the second month she broke down at work and Susan took her home. They stayed up all night, and Susan finally managed to get her friend drunk - really, really drunk. When Heather woke up the next morning she spent the rest of the day coiled on her bathroom floor swearing she'd never do it again, but when the sickness passed she felt empty, completely empty, and that night she slept better than she had in a very long time.

Heather decided to take leave. She hadn't taken any time off for three years, and she wanted to see Earth again. After two months of travelling in a small freighter and a week with her parents, she still had a month and a half before she had to ship out, and she decided to see Europe. She didn't have an extraordinary amount of money, but she had enough for a plane ticket, and assured that she could get to an IF office inside a few days wherever she happened to end up, she flipped a coin and ended up in London.

She learned to deal with people again. It had been a long time since she'd had to make deals without her terminal as a translator, but she found she could still make a pretty good deal. She left London three weeks after she'd arrived with less cash and more confidence and took a ferry across the English Channel to Rouen. France was prettier than England, but fewer people spoke common. She stayed in Rouen for a week until she'd picked up some rudimentary French and then went on to Paris.