Promises
by Starhawk

"No!" she cried, and the sound of her own anguished voice brought her awake with a start.

She stared around wildly, not even recognizing her surroundings. Everything was too dark, the shadows hiding things she didn't want to think about, and she twisted her head to the side as she realized her hand was still restrained.

She drew in a sharp breath as she caught sight of the same figure that had haunted her dreams, his blue eyes wide with concern as he stared back at her. "Cassie?" he whispered, his tone laced with unguarded hope.

This was real. *It was a dream,* she thought, *only a dream.* But she knew it had not been, not all of it--she remembered everything, and it had been all too real, and there was no way to change any of it.

But he was here. He was real, and there was no hatred in his eyes. There was only the most open expression she'd ever seen on his face, one of desperate and unashamed hope that whatever the sorceress had done had been successful.

She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him and feeling him crush her against him so hard it hurt. It was the sweetest pain she'd ever felt.

***

Confusion, fear, and an overriding sense of guilt assaulted him, her emotions battering against his mind, and he held her tighter. *Cassie,* he thought, again and again, incapable of anything more coherent.

"Saryn?" he heard her whisper, and he had to remind himself to do more than just feel.

"Yes?" he managed to answer at last. It had been years since anyone's feelings had overwhelmed him this way, and he struggled to remember how to deal with it.

"Saryn, I'm so sorry," she murmured, her tone miserable and her feelings even worse as they intruded on his mind to a degree he hadn't known since Lyris.

"It's all right," he whispered, trying not to forget himself. *I am Saryn,* he thought, the exercises Lyris had taught him reasserting themselves automatically. *I am one, not many. I am Sa--*

The thought dissolved as Cassie's distress overrode all ability to reason. "It's not," she muttered, her embrace tightening. "It's not all right--Saryn, how could I have *done* all the things I remember doing?"

"It--" He tried to clear his mind, found he couldn't. The old exercises were too vague, the old skills rusty from disuse. "It wasn't you." He only just got the words out, hoping it was the right thing to say.

"But it *was*," she insisted, still not letting him go. "It *was* me, and I didn't care. Everything that matters now just didn't matter then…"

Now she did loosen her arms and he let her draw back just enough to turn her head and look at him. "Except you," she said softly, her eyes seeming to plead with him. "I'm so sorry…"

She wanted forgiveness, he thought distantly, staring into her eyes. Or he wanted *her* forgiveness--it was so hard to tell. He had forgotten how all-encompassing true empathy was.

Either way, he thought there was one thing he had to say, more important than anything else, that couldn't wait any longer. "Cassie--" And it *was* Cassie. He could spend the rest of the night staring into her eyes, just reassuring himself of that. "I love you."

He could feel her relief invading his soul, peace washing over him like a wave on the shore. Whatever she might have feared, the thought that he might not be able to see past the last two days was obviously the worst. There was only one more thing she needed now--or was it him?

He didn't care. He closed the minute distance between them, kissing her lips gently. She relaxed the rest of the way, her body melting against his the way it had not when she--wasn't herself. He couldn't even bring himself to think of her as evil, even now that it was over.

*Over forever,* he thought firmly, sliding his hands over her back and leaning into her return kiss with a passion he had meant to control. Never again would he have to deny himself her sweet touch, and never did he want to.

The pent-up feelings of the last two days came crashing back, and he kissed her harder as they demanded release. He remembered every look, every touch they'd shared, every time he had lost his own private battle and ended up letting her kiss him, or kissing her himself. And every time he had been about to give himself up to her, no matter the consequences, something would interrupt.

*No more,* his mind insisted, his body feverish where it pressed against hers. She seemed as eager as he was, and her hands, still so innocent of their effect on him, were devastating to his self-control.

He wanted his shirt off, wanted to feel her skin on his, but he couldn't pull his mouth away from hers long enough to do anything about it. She didn't protest when he pushed her backwards, gravity and their unbreakable embrace pulling him with her onto the bed. Her fingers slid through his hair, and it was all he could do to suppress a moan. It had been days since she had done that, and he longed to return the favor.

"Saryn," she gasped, as he started to push her shirt up. He was so lost in the feeling of *her* that her next word barely even registered. "Wait…"

Her words said one thing, but her body said another, and he was in no mood to listen to her words. "Why?" he murmured, kissing her neck as she turned her face away from him.

"I--I didn't--"

He loved her voice. He reached out and tilted her head back toward him so he could kiss her lips, a futile attempt to capture the sound that brought so much joy. She shifted, and with her movement his kiss deepened, grew harder and more wild.

For the briefest second, she responded, and coherent thought fled. He wanted Cassie, and she wanted him--

And then she tore herself away, muttering, "I didn't--take my pill this morning."

"I don't care," he whispered, kissing her bare skin as far as the neckline of her t-shirt would allow. He felt a tremor take her body as he deliberately played on her weaknesses, needing her to want him, needing *her* more than anything in the universe.

"I do," she sighed. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, and it was with a feeling close to despair that he understood what she was saying.

"*I* care," she repeated, more loudly. Dismay turned to horror as he realized he wasn't listening. He knew beyond a doubt that she meant it; the feeling of needing to stop before things got out of control could only be hers. But he could feel her desire, too, her yearning for him, and it was as intoxicating as his own feelings for her.

"Saryn…" She tried to push him away, and he felt a flicker of fear echo through their link when he wouldn't let go.

The fear was hers, and it hit him like a slap in the face. *What am I *doing*?* He jerked away, scrambling to sit up and keep himself from even looking at her. Lyris's training picked that moment to reassert itself, and his feelings started to reluctantly separate from hers.

*He* had been the one to start this. She had just wanted him to hold her; he knew that now, and he had read more into it only because he wanted to. And even if she had not protested at the time, he had no right to ignore her when she *did* object.

Gods, she was still so new to this--she still didn't understand the power she had over him. He knew that was no excuse, anymore than he could blame his actions on the empathy that suddenly seemed to magnify every feeling beyond his ability to contain it. After all, she had always had this sensitivity to him, and she had never let it overwhelm her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, still not able to look at her. He was the one with empathic training, and though it was easy to forget, she *was* the younger of them. And yet it was always he who was getting out of control. "I hate that you have to--" He closed his eyes. "You should not need to tell me twice."

"You--you hate what?" she asked tentatively, and he knew she had misunderstood the sentence he hadn't finished. She thought he was upset with *her*.

He heard her move behind him, and he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder at her. She had turned on her side, propping herself up on her elbow with her hair falling over her shoulder. Her wide dark eyes begged him to keep talking, and it was an entreaty he couldn't ignore.

"No," he assured her hastily, "you are right to stop me--I hate only that it is so hard. When you do not want me so close, I hate that I hesitate before respecting your wishes. I wish--" He realized abruptly that his hand was drifting toward her again, and he placed it determinedly on the bed. "I wish you did not have to worry that I will do as you say."

"You--" He saw her blush, looking down at the bed and tracing a star pattern with her finger. "You're not my slave, Saryn."

He could only stare at her. She had no idea how far from the truth that simple statement was. *I want nothing more than your happiness,* he thought, wondering how she could not know.

"But I am," he breathed, and saw her head come up.

He swallowed, realizing how that sounded and not wanting to scare her. "In this, at least," he said in a more normal voice, "I ought to be. If it is not something we both want, it should not happen."

"But it is--I didn't *want* to tell you no," she said quietly. "It's just--I missed one of my pills. I can't take that chance."

"Nor would I want you to," he promised, unable to stop himself from reaching out to her this time. He caught her fingers, stilling them. "You should not have had to remind me--I am sorry."

She blinked, and he noticed the tears in her eyes for the first time. "It's my fault, anyway," she whispered. "I know how I acted today. Every time you turned around, I…" She blushed again, looking away. "I was all over you," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her fingers twitched in his, and he gladly took the excuse to lower his gaze to their joined hands. "I did not resist to any significant degree," he admitted ruefully.

"I had this stupid idea that I could control you that way," she muttered miserably. "I thought somehow you still loved me, even though you hated who I was, and that if I made you choose you'd choose me."

He lifted his eyes, staring at her in surprise. "You *wanted* me to choose you? You--wanted me with you?"

She glanced in his direction, her gaze catching his. "Well, yeah," she said, as though it was obvious. "In a greedy, selfish sort of way. I knew you hated what I was doing, and I thought maybe if I could get you to leave, with me, we could find a place where you wouldn't hate me so much."

"I *never* hated you," he said, startled. "I didn't stop loving you just because you were--different. I tried--I did try. But I couldn't…"

She looked so lost, but he could feel her wanting to believe. He *had* to touch her then, and he tried to think of some way to do it without making her think he was pressuring her into something else. Finally he just lifted their clasped hands and kissed her fingers.

He could see her remembering the time, hours ago now, when he had done exactly the same thing, and it seemed to reassure her in a way his words did not. "I did choose you," he whispered, not sure she wanted to know. He could only hope that telling her was the right thing to do. "You said you were trying to make me choose--you, or what I knew was right.

"I chose you." He kissed her fingers again, wishing he could trust himself to lean closer and kiss her lips.

She looked at him, wide-eyed, and he couldn't help smiling a little. "You must have known," he told her, lifting his other hand to uncurl her fingers from his.

She straightened her fingers herself when she realized what he was doing, and he laid his cheek against her palm. "I helped you escape twice," he said softly, staring into her eyes. "Do you think I could justify that to myself as something that was right? I did it because I loved you, because I couldn't live without you."

"But it wasn't really me," she said wonderingly, her eyes soft as she gazed back at him.

"Believe me, I knew that." He closed his eyes for a moment, but he found that he couldn't stand not being able to see her. As his eyes snapped open again, he caught an expression of sorrow on her face. "But being with you--with her--let me pretend that you were still here somehow, still loving me…"

She pulled her hand away from his face, putting her hands behind her to push herself into a sitting position. He reached out automatically to help her, his hand lingering on her waist even as she pulled one leg closer to her and twisted to face him.

"I *did* still love you," she murmured, smiling tentatively at him. "I didn't care about anyone--but somehow, I cared about you. I didn't want to lose you…"

"I thought you were just manipulating me," he admitted, searching her expression.

"And you still helped me?"

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her. "I had to," he whispered, seeing her hand reach for his. He surrendered it willingly, fighting the urge to lean closer. "I love you."

"I love you too," she breathed, squeezing his hand. "But to give up everything, just to--be with me?"

He smiled, teasing her to distract himself from the look of tender amazement in her eyes. "Are you saying you would not do the same for me?"

"I came to Aquitar," she reminded him softly.

His smile faded. "Was it that hard for you? I am sorry; I should not have asked you to come--"

"If you hadn't," she interrupted, "I probably would have gone crazy. I had to be with you somehow…" She trailed off, maybe realizing that she was echoing his words.

"I would have stayed, Cassie," he murmured, putting his free hand over hers. "I would have stayed with you on Earth."

She swallowed. "I know," she said softly. "I had no idea that would only be the first time you'd be willing to give up--your whole life, practically, for me."

"I have always been willing to do that," he told her honestly, squeezing her hands. "When will you believe that I love you, and would do anything for you?"

"I know you love me," she said, looking away. "I love you too, more than anything."

There was something she wasn't saying. She had always known when he wasn't telling the truth, and now he remembered for himself how easy it was to know when someone was hiding something.

"But?" he prompted, troubled that she had doubted for this long and never said anything.

"Nothing," she said, turning wide eyes on him. She looked for all the world as though she had no idea what he was talking about. Her guileless expression might even have convinced him, if his awareness of her emotions had not been so strong that Lyris's mantra had been running through his mind for the last few minutes in an attempt to keep her from overwhelming him.

"It is not nothing," he insisted, gazing intently at her. "There is something you wish me to do… and you will not ask?"

She flinched, and he knew that was it. He lifted her hands, then let them fall again, helpless. "Cassie--you know I would do anything for you."

She looked down. "That's why I can't ask," she murmured, and he remembered, with startling clarity, the last time she had said that.

"You wanted me to stay," he said suddenly. "The last time you said you couldn't ask me to do something, that was it, was it not? You wanted me to stay with you, but you would not ask."

She nodded wordlessly.

He reached out to tap her chin with one finger. "I offered to stay anyway," he reminded her gently.

She swallowed. "Without me asking," she pointed out, not looking up. "You've never offered to do this on your own."

He was so focused on her that he couldn't tell if the growing sense of dismay belonged to him or her. *Maybe both…* "Cassie," he pleaded. "Please tell me--perhaps it simply never occurred to me."

He winced, realizing as he said it that if this was so important to her, suggesting he had not even thought of it might not be the most comforting thing to say. She just shook her head. "I'm sure it hasn't," she agreed quietly.

"Cassie…" He didn't know what else to say.

She squeezed his hands again and looked up. "It's nothing," she said, with a determined smile. "It really isn't half as important as you're making it out to be--how did we get into this conversation, anyway?"

He wasn't going to let it go this easily. "We 'got into it' because you are hiding something from me."

"I'm not," she said, with a slight frown.

"You are," he insisted. He didn't want to upset her, but he couldn't bear the thought that there was something she wanted from him that he was not doing. "Please, Cassie--I do not know how to convince you, but I can not stand not knowing."

He couldn't interpret the look she gave him, and the only feeling he knew for certain was hers was--guilt. He didn't understand, until she admitted, "It's selfish. I can't tell you… especially now."

He felt as though she had hit him. "Especially now?" he repeated. She was retreating from him, and he had no idea how to follow.

Cassie must have seen his dismay, for she pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around him without a thought for what had happened the last time. He felt even worse, then--not only was she picking up on his needs while he was so miserably failing with hers, but she was offering comfort and all he could think of was how good it would feel to kiss her.

"You're so *not* selfish," she whispered, still holding him. "You keep saying you'll do anything, and I know you would, but I could never ask for anything more than to just have you."

"I told you once," he murmured, amazed that she could think him unselfish, "that there was only one thing I wanted more than you."

"Did you?" she asked, pulling away to regard him worriedly. "What?"

"Your happiness," he reminded her softly. "Making you happy makes *me* happy, and in that way, it is the most selfish thing I will ever do."

She sighed, but he saw a smile tugging at her lips. "Once," she confessed, "I would have laughed at a guy who said something like that. But--" She placed her hand lightly over his heart, and he struggled to keep his breathing even, to not let her know what her nearness was doing to him. "I believe you when you say it. And it's all I want for you, too--happiness."

"Then *tell* me what you would not ask," he whispered. "Without knowing, how can I be content?"

He saw her hesitate, and he caught the hand that still rested on his chest. "Please, Cassie--it will drive me crazy if I do not know."

"I just--" She took a deep breath, then burst out, "I want us to be normal!"

He stared, forgetting to breathe. That was one thing he would never be able to offer her, and he wondered if that was why she hadn't wanted to tell him. He was not of her world, and there was no changing that.

"I am sorry I am not the person you wanted to love," he managed to say, drawing in an unsteady breath. "I--this bond--it is not a decision, it simply happens." It hurt to say, but he had done it before and he would do it again, for her. "If I could--I would end it, that you might be free to choose."

She was staring back at him, easily readable shock on her face. Before he could wonder why, she leaned forward and hugged him hard. "No, Saryn, no," she murmured, her arms warm and welcome as she continued to hold him.

Slowly, he let his own arms slip around her, letting his head rest gently against hers. "No," she repeated, and he smiled involuntarily at the sound of her quiet voice so close to his ear. "Saryn, that's not what I meant at *all*. I would never in a million years give you up, ever. I've *never* wished that I loved someone else--how could you even think that?"

She rushed on, not giving him a chance to answer. "Maybe sometimes I've wished things were different, that you didn't have to be 'the Phantom Ranger' to the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, but I don't want anyone but you.

"I love you--I love Saryn, and I love the Phantom Ranger. They're the same person to me… I've wished sometimes that they didn't have to be so separate, but I have never, ever wished that I didn't love either of them."

Her vehemence was as endearing as it was reassuring, and his smile did not fade. "Thank you," he whispered, unable to tell her how much that meant to him. She didn't always say what was on her mind, and he had wondered, once or twice, if there were times she just went along with what he wanted because it was easier than not.

"Thank *you*," she answered, sounding a little surprised but not loosening her embrace. "You're all I've ever dreamed of, you know."

"No," he managed to answer. "I did not know that." He might not be able to find the words, but he had to *try* to tell her how happy it made him to hear that. "I am--relieved, that I can be for you some small part of what you are to me. I will never stop loving you, Cassie."

"I won't stop loving you, either; I *can't*," she told him, hugging him harder. "And I don't want to. Ever."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "I am convinced," he assured her softly, though privately he thought he could let her go on like that for the rest of the night. "And… what you said…"

"I didn't mean it," she said quickly. "I like you just the way you are. I don't care if you're only Saryn when we're alone; I wouldn't have even said anything if you hadn't made me."

"That is precisely what bothers me," he said, drawing away enough for her to see his expression. He wanted her to know he was serious about this. "If I could have one wish, it would be for you to tell me what you want. Do not keep everything inside, Cassie--it is not good for you, and it hurts me to think that you do not believe your feelings are worthwhile."

She swallowed, looking down, but he caught her chin and tipped her face up again. "Do not look away," he said firmly. "Everything about you is worth knowing, and I want to know it. Tell me how I can be both 'Saryn' and 'the Phantom Ranger' to you."

"You *are* both," she said quietly. "To me."

"You wish me to be both to everyone else?" He kept his voice neutral, not disapproving or judgmental. All he wanted was for her to talk to him, as he had always felt comfortable talking to her.

"No," she said reluctantly. "Unless you want to be, I mean. I'm not trying to tell you what to do…"

"Cassie," he interrupted. "I will not take it as such. Tell me what you have been *thinking*, what you would like, and I will decide whether to do it or not. Is that acceptable?"

She nodded slowly, and he realized she was looking away from him again. It took an effort not to force her to look up, but he tightened his fingers on her shoulders and did not move. "Talk to me?" he asked quietly.

She took a deep breath. "I guess… sometimes I wish you didn't have to be 'the Phantom Ranger' *all* the time. On Aquitar, you demorphed when we were alone, but most of the day you'd just be 'Phantom'. I couldn't even touch you…"

"The way you could when we were on the Megaship," he finished softly. He had hated that too, not being able to even *see* her except through his visor when they weren't alone.

She nodded. "But even on the Megaship, we couldn't do that. None of them know about us, except for Ashley…"

The way she said her friend's name made him pause. And something in the feelings that surrounded him made him wonder, "Are you--jealous of Ashley?"

She was startled into meeting his gaze. "What?"

"She and Andros are very close," he said, watching her expression closely. "And they are not afraid to demonstrate their affection."

"And we can't," she said, obviously frustrated. "You're almost always morphed, and even when you're not, when we're on the Megaship, I'm afraid of what the others will think!"

He was quiet for a minute. "What to do about the rest of your team is of course your decision," he said finally. "Although I do not believe they would disapprove, you know them better and I will continue to support whatever you decide.

"As for always being morphed--" He hesitated only a moment. "I can change that. If that is what you think of as the difference between 'Saryn' and 'the Phantom Ranger', it is easy enough to correct. I will reveal my identity to anyone who might know me as Phantom, and there will be no more reason for me to stay morphed all the time."

"No!" Cassie exclaimed. "You can't!"

He had almost expected her objection and he had freed an arm from her embrace even before she spoke. Pressing two fingers against her lips, he shook his head. "I can, and I will. There is no need for me to continue to hide my identity."

*Especially when it threatens our relationship,* he thought fervently, but he did not say the words. He knew she would not like him doing it for her, but if he could convince her that there was no reason for him *not* to do it, she might agree.

"There *is* need," she insisted, pulling his hand away and twining her fingers through his. "Phantom is practically a legend in some places; even I know that. You've taught me enough that I can see that's an advantage to you in some kinds of politics, and to reveal yourself would diminish that.

"Not to mention bring up questions about Saryn," she added when he did not interrupt. "Remember how curious Zhane was? A lot of people will want to know exactly what happened on Elisia, and you've said yourself that the League doesn't have time to be distracted by political intrigue right now. You telling everyone who you are would be like 'political intrigue' times ten."

His lips twitched, and he tried not to smile. He had not realized she had been paying so much attention when he explained the details of the League to her.

"You can laugh," she warned. "But you know I'm right. You have to keep being Phantom--just Phantom, not Phantom-who-used-to-be-Elisia's-Ranger-team-leader."

Now he did smile, a little surprised that the mention of his old team brought with it no twinge of pain or guilt. But considering that was not as important as this discussion with Cassie, and he didn't give it another thought.

"What about the Aquitians, then?" he asked. "The Aquitian Rangers all know, now--"

She looked away, and he winced. He wished he could have found a better way to remind her of that, but he had not taken time to think about it. "I'm sorry," she said softly, self-reproach evident even in her quiet tone. "I don't know what I was *thinking*--"

"You were not thinking, not as you are now," he said firmly. "You were different; your perceptions, your very personality was altered. You can not be held accountable for your actions."

Her fingers tightened on his, and he couldn't help himself. He leaned closer and kissed her temple, very gently, and pulled away before it could turn into anything more. She glanced up at him, and to his relief she smiled a little.

"Cetaci came to speak to me afterwards," he told her quietly. It occurred to him all of a sudden that there was a lot Cassie simply didn't know, and he would have to fill her in--later. "She told me that the entire Aquitian team has sworn to protect my identity--and your own team, as well, although I think they might have remained silent of their own accord."

She nodded quickly. "None of us would tell--would have told," she amended. "Except maybe Zhane… but you said he promised too?"

"Yes. Everyone in the control room, or so Cetaci said." It hadn't surprised him at the time; he had been too emotionally numb to feel anything. Now, however, the gesture both startled and pleased him. He would have expected them to be upset with such a deception, but instead they had simply accepted it, not questioning his wishes or his motives.

"That was nice of them," Cassie murmured. "It makes me think--I never promised, did I?"

He didn't let her complete that train of thought. Pulling her into a fierce hug, he told her softly, "I would not take such a promise from you. I have never doubted your judgement, and the information is yours to do with as you please."

"I won't tell," she whispered anyway. "I don't have to swear--I just won't tell."

"I know," he whispered back, letting his hand smooth her soft hair against her back. He wanted to bring up the Aquitians again, but if he said anything now, he was afraid it would sound like an accusation.

Instead, he just held her, feeling her heartbeat against his chest. This was all he had wished for since he had seen a ship he had thought was hers explode into fragments of metal and atmosphere. He savored the moment, wishing for just a second that it could last forever.

Then she moved a little, her hair sliding across his hand and her breath warming his neck as she sighed. He pulled away with an effort, reminding himself not to tempt fate by kissing her now.

She smiled at him, brushing his hair away from his face with her fingers, and he swallowed. "The Aquitians," he said hastily, wishing he could pull his gaze away from hers somehow. "They do know, now, and they have given their word that they will not say anything.

"We are there on Aquitar most of the time, when we are not on the Megaship--I am there," he corrected, remembering with a pang that she had school to attend now. "There is no reason not to demorph around *them*."

She nodded slowly. "You're right, I guess," she said, her eyes not leaving his. "If--if you feel comfortable with it, if you want to--"

"Cassie, I would not have offered if I was not willing to do it," he said, a little impatient. "When we are together on Aquitar, as on the Megaship, I will demorph."

"Only when it's just the Aquitian Rangers who are around," she added, and he tried not to smile at her care in establishing conditions. Either she had some political inclination of her own, or he had been boring her for far too long with League and Defense talk.

"I will demorph whenever there are none present but those who already know of my identity," he said, watching for her reaction.

She appeared to seriously consider it before nodding. "That sounds good," she said, her expression solemn.

"To me, too," he agreed in a whisper. He found himself staring into her eyes, no longer able to ignore their closeness. He wanted badly to kiss her, but instead he disentangled himself from her arms and moved a little distance away. "You did us a favor by revealing me to the Aquitians, it seems."

Her hand settled on his shoulder. "I never meant to hurt you," she said guiltily. "I'm so sorry--"

"I am not," he interrupted. "Not if it means I will be able touch you when they are around."

He glanced at her when her fingers clenched on his shoulder, and he saw an odd look flash across her face. "I forgot to tell you--Billy saw us, that morning in the control room."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday morning--" She looked bemused. "Or the day before, I'm not sure anymore. When I came in, and you were alone, and you demorphed. We kissed--and Billy came into the control room a few minutes later."

He nodded. "I remember. But Billy did not enter until after we had separated."

She cleared her throat. "Well, that's sort of true. He didn't *enter* until then… but he stuck his head into the room and saw us together first. He disappeared before I could say anything, and a few seconds later I heard him whistling from the other end of the hallway."

He shook his head, amused. "He was trying to respect our privacy by warning us that he was there before we noticed him. It is an Aquitian practice, not to intrude on--private moments. I have noticed it is not so common among humans."

A smile spread across her face. "That's certainly true," she agreed. "We're a pretty uncivilized bunch."

"That is not what I meant," he said quickly, but she didn't look upset.

"I know," she whispered, leaning toward him. "But I don't think I'd do this if I were Aquitian."

She kissed him hard, strangely careful not to touch him. Only their mouths melded together. He braced his arms on the edge of the bed and leaned into the kiss, feeling sensation ignite all over his body despite her physical distance. He knew instinctively that she would pull away if he tried to touch her anywhere but on the lips, but her kiss sorely tested his restraint.

"No," he agreed breathlessly, wishing he could stop her from pulling away. "And I am glad you are not."

"Me too," she said, glancing down at her hands as though she had no idea how much he was holding back. It was as though she couldn't tell how hard it was to concentrate with her so close by, as though she didn't know what her constant teasing had done to him through the course of the day.

"I'm glad to be *me* again," she added, looking up and smiling at him. "But--" She frowned uncertainly. "Was that--*Astronema* who teleported in here, a little while ago?"

He drank in the sight of her, trying to convince himself that it was enough. He didn't even realize she was expecting an answer until the silence went on a little too long. His memory managed to come up with the last words she had uttered, and he nodded quickly.

"That was Astronema," he agreed. "She was 'the sorceress' that Zhane kept referring to."

Cassie's eyes were wide. "But how did he convince her to help us? To help me?"

He had been wondering that himself. "I do not know," he admitted. "He implied that he had known her for some time, even said that she had some connection to KO-35. But I know none of the details."

"Zhane knows Astronema," Cassie repeated wonderingly. "I wonder why he never told us. And what could he have meant about KO-35?"

He only shook his head, watching and feeling her growing curiosity. *I am one,* he reminded himself, the fragment of Lyris's mantra running through his mind. But the attempt was half-hearted, for he did not feel like expending the effort necessary to keep their feelings separate.

It was pleasant, in some ways, to have her emotions mingle with his. And when he could not hold her, this was the next best thing…

"Ashley could tell us," Cassie was saying. "She always knows what's going on. Where is she, anyway?"

As she looked around as though she expected her friend to materialize from the walls at any moment, he took a deep breath. His mind suddenly and unexpectedly cooperated, focusing on the small amount of information he had on what had occurred and wondering just what to tell her. He didn't want her to have to deal with recent events so soon after her recovery, but at the same time, there was no other way to answer her question.

"She is not on the Megaship," he said finally, seeing Cassie turn a sharp look in his direction. "Andros--disappeared in the Delta Megaship last night, and as I understand it, Ashley took the shuttle to go looking for him."

"What?!" Cassie stared at him. "Wait. Start at the beginning. Andros disappeared?"

He sighed. "I am sorry. I wish I could tell you more, but I was somewhat--distracted at the time. All I know of what has happened I have learned from Zhane, and the two of us do not communicate as well as we could."

"That's the understatement of the year," she said with some asperity. She swung her legs over the edge of the patient bed and straightened her back.

"Where are you going?" he asked, recognizing her intent.

"To find Zhane," she said firmly. "I want to know what's going on."

"Are you certain that is a good idea?" He reached for her arm, meaning to support her if she needed it. "It's late--he is probably trying to sleep."

She looked at him in surprise. "Is there something you don't want me to know, or did you just show concern for Zhane?"

"It has been a long day for him as well," he muttered, avoiding both questions. He couldn't answer the first, and he would hardly admit to the second.

The look she gave him said she knew perfectly well what he was thinking. "Maybe," she agreed. "All right; I'll talk to him in the morning. But I'm not giving up that easily."

He knew he was in trouble when she glanced up at the camera mounted on the wall near the door. "DECA?" she demanded. "Where are Andros and Ashley?"