Well the first part of this was GOING to be in Chapter Ten, but Word decided that it ONLY like that part of the story. I had to remove it to get the rest of Chapter Ten to post. So I hope you enjoy it.

***

Minus one day to Gregg's test. I'm working busily away at my computer when a pair of brilliant ruby eyes drop into my view. With a scream I fall backwards and out of my chair. It's lucky that Moby has such fast reflexes, or I'd have a pancake bot at that point.

"WILLOW! Don't drop in from the ceiling!" I cry, grabbing my chest. One of my hearts is racing wildly, adrenaline shooting through my system."

"Sorry." She points to the clock. "Isn't it quitting time for you?"

"I was just going to finish off this pile first," I say, my voice drifting off as I gesture to it.

"Nuh-uh. It'll be there tomorrow. Come on, your man's test is tomorrow, and if you're dead set no marrying him you at least need to have some sexy undies for the "Big Night."

"Why would Gregg care what my underwear looks like?" I ask, confused.

Willow slaps her face with her palm, then swings an arm around me. "Kid, it's a good thing you got a woman of the world to look after you."

I nod, not knowing what else to say or do. "What happened to your eye?" I ask nervously, noticing a darkening bruise around her left eye.

"I tripped over a piece of carpet. Can you believe that? I drop off of ceilings just fine and never so much as bruise myself, yet a loose piece of carpet gives me a shiner!"

I say nothing as she pushes me out into the hallway, eager for a girl's day out shopping trip with me. I'm afraid that what caused the shiner is no carpet, but instead a tall man of a bitter persuasion. But I don't know how to say that to Willow without confessing to what I saw, so I bite my lip and remain silent.

"How about this one?" Willow asks, holding up something small made out of black lace.

The whole lingerie thing still confuses me beyond words, much to Willow's apparent frustration. "Why would I wear that?" I ask. "I might as well be naked if you can see through it!"

"Guys like to watch you take it off," she says, throwing it back on the rack with a shrug. There's a long pause between us, during which Willow wraps a small article of clothing tightly between her hands. "Look, I want to be happy for you. I'm trying to be enthusiastic that you're getting a mate. My own… experiences with them haven't been good, and I just don't want to see you hurt, okay?" She turns back to me. "You're my friend, and a damn cool one if I may say so myself," she smiles, ruffling my antennae as all trace of the previous awkwardness vanish. "I'm gonna go buzz the clearance rack, you keep looking here."

I watch her go, the pieces not fitting together in my brain quite right. What was that? Willow seemed so… different… for a moment. Her confidence was gone, her usual joking manner vaporized, her eyes filled with an ache for which I have no descriptive words.

Did I see some other part of her brass, loud personality? Or did she make a mistake, and the mask slipped just long enough for me to see what is really underneath her façade?

"Willow…" I say, following her. "I'm not going to ask you to be happy for me if it's not how you really feel. You mean that to me as a friend. Just… don't ruin it for me, okay? Let me be happy, even if you think I'm naive."

Or rather, that's what I want to do. But I just can't confront someone like that, so I remain at the bra rack, silently picking my way through mounds of foam and tacky lace.

***

The day of all-important days dawns bright and early. I slip out of the incubator bed I share with Gregg extra super early so that I can get him a breakfast that he'll be able to digest before his test time arrives.

Gregg grins when he sees me coming, carrying a take-out tray with a donut and juice on it. "Aw, Orig, you didn't have to, but somehow I knew you would! You're the perfect girl, you know that right?" he asks as he sits up, smiling.

I hand the tray over. He frowns when he sees it. "Nothing for you?"

"I didn't have any extra meal rations, so I'll buy something out of the machines for myself. It's okay, Gregg, I wanted you to eat well before your big test and I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in incubator!"

He smiles and shakes his head. "Sure, starve yourself for me, you silly girl." He brushes a hand for his antennae. "Stop fretting. I'm going to pass with more than flying colors!"

"So they'll be soaring colors?" I ask, cracking a pretty darn pathetic joke. Gregg laughs anyway, the sign of a true gentleman.

He dresses quickly, unashamed to remove his clothes in front of me. I still turn my head away. His shirt off, puts a gloved hand on my shoulder, putting only slight pressure on it. "You don't have to look away. In a few short hours I'll be your mate."

"Hours? But it takes over three days to get the results back!"

"I'll know in an instant if I passed it," he grins, waving me off. "I've got instinct like that, girl." He kisses me on the forehead, throws on his shirt, and slings his backpack up and over his ID pack. "Wish me skill, okay angel? Because I'd don't want to pass by luck alone."

I smile and nod. "I will. I'll be thinking of you all day today!"

Work hasn't changed much since I got my scholar license. I've been looking into getting a scholar's job, but the openings available haven't even so much as made my antennae twitch with mild interest. The fact is, I like the library. As a scholar I'm entitled to more job duties and promotions others couldn't get, but none are open at the moment. I don't particularly mind; I can wait and read in the meantime.

At about five minutes after when I'm supposed to leave, as I'm using my unpaid time to check my email on the office computers, Gregg comes bursting in. In my surprise at seeing him I knock over a pile of books at my left shoulder, causing a loud clattering noise that spooks Moby.

"Gregg, what are you…"

I don't have time to finish the question before he sweeps me up into his arms, pressing his mouth against me hard and fast. I never realized how warm he was before. My feet leave the ground, flailing wildly in open air. My arms thrash around in surprise as Gregg holds me like one would hold an infant, his tongue eagerly probing against my closed mouth.

I push against his chest. "Gregg, stop it! What are you doing?"

"I passed my test, I just know I passed my test!" he says. He's panting. His eyes are wild, lit with a strange inner color that I've never seen before. For the first time in my life, I'm terrified of him.

"But… but… the results…"

"Don't give me that!" he snaps, his voice harsh. He instantly cuts me off, making me want to crawl into a corner. "Why can't you trust me for just once in your life? I love you! Please, please stop rejecting me!"

"I'd never reject you…"

He advances, pushing my back against a wall. My hearts are beating frantically, and my mind has gone into fight or flight mode.

"Original, please baby, I need you so much…"

This time, he is the one that gets cut off, because I slapped him. "Stop it," I say, unable to bring my eyes up to his. "You're scaring me, Gregg, you're scaring me!"

He stands back, his eyes reflecting a combination of hurt and surprise. "I… am?" he asks quietly, his voice suddenly returned to normal. He looks down at his feet, shuffling them like a schoolboy in trouble. "I thought you'd like an aggressive guy."

I soften a bit. My hearts are slowing. I push myself off the wall and run my fingers down his chin. "Gregg, the Gregg you normally are is the Gregg I love. Not someone you think you have to be to please me."

"Really?" he asks. He looks like he honestly doesn't believe that.

"Really," I answer, putting my arms around him and holding him too me. I notice his body is still shaking. Is he upset about something?

He puts a hand on my back. "Thanks. I'll… love you forever."

"That's all I could ask," I say, snuggling against him. His hand, meanwhile, has snaked down the curve of my back and slides slowly between the back of my black standard-issue pants and underpants, gliding along the contours of my body and slowly down.

I slap his hand away, laughing nervously. "You're sure you passed your test? Absolutely sure?"

"No way could I fail!"

"Gregg, I'm so happy for you, but…"

His hands are on my shoulders, pushing on the padded contours of my uniform while his long tongue slides between my clothes and my skin, trailing across the flesh. Every nerve in my body tingles with excitement and anticipation. My body wants him right then and right there, but my mind is screaming "No, no, no!"

Moby dodges sideways as a pile of books falls over. I find my body pushes up against the smooth and slightly cold surface of the sorting table as Gregg holds me against him, his mouth pressed to mine. Papers flutter past my face on the way to the ground. My eyes are wide open but I'm not feeling anything.

The office is deathly quiet. Everyone else has left for the night. Moby, confused, can only huddle in a corner and watch us with a complete lack of knowledge as to what making out is or what it entails.

Gregg's mouth is so warm against mine. I want this, but I don't want it. I'm so confused. I push him back. "Gregg, I'm so scared… I'm confused… I want to wait until we have the ceremonial paper!"

His eyes look hurt. "You need some piece of paper to tell me you love me?" he asks, his voice gentle and unevenly broken.

"Gregg…"

"Original… please…"

"Gregg, I do love you…" I bite my lip, fingering the promise necklace he gave me.

"I won't hurt you," are the last words spoken between the two of us before he's on top of my body, with the sorting table beneath my back. My head is thrown back as far as I can, moans and whimpers I don't understand escaping from my mouth. The shirt of my uniform is lying between the small of my back and the cold table.

I don't know where the rest of my clothes are. I'm covered in the feel of his hands on my skin as I wrap my arms around him, trying not to slide too badly as he pushes himself against my hips. I feels like he's rubbing me raw, and I cry out in pain.

"It hurts," I try to choke through the moans coming from the way my body, though injured, is reacting t the pleasure he's inflicting.

"I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can!" he pants between groans and sighs. I catch a glimpse of Moby out of the corner of my eyes. He looks horrified, as though fearful that Gregg is actually doing something intended to hurt me.

"Moby, I'm okay…" I try to utter, feeling Gregg's tongue against my chest. I know I don't sound convincing. I can't see it, but I've lost a small amount of blood onto the counter. I won't notice it until the next day, when I'll have to clean it up before I can start stacking and sorting books.

I don't remember what it felt like when Gregg finally reached his peak. It was too concentrated on holding him against me, trying to ignore the first time pain shooting up my spine. I only notice that he's done when he stops moving, slowing my arms and backing out. My body and brain fight between relief to finally be done, and the strange yearning feeling that he hasn't done enough. These feelings confuse me. How could I possibly want more? I'm hurting all over, and feeling ashamed that I'm lying naked on my back in my office, but the yearning won't go away. What are these irrational thoughts? Why won't they leave me alone?

Gregg pulls me up and against my chest. For a moment, it seems that our hearts are beating in unison. He strokes my antennae. "Please, stop trembling. I hate to see you shake. I love you… And in three days, you'll have that certificate. I promise on my life as an Irken soldier, Original. I promise to love you forever…"

The tears on my face have started to dry as I respond to his comment by putting my arms around him, burying my face in the naked expanse of his chest. I can't remember if I actually choked out a declaration of love, or simply shuddered there.

Gregg finally gets up and begins to dress himself, pausing occasionally to ask if I'm all right of if I need help. I shake my head. He's destroyed the underwear Willow helped me pick out, but it was off the clearance rack, so I guess it's not that big of loss. I just feel funny about not having underwear under my pants. I know lots of Irkens like to "go commando," but I'm not one of them.

Strangely, I find that I can walk normally. I hadn't expected to be able to. Other than a few wrinkles no outward sign of what intimate thing just happened remains. I expect Irkens passing us in the hall to be able to look at me and know what I've just done, but not a single pair of eyes lingers on either Gregg or I as we pass.

Gregg is tired and simply wants to return to the incubator. I ask him if he can hold me, as I'm still not feeling very confident. He does for only five minutes before he falls asleep, my head still pressed against his neck. Only once I know his antennae can't hear it do I sob, my voice breaking the silence. I know I love him, and I don't regret what I did, but crying seems to be the only way to calm my insides, tumbling about like laundry in a dryer.

I don't regret what I did…

The next morning I awake to find a note by my side. Gregg has called my work to let them know that I'm going to be late; he lied and said that I was feeling ill but would tough it out through a half day. In reality, the note claims, he just wanted to give me a chance to get a little extra sleep. The note again professes his love for me and ends with his flowing signature.

Tough it out is exactly how I would describe work that day. I'm still a bit tired and confused, if not physically ill. I guess I don't look all that well, either, as the other librarians come out of their tallest-induced stupor to ask if I feel okay, as I seem pale.

I rest my head against a cool, unopened can of soda. I feel stupid. Other girls handle this kind of thing every day of their lives without missing a beat, and here one time throws me for a complete and total loop. Maybe I am being overly dramatic about the whole thing.

"Original?" a quiet, feminine voice asks from the door. I'm shocked to see Willow standing there, one leg poised behind the other. "The other girls from your office said you looked horrible, but you wouldn't think of taking a whole day off." She holds out an arm. "Come on, you silly girl. You need sleep. The Massive won't explode if you can't sort for a day."

I did insist on staying when the other librarians tried to send me home, but I don't have the strength to fight against someone like Willow. Her arms are strangely soft as she lets me rest against her, walking down the hallway. Despite how horrible I'm feeling, I'm enjoying seeing softness under a normally hard exterior.

"Willow…" I start to say. I want to ask how she does it. If it will stop hurting in the future. If I'll stop feeling guilt… no, no, I don't regret it! I don't feel guilty! Why is my mind telling me all these things, trying to confuse me into not loving my mate?

"Yes?" Her dark eyes are shining strangely brightly. I would have thought she'd know what I'd done instantly, but if she does there is no acknowledgment of it that I can read by looking at her. I want to ask if it will get better in the future, but I can't bring myself to utter the words. It's too humiliating to ask.

"I need to lie down… I want Gregg…" I whimper, pressing my eyes against the softness of her shoulder. I'm glad Willow's not the bony sort; warmth and softness are what I need at the moment.

"Ssssh. Gregg will return tonight, once he's done with whatever it is those loyalists do."

Loyalist? I want to ask what that means, but we're already in the changing rooms. Willow looks concerned but gives me my privacy to change; I just know she'd know if I had to change in her presence.

I never dreamed Willow could be so gentle or so quiet as she assists me back into my bed and adjusts the temperature settings. "Get better, okay?"

I nod, drifting quickly off into the blackness of sleep.

When I awake, I'm still alone. I look up, my eyes fuzzy. In the darkness I can read the clock. It's four hours past when Gregg should have returned.

I sit up straight, hitting my head on the top of the incubator. Four hours? I begin to panic, throwing open the top. A couple of Irkens nearby look at me, then notice that I'm dressed for sleep and shoot away. They don't want to catch whatever virus I've got.

I stumble to the group phone and lift the receiver, calling Gregg's work number. His answering machine clicks on. "Hello, you've reached Gregg's communicator. Gregg is currently in a training mission on Devastus and will return in three days. If this is Original, I'm sorry that I wasn't able to tell you to your face that I was leaving, but you were sick and I couldn't bear the thought of waking you. Otherwise, if you would like to leave a message, please press five."

I set the receiver down, hot tears in my eyes. I'm sick, I'm tired, and now I'm alone. I try to whimper or cry Gregg's name but the words won't come out.

Instead of words coming to me, a strange dizziness comes. Darkness follows the dizziness, and I collapse to my knees. As the world spins away from me, I can not see Gregg's face.