Sorry I've been so long with an update. Though the chapter still isn't exactly as I wanted it, I've finally decided to leave it as it is. It's stubbornly resisting much change. This, as most of the story, is OOC for Nita, perhaps more so than can simply be chalked up to hormones and all that jazz. But it has to be that way to the story to exist, so I supposed that this is a moot point. I'm glad my fan base has extended. Even though ReadingRedhead is a marvelous reviewer—I'm happy with just her—I'm ecstatic with more of you. Enjoy (or don't), then review regardless.

Ashgrl: I went back and read that review I left—ouch. I must have been in a particularly bitchy mood that day. I mean, those were things that I would have pointed out anyway, but usually I try to be at least vaguely kind and constructive in my remarks. I'm sorry—I'll try to do better next time.

Disclaimer: Yada yada yada... you know it's fanfic and that I own nothing; I know it's fanfic and that I own nothing. It's assumed. I think this will be my last disclaimer.

Yesterday, 11:30 PM

Nita curled against Brandon on the couch. The ending credits to the movie rolled as she readjusted herself so that she could look up at him.

"So, what'd ya think?"

He gazed down, tightening his arms around her. "I think you're beautiful."

Nita flushed, thankful for the relative darkness of the room.

"I mean it." He traced a finger down her check and neck. "You're absolutely dazzling."

She smiled and nestled into his shoulder. He softly kissed her cheek and she turned her face toward him, their lips centimeters apart.

Brandon hesitated, pulling back slightly. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Are you sure you're ready for this? Nita repeated incredulously in her mind. What kind of über-polite ­­­guy have I found? He asking for permission to kiss me? Ronan never asked. It just... happened.

Instead of answering, Nita pressed her lips to his. Instantly, her mind and body were assailed with not just her own emotions and sensations, but by another set as well.

Impossible. He's not a...

"No!" Nita tore away as his presence touched her mind. This was not the refreshing green of Ronan she had basked in beneath the Irish moon, nor the solid blue of Kit she had discovered on one wayward and never-again-mentioned evening. It was a cold black, almost an emptiness.

"You're—"

His shoulders slumped and He sighed. "I couldn't hold it back any longer."

"But then—you—me—the," Nita stuttered, her mind awhirl. An image as herself as Sally Fields in Mrs. Doubtfire popped in her head, and she just barely bit back screaming, "The whole time? The whole time?!"

"I've been so attuned with you the last several days, but I tried to hold all the feelings back. I knew you'd know the moment you could feel them. But some things are out of the Powers' hands. We're both fluent in the Speech—I couldn't hold it back any longer," he repeated.

"Oh, drop the act." Nita looked at Him, struggling to differentiate the kind Brandon she had fallen for and the merciless entity that had introduced pain and suffering and death into the world.

"I'm flattered," he drawled, losing Brandon's boyish innocence. "Merciless? Really, now. We might have an engaging discussion some time on how death is the ultimate mercy. But perhaps on another occasion."

"There won't be another occasion."

"Haven't you been having a good time?"

"It's all been a lie." Nita turned to the door.

"I've never lied to you."

"What?" she spat, flying around to face him. "Everything out of your mouth has been a lie. Brandon? Moved in to this studio apartment to get away from your father? Working to save up enough to start college? You love dogs and spaghetti and rocky road ice cream? What the hell to you take me for?"

She turned again to leave, but He grabbed her wrist. With no more barriers, thought and emotion rushed over her. She jerked at the intensity and found herself drawn toward Him once more. Again, the cold blackness engulfed her, smothered her—but at the same time, it intrigued her. The kiss deepened, and she found herself back on the couch, exploring Him. She pushed deeper into the blackness as her hands danced over bare skin. It seemed endless, save for sporadic speckles of random color. She heard her zipper unzip and felt the dress slide from her shoulders.

Wait! This is happening too fast! a small rational voice in the back of her mind protested. But that small voice was no match for the overwhelming blackness, the radiating passion, and the millions of years of evolutionary biology at work.

But He's the—

­She gasped as He kissed tender flesh.

I can't—I don't want—stop!

Do you really mean that? He asked in her mind, not pausing their frantic, desperate engagement.

Her small voice of reason could not find strength enough to protest.

x-x-x-x-x

Present

"Leaving so soon?"

"Yes."

"Oh, for real this time?"

"Yes. Stay away from me."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Nita paused. "I know."

He looked at her for a moment. "I see. It's not Me you are worried about. You don't trust yourself anymore."

Nita didn't reply.