Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: Here it is, a continuation to the fluff. A little fluffier than the first conversation, I think—I rather surprised myself.

I'd like to explain first: I posted this story with the intention of it being a one-shot, but after a few people suggested I continue the story, I realized that it might be fun. Unfortunately, I had a little trouble finding a way directly to continue the story, it having such a sound conclusion to it. So, I've decided I'll put a series of conversations—probably starting at the 'tail-ends', to hold true to tradition—in chapter format. I think I'm going to post about four… So, it won't so much be an ongoing story as it is a documentation of different conversations held between Amelia and Doppler in their relationship. Sound okay? I hope so. Now—go ahead and read! Reviews are greatly appreciated!

There was a moment's hesitation. Doppler had envisioned this moment for a long time; he had often considered how romantic and well placed their first kiss would be, in just the right setting, in just the right mood, and, the most unquestioned detail of all: it would be late in the evening. This, however, was happening somewhere near the brink of dusk, when the clouds were not quite yet tinted with the ivory pink, and the sky was still a crisp blue, not the flaming, more passionate red of a sunset. Also, they were nowhere special; they were only in his library, looking at astronomical encyclopedias and space-adventure novels. The mood seemed the only thing that held any justice to his imaginings. There was a lovely fire going, Amelia had been leaning on his shoulder for a good part of the evening, and he himself proudly noted that he had not labored through too many verbal blunders.

Amelia seemed wont to such impulsive spurts of affection, she being a much more unpredictable creature in romantic tendencies. He, then, concluded that she was merely acting on an extemporaneous approach to romantic encounters, and would regret the impromptu kiss later, after looking back and seeing that they truly were not in the right place and the right time.

Therefore, after his brief analysis of the situation, he could do nothing but decide to save the perfection of the relationship, and perhaps wake Amelia from her spontaneous stupor, by declining to grant anything particularly mushy. So, when the moment came to a point of no backing out, he slid his hand down her fiery hair and along her face, leaned close, and kissed her softly on the nose.

There was a strange pause as Amelia's face first took the expression of surprise, then confusion, and then at last melted into a smile of slightly taken aback derision.

"What was that?" she asked him at last.

"That…" he said, an awkward feeling suddenly encompassing him, "That was…er…a… uh, a kiss."

"I'm not your grandmother, Doctor."

Doppler's face flushed, a little embarrassed. "Of course not…"

"Then why go about it on the nose?"

Doppler's hands drew little circles in the air, as if he was trying to encourage the explanation from his mouth. "The particular…uh… rather, the circumstances are…. er….um…"

"Delbert?"

"Yes?"

Amelia tilted her head a little, smiling at him teasingly. "I know you have a number of resplendent words in your vocabulary, and believe me, I do love to hear them… But since you trouble yourself in such great lengths to insert them into a sentence, I much prefer you when you use simpler words. Be concise, darling. It comes easier to you."

Doppler regarded her. When she wore that smile, he had come to discover, he could never be sure whether she was serious in her statements, or merely taking advantage of some new instance in which she could derive fun from criticizing him. It had been his habit, therefore, to compromise with her, and naturally assume she was doing both. Thusly, his cheeks burned with a just visible crimson, both at the fact that she had found something to criticize, and that she had indeed voiced the criticism. Amelia only broadened that indecipherable smile at the sight of his florid visage, and leaned back, as if to take in him in with one sweep of her emerald eyes.

"Well, Doctor?" she asked, lifting both eyebrows in exaggeratedly bright expectancy.

Doppler cleared his throat. "Well, what?"

Amelia dipped her face very close to his, suddenly seeming more serious. Their foreheads touched, and to Doppler's surprise, her lips came within a breath's distance from his.

"I told you be concise," she said in a hush, "not to stop talking."

He took time out to work this into his brain. What he ought to do, it occurred to him, was steal their first kiss without delay. Prove to Amelia that he could be just as extemporaneous as she could, that he wasn't the stuffed shirt that she might think him to be. Show her his ability to be spontaneous and passionate! He surely had the ability somewhere! Forget the right setting or the time, forget that the moon hadn't even begun its ascent into the sky; the time was here and now!

Then he remembered his imaginings. They had been perfect; perfectly placed, perfectly timed, and perfectly romantic. How could he tamper with them? How could reality possibly be any less than the fantasy and still be just right? He cleared his throat again.

"I hadn't stopped talking," he assured her quietly. "I just… I was trying to remember all the small words I might use to be concise."

Amelia drew a slender, quiet hand behind one of his floppy ears and scratched. "Well, if you would prefer to stop talking…"

"No, no…" Doppler assured her, straightening so that their brows were no longer against one another and beginning to think. "Let's see now… Small words…"

Amelia straightened slowly up after he retreated, eyeing him with a lifted eyebrow. At this look, Doppler began to draw circles in the air again. "The…er… circumstances…uh… rather, the particulars… er…"

Doppler, in his muddled, rather frenzied search for something to tell her, was surprised by how many circles he was drawing in the air. He reached for his glasses, still sputtering, pulled forth a handkerchief from his vest pocket, and wiped their cleanliness thoroughly for a little while. Still, Amelia simply watched him. He swallowed in mid-prattle, and wiped away any invisible else that might blear his vision. He then set his glasses lightly back upon his nose, replaced the handkerchief, and cleared his throat. It occurred to Doppler that he was waiting for Amelia to jump in and rescue his sentence from his sea of articulated hesitations, but at a quick glance in her direction, he found no real evidence that such a rescue was going to take place.

So he babbled on.

"…In these particular circumstances that have manifested themselves in the preliminaries of our distracted reasoning, Amelia, we have acquiesced dalliance to prevail for too long an interval. The liability that an egregious transgression will be committed is upon us, and I refrain from allowing it. Thusly, I shall transmute the topic of our confabulation. Ever heard of a Cassegrain Focus? This is the arrangement of a telescope in which light is reflected from a concave mirror back along the telescope to a convex mirror, which then reflects the light through a hole in the center of the concave mirror to an optical device such as the observer or…"

"…Or perhaps a camera," Amelia finished his sentence with him. Doppler's jaw set hastily when he heard her voice. At last, she was saving him!

"Yes, Doctor, I have heard of Cassegrain Focuses—you, actually, were the one who told me about them; please, spare me another discourse on them. I'd much prefer to ask you a question."

Doppler, discovering his mouth was void of moisture and that he was somewhat out of breath, found a tremendous relief in the fact that Amelia had at last jumped in and rescued him. This was the way it was supposed to be: Doppler would spurt and sputter in vain until shortly Amelia intervened. She should have saved him sooner. He gulped, tried to answer her but couldn't bear to utter one more syllable, and hence gave a heavy nod in affirmation that she continue.

Amelia inhaled quietly. "Delbert."

"…Yes?"

"Take a deep breath."

Doppler mechanically obeyed. When he inhaled deeply, there was at once a calming effect, and he relaxed.

"Are you all right now?" he heard Amelia ask him.

He nodded. "I believe so."

Amelia patted his hand closest to her. "Good. Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"What in the bloody hell is the matter with you?"

Doppler was, understandably, surprised at her question, but more so at her calm, complacent tone than at the inquiry itself. "I'm sorry?" he croaked.

"What is the matter? You've been suffering an anxiety attack for perhaps a good ten minutes now, and I'd rather like to know just what catastrophe has gotten you so panicked."

Doppler stared at Amelia. What had he been so nervous about? Ah! He remembered: the perfection of the setting, the time, and the mood of their first kiss. He shook his head at her, now that he had his bearings back, in almost incredulity that she did not recognize the insurmountable problem at hand. Perhaps the time for osculation was here and now, but what kind of here and now was it? Not the perfect kind, that was certain. He merely wanted it just right. So he tried explaining again.

"In these particular circumstances manifested by the preliminaries…"

But Amelia placed a hushing finger on his lips. "No, Delbert, never mind…Let me rephrase that… What makes you think these manifest circumstances we've allowed to prevail are going lead to some error?"

Doppler spoke from under Amelia's finger, "We're too tempted at too inopportune a time."

"I see. Can I ask you something else?"

"Yes."

"What are you talking about?"

Doppler moved away from Amelia and regained his feet. Adjusting his vest and glasses in turn, he finally caressed a thoughtful hand on his brow, and said slowly, "This isn't… perfect."

"Perfect?"

"You don't see it?" he insisted. "The setting isn't right, the moon isn't out, I've depleted any mood that might've been there…This has to mean something."

"Doctor," Amelia drawled blandly, "this is a kiss we're talking about."

Doppler turned to face her again. "I know. But it's you I'm kissing. And I want it be perfect."

This cued a sigh from her. "Oh, Doctor…"

Doppler looked at her. There was a rare hint of genuine affection in her features, spiced by that indecipherable smile that so often implied derision. It was a gentle, teasing, soft expression, which lingered for a small lapse of time, during which the two simply looked at one another.

Then, slowly, Amelia rose from her place and stood, watching him, her face never for an instant changing. She covered the short distance between them, blinked at him slowly, and touched his hand. He couldn't help but wonder at the tenderness of the touch, coming from such a stoic and, though he would never really admit it, intimidating woman as Amelia. Nevertheless, he felt her fingers slowly intertwine with his own, weave in and out, and then withdraw. The same hand then slid up along his arm and rested at his shoulder, at which point she wasted no time, but threw her arms about him and kissed him, full on the mouth.

The regret, if there was any, need not be described. Let it be adequately said that Doctor Delbert Doppler, with no inhibition that might have been expected, kissed Captain Amelia back.