A/N: Sorry to be late posting this chapter. The general plan is to upload twice a week, but a health issue took over late last week and disrupted my best intentions. But I'm back at the keyboard now. This chapter is short and I use it to solidify a couple emotional perspectives and key points.

Late night ruminations are keeping our two central characters sleepless. Just what's going through their minds? Let's find out.

Chapter 7

She attempted to sleep, but it stubbornly refused to come. Longings and imaginings of Warren tormented her. If only he was in bed with her. If only their bodies were entwined. He was so close, yet out of reach. She wanted him down to the nucleus of her cells; deeper in fact. Genetics and Aru demanded they mate. Ettwanae wanted to obey the invisible forces. Warren did not. Disobedience was creating a constant physical ache of unmet need. In exasperation, she threw the bedcovers aside and sat up with a groan.

/ My poor Poda. /

The nickname floated into her mind. A term of endearment from the ancient language of their people meaning 'special one.' Volu had coined her that early on in their joining and it always swathed her with comforting tenderness.

/ Why doesn't he want me? He feels what I do, doesn't he? /

/ All the indications say yes. /

She stood with a deep sigh, wings hanging low reflecting her emotional state. / Then why is he resisting? /

/ I believe out of fear. /

/ Of me? / she asked incredulously, giving her wings a quick ruffle to realign feathers.

/ Of what he may be. /

/ He is Eshaaru; I can feel it. Why would that make him afraid? / Ettwanae filled a glass with water from the spigot. Talking with Volu was helping distract from the physical discomfort.

/ Because he was raised as Human. It is his entire identity. Imagine if someone you did not know or had no reason to trust said you were something other than Eshaaru. If you chose to accept that, it would put into question all you believe of yourself…including how you viewed your parents. /

Ettwanae mulled that over. It would change everything, she realized. Your whole reality would suddenly be in doubt. Then she understood – if someone told her she was of a different race than Eshaaru, not only would she not believe it, but she'd likely be angry and suspicious at the accusation and the reason behind it.

Volu continued when Ettwanae remained quiet. / From his words, I believe he has heard the idea before in variants. Having someone that so looks like him repeating the same theory must be unsettling. /

"He is Eshaaru, isn't he?" She asked aloud, sitting back on her bed, sipping the water. Even after two years, sometimes telepathic communication was too much work, especially late at night.

Volu followed suit and activated her audio orifice in Ettwanae's room. "That remains to be confirmed. He forbade any further scans and I have generally honored that request."

Ettwanae caught the qualifier. Eshaar'ne were as close to incapable of lying as a sentient being can be, thus the hedge carried more than the usual weight. "Volu…you have scanned him more, haven't you?" she charged, but not with disapproval. "What did you find?"

"His heritage remains in question without deep scanning. The same genetic sheathing that protects you may indeed be present in him. That would explain why all the scans and tests he mentioned always show Human DNA."

"So you found nothing as yet." The silence that followed set Ettwanae instantly on edge. "Volu, what did you find?"

"Poda, we need to talk."

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Warren could not get comfortable in the too-firm bed that Flint had kindly allowed him to use for the second night cycle. The teenager was lightly snoring on the floor, but neither of those reasons was what kept Warren awake. Instead, he was trying his darnedest to ignore the incessant impulses running through his mind and body. Runaway thoughts of Ettwanae and everything that had occurred over the past day and a half wouldn't let his brain shutdown. With a deep sigh, he got up, stretched body and wings, then made his way in the near total darkness to the door. It opened silently at his approach.

He briefly spectulated if there was an auto-trigger or if Volu always knew where everyone was and opened the door consciously. Something to ask if he cared enough to know. Tomorrow he'd be home whether they liked it or not. The living ship would deposit him at Xavier's school and that would be the end of this nonsense about being Eshaaru and soulbounds.

'Maybe a midnight snack,' he offered himself. Stepping out of Flint's chambers, he looked down the hall toward her room. Heat trailed through his body and straight to his groin. 'Keep moving, Worthington,' he ordered himself and continued into the galley across the hall from the teen's quarters. As he entered, soft luminescence pushed away the blackness. Again he wondered if Volu was watching his every move. 'Unnerving.' Rummaging through the various containers on the counter, he found a snack he always enjoyed – zante. 'At least the food gods shine upon you, War ol' boy.'

Leaning against the counter, he munched on the sweet biscuit to consider what he'd learned during his rescue/quasi-kidnapping. So much to take in. Eshaaru really existed and cruised around in living ships (or at least one did). Warren channeled what Eshaaru called Aru and a form of that energy, Ura, was apparently dead set on him and Ettwanae ending up in bed. A powerful telepath in another Eshaar'ne was working for the Etagllot and after him. The threat he posed, a telepath/possible telekinetic combination, worried him – a lot. The situation, if true, did not bode well for Warren. Add that the man could slip through Gtar-Cro's best detection technology, and it was more than a touch disturbing.

'Damn nannites! Damn Apocalypse! Damn everyone!' he lashed out at a universe that seemed hell-bent on making his existence difficult. And just when he was finally finding some peace and happiness.

"Why does life always want to dump shit on me?" he asked aloud, then winced remembering Volu could hear him. The room remained quiet. Was she sleeping? Knew it was rhetorical? Allowing him the illusion of privacy? More questions.

Without consent, his mind moved down the hallway to Ettwanae's room and to what he'd learned about the energy he channeled and that the ability was an Eshaaru trait as well. Disturbing. And Eshaaru looked just like him. More disquieting information. Add to that the relentless pull he felt toward her, which was almost frightening in its intensity. What was he to make of it? Was there something to the soulbound business or was she, maybe even unconsciously, exerting mental control over him? The pheromone theory remained a possibility, but since he felt the pull even when she was in another room asleep with door closed, that seemed less likely. Then again, Volu was a closed system; the pheromones could be trapped. But Flint and Gatebi seemed fine. The attraction felt so- so right somehow.

'She's intelligent, beautiful, and incredibly desirable – just what exactly am I fighting so hard against?' The question loomed. The obvious hit squarely. 'An alien who wants you firmly in her bed, just like Ztar did!' Warren growled in self-reply. 'That's you, Worthington, just some people's idea of a fantasy fuck. God, I'm so sick of it!' As harsh as the words were, there was surprising little anger behind them. He just hadn't felt evil intentions from Ettwanae. All he sensed in her was an equally powerful pull to him. She appeared to be as out of control of her libido as he was.

'Is it really the sex you're fighting or where the mounting evidence is pointing?'

Warren sighed, and pushed that idea aside. 'Human. I am Human.' He'd stick to his mantra come hell or high water. 'Back to the sexual attraction business – safer subject,' he steered himself with sarcasm.

'Would it be so bad to give in?' He could think of much worse experiences. Maybe all they needed was one good roll in the hay and then this drive to mate would be over. Animals are like that, and he was a feral as much as he preferred not to fully admit it. Perhaps she was in heat? It would add credence to his pheromone theory. It was as good an explanation as mental control, perhaps even more so. He let the idea settle.

Closing his eyes, imaginings of making love to a fellow winged being formed without conscious directive. What would it be like, to be with someone like himself? Sensually smooth skin. Sleek primary feathers and soft down. Her scent with its hint of animal wildness. Silken hair spread across the pillow like a golden halo. Those clear-blue eyes looking up at him…

Powerful urges pounded through him and he nearly choked on his zante. He slammed headlong into arousal and the impact jarred him to the bare soles of his feet. Lust nearly propelled him down the hall and into her room. Gripping the edge of the counter, he tried to catch his breath and regain control. 'S-shit!'

He took a deep, deliberate inhale and then let it out slowly, forcing it to be steady, and then repeated the exercise until the instinctual drive eased. "For the love of God, Worthington." He didn't care if Volu heard.

A thought crossed his mind. If Ettwanae was sleeping and he still experienced the urges, he could cross mind control off the list. Yet without verification, he didn't know if she was asleep or not. He shook his head at unresolved issue and pulled his wings tight to his body in a reassuring embrace. As the intense episode passed, he decided to wander the ship. Perhaps moving would help shake off the testosterone flood.

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A/N: To make up for the brevity of Chapter 7, the next installment is much longer. I hope to post that chapter very soon in penance for last week's skip. As always, my wonderful readers, your feedback spurs me on – share your thoughts, a quick word of encouragement, or suggestions on what could be improved.