The wait had been nigh-intolerable for Blackthorne as he performed his needed after action maintenance. He scrubbed his gear, sold his loot, and sent his weapons off for repairs. The cost was still high, but not as significant as before. Whether this was due to a slight lessening in the anger the shopkeeper had felt now that he no longer smelled like swamp ass incarnate, or because his weapons were not quite as damaged as before, it was hard to say. Blackthorne assumed it to be a bit of both reasons.

He sipped on a glass of tea and looked at his status. "Life force is looking better, obviously..."

Other than that tidbit of information, the only real changes were that he now had more ability points and forty additional skill points. He eyed the intellect stat for a moment. His original plan was to increase that to sixteen. He'd receive an additional five skill points per level, and the addition of a few new skill slots, not that he really needed the latter at the moment.

Despite his desire to do more damage, it was still the best plan for his first six levels. He hemmed and hawed about it for a moment, but realized the same truth that he'd discovered before. "If I raise my intellect to eighteen by level six... I can go all on my primary skills for a few levels, bring them all to rank one hundred by level ten at least..."

Blackthorne was still on the metaphorical fence about going all in on any given skill, but there would definitely be bonuses for going that route. Either way, he raised his intellect to sixteen. His talent booster modifier rose to plus-five, and new skill slots in the secondary and tertiary section awakened.

"Man, I'll have a ton of unused skill slots when intellect reaches eighteen points," remarked Blackthorne. Still, it would provide a nice round number of skill points per level, fifty. He looked his status window over one more time then turned his attention to his skill menu.

STATUS [Uninjured]

Name: Scott Logan

Dream Form: Blackthorne

Level: 3

Ability Points: 0

Talent Points: 0

Skill Points: 40

Life Force: 33/33

Armor Class: 3

Strength: 13

[+1]

Agility: 12[10]

[+0]

Vigor: 16

[+3]

Intellect: 16

[+5]

Charisma: 16

[+5]

Luck: 10

[+0]

"Hmm, the level-up increased a few of my skill ranks again, but that means they're all empty of experience now right?" he asked himself thoughtfully. It would be the best time to use skill points, truth be told. The only other option would be, of course, to hoard them like a skill point miser and never spend any until he reached a bottle neck. Somehow, he doubted this world would let him skate by with low skill-levels, however.

The choice he now faced was in regards to how he should spend his skill points. Originally, his intention was to hop around and use them primarily to raise skills close to their milestone rank to the next important rank. However, his change of hunting venue also changed those plans. Only magic could harm the undead and they were by far the most lucrative opponent that he'd faced. The problem was that his gear was trash and would not survive more than a few swift, brutal, encounters with the dead.

Blackthorne stared at his skill menu listing for a time. He currently had one free spot in his primary skills. Would enchanting prove useful enough to splurge another twenty skill points to raise a tertiary skill to primary status? If he went all in on it, he could spend thirty-two points to bring it to rank ten as a primary skill and acquire a sub-skill for it.

The more he looked at the extravagant cost for the plan, the less he liked to idea. On the surface it would provide a small boost to his enchantment skill. However, with his level-up the skill had finally reached the second rank. He could spend all forty of his points and achieve the same effect while not moving the skill from his tertiary slot. While that made no sense for the sake of efficiency, it did leave open the option to simply keep training it where it sat now and spend fewer points to do the same thing in the future.

He rubbed the side of his face for a moment, a trickle of sweat slid down to indicate the difficulty of his choices. This was his chance to drastically increase his combat ability. At the rate that he was going, he might have the same option in a few days. However, he could not count on the future, only the options laid out in this moment.

"Only magic hurts the undead properly, and my magic is so pathetic that only enchanted weapons are worth using at the moment.... Even so, only synergy allows me to make anything close to an actual living in this world..." said Blackthorne slowly.

There was, of course, a compromise. He could move enchanting to a primary slot and then spend no further skill points on it until he reached level four. Simply training its usage should increase its rank a few times before that eventuality occurred.

Blackthorne nodded. It was a grand compromise. The remaining twenty points would easily allow him to develop both his dark magic and his synergy skill sets since they were close to their milestone ranks.

Of course, he could wait until level four and move his enchanting skill at that time. It would free him up to heavily upgrade his primary skills.

The possibilities went round and round inside his head as he contemplated the change. Level gains did not occur that regularly. A few weeks into his new life and he'd managed to reach level three. While he was not a world-record holder, he was definitely doing better than most. Outside of people who practically lived in the dream, and if the forums were any real indicator, less than a third of the population knew what level three tasted like.

Blackthorne eyed his dark magic skill. "Pretty sure the next rank up will just let me use a new kind of weak-sauce magic... but what about the sub-skill..."

Would a magical technique born out of dark lightning mastery turn the tide? It would cost seventeen points to find out. It was doable, even while shifting enchanting around. In fact, he could even raise his synergy a bit afterwards.

Critical eyes gazed at his skill list for a time, but then he dismissed the notion of moving enchanting altogether. It served well-enough at this exact moment to meet his needs. "Power... It's time I focused on power."

If he was wrong about it, then so be it. He needed to know if his dark magic skill would ever be worth anything!

Blackthorne immediately spent thirteen points in order to increase both his dark magic, and basic dark lightning mastery to the next milestone ranks. Two new sub-skills became available if he so chose, and four new potential magical techniques. In truth, he could afford them all, but he could only choose one technique, or sub-skill per ten ranks of its associated skill.

He made his decisions then grinned. Seventeen skill points flowed into his skills and several new abilities rose within him. After reaching his decision, another one was presented to him. Did he spend his points to bring his skills close to the next milestone, but leave a few in reserved to buy new techniques, or did he begin work on synergy?

It was a difficult decision in truth. He could train all he wanted, raise his skill ranks with no trouble. However, there was still one major concern. Whether he used his skill listing, or found someone to teach him a technique outside of those listings did not matter. It would still cost skill points to acquire a skill or technique. He would need to keep a few reserve skill points if he wanted to make further upgrades before his next level-up.

He spent some time glancing back and forth between his dark magic skills and his synergy skill set. He'd never bothered with conjuration to date, and as such did not want to risk it until he had something he could actually do with it to see if it were worth the cost of points. There was not much else that he could immediately do with dark magic, so he opted to focus on his synergy skill. Two mile stone ranks for his skill and sub-skill were achieved and he gained access to new sub-skills and techniques.

Blackthorne looked over the list thoughtfully then grinned. "Oh, this could work..."

While he did want the technique which would reduce the cost he paid with his life force when he synergized things, it could wait until next level. The ability to properly salvage and refine metal during synergy, plus a new sub-skill that would allow for overall efficiency improvements when using synergy to combine low grade materials was practically a godsend. For one thing, it would lower synergy costs for low-grade items. For another it would allow him to combine items without having to hold them directly.

"What do I do with the rest of my points?" he asked himself. Left with eleven points to work with at the moment, he was in an awkward position. They would not bring anything useful to the next rank milestone, and he could not acquire new sub-skills or techniques until other milestones were met.

"Guess, I'll hold onto them," he remarked. Even if he did not reach a milestone rank before his next level-up, the extra points would greatly reduce the pain of moving his enchanting skill into a primary skill slot.

He checked his skill slots once more to make certain that he did not overlook anything. He was quite interested in testing his new abilities, especially his Imperious Jolt! technique.

PRIMARY SKILLS

Dark Magic

Rank: 20

- Sub-Skill: Basic Dark Lightning Mastery

Rank: 10

- Technique: Imperious Jolt! LVL 1

***

- Sub-Skill: Basic Dark Fire Mastery

Rank: 1

Conjuration Magic

Rank: 1

Synergy

Rank: 20

- Sub Skill: Improved Synergy Refinement

Rank: 10

- Technique: Metal Salvage and Refinement LVL 1

***

- Sub-skill: Improved Low-Grade Material Synergy

Rank: 1

[Empty]

[=]

SECONDARY SKILLS

Heavy Armor

Rank: 2

Blade Mastery

Rank: 20

- Sub-Skill: Basic Longsword Mastery

Rank: 1

- Sub-Skill: Basic Shortsword Mastery

Rank: 3

Arcane Ring Mastery

Rank: 4

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[=]

TERTIARY SKILLS

Jewelry Crafting

Rank: 7

Enchanting

Rank: 2

Alchemy

Rank: 1

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[Empty Slot]

[=]

"That's a lot of neat changes," remarked Blackthorne. He looked at the information for his Imperious Jolt! technique once more before he opted to try it out.

Imperious Jolt!

After countless hours of experimentation you have discovered a method to simplify the casting requirements for the Jolt! spell. During your next casting of the spell, a permanent mana-circuit will be formed. This is an arduous undertaking that may leave you both exhausted, and considerably more knowledgeable regarding the arcane arts.

If this mana-circuit is activated in the future, this spell may be cast immediately and without the need for speaking the associated words of power.

Spell Type: Dark Lightning

Spell Level: 1

Casting Range: 1'

Life Force Cost: 5 per second

Spell Force: 10

Spell Damage: 1-3

Special Requirements: Charisma Modifier +1

Restrictions: Imperious spells do not gain the benefit of the inclusion of your charisma modifier when the spell is cast. However, a minimum charisma modifier is required in order to maintain the mana-circuit.

- Items, skills, and spells will not alter this spell's capacities.

- You must increase the spell level in order to increase the power of an imperious spell.

- Upon increasing the spell level, you may choose to upgrade two appropriate aspects of the spell.

Blackthorne rose from his bed then lightly rubbed his hands together. In order to complete the mana-circuit he would need to cast his original Jolt! spell. The imperious version would not be powerful by any stretch of the imagination, but if what he read was correct he would be able to continuously cast it as long as his life force held out.

In the customary manner, he held his hand before him and concentrated on moving his life force to a single point. It did not take long for a softly sparking ball of energy to form before his outstretched palm.

~Anger of the disquiet soul, become my weapon and strike down my enemy. ~

He gritted his teeth as pain lanced through his body. He'd grown used to the sensation over the course of time, but it never quite ceased to bring him pain. The air around his energy ball began to crackle and spark wildly.

“Jolt!” he cried in exultant relief that was almost a parody of the first time that he manage to properly cast the spell.

As it always did, the crackling sphere of light whirled around in front of his palms then split into five separated streams of energy. Static electricity popped and crackled loudly just before tiny bolts of black lightning arced visibly from the space beyond the tips of his fingers.

Blackthorne blinked as something shifted inside of him. A vibrant buzzing sensation worked its way up along his spine from his abdomen then shot through his outstretched hand and into the air just beyond it. He stared at the sudden emergence of a strange array of symbols that seemingly spawned in mid-air. He recognized a pentagram nestled within two concentric circles, but between the lines of those circles glowing gibberish appeared.

His biggest shock came when the lightning that had crackled anemically from his fingers drew inward and concentrated themselves upon the center of the mystical seal. His life force dropped like a rock as the mana-circuit continued to form. A brilliant ball of energy formed at the center of the seal then broke apart into five streams of jet-black lightning that shot forward a distance of roughly one foot through the air.

Sweat poured down his forehead as the circuit continued to form. Eventually, he collapsed onto his bed as the last of his life force was spent on the creation of his new power. "T-the hell... that better not happen every time," muttered Blackthorne.

His muttering was silenced a moment later when a soft familiar feminine voice whispered something surprising. "Your skill with both Dark Magic and Basic Dark Lightning Mastery have improved considerably."

Though he had exhausted his life force, he had not injured himself during the process of creating his power circuit. Once his energy levels rose high enough for him to sit up, Blackthorne checked his skills once more. He blinked stupidly for a moment, then unleashed a laugh that sounded far too much like an insane villain's maddened cackle of manic glee. Creating a mana-circuit had for the first time came with fabulous results! He'd gained three skill ranks in dark magic, and two rank in basic dark lightning mastery!

Blackthorne hopped out of bed once more then stretched. It would be a good long while before he could train with Jackie that night, so it seemed the perfect time to play with his new abilities. He ate a snack to help bolster his life force regeneration then went splurge some of his limited funds on even more food.

Tonight would be a night of magic, he swore silently to himself. Once he'd gathered up his old trusty sack of apples and a few sandwiches, he set to work.

The mana-circuit that he created was something that fascinated him. He could sense it at all times. In fact, all he needed to do was concentrate on its existence, even slightly, and the mystical symbol would begin to form in front of his palm.

He struck his hand out before him then willed his life force upward through his body and into the symbol which sprang to life before his eyes. Roughly one second after he began the process five jet-black bolts of arcing electricity skittered outward and assaulted the air. He collapsed onto the floor after a few seconds passed, once more pushed beyond his limits. However, he smiled weakly despite the exhaustion.

While the actual Jolt! spell was considerably more powerful in any singular casting, which was saying something considering its general weakness, the continuous casting capacity of the imperious version was worthwhile indeed.

Several hours passed as he created a working routine. However, not long into that second hour Blackthorne looked at his hand then smiled. "Another rank already? That's two for basic lightning mastery, and another dark magic skill increase in the last few hours."

It was true, he'd just gained an additional rank in basic dark lightning mastery. A goofy grin worked its way up onto his face.

He placed his hand to his mouth and made and hissing noise. "The foolish rebels don't stand a chance."

His joviality was cut short by a knock at his door. Blackthorne strutted over to the doorway in high spirits. He opened the door and smile brightly at Jackie.

The apron clad chef looked him up and down for a moment then narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What have you been up to in here, hmm?"

"Nothing, just feeling myself a bit right now," said Blackthorne with a laugh.

She blinked at him then glanced over at the bed. "Well, if you need fresh linens..."

Blackthorne snorted and waved his hands around spastically. With another laugh he said, "Not like that."

She pursed her lips lightly and offered him an arched eyebrow. "Mhmm, so are we still on for training?"

He nodded to her but instead of simply following her out the door as he normally did, he stepped back into the room and invited her in with a grin. "I have something to show you first."

Her arched eyebrow was joined by a wry smile. "Now, you know that type of training costs extra... for now."

Blackthorne laughed again and gestured for her to come inside. Jackie chuckled lightly at his surprisingly high-spirited antics and went into the room. At his request she shut the door behind her.

"So, what's gotten you so worked up?" she asked him curiously.

He raised up one finger then turned sideways and held up his right hand with the palm facing outward. Jackie offered his hand a cursory glance then looked at his face. "I've seen that hand before."

A soft masculine laugh floated through the room for a moment before he raised his left hand and covered his mouth. Jackie listened as he made an odd noise that sounded like he hissed when he took in and exaggerated blowing his breath back out.

"Behold, my dark glory!" exclaimed Blackthorne. He used his Imperious Jolt! technique and sent a skittering skirl of black lightning arcing lightly through the air.

Jackie glanced at the show for the briefest of seconds then rolled her eyes in amusement. With a cheeky grin, she decided to be silly herself. She hopped in front of him and allowed his dark power to erupt across her chest.

Blackthorne stopped casting the spell immediately, but to his surprise all Jackie did was giggle at him and say, "That tickles.... do it again."

Her hair stood up lightly in some places, and her apron now sported too decisively sharp points at the center of her breasts.

Blackthorne blinked when Jackie's face became flush and she bit her lower lip. He nervously back-stepped as she advanced, a certain look in her eye. His inner voices were already starting to speak up.

"Come on... show me your power..." she said with a girlish giggle.

The next time he took a step back he bumped against his bed. He had just enough time to blink before Jackie launched herself through the air and tackled him back and down onto the bed.

Pinned by her far superior strength all he could do was luck up at her with a sheepish expression. "Hey now, said Blackthorne a hint of color coming to his cheeks."

Jackie giggle at him once more then wiggled his hips from side-to-side. "Well, where is it?"

"Where... is what?" asked Blackthorne with a nervous laugh. His left eyelid twitched as the voices in his head started to become a bit, aggressive. One particularly loud one began to disparage both his lack of manhood and the fact that he wanted to use it right now.

She tilted her head to the side then smiled warmly down at him, in what might have been one of the first truly honest smiles that she'd granted in quite some time. Her nostrils flared a little and her expression became strangely cute. There was a slight naivety in her gaze, one that held a hint of actual innocence. In a mildly hopeful tone she said, "Show me this glory yours..."

Blackthorne's gut reaction was to try and push her away, but something about her expression made him pause. One thought echoed through his mind, a thought that drowned out the hateful voices slightly. 'After everything she's been through... she can still look at something like me with eyes like those...'

They stared at each other silently for a time. Pulse pounding in their ears, as the implications of the moment built upon a nervous framework of inhibition and previous good humor.

Blackthorne tried to fight the continual waves of self-recriminations and hateful bullshit that his inner voices shat upon his soul. There were no better words to describe the sensation in his understanding. Each vile invective that they slung toward him stained him in ways that nothing else might ever do.

Jackie looked down at his face, a slight bow forming in the curve of her perfect lips. Those perfect lips parted gently, expectantly as her eye lids slid slowly downward.

Within the battleground that was Blackthorne's mind, the volume of the hateful voices rose to a fevered pitch. Shrieks, screams, and high-octane reprimands assault his psyche. His own inner voice was completely drowned out by the roaring tornado of venomous words that tore at his mind.

Jackie's expectant, and sweetly nervous lips trembled slightly as they neared the end of their approach. Never in her life had she felt such a thing. She'd pressed her lips, and far more, against numerous men in the past. It meant nothing. It was merely flesh touching flesh. Yet, in this moment, it somehow meant everything. Her body heated rapidly as he pounding heart quickened its already racing tempo.

His willpower exhausted, he finally closed his eyes and turned his head to the side in order to deny the hateful voices one last time. Blackthorne's sudden movement broke Jackie out of her reverie and she blinked slowly.

Emotions whirled wildly inside of her and what she could interpret as a denial. She gasped softly. A complicated expression of hurt and bewilderment crossed her face and she drew back slightly. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes as hot tears began to well up.

Somehow, in that moment where she'd allowed herself to become vulnerable her truest nature had surfaced. In her understanding, he'd turned away because he could not accept her.

Select memories from her life flashed through her mind. All of the disgusting things that she'd allowed herself to do to survive while she waited for a chance to have her vengeance. All of the sickening laughter that she'd endured as pathetic men used her body for their own selfish indulgence. All of it rose to the forefront of her mind.

The things that they'd called her. The ways that they had used her. Those memories inundated her mind. She could no longer keep her despair at bay. Tears that only threatened to fall before, slipped free of their moorings and slid down her cheeks.

"Right... No one would want to kiss such dirty lips..." she whispered quietly to herself amid a tearful sob. Never in her life had she wanted something so badly, and yet in the end she was reminded of the truth. Her lips had done things that no good man would accept.

Something happened in that moment as her heartbreaking sob reached Scott's exhausted ears. The maelstrom of venomous screams that assaulted his mind nearly drowned it out. However, at the depths of his despair Jackie's sorrowful words managed to reach him.

It was a lie that he'd heard. The voices had spoken a lie. No one would want to kiss Jackie's lips? She was dirty? Despite everything that she'd been through, she was one of the best people whom he'd ever met in his life.

Anger. A growing rage all his own began to well up inside of his exhausted consciousness. No one deserved to be called dirty because of a terrible life someone else forced onto them. The voices howled, they tried to suppress him.

Buried in a watery grave of visceral sludge and hateful feces, that was the sensation that those words caused him to feel. Drown in the truth of your own wickedness, those voices seemed to tell him.

Yet, despite how the pressure built inside of his mind, he could not relent. Speak ill of him all they like, he knew for a fact that Jackie was nothing of what they spoke.

As he was forced deeper and deeper down into the depths of his mind, his thoughts came faster. The world outside his inner hell seemingly slowed down to a crawl. It was as though he were trapped in a terrible nightmares that spanned hours, yet less than a second might pass in the real world.

There was no strength left within him, but he wanted to fight back. His failing mind railed against the drowning sea of disgusting words and sickening imagery that assaulted him. Despite his desire to break free, there was no strength left in him. Even now his body was frozen in time while his soul was wracked by the hateful words of his inner demons.

Finally, after struggling for so long he was able to grasp a shred of his own true will and unleashed a tiny, imperceptible whisper against the maelstrom of screams that assaulted his senses. "I'm more than this... Aren't I?"

It was the moment that he whispered those words that something else happened. Something which signaled the beginning of something truly extraordinary within himself.

A voice answered his question with a single word. Soft, warm, and masculine, it was the voice of a loving father. "Remember..."

Suddenly everything stopped. The voices froze mid screech. The drowning sea parted, and then a single sound, like a drop of rain falling against the surface of a perfectly still pond, echoed gently through his thoughts.

Reality shifted. At least that was the only way Blackthorne could think of it. A brilliant flash of light within the depths of his mind gave rise to the sudden inexplicable flash-frozen image of a magnificent garden. Children of all ages seemingly slept nuzzled up against a great golden dragon who itself rested near an impossibly large tree, one gargantuan wing spread out as though to protect them all.

Among those sleeping children, one stood out more than most. A little girl with vivid red hair tied up in a pony-tail slept snuggled up close to the dragon's heart. In her hand she tightly clutched a dove-white feather that gave off a radiant light that seemed to further soothe the hearts of those closest to it.

The sky overhear was overcast with ominous black clouds. Winged humanoid figures could be seen in the distance. One of them, whose image shined more brightly than all but two others, held up a spear made of radiant light. It squared off against a massive and hideously baleful eye that peeked down through the cloud cover.

The image held more to see. In the distance other dragons of various colors, though not many in total, also lightly slept upon the ground and spread their wings to protect a group of slumbering children.

It was incredibly surreal, and completely unexpected. Yet, upon seeing that image an incredible surge of strength began to well up inside of him. Whether it was a product of his growing insanity, or some hereto unknown truth he could not be certain.

As the bizarre image faded and reality reasserted itself, he found that even though it took everything that he had inside of himself to do it, his eyes slowly opened and his hand rose up. Despite the frozen nature of time, and Jackie's equally frozen expression of self-deprecating sorrow, he moved.

His fingers were surprisingly gentle when he exerted the majority of his newly awakened mental remaining strength to clasp her hand. Time began to move once again as his eyes opened fully and he gazed upon her heart stricken face.

He spoke the words that he'd fought so hard to speak despite the demons that plagued his soul. Softly, almost reverently, he said, "There is no part of you that is dirty."

Jackie blinked slowly as though she too were coming out of a bad dream. Her head turned quickly toward Blackthorne and her breathe caught in her throat. She didn't know what she was looking at but it caused her to freeze in place.

Blackthorne stared at her with a penetrating, almost predatory, gaze that somehow did not cause her to feel fear. Instead it gave rise to a warm and comforting sensation. The unabashed and authoritative sincerity in his tone had caught her off guard, but it was his eyes that caused her the most trouble. Something about them made her voice catch and refuse to leave her throat.

No doubt a trick of that her mind played upon her, his eyes almost seemed to shine brightly with a warm inner light. Stranger still, for the briefest of moments his irises had seemed to flatten and narrow like those of a cat or serpent.

"What did you say?" asked Jackie softly, after the moment passed. She glanced down at her hand and his gentle fingers which now curled around it.

Most of his strength spent in the struggle against his own rising insanity, Blackthorne barely had the strength left to act. However, act he did. The voices tried to tear him down once more, but instead he rose.

Jackie's eyes widened suddenly and the color of her cheeks intensified several times over as Blackthorne slipped his arms around her waist and held her close. Softly into her ear he whispered once more, "No part of you is dirty."

No clarifiers were spoken, nor were exceptions made. He did not tell her that no part of her was dirty to him, or would that he could not see as dirty. He stated an emphatic truth. She was not dirty. His words carried a strange weight behind them that Jackie's besieged heart could not fathom. Was this the same man whom she'd come to know? In this moment he seemed so much... more.

Blackthorne's voice carried a nearly indescribable tonal quality that to her ear sounded more like that of a god judging the world and finding it without blame, than that of a man whom only moments before had been excited to make little sparks shoot from his fingers.

His words simultaneously set her heart to race, and cooled the lonesome burning ache that she did not realize that she'd felt until that moment. It was an intolerable sensation. No one should ever have such power over her! Yet, she could not tear herself away in that moment. The words that he had spoken were said in such a simple way and yet she could not help but absolutely believe every syllable. Had she known what a gospel was, she might very well have thought his words to be some sort of gospel truth.

The position is which her held her was one in which she had experienced many times in her life, this was the first time that Jackie felt nervous and shy about it. Her legs tightened gently around his hips and she bit her lower lip. Her arms held him closer as well, and though they did not share the kiss that she'd attempted something far more profound was shared between them in that moment. This time when tears slid down her cheeks they were accompanied by a genuinely happy, if confused, smile.

A soft, contented sigh escaped her lips and she nuzzled down into Blackthorne's broad shoulders. For the first time in far longer than Jackie could remember, she felt clean.

Several warm minutes passed in that way before she spoke up. Uncertain of herself, she attempted to be playful. "Well, look at you trying to steal an innocent young girl's heart..."

She smiled a little and waited for him to respond. He never did.

Jackie said, "Blackthorne?"

This time he did respond, but it was with the sound of a soft snore. Incredulous, Jackie leaned back from his embrace and pouted at him. "Really, now?"

Blackthorne snored once again, even louder this time. Frustrated, and yet amused, she blew out a breath that sent a stray bit of hair flying up out of her face.

The frustration passed and then she laughed, "Yeah, you're definitely a man, alright. Give me a couple minutes of heart ache and good feelings then fall asleep whenever you like."

Jackie slipped forward and pressed her almost-master down onto the bed. She kissed him gently on the cheek then stroked his hair. Not long after, she slipped down and pressed her head to his chest while she embraced him gently. For the remainder of the night she stayed with him while he slept, and for the first time in years she too had a good night's sleep.

***