Operation Guiding Light: It's Love, Jim, but not as we know it... [Pt. 2]

I'm not proud of how I treated Nico, nor am I completely happy with the way I left things with him, especially since his last words to me seemed to indicate that his feelings for me ran even deeper than he was letting on, but there's a sense of relief and the feeling of a weight lifting off my shoulders that washes over me as I go back inside The Blue Saloon with Gabriel and resume our date. 

I secretly wonder if Gabriel really is okay with what happened between me and Nico, deep down. I don't know if I'd be as cool under the same circumstances if the roles were reversed. I can't even handle it when he talks of his past lovers as it is and they're not even here. Not wanting any more disruptions, however, I say nothing. 

He orders us a bit of everything from the menu and shortly after, Cthulhu brings us a selection of dishes to try, with different flavors of flatbread, tortilla chips with dip, curried meats, sweet potatoes, rices, and exotic vegetables that I'd never heard of coated in seasonings that were equally foreign, but no less delicious, to me. 

If you had told me that someday an anthropomorphic squid would serve me food and I'd wolf it down with relish, sitting next to my angel boyfriend, I would've asked what you were smoking. Yet, here we are. It was just one of many extraordinary things that had become completely normal to me over the past few months. 

Gabriel is in two minds about whether to order dessert but when I tell him I want to try more of the sorbet slush that he was eating last night when I came over, he relents. I order lemon and he, blueberry, and when I'm done with mine, I want to try his also which earns me my second, albeit less hostile, eye roll of the night. 

He is, of course, amused by my ability to eat large quantities of food because- and I quote- "You're just a tiny girl". I remind him that, as a dancer, I have to eat a lot otherwise I'd be skin and bone instead of lean muscle. 

We talk more about our childhoods and Gabriel asks me what the beaches were like where I lived and whether I spent much time there. I tell him that my childhood was mostly split between the city and my grandmother's countryside estate. Plus I was dancing a lot, so I didn't get to go as much I'd have liked, though I did ride her horses along the beach the few times I went which were some of the happiest childhood memories I have. I also tell him that most of the swimming I did as a child was done was in my grandmother's (not natural) pool.

This prompts me to tell him the memory of the last time I ever saw my mom, and Nina, the day she disappeared.

"You still think about that a lot, don't you?" He says, his gaze turning intense and observant. 

"I do." I say quietly. 

He leans in closer, his arm moves from the back of the booth to around me. I let my head rest on his shoulder. "I hope you know that what happened to your mom, and to Nina, wasn't your fault," he kisses the top of my head, "I know you've probably been told that before but I want you to hear it from me, too." 

I nod. "Thank you."

"Your mom sounded like an extraordinary person," he continues, stroking my cheek with his fingertip, "I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her. That I can remember, I mean." 

I smile at his words. "I'm sorry she didn't get to meet you, too. I bet she would've had a heart attack when I brought you home and she realized who you were."

"You think she still would've done what she did, if she knew how things would turn out?" He asks.

We both laugh. The question is rhetorical, because of course she would've, but it's still funny to think about nonetheless. 

~*~

The Observation Deck had witnessed some of the most significant moments in Gabriel and I's relationship so far; the first time he ever saw me dance, the first time we confessed how we felt about each other, our first kiss. So it only seems right that, after we finish our desserts (or, more specifically, I finish mine and half of his), we ask behind the bar for a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses to take out, Gabriel retrieves a blanket from his room and we lay it down on the shiny floor under the glass dome ceiling so that we can play make-believe that we're stargazing in the middle of a meadow or on a beach somewhere, instead of drifting through deep space. 

Gabriel lays back on the blanket with his hands behind his head occasionally pointing upwards as he tells me excitedly and at length about the constellations and clusters of stars that pass over us. 

I know it sounds bad but sometimes I'm so in awe of how beautiful Gabriel is that I forget how incredibly smart he is also. Before I came here, I always thought I would be content getting by in life on my athleticism and dancing talent but he inspires me to want to work on my mind, too. I'd learned so much from him, and the others, already. 

With that being said, however, I find myself looking more at him than at the things he's talking about. 

He talks about all the places in the galaxy he wants to show me. "We could go to Phaedra first, of course, so that you can see for yourself where your mom came from," he says. "Then we'd go to Lyrica, so I can show you where I was born. We'd go sight-seeing all day, to the opera in the evening, eat expensive food and drink wine in the best restaurants and stay in hotel rooms so high you have to look down to see the clouds."

I lay beside him with my head on his chest, just listening to him speak. I can feel his heart beating against my cheek, the passion in his voice. 

"We can vacation in Nibera. I'll teach you to surf and and then we'll sit on the beach and watch the three suns set every evening." He runs his fingers through my hair as he continues, "You could study and learn traditional Niberan dance with the locals, who would be more than happy to teach you?" It's abundantly clear that he's given this a lot of thought. "We'd have such an amazing time together, Mist." 

When he notices me looking at him, he stops, looks worried for a moment before asking, "Sorry, am I talking too much?"

I shake my head. "Not at all," I tell him, stifling a smile. "You're just so cute when you get talking about something you're excited about." He looks a bit embarrassed so I try to distract him with a kiss.

A few sips of wine later, I actually manage to convince him to get up and dance with me. Okay, so we're just kind of holding each other close and swaying from side to side, but it's a start. 

Gabriel's touch is noticeably softer, deliberate and more sensual than it had been earlier in the evening. The way he lightly strokes the exposed skin on the small of my back between the hem of my top and the waistband of my leggings, the way he rests his cheek on the top of my head, smells my hair and sighs.

"Listen, I'm sorry if it feels like we did things backwards," he whispers against my cheek, "like, maybe we should've done this first before we slept together?"

I lift my head to look into his face and read his expression. 

"But, Mist, I've never felt anything like this before, I-"

"-Me neither," I interject. Is that what he thinks has been bothering me? "I wanted it just as much as you. And I could've said 'no'."

Old me would've never even considered sleeping with a guy on the first date, let alone before the first date. I'm not sure if you'd call it 'growth' exactly, but I guess everyone has that one person they would break all their own rules for. I was no exception. 

He looks relieved, rests his forehead against mine. "I was afraid you were overwhelmed and didn't want to tell me?" 

I cast my gaze downward. Truth is, I am overwhelmed but not for the reason he thinks. 

"What about you? Do you feel overwhelmed?" I ask, looking back up. 

"No." He says with no hesitation, the way he did last night, right before we made love. 

Then, before I can say anything else, he whispers, "Stay with me, Mist."

"I am staying with you." I laugh, nervously. I'm beginning to feel a lot like I did when I was with Nico and he was asking to see me again and I had to act my ass off to try and deflect him from seeing how I was truly feeling. 

Gabriel sees right through me, though. "I don't just mean tonight," he says lifting my chin with his finger so I have no choice but to look him in the eye. "You are going to stay for good, aren't you?" 

So much for no more disruptions. Why, oh why did he have to ask me this now? 

I can feel my eyes misting over with tears as I barely get my words out, "I- I want to Gabriel, I really do, it's just-"

"-'Just', what?" Up until then we were still gently swaying from side to side, but he stops and pulls back a little. I can see him looking at me, trying to make sense of my reaction to a question that, from his perspective, should have an obvious answer. 

"Gabriel, please-"

"-'Just', what Misty?" He asks again, impatiently. 

I bite my lip and look away, attempting to blink back the tears welling in my eyes and failing miserably. 

"It's just that," I inhale sharply, swallow hard. I look back up and force myself to look him in the eye as I say: "I have to go to Purgatory."

Gabriel looks as though I've just reached into his chest, ripped out his heart with my bare hands then threw it on the floor and stomped on it on front of him. He takes another step back, so that we're not touching at all anymore. 

"The fuck you do!" he all but snarls at me. "How long have you been thinking this?"

"Off and on, ever since Solaris proposed it." 

Gabriel shakes his head and sighs angrily. "I'm gonna kill him for putting the idea in your head..." he says more to himself than to me. "I wish you would've told me you were still considering it before I slept with you." 

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning unless I'd made up my mind and I hadn't then!" I know he's upset but I don't like the tone he's taking with me. "And besides, what difference would it have made?"

He glares at me. "It means I could've made an informed decision about whether I wanted to let myself fall for you, get attached to you, imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of my life with you before go you ahead and sacrifice yourself."

I glance down at the floor. I don't know what else to do or say to that.

"And what do you mean, you 'hadn't made up your mind then'?" He continues. "What, sleeping with me made you realize you had a death wish?" 

"No! It made me realize just how much I love you and want to be with you!" I tell him, looking up and taking a step forward, placing my hands on his chest, attempting to reconnect with him. "Everything you were just talking about- the beach, the opera, the sunsets- I want that with you. All of it. And more!" 

"That doesn't make any sense." He says.

I sigh. I'm trying to gather my thoughts so that I can articulate them in a way that he will understand. "Nina's there." I state as calmly as I can, "It's too late for my mom, but there's still a chance for Nina. You think I can be at peace, just happily living my life with you, doing all the things we talked about, knowing in the back of my mind that Nina was in trouble and I did nothing to help her? I've wasted enough time as it is."

"Wasted time? Is that all this has been for you?"

"That's not what I meant." My voice is trembling.

"Mist," Gabriel runs a hand through his hair in frustration, "I want to liberate Purgatory just as much as you, I do. I literally signed up for this. But it doesn't have to be you who goes."

"If not me, then who?" I throw my arms out. "You know as well as I do that most of the hybrids that exist are created in labs by the Draco and disposed of when they're no longer useful. And those that exist organically are few and far between and most of those are walking around without any clue as to who, or what, they are. I didn't even know myself until a couple of months ago! It could take forever before you find another suitable volunteer. If you find one at all."

"It's a suicide mission, and you know it!" He points angrily. 

"Not necessarily..." 

"Yes necessarily!" He reaches forward, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking pleadingly into my eyes. "Mist, I don't think you fully realize what those bastards are capable of."

I scowl. "How can you say that?" I'm very aware of what the Draco did to my mother and he knows that. I'm not proud of what I say next but I feel cornered, trapped. "Besides, you're not my handler, you can't stop me from going." I remind him, an echo from one of our previous disagreements. 

He tries to remain stoic but I can see him flinch slightly at my words. "You're right, I'm not," he says, his voice low, "I'm the man who loves you. So forgive me if I'm not thrilled by the idea of you being tortured, or killed... or worse." 

Or worse. This time it's my turn to flinch.

"I'm not like the other volunteers, Gabriel. I can use that to my advantage."

I can feel his grip on me loosen a little. "Being special is no guarantee of anything."

"I know that."

He avoids my gaze as he asks, "And your mind is made up? There's nothing I can do or say to change it?" 

I think about that for a second. I know he told me not to blame myself for what happened to Nina, but it's easier said than done. It was the play date I had invited her to that she was on the way home from when she was abducted. Now, presented with the opportunity to put things right, however terrifying and seemingly hopeless, my conscience simply wouldn't let me be. "No, I guess there isn't."

He lets go of me so suddenly that I stumble backwards a little. "Well thanks for putting me in this position Misty," he turns away, "Thanks a lot."

Just a few short days ago I was still a virgin with no love life to speak of. Now, I had been with two guys and somehow managed to piss them both off.

"Wait, where are you going?" I ask as he starts to walk away. 

He stops, but doesn't turn around. "I just need a minute to get my head around the fact that you really might not be coming back from this." 

"Gabriel..?" I rush forward, try to pull him into my arms, but he shrugs me away. 

He turns to face me then, his eyes brimming with hurt and disbelief. "The Draco took my mother, my father," he throws his arms out, slowly backing away from me, "and now they're taking you away from me, too." Those are his parting words before he stalks down the corridor until he's out of sight. 

I numbly stand there watching him leave, under the glass ceiling, holding onto myself, too stunned to allow the fresh tears in the corner of my eyes to fall. I don't even attempt to follow him, sensing that it will just piss him off even more.  

This... was precisely what Solaris was afraid would happen. 

I guess now we could add our first fight as a couple to the list of significant moments in our relationship that The Observation Deck had witnessed. 

~*~

Cthulhu gives me a curious look as I sheepishly return the half-empty wine bottle and glasses to The Blue Saloon, alone, and not at all in the high spirits I was in when we left earlier. He moves his head to one side then the other before saluting me with his claw. 

I have Gabriel's blanket tucked under one arm so I salute back using the other. "Thanks for everything, Cthulhu. Have a good night." I force a smile.  

He nods as I turn away. 

I manage to hold it together until I make it back to my room but one glance at the jar of sunflowers on my nightstand and I feel like someone just punched me in the gut. I briefly debate whether I should sleep on it before I try speaking to Gabriel again but I already know how that's going to go.  

Before I can talk myself out of it, I head back out the door. 

I can feel my heart pounding against my chest as I approach his room. "Gabriel?" I say tapping against the door, my voice timid like a child. "It's me." 

Silence. 

Maybe he's home but not ready to talk yet. Maybe he's walking it off on another part of the ship. Or maybe he's gone to vent to Solaris or Morgana. Either way, faced with the prospect of an anxiety-ridden sleepless night, I find myself blinking back yet more tears. I just want to speak to him, figure out what we're going to do. If we're even 'we' anymore. 

The door slides suddenly open then, startling me. Gabriel stands there, illuminated by neon blue, an almost empty beer bottle in hand. For the first time since I have known him, I'm unable to tell what he's thinking or feeling.

"I brought your blanket back." I say, holding it out to him. 

He looks down at it for a moment before taking it from me. "Thanks."

Anxious, I fold my arms across myself. "Are you still mad at me?"

He sighs, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I-"

Oh.

"Oh. Oh, okay," I hold myself even tighter. "Well, goodnight then." I start to back off, turning away before he sees the tears I've been holding back start to fall. 

"Mist. Wait." 

When I look around, he glances down, shakes his head. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right." He sighs again. "Do you want to come inside?" 

I nod. 

He steps aside as I make my way in. The door closes behind us and Gabriel places the beer bottle down on the kitchen counter and tosses the blanket onto the bed. He looks at me expectantly but I just turn my gaze to the floor. It's funny how desperately I wanted to talk to him and now I that I was here, I had no idea what to say. 

I must've looked nervous because he takes the initiative, reaching for my hand, leading me to the leather chair where he sits and pulls me onto his lap. I could cry with relief as he pulls me close, wrapping both arms around me in a tight embrace. I curl up, letting my head drop, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm so sorry for putting you through this." I finally whisper. 

"Don't apologize," he whispers back, "If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. Like I said, I signed up for this," he takes my hand before he continues, "I just... wasn't prepared for it to feel so personal, you know?"

I lift my head then, gaze into his face. 

"Turns out avenging the death of parents you have no conscious memory of is very different to embarking on a rescue mission for someone you love in the here and now." He says with a sad, resigned smile.

"This is just something I have to do," I say softly, running my fingers through his hair. "Nina needs me."

He nods. "I wish it didn't have to be this way." 

"Me too."

He looks me directly in the eyes, lightly stroking my cheek with his fingertips as he tells me, "I won't stop until I find you. I'm bringing you, and Nina home, no matter what. I promise."

I can't help but think then about what Morgana said about soul ties and how this all feels like some kind of karmic balancing act. My mother had saved Gabriel's life when he was too young to defend himself and now we'd been brought together so that he could protect me from suffering the same fate as she. 

"I believe in you." I whisper. I would've never considered going if I didn't.  

He smiles and pulls me in for a brief kiss. "Mist?" He says, our lips parting, "Would you... consider moving in here with me?" 

My head cocks to the side in confusion. Is he really asking what I think he's asking?

"I know we've only spent one night together, but," he pauses to brush the stray hair from my face. "I want to spend every moment I can with you before you go." 

After the stress of our fight his words are like a soothing balm to my heart. "Oh, Gabriel, of course I will!" My arms snake around his neck and I can feel him smiling against my lips as I pull myself in for a longer, deeper kiss. His arms encircle me once again as he kisses back.

I reach down, lifting his t-shirt and sliding my hand underneath. My mouth leaves his as I trail warm, breathy kisses along his cheek, jawline and neck. 

I feel him shift underneath me and I know he's getting aroused. I am, too. 

I keep kissing his neck as I caress his chest and stomach with the palm of my hand, travelling lower and lower until I reach the waistband of his jeans, lightly tracing along it with my little finger.

Gabriel doesn't waste a second. I can hear the sound of a button popping followed by a zipper being pulled down. His breath hitches as my hand wanders lower still, through the coarse hair down there, stroking the full length of him with my fingertips. He's already hard, but he grows even harder as my hand encloses around him, stroking rhythmically. 

I've never done this to a guy before so I'm listening and watching intently for his cues as to what he wants me to do, much like he did with me the night before. His breathing becomes gradually more ragged. I increase the pressure, the motion of my hand speeding up. His skin starts to feel warm and clammy and I wonder if I should stop, though the curious part of me doesn't want to.

He abruptly grabs my wrist and at first I think I've done something wrong, but then he gazes up at me with his beautiful brown eyes and gasps, "Do you want to take this over to- ?" 

"-Yes." Oh yes. 

We keep kissing as we stagger over to the bed and help each other undress. My hands are trembling. I'm more nervous now than I was last night. So much has happened in the short time between then and now. Despite everything, I still feel so terribly guilty for letting Gabriel get so close to me before dropping the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb on him. Morgana's words about love being worth the risk, especially when the stakes are high drown out my fears as I lay back on the bed. 

As Gabriel kisses down my neck, over my breasts, my ribs, my stomach, I can see the spiritual sex book on the nightstand out of the corner of my eye but then I feel him inside me and my focus is quickly redirected. 

I don't know if it was the lingering emotions from our fight, or the threat of being separated hanging over us, but we proceed to make love as if the world was ending tomorrow; intense, uninhibited, until the sweat was dripping from every pore. I don't hold back; I just let the soft moans free from my throat, culminating in one drawn out, ragged sigh as I finish. 

Gabriel lets out a gasp that, without context, I wouldn't have known if he was in intense pleasure or intense pain. My heart is pounding as he comes crashing down on me. I can feel his labored, panting breath against my skin. I pull him close, clinging to him as though my life depended on it. God, if this is a dream, please don't wake me...

It isn't a dream of course, but when we draw apart, I feel sad, bereft almost, as if I were slowly, and reluctantly, waking up from one. I glance over at him. He looks exhausted enough to pass out. I stare up at the ceiling, my hair splayed out in disarray over the pillow. I reach up, nonchalantly twisting a loose tendril between my fingers. I can't think of anything to say; my body has already expressed everything I feel and now I'm spent, mentally as well as physically. 

Gabriel is silent, too. So silent that, for a moment, I think he actually has passed out but then I feel the bed shift and his warm hand slinking underneath the covers, over the bare skin of my stomach. My gaze flutters in his direction. He's sitting up with his head in his other hand, a devilish grin adorning his angelic face, golden hair as tousled as mine. 

I turn my focus back to the lock of hair between my fingertips.

"Gabriel?" 

"Hmm?" 

"That book on your nightstand... what's it about?"

"... 'about'?"

"Is it like the Kama Sutra?" I ask, my voice child-like despite the nature of my query. 

There's a brief pause as he processes the question before he bursts into laughter which, judging by the volume and force behind it, the Kama Sutra isn't just infamous back home on Earth. It's known in the wider galaxy, too.

Confused by his reaction, I replay my words in my head but this time I hear it the way he must've heard it and I start laughing, too. 

As our laughter fades, I reach up to gently stroke his cheek with the back of my finger. "You didn't answer the question."

He cringes. "Oh, come on, Mist..."

I quirk an eyebrow. Is he being evasive? Surely he's not embarrassed? He left the book there when he knew I was coming over and that I would see it. He must've known I would have questions.

I bring myself up to his level, turning on my side to face him. I reach out and stroke his arm attempting to encourage him to open up to me. "Well, if it's not like the Kama Sutra, then what is it?" 

Realizing that resistance was futile and I'm not going to let it drop, he falls back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"I got it a couple of years ago, after a dream I had right before I broke it off with Sophia for good," he finally says, a lopsided, boyish smile forming on his lips, as if recalling a happy memory. 

A dream? I tense up at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name but I know I have to push past it if I'm going to get the answers I'm seeking. I close the inches between us, pulling myself in and now I'm the one gazing down upon him. "Must have been some dream?" I say, planting a kiss in the center of his chest. 

I can feel his hand reach up, stroking the back of my head, gently running his fingers through my hair. "It was."

"Tell me about it?" I ask, softly. 

He looks pensive for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. He takes a deep breath.

"We hadn't been getting along for a while," he says, exhaling slowly, "I don't even really know why I was still going back to see her at that point."

"Sometimes it's hard to break a habit." I offer.

"Right." He agrees, with a faint chuckle.  

"Anyway, to cut a long story short," he continues, "we got into a big fight, probably the biggest one we ever had, and I ended up storming out of her place. I knew then it was over but Sophia could be very persuasive when she wanted to be and never was one to take 'no' at face value."

Despite my aversion to the topic of Gabriel's past relationships, the curious part of me, the part that desperately wants to know him, body, mind and soul is utterly transfixed by his words. 

"It was late and I was tired and in a bad mood, so I headed to a hotel. All I wanted to do was sleep and gather my thoughts so that I could wake up with a clear head, break it off with her and get out of there as early as I could the next morning."

I tentatively let my head rest on his shoulder, my fingertip lightly tracing invisible patterns on his skin. 

"So there I was, in this dark, unfamiliar room, almost asleep when I suddenly got this overwhelming feeling I'm not alone, that there was someone else there with me..."

He goes quiet then. He stops playing with my hair and his hand travels down to my shoulders while his other arm slides around my waist, placing his hand on the small of my back, pulling me in even tighter against him. 

"Oh?" I admit I'm a little nervous about where this is going.

"I tried to ignore it at first, but then I feel the bed shifting as if someone was climbing on it, and then she put her hand on me-"

"-She?"

He feels me start to tense up so he quickly tucks his thumb and forefinger under my chin, forcing me to look up and at him.

"Yeah," he states, grabbing my hand and pressing our palms together, "I feel this woman's hand stroking my face and running her fingers through my hair. I was so tired, my first thought was that it was Sophia, trying to make-up with me and I was about to shrug her away but then, it dawns on me that she doesn't know where I am."

Our fingers interlace as he says the next part, "the way she touched me, Mist, she made it seem like I was so familiar to her, like it was second nature, yet I had no clue who she was, or who she could've been. I tried to open my eyes to look at her but it was dark, and she almost wasn't fully 'there' or something, like an apparition or a ghost." His other hand then travels back from my shoulder up into my hair again, "But then I knew for sure that it wasn't Sophia because when she leaned over and kissed me, her hair fell over me, tickling my face and chest, and it was really, really long... soft and silky..."

My heartbeat starts to quicken but for a different reason than I was expecting. My gaze darts to when his hands are placed on my body in relation to his words. Maybe I'm misinterpreting what he's saying, but... he's not implying what I think he's implying...

...is he?

"I could sense the love she felt for me, like it was just radiating off her. And before I knew it, I was kissing her back..."

For the next few moments I listen, captivated, as he describes how after they started kissing, things kept escalating and escalating until she climbed on top of him and...

"...And even though she was an apparition, I could feel everything so distinctly... the texture of her hair, the shape and taste of her lips," he tells me as he lightly drags his thumb across my mouth, "the way her breasts fit perfectly in the palms of my hand," my breath hitches as he reaches down, cupping my breast, which does in fact, fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, "her toned thighs," his hand glides down over my hip, down over my thigh and behind my knee drawing my leg up and across him, "how utterly incredible it felt to be inside her..." He looks at me and I look at him, "It was the most powerful experience of my life... until you," he (wisely) adds, tapping the end of my nose with his fingertip. 

"It all felt so real but when I woke up the next morning, I was alone. For the next few weeks, this girl was all I could think about. Sophia accused me of seeing someone else when I told her it was over and I didn't deny it because, in a way, she was right. It got so bad that any time I tried, or even thought about being with anyone else after that, it felt wrong. Like I was... being unfaithful? I refused to believe that I could feel that way if she was just a figment of my imagination. I was convinced that she was out there somewhere and was determined to find her. So, I bought the book to try and see if I could learn ways to train my mind to bring her to me again."

"And did you..?" I ask.

He gives me that knowing smile again, the one he gave right before he told me he loved me for the first time, "What do you think?" He lightly drags his finger across my cheek. 

I've heard enough. "Gabriel Zion Reska," I say as I pull his hand away from my face, prop myself up onto my elbow, "you promised me that you didn't have any more surprises for me!" I give him a slight shove. 

Gabriel sighs and rolls his eyes at me as if he knew this is how I would I react and that's why he was initially reluctant to tell me. He mirrors me, sitting up on his elbow too. 

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you had a sex dream about me two years before we even met?" Indignantly, I pull the covers up over my, up until that moment, exposed breasts. 

Unfazed, he just grins and asks, "Did you ever have a dream like that?" I can tell he wants so badly for me to confirm that I had the same dream from the opposite perspective.

I think about it for a moment. Out of all the fantasies and scenarios I've dreamt up in my head over the years, not one of them involved floating up out of my body and indulging in a night of passion with a tired, disillusioned starship trooper from across the galaxy. 

"No. Sorry."

Gabriel looks away, laughs and shakes his head. "It was just a dream, Mist. Don't worry about it."

I frown and cast my eyes downwards. A dream so vivid, so powerful that it practically forces you to re-order your life around it is hardly 'just a dream'. It occurs to me then that I've unintentionally uncovered the reason why he chose to remain celibate for the past two years.

"Hey," he says, tucking his thumb and forefinger under my chin again. I look back up at him, "you know I love you irrespective of any dream, right?"

To be clear, I'm not worried that Gabriel's interest in and attraction to me might've been sparked by a dream; More like, I just feel like the whole time we've known each other, he's had this upper hand in our relationship. Like, knowing that I was the daughter of the woman who saved his life as an infant, so he had a heads-up on why he felt so connected to me. Unlike me, who has been struggling with the intensity of my emotions, even going so far as losing my virginity to a guy I didn't love because I wanted to make him jealous, make him feel as I did when I thought he was off screwing Sophia. And now, with this dream, he had two whole years to re-order his life before I came into it, whereas I was just plopped into everything, having to navigate my feelings for him on top of all of other the things I've been dealing with these past few months. It just didn't seem fair. 

Still, I know now isn't the time to get upset over things that don't really matter; we found each eventually and we're together now. 

"I know you do," I say softly, placing my hand on his chest and leaning in so our foreheads are touching. I can feel his breath against my face as he lets out a relieved laugh. 

He reaches up and round the back of my neck, slowly and softly pressing his lips to mine. I can feel myself melting under the warmth of his gaze, his touch, his taste. I find myself desperately wanting to make love with him again. 

"You know," he whispers, pulling away and looking into my eyes, "the way I felt in that dream? That's exactly how I feel when I'm with you." 

I smirk, "So, you don't feel like you're being unfaithful when you're with me?"

He laughs, "No, not at all, in fact," he cocks his head to the side and strokes my cheek with his fingertips, "I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, with exactly who I'm supposed to be there with."

I nod in agreement. "Me too," I tell him, as we lean in and our lips meet once again. 

Operation Guiding Light: It's Love, Jim, but not as we know it... [Pt. 1]

There's no fooling Morgana when I breeze through the door to her clinic later that morning, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

"Hey, Morgie, do you need help with anything?" 

She takes one glance at me, smiles, folds her arms and throws me an expectant look. 

"What?" I say, defensively. 

"Sleep well after your 'run'?" She grins.

"Huh?" I had completely forgotten about our conversation outside the elevator. 

She doesn't let it go though. 

"Misty, darling, I know I may not look it, but I am quite a bit older than you and I know a young woman in love when I see one." She points a finger, wiggling it accusingly in my direction. 

Internally, I debate whether I should just come clean or keep up the pretense. If I were back home, Jezebel would probably be bombarding me with questions and begging for tidbits of information (now that I had 'tidbits'). But Jezebel isn't here. Morgana is. And she is on our side, and... oh, screw it.  

I let the smile I've been suppressing slowly beam across my face. 

"I knew it," she says, narrowing her eyes, "And, who, dare I ask, is the object of your affections?" 

"Gabriel," I tell her. 

Morgana nods, as if confirming a suspicion that she had. She steps forward and puts her hand on my arm, "Well, I'm very pleased for you both." She then turns and goes back to what she was doing before I came in. 

I had mostly come to terms with the fact that I would never see or speak with my mom again, but during moments like these, I find myself wishing I was sharing it with her and not other, substitute maternal figures in my life. And it makes me feel so guilty because Morgana is absolutely amazing.  

"Thanks Morgie," I fold my arms across myself, "Now, if only Solaris would be as understanding as you when he finds out."

"Would you like me to have a word with him for you?" 

I shake my head, "Not necessary," I say, "Gabriel and I are gonna meet up for dinner in The Blue Saloon tonight. If people see us and assume that we're together we're not going to tell them otherwise. And if Solaris happens to be one of them, then..." I shrug, threading my thumbs through the belt-loops of my shorts. 

"Sounds like a plan."

"But, if he takes it really badly, the offer is still good, right?" I quickly add. 

Morgana chuckles. "Of course, dear."

I sigh. "Do you think we're overreacting?" 

She looks thoughtful for a moment, "Oh darling, the thing about Solaris is, if he gives you a hard time, it's not because he doesn't understand how you're feeling," she comes towards me again, looks me square in the eyes, "it's because he does."

I turn my gaze to the floor. The image of stern, stoic Captain Solaris staring forlornly at the hologram of his late wife on the Draco 'dead-and-missing' registry still lives rent-free in my head. Morgana, who has known Solaris way longer than I have, is familiar with his torment, too. 

"So, just because it's painful to lose someone you love, you shouldn't even try?" 

"You're preaching to the converted on that one, my dear. I'm with you. I believe love is always worth the risk. Even, no, especially when the stakes are high." She raises a forefinger to emphasize her last point. 

I shift uncomfortably. Given my current situation, I just know her words are going to come back to haunt me at some point.

"All I'm saying is, his reaction might not seem so daunting when you realize it's coming from a place of love for the both of you." 

The idea of Solaris feeling any type of love for me is a strange one considering I mostly just seem like a necessary nuisance to him. Something to be tolerated because I may be useful to his objectives at some point. I smile at the thought, though. 

~*~

Every time I think Gabriel can't take my breath away more than he already does, he always manages to surprise me.

He shows up at my room at the agreed time, in his dressy-casual best; an unbuttoned army green shirt that compliments the golden honey shade of his hair, over a tight white t-shirt, black jeans and ankle boots. A fresh layer of coco-nutty goodness exuding from his skin. 

"Hey you." 

My face can barely contain my smile as he greets me with the same words I used when I showed up at his place last night. He leans in to kiss me, before handing me a bouquet of sunflowers complete with a jar to put them in.

"Awww, thank-you," I say taking them from him, before blurting, "Where'd you find sunflowers in the middle of outer space?" 

"Junior botanist on the basement level." He tells me as he strides inside.

Of course. Silly me. 

"I noticed you had a sunflower key-chain on your bag, so I took a shot." He says, with a boyish shrug. 

"You did good," I tell him, giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

I make my way over to my tiny kitchen area so that I can fill the jar up with water. 

"Listen, I ended up telling Morgana about us," I admit apologetically, "I hope that's alright?"

"Yeah, I know, she took me into her office for a 'quiet word' earlier. I think it was her way of saying: 'Congratulations on getting laid'," he says, which makes us both laugh. He then takes his focus off me for a second to do a quick scan of my room and exclaims, "Gods, Mist, did they run out of closets to stuff you in?" 

I don't have much- only what was on me on the night I was first brought on board and anything I've accumulated since I've been here- but I've done what I can with the limited space to make it feel like my own. 

"Good job I'm not claustrophobic, huh?"

"Ah, don't worry," he sits down on the edge of my little bed, ducking down so as not to hit the upper bunk, "You can stay with me again tonight," he states before quickly adding, "If you want to, that is."

I turn to face him, clutching my flowers, "I'd like that, thank you."

He looks subtly relieved, as if there was a very real possibility in his mind that I'd say 'no'. Or perhaps, more accurately, that I'd flake out on him, like I did with Nico. 

I can feel his eyes follow me as I drift over to my nightstand and set my jar of sunflowers down on it. 

"Gods, you are so beautiful," he sighs. 

Morgana, bless her heart, had come through for me yet again, allowing me to raid her wardrobe (something I'd been dying to do since I saw all of the gorgeous colors and floaty, feminine fabrics she wears when she's not on duty as a medic). And while she and I are two different body types, she had a silken, form-fitting lilac colored gypsy top with corset detailing on the front that revealed just the right amount of cleavage and shoulder without looking trashy, that fit. So, that's what I'm wearing, paired with my black dance leggings and sneakers, my freshly washed and conditioned hair, loose and flowing down my back.

"You're not so bad yourself," I tease as I plop down on the bed next to him and lean in for another kiss. He obliges, pressing his lips to mine and holding them there for a lingering, breathy moment. When we draw apart, however, he's looking at me so intensely I feel like he's trying to read my mind.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asks, holding my gaze. 

"'Better'?" 

"You seemed a bit skittish before we said good-bye this morning," he reaches up to stroke my cheek with the back of his hand, "I feel like something's bothering you but you don't want to tell me what it is." 

I tense up because he's not wrong. But not because I don't want to tell him. Rather, I don't know where to begin to explain the conflict that's going on in my head right now. See, before last night, there was always this unspoken understanding that my current situation was only temporary. 

Ever since I came here, no matter how warm and welcoming my new intergalactic friends were, I'd always felt distinctly like an outsider (nothing to do with how I was treated, just how I felt). But with Gabriel, it was different. I had never felt like an outsider when I was with him. From the moment we first met, he'd made it clear that, to him, I was just a girl - a girl with a passion for dancing, a girl who could be ditzy and silly sometimes, a girl in search of answers about her origins, a girl who just happened to be half-celestial, half-human. 

Realizing the depth of my feelings for him, and acting upon them, had given my current situation a sudden longing for permanency and sense of belonging I hadn't even consciously known I was searching for. Hearing him talk about taking me back with him to visit his childhood home this morning so calmly, like I was already an integral part of his life, was overwhelming. And not because I don't feel the same; the love he's offering is the type of love that I used to lie awake at night for hours fantasizing about. But, as much as I love him, I know that the decision to stay here with him permanently would come at a great cost and huge personal sacrifice. I had a very difficult and terrifying decision to make and it was nearly paralyzing me...

"Like I said, I'm fine," I tell him, pulling his hand away from my cheek and squeezing it an attempt to reassure him (and myself). It doesn't help that my voice just raised by an octave or two. 

He doesn't look convinced but before he can say anything else, I leap to my feet, holding my hand out to him, "Come on, let's go. The night awaits us."

I can see him holding back his laughter as he takes my hand because, of course, it's always night here. 

As we head out the door, I playfully do a little pirouette under his arm before leading him down the hallway on our way to our next big adventure: our first date.

~*~

"So, tell me more about Nibera," I say to Gabriel as we clink our bottles of beer together, sitting next to one another in our corner booth at The Blue Saloon.

"What do you want to know?" He asks, putting his drink up to his lips.

"Tell me about your childhood. What did you like to do for fun when you were growing up?"

He considers my question for a moment. "I liked to surf." 

"Surf? Like, with a surfboard and stuff?" I could definitely see that.

He nods. 

"Didn't you hate getting your wings all soggy?" I ask.

There's that look on his face again when I've said something silly but it amuses him, "Well, I don't typically unfurl my wings when I'm in water." He grins, "You could probably tell from the pictures, but Nibera has a very warm climate. As well as having some of the most beautiful beaches in the galaxy, it also has lots of natural freshwater pools, lakes, waterfalls... so I spent a lot of my childhood in the water, surfing, diving, swimming with dolphins, whales, mermaids-"

"-mermaids?" 

"Yeah, matter of fact," he smirks mischievously before he tells me the next part, "I lost my virginity to a mermaid on my sixteenth birthday."

This time it's me who almost chokes on my drink. When he told me that he and Sophia had known each other since they were kids, I guess I just assumed that they were each other's firsts. I wasn't ready to hear about anyone else he'd been with before me. He obviously knows what my next question is going to be because he preemptively answers for me.

"And before you ask, no we weren't in water and no, she didn't have fins at the time."

Well, that's a relief.

I lean forward, folding my arms on the table, "Must've been a big transition for you, going from the tropics to deep space?" 

"Nah," he says taking another sip, "I always wanted to travel the galaxy, ever since I can remember. It was one of the reasons I studied and memorized the maps of the constellations so hard when I was young. I was ready to come here when I did." 

I smile. Evidence would suggest he'd been aspiring to join the Galactic Federation since he was at least five or six years old. Slowly a bigger picture was forming and I was starting to see why the idea of being perceived as a prince might be burdensome for him. Clearly being raised as a pampered palace brat like he was supposed to would've never suited him if he felt innately called to travel amongst the stars. 

He looks at me thoughtfully for a moment before he says, "What about you," he reaches across the table, taking hold of my hand and lightly dragging his thumb across my fingers, "You ever think about what you might do with yourself if you weren't a dancer?"

The way he asks the question doesn't sit right with me, like he's testing to see how amenable I am to overhauling my whole life for our relationship. Which, as you know, is a conversation I'm just not ready to have. 

I shift awkwardly in my seat. "Gabriel, I-"

Apparently, I'm not the only one who isn't ready because sensing that my answer was more complex than: 'Yes, of course I've considered leaving behind everything I've ever known, and trading my Academy of Dance jersey in for a Galactic Federation jumpsuit', or perhaps attempting to influence my decision, he suddenly leans across and presses his lips to mine, in what I think is going to be just a peck, but then I feel his hand on the back of my head and his tongue prising my mouth open in search of mine.

Conscious of the fact that we're in a public place, I shirk away, "Gabriel! Everyone can see us..."

"So?"

I glance across the room. The bar is fairly empty save for a handful of non-humanoid patrons drifting about. No-one that I recognize, recognizes us, or would even care about us if they did.

I turn back to him and nod, signaling to him that it's okay this time. 

"I love you, Misty," he murmurs against my mouth, once again parting my lips with his tongue.

"I love you too," I manage to murmur back before deepening the kiss. We pull each other close and I even end up draping my leg over his lap to which Gabriel responds by reaching behind my knee and stroking my thigh, not unlike he did last night. We're getting way too into it, but like I said, the other patrons are non-humanoid and won't care about a couple of humanoid celestials engaging in a bit of pre-mating activity in public. 

I'm not sure how long we stay lip-locked like that but it must have been at least a minute, if not two, before I hear the sound of the doors to The Blue Saloon slide open followed by the sound of booted footfalls on the floor that come to an abrupt stop after a couple of steps. 

I don't know why but something compels me to look. My eyes flicker to the doorway. Oh my God. I gasp and wrench my lips away from Gabriel which, in turn, causes him to stop and look in the same direction.

Nico!

I had been so preoccupied with how Solaris would react to Gabriel and I's relationship that I hadn't even considered Nico. I had already explained to him that I didn't feel the same for him as he felt for me and our relationship wouldn't go any further than that one night so it's not like I'm doing anything wrong. Still, I can't help but feel bad. If he'd walked in on us just having a drink together we might've been able to play it off a bit more, but there was no way of explaining away what we were just doing as anything but what it was. 

Nico stares at us blankly for a few seconds before regaining his composure, walking towards the bar with his eyes glued to the floor. He briefly looks up, salutes Gabriel, who salutes back, ignoring me completely.

The next couple of minutes pass in awkward silence as he asks behind the bar for his pre-ordered dinner and waits for it to be handed to him. I can feel Gabriel's grip tighten around me. I feel like I should say something, but I don't know what. 

Finally, after the longest two minutes ever, Cthulhu hands Nico his order and he quickly turns and hurriedly heads back out the door. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

"Do you want me go talk to him?" Gabriel asks me, his hand stroking my back.

"No, I should." I jump to my feet, sprinting out the door. 

"Nico!" 

He's already more than halfway down the corridor but unlucky for him, my natural athleticism enables me to close the distance in less than two seconds flat. 

"Nico, wait!"

He stops and turns so abruptly that I almost go careening into him. 

"I'm so sorry, Nico, I never meant for you to find out like that-"

"-Have I just made a complete fool of myself here, or what?" If looks could kill, I'm sure I would've dropped dead on the spot right then and there.

"What? No, of course not! You didn't do anything wrong, you just... directed your feelings at the wrong girl, that's all."

He rolls his eyes as if I've just made the understatement of the century. "Does he know about you and me?"

"Yes, I told him everything."

He takes a step forward, his hazel eyes boring into me, burning with disappointment. "You know, you really had me fooled. I really thought you were one of the good ones."

I know I've hurt him but I'm not about to back down or let him get away with insulting me.

"Nobody's perfect, Nico." I say firmly, meeting his eye with equal fire.

He backs off a bit then, his gaze softening. "Just tell me one thing; why did you do it, if you knew it was him you really wanted?"

Because I thought he was off doing the exact same thing with Sophia.

Something about my expression must be giving my thoughts away because I can literally see the penny dropping in real-time and the look of realization as he recalls that my somber, despondent mood that night coincided with Gabriel going out to meet Sophia on their pseudo 'date'. 

In the dim light, I think I can see tears forming in the corners of Nico's eyes but they look like tears of frustration and anger, not sadness. 

"Did you mean any of it? Or was it all an act?" 

"I meant it when I said I think you're an amazing guy and that I want us to be friends."

He shakes his head, lets out a bitter laugh. "You're a fucking good actress, I'll give you that."

Again, I'm not letting him off easy. I grab his free hand, squeezing it hard, "No, I really mean it." He looks at our hands then at me as if I'm out of my mind, "If you only knew how badly I'm going to need you to be my friend in the near future..." 

His gaze quickly turns from annoyed and angry to intrigued and confused, "What are you-"

"-You'll find out." I say softly.

The doors to The Blue Saloon slide suddenly open and garish, neon flamingo pink fills the dimly lit corridor. 

"Mist? Everything alright?" 

I peer over my shoulder to see Gabriel's silhouette in the doorway, "Yeah, everything's fine. I'll be there in a minute."

I then glance back at Nico, who now just looks wistful and sad, "You'd better go," he still sounds angry, but resigned, "I know I wouldn't want you out here in the dark wasting time talking with some other guy if I were lucky enough to be in his place."

I nod. "Thanks Nico."

He lifts his hand, the one carrying his food order, salutes me, salutes Gabriel and gives my hand a firm squeeze with the other before finally letting go. 

Operation Guiding Light: Touched By An Angel

I had often wondered how my father fell in love with my mother when so much about her was a mystery to him, but now I think I understand.

Gabriel is all business as he goes about his work day; plotting co-ordinates, inputting them into the neon control panels in the navigation room and giving out commands and directions to the various crafts located across Andromeda. I sit on my hands and observe him, and the rest of the crew, from the corner of the room.

His poker face never wavers, not even once. No stolen glances or flirtatious smiles across the control panel when no-one is looking. No trace of the angelic being who had only yesterday swept me off for a spontaneous tour of the galaxy on his own two wings, kissed me until my knees felt weak and subsequently invited me to his room tonight. I'm still reeling from the admission of his celibacy so I'm not one hundred percent sure what this invitation means but at the very least I figure I will get a glimpse into his inner world and hopefully a little closer to unraveling him.

"Alright guys, over and out," he says, removing his earpiece and handing it to Zoe. 

"Will we see you at The Saloon, later?" She asks him.

My heart flutters into my throat and I try not to look at Gabriel as I wait for him to answer. It feels like an eternity passes before he does. 

"Oh, no, I think I'm just going to turn in. I'm pretty tired."

Zoe then turns her attention to me, "Misty, what about you?" 

I'm not certain but I think Gabriel is making a concerted effort not to look at me, too.

"Um, no, I'm not really in the mood."

"Suit yourselves," she shrugs, "Have a good night. Both of you."

Gabriel has to pass by me in order to leave the room and I first I think he's not going to acknowledge me but as soon as he's done saying goodnight to the rest of the crew he pauses, looks directly at me and says, "G'night Mist," his tone so nonchalant I'm left wondering if he's forgotten, whether it had been a sincere invitation or if I'd just imagined the whole thing.

I get my answer when he reaches about halfway down the corridor, when he's out of view of everyone but me, he spins around, walking slowly backwards with the biggest grin on his face which lets me know that, no, he hasn't forgotten, and yes, he is expecting me. 

I grin my response back to him and he salutes as he disappears behind the shiny elevator doors. 

"Misty," Solaris's commanding, baritone voice from down in the main cockpit brings me back down to earth, "you should think about turning in, too. It's not good for you to stay out of sync with your Terran sleep schedule for long stretches of time."

I know he means well when he says stuff like this but not even my own dad is this bossy or controlling - and he's as overprotective as they come. Still, I bite my tongue and resist the urge to remind him of this.

"I will," I tell him, "in a minute."

Of course, no-one knows the real reason why I don't want to leave yet.

I give what I feel is an adequate amount of time after Gabriel leaves to announce my own departure. The crew casually wave me off for the night then it's my turn to head down the long corridor towards the elevator at the end of it. 

I'm practically sprinting and I almost make it without anyone seeing me when the elevator doors slide open and Morgana steps out. Her face lights up when she sees me. 

I stop dead in my tracks.

She's wearing her medic clothing carrying her tablet on her hip, like a mother carrying her child, "Misty, darling, where are you heading in such a hurry?" Her soothing, feminine tone is, as usual, the polar opposite of Solaris's.

"Oh, I'm just... trying to burn off some of this excess energy before I go to sleep," I cringe internally, realizing how lame and unconvincing I sounded. 

"I see," she says, reaching out and touching my arm in a maternal way, "If you're having trouble sleeping don't hesitate to come see me, okay?" It will never cease to amaze me how Morgana and Solaris can express the exact same concern for me, but in completely opposite ways. 

"Okay," I nod.

She cocks her head to the side and gives me a knowing smile before continuing down the corridor. I can tell she doesn't believe me, but if there's one thing I've learned since I became an honorary crew member of the Manifest Destiny, it's what a hopeless romantic Morgana is. I know she won't say anything to the others. 

I press the button for the floor where I know the navigation crew's living quarters are located. On the way down I catch sight of myself in the metallic walls. I contemplate creating a tiny braid in my hair but change my mind half-way through and my charm bracelet jingles against my wrist as I run my fingers through to de-tangle it.

Confronted by my reflection, a memory of my mother that my father shares with me at least once a year pops into my head; back when their relationship was still a secret, they both got super dressed up one evening and snuck out from my grandmother's house for a formal dinner date event in the city. An event my beautiful but oddball, waifish mother would've never been invited to otherwise. It becomes more and more apparent each time he tells the story that that night was some kind of pivotal moment in their relationship. It was Valentine's Day the year I was born and I'm a Fall baby so, reading between the lines, I've always had the sneaking suspicion that that was the night they conceived me.

I don't see the celestial side of my heritage, that is apparently so obvious to everyone else, in my reflection at all. Of course, this could just be because I've spent my life being constantly told I take after my father. My human father. I do resemble my mother in the face but she was dainty and dad and I are both slender-but-athletic types. All I see is me - in the same denim shorts, pink t-shirt and white sneakers I was wearing the night I was first brought onboard the Manifest Destiny - on my way to explore this fever dream of a relationship I'd found myself in.

I'm unsure whether it's nerves, excitement or both but I start to feel a bit... tingly. I fold my arms across myself in an attempt to hold myself together. 

As I exit the elevator and tiptoe down the softly lit corridor I can't help but notice how unearthly quiet it is. So much so that when I reach the door marked 'G. Reska' I don't so much as knock as tap on it with my fingertips.

The door slides silently open and cool, fluorescent aquatic blue light spills out from inside.

Gabriel stands there by the kitchen counter, all six feet of him, freshly showered, rubbing his hair with a towel, sweatpants on, perfectly sculpted torso on full display. He's so, so beautiful it makes me feel like I'm looking at a piece of artwork rather than a living, breathing being. It's almost overwhelming; everything about him from the dark warmth of his eyes to the milky coffee hue of his skin is so inviting. But that's hardly surprising when he has the blood of angels running through his veins.

"Hey you," I say softly.

"Hey," he says, mirroring my gentle tone, "come on in."

My sneakers tap on the shiny black floor as I make my way inside. The door slides shut behind me.

"Have you eaten? I can make you something if you're hungry?" He asks, tossing the towel into a side room which I assume is his bathroom. 

My stomach does a little somersault at the thought of him fussing over me in this way, "I'm alright. Thank you, though." 

His head cocks to the side a little as he observes me, "Are you nervous?" 

"What?" His question catches me off guard until I realize he's referring to my folded arms, "Oh, no, I'm not. I just do this when I don't know what else to do with my hands."

He nods, turns, then takes out two bottles from the refrigerator, twists the cap off one of them and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I say, gingerly taking a sip. It's beer.

"So, what do you think?" He asks me as he twists the cap off his own bottle and leans against the counter-top.

What do I think? I take a quick scan of the room. Immediately, I notice that, while his place isn't massive, it's at least four times the size of the little box I was assigned to sleep in. Everything is black; the floor is black. The ceiling is black. The walls are black. The furniture and bedding are black. Like most of the rooms I've been in aboard the Manifest Destiny, it's bathed in soft, neon ambience (in this case, blue). I can smell the distinct aromas of coconut and eucalyptus permeating the air. The far wall is one huge window so he has a panoramic view of the passing galaxy which helps give the illusion of space (no pun intended).

And, yes, it's as breathtaking as it sounds. 

"It's okay," I shrug. Then, I switch to ballerina mode as I twirl across the room towards the window, taking care not to spill a single drop of my drink, "the view could be a little better, though." I grin at him, throwing my arms out for extra emphasis.

Gabriel almost chokes on his drink as he tries to hold back his laughter.

"I know it isn't much," He says, regaining his composure and picking up the carton of, what appeared to be, ice cream from the counter-top, "but it's home to me."

Isn't much? I glance over my shoulder and sigh, "If my home had a view like this, I'd never want to leave."

I turn my focus back to Gabriel who is observing me just as keenly in between bites.

"So is this what angels get up to when they're not engaged in galactic warfare? Drink beer and eat ice cream?" I quip, taking another sip of my drink.

"You want to try some?" He asks. 

He doesn't wait for me to answer. I'm trying so hard to keep my composure but feel as though I'm failing miserably as he comes towards the window and offers me a generous scoop from his spoon. I can taste oranges and mangoes, slushy and sorbet-like.

His dark eyes settle intensely on me, "So, did you talk to Nico?"

And just like that, the spell is (temporarily) broken. I hastily swallow.

"Yeah."

"How'd he take it?"

I avert my eyes before answering, "Well, he tried to play it off but I could tell he was disappointed. I hope he isn't too mad at me." Nico and I may not have been in a relationship when I slept with him but he's a good guy and didn't deserve to be led on like that.

Gabriel sees my unease and reaches up with his free hand, threading his fingers purposefully through my hair, tilting my head up and stroking his thumb gently across my cheek. 

My gaze finds it's way back to his and he's got that look on his face where he wants to kiss me but is trying to stop himself from doing so. To my surprise, he does kiss me, but his lips land on my forehead, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he whispers into my hair. 

I pull myself in closer. I'm close enough to smell the scent of coconut on his skin, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, either," I whisper back, my lips against his shoulder. I feel him sigh. He pulls back a little, rests his forehead against mine.

"Did anyone ask where you were going?" 

"Not really," I tell him, "I ran into Morgana on my way down and I think she knew." 

"Oh? What makes you think that?" 

"Because," I say, smiling, "Couple of weeks ago, I went to her for advice. We got onto the subject of half-celestials and sex and she agreed to fit an IUD inhibitor chip inside me."

That gets his attention. His beautiful brown eyes widen in surprise before he laughs in impressed amusement.  

I laugh, too. In hindsight, this particular action may have been a little preemptive and presumptuous on my part, but Gabriel wouldn't be celibate forever... right? 

I hoped not. The wanting was already unbearable and we'd only openly admitted how we felt about each other a matter of hours ago. 

"I don't think she'll say anything, though," I add, "I think we're safe."

He nods in agreement. 

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks. 

He starts to lead me away from the window but lets go of my hand, so that he can discard the now empty carton.

I'm standing in the middle of the room realizing that my choice of where to sit is as follows: a single black leather chair or, the bed. Like I said, his place isn't massive and there isn't room for a couch or any sort of communal sitting area. It's almost as if it wasn't built for socializing or entertaining guests in any way. It certainly wasn't built with the idea of couples in mind. The implication of that makes me feel a bit sad. 

Apparently abstaining from sex didn't include not reading about it because as I set my drink down on the nightstand, I spy a book on spiritual sex practices with numerous neon post-it notes sticking out of the top illuminated by a spherical blue bedside lamp and I'm not sure if that unnerves or excites me. Has he been reading that with me in mind? I wonder. 

I make my way to the end of bed where I perch demurely and try not to look self-conscious. 

Self-consciousness is not an issue for Gabriel who falls back and sprawls out like a jungle cat beside me. I laugh as he lunges forward, grabbing me by the waist and starts to pull me up towards the head of the bed. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, presumably referring to our prolonged make-out session from the previous night because his lips and tongue quickly find their way to mine. I gently place my hand on the side of his face, returning the kiss as passionately as I know how. I can feel his fingertips on the bare skin of my thigh and slowly making their way up to my waist, over my hip, my ribs, before settling on my breast. His hand then wanders downward, tugging at my t-shirt, sliding under it and lightly caressing the small of my back. We lay together kissing and holding each other like that for a few minutes before Gabriel pulls me closer to him, gently guiding my leg over his hip and pressing his groin against me. I gasp into his mouth, deepening the kiss when I feel his arousal, hard against my thigh. Well, I guess that answers any questions I had about how he currently feels about his celibacy. I'm not sure what excites me more; that I turn him on, or that he wants me to be aware. Oh, it would have been so easy to give in then. God knows I wanted to. I want him more than the pony I begged my parents for six straight years for as a kid (which is a lot), but Gabriel had not said that he loved me and he'd explicitly stated he wanted to be in love with the next woman he slept with, and I couldn't afford any more regrets, especially not with him. It takes every last bit of self-control I have to pull away. 

"Gabriel, there's something on my mind that I've been meaning to ask you," I say, breaking the kiss.

He gives me this look, somewhere between confusion and amusement, almost as if he's wondering if I made Nico work this hard. I did, of course, but for completely different reasons. Besides, Nico is not nearly as reserved or mysterious as Gabriel; he readily offers up information about himself without me having to dig. Not that it justifies anything but, that's what largely contributed to him being the perfect target for me to take my frustration and jealousy out on when I thought that Gabriel and Sophia were together. 

I lightly trace along his collarbone and chest with my fingertips. His gaze follows my touch, before looking back at me.

"What do you want to know?" He reaches up to brush the stray hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. 

I avert my gaze. "Just something I overheard Morgana say to Solaris, not too long after I first came here," I tell him, "Solaris said he was concerned that letting me stay here was a mistake because if either you, or Nico, fell in love with me, you might be tempted to leave the federation and abandon Guiding Light if I felt the same way." 

Gabriel lets out a small laugh, "Leave Solaris to me. I know he seems scary sometimes, but I can handle him," he gently strokes my cheek, attempting to reassure me, "You don't have to worry." It doesn't escape my notice that he sidestepped the mention of 'love'. 

"Thank you, but-" I hesitate. 

His eyes narrow and his brows knit together in curiosity. 

I sigh, "Morgana... she said that she wouldn't be surprised if you had feelings for me because we're soul-tied after what happened to you when you were a baby," I look him in the eye this time, "Gabriel, what was she talking about? What happened to you when you were a baby? And what does it have to do with your feelings for me?"

For a moment he freezes, as if searching for the right words to say. When the words don't come he sits up abruptly.

"Fuck," I hear him mutter under his breath as he sits at the foot of the bed, elbows on knees.

Part of me had hoped that Morgana was mistaken, but it's more than obvious by his reaction that he knows exactly what she was referring to.

I shuffle down the bed until I'm beside him. I place one hand on his thigh, while the other slides around his waist, "I'm sorry," I say, "I didn't mean to upset you. You don't have to tell me if you don't want-"

"-You didn't. And yes, I do," he interjects, "I mean, you deserve to know." He adds, quietly. 

I kiss his shoulder and he drops his head into his hands for a moment before he looks back up and at me, "Just remember I was a baby when all of this happened so everything I'm about to tell you isn't from memory, but how it was retold to me."

I nod.

He gets up, makes his way over to the kitchen where he plucks a photograph from the refrigerator door.

He hovers over me as he hands me a picture of a beautiful woman with long, golden, honey colored hair standing next to a dark haired, bearded man with tanned skin and oddly familiar dark brown eyes. I've never seen either of them before in my life, yet I have a pretty good idea of who I'm looking at. 

"Are these your parents, Gabriel?" I ask.

"The only picture of them I have," he states, matter-of-factly. 

I glance at the picture again and note that it's clear that Gabriel has inherited the most prominent, contrasting features from both his parents, which explains his own striking appearance. I also note that his mother is cradling her stomach, visibly pregnant.

"They're gorgeous. It's not hard to see where you get it from," I tell him with a small laugh, my feeble attempt to lighten the mood a little.

He takes the picture from me and looks down at it, wistfully.

"What happened to them?" I know that they were both killed by the Draco, but that's all I know. 

I watch him intensely from the foot of the bed as he makes his way back to the refrigerator, puts the photograph carefully back in it's place, before he picks the half empty beer bottle up from the counter-top, taking a generous swig before drifting over to the window.

"I was about three months old when it happened," he places a palm against the glass, leaning against it before he lets out a deep sigh, "See, the Draco had always feared my parent's power so they had mostly avoided Lyrica, at least up until that point anyway."

I can feel my heartbeat begin to pick up pace as he turns to face me before he continues. He puts his free hand in his sweatpants pocket and leans back against the glass, "But news of my birth and baptism had traveled and the Draco were feeling emboldened, I guess?" he adds with a resigned shrug.

As soon as he says 'baptism', I'm reminded of one of the first conversations he and I ever had and hot, stinging tears start to form in the corners of my eyes as my mind starts to connect the dots. Even though I'm almost certain at this point I know where this is going, I say nothing and continue to give him my undivided attention.

"A few days before it happened, the Manifest Destiny landed in Lyrica, after having rescued citizens from various planets throughout the galaxy, seeking refuge from the Draco who'd ramped up their attacks in the months prior. Most of the refugees and crew were guests at the party- including Solaris and Morgana," his mouth twists into a boyish smile before he says the next part, "After the ceremony, I was getting cranky so my mother wanted to put me down for a nap," he takes another long drink, swallows hard.

My stomach is in knots as he describes how, while his mother made her way back to the party, the Draco descended upon the city, storming the palace where the ceremony had taken place, slaughtering almost everyone in attendance- including the other refugees who'd survived at least one attack by them already. Solaris and Morgana were among the few who managed to escape. When she realized what was happening, his mother had tried to make her way back to the nursery in a desperate attempt to protect her son, but it was just... too late.

He drains the bottle of it's contents before drifting back over to the kitchen where he sets it down. His back is turned to me as he leans against the counter-top with both hands, "One of the refugees- a young girl -saw what had happened and somehow found her way to me before the Draco. She wrapped me up in a blanket, used it to strap me to her body and escaped out of a window, all before the Draco could reach us. Nobody knows how she did it but she made it safely to the outskirts of the city where she hid for hours until we were both rescued."

My tearful gaze bores into him, imploring him to reveal the one crucial detail omitted from his story.

I swallow hard, fighting to keep the tears from falling. I know the answer. He knows I know the answer, but I ask anyway.

"The girl who rescued you? Who was she?"

I hear him sigh. 

He turns to face me as he leans back, crossing his arms across his body, mimicking my body language from earlier. It takes a moment before he looks me in the eye.

"It was your mom, Mist." 

I let out an audible sob. I drop my face into my hands, my palms drenched with the tears I'd tried in vain to keep from falling.

My mother carried me for nine months, she was my entire world for the first ten years of my life - and she'd never seemed more like a complete stranger to me than she did right now. This, more than anything, was probably the most devastating realization I'd had since she died.  

The bed sinks beside me as Gabriel sits down, he pulls me into his arms and I crumple into him in a fit of ragged sobs, "I just don't understand why," I choke, "why you didn't tell me..." 

He cradles the top of my head, presses a kiss into my temple, "I wanted to tell you," he says, "I was going to tell you, yesterday, but you were upset about Nico, then I took you out, you cheered up and seemed so happy," he pauses and runs his thumb slowly across my cheeks swiping at my tears, "I guess I just didn't want to upset you anymore. I shouldn't have kept something like that from you. I'm sorry." 

I lift my head a little, gaze up at him.

He isn't just talking about my mother. What he isn't saying, at least not explicitly, is that he's referring to himself. Admitting that he was the infant prince that my mother had rescued from the Draco would've meant revealing his true identity as intergalactic royalty to me. And for reasons I don't yet fully understand, it terrified him. I can feel the tension in him waiting for me to call him out for not being honest about who he really was. His embrace around me tightens, as if he's scared I'm just going to get up and leave. 

Instead, I rest my head back on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, too."

"Sorry? For what?" 

"For being a crybaby," I shrug, "And a mood killer. I know this wasn't what you had in mind when you invited me here tonight."

He chuckles, "I'm just glad you're here." 

For the next few moments neither of us say anything, we just sit there in silence, holding each other at the foot of the bed, two lost souls who've found each other in spite of the distance separating us. Gabriel's hand slowly starts to drift downwards from around my waist to my bare thigh again. I can hear his heartbeat thudding against my cheek. I close my eyes and breathe in, taking in the smell of lingering coconut emanating from his skin, mixed with his own natural scent, intoxicating me in a way that no drug or drink ever could. 

"It must get pretty lonely out here?" I finally whisper, reaching up and running my fingers through thick strands of gold. 

Outer space, for all it's awe-inspiring wonder and beauty was also immense and unforgiving. I'd felt overwhelmed by it many times in the short time I'd been here. I couldn't imagine what it must be like for him, living up here for such long stretches of time.

He averts his gaze from mine as I stroke his cheek with my fingertips.

"Sometimes." He whispers back.

I reach round the back of his neck and pull him in closer to me so that our lips are almost touching, "Gabriel," his name flows breathlessly out of my mouth, "Before, when you were kissing me, if I hadn't have interrupted us... would you have stopped?"

"No." He says without hesitation.

I draw back ever so slightly, just enough to look him directly in the eyes. "You said you wanted to be in love with the next woman you were with?"

His mouth slowly curves into a knowing smile. "Right."

Before I can say anything else, he leans in and rains a series of chaste, yet lingering kisses on my lips.

"I love you, Misty Dawn."

We kiss again, our tongues touching, gentle at first before escalating into a battle for dominance in one another's mouths. I let out a small whimper as his fingers weave through my hair, holding my head to him with one hand and stroking my thigh with the other. He reaches behind my knee, drawing me in close enough so that I can feel his blatant arousal pressing against the inside of my leg. Instinctively, I start to move my hips in response and then it's his turn to gasp. 

Old me- prude me -would've balked at my actions over the last three days. I try to reason with myself that these are not ordinary circumstances and neither Gabriel, or Nico, are ordinary guys. Nico is a friend, a good friend I deeply regret hurting, and Gabriel...

He starts to push me backwards (or maybe I'm pulling him?) As we hit the bed, everything feels hazy, like it's moving at both warp speed and in slow motion, simultaneously. My sneakers hit the floor with a dull thud. My t-shirt crackles with static electricity as I sit up and lift it over my head. Gabriel unfastens my shorts and I lift my hips as he slides them down over my knees and feet before tossing them aside. My hair feels like feathers on my skin as I reach up to unclasp my bra. He stops me before reaching behind me to do it himself, purposefully caressing my breasts with the palms of his hands as the fabric falls away. 

Gabriel's jungle cat reflexes kick in again as he stands at the foot of the bed to remove his sweatpants, his eyes never straying from me as he throws them into the pile of mounting clothing on the floor. If he's nervous or scared, he doesn't show it as I see him, completely bare, in his fully aroused state for the first time. He catches me looking and smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction to him.

Rejoining me on the bed, he tugs at the hemline of my panties until they too, are discarded. His hand dips between my legs, parting them further than they are already. I gasp sharply as his digits enter me, find their intended target and encouraged by my reaction he applies pressure, stroking skillfully. There's this look of mischief and unapologetic lust in his eyes as he studies my expressions. 

He kisses me, once again holding my head to him with his free hand as I come hard against his hand between my legs, stifling the cry from deep in my throat with his mouth and tongue. We wrap our arms around each other as we both go tumbling backwards onto the bed. 

With a swift motion of his hips he's inside me and my heart feels like it's about to beat itself right out of my chest as he starts to thrust, slowly at first but gaining momentum with each passing moment. 

He cradles my head as his lips leave my mouth to trail kisses along my chin, my cheek, my neck, collarbone and shoulder. My hands roam over his back and shoulder blades, over his angel wings tattoo, where his real wings would appear whenever he willed them to, reveling in the feel of him inside, the sensation of his hips grinding against the inside of my sweat-slicked thighs and the warmth of his ragged breath on my skin. 

Gabriel reaches behind my knee again, elevating my leg and pushing himself even deeper into me. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. His hand glides up from my thigh, over my hip, stomach and ribs before unabashedly caressing and stroking my breasts with a fervent touch.

I want to hold onto this feeling forever but I can feel the pressure building in my groin, begging for release. Gabriel feels it too because his hand abruptly leaves my breasts and reaches for my hand from around his waist, curling his fingers through mine and holding it against the bed in a vice-like grip as if he's bracing himself for impact. 

He kisses me again, hard. A deep, guttural groan escapes his throat, jerking forward several times as he releases over two years of self-imposed suppressed desire and sexuality, the sensation of his body colliding with mine pushes me over the precipice and the resulting wave of pleasure feels like a tsunami sweeping up from my groin into my chest and down to the tips of my toes.

Nothing else exists. Nothing but me, him, this bed, against an endless backdrop of stars all bathed in hazy, neon blue. 

Gabriel slowly lets go of my hand as he rests his full weight on me, his face nuzzling into the crook of my neck.

"You feel incredible," he rasps.

"So do you," I tell him, reaching up and running my trembling fingers through his hair. 

We lay together like that for a few moments, catching our breath. I can feel my surroundings spinning back into focus, his heart beating in perfect timing with mine. 

He stirs, lifting his head and flashing me a deliriously happy, yet oddly shy, smile before he rains another series of soft kisses in quick succession on my lips, book-ending our first sexual encounter with one another as he finally pulls out of me. 

He falls next to me on the bed with a heavy sigh. 

He puts his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling, entangled in the bed sheets from the waist down, looking dazed and contemplative, like he's thinking and feeling a million things at once. 

I turn on my side to face him, resting my head on my hand. 

Maybe it was because I was high on adrenaline or post-sex endorphins, but I didn't think it was possible for him to be more even more beautiful to me yet somehow, he was. I reach out and stroke his glistening chest with my palm, "Are you okay?" I ask. 

It takes a moment before he answers.

"I've never done that with someone I've been in love with before," is all he offers. 

"Me neither," I tease, leaning over to sprinkle kisses along his chest and stomach. I hear him exhale appreciatively at the gesture. 

I pull back, licking my lips. Between the sweat and coconut he tastes both salty and sweet. I smile to myself. If only Jezebel could see me now. If I could only tell her that not only does the proverbial 'fairy-tale prince' in fact, exist, but I- Misty, the perpetual virgin and prude -had just finished making love with him in his bed. Only this wasn't a fairy-tale; this was more like romantic science fiction where I had to go all the way into outer space to find him. 

And to think he was once just a helpless infant that, without my mother's intervention, probably wouldn't be alive to experience this. Come to think of it, without my mom, neither of us would be here. Before I can stop myself, I start to giggle. I try to hold it in but it's too late. Gabriel glances at me quizzically from the corner of his eye.

"What's so funny?" He asks.

"Oh, nothing," I say, shaking my head, "It's just... I bet my mom never thought that the cute, innocent, little baby boy she rescued would be doing that with her future daughter someday."

Gabriel's eyelids flutter shut and he puts a hand to his forehead as he, too, starts to laugh. There would be many, many moments throughout the course of our relationship, where I'd wonder whether he questions what he let himself in for when he got with me - this was one of those moments. 

He sits up then, mirroring me, turning to face me with his head in his hand, "Not so innocent now, eh?" He says with a grin, reaching over to brush my hair away from my face.

I'm not sure which one of us he's referring to. 

"So," I say, my giddiness overriding my attempt to sound serious, "let's see, you're an intergalactic angel prince who apparently met my mother before I did," I take hold of his hand, interlacing his fingers with mine, "have you got any more surprises for me that I should know about?"

Gabriel stares at my hand for a moment before bringing it up to his lips, "No more surprises, I promise." 

Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief. It's been an emotional couple of months and while most of it has been positive, I'm not sure how much more upheaval I can take. 

We're still holding hands when he looks over at me with a soft, earnest look and asks, "Are you still upset I didn't tell you?"

"No, of course not," I tell him, "I'm just sad that you felt like you couldn't trust me."

He hangs his head, deflated, "Of course I trust you, Mist, it's just-" he pauses for a moment and starts to pull me towards him, lifting his arm and wrapping it around me. I eagerly accept his embrace, nestling into the crook of his neck and resting my cheek on his chest.

"It was always my intention to tell you, because of the connection with your mom, but honestly, if it weren't for that," he explains, gently stroking my back and hair, "I probably would never have brought it up at all."

I look up inquisitively, "How come?"

Another pause, followed by a sigh. He softly caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, "You know when I first realized I was falling for you? All I wanted was for you to see me, as I am now, today, not an idea of who I am or who I could've been if my parents had lived. It's an insecurity I have about myself, not about you." 

Beyond alluding to the shallowness and superficiality of the company he kept in the past, he was pretty vague about his reasons behind his decision to stay celibate when we spoke of it last night, but, as I listen to him speak, I detect a hint of hurt and defiance in his voice and secretly wonder if negative or superficial reactions to his birthright from women (or a particular woman?) had anything to do with it. I secretly wonder if the woman could've been Sophia. 

"I guess keeping parts of yourself hidden in order for someone to see a more honest version of you doesn't make much sense, does it?" He says, running a hand through his hair.

"I get it," I reassure him, my voice soft, "And just so you know, I do see you honestly. That's why I'm here."

I know I joked about Gabriel being the perfect 'fairy-tale prince' but my feelings for him were established way before tonight's revelations, when I thought he was 'just' a navigator onboard the Manifest Destiny.  

He holds me just a little bit tighter, "Thank you for being here." I feel the warmth of his lips in my hair as he kisses the top of my head. 

Apparently not even angels are immune to parental guilt as he then goes on to tell me about the tremendous amount of guilt he feels because he has no desire to return to his birthplace of Lyrica or continue his parent's political legacy. He feels like the work he does with the Galactic Federation to protect the galaxy from the Draco is a much better use of his time and skills, but can't shake the feeling that he's letting them down somehow.

I nod along empathically and try to comfort him, sharing what I would want to hear if I were in his place, "In my experience, I think your parents would just be happy if you're happy."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, I mean, my dad says that every parent's greatest wish is their child's happiness. And he would know."

Gabriel casts his eyes downward, considering my words with a contemplative smile. He takes my hand again, slowly bringing it up to, and brushing it against his lips, "If that's true, mine would be ecstatic right now."

He looks at me then so tenderly, with such contentment in his eyes that I could cry. 

"...Gabriel?"

"Yeah?"

"You got a middle name?"

"Sure. Zion."

I smile. I lean in and press my mouth firmly against his, breathy and ardent.

As our lips part, I whisper, "I love you too, Gabriel Zion."  

~*~

The only thing better than falling asleep in Gabriel's arms, I think to myself, lazily nuzzling into him as I drift back into consciousness, is waking up in his arms.

As a lifelong troubled sleeper, and hopeless romantic, I'd always had this secret fear that I was destined to fall for a snorer and that I would be forced to break up with the love of my life due to not being able to sleep in their arms like this. 

Thankfully, Gabriel not only looks like an angel but sleeps like one, too. 

I dreamily glance up at him. I truly think I could've laid there for hours just watching him, reveling in the warm smoothness of his skin against mine and the weight of his arm draped over me, if it weren't for the urgent signaling from my bladder causing me to groan and forcing me to wriggle stealthily out from under his embrace. Even then, I can't resist gazing down upon him one final time, observing him from different angles and lightly brushing his hair away from his eyes with my fingertips, before I pull the covers back and get up.

I tiptoe around the bed, bunny-hopping my way back into my clothes one item at a time before making a dash for the bathroom. 

With mother nature's call answered and Gabriel still asleep, I'm faced with the task of occupying myself until he wakes up.

I wonder, mischievously, whether I should curl up in his leather chair with a coffee and flick through a couple of chapters from the spiritual sex book on the nightstand. The sudden reminder of what we did last night is enough to make my bare toes curl into the cool, shiny floor but, inevitably, I chicken out and decide to just make coffee instead.

The kitchen area, while not as small as mine, is still very small so it doesn't take long to locate the coffee and two mugs. As I wait for the water to heat, I reflect on how at home I feel; how the lack of weather, natural light, bird song and street noise doesn't feel quite so strange as it once used to.

This feeling is paradoxically accompanied by a vague feeling, not of 'regret' exactly (I could never regret what we did), but cold, hard reality hanging over me like a bucket of ice water on the verge of spilling, ready to remind me that this is not my home. My home was a million miles away. And I was thinking of it less and less.

I peer over my shoulder at Gabriel's still-sleeping form. My mouth twists into a smile when I notice that he's shifted positions slightly since my visit to the bathroom. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for him, holding me in his arms in the same position all night. The way I felt about him was indescribable. He and I don't even feel like a newly cemented couple. Maybe Morgana was right. Maybe we really were soul-tied on some level. 

I can feel the bucket of cold water threatening to spill over onto me again as I think about my father. My friends. My dancing career that I'd worked hard my whole life for. I couldn't just give that all up, could I? Was I crazy for even considering it? 

I sigh, pour the water into my mug, pick it up and softly pad over the window to take in the gorgeous view. I bring my drink up to my lips, gently blowing on the hot liquid before taking a sip. 

The only reason I was still here at all is because it's too dangerous for me to return home with the Draco in pursuit. And if what Solaris said was true and I, an organically conceived human-celestial hybrid, was the Galactic Federation's best hope of infiltrating Purgatory and helping them dismantle the Draco's power over the galaxy, there just didn't seem to be any way for me to return home without being in mortal danger in some way. 

Even if I could go home, would I ever see Gabriel again? Would I end up like Sophia; patiently waiting around for the man I loved to come into town, living for the few hours we'd spend together before he leaves, always hoping for the day he'd come to his senses, only for him to fall for another woman? 

Again, not that I regret doing so, but maybe having sex with him at the first opportunity wasn't the good idea it felt like at the time. The stakes and the potential for gut-wrenching, soul-destroying heartbreak just seemed so much higher than it did a few hours ago.  

I give my head a shake and try to push my thoughts to the back of my mind, for now. 

As I take another sip of coffee, the reflection in the window of Gabriel's refrigerator door anchors my attention. Last night, I hadn't noticed the pictures on there, other than the one he showed me of his parents, as there was so much else going on. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach spring to life at being given the opportunity to get an even deeper glimpse into his world and at the people and moments he deemed significant enough to keep a visual reminder of them around.

The butterflies quickly turn into knots of sadness, however, when I take a closer look at his parents. I note the happiness and pride in their expressions, completely oblivious to the fact that they would only have just a few short months with their son before they would be cruelly snatched away from him. I find myself wishing with all my heart there was some way I could let them know what an incredible, kind, patient, smart and loving man Gabriel had become.

Next to the picture of his parents is a multi-sunned sunset over a beautiful silvery white sandy beach. It almost looks like a postcard. Curious, I turn it over to see if there's anything written on the back -a name, a location, a clue as to why this place might be special to him- but there's nothing. Part of me thinks he has a picture like this, of a crazy, bright neon pink, purple and orange sky on display due to being up here in the dark for so long. As breathtakingly beautiful as the cosmos was, he must long for skies like these at times.

I place the sunset back in it's designated spot and turn my attention to the third image; a recent photograph of Gabriel, Nico and Zoe in their civilian clothes, hanging out and being goofy together in some kind of restaurant, judging by the drinks and half-eaten food on the table in front of them. Or, to be more specific, Nico and Zoe being goofy, pulling silly faces and posing while Gabriel casually leans on the table, coolly half-smiling into the camera. I softly giggle into my coffee. From my experience, in the relatively short time I've known all three of them, it's an accurate visual representation of their respective personalities.  

My gaze flickers to the fourth, final photograph and I pause, gasp a soundless 'Oh my God' to myself as I pluck it from the refrigerator door. In my hand is a picture of Gabriel, around age five or six, dressed in what I can only assume was one of his first, if not the first, of his Galactic Federation uniforms, standing on the veranda of some futuristic looking (at least, to me) house in the middle of a lush, tropical location. I can just about make out what appears to be a pool or lake in the near background and a silvery white sandy coastline farther back. 

It's reminiscent of those photos parents insist upon taking of their kids on their first day of school. Or the many, many pictures my dad took of me in my various ballet costumes over the years. I try to picture myself at a similar age next to him which makes my gut feel warm and fuzzy in a way that I've never experienced before. At least, I think it was my gut. Oh God. I can feel my toes curling into the floor again. This time in panic instead of excitement. Suddenly I couldn't shake the feeling that I was gazing into my possible future with Gabriel where he and I stayed together and we-

-"Whatcha lookin' at?" Gabriel says softly over my shoulder, his arms encircling my waist from behind.

Oh, just envisioning what our future babies would look like. No big deal. 

I'd been so engrossed that I hadn't even notice him awaken. 

I hold the photo up to him, suppressing a smile. "Your first day of 'Starfleet Academy'?"

"Ugh," he pretends to cringe, "I thought I took that one down." 

I giggle. "Sorry if I woke you. I didn't mean to."

"It's alright. Don't apologize."

"I told you I'm not a very good sleeper." I shrug.

"Nobody's perfect." He says, kissing my cheek. He slowly runs his hands over my abdomen which does nothing to assuage the maternal twinge I just felt.

"I could get used to this, you know, " he whispers against my neck.

That makes two of us. 

"Where is this?" I ask, holding up the photo again.

"That," he reaches over with one arm while still holding onto me with the other, picks up the coffee I made him, "is Nibera," he takes a big gulp, "I grew up there until I was eighteen. That's when I came up here."

I turn my attention back to the picture and smile to myself as I wonder if being raised somewhere like that is the reason he always smells like an island breeze.

"It looks beautiful," I tell him.

"It is. They have some of the most stunning sunsets in the entire galaxy there. Thunderstorms, too."

"I'd love to go there someday."

"You will. We'll go together. I just know you'll love it." He sounds so calm, so sure, so... happy. 

Until now, I've been able to hold myself together but just then, the dam bursts and my emotions get the better of me. Overwhelmed, I abruptly turn around, burying my head against his chest. I can hear the splash of spilled coffee hit the floor. 

"Hey, are you alright?" Gabriel asks, taken aback. 

No, no, no! I'm not! I love you so much and now I feel like there's no possibility that life will never go back to the way it was, yet I don't know how any of this is going to work. There's so much to think about, so much to figure out... and I don't want to deal with any of it! 

"Yeah," I lie, "I'm fine."