A Velvet glove – Ghost

Fuck.

Just.

Fuck.

"Come on, Kes. Clear the hallways for me. We don't want a panic." Mal held the sub's head, the
white-white hair wet with sweat, eyes rolled back into the kid's head. The kid was breathing, but
that was it.

The Top who'd been working with the kid was pacing, eyes wringing. "Mal? What happened? What's
wrong with him? Check the security tapes, I didn't hurt him. I swear."

"Relax. You didn't raise any alarms, Garret. It wasn't you. We'll get him to the Doc." Fuck.

Fuck.

"All clear, Mal. Herc's on his way to speak to the Top, smooth things there. Where do you need me?
There or at the Doc's?"

"Come here." He stood, the kid weighing nothing in his arms. He headed out, hurrying to the freight
lift, speaking into his earpiece. "Doc, I'll be there in three. You'd better be ready for me."

"The place is cleared out, Mal and I've pulled his file. There isn't anything unusual here." Doc was
new, just with them three months, and hadn't done the initial intake meeting with the boy, Ghost.

"Well, there's something unusual here. He's non-responsive, still. He's breathing, but that's it."

The lift door opened. "Somebody open the door."

Doc himself opened the door for him, ushering him over to a bed. Immediately, Doc was examining
Ghost, checking his eyes, his pulse. "What happened in the scene, Mal? What went wrong?"

Mal clicked the control room number. "Pipe the last hour's worth of vid to Meds. Now."

He looked over at the Doc. "I'm not sure. It was pretty standard -- the sub was bound, gagged,

safeword button in reach. The top was using a paddle -- no blood was drawn, his ass was pretty

red, but no serious bruises. No blows to the head. No breath play. No blood play." Damn it all to

the seventh layer of hell.

"Have you had problems with this boy before?" Doc's long fingers stroked the sub's face.

"No. Not ever. I did a few sessions with him -- he's extremely quiet, never safe worded." He pulled
up Ghost's file. "He's got a reputation for being distant, being unemotional. He's extremely obedient.
Handles pain well."

Doc listened to Ghost's lungs and heart, examined his mouth. "There's barely even any marks from
where he was gagged and look at his wrists -- again, just barest marks. Nothing was too tight. Help
me turn him over."

"Of course." They flipped the boy easily, his ass red, but not unreasonably so. The pale hair slid to
one side, a dark birthmark on the boy's nape marring the white skin.

Doc looked closely at the paddled ass. Shaking his head. "The skin's not even broken."

The birthmark was examined along with the spine. Doc even looked at the sub's feet and hands,
checking the nails carefully.

"Well I can't find anything. I'll pull blood and run tests. Run an ECG. The next step is to get a machine
that'll track his brainwaves. That's going to take a day at least to get here and it's going to be
expensive. You want me to order it now? Or wait?"

"Get it in here. We take care of our boys, Doc. If he's sick? You make him better. I'm taking him off
the active roster. He's yours now, until further notice." He didn't need subs turning into vegetables
on the tables. Shit. Herc was going to have his ass in a sling.

Doc nodded. "I'll order anything I think I need then, send the paperwork to you." A gentle hand
patted Mal's arm. "He'll get the best care possible and if he can be brought out of this, he will be, I
promise you that."

Mal nodded. "Keep me informed. If you need anything, I'll arrange it. I'm going to go do some
damage control upstairs. Good luck."

He didn't even wait for Doc to answer, just headed out. Maybe he'd get a job tending bar
somewhere.

Somewhere quiet.

Somewhere quiet and smoky and leatherless.

Well, maybe not leatherless...

***

Trip took blood from the still form and sent it to the lab by courier. He phoned it in first, letting them
know they were willing to pay extra for speed. He went over Ghost again, examining him closely.

For all intents and purposes, the boy was asleep. The ECG came back normal. His heartbeat was
normal, his lungs were clear. A close examination of the boy's skin revealed no needle marks, no
punctures or wounds. The blood work would reveal if drugs were involved, but if they were, they
hadn't been administered through a vein.

Ghost was a pretty lad. Small and pale, with almost shockingly white hair. From what Mal said he
was a good sub, if unemotional.

It was a puzzle.

Trip loved puzzles.

He supposed that made him seem ghoulish, even for a doctor.

He called the med suppliers, arranging for a brainwave scanner. In the end he purchased it, which
guaranteed him delivery within a few hours and it wasn't really that much more than the rental
would have been. Then he sat down to go through the tape of the session, to see if they yielded him
any clues.

The session started normally enough, Ghost stripping silently and standing by the wall, the top
fastening cuffs to wrists and ankles. There was little if any discussion, just a straight-forward
paddling, Ghost's face relaxed, peaceful.

Then it got a little weird.

The top started talking, started going on about another man who had either passed away or left him,
it really wasn't clear. As the top grew more agitated, the speed of the blows increased -- still
completely within reason, but increasing. Ghost's face though, mirrored the agitation on the top's,
his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks flushed.

Trip was pretty sure it wasn't from the beating either, but from the pain the top was communicating.
Ghost obviously felt bad for the man, was picking up on the upset. He could see the session
becoming more and more intense until finally Ghost's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed
out. Only one more blow fell, the top realizing almost immediately that there was something wrong
with the boy.

Interesting.

He went back to the boy, making sure he was warm enough and that there was no change.

The boy's eyes were open, pale green and unfocused, staring up at the ceiling.

"Ghost?" he called softly to the boy, taking one limp hand.

The eyes didn't move, but the boy took a deep, quick breath, slowly releasing it.

"You're in the med office. I'm Doctor Marker. Can you hear me?"

Another breath, but nothing else. He wasn't sure if it was a sign or a coincidence.

"You... passed out during a scene. Do you remember the scene? You were bound, gagged,

Garrett was paddling your ass. And a pretty ass it is, too," he added with a soft smile.

That got him a slow, slow blink. Okay. His patient was trying to respond. Excellent.

"One blink for yes, two for no, all right, Ghost?"

Those white lashes closed again.

"Wonderful."

He stroked the boy's hand. "You're in the med office. Do you understand?"

He got a long pause. Then another blink. Another deep breath.

"Did the top give you anything before the scene started?"

Two blinks. Okay, that was a no.

"I was watching the scene on the security tapes. At one point the top started talking to you. Was he
talking about someone that you knew?"

Two blinks, these slower, more hesitant.

He pulled his chair over, sitting close, one hand on the boy's chest, the other holding Ghost's hand.
"It was what he was saying that upset you though, was it not?"

Two more blinks and a deep shaky breath. Surprising.

He frowned, running the tape over in his memory. There had to be a link, it was only when the top
started talking that Ghost looked anything but peaceful and content.

"Do you know why you passed out?"

He got one blink and this time, those eyes stayed closed.

"Okay, Ghost. You can rest now, I won't push you. Are you hungry?"

He got no response, Ghost as quiet and still as the dead.

Sighing, he checked the boy's pulse and went to write up a report to Mal.

***

Man, this morning came close on the night before. Hercules had been amazing -- leaving him with
his back on fire, cock bound tight, ass plugged and a promise of that hand buried. Oh. Oh, man.
Focus.

Work.

Work.

Mal worked through his paperwork, drinking his caff and making sure things were in order.

His commlink beeped, Doc's voice sounding. "Mal? When you've got a moment, I'd like to

update you on Ghost. I have a few questions as well."

"Excellent. Do you need me there or can you meet me in my office?"

"I'd rather not leave the boy."

"I'll be there shortly." Because of course, what he wanted to do was walk across the fucking club

and then take the lift and all the while feeling Hercules' touch on him.

The thought made him warm, built a little fire in the pit of his belly. Well, he wanted to feel

Hercules' touch. It was the non-Hercules, walking/lift/waiting thing that sucked wet, hairy rocks.

Big ones.

Huge.

Moldy.

The thoughts amused him all the way to the Medical unit.

Doc Marker met him at the door. "Come on in. I have some interesting stuff to share with you."

"Really? I'm listening." He followed the quiet, tall man, intrigued.

"Ghost woke up for a few minutes last night. We were able to communicate -- I asked questions

and he blinked in reply." Doc led him over to the desk, indicating a chair in front of it.

He sat, refusing to sit gingerly or carefully or any of the other ly-ways another man would sit. He sat.
(And if every nerve in his body squeaked like new cheese, well too bad.)

Doc sat in a chair across from him and turned a monitor toward him. "This is the data from the
brainwave activity on Ghost. It's... unusual."

He looked at the seemingly-random patterns, and then shrugged. "They don't mean a thing to me,
Doc. Explain."

"There's nothing 'wrong' per se, but compared to the 'normal' patterns? There's about twice as
much brain activity in Ghost than say you or I. I think that extra activity accounts for his... well, for
lack of a better word coma."

"So, what caused the extra activity and how do you get rid of it?" Please say Ghost isn't a
sychopathic axe murderer.

"I'm not sure, but Ghost knows. He told me last night that he knows why he passed out and then
he... well, he passed out again."

One of his eyebrows went up, a touch of anger lighting. "He knew, yet there was nothing in his
medical profile to show it?" Oh, he was going to kick the kid's ass for lying. Maybe kick him out.

"No, there's nothing here. That's one reason why I wanted to have you down here. The only things I
can find in my database are unconfirmed and speculation. They're all pretty strange. ESP and
telekinesis. Empaths. Psychics. That kind of thing. Do you have any reason to believe Ghost is any of
these?"

"Hold on, let me check his records." He tapped into the files, searching. "Brought in almost two years
ago. Hawk sponsored him. That's it."

He pinged Hawk, the man would be on transport to the plant.

"Yeah?"

"Hawk. Mal. You remember Ghost?"

"Sure. Sweet. Quiet. Kinda creepy."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Why'd you sponsor him?"

"Hmm? Oh, the kid's dad worked for the plant. Was when Statar was in office. All the seers were
shipped off-world. Guy wanted his son safe. Kid was willing. There a problem?"

He counted to ten.

Twice.

Slowly.

"Hawk, didn't you think that was important for us to know?"

"Huh? No. Man, everybody knows the seers are myths. That's just racism. And, like I said, at the
time, they were getting screwed with."

"Maybe not entirely myths," murmured the Doc. He leaned over the commlink. "Hawk, Doc Marker
here. You never saw the boy exhibit anything strange?"

"Exhibit? No. I mean, we didn't play much. He was so distant, so cold. I need more response than
that. I... Uh... I think he's the one who refuses the work the main floor? Only private appointment?"

Mal checked, nodded to the Doc.

Doc continued questioning Hawk. "If he has some sort of psychic ability that would make sense. So
you've always found him to be closed off, Hawk? Can you remember any time when he was
emotionally responsive?"

"No. No, I... Wait. There was once, we were going from one place to another and a pair was fighting -
- I mean, going toe to toe, and the poor kid freaked on me, wouldn't listen, backpedaled and
everything."

"Empath." Doc shrugged and nodded. "It could be. It was when the top got emotional that Ghost's
behavior changed. He went from peaceful to crying and agitated and the more intense it got, the
more emotional he got."

Mal sighed, rubbed his forehead. "Okay, thanks, Hawk. I'll talk with you tonight."

He clicked the commlink closed and groaned. "Fuck. If you're right, Doc, we can't keep him here, not
freaking out when things get heavy..."

"Well not as a club sub. That doesn't mean there won't be someone who'll want to take him on..."

He arched an eyebrow. "An emotionally distant sub who freaks out when things get intense. He
sounds like a gem. Honestly, Doc, he needs to be somewhere where the goal isn't intense sessions. I
mean, can you imagine? Feeling all these people coming and wanting and being distant? Creepy."

Doc gave him a look. "That kind of thinking is what had the seers tossed off planet in the first place.
I'm not saying it would be easy or that he's everyone's cup of tea, but he has a talent that could be
used to good effect and he's a beautiful boy. I imagine he's just looking for a little corner of peace."
Doc tapped his datapad. "He might not even understand what's happening to him."

Mal shook his head. "He's your baby right now. When you release him? It'll be up to the big boss. I
don't want to desert the kid, but I can't have him loose in the general subs." Not a chance.

"No, that would be a mistake, I think. Not to worry, Mal. As you said, he's my problem now."

Doc got up and shook his hand. "I assume you'd like me to keep you apprised of the situation?"

"Yes, please. I like to keep tabs." He stood, just hiding his shiver. Right. One problem down, thirty
thousand to go.

Then he could go upstairs.

***

Ghost could feel them, two of them, like butterflies fluttering at the edges of his mind -- one an odd
mixture of ice and fire, the other strong and sure, curious. Feral? No. Yet, yes.

Oh, he didn't want to wake up. He didn't. He'd made a mistake. He knew he had and he didn't know
how to fix it, how to stop. How to make things right.

It was so much easier to sleep.

To float.

To hide.

The ice and fire disappeared, leaving only the strong one. He was quiet, gentle against Ghost’s mind.

"Ghost? You need to wake."

But he didn't want to.

Really.

Really, really.

The quiet man's touch was very gentle on his skin and there was a touch of worry mixed into the
curiosity now. He sighed and tried to open his eyes; worry felt scratchy against him.

"Nobody is going to hurt you, Ghost. I won't let that happen."

The light was bright, but only for a moment, only long enough for the voice to whisk it away. He
blinked, licked his lips, tried to remember what he was doing.

"There you are, Ghost. Can you speak today?"

He blinked over to look at that voice, licking his lips again.

"You can see today, that's good." Something was held to his lips. "Drink."

Oh. Oh.

Oh, he was thirsty. The liquid was cool and sweet, went down easy, eased bits he didn't know were
dry.

"I didn't want to risk even an IV drip until I knew what was wrong with you." A gentle hand slid
along his cheek. "Now that you're conscious we can rehydrate you the old-fashioned way, hmm?"

He nodded, cheek rubbing against the touch. "Th...thank you. More?"

"Yes, but gently, slowly or you'll bring it all back up again."

He took another drink, shaking as it hit his belly. "I... Am I in trouble?" He didn't want to be in
trouble. Really.

"No. Well." The man shrugged, but there was no worry there. "Mal won't let you back into the
general sub pool, but there will not be any punishment."

"I'll have to go?" He closed his eyes, sighing softly, not as scared as he thought he'd be. He liked it
here, liked the people, liked his rooms, liked his bed and his soft clothes.

"That's one option. There are others. I'm going to need some honest answers from you though."

He almost opened his eyes again, but it was easier to nod in the darkness, to feel safe.

"What is the nature of your ability?"

"Ability?" He tilted his head, confused. "I'm a sub."

"The reason why you passed out, Ghost. What happened?"

"It hurt. My head felt as if it would crack open. I did not expect it, I couldn't escape it."

Everything had gone from red to black, waves of sorrow and pain and anger beating against him.

"You can feel people's emotions? Read their thoughts?" His head was stroked.

He shook his head. "I can't read anyone's mind. I can't. I just... I see people sometimes and
sometimes, if I forget to be careful, it... it's too big."

Too big.

Scary.

"See them how, Ghost? I don't mean to be pushy, but if I'm taking you in, I need to know what I'm
getting into."

"How? Taking me in? I don't..." He opened his eyes, looked at the tall man. "You're all curious and
warm, like a cat, sinuous. Feral, but not. Your worry is rough, like a cat's tongue."

He got a warm smile and a chuckle. "A cat, hmm? You can feel my emotions, then?"

"If I say yes, will you make me go?"

"No. I do not plan to make you go unless you aren't honest with me."

He nodded, eyes filling with tears. "I can. I'm sorry. I don't mean to." He tried not to and managed
not to, most of the time. But sometimes, when things got too big, he couldn't help it.

"I know, Ghost, I know." The warm hands smoothed his hair back from his face. "Has anyone ever
helped you? Taught you how to shield yourself?"

"A little. Mother told me to stay away from people. Stay far away from them in my head." He curled
in the sheets, ashamed. "I sometimes can't. I sometimes... forget."

"Yes, I imagine it can be hard. Especially if your defenses are already down and things get heavy,
intense." There was no judgment coming from the tall cat man.

He nodded, eyes watching. "I... It's so big. It was so big. Like drowning. I couldn't make it stop."

"Is it still like drowning or is it easier now?" Care came from the man, sliding with the curiosity,
making it warm.

"Easier. Easier. You are... gentle. Warm."

"Hmm... and that's me and not just you under more control?"

"I..." He shrugged, unsure. "There was someone here earlier. Someone feeling of fire and ice."

"I'll have to do some research. Perhaps I'm like a... shield?" The man shook his head. "I don't know,
Ghost, but I won't throw you out. I have rooms for you here and possibly a job assisting me on
occasion."

He was drifting off, blinking slowly. "I have rooms. With the other subs."

"Mal won't let you stay there anymore, Ghost. Let me give you a home, no strings attached, until
you are feeling up to making decisions for yourself."

"But..." He felt tears slide down his cheeks and he pulled away, wrapped his heart in layer upon layer
of cotton wool, forcing himself into silence. "You are very kind. Very. Thank you."

"Shh, shh, it'll all work out, Ghost. You'll see."

He closed his eyes, letting his breath slow, letting himself slip away.

Yes. Yes, he'd see.

***

Trip stood next to Ghost for a long time after the boy went back to sleep, fingers stroking the white
hair back off the pale face. Ghost was quite lovely and his ability was frankly intriguing.

Trip had a thousand questions. He was going to have to find a balance between satisfying his
curiosity and overwhelming the lad.

He also didn't want Ghost to feel like Trip was giving the young man a place to stay just so that he
could poke and prod and ask his questions. Ghost could stay even if he never answered another
question.

It was another client coming in that finally drew him away from Ghost, one of Tap's boys needing a
few stitches after a cooking mishap involving a butcher's knife and a slab of meat. The boy, Rags, was
brought down by one of the other subs, the two of them fussing and worried and just the cutest
things.

Trip cleaned the cut, stitched it and sent the boys back to Tap with firm instructions not to get the
wound dirty or to pull the stitches out doing anything strenuous. The boys had looked at each other
and giggled madly when he'd said that.

Then he ran another scan of Ghost's brainwaves. The unusual activity had settled some, though it
was still outside the "normal" pattern. On a hunch he ran his own, finding that he too had activity
outside the norm, though not to the same extent as Ghost.

He would have to test someone else to draw a true "normal" rather than relying on the patterns that
came with the instruction manual, but what he was seeing supported the theory he was ruminating
on.

That Ghost was empathic was becoming difficult to deny, and it wouldn't take much testing to
confirm that. What he wondered was if he was not slightly empathic himself, hence the outside the
norm brainwave patterns he was displaying and Ghost's sensing something feral in him.

Never having been taught in any way to use empathic powers, he supposed that any ability he had in
that might be very raw. Or perhaps he was more of a... ground for want of a better word.

A dampener, or filter between Ghost and the rest of the world.

It would explain why he was so drawn to Ghost, why he felt an affinity for him, and also why the

boy seemed calmed by his presence.

He left a message asking Mal to come in for a personal update -- the man would make an excellent
"normal" brainwave graph for him he was sure and he wanted to fly his idea to the man in person
rather than over a commlink. Trip always did better in face to face meetings. Another tick for the
yes, he was partly empathic column.

Then he pulled up the database and started reading everything he could find on the seers, empaths
and other psychic phenomena.

The Seers were a group of people from a tiny planet in the Helian Circle -- quiet, peaceful, apparently
the ancient culture had had strict rules against anger, fury, even passion. The people had been
colonized by a number of others, slowly diluting the bloodline, leaving most without any specific
talents -- sometimes generations would pass without an empath being born.

They were all persecuted though, no matter whether they had any gifts or not and it was not
surprising that to find that a lot of those descended from the Seers hid their heritage. So it was quite
within the realm of possibility that he had some of the bloodline in him.

Fascinating.

The skills were popularly discounted as myth and legends, stories to frighten children, and the Seers
-- officially called the Violari -- were treated much as the Romani on Old Terra. Little pockets of
families forced to travel from place to place, doing random labor.

It was a shame, really; there was so much their abilities could be used for. Like what he hoped to
have Ghost do with him. If Mal let him.

There was a knock on the door, and then Mal appeared, eyes cool and calculating as always.

"You had news for me?"

"I do. And a favor. I'd like to do a brainscan on you; it isn't painful and will only take a few moments
of your time." He knew better than to waste Mal's time beating around the bush.

"Of course. Where? Did Ghost wake up?"

"Right where you are is fine." He put the sensors on Mal's head and turned the machine on. "He did.
He's an empath. He'd been taught the rudiments of how to block, but when the top became
emotional, especially given how intense the session had become, well it overwhelmed him and he
was... overloaded."

"Well, why this scene? Why not any of the others he's done? What was special?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Ghost was tired, maybe the tops don't usually talk to him and it
broke his concentration, maybe the emotions were just that intense."

"So, he's not going back into rotation." Mal sighed. "I have to admit, Doc, I was hoping you were
going to give me better news."

"No, I'm not going to recommend he not go back into rotation. I've got something else in mind for
him."

One eyebrow arched. "Oh? Do tell."

"I think he could help me here in Med office. As an empath." It was a radical idea, he knew, but it
made perfect sense.

"As an..." Mal shook his head, frowned. "I don't follow. How would you use him?"

He sat on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, meeting Mal's eyes. "He's an empath. He could
help me know if people were hurting, were being honest or were lying, needed something more
from me but were afraid to ask. There's any number of scenarios where an empath could aid a
doctor."

"Is that ethical? Is he ethical? I wouldn't want anyone in my head uninvited, Doc."

He shook his head. "That's not how it works. Ghost acts as a... receiver for emotions. He doesn't
invade anyone's mind and he can't pick up thoughts, only emotions. And it's not like I'd hide him or
anything."

"So... I'm upset, angry, he gets angry, too?"

"No, he only feels the emotions; he can control it unless it's extremely intense. And here with me it
would be different -- he wouldn't be alone, it wouldn't be as intense and I'd be here if there was a
problem." He leaned in a little closer. "It makes sense, Mal. It could be very useful to me and this
way we don't kick him onto the street. I'll put him up and I'll be responsible for him."

Mal's eyes went suddenly sharp. "Why, Doctor... Are you saying you'll... claim him?"

He leaned back, folded his arms across his chest. "I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"Is that how you're playing it then?" Mal grinned, the first pleased expression he'd ever seen on the
man. "Fine. Ghost is yours. I'll sign everything over and contact HR."

He glowered. Damn the man anyway. "He'll need a salary."

"You'll have to talk with Hercules." Oh, that sorry bastard.

"And here I thought you were his right hand man."

"I am." The smile widened. "Did you get your tests, Doc?"

"No, actually, I need a few more minutes, to make sure the baseline is just right." He smiled back.

Mal actually laughed, the sound low and rich. "Oh, you are a good one."

"That would be why you hired me, wouldn't it?"

"No. I hired you because you're talented. We'll become friends because you're a smart ass."

He chuckled and turned off the machine, removing the sensors from Mal's head. "You're a cipher,
Mal, but I like you."

"Is my brain working?" Mal grinned over.

"Despite all evidence to the contrary, the machine says it is." He gave Mal a wink and put the read
out in his folder. Mal's results matched the normal sample within acceptable parameters.

It was quite exciting.

"Excellent. Now we know. I am the sane one." Mal chuckled and stood. "Would you like Ghost's
personal items delivered here?"

"They can go to my rooms." And if there was one snicker he was going to delay Mal for longer even if
he had to drug him.

No snicker, but a definite smirk. "Of course, Doc. Do you need any equipment from the training
rooms installed?"

"Presumptuous pup. No." He shook his head. That was his business. His and Ghost's.

Malachi chuckled. "I'll have his things sent and I'll speak to Hercules regarding his salary."

He inclined his head. "Thank you, Mal."

"Anytime." Mal headed toward the door, then stopped, looked back. "If you want me to reserve a
playroom for you at any point, just let me know..."

"Bitch." He chuckled and shook head. "I'm sure you're busy."

"Yeah, but there's always time to tease a friend." Mal winked and left, leaving him with his boy.

Fire and ice... it was a good description for Mal, though he suspected most only saw the ice.

He made a few notes on Ghost's file, put the brainscans all together in his safe and went to check on
his patient.

Ghost was sitting up, face still and distant, eyes open and watching. "Hello, Doctor."

"Why don't you call me Trip?" He took Ghost's wrist and counted his pulse, admitting to himself it
was an excuse to touch.

"Okay." Ghost nodded, hair sliding against him. "Can I go back to my rooms now, Trip? Am I well?"

"Do you remember our talk earlier? You're no longer in the sub pool? Mal is moving your things to
my rooms. Ringing any bells?"

Ghost took a deep breath, and then nodded, giving him a quiet smile. "Yes. I remember. I'm sorry. I
had hoped you would find I was well."

"You aren't sick, Ghost. But your abilities mean you can't work in the sub pool because eventually it
would happen again." He pushed the lovely white hair back off Ghost's face. "I have a place for you
though."

"You... you want me?" Ghost lifted his face toward the touch.

"Yes, Ghost. I do." In more ways than one.

"I will attempt to be what you need... Sir? Trip?" Those fine green eyes shone at him, curious and
clear.

"You can call me whichever you're more comfortable with. I like Trip though."

"I do, too." He almost got a smile. "What should I do now?"

"Well. Are you hungry? Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Ghost nodded. "I am hungry. It feels like it's been days."

"Where would be more comfortable, Ghost? In the club or in my -- our -- rooms?" The poor boy's
whole world was about to be rearranged and he was still obviously confused and frightened about
what had happened.

Those eyes went wide. "Your rooms. Please. I... I don't go into the public floors. It's in my contract."

Of course Ghost didn't. He hadn't been thinking. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to overwhelm you or
make you feel like you were being forced to eat with me."

Ghost nodded, stood with the sheet draped around him gracefully. "I would like to eat with you,
please."

"Excellent." He held his arm out for the boy. "Your things should have been brought down by now.
We'll take the service elevator so that your unusual dress won't raise eyebrows."

A cool, soft hand wrapped around his arm. "Thank you, Trip. You are very considerate."

"It's my pleasure, Ghost."

He palmed the lock on their way out and then took Ghost home with as little fanfare as possible.

Luckily the corridors were empty and he entertained the boy with an amusing story or two about his
first days working for a club on a lunar base before he even knew what the lifestyle was.

Trip discovered that Ghost had a lovely laugh and that the boy moved with grace, matching his
rhythm almost immediately.

"Shall we test Mal's efficiency?" he asked Ghost with a grin as they arrived at their rooms. "Let's see
if your palm touch opens the door."

Ghost chuckled, reaching out and grinning as the door slid open. "Very efficient."

"Damn, I was hoping to tease him. Oh, well, I'm sure he'll give me plenty of opportunity." He gave
Ghost a wink and led the boy into his new home. "The kitchen and playroom are to the left, the
sitting room, bathroom and two bedrooms are to the right. My room is the first door -- the bigger
room. You may have the other. Call down to Kestrel for anything you need, you can even change the
bed if you wish, it's your space. Your stuff should already be there. How about you get dressed while
I order us some supper?"

Ghost nodded and moved silently down the hall, disappearing behind the second door.

He should have asked what the boy liked to eat, but the kitchen probably had the boy's likes and
dislikes programmed in. He called down.

"Yes?" came the growl, Moffat, the head chef himself answering the link.

"Short handed?" he asked casually after identifying himself.

"You know it. Stupid little pricks -- I can't even beat their asses when they show back up. They like
that too much!" Moffat laughed, proving he was less irked than he would have anyone believe.

"What magic are you concocting tonight, Moffat?"

"Lamb in a fruit glaze with veal and pork stuffing. My special salad and a creme brule with fresh
raspberry sauce for dessert."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Of course it does -- everything I concoct is wonderful, Doc."

He chuckled. It was one of the reasons why Moffat was such a good cook -- that confidence behind
the meat cleaver.

"One of the boys who used to live in the general sub quarters has been moved here -- Ghost. Do you
have him on file?"

"If he was in the sub quarters, I will."

"Amend the file, he's staying here now. Will the boy eat meat?"

Moffat grunted. "Hold on a sec. Basil! Get your lazy ass over here. How in all the moons of Jupiter do
I put changes into this?" There was another grunt. "You still there, Doc or did this infernal thing cut
you off?"

"I'm still here." He was lucky it wasn't a vidlink, he wouldn't have been able to hide his amusement.

It turned out he hadn't done such a good job even without any vid. "Don't you be laughing at me or
I'll lace your food with weevil poison. The boy's got a number of veg and fruit dishes listed here as
favorites, but there's no restrictions."

"Then send up two of everything on tonight’s evening meal special and a bottle of ice-wine." He
wished Moffat a good evening and went to change out of his scrubs and into a pair of lounge pants
and a comfortable shirt.

By the time he came back out into the common room, Ghost was waiting, dressed in icy pale blues
and purples, hair drawn back in the severest of plaits. Trip could see why another would find Ghost
to be distant, to find the purposeful calm unpleasant.

It didn't bother him though. Indeed, he thought that Ghost was probably a very peaceful companion
and he imagined that the drama that some of the subs seemed to live for would be happily absent.

"I've ordered a meal. I thought we could take it here in the sitting room. The kitchen knows to send
up all the utensils and crockery. I am not a cook."

"No. You're a physician. Would you like me to prepare you a cocktail?"

"I would," he replied, enjoying Ghost's company and, if he were honest, being pampered.

Ghost nodded and moved to the bar, calling up his preferences quickly. "Would you prefer a blue
pilan or a Velusin apertif, Trip?"

"You choose. And please, join me in one."

He received a simple nod and then two pilans were brought over, tart and cool, garnished with a bit
of berry. Perfect.

He patted the couch next to him in invitation. "How are you feeling?"

Ghost sat carefully, sipping the drink with a curious look. "I... I'm not sure. Oh, physically? I'm fine. A
touch hungry, but that's it."

"I didn't mean just physically, Ghost, though I'm pleased you are feeling better." He reached out to
slide a stray hair back behind Ghost's ear, fingers drawn the boy's skin.

Ghost's face tilted, pressed into his touch. So soft, so responsive -- odd, as responsive wasn't
something people usually used in conjunction with Ghost, according to his file.

"I've been doing some research, Ghost. Trying to learn more about your empathy so that I might
help you."

"Help me? Are you... Do you want to turn it off?" Ghost leaned away a bit, took another sip of his
drink.

"Not at all. In fact I was hoping to use it." He frowned. "No, I don't mean to use you, I mean to help
you use it. I want you to find control that doesn't rely on trying to repress it."

"Oh." There was a long silence, then he received a smile -- warm and real and arousing, beautiful. "I
would like that."

His breath caught. Oh. Oh, what secrets this boy his behind his quiet demeanor.

"I believe that you could assist me greatly with your talents, give our med office a real leading edge."

"I like being a help. I didn't mean to scare anyone before. Honest."

"I know. And it won't happen again because I know what to look for and you'll be working with me."

There was a knock at the door. "Ah, our dinner has arrived."

Ghost stood and went to the door, allowing the servers in. The boys went wide-eyed at the sight of
Ghost and Ghost's face went emotionless, completely cool as the long, fine fingers moved to arrange
the flatware like Ghost wanted it.

Trip dismissed the boys with a wave, hiding his smile, knowing the entire club would have heard of
Ghost's new status before the evening was over.

Ghost served him flawlessly, making sure his cushion was comfortable, filling his glass. It was
amazing, the way Ghost anticipated his wants. He waited until the lad was sitting next to him before
he began to eat.

Ghost ate quietly, careful to watch for his needs and answer them. It was comfortable,
companionable and he found himself enjoying his meal more than he had any in a long time.

And, as good as Moffat's cooking was, he didn't believe the food had anything to do with it.

They didn't talk very much, but Ghost seemed happy, pleasant and quiet beside him, eating with a
fair appetite.

When they were done but for their desserts, he reached for his bowl of creme brule and took a
spoonful, holding the utensil out to feed Ghost. Ghost's eyes went wide, lips parting for the sweet.
The boy really was lovely. He leaned close, watching as Ghost's lips closed over the spoon. He pulled
the silverware slowly from Ghost's mouth, warmth blooming in his belly from the sight.

Those green eyes closed, a soft moan sounding. "Oh..."

Suddenly he very much wanted to kiss Ghost and his breath left him with a whoosh. He leaned closer
still, tongue sliding along Ghost's lower lip. Ghost whimpered softly, lips parting, eyes opening.

"You don't have to," he whispered. "It is not a condition of your staying here with me." He would not
force Ghost into anything. Never.

"I know. I... I can feel you. I'm sorry." Ghost's fingers stroked his face.

"You're sorry because you don't feel the same way?" And he barely knew Ghost, that thought
shouldn't make his heart ache so. He usually did not fall so quickly. He usually didn't fall at all.

Ghost frowned. "No. I'm... I'm not supposed to, right? I lost my job, my rooms, all for feeling.

It's hard not to feel you. Harder than anyone else."

"You have permission to feel me. Always."

"Always?" Ghost looked stunned, hands beginning to reach for him. "I do?"

He held open his arms, wanting to gather Ghost close, but needing the boy to make the first move
himself -- he didn't have Ghost's empathy, he couldn't feel Ghost's emotions. "You do, Ghost. I don't
wish to hide from you or make you hide yourself and your ability from me."

Ghost gave a soft cry, and then pushed into his arms, eyes going distant for a second before that
focus snapped onto him. "Trip!"

"Ghost," he whispered, lips covering the boy's.

Ghost opened to him, moaning softly, hands holding his head. He kissed Ghost softly, tongue
pushing gently in and then teasing its way back out of the boy's mouth.

"Oh. You want me. I can feel you, rubbing against my mind and purring." Ghost grinned and licked
his bottom lip. "I like this."

"I want to rub against more than just your mind." He grinned back.

Oh, that got him another rich, surprised laugh, the sound oddly... unused.

He lay back on the couch, bringing Ghost down with him, the boy's weight light, easy.

"This is different than what I've done here." Ghost nuzzled his chest. "This isn't my job."

"No, this isn't your job, Ghost. I want you; I think you can tell that. And if you want me, too, we can
make love. You don't have to at all. It isn't your job or your duty or anything like that." He slid his
hand down along Ghost's braid and slowly undoing it.

"Oh..." Ghost moaned, stretching into the touch. "I want to make love. I want to feel the whole time.
Oh, yes. The whole time."

He spread the white hair out along Ghost's back. "Sounds good, does it?"

Ghost nodded, soft white hair pouring around him. "I haven't ever. I'm so curious."

"Never? Oh, you poor boy." How awful. No wonder Ghost was always so distant and cold. "Feel all
you want, please."

Ghost moaned, lips sliding against his own, tongue flicking out to tease. He opened his mouth,
letting Ghost in, welcoming him in. Ghost tasted him, soft, sweet purrs pushing into his lips and
making him ache. The more pleasure he felt, the more Ghost moved, the more sounds came.

Even though he couldn't feel Ghost's pleasure, it was clear how much pleasure the boy was
experiencing and it made his own increase.

Those hands moved with sure, trained motions, looking for more response, more pleasure. He
arched and pushed into the touches, gasping and moaning whenever a Ghost found sensitive spots.

Ghost slid downward, lips brushing his fingers, his wrists as his pants were opened. His breath
started to come faster, cock hard, pushing out as his pants were opened. It had been a long time
since he'd indulged in anything but self-pleasure as the need arose. This was almost overwhelming.

A soft whimper sounded, Ghost's hands wrapping around his shaft, tongue sliding over the tip.

He keened, the noise strange in his own ears, ripped from his throat by the feelings that that shot
through him. Ghost took him into that hot mouth, humming around him, making him throb. His
hands moved to Ghost's head, fingers sliding through the long hair, holding on tight as he flew.

He was taken in deep, Ghost swallowing around the head of his cock.

"Ghost!" He shouted, curling up around the long braid.

Ghost pulled at him, tongue and lips and throat maddening. His fingers twisted againt Ghost's

hair, whimpers coming from him. A soft cry sounded, Ghost's motions slowing.

"Sorry," he murmured, forcing his hands to loosen their hold. "It's been awhile."

"It's so big." Ghost nodded, cheeks flushed and damp.

"Yes. Yes. Big." He stroked Ghost's cheeks, a shiver of pleasure going through him.

Another nod and Ghost's head bent back toward his cock, lips parted.

"Wait," he murmured. "We could both do this."

Pale green eyes met his and Ghost shook his head. "It's too big. I can't think if you, if we both..."

"All right. But I'll do you after," he promised.

"You won't have to, Trip." His cock was taken in deep, Ghost pulling hard, making him scream.

He pushed up with his hips, unable to stop, the pleasure almost unbearable. Ghost drew the

pleasure higher and higher, hands tugging him in deeper. With a shout he came hard, the pleasure
more than he had ever felt before.

Ghost rested against his thighs, breath coming quick and light, face hidden by the pale hair.

Trip petted the sweet face. Oh. Oh. "That was amazing."

"Thank you." Ghost nodded, then slowly pulling away, eyes wet.

"Wait. Stop. What's wrong? What have I done?" Oh, please, he hadn't meant to hurt the boy.

"Nothing bad. Nothing. I swear. I..." He got a sweet, sad little smile. "I'll never be able to do this

again and not feel. Never."

"Well, as I told you, you could always feel me, that shouldn't be a problem."

Ghost nodded and stepped away. "Yes."

He frowned, reaching out. "Ghost? What's wrong?"

"I..." Ghost's eyes filled with tears. "I... I can feel you in me. Vibrating. Wanting. I can feel you."

"And you don't want that. I'm sorry." Damn it, he'd tried to make sure this was consensual, to make
sure that Ghost didn't feel he had to and now the boy was upset.

Ghost grew more pale, shivering. "I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know how to let you go.
I'm sorry. I'll..." The boy stepped back again, tripping over the table and falling, dishes flying as Ghost
panicked.

He was on his feet immediately, helping Ghost up, holding the boy close. "Shh. Shh. Please, Ghost.
You don't have to do anything. You don't have to do anything at all."

"Have to? Have to? I don't understand. Do you understand? Are you hearing me?"

Something was definitely wrong and he wasn't sure what it was. "I don't think so. I want to
understand, Ghost, but I don't think I do."

"You. I can feel you. In me. So long, there wasn't anything. No feeling. None if I could help it.

And you're inside me now. I can feel you, bouncing inside me, because I let you in and I don't know
what to do now."

"Oh." He pet Ghost gently. "Enjoy it?" he suggested softly. "Unless... you don't want me there?"

Tear-filled eyes lifted to look at him. "I want you. I do, but you have to be good."

"I'm not being good?" He hadn't felt this inept since he'd first started med school.

Ghost looked at him, frustration clear. "Inside me. You're in me, bouncing and bouncing and
bouncing and I can feel you now. I used to feel my Gran, but she didn't bounce in me."

"I can try meditating?" He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths and tried to think... un-
bouncy thoughts.

He felt Ghost slowly relax, breath slowing. "Oh. Oh, thank you. You wanted so big. I'd never felt
anything so big. I've never brought someone in on purpose and it went so big so fast."

"I'm sorry, Ghost. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know." Ghost nodded. "I know you didn't. I didn't know you would. I don't know if it did.

Hurt, I mean. It was just... Like I couldn't breathe. Like everything was too much, but I couldn't wrap
myself away and leave you on the outside and that's weird."

"Am I still inside you?" he asked. He was going to have to do more research, dig deeper. He wouldn't
hurt Ghost again, not if he could help it.

Ghost nodded, brought their foreheads together. "Can't you feel it, too? You're in me, quiet and still,
a sleeping tiger."

"I wish I could. Maybe in time." He kissed Ghost softly.

Ghost's lips opened again, body melting against him, hips rocking gently.

"Oh yes," he murmured. "Your turn."

"I get a turn?" Ghost moaned, watching his eyes.

"Yes." He slowly went to his knees, working to open Ghost's pants.

"Oh... Oh, tops don't... You shouldn't, Trip. I..." Ghost's cock was long and thin and hard, wet tipped,
the scent of arousal heady.

"I'm inside you, Ghost. Can't you feel that I want to do this?" He leaned forward, licking at the tip.

"Yes!" Ghost arched, hands on his shoulders, pale skin going to pink.

He nuzzled the sweet cock, rubbing his cheeks against it like a cat.

"Yes. Yes, Trip. That's how you feel inside my head." Ghost's voice was raw, shocked.

"Is it good?" he asked, nuzzling Ghost's balls in their velvety sacs and then licking at the base of
Ghost's cock.

"Yes..." Ghost's head was thrown back, throat working.

"Good."

It was great, knowing he was making Ghost feel good. Had anyone ever asked the boy before?
Cared? Not that subs were badly treated here, but if he had a reputation for being unemotional... He
took Ghost's cock in his mouth and slowly went down on it.

"Oh..." Ghost gasped, fingers tight on his shoulders.

He hummed around the silky flesh. Ghost tasted good and he tried not to let it get him too excited,
tried to stay calm so he didn't... well bounce inside the boy. This was for Ghost. Soft little cries filled
the air, so quiet, so full of need they made him ache.

Trip cupped Ghost's balls in one hand, handling them gently as he sucked the hard flesh in his
mouth. His head bobbed up and down, and he swallowed every time the tip of Ghost's cock hit the
back of his throat.

"I... Is it... Is it supposed to feel this way? Like you can't breathe? Like you're in warm water?"

Was it possible that no one hand ever done anything at all like this for Ghost? Ever?

Not wanting to stop he tried to "feel" his answer at Ghost. He concentrated on how good it was to
be doing it and thought "yes" really hard.

"Yes!" Ghost's hips began to move, the flavor strong in his mouth as the drops began to slide out,
rich and hot.

He relaxed, hands wrapping around Ghost's hips, encouraging the movements and he pulled more
and more of Ghost's need into himself. It didn't take any time before Ghost was moving with him,
calling his name, coming in salty-sweet bursts on his tongue.

Trip swallowed it all down and then slowly let Ghost's prick slide from his mouth, nuzzling it again,
almost purring like the big cat Ghost kept telling him he was.

Ghost's eyes were closed, breath coming fast, hands trembling on his shoulders. "Oh..."

He looked up into the pale eyes. "You okay, Ghost?"

"I... I think so. I want to sit down. With you. Okay?"

He smiled. "Okay." Yes, it was more than okay. He helped Ghost get out of his clothes properly and
then went to the couch, pulling the boy into his arms, softly stroking Ghost's back. Ghost curled in,
moaning as the slender body relaxed, went boneless.

It was peaceful and good. He'd never been able to live with anyone for very long before as he'd
always found always having someone around to be hard work, but with Ghost, it was easy to just be.

It might have been frightening for Ghost and annoying to Mal, but he had a feeling Ghost's
'breakdown' was going to prove a boon to him.

***

He slept and slept and slept, warm and floating and easy deep inside.

When he woke, he kept his eyes closed, just listening to Trip breathe. It was dark, late. Quiet.

Trip was relaxed, emotions easy and peaceful where they wrapped around him. Such a luxury, a
forbidden pleasure, to feel and feel and feel without being ashamed.

Ghost reached out, hands sliding up Trip's belly, careful, gentle. Trip purred stretching against him
like a cat. His giggle escaped him, and he scritched, so lightly. A tiger. His own tiger.

Trip rubbed against him and then stilled. "Mmm... Ghost?"

He pulled his hand back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Oops.

Trip took his hand and brought it back to his belly. "Don't be sorry. And don't stop?"

"Oh. Okay." He started touching again, feeling the whole time, listening to the pretty sounds Trip
made.

"Feel's good," Trip whispered. "Can you feel?"

Ghost nodded, mouth opened, distracted. Yes. Yes, he could feel Trip inside him -- purring, sliding,
nuzzling, beginning to pace.

Trip's fingers slid over his belly, stroking, copying his movements.

"Oh..." He stretched, legs sliding against Trip's, fingers stroking Trip's throat.

Trip's purrs got louder, Trip beginning to move against him. Ghost shivered, lost in the sensations, in
the feelings, touching the tiger in his head. Trip's mouth covered his, lips warm, tongue hot, wet,
sliding into him. His eyes opened, hands wrapping around Trip's shoulders, gasping.

"This okay?" Trip asked, hands sliding over his skin, pleasure and need and desire pushing into his
mind.

"Yes. I can feel you." He stretched, pushed into Trip's hands.

"Mmm, I can feel you, too."

"You can?" Ghost laughed, hands petting, caught inside the touches.

"Yeah. Skin's so soft and you're so happy, like butterflies." Trip froze suddenly. "Ghost. I can feel
you."

"Yes. Yes, you said. I can feel you." He stilled, looking close, waiting.

"Your happiness, it's like butterfly wings inside me."

He giggled and nodded. "This is good. Butterflies are pretty."

Trip laughed. "It's stronger for you, isn't it?"

"You're a tiger, a big cat, roaming and growling and nuzzling."

"It doesn't hurt, does it? Your butterflies don't hurt me -- they feel good."

He blushed, leaned close to whisper. "You... It... It's exciting and safe and strong."

"Oh... Ghost." Trip purred and kissed him, mouth hard, emotions spiking.

He opened wide -- lips and mind both, the feelings between them sharp and heady, his cock hard

and aching where it rubbed against Trip.

"You're amazing." Trip slipped between his legs, sliding against him.

Ghost was vibrating and hot, inside and out, body thrumming. He arched up, rubbing against Trip,
knees spread and raised, offering.

Trip moaned, nuzzled his neck a moment and whispered. "I'll be right back." Then Trip got up and
hightailed it out of the sitting room.

Ghost giggled, the image in his head one of a tiger batting butterfliess.

Trip was back really soon, holding a tube up triumphantly. "It's in a medical wrapper rather than a
sexual one, but it's the same stuff."

Oh, that made him laugh harder, tickled and happy and pleased. He'd never been so happy, so easy.

"That's a great laugh you've got, Ghost." Trip climbed back on the couch, settling between his legs.
"And a good look on you."

"You make me happy." He spread wide, exposing himself easily.

"And you make me happy, Ghost."

Trip bent and placed a kiss on the inside of his thigh and then the tip of his cock and then one slick,
warm finger slid into his body. Oh... He pressed down against the intrusion, moaning softly. Most
people didn't want to fuck him, most people he wasn't comfortable with them touching him so
close, but this? He wanted.

Trip moaned. "Your butterfly wings just got slow and sensuous. This is intoxicating, feeling your
pleasure like this. Even if it isn't strong like how you feel things."

"Oh, you can feel me..." Magic. This was magic.

"It seems I can." Trip smiled down at him and then brought their lips together, the kiss deep and
long.

It was like sinking and sinking and sinking, all wrapped up in pleasure and heat and Trip. Trip pushed
another finger into him, stretching him gently, fingertips finding his gland and sliding across it.

He gasped and arched, head tossing with sensation. "Can I ask for more? I don't know your rules,
Trip..."

"Ask, Ghost. You can always ask, you can always refuse."

Another finger slipped into him, Trip's fingertips brushing his gland again and again. Everything
slowed, the world all pleasure and lightning and gasping and Trip and he couldn't focus anymore.

Trip was moaning, kissing him, loving him body and mind.

He was lost and he finally stopped fighting for sense and just felt -- wrapping himself inside pleasure.

"Oh Ghost! Yes!'

Trip's fingers disappeared, but the sensations didn't fade, instead they increased as Trip's cock
pushed in deep. Heat poured through him, filled him, stretched him. A low, needy cry echoed as his
body squeezed and held tight. Trip's kisses soothed him, slid over his cheeks and his nose and his
lips. "Easy, my butterfly, easy. We'll take it slowly; you'll get what you need."

Oh.

He reached for that calm, that peace inside the wild pleasure, needing it. Trip's forehead was resting
against his breastbone, Trip's breath slowing, becoming controlled.

It eased him and he could see again, hands petting Trip's hair. "I... I'm here."

Trip groaned and raised his head, eyes smiling at him. "Good. Because I need to move."

Ghost nodded, relieved, hips trying to shift on their own. "Oh. Oh, good."

Nodding, Trip pulled most of the way out and Ghost could feel the long, slow glide of Trip's cock as it
eased almost all the way out of his body. Then Trip was pushing forward again, filling him up.

"So big..." He'd never felt this -- not like this. Not so much. Everywhere. Firing his nerves.

"Yes." Trip kept moving, the pace slow, but increasing a little with every thrust.

Pleasure was everywhere, the tiger inside his head pacing and panting and watching him, body
undulating. Trip's breath came as loud pants, body moving over him, pushing into him, cock nudging
his gland each time. Then Trip wrapped a hand around his cock, tugging in time with the increasingly
hard thrusts.

He met each thrust, crying out, balls tight and aching where they pressed against Trip with every
motion.

"Ghost!" He could feel the pleasure begin to peak for Trip.

Ghost arched, throwing himself over the edge and dragging Trip along. Trip cried out, soaring with
him, filling him with burning heat. He could hear the tiger roar, it echoed and echoed and echoed
inside him.

Trip shuddered and shook and collapsed against him with a soft moan. "Oh, Ghost... that was
amazing."

He nodded, words faded away.

His lover nuzzled close, hands sliding over his skin in random patterns. "Wow. I can't believe you've
been taught to hide that. I can't believe you could."

He nuzzled into his purring tiger. "Have to. People don't like it. Oh... It feels... Never going to want to
touch like that and not feel."

"You won't have to, Ghost, I'm not letting you go."

Oh. Oh. Relief poured over him, no more scenes all wrapped in cotton, no more emptiness. No
more. "Promise?"

"I promise, Ghost. I won't give you up and I won't let anyone else have you." Trip frowned suddenly.
"I won't keep you here against your will though -- I don't mean that you're a prisoner."

He blinked up, surprised. "A prisoner? No. No, I want to feel you. I want to stay. I want to."

Trip smiled at him. "Good. Good. I just don't want you to ever feel as if you do not have a choice."

He chuckled, reached up. "My tiger."

"Rowr." Trip nuzzled against his hand.

Ghost laughed harder, the image duplicated in his head, making him giddy.

"Oh, I'm glad I found you, Ghost. I have always been a relatively happy man, but now I have joy in
my life."

Ghost shook his head. "Butterflies. You have butterflies."

Trip nodded. "Yes. I do. I never imagined I would one day be able to connect with someone on such
a level."

Ghost shrugged. He didn't know. He knew Trip felt good, felt right. It was enough. They were
enough.

"Yes. It's good." Trip murmured the words, warm and a good heavy on top of him.

He wrapped his arms around Trip and yawned. "Napping then breakfast?"

"Yes. Let me just make sure anyone needing the med office gets through to me here -- I'm usually in
the office by now."

"Oh. Do you need to go? I'll bring food. I can cook." He frowned patting Trip's hip, not wanting to
take Trip away from his work.

"I usually put in more hours than I'm required to. And there's usually not much to do before evening
when people really start playing. And as long as I have the commlink buzzing forward to me, I'm
fine." Trip nuzzled him. "I didn't used to have much to do outside of work, reading medical updates...
stuff like that."

"Boring." He winked at Trip, daring to flirt, to play.

Trip laughed, delight dancing along his nerves. "No doubt."

He rubbed their noses together, brushed their lips together, so happy. Trip kissed him and got up
again, traipsing over to the communit and pressing a few buttons before returning. Both the going
away and returning views were quite nice.

He leaned forward and licked Trip's belly, nuzzling.

"Mmm..." Trip's hands dropped to his head, stroking.

"So warm." He smiled up. "My tiger."

"Yes, Ghost. I do believe I am yours."

"That was pretty easy..." He nuzzled, grinning.

"The best things are, my sweet butterfly."

He nodded and surged up, pushing into Trip's arms.

Trip's arms closed around him immediately, pulling him closer. "Are we skipping the nap?" Trip
sounded both happy and amused.

"Mmm... Whatever you want, Trip." Showers were fun. And beds...

"Let's go make love in the shower. And then we can feed each other. And then make love again.

And then maybe see if we can make it to the med office." Trip grinned. "You make me feel young,
Ghost."

Ghost beamed, stroking his tiger's face. "Not old at all. Come play with me."

"Thank you, Ghost. I think I will."

***

They showered. They made love. They ate breakfast. They made love.

He'd never felt this before, this... feeling inside him, feelings that belonged to Ghost. It truly was
amazing.

Finally he asked if Ghost would like to go to the med office with him.

Ghost nodded slowly. "I can. What do you want me to do?"

"I would like you to keep me company." He chuckled. "No, really, it can get lonely. But I'd also like
you to observe and to pick up any strong feelings and let me know about them. I don't mean push
into people's minds and emotions, just to... pick up anything that might be out there, you know? It
could be very helpful."

"Okay." The long white hair was pulled back into a tail, Ghost dressed in a gauzy, icy green.

He felt his prick twitch and he shook his head. Just how many times could a grown man get it up in
twenty four hours? He grinned. Quite a few times apparently. Trip took Ghost's hand and led him
toward the med office. Ghost stayed close, quiet, careful not to interact with the few people they
met. "Of course we could have a quiet day -- I often do. It's a cushy job really."

"Yeah? Do you like it? Being a doctor?" Ghost leaned toward him.

"I like being able to help people -- makes me feel good."

"My... My gran helped people. People came from all over to see her."

"What was her gift?" He was curious to know how the gifts passed along.

"She could tell where people hurt inside them... in their hearts." Ghost grinned. "She was so happy.
Funny. She could make you laugh and laugh."

"I bet there's a lot of her in you." He could picture her, a shorter, female version of Ghost with a
wrinkled face and bright eyes.

He could actually picture her.

"Did you do that?" he asked.

"I don't know." Those bright eyes blinked up at him. "Did I?"

"I suddenly saw her in my mind -- very clearly."

"Did you?" Ghost blinked. "Really? My Gran?"

"Yes. Unless she's not a shorter, more wrinkled version of you?"

Ghost's laugh echoed, turning heads. "Yes!"

Oh, what a delightful sound. He would endeavor to hear it as often as possible.

They arrived at the med office and he let them in, setting the door to open and the comm to ring
through to here instead of his rooms.

Ghost wandered through the office, quiet, clothes floating around him. "Where should I sit?"

"You can take my chair, I'll order up another one like it from housekeeping." He grinned suddenly.
"Or maybe one more suited to two..."

Ghost blushed a sweet pink and curled up in his chair, quiet and pretty, a happy peace just pouring
out.

It would be distracting until he got used to it, but more so if he was feeling what Ghost was, only
without Ghost being near. Which made him wonder just how far apart they could be and still feel
each other. He imagined Ghost's range was much higher than his own.

He chuckled. "How do you feel about empirical experiments, Ghost?"

"Hmmm?" Ghost's white eyebrows raised. "They make you bouncy, so they must be okay."

Trip laughed again. "I'm thinking we should do some tests to see how exactly this thing between us
works, hmmm?"

He pulled over the patient chair and sat across from Ghost. "First tell me what you know about how
it works. And remember -- you don't need to feel ashamed about it or hide it from me, Ghost. I think
this is a good thing."

Ghost tilted his head. "It's like water. It just pours into me and, if I don't stop it, it comes. Like this."
Ghost closed those pretty eyes, face going dead and silent and blank, the pleasure and happiness in
the room dissolving.

He gasped. "Okay, stop that."

The warmth came back, pouring back between them like a flood, Ghost's hands reaching to take his.

He took Ghost's hand and shook his head. "That was almost physically painful. How did you stand
holding yourself cut off from everyone for so long?"

"I had to. I have to. It's so big and my Gran said no one could know or they'd hurt me."

That made sense. "Well no one will be hurting you now, Ghost. No one."

To his surprise, Ghost's eyes twinkled, laughter flittering inside him. "But, Trip. That's what this place
is for."

He laughed, pulling Ghost out of the chair and into his lap, kissing the boy soundly. Ghost giggled,
wrapping close, lips parted for him. He purred and leaned in, kissing Ghost, enjoying the physical and
emotional sensations.

Ghost's need was slow, the happiness moving faster, the sensations working together to be heady
inside him. He deepened the kiss, hand sliding down Ghost's spine. Ghost settled against him,
rubbing against his belly, hands tangling in his hair. So sensuous and giving, he couldn't believe this
jewel, this happiness had been hidden here all this time.

"You make me want so much." The words were whispered into his mouth, eyes offering him
everything.

"I know." And he did, he could feel it. Feel it. "You make me want, too."

Ghost grinned, hand cupping his cheeks. "I know."

"Of course." He shifted them so Ghost was straddling him, tugging their groins together.

"Again? Trip? What if someone comes in?" Ghost's body didn't care, hips moving them together,
rubbing.

"We'll stop," he murmured. He didn't want to though, didn't want to stop touching and feeling.

The need was addictive.

"Mmm..." Ghost's hair slid out of its clasp, pouring down over his arms, smooth as silk.

He purred, pushing a hand between them to free their cocks, hand stroking the sweet belly.

"Mmm... my tiger, purring for me..."

"You make me purr, Ghost."

He grabbed Ghost's ass firmly and tugged them against each over and over again, their cocks sliding
together. Ghost was hard, hot, ready for him again, gasping into his lips. He moved them together,
losing himself in the pleasure -- his own and Ghost's, the butterfly like feelings fluttering against him
hard.

Soon Ghost was jerking, crying out into his lips, eyes wide and watching him. His own orgasm caught
him almost by surprise; he'd been so consumed by Ghost's.

A soft chuckle surprised them both, Ghost ducking into his arms and hiding, mind slamming closed.
Mal was leaning against the doorframe, grinning. "Talk about up close and personal healing..."

He fought his blush as he quickly tucked Ghost back into his pants, hand over Ghost's head as he
looked up to Mal. "It is considered polite to knock."

"Yeah. Comm had you in the office. I was checking on your patient. He looks... healthy. I'll give a
report to the big boss." Mal looked amused as hell and not in the least sorry. "They'll miss you in
with the workerbees, Ghostie."

Ghost didn't respond, just curled closer.

"What are you going to tell Hercules?" He didn't want anything coming back on Ghost.

"That he's awake, responsive. Communicating with you." Mal's face got serious. "Teasing, not
malicious. Not my style."

"I'm sorry, Mal, I'm just... a little overprotective, I guess." He knew Mal wasn't a bad guy, despite the
tough image. The man cared about the club and his people.

"It happens at first." Mal winked. "Hell, you've met Des. It can just happen. My suggestion? Take a
week off. Or two weeks half-time. Give yourselves some privacy."

He nodded. It was an excellent idea, because until he became used to Ghost's feelings sliding against
him he wasn't going to be able to really concentrate on anything else. And this cut off thing Ghost
was doing now hurt like fucking hell.

"I'll work on getting a replacement for while I'm off, as long as you don't mind me taking holidays so
soon. I haven't been on staff a year yet."

"I'll make it work. You're not leaving the club, so it's not like we won't have you for a serious
emergency. That's why Tyr's here, yeah? He's a senior nurse. The man can handle it." Mal grinned
again. "You don't worry about it. Go and do your intense therapy. Order what all you need for your
playroom from Mouse. Good to see you awake, Ghost. Next time, you'll have to say hello, though."

"Thanks, Mal. That's more than decent of you." He gave Ghost a squeeze.

"I'm off." Mal nodded and disappeared as quickly as he came, whistling low, tapping on his
communit.

Ghost sighed, resting against him, still so quiet and still.

"Ghost? Open to me again, please? It hurts to be without you."

"Oh." He was given a surprised look, then a soft kiss, his mind flooded with butterflies.

He relaxed, hands sliding over Ghost. "Come on, let's go home and play hooky."

Ghost nodded, happiness tangible. "Yes, Trip. Yes."

He set Ghost on his feet and locked up the med office, all but floating back to their quarters.

***

He was dreaming -- at least he thought he was, fingers slowly carding through a napping tiger's fur,
humming, warm and peaceful and quiet. He could hear a waterfall in the distance, could hear birds,
thought he could see the clouds in the sky.

Ghost curled into the tiger, between the big beast's paws, snuggling, moaning, rubbing and giggling
at the low growl.

His tiger.

His love.

The tiger started grooming him, licking his face, his lips, his neck as the big paws stroked him.

Oh. Oh, that was...

Good.

Very good.

He stretched, toes curled, happy moans filling the air.

The tiger was purring, murmuring his name with a low growl.

"Oh... Trip. My tiger." He smiled as his eyes opened and the tiger in his mind morphed with the
warm eyes watching him.

Trip purred again, smile wide and his face was kissed again, tongue soft on his skin. "Good morning,
Ghost."

"Mmm...morning." His hands were tangled in Trip's hair, petting, stroking. Two days of their vacation
had passed, full of sleep and love and touching. Perfect.

Trip moved against him, lazily sliding their hard cocks together.

"Feel you..." He bit his bottom lip, nearly swimming in the pleasure between them.

"Yes... I don't think I'll ever take it for granted, ever stop being amazed by this." Trip's tongue slid
along his teeth and lips.

Ghost whimpered, opened, happy and safe, the connection between them unhindered by worry.

Trip's tongue slid in and explored his mouth, the hands at his back touching firmly, but not so hard as
to hurt or leave bruises. His legs wrapped around Trip's waist, moaning as sensation poured into
him.

Moaning, Trip reached down for his ass, cupping it, pulling their groins together tighter and moving
faster against him.

"My... my tiger. Oh, Trip. Love. I feel..." His heart was pounding, body trembling.

"I know. I know."

Trip's kisses became hard, deep, joining everything Trip's mind and body were telling him,

loving him, sharing with him. Ghost soared, cock pulsing, body shaking hard as the world became
only Trip and sex and love. His own orgasm was doubled by Trip's, his tiger's pleasure pouring
through him.

When it was over, he was shaking, undone, so happy. "Oh. Oh, Trip..."

"Yes. Yes, my beautiful Ghost." Trip brought their foreheads together, nuzzling, looking at him, into
him.

"Mmm... yours." He smiled, relaxed and easy in his skin. "Yours."

"Yes." Trip's hands were warm on his skin. "I have never thought of myself as possessive, but I

find that I am."

Ghost tilted his head, smiling. "No sharing. No other men."

"No. No more. Never." Trip growled the words, hands tightening on him, pulling him closer.

"You are mine, Ghost. Mine to touch, mine to hold, mine to love."

He reached up, petting his tiger, soothing, unafraid. "Yes. I am for you. Yours to love."

Trip purred, eyes half closing under the touches. "My sweet Ghost. Mine."

"My tiger." He hummed, continuing to touch, allowing his comfort and love to wrap around Trip like
the kisses of a thousand butterflies. Trip just kept purring, nuzzling into the touches, reveling in
them. "My brave, strong tiger..." He leaned up, rubbing their cheeks together. "So much better than
dreams."

"I couldn't have dreamed you up, Ghost. Not if I'd tried forever."

Ghost giggled, hugged Trip close. "No. I was not seeking you, but I'm glad you found me."

"Me too, sweet love, me too." Trip kissed him and laughed as his stomach growled. "Shall we see
what we can find in the kitchen?"

"Food and dishes, Trip. Food and dishes." He wriggled out of Trip's arms, giggling as he was tickled,
hair flying as they ran and played.

So much better than dreams.

End