Lina's social life had become very busy over the past two months. Psychics who knew about this said she was avoiding herself. Now, the added noise helped to drown out any word from Nick, although she couldn't quite forget the mental caress she had felt one night that week.
Saturday night found her at the Reservoir Lounge with friends. The Res was small, dimly lit, and popular. There was a definite old school flavour to the whole place. She hadn't been in a while - it was nice to know the bouncer still recognized her and their favourite waiter was glad to see her. A nice, normal evening of Coke and chocolate mousse while her friends got comfortably less sober and they each drooled over their favourite member of the Saturday night band.
"What is wrong with men today?" Alice demanded suddenly.
"I know what you mean. All I want is just one man who I can think about getting naked with, without wanting to puke" Helen agreed, playing with the last olive in her martini.
"There's Kevin," Lina pointed out the band leader, whom Helen had a crush on.
"Kevin's so taken he doesn't count!" Helen waved her off. "Now, that guy at the table by the door who's been staring at us all night is cute, but I think he's probably a moron and I don't want to get naked with a moron."
"What makes you say that?"
"He waited until he'd had about seven beers -- and who orders Molson Canadian at the Reservoir, anyway -- before heading over here."
Lina had her back to the door, but knew from Alice's mischevious grin that she was about to be hit on. She steeled herself.
"Hey baby." Having taken a sacred vow never to respond to "baby", Lina ignored the fairly drunk newcomer. Undeterred, he took the empty chair beside her. "Hey kitten, if I rub you right will ya purr for me?"
Alice and Helen burst into laughter. Lina's reaction was just as immediate, if more hostile. "Please go *away*," she told him coldly. When he chose to stay, basking in what he though was the approving laughter of her friends, she stood instead.
"C'mon I was just tryin' to be friendly," he protested, grabbing her forearm.
Lina jerked her arm straight, so that her fingers were pointing to the floor and sent a telekinetic charge from shoulder to fingertip. "Leave me alone!" The unfortunate man flew backwards, falling off his chair onto the floor. Almost simultaneously the busboy dropped his container of dirty dishes off the table. In the confusion, Lina ran.
She didn't stop to think until she dropped into a seat on the subway. Her friends had seen her make quick exits before - at most there would be a "call us" message when she got home. But why had she reacted like that? Usually, like her friends, she reacted to being hit on with peals of laughter. And it wasn't as if everyone and their dog hadn't called her kitten. Hell, even her ENT specialist used to... wait, *dogs*.
I'm home, the house is empty... you're not working... Nick left the invitation open-ended and she teleported in immediately only to burst into giggles. Her partner was stretched out on a lawn lounge chair covered in pugs. They were crawling all over him, one fuzzy, cuddly, hyperactive, ticklish mass. Nick was laughing too, but made no move to shoo his overenthusiastic pets.
Lina scooped up one small dog on the brink of falling off and sat on the grass with it in her lap. "So many dogs, Nickelodeon," she teased. "Not even one cat?"
"I only need one Kitten," he replied smiling at her. "And I have her already."
Lina bit her lip at the memory. Nick had only used the nickname once, but it was a reference to the number of times she'd "visited" his mind, curling up behind his eyes to watch and comment. He frequently imagined her as a small cat riding on his shoulder, curled around his neck, or tucked in his jacket the way Brian carried Tyke.
It was one of the things that had made them both so adamant that, flaws notwithstanding, they did have a partnership -- that urge to be together as often and as long as possible. Unlike normal partners like Peggy and Jeremy, their 24/7 link wasn't very deep and merging minds took effort, but it was an effort they made once a week at least, simply to be with each other.
Memory after memory surfaced, a parade of shared moments. Walking across the still campus at midnight, Nick watching through her eyes, half-wishing he too could attend university. The feel of cool water against Nick's skin as he took long, lazy strokes through a lake on a hot day. The comforting knowledge of his presence during a lonely subway ride after a tough day.
Her most intimate memory, only a year old, suddenly loomed large. Nick had been scuba diving when she joined him and the feel of welcome was overwhelming. Although she shared his memories and already knew what it was like to explore under the sea, he had always wanted to share the experience with her in real time. The colours, life and otherworldliness of the ocean were breathtaking. Names of fish flitted through their minds as an afterthought - Nick wasn't really taking note, it was just stuff he knew. What he really wanted to feel her reaction to was the stillness. Even as the area teemed with life and activity, they both sensed a serenity. It made them vibrantly aware, for the first time in a long time, of each other.
Normally, the physical was an afterthought. "Here, taste this!", or "Isn't this *hot*?" usually being all they dealt with taste, smell or touch. In that one moment though, Lina was acutely conscious of every move of Nick's body, every breath he took, the blood coursing through his veins, the feel of the wetsuit against his skin and of the greater pressure from the sea, a pressure that was all around them, pushing them together into one small universe where only the two of them existed.
She knew he was experiencing the same hyper-awareness of her own sleeping body. In any other circumstances, the sheer sensuality of the moment would have Lina pulling away, running scared. But this time she embraced it, let herself become aroused by it, acknowledged Nick's arousal. Time stopped, there were no words, only feelings.
The moment had faded away of itself, leaving a sense of peace that stayed with both of them for days afterwards.
Lina missed her stop, mourning blindly for the loss of that peace, certain she would never feel its like again.