Disclaimer: Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and KISS are actual persons, and they are property of themselves. The portrayal of them in this story is fictitious, and is the work of a fan, for entertainment purposes only, not to demean or harm the people mentioned. Other characters are copyright by Trynia Merin. My thanks to Eisencookie, Ms Starchild and Ilovepaul66 for help with this story!

A whole week passed for Julia, after she had moved her things into a storage unit. She luckily had her own car, which fit easily into Paul's garage. She didn't see much of him for the next few days because he had a booksigning in New York City to attend with Gene, and a few television appearances to plug KISS new book, Kiss Alive forever on the East Coast.

Paul left her the code to enter the gated community, along with a set of his house keys. He let her know she was welcome to anything in the fridge, and not to worry about housekeeping because Christine would come in a few times a week to keep it tidy.

On Sunday morning, he bade her goodbye, with his profound apologies.

"It's okay,' she had said. "I know you're busy..."

"Just make yourself at home," he urged, kissing her lips gently as Chris helped him take his bags to the limousine. "I'll be back by next Saturday afternoon... we could go do something on Sunday if you'd like..."

"Great, see you then," she nodded. "Only I'll be away Sunday... I have an appointment..."

"Sure," Paul nodded, with a bit of momentary disappointment. "Have fun! And don't have any wild parties when I'm gone... at least not till I get back!"

He blew her a kiss after he climbed into the limo, and shut the door. She watched the limousine as he pulled out from the driveway, and waved a farewell to her host. In a matter of minutes, he was gone, and she was left alone in the large townhouse.

The rest of the week flew by as she figured out the best route to commute to the plastic surgeon's practice where she worked. Finally, she had the route down pat by the time Friday morning rolled around. She anxiously awaited the next morning when Paul would return.

"Miss Bryce?" asked the surgeon as she came past. "I'm sorry but they gave me this to give you..."

Dr. Marisol handed Julia a pink slip, and she took it, stunned. Slowly she sank to a chair, and the surgeon she worked for sat on the edge of her desk, with a look of sorrow and regret on her face.

"What?" she asked.

"I just found out this morning..."

"Why? Since when?"

"The practice had to cut back on a few positions, and we're having to let the most recent hires go... including a few receptionists..."

"But I..."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my choice... it was the Director," Dr. Marisol said, patting her shoulder. "I have a list of other surgeons around.... I'll try my best to get you a referral..."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"If it were up to me, I'd keep you on myself..." Dr. Marisol said. "Here's a card for one of my friends. He works in a practice that does reconstructive surgery for children... at the University of LA's hospital... it probably wont' pay as much as here... but it's a job... they need surgical nurses..."

Taking the information, Julia hugged her friend and went to pack her personal effects. As she cleaned out her desk into a few boxes, her friend Cynthia stood by, helping her.

"You're fired?" she asked. "Since WHEN?"

"I don't know... there was something about cutbacks, and they're letting the most recent hires go..." she sighed.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "I know you work at the spa..."

"Only part time," she sighed. "Dr. Marisol got me a referral..."

"Good place to start... but did they give you a reason? I smell something rotten here if you don't mind me saying so."

"I think it was Chad," she muttered, remembering it was his connections that had gotten her this job. She worked only part time at the spa, about ten hours ever other Saturday and on consultation. Things were getting progressively worse since she had cleaned up the stuff from her driveway.

"Damn," Cindy said as Julia brought her up to speed. "Is there anything you need?"

"I'm staying with a friend," she sighed.

"Good idea... you don't want to tempt fate with that jackass of an ex..." Cindy nodded. "Why don't I help you take this out to your car..."

"Thanks," she nodded. "I'd better get out of here..."

Still numb, Julia drove through the outskirts of LA towards the Hills, and the exclusive community, which was her home for the past week. She tried to push the disappointment back and focus on how excited she would be when Paul returned. After all, he had clearly stated he didn't' expect her to pay any rent as long as she stayed with him. She would have to address that issue to make her more comfortable with their arrangement.

She saw Christine's car, a Toyota corolla, in the driveway, and pulled up to the other side, where Paul's Mercedes was parked with its cover concealing it. The Porsche was inside the garage most likely. Her own Honda Civic seemed utilitarian in comparison to some of the other cars she'd seen, but she kept it waxed and washed so its light blue exterior shimmered in the sunlight.

Slowly she got out, and walked to the front door, on the garage level. Walking in with snails pace, she barely noticed Christine dusting off bookshelves while she passed to the stairs leading up. Rusty, her beagle lumbered up and began to sniff and rear up to lick her, and she welcomed his impartial greetings and kisses. She fingered his warm soft floppy ears and picked him up to hug him close as if he were the only source of comfort right now.

"Miss Bryce, I didn't see you come in..." Christine asked.

"Oh, hi Christine, I was distracted' she said, putting Rusty down. He continued to scamper after the two women as they walked further into the sitting room.

"Everything ok?" Christine asked, noticing the redness in the other women's eyes.

"Oh god,' she breathed deeply. "I just lost my job..."

"Oh no!" Christine shook her head. "I'm sorry... are you okay?"

"No," Julia sniffed, unable to hold back the tears that seeped from her dark blue eyes. "I THOUGHT I was, but I'm just..."

"C'mon in and let me get you something to drink... just sit down here..." Christine offered, walking her over to the sofa, and sitting her down. "Water, diet coke..."

"Just water," Julia stammered. "Oh shit... I promised myself I wouldn't come apart but I just... those people FIRING me without a notice?"

"Here you go," Christine said, offering her a glass of water. "Ice cold, just like you like it... tell me what happened..."

Again, she recited the past events, leaving little out. The numbness was broken, and her resolve crumpled into a mass of broken sentences, intermittent with sobs. Christine sat next to her; patting her shoulder and giving her hand the occasional encouraging squeeze. For once, she was glad Paul wasn't there, because she would feel very uncomfortable admitting to him she had lost her job. He would probably give her his shoulder to cry on with sweet words of encouragement, but there was something about having a woman to relate things to that she was thankful for. It was that need her not to take care of things as Paul would do, but simply listen and relate to her predicament.

"Damn," Christine shook her head. "I'm so sorry chic... so you figured out what you're going to do yet?"

"Eat a LOT of ice cream and lock myself in the bathroom for a hot shower," she sighed.

"Sounds like a good idea. Or else, would you like to take a swim? That pool in the backyard's begging for someone to use it."

"I couldn't..."

"Why not?"

"Uh well..."

"Nonsense, I saw that lovely two piece suit you got earlier this week. I think it would work GREAT. And you live her too, so why not?" Christine nudged her. "Besides, it's a great way to work off some steam..."

Glancing left and right, she stepped up to the edge of the rippling blue water. She let the sarong drop to her ankles and reached down to toss it onto the nearest chair by the towel she had brought with her. The bikini was modest, yet French cut, showing just below her navel and covering a good portion of her generous breasts. She had made sure to shave clean, and welcomed the opportunity to get some sun on her pale body. It displayed the small rose tattoo on her outside thigh, with the flames intertwined with it, not to mention the half belt across the small of her back with consisted of Celtic knots intertwined with a five pointed star.

Julia raised her arms above her head and pushed off with her feet. Automatically she tipped into a perfect dive, slicing into the cool surface with only a minor splash. Cool waters received her and she swam to the opposite end of the pool with even strokes. Surfacing, she shook the loose hairs from her face, glad she had pinned her long locks back into a ponytail. She set into an even pace and started her next lap, pushing off from the wall easily.

When she next surfaced, she gasped when she saw him standing on the side of the pool, still fully dressed. A large grin spread across his face, and he savored her stunned expression.

"Why look, it's Ariel!" he chuckled.

"Uh, Paul... you're back..." she gasped.

"And not a damn moment too soon" he added, and gave forth a mighty sneeze.

"Bless you!" she exclaimed, and sank under the water so it was up to her neck. That nervousness at him seeing her in her swimsuit seemed instinctive, not because she was worried about him seeing something he shouldn't, but because she was ashamed of what he'd see, that it would not measure up to his angelic blonde standards. He noticed her slipping down into the water, and backed away a few steps.

"I can get you a towel, if you like" he says, "Might come in handy."

"That would be... appreciated," she chuckled. "But no hurry..."

"Christine and the dogs treat you alright when I was gone?" he smiled. He walked over to grab the towel draped over the pool chair, and put his hand to his head shortly as he turned away. She heard another sneeze, and he draped the towel over his arm and stopped momentarily.

Rising out of the water a bit, she asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, basically. I think I picked up something somewhere between the 3 hours I LOST in the commute and the 3 hours I GAINED. Not to mention a typical New York winter," he sighed, holding up the towel for her to step into. "I've been feeling like shi...errr...terrible since about 6:00 last night."

"Oh man," she laughed. "Jet lag."

"And a crappy cold on top of that to boot," he nodded.

"We did have a good time in spite of all my complaints..."

"Maybe I could make you some chicken soup?" she said, slipping down into the pool again. "And some hot green tea?"

"Jul, you don't have to do that. Look, I can call Christine right now and have her make us something warm."

"What's the fun in that?" she asked.

"It's NOT a big deal. She always cooks for me when I get home," he insisted.

"You haven't LIVED till you've had my granma's soup," she protested. "Gramma Bryce's special recipe for sick people."

"I just.... I don't want to make you feel like you have to.... That I EXPECT you to... that's all."

"You've done so much for me," she said, tracing her finger along the edge of the pool, still shivering. Still she was submerged to her chest in the pool.

"First off, you need to get yourself out and get warm. And....if you really feel the need to show me your skills, I'm...game," Paul sighed, holding the towel out to her again. "Just let me run upstairs and throw my crap on the bed for a moment...check messages, that sort of thing."

"Thank you," she laughed. He winked at her, partly blocking his view of her with the towel. She climbed up the ladder toward him. He wrapped the towel snuggly around her, as he leaned down and kissed her cheek lightly.

"It's good to be home temporary as it may be. Throw all my clothes in the laundry, whether they're clean or dirty," he chuckled. "Christine LOVES that."

She laughed nervously, wondering if he got a look at her while she was swimming? She suspected he had been watching her silently for a few minutes till she noticed he was there. However daunting it seemed, she was flattered someone was admiring her, possibly. But was he really?

"Thanks for the towel," she said.

"You're welcome to upstairs with me if you want" he smiles, "Help me unpack, get dressed, that sort of thing."

"Help you get DRESSED?" she laughed lightly, trying to conceal the continued nervousness.

"If I can be a total cad, you look mighty nice in my pool."

"How long have you been standing there?"

"A bit, why?" he grinned confidently.

"Oh nothing," she said shyly. "I've never been one for two piece bathing suits till recently... I was half-afraid this would fall off me. It was Christine's idea..."

"Well, you look...never mind..." he smiled sheepishly as he rubbed her back teasingly. "I probably should just keep quiet and leave my gentleman reputation intact. Besides, before you distracted you, I was GOING to tell you I brought you something back."

"What?" she asked.

"It's in the suitcase upstairs." He says as he led her toward the door. "I had to rescue it from hoards of crazy KISS fans."

She looked at him in wonder, narrowing her eyes at him. She wrapped the towel around herself like a toga and followed him. Taking her hand, he tugged her to keep up with his long stride. Paul laughed, "Now, don't get TOO excited. It's nothing MUCH..."

"How do I look?" she asked with a soft voice.

"You look gorgeous, Julia" he said quietly.

"Aww, thank you," she whispered back.

"Don't be ashamed of your body, baby," Paul said sincerely. "You have NOTHING to worry about. And anyone who would make you see otherwise is full of crap. Don't let them take that away from you."

"I know," she nodded slowly, growing quiet. They entered the sitting room, neatly cleaned and arranged for his return. Little did he know that Christine had not done it alone, but taken advantage of Julia's insisted assistance. His eyes fell on the roses set in a crystal vase on the coffee table.

As he walked, he chattered excitedly to change the subject, "Christine's supposed to arrange to have someone clean the carpets next week, so don't be too surprised if they come, maybe Monday or Tuesday."

"I guess I'll be here," she muttered.

"And Doc is supposed to have someone drop off the prototype for my new guitar line. You can just take them up to the music room, if you don't mind, babe..."

He stopped talking for a moment, suddenly realizing what she had just said. Taking her hand he emphasized, "I'm HOPING you'll be here."

"No Paul, I mean... I... lost my job!" she blurted out.

"Because, DAMN, it was nice to come home to a house not empty, and....uh...what? Lost it HOW? What happened?" he asked, eyes wide with shock.

"I got a pink slip,' she sighed, sitting down on the sofa, then rising quickly. After all, the dampness from her swimsuit and wet body had already soaked through the improvised towel toga.

"Just like that? Gone?" he asked in sympathy.

"They said it was cutbacks... but my co workers smelled a rat."

"Curious timing, wouldn't you say?" he observed, patting the sofa for her to sit down again.

"I'll get it wet," she protested.

"I'm not worried about that," he said, dark eyes staring right into hers. Sighing, she sat down next to him.

"It was a shock, this Friday afternoon," she explained.

"Most of the week it was the usual. Dr. Marisol, the surgeon I work under gave me notice, but she gave me a referral for a colleague who might need my help... I called, but there are no job openings there... I'll be posting my resume online... if I can get a computer."

"Well.... You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you," she said with a sigh.

"And Hon, you KNOW something better will come along," Paul said, taking her hand and patting it gently. "Besides, in a few months, they'll probably be BEGGING you to reapply."

"I have a bad feeling someone got me fired..." she muttered. "I just... call it a gut feeling. Dr. Marisol said she tried to fight to keep me but the decision came from further up."

"I can look into it if you want me to." he offered, as he leaned over to the end table to grab a tissue right before he sneezed again. "Because I tend to agree with you."

"Why don't I make you some tea first?" Julia asked, rising from the sofa.

"Wait, Julia, you don't have to...." he protested weakly as he watched her leave. He couldn't help but admire how strong willed and stubborn she could be despite her softness and meek demeanor. There was definitely fire underneath he had not accounted for, and he was glad to see Chad had not snuffed it out entirely. Relaxing on the sofa, he waited for her for a few minutes. Paul propped his feet up on the hassock and rubbed his scalp.

In Paul's generous kitchen she put the kettle on, and found the loose teas in tins. The microwave hummed as it defrosted the chicken extracted from the fridge. Chicken bullion bubbled in water near the teakettle, merrily. Julia waited and chopped carrots and celery on the carving block in the center island. Over the past week she had familiarized herself with the contents of the kitchen, and knew her way around it almost as well as Christine.

Paul stood at the door, watching her cook. Still she wore the improvised toga, and he hid a grin of amusement. It touched him to see her so focussed on her task, all to make sure he had whatever he needed. HE would have to make sure she wanted for nothing while she was unemployed, so he reached into his pocket and extracted his wallet. Folding out some bills, he approached her with the money in his hand.

"This is probably going to make you very mad, but here. Please take this for now," he said, putting his arm around her from behind.

"Do we have any parsley?" she asked, seemingly unaware of the money in his hand.

"Most likely, but you're asking the wrong guy," he smiled. Taking the money, he tossed it onto the kitchen counter while she fished out the parsley and added it to the soup with the vegetables and the chicken.

"IT will be about 15 minutes... ah, the Teapot's ready..." she said. "And I use the loose tea with a strainer..."

"I know what you're thinking, but you can't go from a decent wage to nothing," he cleared his throat, pointing to the money. Still not glancing over at him, she placed the silver tea strainer over the mouth of the teapot and filled it with boiling water from the copper-bottomed kettle.

"And... I have it, so, I want to share," Paul continued, dodging before her when she took a tray with two mugs and the teapot to set it on the kitchen table.

He reached up to scratch his head, frustrated. Taking a deep breath he took her arm, "And I'd really appreciate at least an ACKNOWLEDGEMENT, even if it's Paul, go to hell."

She sighed, and sat down on one of the chairs at the table. Putting her head in her hand, she looked up at him with an unreadable expression. Slowly she said, "I don't need the money..."

"Julia, it's not like it's forever. It's just for now until you find something better," he said. "This way, I know you have a place to stay and some spending money if you need something."

"Aww shit," she sighed, feeling tears come to her eyes. She brushed them away, hiding them from Paul.

"And believe me, I won't miss it" he chuckled. "You're actually doing me a favor... $600.... It's what's left from my trip."

The towel becomes unhitched and fell to the floor. She put her head on her hands, on the table, still crying. Surprise filled Paul's face as he saw her crying, and he began to pace back and forth nervously. He tried humor to lighten her mood, saying, "Now I won't have to send my assistant to the bank. Don't cry baby... it's not a problem..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, lifting her head. "I'm just not used to someone handing me that kind of money."

"That's where we differ...it's not a big deal to me," he said quickly, then realized that may have sounded insensitive.

"That's the problem," she sighed.

"What I MEANT to say is I won't miss it" he sighed in frustration, glancing up at the ceiling.

"I hardly know you," she said slowly.

"No, that's true," he agreed. "But you make me feel like I'm doing something nice for someone." "And like I said before, I hate like hell to come home to an empty house."

"You can understand my point of view right?" she asked, blue eyes fixed into his. "Rich guy takes woman in, and she loses her job, and he's giving her money... I KNOW you won't take advantage... and yet..."

"Hey now...wait...just WAIT!" he says, anger picking up in his voice. "So, you're accusing me of WHAT? Treating you like some kind of call girl?"

"No, I'm NOT!" she cried, slamming her hand down on the table.

"Then WHAT?" he threw up his hands in exasperation. "I'm trying to HELP you goddamn it! And this is the thanks I get? I'm NOT expecting anything! Why won't you believe me?"

"I'm sorry I just..." she sobbed, hand over her face.

"Julia! When have I EVER implied that I expect sex out of this arrangement? When?" he demanded.

"Now WAIT a minute," she held up her hand. "Just stop RIGHT there..."

"I would just never EXPECT it!" he added, turning away as he paced angrily.

"Let's just STOP before we say anything else... we'll regret!" she interrupted. "Paul, just LISTEN to me! I know you're only trying to help me. And I misunderstood... can we start over?"

"I never expected a price for staying here," he said. He shut his eyes in frustration.

"Please Paul, humor me..." she said, wiping away her tears. "I see that now. The last thing I wanted was for you and I to argue."

"Okay, if this bothers you this much, you can be my dog sitter and I'll pay you. Here. Your first paycheck." he handed her the money. For a moment, she looked at the folded wad of cash, and Paul's frustrated dark look. He was genuinely trying to help her, and it was as if she had insulted him by refusing.

"All right then," she said. "Thank you very much Paul... this will help me a lot..."

"When you need more.... You let me know," he said, wagging a finger.

"I will," she nodded. "And again... I'm sorry for misunderstanding your intentions. You're just being a good friend... and I was too stubborn to admit it."

"Just shocked me, that's all," he said, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her. "Any other friend would have taken the money. And you're NOT the first friend I've loaned money to... or helped in need.

"I've just been... used in the past," she said slowly. "I've never offered sex for money, but Chad... he... would expect something in return if I needed to borrow it... it wasn't sex, but he never just gave for nothing..."

"I know that, Hon," he says, softening his dark stare. "I just frankly like having you around. Having someone home when I get back."

"Then why don't you help me eat some of this soup... and let me know if it's okay...?" she asked, getting up and checking it.

"Sounds delicious," he said, trying to appear platonic when she put the soup pot and basket of saltines on the table with two place settings.

Julia turned back to him, and then leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. Her arms passed around his neck and she hugged him from behind. Whispering in his ear she said, and please, don't take anything what I said so seriously. I'm just going through some crazy shit right now."

Paul rose from his chair and took her in his arms. They embraced tightly, and she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his cologne. He hummed in enjoyment for a moment, rocking against her.

"Jul, there are things to talk about, you and I, but I don't think now is the time."

"I know," she whispered.

"What's important is that you get some downtime...and that I get some of this soup."

"Sometimes it's so nice to be just held..." she sighed, not letting go. "And have someone GLAD to see me."

He hugged her tightly, shutting his eyes for a moment to savor it. Finally they released each other, and he pulled out her chair for her to be seated. Taking the place cattycorner he said, "You would have loved this restaurant Gene and I went to."

"Please tell me about it..." she said, ladling some soup for him.

"Little Greek place.... Probably 3 generations of family working there, and maybe 1 guy who speaks good English," he smiled, sampling her soup. "God, this hits the spot"

"I knew it," she laughed.

"And so of COURSE, Gene, being Gene, has to order something off the menu specially prepared," he continued, putting away spoonfuls of the soup as he related his story.

"That sounds like him," she laughed.

"Garlic.... Interesting...." he winked.

"It's good for a cold," she told him.

"So the damn owner comes over, because the waiter doesn't understand, and this guy is probably 80. He doesn't give a DAMN who Gene Simmons is."

"I guess they didn't hear of KISS in his generation?" she laughed.

"Well, Gene's being kind of dramatic anyway, trying to tell them how he wants his gyro meat prepared, and this owner just about flipped his lid."

"OH NO!" she groaned with a grin, picturing the scene perfectly in her mind.

"Yeah, Gene's getting loud and this guy starts getting loud, only we're at a disadvantage because this guy OWNS the place," he chuckled.

"Did you get kicked out? And did he say 'no soup for you!'?" she giggled.

"Not quite the soup nazi," He laughed at her reference. "I'm not sure exactly what he said. He started cursing in Greek, then went behind the counter and brought Gene his meal. I still have no idea if its what he wanted or not, but Gene ate it."

By this time she was laughing so hard, she held her sides. Paul welcomed the sight of this silent sad beauty finally letting her hair down, and continued, "And later we had a few minutes, so we walked by some of the old haunts... our loft, my first apartment, my old employer."

"Yellow cab?" she asked.

"Yep. Seems like another world sometimes."

"Now you know what it's like for me being here," she said, finishing her soup. "It's a different world. The world Chad wants on a silver platter..."

"So what you're saying is the gated community world isn't for you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or maybe it IS and you just haven't realized it yet."

"No Paul that's not what I'm saying. Please don't put words into my mouth," she sighed in frustration. "I was saying, that I wasn't USED to it here."

"Sorry," he apologized, and ladled another bowlful of soup.

"Not that I didn't LIKE it," she further clarified. "Believe me I WISH I could live like this. And do it in an honest way, not like Chad would... He would wheel and deal and not care whose toes he stepped on."

"There are probably people who do what you do that live back here. Granted, most have rich husbands, but...." he began, but stopped himself. "Damn, never mind."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Paul ignored her question and continued, "And in all practicality, there are plenty of doctor's back here. Your next employer could be right under your nose."

"Well I COULD find a good job in Beverly Hills..." she said, letting him get away this time. "Or work as someone's private duty nurse...

"There are plenty of them, you know," he said. "Plastic surgeons and jobs that is..."

"I think I've been looking in the wrong places..." she laughed. "AND plenty of old rich people too who need facelifts and tummy tucks... I could work full time for Joan Rivers... Giving her the odd skin stretch..."

"Yeah, that too." he reflected, sadness passing over his face.

She stopped and crushed another handful of crackers into her soup. Paul returned to his, eating steadily. Clearing her throat, she said, "Or I could work for a children's hospital... for people who need plastic reconstructive surgery. Be more rewarding..."

"I have some friends at AboutFace who just might have connections," he offered. ".... Should you want to go that route."

"Now THAT would be a job worth having," she smiled. Her face lit up at the mention and thought of children.

"I'll call Ann tomorrow and ask her who she knows... assuming you won't get mad at me."

"No,' she laughed. "I'm sorry I'm such a jerk about accepting help Paul..."

"You're forgiven for now,' he winked. "There's quite an exclusive hospital not far from here. I can see what I can dig up. You'll need to buy yourself a new outfit if you interview, you know."

"I have the money," she laughed. "Unless you have Christine take me on a shopping spree..."

"But then I'll need to replace what you spent" he laughed. "Christine LOVES shopping sprees."

"I can use money for my car payment," she said shyly. "That six hundred will just about cover car insurance and my monthly leas payment."

"Who's your loan through? I'll have my assistant Michelle send some money tomorrow."

"Citizen's bank..."

"I'll take care of it. Your name or Chad's?"

"Mine," she said. "Thank God for that piece of reasoning. The apartment was in both our names..."

"I'll call her. She'll love you," he nodded, then finally finished the last drop of his soup.

"Want any more?" she asked.

"No thank you. I was just thinking you should buy yourself some nightwear too. Christine says you don't have anything decent to wear to bed."

"He trashed my bedclothes," she sighed. "Remember? He sliced those to ribbons..."

"All the more reason to get new ones. And I appreciate the offer, love... errr... JULIA, but if I don't get some sleep soon, I think I'm going to start drooling."

She noticed the slip, but didn't say anything. He continued matter-of-factly, "Besides... a woman ought to have nice things to wear to bed."

"True," she nodded. "As long as it's in the right size. Victoria secret doesn't always carry my measurements..."

"Of course, and you feel good in, "Paul added, turning a bit red. "That didn't come out right, did it?"

She giggled, "It's okay Paul. You look cute when you blush."

"I didn't mean that I was going to FEEL you in it... arrrrrgghhh... never mind," he chuckled at himself.

"It's nice," she said. "Having a man liking how I look... for a change... instead of criticizing me."

He chuckled at her and blushes further, "I'm not easily embarrassed, you know."

"Paul Stanley doesn't' get embarrassed at anything," she teased. "Not after Animalized uncensored!"

"And if I may indulge, I think you look beautiful. For the record."

"Keep stroking my ego and I'll be forced to retaliate," she teased with a smile.

"Actually, there WERE a few shows that mom and dad came to, and frankly, it IS embarrassing going on about women going down on you with mom and dad in the first few rows."

"Oh NO!" she laughed and threw a piece of ice from her water glass at him.

"Despite all my slick composure, there is a part of me that's still a momma's boy," he laughed back. Smiling at her and retaliated with some ice of his own. He laughed as it slid down her swimsuit. She shrieked and threw more ice at him.

Swigging a big drink of water and threatens to spit it at her. He swallowed it with a chuckle and looked at her in amusement.

"Sooo, what will you get? For bed. What will you get?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow, emboldened by her laughter.

"A few nice long silk gowns... And maybe a few of those lacey pajamas... with the shorts..."

"Long?" he teased.

"Low cut," she winked. "Very THIN straps."

"That's better," he smiled.

"And I suppose in California you guys sleep in boxers or nothing at all?" she winked. He reddened again and pouted a bit.

"You really want to know?"

"Uh huh," she challenged him.

"I sleep in whatever my lady wants me to." he winked.

"Oh SMOOTH," she laughed.

"You liked that, huh?" he laughed loudly. "Fifty years of practice."

"Yes," she giggled. "I wouldn't' know it. The fifty, uh I mean... oh shit that came out wrong..."

He chortled, "Not taken the wrong way, I assure you. It's actually a little dangerous sleeping in California in the raw. One good earthquake and you're running around nude on your front lawn..."

"With a camera behind every bush?" she gasped between laughs.

"With my luck, yes."

"Wouldn't THAT be a good video trade for an avid fan?"

"Really? I actually can't stand wearing clothes to bed!" he eyed her directly, enjoying the flirtation.

"So you're into simple pleasures, sir?" she flirted back.

"Pleasures, yes. Mmmmmmmn, yes."

"You sounded like Homer Simpson just then," she laughed. "Mmmm Donuts!"

He grinned at her, "Ohhh, now THAT'S nice! Homer's OK... but they ARE dragging it out..."

"I'm surprised you were never a guest star," she joked.

"I'll have Christine organize a trip tomorrow, when she gets a chance. I'll even sweeten the pot and give her a little something for herself."

"I can't go tomorrow, remember?" she reminded him. "I have an... Appointment..."

"Oh.... OK.... Well, then... Monday, maybe?"

"That would be perfect..."

"I mean, if you won't sleep in the nude for me, the LEAST I can do is buy you some nice nighties." He stopped for a moment, wondering if he was pushing it.

"How do you know I don't sleep in the nude?" she winked, putting her bowl and plates into the sink.

He turned around to look at her, then shuts his eyes for a moment, "You have NO idea how hard it is for me to walk away from that challenge. But you win that round, love. I'd best not touch that with a ten-foot pole. Or I'll be out on the street on my ear."

"Such a nice ear," she clicked her tongue.

"And my doghouse is really uncomfortable," he added, handing his bowl to her to stack with the other dishes in the dishwasher.

"I wouldn't DREAM of throwing you out of your OWN house," she chuckled.

"Trust me, I took up residence there when I was married."

"But I thought that you lived in Red Fox's mansion," she challenged him.

"Well, then.... I wouldn't dream of finding out if you sleep in the nude.... Unless... of course, you want me to find out some day," he smiled sweetly at her.

"That is sweet of you..." she blushed.

"We did... and she kicked me out, so here I am."

"She's an idiot," she said quickly. "But it's not for me to say..."

"Oh no, she's perfect. I'm the one that's a self centered, egotistical, sex fiend bastard...at least according to her."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "It takes 2 to tango... I bet she had her flaws too..."

"I should know, being the woman who got out of a doomed relationship."

"She did, only SHE'D say her only flaw was me."

"That's what Chad said about me..." she reflected. "I was moody, bitchy, self centered and spoiled. And that I was LUCKY to have a man like him in my life."

"Jul....I don't want to hurt you, but you ought to know that Chad's been saying those things about you for awhile, and to anyone who would listen," Paul said softly, placing the cups into the top rack.

"Shit, probably why I got fired," she rolled her eyes.

"I mean, EVERYONE knows Chad has a 'bitchy' girlfriend... even people you've never met. Even I had heard how awful you are."

"And you took me in anyway?" she asked slowly.

"It just goes to show you how heartless people can be," he said, turning around to take her hand. "I guess it just sort of got to me, seeing him all over his pin-up girl and you running away. I knew right then that all the crap he was saying about you was a sack of lies."

"Did you KNOW we were together?" she asked, pulling her hand away in momentary panic. "Did he talk to you and GENE about me?"

"He.... He mentioned you. I'd never put two and two together until that night...until I found out that you were the girl he's always badmouthing.

"Did you see me when I first came in?" she asked. "Walking behind him to keep up?"

He sighed a bit, "Yeah, I did. And the next thing I knew, I got caught up in the party, and you were gone."

"I was trying to find him, in between talking to Shannon, Molly, Cheryl and others..."

"Julia, you're an angel. Just do me a favor and don't get mixed up with another Chad again," he said, taking her arms in his hands and sliding them down to grasp her waist firmly yet reassuringly. "Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try not to," she said.

"Just make sure the next guy gives a damn about you."

"Like you do," she almost doesn't say. "I mean like a man SHOULD treat me..."

He looked at her for a moment with dark serious eyes, "Yes, like I do."

The moment was broken by a sneeze, and Julia shook her head, "You'd better try some vitamin C..."

"Good idea," he muttered, beginning to feel himself getting excited. Leaning down he kissed her forehead.

"I think I have some in my things... in the bathroom..."

"I'd better head on up to bed before I either say something stupid or get you sick too. Thank you for the soup," he whispered.

"You didn't say ANYTHING Stupid," she corrected him.

"No, but I'm about to," he smiled sadly.

"Good night, sweetheart," She said, kissing his cheek.

"Clean towels.... Well, you know where they are."

"Thank you," she whispered. He leaned down to kiss hers back. His crotch accidentally bumps her a bit and he winced. He tried hard to avoid his excitement from being too evident. However she noticed, but did not let him realize it.

To cover his embarrassment he backed away and said, "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," she nodded, following him out of the kitchen. She didn't even realize she no longer wore her towel, but stood in only her bathing suit, fully comfortable in his gaze.

He smiled at her, pausing for just a moment, wishing he had the courage to invite her to his bed. Tossing that thought from his mind, he headed toward the stairs. She noticed the seriousness in his eyes, and blew him a kiss.

"Night," he muttered.

"Good night Paul, sleep well," she said. "And welcome home."

"Yeah, right," he muttered to himself as he walked away.

Torn between asking him what's wrong, and letting him go, she flopped down onto the kitchen chair. Something occurred to her, and the realization of what it might be choked her up. It was then she noticed she was only clad in the two piece suit, and she flushed hot with fear and anxiety.

He had done nothing but simply be sweet to her, not offering any comments except for sincere compliments. Kindness and tenderness seemed strange and alien to her aching heart.

Next morning, Paul awakened to the sound of Christine making breakfast. Yawning, he pulled his robe around himself and sat down to see her refilling the coffee machine. He asked, "so, where's sleepyhead?"

"You mean Julia? Didn't you see there was an envelope I found on the table with your name? I put it by your plate..."

"A WHAT?" Paul asked, his heart pounding. He seized the envelope and tore it open, extracting the letter inside with shaky hands. Quickly he scanned it, with mingled relief and worry:

Dear Paul

My appointment was changed for today, and I apologize. I have to attend to some business, and I won't be back till Sunday afternoon. Don't worry, it's nothing you've done, it's something that I have a responsibility to take care of.

I'll hope to see you Sunday. Enjoy your day, and I'll see you soon.

Sincerely,

Julia.

"At least she's not saying she isn't' staying here anymore," he muttered, holding out his mug for Christine to pour him some coffee.

"I guess from your expression she won't be joining you today?"

"No," he sighed. "I need to cancel the dinner reservations... shit..."

"Why don't you spend time with your son?" asked Christine. "Make a day of it?"

"You know what, you're right," he nodded. "I think the monkey boy would love a visit from dear old dad... can you get me the phone? I have a call to make..."

Over crepes slathered in strawberry jelly, Paul dialed his ex wife's number, and heard her cool but polite reply, "Hello?"

"Hi, It's Paul. Would it be all right if I took Evan to the park today?"

"Yes, but make SURE you bring him home at the appointed time," came Pam's reply. "And no KISS events last minute..."

"Yeah h... I mean yeah of course," he nodded. "It's just such a nice day... I figured it would be great to take him to the museum and the park..."

"All right. I'll have him ready by eleven to go. Will he be spending the night?"

"Yeah," Paul nodded. "I've got his room ready..."

"That's something," she replied. "I'll have him ready. See you soon..."

"Thanks, goodbye," Paul said, hanging the phone up with a sigh. Things had gotten better between the two, but it was still difficult to speak to her on the phone without the old feelings welling up.

He finished his breakfast in silence, brooding over what appointment Julia could have that would warrant her suddenly taking off. Whatever it was, it was part of her private life, and if she really needed to let him know, she would. Paul consoled himself with that, and decided to focus his energies on his son today.

It didn't take him too long to get ready for his big day with his son. He had made the necessary arrangements when he finally drove over to his old home to pick him up. Every time he drove over to the Mediterranean villa that was once his home too, he suppressed the lump in his throat. Pam had made some considerable changes, putting her own touches on the place in terms of landscaping. He met her at the front door, and his son was all packed and ready to go in efficient manner.

"Daddy!" he cried, as Paul swung him up. "Are we going to the park?"

"Wait on there monkey boy," Paul laughed, giving him a kiss and setting him down. "That's after lunch! I thought we could go get a bite first, at your favorite place, and then we'll go get busy!"

"Great!" he smiled, taking Paul's hand as Paul picked up his son's suitcase, a Power Rangers overnight zip up. His son shouldered his small backpack and trotted to keep up with his father's long stride as they waved goodbye.

"See you Sunday," Paul called to her as she watched them climb into the car, and pull away. Satisfied they were gone; she closed the front door.

His spirits lifted as soon as he left the gated community, and pulled onto the main streets of Beverly Hills. There was a nice public park they passed on the way to Evan's favorite restaurant, and he pointed excitedly to the parents already taking their kids for an afternoon excursion.

Lunch was fun, at the Rainforest Cafe, with lights and sounds. Then came a visit to the toy store and a fast spin to the children's museum. It wasn't till four when they returned to the park with a Frisbee and other park items, and Paul pulled his Mercedes into the parking lot.

"Lemmie show you how far I can throw Dad!" he said excitedly, taking the Frisbee in place of his Gameboy, much to Paul's thanks. As much as he didn't mind Evan playing Gameboy, it was nice to see him get just as excited at the prospect of a good throwback like Frisbee.

"Not if I can throw further! And I still have to catch it!' he laughed, ruffling his son's blond curls, which were cut short since their last meeting. They reached the large lawn of mown greenery that served as a field for people throwing catch, or playing volleyball on the sandy pits nearby.

A playground area was set up about one hundred yards away, with park benches for the moms and dads to sit. Evan's attempts were received enthusiastically by Paul, who caught the latest throw landing backward in the grass.

"Sorry daddy!"

"You've got QUITE an arm there!" he laughed. "See if you can get THIS one!"

Paul threw a mean curve on his latest throw, and Evan rushed backwards, his arms upheld as he cried, "I GOT IT I GOT IT!"

The disc sailed over his head and he went to chase it as it sailed among the constellations of bright jungle gyms and swings. Paul laughed and watched his son racing to retrieve the neon green Frisbee.

It landed by a little girl with platinum blonde hair, in red corduroy overalls with an Osh Kosh label, her striped shirt coordinating well with the garments. She jumped off the merry go round and picked it up with a curious look on her young face. Evan reached her side, and she looked up at him, holding the disc. She was a pretty little thing, he thought, and his daddy had always told him to be respectful to girls of any age. She was no exception, and she was cute for a four-year-old. In a way, she reminded him of his cousins on his mom's side, or pictures of his mommy when she was little.

"HI, that's mine,' he said politely. The girl looked up at him with big blue eyes and clutched the Frisbee.

"Your frizz?" she asked, shyly.

"Yep it's mine," he smiled. "Daddy threw it WAAAY too far... and if I don't give it back..."

"It's PRETTY!" the girl said, clutching it. Then in the polite way of a girl just out of her terrible twos, she held it out to him.

"Thanks!" he smiled, taking it. "You wanna play?"

"Mommy said I play on the swings," she said. "But I can't push... you help me?"

"I can push you," Evan offered. "But where IS your mommy first?"

"There's mommy!" she pointed to a pretty woman sitting on a park bench, talking to another lady with twins. "She's over there!"

"Great... but you can't talk to strangers, right?" Evan asked.

"No," the girl nodded. "I'm CHARLENE! And I'm FOUR!"

"I'm Evan and I'm eight," he said. "There, we're not strangers. Want help?"

"Yeah!" she smiled, running to the swings. Evan took her hand, led her over, and helped her up onto one of them.

"You want a SMALL push or a big one?" he asked, positioning him behind her.

"I want an UNDERDOG push!" she cheered. "WAY HIGH!"

"Okay, hold on!" he said, grabbing the chains and running back at full force. Still clutching them he shoved forwards and let go at the last minute. Squealing with delight Charlene swung back. Evan dashed back to push from behind again so she could maintain her momentum.

"Char!" Julia cried, noticing her daughter was gone. She rushed over and saw her pumping her little legs off as she swung higher and higher. Not only that, but a handsome young boy with curly blond hair and brown eyes was helping to push her, having the time of his life.

"Mommy!" she cried. "Look how high!"

She reached Evan's side, and said, "You're a helpful young man..."

"You're Charlene's mommy, right?" he asked.

"I am, and I'm so glad such a nice young man like you is being so nice to her..."

"Daddy tells me to be nice to girls," Evan shrugged sweetly. "Oh man, he'll be worried SICK! I'm supposed to be playing CATCH with him..."

"Well why don't you go back to your daddy and let him know you're okay?" she laughed, and then suddenly realized he looked AWFULLY familiar.

"What did you say your name was?" she asked.

"Evan Shane Stanley," he said. "My daddy's a musician..."

"OH man," she gasped, almost loosing her control.

"You all right Miss?" he asked. "You're looking kinda scared..."

"Uh, why don't you go back to your daddy, I'm sure he's worried sick about you," she said, trying to maintain her composure as she caught Charlene's swing.

"Mommy, look how HIGH I can go! Evan helped me!" she cried.

"Yes he did, but we have to go now..." she said.

"Aww mom!" she cried.

"Say goodbye to the nice young man, Char," she said, taking Charlene over her hip.

"G'bye Evan," she said, blowing him a kiss.

"G'bye," he smiled, waving as he moved back to join Paul, who was approaching the playground. Carrying Charlene, Julia grabbed her bag from the park bench and rushed in the direction of the parking lot. Leaving a very puzzled Evan, wondering WHY she was so scared.

Paul came to stand next to Evan, asking, "where were you! I was worried!"

"I was helping a nice girl with the swings," he shrugged. "Then her mommy came and got her..."

"What girl?" Paul asked.

"Her name was Charlene... and there they are..." he pointed to the lady as she walked to her car and put the girl into the booster seat.

"Really?" Paul asked, narrowing his eyes.

"She got all scared when I told her my name... why is that, Daddy?" he asked.

"Sometimes people are scared when they meet the kids of celebrities," Paul said quickly. "But you say you pushed her daughter on the swings?"

"Yeah. That girl was her child," Evan said innocently. "Did I do something wrong daddy?"

"No way," Paul said, rustling Evan's hair.

"Do you know that lady Daddy?" he asked as the car pulled away, and Paul watched.

"Yeah, she's a friend," he said. "A very good friend..."

"Why didn't I meet her before?" Evan asked as Paul lead him over to where their things were.

"I only just met her a week ago, son," Paul explained. "Anyway, it's time we thought about getting back home for dinner. Want Chinese, pizza, or some of Miss Christine's spaghetti?"

"Chinese would be cool," Evan decided. Still he wondered what had just happened.

Paul sighed to himself as he drove home. More questions then answers had arisen today and it dawned on him why she had been so elusive. Why hide a daughter from him, he wondered. It didn't make sense. After all, why hide a child from someone you're living with? Unless she didn't have custody of the child except on weekends. He prayed to god it wasn't Chad's little girl. Reasoning in his brain, he tried to remember just how long she said she had been with Chad.

"How old was that girl?" he asked Evan.

"She was four daddy," he said. "Why?"

"OH, just curious," he said. "Julia never told me how old she was..."

"That's weird," Evan said.

"Well I never met her daughter till I saw her with you," he admitted.

"Funny, most mommies who have kids show you pictures," Evan shrugged. "Maybe Miss Julia's divorced like you and mommy, and she can't had Charlene every day..."

"Maybe," Paul guessed. "But it's not our business... so can we drop it for now, Evan?"

"Sure," Evan muttered, knowing what that dark look in his father's eyes meant. Whenever a subject was brought up and Paul produced that look, Evan knew from experience it was his father's way of saying the matter was closed till further notice.

Julia pulled up behind Paul's Porsche on Sunday afternoon, and saw that the front door was open. She moved to investigate, to see Paul standing behind it, a look on his face that bothered her.

"There you are, I was worried...' Paul said.

"Didn't you get my note?" she asked, frightened she had been discovered.

"Yeah. Are you okay? I mean is everything okay..."

"Of course, why do you ask?" she stammered.

"You said you had an appointment for Sunday," Paul said, not sure of how far he should push it. "And when it changed for Saturday, I was worried you had some medical problem or something..."

"I do, sort of," she said. "But it's okay... I just..."

"You don't have to tell me," Paul interrupted. "Just as long as you say you're okay, that's good enough for me..."

Relief spread across her face, and she put on a smile. Paul's dark eyes cleared of their momentary storm, and she realized it wasn't anything but concern for her that had caused the dark stare in the first place. He held out his arms to her, and smiled warmly, "I'm glad to see you, baby, I missed you."

She went to him and accepted his warm hug. He leaned down to kiss her forehead softly, and kept his arm around her waist to lead her into the house. Picking up her suitcase in his other hand, he guided her into the living room. Heart still pounding she noticed the fragrant bouquet of roses arranged on the kitchen table when he led her into the breakfast nook.

"I figured you'd like a snack,' he said with a warm smile. "Maybe some tea or something... I mean I was supposed to take you out to dinner yesterday..."

"Oh Paul I'm sorry I didn't..."

"Hey it's okay," Paul said. "Shit happens, and plans change. If you'd like to go out tonight instead, I made reservations..."

"Why don't you let me cook you a nice dinner here," she interrupted.

"Uh uh," he wagged a finger at her. "I want at least one opportunity to spoil you rotten, and I'm entitled to it, once in a while right?"

"But I don't want to be trouble," she stared, before Paul put a finger over her lips to silence her.

"Nothing doing. We're having a NICE dinner for two, as friends, so don't worry. My treat, and it's to celebrate you getting CHAD out of your life, okay?"

"If you say so," she sighed.

"Now why don't you go put on something nice, and comfortable, and I'll get ready too. And before you do that, have a nice cup of tea and relax... and I'll bring you that surprise I was telling you about that I brought back from my trip... wait RIGHT here..."

Paul brought what appeared to be a guitar case down from upstairs, and put it on the kitchen table. Her eyes widened as he smiled and stood next to it, the expression on his face resembling a little boy giving his mother her first present paid for by his paper route money. Cheeks wrinkling with his grin he urged, "Go on, open it..."

"What is this... what did you do?" she asked, eyes wide.

"I know you always wanted one... and since you said something about liking music, I figured you could appreciate it more then most people..."

"But..."

"Open it..." Paul whispered. "I insist..."

"I hate to think," she muttered, and opened the box. She gasped as she saw the glossy black instrument nested in velvet, a silver star on its base. Airbrushed across the front was Paul's Starchild portrait surrounded by purple. His head was tilted back a bit so you could see the downward slope of those lovely eyes peering up at you.

"Oh god I can't take this," she whispered.

"It's yours,' Paul said, lifting it out of the box and handing it to her. "Signed by all four of us... even Ace and Peter Criss..."

"Where?" she asked. Paul pointed to his signature across it, with Gene's next to his, and Ace and Peter's on the headstock.

"I can't even play this it..."

"I have another," he whispered, and put the guitar back into the case. He then closed it, and put another guitar case on the table on top of it.

"Another?"

"This one's more functional," he smiled, opening it for her, and she saw the washburn PS 2000 in simple gloss black, the same silver star on its base atop the silver reversed triangle. Placing it on her lap, he fastened the guitar strap to it, and hung it around her shoulder.

"But I can't play..."

"You can play piano and violin..." Paul smiled. "And I figured it wouldn't hurt for you to have a new hobby..."

"You are entirely too good to me," she sighed.

"And the other guitar you can get a case for, and it's to replace the missing KISS items that Chad trashed. Gene said it would be worth lots of money some day. Especially with all four signatures..."

"Oh Paul it's... its... how did you KNOW?" she gasped.

"Christine helped. She heard you playing your violin a bit in my music studio, and she said that you told her how you always wanted to play the guitar, but your parents would never let you learn because they didn't approve of it as a real instrument... so..."

"You're entirely too much," she cried, tears in her eyes.

"You don't like it... if not I can..."

"No I love it and I love..." she stammered. Paul's eyes widened, wishing she would say the next sentence he hoped was on the tip of your tongue.

"I'm glad," he whispered.

"I love how you're spoiling me rotten," she said quickly.

"OH, I'm glad,' he said, a look of momentary disappointment crossing his face. However he soon recovered and put on a nice smile, something she thought he didn't do nearly enough onstage or in the press interviews.

"I'm VERY glad," she whispered.

"I'll even throw in some free lessons,' he grinned.

"I think I owe you SOMETHING for this," she whispered.

"No money, please," he cautioned.

"I wasn't talking about THAT!" she laughed, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she stood up. Paul looked at her in momentary surprise as she straightened his lapels and rubbed his chest tenderly. Closing her eyes, she leaned up to brush her lips to his. Paul was amazed when she automatically deepened the kiss and teased his soft lips with her tongue. He moaned softly as her fingers twined in his hair and he pulled her tightly to him.

"Mm, nice," Paul whispered when she finally surfaced for air. "You don't have to stop on my account..."

He softly stroked her cheek and leaned down to kiss her, tipping her chin toward his. She held him tightly, welcoming the downward press on his lips on hers. Their hands moved and groped at each other's backs, their kiss growing more passionate and heated every second. Her hands wandered down to his backside and gently squeezed to feel how finely toned he was for a man who was 50 years old. Paul reached down and set her up on the kitchen table, so her face was level with his. His hips pressed against her knees as he leaned forwards to continued kissing her. It was so hard to restrain his passion, he reflected, when he naturally wanted to take the next step and sweep her into his arms and carry her up those stairs.

When they next parted, their eyes were locked in a passion filled gaze, chests heaving in and out with quick pants. Paul's fingers caressed her shoulder and moved downwards a bit, and her hands rubbed his chest sensually through his white button up shirt. Julia was first to break eye contact by shyly looking down at her hands on his chest.

"I guess we'd better hurry if we want to get to that fancy restaurant you probably made reservations at..." she whispered.

"Who says we're in a hurry," Paul whispered back, breathing heavily now.

"We don't want to be late... I mean... who knows how long the line is..." she stammered. Paul sensed she needed distance, and released her from his arms.

"You're right," he nodded, stepping back. "Why don't you and I run up and get ready... and I'll be waiting for you down here when you're ready..."

***

Paul trotted downstairs to find her already waiting, and she laughed lightly. Smiling a bit he asked, "What's so funny, pretty lady?"

"You're the first man I've gone to dinner with who has taken longer then me to get ready!"

She giggled.

"I don't know if that's a compliment or a crack," he nudged her as he stood next to her. "But I'll say YOU'RE worth the wait..."

"So are you," she smiled appreciatively at his black blazer, black leather pants and light blue shirt with white pinstripes he wore, with a gold chain around his throat. Black boots covered his feet, and added a bit to his height. He enjoyed how the pink short skirted dress, white cardigan and platform sandals put her height up to just below his nose. Her curls were pinned back into a French twist, a few strands handing around her attractive face. Already she was starting to tan.

"This is nice," he said, giving her the once over and a wolf whistle that made her blush. Paul reached out his hand to her, and she put hers in his lightly. He noticed her nails were painted a soft pink to match her dress, and Paul gave her fingers a light squeeze.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"Wait, it's a bit chilly this time of night in the valley. Why don't you get a coat...?" he said, leading her over to the closet and pulling one out. IT was a long wool one, black and stylish, clearly a woman's coat and he draped it over her shoulders. Then he put a blue scarf around her neck to go with it.

"What's this?" she asked.

"For you, I figured you'd need a new coat... don't worry..." he said. "I hope you won't mind..."

"It's nice, very nice," she breathed, fingering the fine soft wool as he got a leather duster coat for himself.