Disclaimer: "Beauty and the Beast" andthe character Pascal and all the rest belong to Republic Pictures. Noinfringement is intended. That and all the rest of the legal stuff.Max and her ilk belong to me. 'Nuff said.

Air You Breathe

by Kayla Rigney

The absolute quiet woke him; it often did. Outof habit, the pipemaster touched base with his world. It very late--; around two a.m. from the resonance of the pipes. The only soundfrom the line was the occasional "all’s well." Everything justfelt so right.

If someone had told Pascal even six months agothat he’d be married and sharing his life with a beautifulwoman, he wouldn’t have believed it. He still didn’t quitebelieve it. Deep down, he was afraid to believe it. Women likeMaxine Seaton did not end up with men like Benjamin Pascal; theyended up with men like Devin or Vincent Wells. But Max said ‘Ido’ and kissed him in front of everybody as though he was themost handsome man in the world.

Pascal gently smoothed Max’s hair awayfrom her face. She had fallen asleep with her head on his chest andthe rest of her sprawled more or less on top of him. He loved herweight and her scent and her steady breathing. He was drunk with thefeel of her. And unabashedly amazed that she wanted him.

Pascal held his breath and listened. "Pipes,"he laughed.

Max stirred. "What?"

He kissed the top of her head and replied,"When you breathe, you sound like the pipes."

She looked completely baffled.

Pascal raised her chin so he could fall intoher violet eyes. "You were snoring," he said, softly andlaughed.

"Oh." Max said. She nuzzled the crook of hisneck and snuggled even closer. "That’s because I’mcold."

The pipemaster tucked his thick homemade quilttight around them. He knew she wasn’t used to the constanttunnel chill and probably never would be. Pascal ran his fingersthrough her hair, thinking that it looked like liquid fire againsthis skin. She doesn’t belong here, he thought. Desertcreatures need the sun. He reminded himself that she chose tostay Below with him; she was his and she was very, veryreal.

"What time is it, Ben?" Max asked, finally. Hervoice was husky and very low.

"Late," Pascal whispered. "Go back tosleep."

Max reached up and gently ran her fingertipsacross his lips. He let himself taste the henna wedding tattoo andthe simple gold band he’d given her at the ceremony. Then,Pascal caught her wrist and brought her hand down and held it againsthis chest. He wanted her to feel how hard his heart waspounding.

"I mean it, Max," he said, doing his best tosound stern and failing miserably. "I'm exhausted."

She had a priceless look on her face --;halfway between lust and sleep. "You win," she said. "Don’t getused to it."

Pascal laughed softly. "With you, I’drather lose."

Max stretched her whole body against his,releasing years of sighs. She did not look up at him when shesang:

Must have lost my heart, Baby can’t youbring it back home?

Surely you don’t need it, ‘causeyou already got my soul.

Must have lost my heart, Somewhere out inthe cold...

"It’s safe with me, Max," he told her,very quietly. "It always will be."

Max smiled as she kissed him. Pascal couldactually taste the desire on her breath; it was so sweet.

The pipemaster was no longer tired. He wantedonly to remember this moment forever. He had so many memoriesnow…

The morning after he proposed, Pascal awoke toa feeling of complete and utter peace. When he opened his eyes, Maxwas smiling into them.

"Good morning," she said.

Pascal stretched just to feel the full lengthof his body move against hers. "Good morning," he replied. "How longhave you been awake?"

"A while."

Pascal pushed a stray curl out of her face."Why didn't you awaken me?" he asked.

"I enjoy watching you sleep," Max replied. "Youlook so innocent."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "I think not," hesaid. His body was suddenly and undeniably alive with feeling andneed and love.

"Oh, I think so," she said, laughing. Withoutlooking away, she reached over and pressed the play button on theboom box Pascal kept on the bedside table. Robert Johnson camepouring out.

Woke up this morning feeling ‘round formy shoes

I swear I got those mean ole walkin’blues.

Woke up this morning feeling ‘round formy shoes…

"Lowdown dirty blues before breakfast, Pascal?"Max asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Father would beshocked."

"We don’t have doors, Maxine," hereplied. "I doubt Father is shocked by anything anymore."

Her warm laughter cascaded over him like awave. It seemed to originate inside the music itself. "The one regretof my life is that I never learned to play a mean slide guitar," Maxsaid, her voice lowdown and extremely sexy. "I always wanted to pullthe perfect lick and say ‘walk wi’ me, now’." Sheclosed her eyes and sang the next verse under her breath.

Some people say ‘don’t worry bluesain’t bad’

Hey, now, I swear they’re the worstdamn thing I’ve ever had…

"I didn’t know you liked blues,Max."

"I love the blues," she replied all butpurring. "And there’s a lot about me that you don’tknow,"

Pascal smiled. Max was one of the few people heknew who could honestly be called a Morning Person. She was brightand relaxed and obviously didn’t need caffeine to function. Herlaughter was contagious and inviting. Pascal thought wickedly thatinnocent people rarely felt as he did right now.

"But never forget that I do know youBenjamin Pascal," she told him.

"I’m sure you do," replied BenjaminPascal.

Max was lying on her back beside him, one armthrown above her head and the other curled up in the crook of hisarm. Her skin looked so pale against her deep blue sweats. Even hernormally wild hair looked peaceful.

The pipemaster gently tapped out her nameinside her upturned palm until she closed her hand around hisfinger.

He smiled with delight.

"’Morning," she said, softly.

"’Morning," he replied, still caressingher palm with his finger. He wanted to ask her permission to do ahundred delectable things.

Max smiled into his eyes saw all his questions.Without saying a word, she put her index finger beneath his chin anddrew him into a kiss. They were sealing their promise and Pascal knewit. They had only to make it official in the eyes of his world. Herworld did not demand it.

"Would you be willing to stand before theCouncil and exchange vows with me?" he asked, quietly.

Max reached up and cradled his face in herhands. "Yes, Pascal," she said. "I would like that verymuch."

"I don’t have a ring to give you," he toldher, lacing his fingers through hers. "I will get one." Hisheart was pounding so hard, he was afraid it would beat itself rightout of his chest.

"I…have… no…words," shestammered. Her hands trembled beneath his. He could see that shealmost desperately wanted to speak but could not.

"It’s all right, Max," Pascal replied,tenderly. "It’s all right to just show me."

She did not have to be asked twice.

Max knew what he wanted. She softly touched herlips to his and whispered his name. When he answered her, he felt thesmall, perfect tip of her tongue dart tentatively across his lips.Pascal gave himself over to her completely.

"Dance with me, Max," he whispered, gentlytouching his tongue to hers. He felt her smile, he felt her warmtongue entwine with his. A jolt of desire ran down the full length ofhis body and back up again.

Max snaked her cool hands beneath his T-shirtand pulled him to her. Pascal thought he could die of the intimacy ofher touch. She ran her fingertips down his back and his sides andbrought her hands to rest over his pounding heart.

He held her close, deepening their kiss moreand more. He began to believe he could be one with her like this --their tongues and lips and breath dancing. Without breaking theirkiss, he lifted her sweatshirt and sank into the pleasure of skinagainst skin.

Max slid her arms around his neck and pressedher lean body hard against his.

Pascal ran his fingertips up her sensitivespine just to feel her shudder. He fed off her pleasure. He imaginedthat she had been born to fit him alone; even her skin seemed todance beneath his hands. He touched her in ways that pleasured herand excited him to the very center of his being.

"Make love to me, Pascal," she said, her voicecascading over his lips and tongue and down the back of histhroat.

I am, he thought. He was very aware ofhow her small, round stomach fit into his concave one and of how herbreasts perfectly fit the cup of his hands. He wanted to tell her howwonderful he felt, but he could no longer remember how tospeak.

Pascal had no conscious memory of removingtheir clothing. His only awareness was of Max and of her taste andher skin and of her surrounding him in every way humanly possible. Hetook her deeply and thoroughly. He thrust into her until he could nolonger tell where he ended and she began. They moved as one person,bodies mouths and minds dancing to the music inside. He came hard andfast.

Beyond words, beyond thought, Pascal kissed hersmile.

"I love you, too," Max whispered.

He sighed with perfect happiness. She truly didknow him.

Chapter 2:

"May I come in?"

Vincent stood respectfully at the doorway toPascal’s chamber, as was tunnel custom.

Pascal motioned him inside. "Of course!" hereplied, shoving Max’s duffel under the bed with his foot."I’m almost finished up in here. Do you have time totalk?"

"I always have time for you, myfriend."

"Thank you," the smaller man said, smiling. Hemoved to his sideboard and put water on to heat for tea. "We’llhave some Earl Grey and talk. Like old times."

"Where’s Maxine?" Vincentasked.

"She’s taking a quick bath," Pascalreplied. "I’m sure she’ll be back soon, though. I knowshe’d love to see you."

Vincent sat in Pascal’s lone chair whilethe pipemaster finished making his bed. Before Catherine and beforeMax, the two had often shared a quiet cup of tea before breakfast.Both missed the ritual.

"You seem to be yourself now," Vincent said.His sea blue eyes were filled with concern.

"I am," the pipemaster replied, nodding."I’m sorry I worried you."

"I’m the one who should be sorry, Pascal.I didn’t know how to break through your depression," Vincentsaid, slowly. "You were so angry at me."

"I was, but I’m not anymore." Pascal didnot know how to explain without bringing up a lot of things best leftunspoken. He slipped on his vest and said: "Max has a way of makingme see things for what they really are. Do you understand what Imean?"

Vincent nodded. The lionine man shifted in thesmall wooden chair. To him, everything in Pascal's chamber seemed tobe scaled for, well, hobbits. He sighed and tried valiantly tobalance his bulk at the impossibly small writing table. "I heardblues playing earlier," he said. "I take it Maxine shares your lovefor music?"

"Yes, she does," Pascal replied. He knew he wasblushing, so he kept his back to Vincent and pretended to be busywith the electric kettle. In spite of his private nature, he actuallyliked the fact that in tunnel eyes, he was linked to Max. Pascaltried to still his singing mind, so he could tell his friend hissecret. "I have news," the pipemaster said, finally. He busiedhimself in the preparation of The Tea. Cups, spoons, sugarcubes…

"Good news I hope?"

Pascal turned to face Vincent. He leaned backagainst the sideboard and crossed his arms, trying to look Normal. Itwas impossible to contain his happiness. "Vincent," he said. "I askedMax to marry me."

Vincent’s blue eyes shone. "And what didshe say?"

"She said Yes."

The next thing Pascal knew, Vincent had himlocked in an airborne bear hug "This is wonderful, wonderful news!"he roared, laughing "Congratulations!"

Still engulfed in Vincent’s good-naturedembrace, Pascal asked, "Will you help us tell Father?"

Vincent instantly grew conspiratorial anddeposited the pipemaster back on his own two feet. "Ah," he said."The game is truly afoot." He rubbed his chin. "Telling theproverbial Old Man is always tricky. Does one break it to him gentlyor drop it in his lap over breakfast?"

"I’ve always found the direct approachworks best," Pascal replied.

"That’s because he considers you anAdult," Vincent said, laughing. "I have a wife and child and he stilltreats me like a helpless infant."

"Between us, I’m still a little afraid ofFather," the pipemaster admitted.

"Between us, so am I."

The two men shared a good laugh.

"There’s always the option of telling Maryfirst," Vincent suggested. "She can work wonders when no one elsecan."

"My personal theory is that she blackmails theold man into submission," Pascal replied.

"Works for me."

Vincent carefully went through the pile of CDsthat lived on top of the desk. Most of them had property of m.l.seaton embossed on the covers; some had copyright dates from the nextmillennium. He chose one called "Supernatural" and handed itto Pascal. Vincent was always afraid he would scratch the littlediscs with his claws.

"You’ll like this one," Pascal said,approvingly. "It’s sort of late-at-night music and very good."He put on the CD and turned the volume down low.

"Well, I enjoy Carlos Santana," Vincentreplied. "Catherine has quite a few of his albums."

Pascal sat on the bed and held his teacup withboth hands. He had something on his mind. "Vincent, I think I toldMax some things I shouldn’t have last night," he said,slowly.

"Such as?"

"Such as how Father ignored the abuse that wenton." There. He’d said it. He hadn’t kept it locked in hisemotional little black book.

Vincent winced. "How did she takeit?"

"She understood implicitly."

"Why does that worry you?"

"I don’t know," Pascal replied, althoughhe really did know. "It was the way she said ‘talking about painsteals its power’."

Vincent reached over and touched the pipemasteron the arm. "Are you afraid she’ll say something to Father?" heasked.

"Yes."

"I’m sure if you ask her not to that shewill respect your wishes."

The pipemaster grew very quiet. He withdrew toa place deep inside the music. He had to force himself to speak."I’m not sure if I want to ask her to do that," he said. "Max isright, Vincent."

"Well, I guess it’s time Catherine hadcompany on Father’s Shit List," Vincent saidamicably.

Pascal smiled. "It must be lonely for her atthe top of the pile," he joked.

Vincent shifted his weight and the little chaircreaked ominously. "Catherine and Maxine would make a formidableteam," he said. "I can see it now. It isn’t pretty." He laugheduntil tears ran down his face.

"There’s a reason Father is always tryingto force a wedge between them." Pascal couldn’t help joining inthe laughter. "He’s afraid."

"He’s very afraid."

The two old friends shared the much-neededlaughter. It broke the tension of the bleak weeks of quarantine, andit healed a rift in their friendship. Pascal felt the mending deepdown inside his heart. This was a defining moment in time. Goingforward, he knew that he and Vincent would be true allies --;in friendship and in their closed society.

"We’ll definitely tell Mary first," Pascalsaid, gasping for breath.

"Definitely," Vincent agreed.

"Tell Mary what?"

Max stood in the doorway engulfed in thepipemaster’s huge robe. Her hair hung in an impossible tangle ofcurls and she was trailing a very wet towel.

"Max, you look like an angry wombat," Pascalsaid through tears of laughter. "What happened?"

"Somebody ‘accidentally’ knocked meunder the water in the very public bath," she said, darkly. "And tellMary what?"

"About us."

"I somehow doubt that will be necessary," Maxreplied. "Evidently, your chamber is situated on a direct hub to thecenter of the tunnel universe."

"What?" Pascal asked.

"Mary already knows. Father already knows. AndI’m sure every man, woman and child in the free worldalready knows." As an afterthought, she added: "Hello,Vincent."

"Hello, Maxine."

"Max, what are you talking about?" Pascalasked.

"I’m talking about the fact that I justhad a lovely run in with your ex-girlfriend," she snapped. "Rebeccanot only outweighs me by a good twenty pounds but also has no senseof honor."

"I’m afraid to ask, but what did she do toyou?"

"She dunked me!" Max replied. "No warning. Nonothing. Rebecca just knocked my head under the water and walkedout." She tried to rake her fingers through her matted curls."It’ll take hours to get this mess untangled."

Vincent caught Pascal’s eye and grinned."You’re lucky she didn’t drown you," he told Max. "Rebeccahas quite a temper."

"That’s a comfort," Max shotback.

Pascal got up and walked to over to her. Hepulled her inside and literally sat her down on the bed. He reachedover and got and old wide-toothed comb out of his bedside table."Don’t be such a sook, Max," he said laughing. "I’ll combyour hair."

"What’s a sook?" Max asked. She pretendedto be quite put upon about Pascal’s ministrations, but he couldtell she was actually very pleased.

"Yes, I’d like to know as well," Vincentsaid.

"It’s a great word," Pascal replied. "Ilearned it from that helper who always sends whale pictures alongwith care packages."

"But what does it mean?"

"It means cry baby." Pascal gently desnarledMax’s hair, which wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be.Wet, her hair was wiry and very, very curly and almost impossible tocomb. No wonder she was so angry with Rebecca.

"Oh, thank you very much," Max said. "I’llremember that the next time you get depressed." She mutteredsomething under her breath about Uptight Aryan BlondeWomen.

Vincent laughed.

"Rebecca is just That Way, Max," Pascal said,gently. He patiently worked through the mat of snarls around herface. One perfect curl emerged. "She saw the opportunity and she tookit. This will be the end of it."

She looked up at him balefully."Really?"

"Really," the pipemaster said.

"Really," Vincent said.

Max looked incredulous. "Humph," she said. Shetook the comb and began quickly yanking it through herhair.

"That looks like it hurts," Pascal said,wincing.

"It does," Max replied, her eyes watering. "Butit feels so good when I finish."

"I understand completely," Vincent said.Bathing for him was a good two-hour ordeal.

Max held out her hand. "Put ‘er there,comrade." They shook hands like old friends.

Pascal sat quietly and drank in the scene. Hewas happy in his skin, and the two people who mattered most to himliked each other. "Only Vincent knows, Max," he said, softly. "I toldhim and nobody else."

She smiled at him then. He was devastated byher warmth. He longed to touch her, to kiss her, and he knew itshowed.

"I’d better go and let you get dressed,"Vincent said, clearing his throat a little. "You don’t want tomiss breakfast."

"Oh," said Max. "Yes, of course."

Vincent left so quickly, Pascal laughedaloud.

"I didn’t mean to scare him," Maxsaid.

"You didn’t." he replied. "I did." Hetouched her then. And he kissed her. He pressed his forehead againsthers and said: "Vincent can read my face like a book."

Max smiled. "What am I going to do with you,hobbit?"

"I don’t know," Pascal whispered. "Howabout just love me?"

"I can do that," she said; and she pulled himinto her arms and held him.

She just held him.

Chapter 3:

It was common knowledge that every morningbefore breakfast, Father retired to the library to read the morningpapers. Any tunnel resident who wished to discuss something privatelywas welcome to do so at this time. There were simply some things thatcould not be said in the great hall.

The pipemaster stood in the in shadows beyondthe doorway for a long time before he finally found his voice."Father, may I come in?" The library smelled of books andcoffee.

Father looked over his glasses and motioned thepipemaster inside. "Of course," he said, clearing away a stack ofnewspapers. "Have a seat."

Pascal shifted a little uncomfortably on hisfeet. "I think I’d rather stand," he replied. "If that’sall right."

"It’s fine, Pascal," Father replied,smiling. "Come in, anyway."

"I have someone with me."

"I thought you might."

Pascal took Max by the hand and led her intothe light of the library. "Good morning, Father," she said,quietly.

"Good morning, Maxine," Father said. "It’sgood to see you. Would you like a seat?"

"Actually, yes, I would." She moved to thereading table with clarity and sat down across from Father. Sheturned and smiled. "Stop looming like a guilded bat and sitdown, Ben," she said.

Hearing her speak his given name in public wasvery satisfying. Pascal slid onto the bench next to her. He felt herwarmth and was calmed by her quiet breathing. He read the upside-downheadlines on the table in front of him. All of them were ugly. Hestopped reading.

"It’s good to see you looking well, myfriend," Father said, warmly. "When will you learn that the rules canbe broken? Your well-being is very important to me."

Pascal looked up with a jolt. He was about tospeak when felt Max’s cool hand on his.

"Father," she said. "He’ll never learn.That’s what I’m for." Her manner was light andflirtatious.

The old man actually laughed. "So to what do Iowe the honor?"

Max looked at Pascal with her calm violet eyesand smiled. She laced her fingers through his. Her smile and hertouch gave him strength.

"Max and I…" He heard his voice trail offinto quiet. The only sound was the murmur of the pipes. He wasacutely aware of Max’s cool skin against his. Pascal knew he hadto find the will to speak. "Father, Max and I wish to bemarried."

Father’s eyes were soft and kind."Congratulations, Pascal," he said, smiling. "Although, I must addit’s about time."

The pipemaster felt Max’s laughter cascadeover him. He lifted his fingers slightly, just to feel her respond tohis hidden caress.

"We want to stand in front of the Council andtake vows," Pascal said, quietly.

"I’d be honored to perform the ceremony,"Father said. "But I have a few questions for Maxinefirst."

Max withdrew her hand and folded it over herother one. She sat up very straight. "What sort of questions?" sheasked.

"Where will you live?" The old man looked verystern.

"Here and there," she replied, looking him inthe eye. "I have to continue my work during the day, so technicallyI’ll be only sleeping in the tunnels."

Pascal was surprised by the directness and alsothe implications of her answer. Of course, they’d discussedliving arrangements, but he had no idea Father would be in on thedeal.

Father shifted in his seat. He took a sip ofcoffee and said: "Since you are going to be living here atleast part of the time, I have the right to know what you are,exactly." The way he said the word what felt like a blow toPascal. It hurt him physically. "If you should become ill or hurt, Ineed to know how to treat you."

Max withdrew into herself in a way Pascal hadnever seen before. "There is no word in your language for what I am,"she replied, quietly. "My physiology is nearly identical to ahuman’s. In fact, our medical development evolved parallel toyours."

"Nearly?"

"I have two spleens and twoappendixes."

Father looked over his glasses and asked itagain: "What are you, Maxine? You’re an intelligentwoman. I’m sure you can find a word."

This was some sort of quiet war of wills, andPascal knew it.

She crossed her arms tight across her chest."Kobold," she spat. "Kobold would be closest." Max had retreated sofar behind her eyes that Pascal barely recognized her. "Yes, Father,I’m one of those gnarled little gnomes that live deep in mines.My clan has a genetic affinity for tunnels and time."

No wonder she calls me hobbit, Pascal thought.He longed to touch her, but sensed he should not. Not yet.

Father seemed satisfied with Max’s answer--; or rather her reaction to his prodding. "I have only one morequestion for you, then," he said.

"And what might that be?" Max asked.

"If you have children, where will theylive?"

Max uncrossed her arms and put her hands palmdown on the table. "Techs don’t have children," she replied,coldly. "Not that it’s any of your business." She pressedagainst the unforgiving oak so hard that all the veins on the backsof her hands stood out.

"He meant nothing by it, Max," Pascal said,gently. "Resources are tight here. Those are all legitimatequestions." He slid his arm around her waist and felt her relaxalmost instantly.

"Yes, Maxine," Father said, sounding hollow. "Imeant no harm."

"All right," said Max, but Pascal knew from thetone in her voice that she did not believe him. She acted is ifshe’d won a battle.

Maybe she had.

"I hope your wedding will be soon," the old mansaid, sounding defeated. "The community could use some happinessafter this epidemic. I know I could."

"Yes," Pascal agreed. "We all could." He lookedat Max, who still seemed very far away. "So, when will our weddingbe?" he asked softly. He caressed her with his voice and sheresponded.

Max smiled her private smile. "How long doesone need to make a wedding here?" she asked.

Pascal smiled back. "Long enough to prepare thegreat hall and invite the guests," he replied.

"May I invite my sister? I know there are rulesabout these things and --;"

Father cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Ofcourse," he said. "I have the feeling that in your world, peopleunderstand the need to preserve ours."

"They do," Max said, quietly.

"Then it’s decided," Father said. "You twowill stand in front of the Council as soon as you wish." He shuffledthrough the newspapers and picked up the financials. "Now, if youdon’t mind, I’d like to finish reading mynewspapers."

Standing in the silent hall outside thelibrary, Max leaned back against the wall and looked intoPascal’s eyes. "You never asked me what I am," she said. "Why isthat?"

"I didn’t need to," Pascal replied. Hecould almost taste her fear. Did she think he would reject her?He was the one who needed to worry about rejection. He had solittle to offer her. "You’re Max and you make my life wonderful.That’s all I need to know."

"Hold me?" she asked, her voice soft as breath."Please?"

Pascal leaned in and pressed his body againsthers. He pulled her away from the wall and into his embrace. Maxburied her face in the crook of his neck. "I don’t like Father,Ben," she whispered. He felt her breath soft against his skin. "Heenjoyed my discomfort. He thinks it gives himpower."

"I know, Max."

"It doesn’t."

"I know that, too."

Max slid her arms around him and held on verytightly. "I guess we have a wedding to plan," she said.

"I guess we do," Pascal replied, smiling. Hecouldn’t help it.

She arched back and looked at him."Pascal?"

"Yes?"

Max smiled and brought her cool hands up to theback of his neck. He shuddered with delight. "Kiss me."

"Here?" He asked, suddenly shy."Now?"

"Yes."

Pascal kissed her. He kissed her so softly thathe actually ached with tenderness. He opened his eyes and found herlooking at him. He laughed and so did she.

"We’re a good match," he said. He reachedup and buried his hands in her hair just to feel the curls surroundhis fingers.

"Yes, we are," Max replied, smiling. She was nolonger far away. She was here with him.

"Can we please get breakfast now?" Pascalasked. "I’m hungry."

She rewarded him with warm laughter and a smileso inviting it was all he could do not to drag her back to hischamber. Max reached up and guided his right hand down to hers. Shegentled his palm open and coded, I love you. Forever. Foralways. She offered her palm to him.

The pipemaster drew a heart with his indexfinger. Inside it, he tapped I love you, too. Forever and allways. He paused, looking for the right words. In all ways,Max. He coded slowly, making his words into a dance.Spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically.

The intimacy of this way of communicatingtouched Pascal on a level that went even deeper than making love. Heknew he connected with Max in a way that no one else ever could whenhe talked into her hand.

I have no words, she coded.

Max pressed her open palm against his. Pascalfelt an intense warmth pass between their kissing hands. He closedhis eyes and lost himself in the exchange. It was incredible andbeyond any physical experience he’d ever known. They stoodquietly connected like this until Father brushed by them in arush.

"We’d better go," Max said,finally.

"Yes," said Pascal. He couldn’t bringhimself to break the connection. He pleaded with his eyes. Please,Max, he thought. Don’t make me.

Max smiled.

They walked hand in hand to the great hall.Even though his world was too quiet and too many of his friends wereill, Pascal was happier than he had ever been in his life.

I am no longer alone, he thought. And I neverwill be again.

Chapter 4:

The pipemaster lay beside his sleeping wife. Hecouldn’t get enough of touching her. The simple feel of her skinbeneath his fingertips filled him with joy. He brushed the hair outof her face just to see her smile in her sleep. In spite ofeverything, she smiled freely.

I’m so happy, he thought. Do you knowthat? He hoped she did. He kissed her on the forehead and thensettled back against his own pillow.

For maybe the first time in his life, Pascalwas completely sated. He’d actually lost track of how many timesthey’d made love that night. With Max, there were so many levelsand so many ways. A kiss could send him to the heights of ecstasy; hecould peak just looking into her eyes. He remembered small things,special things --; like the way she smiled after he kissed her. WhenMax smiled like that, it filled him with both love and longing. Thatmade him smile.

Only twelve hours ago, Max stood in front ofthe Council and accepted his ring. And after the vows, before theykissed, she said loudly enough only for him to hear: "You’re sobeautiful." He’d managed to hold back his tears but onlyjust.

Everybody in the room cheered when they kissed.Pascal wanted that moment to go on forever, and it almosthad.

Lying here beside her, he vaguely rememberedthat there had been a time when he thought he’d lost her. Butshe chose him. Max chose him even though he had only himself tooffer.

Pascal rolled over and gathered her into hisarms. He fell asleep lulled by her warmth and by the soft scent ofher hair.

When word came down the pipes that Max returnedfrom Paradise four hours ago, Pascal knew something wasn’tright. She hadn’t stopped by the pipe chamber and shehadn’t sent word. As soon as Kip took over the line, thepipemaster went directly to his own chamber. It was silent. His heartsank. When Max was in residence, there was always music. Pascal wasworried. This wasn’t like her.

It took him a few moments to notice that hisboom box was missing --; along with Max’s backpack. There werevery few places in the tunnels that masked sound, and he knew themall. As none of the sentries reported her going Above, Pascal figuredshe’d probably gone deep into the catacombs.

He grabbed a Power Bar, his stethoscope and alantern and headed out. He ate the Power Bar on the run. His firststop was the main lead pipe inside the pipe chamber. Kip took onelook at him and called an all-silent.

"Who’s missing, Pascal?" heasked.

"Max."

The pipemaster was in his element now. He kneltbeside the lead pipe and placed his palms flat against its coppersurface. Talk to me, he thought. Beneath his hands, Pascal felt avery faint rhythm, like a heartbeat. He knew then that she was Below,anyway. The question was now Where? He took a deep breath and pressedthe stethoscope against the metal. The heartbeat becamewords.

The morning sun touchedlightly

On the eyes of Lucy Jordan

In her white suburban bedroom

In her white suburbantown…

The words became a map.

"Oh, Maxine," Pascal muttered. "You’re inthe third level catacombs." Trust Max to find the best acoustics inthe place.

Kip turned pale. "They’re completelyunstable."

"Yes, they are."

At the age of thirty-seven

She realized she'd never ride

Through Paris in a sports car

With the warm wind in herhair

"What do we do?" his assistant asked. "Should Isend out an emergency call?"

"You’ll do no such thing," the pipemasterreplied, sternly. "She’ll be fine as long as she doesn’tdecide to climb the walls." Or turn the volume up too high, hethought.

And she let the phone keepringing

As she sat there softlysinging

Pretty nursery rhymes she'dmemorized

In her daddy's easy chair

Pascal silently wondered what had gotten intoMax. He knew that she’d gone home to invite Addie to the weddingand to get a few things out of her office. Perhaps something wentwrong with her work? And why on earth was she playing The Balladof Lucy Jordan? The song was about suicide.

"Kipper, I’m going to find Max and bringher back," he said. "I want you to send a conditional all-clear. Nounnecessary traffic."

Kip nodded. He knew what to do.

"You stay glued to the lead pipe," Pascal said."If anything changes, and I mean anything, you signal meimmediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Pascal."

"And, Kip, not a word to anybody."

"Yes, sir."

Kip stepped into position in front of the leadpipe and began the task of listening with both his hands and hisears.

The pipemaster picked up his lantern and leftthe pipe chamber running. He had it in his mind that he wouldn’tstop until he was standing in front of Max. He moved quickly andquietly into the deep recesses of his world.

The catacombs had been blocked off by a cave-inmany years ago. Only old-timers knew that they were still accessibleby one unmarked passage. The entrance was situated in such a way thatunless one was directly in front of the door, it remained invisibleto the eye.

Pascal now stood silently in the cobwebs andshadows of the forgotten passage trying to catch his breath. Atleast, Max was safe. The old rooms were still electrified after allthese years. In the thin light of what had once been the best guestchamber, Max sat huddled in the middle of the floorsobbing.

"You shouldn’t be here," Pascal told her."It’s dangerous."

She looked up at him with uncomprehendingeyes.

His heart melted. Pascal went to her. He satdown on the floor and put his arms around her. "Max, I’m here,"he said. "What’s wrong?"

She let him gather her into his lap butdidn’t speak. Pascal rocked her to the rhythm of the music. Hedidn’t know what else to do. He’d never seen Max like thisbefore. She was so strong, but now she was crying as if her heart wasbroken.

"Talk to me, my love."

Max shook her head and shrugged. She put herfists against his chest and buried her face in his vest. Only thendid Pascal notice the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. He reachedup and gently tugged at it until she opened her fingers and letgo.

It was a letter.

Max (itread)--;

How dare you waltz into myhouse and announce that you’re marrying that man! What makes youthink I would condone such a union in the first place? It’swrong, Maxine.

Does he have any idea what you didfor him? Does he know that you literally threw his world back intime? I bet you didn’t tell him you did it more than once. Betyou didn’t tell him you did it until you got it right. How manytimes was it, Max? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? How many lifetimes has thatone miserable human lived because of you? He nearly cost you yourreputation and your career.

You say you want me to come to thewedding. Have you gone totally insane? Or do you just assume thatI’ll do anything you ask me to --; until you get itright? That stops here and now. Do you understand?

In our world, you’re rich.You’re famous. You have a life. You have a family who loves youand understands what you are. You’re special,Maxine Louise. In his world, you’re just another facelessperson. I’ve read his journals. They’re not that good. Noman is that good.

You’re better thanthat.

I love you, Max. I love you with allmy heart. But I just can’t. I can’t and Iwon’t. Find yourself another Ass-Istant. Iquit.

Until you start behaving like arational person, you are not welcome in my home. Don’t contactme. Don’t contact the kids. Don’t call, don’t email,don’t write, and don’t send music. You have nosister.

--;Adele Seaton-Deiter

Pascal had never read such an angry letter inhis life. Addie had to know that ugly words are more powerful onpaper and that her sister would react accordingly. Her letter wascalculated and it was mean; he could see that, even if Max probablycouldn’t right now. It was no wonder she was crying her heartout in the unstable dark.

Pascal didn’t know what to think, but heknew what to feel. "I love you, Max," he whispered, and he raised herclenched fist and kissed her hand.

"I love you, too," she said. Her voice was weakand very shaky. "And I love Addie; but she’s making me choose."Max grabbed on to his vest and gave him a little shake. "Why is shemaking me do that, Pascal?" she asked. "Why?"

His heart sank. "I don’t know," hereplied. He knew she wouldn’t choose him. He steeled himself tokeep from crying.

Max looked up at him, her violet eyes rimmedwith tears. "Addie doesn’t understand," she told him. "Shethinks she does, but she doesn’t." She ran her fingertipsacross his trembling lips. "You always have."

Pascal held her tight against him. He wasintensely aware of her soft curves and shuddering breath.

"I warned her," Max said. "I asked her not tomake me choose. And she went ahead and did it, anyway."

The pipemaster brought his hands up and cradledher face. He wanted so much to believe she would choose him. ButAddie was right about one thing: in his world, Max was special onlyto him.

Max covered his hands with hers, lacing herfingers through his. "I came here to say good-bye," she told him,softly.

Pascal could no longer hold back the tears.They flowed down his face unbidden. He couldn’t bring himself tolook at her. It hurt too much. But if he had to say good-bye, so beit.

Suddenly, Max was kissing him, touching him inways that both comforted and aroused him. "No, Ben, no!" she said. "Ichoose you!" Her hands were everywhere at once. Her fingers untiedthe cords that closed his tunic. She pressed her hands against hisbare chest and desperately coded. I choose you. I chooseyou.

Kissing her, he gently trailed his hands downuntil they covered hers. He tasted her tears and yet he could notstop the fierce need from building deep inside him. Max, hecoded on top of her tender hands, Max, you don’t have tochoose. We don’t have to get married.

She broke their kiss and gave him one of herdevastating smiles. "I want to marry you," she replied. "Somuch."

"So much," Pascal whispered. He kissed heragain, deeply. He no longer tasted tears. He tasted herstrength.

"I came here to say good-bye to Addie,"Max whispered. Her hands were still over his heart. "Even if Ihadn’t made my decision, what you said would have cemented itfor me."

"What did I say?" The pipemaster was baffled.He’d said nothing --; only what was in his heart.

Max wrapped her arms around his neck andsmiled. "You said I didn’t have to choose," she replied,quietly.

"Oh," said Pascal. He was surprised and verytouched.

"Ben," she said. "May I ask yousomething?"

"Of course."

"Would you dance with me?" Max pressed herforehead against his and shuddered a little. "Not to this song. Butto another one?"

"I’m a rotten dancer," Pascal replied,smiling. He wanted to say, God, Max, don’t you know I’d doanything you asked me to? I want you so much, I could die fromit. Instead, he said: "I’ll dance with you, Max."

Max stood and walked to the CD player. Shepunched some buttons and Lucy Jordan mercifully went away. Inher place was a song Pascal had never heard. It rolled like thewheels of a train; it flowed like blood to his heart. Max opened herarms to him and together they danced good-bye to Addie.

Dreams in the night

Dreams overflow

Building bridges to eachother

Hearts make the waters flow

"I won’t give up on her, you know," shewhispered, her words themselves seemed to be part of thedance.

"I know," Pascal said. "You didn’t give upon me." He flashed on Addie’s angry letter and wondered how manylives Max had bequeathed him. At the same time, he also knew itdidn’t really matter. The only life that meant anything to himwas this one now.

Max smiled. Her hair brushed against his cheekand neck as they danced.

You were sleeping, I waswalking

To the rhythm of the fallingrain

Too much water, to cross over

All the bridges falling down

"We’ll have a beautiful wedding,won’t we, Ben?" Her body fit against his soperfectly.

You sing songs

With overtures

From strange exotic places

Words I've never heard

"Yes, we will," Pascal replied. He brushed hislips against her ear. He wanted her. He wanted her like he’dnever wanted in his entire life. The pipemaster imagined whatit would be like to take her here in this forgotten room on this softdirt floor. Oh, my beautiful Max, he thought. Would you let me? Thevery question was so overwhelming that a moan escaped his lips beforehe could stop it.

Max looked at him with knowing eyes. "It’sall right," she whispered. "I feel the same way."

Wait 'til the morning

Don't send me back

Don't send me back across therainbow

No return to where I've been

They danced until the song ended and thecatacombs were silent again. Pascal forced himself to walk over tothe one exposed pipe in the room and tap out a safe return message toKip. The pipemaster unplugged the boom box and gathered their things.He folded Addie’s letter and tucked it inside his vest pocket.Then, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and handed the lanternto Max. He picked up the boom box and offered her his free hand. Shetook it very gently.

"Let’s go home, Max," he said.

"I’d like that," she replied.

Max laced her fingers through his.

Pascal pulled her closer and slid his armaround her waist. She leaned in to his embrace. "I love you," shesaid.

"I’m beginning to figure that out," hereplied, laughing. He grinned at her.

For the first time that evening, Max laughed.To Pascal, that sound was better than any music he knew; and he toldher so. "I love you, too, Max," he said. "Everything will work outall right," he told her. "Addie’s just afraid. Remember how shecried when you came across to meet with the Council?"

"Yes," Max said, softly. "Iremember."

"Give her time," Pascal told her. "She’llcome around."

"I won’t give up," Max replied. There wasfierceness in her voice.

Pascal stopped and turned to face her. Withoutasking, he kissed her with equal fierceness until she melted into hissoul.

We’ll give the sentries something to talkabout, he thought or said or thought.

"Ben, I want you," Max moaned, her voice wasrough with need.

"I know, my love," Pascal said. "I know." Hesoothed her need with tenderness. "We’ll be home soon. I’lldo anything you ask of me, then." I’d do anything you ask of menow, he thought.

Max smiled and pinned him against the passagewall with her small body. She kissed him almost roughly. He liked it.Pascal felt his control slipping. "Please, Max," he pleaded. "Waituntil we get home." God, he prayed. Help me wait until we gethome.

"This really is my home, isn’t it?"Max asked, quietly. Her beautiful face was still like the pipes atnight.

"Yes," Pascal replied. "It is."

"Hobbit, you read Addie’s letter," shesaid. "I don’t think I can go back across for a while. Idon’t want to."

"Then stay."

"With you?" She looked at him so hopefully, hehad to laugh.

"God, yes, Max," Pascal said. "Withme."

Max smiled. She kissed him with that samesmile. "Let’s go, Ben. I want you to walk me back to yourchamber."

"Our chamber," he said,firmly.

Pascal took her hand in his and quietly led herback to the only home he’d ever known.

Chapter 5:

He couldn’t get the song out of his mind.He ran through it over and over, like a broken record.

I was driving on against thewall

Hitting it like a wave

Trying not to feel at all

"Vincent, she’s just so quiet," thepipemaster said. He blew across the tea in his cup, just to see hisbreath ripple across the surface. "Max spends her days Above, andwhen I’m working the line in the evening, she buries herselfinside books," he went on. "It’s like a light’s gone out;and I don’t know what do."

"There may not be anything you can do,Pascal," Vincent replied. "We all deal with grief in different ways,and this just may be hers."

The pipemaster nodded. "I guess you’reright," he agreed. "I never looked at it that way." He ran his indexfinger around the brim of the china cup. It was verysmooth.

"You’re a kind person," Vincent said,speaking slowly, as if to clarify the point. "You love Maxine deeply.You see her hurt and only want to soothe it. But some hurtscan’t be soothed. They can only be lessened."

"I think Max is more angry than hurt," Pascalsaid, softly. "I see it in her eyes, sometimes." He thought of hislover’s expressive face and his heart broke a little.

"Anger is grief, my friend."

"I know."

Vincent settled back in Father’scomfortable reading chair. "Maxine is very much like you, Pascal," hesaid.

"You think?"

"Yes," he replied. "I do."

"How so?" Pascal knew that Max was verydifferent on a fundamental level. For one thing, she loved easily.She loves me, he thought.

"She heals her heart by feeding her mind,"Vincent said. "And she uses music to say what her wordscannot,"

"I don’t do that."

"Yes, you do. You always have."

Pascal felt a blush rise.

"It’s all right, my friend," Vincent said,gently. "I’m probably one of two who hears."

"Oh," said Pascal. He felt exposed. Hewasn’t sure that he liked the idea of Father’s son knowinghis most intimate thoughts. He decided to be more careful in thefuture.

"You have to admit that she’s much more atease since Father steered her towards Edith Wharton," Vincent said,laughing softly. "It was a very savvy move I think."

"Yes, it was," the pipemaster agreed. "Max saysthat compared to The House of Mirth, the whole Addie Thingisn’t depressing at all."

Vincent threw his head back andlaughed.

"Of course, she also says that her friendAnnika the massage therapist doesn’t really like touchingpeople; but as it’s touching for money, massage isokay."

"Is that as illegal as itsounds?"

Pascal laughed aloud. "I have no idea," hereplied. "But Annika’s coming to the wedding, so I get thefeeling we’re going to find out."

"Does Maxine have any family besides Addie?"Vincent asked, quietly.

"Not that I know of," Pascal replied. "But shehas some close friends --; Annika for one. And there’s a bluesmusician that she considers family. I’ve exchangedletters with him. He seems very nice and adores Max even though, andI quote, ‘the girl needs to mellow out and partake of herbalrefreshment.’"

"Maxine certainly accepts people on their ownterms, doesn’t she?" Vincent asked, suddenly serious.

"That she does, my friend. That shedoes."

The two sat and finished their tea in silence.Pascal listened to the pipes, but in the background, he heardMax’s music:

You don’t know what it took to leaveyou

You don’t know what it did tome.

Deep down, the pipemaster knew that Vincent wasright. There were so many feelings that neither he nor Max couldvoice; and Max was healing in her own way. Still, one verse of thesong stood out from the rest:

Every step I took just toldme

That battle was easy for me

Baby, just let me make it all up toyou.

And Pascal solidly decided that that wasprecisely what he was going to do. Sitting quietly in the study withhis best friend, he decided that he would make Max’s life asfull and as wonderful as he could. Starting now. If she wanted todisappear Above, he’d swallow his discomfort and go with her. Ifshe wanted to curl up with a book and read in silence, then he woulddo that beside her, too. After all, she’d spent hours thus withhim.

I’ll make it all up toyou

I’ll make it all up toyou.

"Pascal, look at the time!" Vincent said,suddenly. "You’re late for your shift!"

But the pipemaster was already gone. He wasrunning towards the pipe chamber.

The shift was a particularly long and arduousone, and Pascal’s only thought was of home and Max. She was atireless sit-in-the-quieter and a gentle listener. He made the shortwalk quickly and lightly. He stopped at the door to their chamber andlooked inside.

Max was stretched out on the floor with herfeet propped up on the bed, reading The Age of Innocence. Somesad ragtime waltz seeped out from around her earphones. Pascal leanedagainst the doorjamb and watched her, grinning. When Max read, herfingers unconsciously tapped out the words against the book’scover in time to the music.

He must have sighed, because she looked over athim and asked, "How long have you been standing there, hobbit?" Shepulled off the headphones.

"Not long," Pascal replied. He didn’t movefrom his perch and he didn’t stop smiling.

Max let the open book fall down against herchest and hugged it. "I had no idea people wrote novels like this,"she said. "I thought all straight fiction was mad monkey sex and wetsucky noises --; in other words boring." She closed her eyesand stretched a little. "But it’s not," she went on. "Some of itis amazing and beautiful."

"Yes," Pascal replied. "Some of it is." Hereally wanted to how her world defined ‘straight fiction’and exactly how said wet sucky noises could be‘boring.’ He wanted examples; he wantedtitles.

"And why is this called The Age ofInnocence, anyway?" Max asked. "It should be The Age ofMonumental Cruelty." She held out her hand to him and he walkedover and took it.

Soon, the pipemaster was stretched out besideher; his feet propped up on the bed. It felt likeParadise.

"Read to me, Pascal," she said.

He reached into his vest pocket and eased hisglasses out of their hard case. Before he put them on, he kissed hersoftly, just to feel her smile. "Where were you?" heasked.

Max handed him the book and pointed to herplace on the page.

Pascal took a breath and began to read. As thewords slid from his mouth, it occurred to him that Max was right.This was a cruel story.

Ever since she’d been introduced toClassic Novels, Max couldn’t get enough of them. She kept askinggoofy questions, like: "Why don’t they teach this in school?Children would be so much happier if they read Little House onthe Prairie, don’t you think?"

"They do read it," Pascal or Vincent orFather or Mary would reply laughing.

And Max would look more than a little miffedand toss her hair and say, "Well, I never read it. The focusin our school system is history and the sciences. Not the Arts. Ofcourse, we read Rose Wilder Lane. But that’s different; she waspolitical."

As he read, Pascal felt Max relax against him.As she relaxed, her hands started to read along with his voice. Itfelt wonderful. Afraid to say anything, he kept reading. After awhile, he found it hard to keep his voice even. He wanted to cry out;he wanted to laugh. Until Max, no one in his life had found joy incode, and certainly, no one coded without thinking. He knew he did,occasionally. (Growing up, Vincent teased him about it.) Now, his Maxdid --; when she read and when she listened to music, sometimes. Sheeven coded in her sleep but softly, and he never could tell exactlywhat she was saying. It didn’t matter. There was such warmthinherent in Max’s cold hands.

Pascal balanced the book against his chest andreached over and covered her hand with his. Max looked up athim.

"What?" she asked. "Why did you stopreading?"

"It’s nothing," he replied. He was afraidif he said anything, she would become self-conscious andstop.

"No, Pascal," Max said, rolling so her chin wason his shoulder. "I want to know."

"Max, you code," he whispered.

"I code?"

The pipemaster looked into her violet eyes andsmiled. "Yes," he said. "You code. When you read. When I read." Whenyou think to yourself, when you dream…

"Does it bother you?" She started to take herhand away but he stopped her.

"No," he replied. "I like it." He ran hisfingertips across the back of her hand. I like it verymuch.

Max blushed.

"It happens, Max," he told her, gently. "Ithappens to me all the time."

"It does?" she asked.

"Yes, it does." Pascal laughed. "I’ll betroubleshooting or thinking or just day dreaming, and suddenly, Ilook down and my fingers are going a mile a minute." He squeezed herhand. "Don’t say you haven’t noticed."

Max smiled self-consciously.

Pascal groaned inwardly. He’d been soafraid of that. "Max," he said, sternly. "You have no idea how much Ilike that you do it, too. No idea."

Her face was nearly as red as her hair. Shelooked away.

He set the book aside and took off his glasses.The pipemaster was always amazed at the small things that embarrassedMax. He covered her now still hand with both of his. I didn’tmean to make you uncomfortable, he coded.

Pascal marveled at the contrast between herhands and his own. Years at the pipes had given him large callusesand even nerve damage. Max’s hands were very, very smooth; eventhe ridges where her veins stood out were soft. Her palms felt almostliquid to the touch, they were so incredibly expressive. Taking herhand in both of his, he turned it palm upward against hischest.

I love that you code, Max, he said intothe fluid skin.

Her breath was suddenly ragged.

It’s rare and special, he went on.So few people ever come into my world.

Max looked at him. He swore he saw desperationin her eyes.

Pascal let his fingertips rest against herpalm. He had very little sensation in them anymore, but he couldstill feel the warmth and the connection. He closed his eyes andsoftly caressed her hand. Your coding means more to me thananything. He found himself suddenly and completelyaroused.

Max shifted and brought her other hand up tocover his. I didn’t know, she coded. Do I do this inpublic?

"Sometimes," Pascal replied. His voice wasrough from the reading and then disuse. Images flooded his mind. Hewanted to kiss her hands. He wanted to make love to her hands.It was his turn to blush. "Sometimes, you code along to theconversation."

How long have I been doingthis?

"Not long," he whispered. I don’t know.A while. He fought the desire to bring her hands to his lips, totaste her slim fingers. What was happening to him?

"Don’t fight it, Ben," she said, her voicelow and rough. Max lifted their clasped hands to his hungrymouth.

Pascal moaned as he gave in to his need. Herskin was so soft, so smooth, so cool; and it tasted so sweet. Heloved her hands with his tongue and his lips and his breath. Hecaressed her fingers with his own. He buried his face in her openpalm and smelled her strange scent. Pascal thought of the tender waysshe touched him with those hands and took her reaching finger intohis mouth. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasshocked by his own boldness.

Don’t stop, she coded against histrembling lips.

"I can’t," he moaned. What washappening to his mind and to his body? He was doing things to Maxhe’d only imagined. Desire flooded over him in waves.

Max pressed against him, but he only wanted herhands, her beautiful hands. He entwined his fingers with hers, andthat’s when he realized her hands were warm! And almostat the same instant he had this realization, Max tried to pull herhands away. He didn’t let her. Instead, he tasted theirwarmth.

Pascal pulled her to him, so he could watch herface while he pleasured her. Max’s pupils dilated until he couldsee almost no violet. "Oh, Max," he whispered. "Why didn’t youtell me your hands are an erogenous zone?"

She blushed a deep crimson and said: "Ididn’t know how."

I want this the pipemaster lightly codedwith the tip of his tongue against her palm. "I’ve wanted thisfor a long, long time," he said. His voice was so rough and warm hedid not recognize it as his own. "I just didn’t knowit."

Max smiled.

Pascal ached with need and with desire. She hadto know. She had to feel it. Max, please, he coded with hisclumsy fingers. Please. His mouth found hers and hethrust his wanting tongue deeply, leaving no doubt as to what he hadin mind.

"How do you want me, Pascal?" she asked, hervoice low and soft.

He didn’t know how to ask. He looked downat her hands and then back to her lovely face. That was as clear ashis insecurity allowed him to be.

Her eyes widened "Oh," Max whispered, but shedidn’t look away. Instead, she gave him a slow kiss and loweredtheir dancing hands…

He was physically aware only of Max’sgiving fingertips, of her warmth, of the words she coded as he madelove to her hands. Gentle by nature, Pascal was surprised by thebrutal need behind his thrusts. He couldn’t stop himself frompounding upward, upward between and against her palms. Herhands were so warm. He pressed his hands down against hers. When shepressed back against him, it felt like fire. As their passionincreased, the heat intensified and he was compelled to take her.Hard. Deep. Fully. Pascal heard her cry out; and then he cried out.And the whole world shuddered and their chamber was still.

Drifting peacefully in and out ofconsciousness, Pascal was warm beneath the blanket of Max’saccepting hands. He wondered how he’d ever survived without thisrare pleasure. His eyes slowly came back into focus, and he lookedover at Max. She smiled back at him from under her eyelashes. Thepipemaster began to understand what had just happened betweenthem.

He suddenly realized that Max’s power wasall in her hands. She threw his world back in time. Shemade doorways in time. She brought his emotions to thesurface. She healed with her touch. And she spokefreely and easily with her fingers. It made sense that her deepestpathway to intimacy was hidden inside her touch. He still felt thatintense connection flowing between them. The cold was merely aglove --;natural protection against pain.

Pascal also sensed that her desire had somehowflooded over and into his body and guided him. He often felt layersof emotion when they made love; and now he thought he knew why."Max," he whispered. "Can you feel what I’m feeling? Do you letme feel what you feel?"

Max moved closer to him, and nodded. Her eyeswere endlessly deep.

"Can you see behind my eyes?"

"Yes," she said. Her voice was verycontrolled.

"Can you see behind them now?" Pascal asked. Ilove you, Maxine Louise, he thought. I love the way you touch me. Ifyou can hear this, please kiss me.

Max smiled. She moved into the kiss verytenderly. And she said, slowly, softly: "I love you, too, BenjaminPascal. I love the way you think."

"Everything will be all right, Max," hesaid.

"But all right has its own terms this time, "she replied, sadly. "After the wedding, I may have to close the doorfor a while." And live here full time came through loud andunspoken.

Pascal nodded. He understood. "It’s theonly way." He smiled at her. "How does that song go?"

"Which one?" Max smiled, too, and rolled on topof him. The connection grew even more intense.

He kissed her. "The one that says youdon’t die from love."

She laughed. "Oh, that one."

Sing it for me, he thought.

Her voice ran softly through his mind, clearlyand sweetly:

You don’t die from love

Your world won’t end

You’ll live to see it allagain

Your little heart will openwide

The tears will come

You don’t die from love.

"You’ll be all right, Max," he told hersoftly.

"I know," Max said, kissing him. "I haveyou."

"No," Pascal replied, gently. "We have eachother."

"You’re right," she said, smiling. "Thereis a difference."

"Yes," he said.

Oh, yes.

Their connection built until there was nothingleft of shared loneliness or sadness. There was only mutual passionand something much sweeter than that --; simple love.

Oh, yes, Pascal thought as he kissed her. We dohave love.

In abundance, Max coded softly with thetip of her tongue against his lips.

The pipemaster laughed and allowed her to seedeep inside his soul.

Max smiled.

"Everything is all right," shewhispered. "Oh, hobbit, I love you so."

"You’re my heart," Pascal said. Addie willcome around, he thought.

"You know what?" Max replied

"What?"

"I don’t give a damn if Addie nevercomes around in this life," she replied. "I’m happy. For thefirst time, I’m truly happy." She kissed him tenderly and shesighed.

Pascal lost himself deep inside her touch, andhe smiled.

Much later that night, when the pipes werequiet and the tunnels were still, he led Max to the second-levelbaths. Once he ascertained that the baths were empty, Pascal politelyleft a flag at the entrance so no one would disturb them.

Neck-deep in the hot water, the pipemaster didnot ache so much; and Max understood this implicitly. Physical painseemed to be the one thing that separated and defined them. Pascalwas ashamed of this, but she accepted it the same way she acceptedhis depression, as part of who he was. She curled up in his lap andwrapped her arms around his shoulders and deftly eased the knots fromhis upper back. Her hands were cool again.

"Thank you," Max said, softly.

"For what?" Pascal asked.

Max pressed her forehead against his. "Fortonight," she replied, smiling into his eyes. "For acceptingme."

He was caught completely off-guard. Hedidn’t know how to respond, and it showed.

She laughed warmly. "Just say, You’reWelcome, Max," she said.

"You’re Welcome, Max," Pascal replied,laughing as well. He reached up and buried his hands in her hair. Itwas curled tight from the humidity. He leaned in and kissed hersmile. "I love you with all that I am," he said. "You know that,don’t you?"

"Yes," she replied, softly. "And you know thatI love you, too."

"Yes."

Pascal wanted to ask her about something --;something that crept in around the edges of his mind while they weremaking love. He touched her tenderly.

"What is it, Ben?" Max asked, softly. "You lookso serious."

"I am serious," he replied, smiling. Hedrew her very close. The water around them rippled and waved. "Ifelt it, Max," he whispered.

"What?"

"Your walls aren’t as high as you thinkthey are."

She grew very still in his arms. Her handsstayed poised along his shoulders. Time itself seemed tostop.

"I know," he said. "And it’s allright that I know."

Max actually began to shake. She lookedaway.

Pascal put his hand under her chin and turnedher face back to his. "I want a family with you, too," he toldher, gently.

"It can’t happen, Pascal," Maxsaid.

"That doesn’t matter to me," Pascalreplied, smiling. He felt complete. "But your feelings do mattervery much. I want you to know that."

She smiled, too; and he smoothed the hair backfrom her eyes.

Chapter 6:

The lead pipe gave out on Thursday morning. Itcame crashing down from its moorings and refused to be righted."Vincent," Pascal said, running his hands over his head. "I’vedone everything I know to do, and there’s no way around it. Thistime, it must be fixed."

Vincent groaned. Fixing the lead pipe was amajor undertaking. Fixing the lead pipe meant solder. It meantwelding. But mostly it meant working very, very fast in extremelycramped conditions. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

The pipemaster shifted from one foot to theother and back again. "The usual," he replied. "I’msorry."

"There’s no need to apologize, Pascal,"Vincent said. "These things happen. I’ll get Cullen and Williamand meet you in the pipe chamber in ten minutes."

Vincent accepted mending, patching and fixingas part of tunnel life. Over the years, he’d developed a keensense of what could be rigged and what could not --; and more thananything, he trusted his instincts. When the pipemaster said thatsomething had to be fixed, instinct agreed.

"Fifteen minutes would be better," Pascal said,decisively. "I need to gather my tools."

Max looked up from her dog-eared copy AllThis and Heaven, Too and asked, "What can I do tohelp?"

"Rub my back, when I’m finished," Pascalreplied, impatiently. He found his tool belt from on top of a pile ofbooks that he’d never seen before.

"Ben, I really want to help," shesaid.

The pipemaster stopped and looked at his loverfrom an engineering point of view. Max was almost exactly his sizeand nearly as strong. The few times he’d asked her help,she’d been efficient and very, very steady. But he also knewthat this particular job required precision and speed that came onlywith experience. Lack of experience in these matters often led toserious injury.

"Next time, Max," Pascal told her. "As much asI’d love to teach you, we’re working against theclock."

"I understand."

Max extended her hand to him. Pascal took itand allowed himself to be drawn into her embrace. When she smiled athim, he leaned down and kissed her. He meant for it to be a quickkiss, but he found himself lingering until she parted her smile.Pascal all but melted into her lap. He buried his face in herhair.

"Just be here when I get back," hewhispered.

Max arched away and looked into his eyes. Sheframed his face with her soft, cool hands and smiled. "Of course,"she replied, lightly running her fingertips through his remaininghair. The pipemaster relaxed and refocused beneath her touch."I’ll be here, my fine bald hobbit," Max said. She pressed herforehead against his. "Please be careful."

Pascal fortified by her words and her concern,turned his attention to the task at hand.

"I won’t be long, Max," he said. "And restassured, I will be careful."

"Good."

"It’s based on a true story, you know,"Pascal called on the way out the door.

"What?"

"The book you’re reading."

Max’s laughter followed him down thehall.

Not long turned into six hours. The initialrepair job went quickly, but closer inspection revealed the reasonfor the failure. One repair became two and two became four --; and atone point, Vincent actually cursed and questioned the leadpipe’s parentage. It turned out that the bracing systemhad to be realigned. It was filthy, exacting work and Pascal,Vincent, Cullen and William ended up covered in grime and hysterical.Kip completely lost it and banished them from the pipe chamberforever.

"Or at least until you can behave like adults!"he snapped, brandishing his ‘tappers’ at them from hisperch on the third level. He fairly oozed with a fifteen-year-oldsrighteous fury. "Don’t make me come downthere!"

"Ooo, I’m scared," said Cullen.

"Terrified," said William.

"Let us depart before he spontaneouslycombusts," Vincent said.

Pascal, who was laughing too hard to speak,merely gathered his tools and walked out the door. His partners ingrime wisely followed, leaving Kip to stew in private.

Max saw the look on his face and asked: "Whatevil thing have you done?"

"Nothing," Pascal replied, shrugging. Hereturned his tool belt to its place on top of Ghost Towns,Gamblers & Gold. "Nothing at all." He smelled and he needed abath.

"Is that why you’ve been banished fromyour own pipe chamber for life?"

"Evidently, Kip can’t handle anyone buthimself acting like a teenager."

"Righteous," said Max. She returned to herreading, or hiding behind her hair. Pascal couldn’t decidewhich.

The pipemaster stretched and looked around thechamber. In his absence, the piles of books and CDs had definitelygrown. Odd-looking cables and patch cords trailed out from under thebed, and something suspiciously electronic seemed to have beenstuffed under the writing table and covered with a towel. Did shethink he wouldn’t notice?

"Max, what’s going on?" heasked.

"Pascal, we have to talk." She didn’t lookup.

"I’m listening."

"I closed the door," Max said.

Even though they’d discussed this atlength, Pascal was stunned and he let it show. Max closed the book,put her hands in her lap and looked up at him.

"It was time," she said.

The pipemaster went to her then. Smells andbaths be damned, he knelt beside her chair and took her hands in his.Her palms had the slick feel of liquid mercury, as if nothing couldbreak the surface. "Why now?" he asked. "Did somethinghappen?"

"Pascal, there are things you don’t know,"Max replied. "Things that outweigh stupid family prejudice andcareers." She held his hands very tightly. "This community mustcontinue to exist beyond the next century. It’s my job tosee that it does. I can’t do that sitting on thefence."

Max literally collapsed against his chest.Pascal steeled himself to keep from falling over.

"Please forgive the mess," she said.

"There’s nothing to forgive," Pascalassured her, smiling.

She entwined her fingers in his.

"Your world is like an engine that powersmine," Max went on. "Relationship is the fuel that feeds it. Theremust always be balance," she said decisively. "And mygoing back and forth kept everything out of balance. Do youunderstand?"

"I think so," Pascal replied. He marveled atthe liquid feel of her skin and the way it seemed to accept andsurround his hands. "What about your family, Max? What about yourfriends?"

Max finally looked into his eyes. "Love stillexists behind closed doors," she said, smiling softly. "And we makesuch a good fit."

"Yes, we do." The pipemaster found infinitewarmth inside that smile.

Her smile deepened into a grin. "You dorealize that I know how everything turns out," she said.

"And?"

"It’s all good."

Pascal burst out laughing and pulled her intohis arms. One thing about Max --; she wasn’t bothered by grimeor sweat. She kissed him with a sweet gentleness that demanded anequally gentle response.

"You’re very afraid, aren’t you?"Pascal asked, tracing the outline of her lips with hisfingertip.

"Yes," Max whispered, nodding. "I reallyam."

They sat huddled on the floor between piles ofbooks and CDs and clothing. Pascal held her very close. "Youcan open the door again, right?"

"If I choose to," she replied. Her voicetrembled slightly.

"When you choose to," Pascal said,firmly. His voice sounded very strong.

"Okay, when," Max agreed. She held ontightly and was silent.

He rubbed her back lightly and felt her give into comfort. Pascal looked around at their disordered chamber. Thepicture was definitely worse from floor level. He smiled and gentlylifted her face to his. When they kissed, Pascal finally and solidlyunderstood that he completed Max as she did him.

He didn’t even care that every physicalobject in the room was out of place.

Small things don’t matter, he thought.You taught me that.

Suddenly, Max laughed. She laughed with herwhole being. "Pascal," she said. "No offense but you reallyneed a bath."

"Now you tell me."

Pascal found out much later that while he wasbusy repairing the pipes, Max had been holed up with Father. The twohammered out an Agreement -- the details of which were never revealedby either party. When Vincent tried to ask Father about it, the oldman turned pale and refused to discuss the matter at all. Max merelysmiled like the Mona Lisa and said: "Water under the bridge." Andthat was all she would say.

Pascal knew her well enough to guess thatshe’d played a trump card --; one that Father could neitheracknowledge nor refuse. He also noticed that while Max preferred toremain on the edges of tunnel life, she immediately began teachingthe older children history and also helped Mary in the infirmarywhile he worked his day shift on the line. The pipemaster sensed thatwhatever the agreement reached, it had certain conditions and thatMax willingly abided by them.

He teased her about it once and onlyonce.

"I hope Father wasn’t too hard on you,"Pascal said. "I hope he didn’t threaten to kick you out on yourpretty little tucas."

"I’m here, aren’t I?" she told him,smiling too sweetly. "Besides, the price was right."

"Let me guess," he said. "All it cost was yourpride?"

"Yes," Max replied. "But I didn’t needit." She laughed the way she did late at night when only he waslistening. "I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, Ben.Okay?"

"Okay," said Pascal.

Love made him selfish; it didn't make himstupid. They never talked about it again.

Her nightmares started not long after hermeeting with Father. At least, he assumed they did. "Don’t worryabout it, Just Pascal," Max said, shrugging. "It happens. They go incycles."

She was cowering in the hall with her personalDVD player at the time.

Pascal said nothing, but he went back intotheir chamber and got his thick old, quilt off the bed. He sat downbeside her and gently pulled its warm layers up aroundthem.

"You don’t have to sit with me," shesaid.

"I know," he replied. He slipped his arm aroundher shoulders. "What are you watching, Moxie?"

Max actually blushed. "Diary of a LostGirl," she murmured.

Pascal smiled to himself. Max’s tasteusually ran along the lines of the Marx Brothers and in a pinch ValLewton’s original Cat People. By day, she preferredcomedy and implicative fear, but in the dark, she turned to silence.The only exception to the rule was Les Enfants du Paradis; andhe knew well enough to steer clear of her when she sat alone watchingthat.

"You’re not lost," Pascal said.

Max pretended to be absorbed in the dance thatwas Louise Brooks.

"You’re not," he saidagain.

"I know," she said, softly. She leaned in tohis embrace and balanced the DVD player on her knees between them.Without music, without sound, the flickering images seemed veryfragile on the tiny screen. "It’s like watching somebodyelse’s dream, isn’t it?"

"Yes, it is." Pascal gently guided her head tohis shoulder. She rested there without resistance.

"It’s late," Max said. "You should beasleep."

"I think I’ll sit here awhile, if youdon’t mind," Pascal said.

In reply, Max settled in and slid her handunder the covers. She placed it over his heart, but she didn’tspeak. She never spoke of the nightmares. What she didcommunicate came through only in the language of somebody else’sdreams.

Pascal understood this implicitly. The messageinside the silence was chilling: how could something that feels soright and so good have a price? He wanted to ask her about it, but healready knew the answer --; and it frightened him. The pipemasterknew that the nightmares were connected to his lover’s agreementwith Father. It made him feel somehow unclean.

Pascal held her hand close to his heart andtapped out the subtitles on the back of her hand. "Whose dream are wewatching?" he asked.

"Pabst’s," Max replied. "G.W.Pabst’s. He couldn’t save her, either."

"Who?"

"Louise Brooks. Nobody could save her fromherself."

"Maybe she didn’t want to besaved?" Pascal asked, wondering how the hell Max knew thesethings.

"Oh," Max replied, smiling. "I never thought ofthat." It was like a load had been lifted from hershoulders.

"I didn’t think you had." He kissed hervery softly.

After that, they sat huddled together, warm andsafe, and watched the movie without sound. It was safer, somehow, towatch other people’s dreams rather than their own.

Once she was far enough removed from thenightmare, Max was willing to be led back to bed. Pascal was extragentle with her on nights like this. He made sure every touch was assoft as breath and that he listened with his body as well as hisheart. Physically, he was very strong and sometimes, it was easy togo too far too fast. He loved the effort it took not to allow this tohappen; and Max loved him for it.

"Gentle," Max whispered. "Go gently, my sweetPascal."

Pascal lowered his face to hers and kissed hertenderly. He let his tongue dance over her lips and softly touch thetip of hers. He longed to taste her deeply, but he didn’t dare.Max was too fragile. He tasted it on her breath. So he kissed herwith years of saved up tenderness.

Max responded with equal tenderness, and hertouches made him ache. The way she kissed him back made him ache.Their bodies and their hearts fit together seamlessly.

Pascal quickly learned to wall off parts of hismind. He learned that he could think beneath the beautiful layers ofemotion; he cherished thought in this place without hurt. Tonight, hedidn’t go there to think. He only hoped that Max would share alittle of her pain. He was strong. He could take her pain… Heblanketed her with his body and his need. He touched her softly withhis lips and tongue and breath and made her dance beneath him. Hesang to her in a voice that he allowed no one else tohear.

Storms never last, do they,baby?

Bad times all pass with thewind.

Max slid her hands beneath his flannelnightshirt and ran her fingertips up his spine. She brought her handsto the back of his neck and cradled his head. Her cool touch burnedhis sensitive scalp. He wanted to love her deeply.

Pascal held his own wants close to his heart.He gentled her until he heard her song, low and sweet; and her kissesbecame another kind of dance.

"I love you," he whispered.

Max was beyond answering. He loved that,too.

The pipemaster was deeply, profoundly arousedby her pleasure. He’d waited all his life for a lover as gentleas he was. With Max, there was never any ‘harder, Pascal’or worse ‘can’t you be rough for once?’ None ofthat. Max moved with him, answered him, held him as though shethought he could break. And tonight, she lost control first --; andyet, he still moved with excruciating tenderness.

Suddenly, something washed over him in thenight. It hit him like a tidal wave. Pascal instinctively accepted itfor what it was. Wordless and without thought, Max’s pain ebbedand vanished like the tide and in its place came arousal unlikeanything he’d ever known. Max pulled him to her, kissed him,gave herself to him.

"Now, Ben," she begged. "Now."

Pascal moaned. He took her fluid hands in hisand did as she asked. He could no longer differentiate their cries.Nor did he care to.

"Marry me, Max," he said.

Yes, she answered against hispalm.

Pascal held himself away from her willing bodyand fought his intense desire to take her. "When?" he asked. "Whenwill you marry, my love?"

Max’s eyes were wide with need and withlove. "When do you want me to?" she asked. She tried to pull him downagainst her but he was strong. Very strong.

"Sunday," he said. Resisting her pull wassomething he could barely manage.

"Yes," Max whimpered.

"Say it again," he hissed.

"Yes."

"When?" Pascal asked.

"Sunday," she whispered. "Now, if youwant me to."

This time, when she pulled him, Pascaldidn’t resist. He locked into their shared rhythm and he tookher.

Max slept, but Pascal could not. The afterimages from the movie disturbed him. They made him think, and thatwasn’t something he was prepared to do right now. Instead, herolled over and watched Max dream.

She slept on her back with her arm flung overher head, as though she was expecting a fight. The pipemasterdidn’t want a fight; he wanted only to extend comfort --; andhimself.

Pascal softly tapped her name inside her quietpalm. Gradually, Max returned to consciousness and smiled athim.

"Yes?" she asked, stretching. "Yourang?"

"Max, I need to know something," Pascal toldher, softly. "And I really want you to tell me the truth."

She looked a little confused. "I always tellthe you truth, Hobbit," she said.

"Max, why did you close the door?" Pascalasked. He ran his fingers across her furrowed brow.

"I closed it because I had to," Maxreplied.

"Did you close it out of anger?"

She reached for him and held him close. "Isthat what you think?" she asked, her hands framing hisface.

Pascal shook his head No.

"No," he said. "I don’t think you‘dever do anything like that."

Max slid her arms around his thin shoulders andsoothed his aching muscles with her touch.

Pascal responded to her caress. He smoothed thecurls out of her eyes and said, "Your hair is getting so long." Helet the curls trail through his fingers and back across her forehead;and he traced the curve of eyebrows. "Why did you close the door sosoon?"

"I had to make a choice," Max said. Her eyesnever left his. "So I chose. That’s all there is toit."

"Did somebody make you choose, Max?"

Pinned beneath his body, she had nowhere to go,so she looked away.

"Max," he said. "Who made youchoose?"

"I chose," she said, still looking away."Let’s leave it at that."

Pascal put his fingers beneath her chin andgently turned her face to his. When he kissed her, he tasted herfear. "You don’t have to tell me," he whispered. "I’mpretty smart. I can figure things out for myself."

"I never meant to imply that youcouldn’t," Max replied, softly. She buried her face in the crookof his neck. Her breathing was very shallow. "Just know that in anygiven situation, I will choose you over all else."

"And I you," Pascal replied. He slid his armsbeneath her back and held her very close. He rolled them both, sothat Max was lying on top of him. He reached back and arranged theirpillows; and he invited her closeness with a leadingcaress.

Max settled into the crook of his arm andgently rested her hand over his heart. I love you, she coded.I just love you. And she smiled with her fingertips, the wayshe did the first time they touched.

Pascal smiled with his whole being. He broughthis hand up and lightly placed it over hers. I love you, too,Moxie.

"I like it when you call me that," shewhispered, nuzzling his neck.

"It suits you," Pascal replied, laughing. "Doyou know what it means?"

"I think it was a soft drink," shesaid.

"That too," the pipemaster replied. "Butit’s old slang for guts or more aptly chutzpah." Andcourage, he thought. Which you seem to have in abundance.

Max laughed. Laughing, she kissedhim.

Pascal still tasted fear, but not as strongly.He sighed and gentled her into his embrace and pulled the quilts uparound them. "You sleep now," he told her. "I’ll lie awake andchase away the nightmares."

"Yes, Ben," she murmured. "Please dothat."

Gradually, the fear left her body and Max fellasleep with her head on his chest and the rest of her sprawled moreor less on top of him.

Pascal would never ask again, because deep downin his heart he knew. Father used the lead pipe failure tocorner Max and force her hand --; literally. The pipemaster held thathand in his and wondered how many doors she closed for him; and heprayed he was worth it.

Max smiled in her sleep.

Pascal stopped by Vincent’s chamber afterhis second shift on the line. He quietly asked his friend to performthe ceremony. This was highly irregular, but not unheard of. Fatherwasn’t all together liked.

"I just can’t make Max stand in front ofthe old man," the pipemaster said. "It would hurt her. I won’tbe party to that."

Vincent nodded. "I understand," he replied. Hiseyes were very sad. "I’ll do this for you."

For a brief moment, Pascal wondered if hewasn’t the only one who felt Max’s pain in the night. Heshrugged the thought away.

"Father can be harsh," Vincent said. "And heand Max seem to have agreed to not to agree, so to speak."

The pipemaster shuddered.

"You’re cold!" Vincent said. "Have sometea."

Pascal wasn’t cold, but he accepted thetea anyway. "Vincent, what if the pipes were knocked out of alignmenton purpose?" he asked.

"Why on earth would anybody dothat?"

"I don’t know," Pascal replied. "But whatif, Vincent? What if?"

At three o’clock on the morning of thewedding, Pascal found himself trying to explain that some traditionscouldn’t be broken. "I’m not supposed to see you in yourdress before the ceremony," he told her. "It’s badluck."

"It’s only a dress, Pascal," she snapped."It’s not like you haven’t seen it before."

"It’s tradition, Max," he replied,firmly.

"But this is tradition, too! And who will paintmy hands?" Max wailed. "It’s supposed to be done by my closestrelative --; and you’re the closest thing to a relativeI’ve got!" She was in such obvious distress that Pascalcouldn’t say no.

All of his life, he’d hated the smell ofhenna. It made him think of the days when Mary used to dye fadedjeans in a huge vat. They came out a hideous blue earth color thatdidn’t show dirt but also dyed everything else they came intocontact with --; including skin. The concept of painting Max’sbeautiful hands with the stuff bordered on travesty.

She opened a book that appeared to be writtenin Sanskrit and pointed at an elaborate Celtic design. "It’ssimple," she said, tapping the page. "Make them look likethat."

"Max, I work with pipes," Pascal said."I’m not an artist."

She slipped her dress over her head and saidsomething about "anybody can paint swirls."

"If you say so."

Max swiftly buttoned the approximately twomillion buttons that ran up the side of the dress and looked at himas though he was being impossibly recalcitrant and impossibly male."Pascal, just make filigree gloves on the backs of my hands," shesaid.

She did not mention that the fact said "gloves"would take weeks to wear off and therefore had to be passablyattractive.

"You paint it on and then set it with the hairdryer," Max told him. "It’s not like I’m asking you toperform brain surgery."

She spread out a layer of newspapers on top ofthe writing table and set the paint and brushes out on top of it. Shepulled up two chairs and sat down in one of themexpectantly.

Pascal sat next to her and touched her facelightly. "I like your hands the way they are, Max," he said. "Is thisso important to you?"

Max gave him one of her devastating smiles andhe knew he’d give in. He argued a little more, but he gave in.He even had to admit that there was something intensely erotic aboutpainting her hands.

"That’s because you’re symbolicallysealing the power in," she told him. "My palms areunencumbered but I give them only to you. In my world, the tattooswould communicate that to other techs."

"Oh," said Pascal. He was blushing, because hedid understand. Implicitly.

"My people are very superstitious," Max wenton. "When a tech marries, it’s said that the hands seal thebond. And the tattoos seal the power."

He nodded and thought how amazingly beautifulher hand looked under the tip of his brush --; and how the rich darkfiligree seemed to become part of her lace sleeve and how he was thepainter and she was the canvas.

"I told you it was simple," she said, watchingthe effect slowly spread.

"It’s not simple, Max," Pascal replied."It’s sensual."

Max leaned in and kissed him.

He laughed and said: "Do you want me to finishthis or do you want to make mad monkey love? The choice isyours."

After pretending to give the question muchthought, she raised her eyebrow and said: "Finish thetattoos."

"All right, then. Let’s keep itprofessional, Maxine."

Max pressed her knees lightly against his andsmiled. Pascal smiled back; and he kissed her. After that, they bothfell into a warm silence that filled the room and deepened as thehours passed. The pipemaster understood that he was painting amemory; and that the memory would last for the rest of theirlives.

"You really do have beautiful hands," Pascaltold her, softly.

She trembled under his touch. "Thank you, Ben," she replied.

"Max, you’re blushing."

"I am?"

"It’s okay. So am I."

The vows were simple. Vincent read them in hiscalm, beautiful voice, but Pascal did not hear them. His ears and hiseyes and his heart were full of Max and the way she smiled when heslipped the ring on her henna-laced finger. Entire worlds livedinside that smile.

"You’re so beautiful," she said. And shekissed him.

Everybody in the room cheered. EvenFather.

Pascal wanted the moment to go on forever; andit almost did. Max smiled as she kissed him. Time opened and theydisappeared inside. He looked at his world from another, warmerplace. He thought he saw people in the mist --; faces from the pastand from the future. He imagined they were smiling.

"Pascal, are you happy?" Max asked.

"Yes," Pascal replied.

And she kissed him.

There was cake, of course, and there was music.And for an afternoon, the tunnels over-flowed with joy.

Pascal knew it was late. He knew he should beasleep, but it was so sweet to lie awake and dream. Max slept in hisarms, her fingertips coding something undecipherable against hisshoulder. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissedher palm and felt it grow warm under his tongued caress. He felt herawaken and move into his touch.

"What a nice way to wake up," Max murmured. "Sogentle."

The way she said the word gentle arousedhim. Max was the only woman Pascal had ever known who found hisgentleness erotic. She didn’t fight it. Instead, she met it, andanswered him in kind. Loss of control was no longer something to befeared but to be treasured. Max rolled on top of him and he felt herheart pounding against his chest.

"Did you really marry me today?" she asked. Hervoice was so warm and so low.

"Yes," Pascal answered. "Oh, yes." He kissedMax with a passion that came from deep inside; it was a passionuntapped until he first gave himself to her. He trailed his handsdown her sides in rhythm with his tongue and tried not to shudderwhen she slid her hands beneath his back and lifted him to her. "Ilove how you touch me," he whispered.

Max answered with a kiss so soft he lostcontrol.

Pascal heard himself plead, heard his voice begher to take him. He was crying. And Max was tasting his tears,caressing him with her tongue and fingers and breath. Her bodyaccepted his as if she had been made for him. He rode the waves ofshared passion with hunger and with love.

Pascal felt so light, he could float a way. Theonly thing holding him earthbound was the soft weight of Max’sslight being and her love. It had always been her love. It liberatedhim and it chained him to her. Only to her.

He was vaguely aware of her hands lightlyholding his. He felt warmth escalate to heat. He tasted her sweetbreath. Now, he thought. Now. Pascal’s small body was wrackedwith undeniable pleasure.

Inside the palm of his hand, he heard herwords. I love you.

Unable to form rational thought, he tightenedhis hand around hers, caught her gaze, and tried to convey with allhis heart that he felt the same way about her.

Max smiled and kissed him so very deeply hebegan to cry again. His need was so great and her tongue was soperfect against his. He could no longer hold back his passion and hetook her.

Gently, he took her. Deeply, he took her. Andhe gave himself to her completely.

Pascal shuddered uncontrollably beneath her andcried out her name. Her hands came to his comfort and to his rescue.Her touch brought to the surface all the words he wanted to say andcould not.

"I love you, Max," he said or thought or said."I’ve never been this happy in my life. I want to give myself toyou until there’s nothing left inside."

He felt her lips on his. And her words cascadedover him like warm, gentle rain. He couldn’t understand them,but he knew they were beautiful.

2"Walkin' Blues" by Robert Johnson.

3Ballad of Lucy Jordan by Shel Silverstein.Published by Essex Music. ©1974

4Too Much Water ©1993 by C.Caffey, R.Caffey & B. Carlisle. Virgin Music.

5Air You Breathe by David White and DonnaWeiss, Warner Chappell Music ©1992 by Virgin RecordsLimited.

6Storms Never Last words and music by JessiColter. ©1978