Disclaimer: KISS, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons are real persons, and this story is not meant to harm or demean them in any manner. It is a work of fiction. Trynia Merin and other characters are property of the author. Rated R for sexual content and language, so no readers under 18 please.

Her return to so called normal life was fraught with frustrations, yet tempered with the realization that this was not forever. Something else most likely and in all probability was. The fact that she was in love, and she was happy. Extremely and ecstatically happy.

Both she and Paul had made the trip east to Philly. ON the flight, there they discussed last minute plans until they would next get together. He had the auditions for Phantom that week.

"You sure you don't want to spend a few days in NYC while I show them my stuff?" he asked her, nudging her hand.

"Paul I have to get back early. Besides, I need to register for classes, even though it's all research, and get my teaching assignment for the semester!"

"Just let me know.... I'm still trying to finalize the plans for our place in the Poconos. So far, they've had another offer. But I'm sure we can get it..."

"I'm glad you picked PA instead of Jersey," she told him. "It's the nicest place, remote, private..."

"My three favorite words except the ones I most love saying to you, baby," Paul purred in her ear.

"Well it's only a few days right? Didn't you say it would take a week to get stuff moved out there?"

"Yeah," Paul laughed. "I wanna make sure I actually own the place first.... And did you talk to Sharmane?"

"I sure did. I want to make sure she is cool with it all."

"Don't forget the surprise I made sure was waiting for you..." he whispered, referring to the lovely white Mercedes waiting for her at the airport when she disembarked from her flight. Paul had mentioned that it was being delivered so she could drive it home. Although it was only for a short time, she knew it would be difficult to return to real life. He would get on his connecting flight to NYC when they landed, and then it was life as usual until next he called.

Such happiness permeated every action. When she showed up for research a few days before the start of the semester, Melanie noticed the shy smile on Trynia's face. In her walk was a slow graceful sway that had not been their before, accompanied by an erect and confident posture even more dramatic then before. Carefully selected outfits were the norm now instead of baggy sweatpants and battered sneakers. On her lips was a song that Melanie could not recognize as anything contemporary.

"Trynia, do you have the ethyl acetate?" Melanie called.

"Sure," Trynia called back. She grabbed the large tan bottle and lugged it over to Melanie in the rubber-carrying bucket. Setting it down, she smiled.

"Thanks a lot girlfriend... say, could you put something else in to play in the lab? This Limp

Bizcuit stuff just isn't doing it for me anymore..."

"Mind if I play some of my music?" Trynia asked.

"Go right ahead," Melanie encouraged. Trynia strode over to the portable CD boom box and slipped the one CD out. She pulled out her small case of CD's and flicked through them. Finally she selected one she liked, KISS KILLERS, and popped the disk in the tray.

Immediately an upbeat rock song pounded through the lab. Melanie couldn't help but tap her toes to it when the male vocal shot through in a throaty strong voice. She had to admit it was very sexy, and explained Trynia's improved dance while she swirled the reaction flask in front of her own hood. On top of the hood she began to tape pictures of Paul Stanley in various poses, even taping pictures of the band KISS on the back of her fume hood where some people attached various personal designs. ON her own, Melanie had put images of Stone Cold Steve Austin, and one or two of the guys from Red Hot Chili peppers.

"What are you doing girl, to your hood?" she joked.

"Just brightening it up a little," Trynia explained, as she taped up the last Paul picture, one of him in a top hat with a particularly pouty expression on his starchild countenance. Near that, she taped a picture of all four guys in a line and the logo Y2KISS for the millennium.

Melanie burst out laughing when she saw it, then felt her heart stop at the sleek sexy vision in black with an electric guitar over one shoulder that she had just put up over her desk to one side. "Oh man you have gone nuts!" Melanie laughed.

"I can't help it. Paul's irresistible. So are all my guys," Trynia grinned.

In the middle of this decoration, Art walked in. He gave a slow whistle as he saw what Trynia was doing to her desk and fume hood. "Woo, all right," he laughed. "Since WHEN are you a KISS fan?"

"Since now. I thought you knew!" she said.

"If I didn't know it before there's no doubt about it now. Damn girl why didn't you put your guys up before?"

"Well if I had known you were a fan I wouldn't have waited so long," she laughed.

"Although you're missing some Demon from the equation," he said.

"Oh don't even start that rap," she joked back. She noticed something black on his upper arm when he pulled off his labcoat.

"Wait, what's that?"

"You act like you've never seen me in shortsleeves," he grinned.

"I haven't. I mean why today, and what is that on your upper arm may I ask?"

Streaking down one arm, she saw the tribal swirls and jagged lines in solid black. "I just got these while you were away in sunny LA with your boyfriend..."

"Nice... but that..." she said, pointing to the Demon icon overtop of it that peeked out from his shoulder. He laughed.

"You never asked," he teased back. Melanie rolled her eyes and laughed.

"And if you're going to play the guys, may I suggest something more hard edged?" he asked. He grabbed his own CD collection and pulled out a bootleg CD of the Anaheim concert from 1977. She heard the live cheer rip through the lab when he cranked it up loud. Obviously someone who loved the band's earlier days. Why had he waited until now to let her know what a big fan he was?

"Nice, C'mon and Love Me," she laughed. "You have good taste in music sir!"

"So, did you have fun in the sun?" he asked her.

"Oh yes..."

"With Stanley?"

"Yes," she said, and felt a hot flush go through her. If he was a KISS fan like herself did he suspect what had really happened?

"Uh Art, is there something I'm totally missing sweetie?" she asked, moving over to him as she slipped her arms around him from behind. "Speaking of KISS, why the heck didn't you give me one hello!"

"Sorry," he said, turning to her and giving her a soft touch of the lips. Trynia felt embarrassment flood over her and a fear that she had been discovered. She felt his hand come down on her shoulder, and his voice in her ear asking, "What's wrong Tryn? You look spooked..."

"Yes, I did have a good time in California," she said, turning around to face him. "One of the best I've ever had..."

"You're really in love with this Stanley aren't you?" he said.

"I love him..."

"That's great... really," he said. "I just am glad to see you coming back here out of your shell girl. I was starting to worry that you were going to be some shy case Mel and I were going to have to drag to the bar for a few introductory drinks tonight. But here you are, playing rock and roll and hanging up pictures of the Hottest Band in the World... you're a re in love!"

"It's good to see," Melanie agreed. "Really good to see that you're with us. But don't freak out every time we ask you a question! Art wasn't the Spanish Inquisition..."

"Aha, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Art said in his best Monty Python voice. Melanie groaned and grinned.

"Well obviously you two had fun when I was gone," Trynia teased them. "Getting a new tattoo Art, and introducing your woman to Monty Python!"

"This is an Ex parrot!" she laughed. "I LOVED that skit... the dead parrot...."

"Well I was initiated to Monty Python when I saw my parents watching it late night," Trynia grinned. "And they could swear I was running around singing the Lumberjack song at the top of my lungs before I even knew what I was singing..."

"That and Take me?" Art teased.

"Well actually I was singing Plaster Caster when I was that age too much to my parents dismay..." she laughed back.

"Oh man that's even worse!" Art groaned.

"Hey, when does Dr. Evans finish that teaching assistant schedule?" Melanie asked.

"Uh I heard him say today," Art announced. "I saw him on the way here..."

"Speaking of here, you're here a little late," Trynia teased him. "Twelve Noon!"

"Hey I had to schmooze with the advisor," he laughed.

"Dr. Goyette wants to see both of you ladies when you have free time... he told me we were getting a new addition to the group..."

"Great! Who?"

"One of the Indian students. Supreet..." he said.

"Oh your Inorganic Chemistry pal," Trynia teased him.

"As I recall, she helped us BOTH through that course," Art joked back.

"She's a goddess of Chemistry! She helped me through Organic," said Melanie with appreciation.

"Well she's joining our group, and we have to help her get oriented," Art announced. "That was the other thing I was gonna say before I saw the KISS army soldier come out of the Closet!"

Trynia laughed. Perhaps he was an ally after all, in more ways then she expected.

"Can't you come with us to meet Carlie at Smith-Kline?" Supreet asked Trynia.

"I'm sorry Supreet, I can't... I have my first day of teaching for Dr. Davis, and from what I can guess he doesn't like people to be even five minutes late..."

"But she invited the whole research group," Supreet pouted.

"I know, but I can't risk it..."

"Well you could ride with us," Melanie suggested. "I mean you're going, right Art?"

"I can't. I promised Dr. Sloeman I'd run some carbo tests for him and I just can't drop it," art said.

"But you promised!" Supreet urged him. "Surely you can do it later?"

"Look, I can't girl. Have fun without me... schmoozing with the gainfully employed!" he joked. Moving out of the room he waved goodbye.

"I have to go now," Trynia said apologetically.

"Carlie wanted us all to enjoy," the Indian student protested. "It'll all be fun if there are more people..."

"She'll have to be disappointed," Trynia said firmly. "I have responsibilities..."

That first day at Teaching assisting, for the biochemistry lab was easy, but the lab met twice a week, and she was expected as part of her duties to prepare the reagents for the week.

Dr. Davis' lab was on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That gave her Monday, Wednesday and Friday to perform research. Each Friday she had blocked out to prepare the necessary reagents to get a head start. However, she found that this strategy would not work, due to Dr. Davis' particular schedule. He insisted she see him personally each Monday to discuss what reagents to make for that week. It put a crimp in her style, especially when she had gotten the reagent list from the stockroom.

The proverbial milk had soured first when she informed Dr. Davis that she had all the list of reagents from the previous graduate student who had assisted the course. Eager and feeling on top of the situation she had announced, "Well Dr. Davis I have the list from last year, from Dr. Pulasky when he taught the course, and I will prepare each in advance..."

Frostily Dr. Davis fixed his gaze into hers. She shivered a bit, as his stare seemed to pierce hers and he announced back, "Dr. Pulasky has his method of teaching for biochemistry, and I have mine. You will kindly refer to me each Monday where I will provide you with my list of the reagents you are required to prepare..."

"But sir, I heard that the reagents were the same..."

"Ms. Merin, I am the teacher of this course, Not Dr. Pulasky," he returned coolly. "Now, if you need to reach me I am available at nine AM tomorrow."

Wednesday's research passed without event, and she had the reagent list in hand when she went to meet Dr. Davis that evening. His office was in the corner of the department hallway, and she had to knock to see if he was in.

"It's open," he called out.

"I'm here to prepare the reagents," she said.

"Did you read the lab report?"

"I haven't gotten a chance to yet sir," she apologized. He sat cattycorner to the computer where a protein molecular screensaver floated. Piles of lab notebooks sat on his floor, beside a huge bookcase filled with neatly arranged rows of biochemistry text and reference books. The top of his desk was immaculate, piles arranged according to type and style.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Well I've been doing my research...."

"I would appreciate in future if you took time to read the lab. How can you expect to understand how to prepare the reagents if you do not know how they will be used? Our first lab is tomorrow afternoon."

"I can prepare the reagents tonight or early tomorrow," she attempted a compromise.

"That will be acceptable... for now," he said matter of fact. "But because I am willing to over look this oversight once I will inform you as to what the lab is about..."

It had taken a painful half-hour of listening to his lecture before she had her reagent list. Sighing she took the list and decided to block out her week in an effort to stay ahead of herself. It would not be easy.

Thursday was a flurry of activity as she finished the last reagent and placed it out. Dr. Davis was there early, tapping his watch well before lunch.

"I've prepared all the reagents, Professor," she announced, placing the icebucket of buffers to keep them chilled.

"Why didn't you put out new pipette tips?" he asked, opening the drawer and pointing to the empty containers that were clearly absent of the plastic tips used in the automatic units.

"Uh you had not informed me that was part of my duty," she tried. His disapproving stare gave her the impression that this was not the right answer.

"Do I look as if I have time to attend to this?' he asked with a hint of sarcasm. "You are the teaching assistant. You should have the presence of mind and experience to ask what your duties are if you are in any doubt as to them..."

"I apologize," she said, meeting her gaze with his. "I'll rectify the situation now..."

"Make sure you do so..." Dr. Davis nodded. "You must have everything ready to go for the students. Have you read the lab?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good."

The first lab was a calibration experiment; to set up the spectrometers for enzyme assays the following week. Pipettes would be calibrated also, and she soon saw the need for the small boxes of tips to be filled. Already she felt ill at ease, as if Dr. Davis did not suffer fools gladly, and she was already a few counts behind on making a good impression.

Many times a day that first week her mind tracked back to the day that she and Paul had parted. It had been another emotional goodbye, but Trynia was prepared this time, because she knew it was only a temporary separation. Paul had many pieces of business to take care of before they could reunite.

Trynia pondered all these things until four thirty that evening finally arrived and she sent the students out. Dr. Davis bade her a crisp good night, leaving her to clean the lab. When he had finally left, and she could leave herself, the band of tightness across her chest loosened considerably. All the while that day she hadn't even noticed it was there!

Cranking up her stereo in the new white Mercedes, she drove back to the apartment she shared with Sharmane. The route up the front stairs and into the hallways she knew as well as the windings and chambers of Paul's home, and the realization struck her as strange. IT seemed as if this small two-bedroom apartment was far too confining now compared to what she had left.

The message light on the phone flashed up, and she smiled at the sound of his voice coming through, "Hey baby, guess who? I called and I guess you were at the chem lab. I've got great news! The house is ours! I'll have them ship the stuff ASAP. Let me know if you can join me in NYC this weekend or not? Bye and I love you!"

She smiled and read the number. Quickly she dialed his cellphone and waited. She wasn't' surprised when there was no response, so she settled down at her books to research for her next experiment. Still holding the phone she left Paul a message, "Hello, Paul? I think I just missed you, or you would have picked up. This weekend I have to knuckle down in the lab, but next weekend if you're still in NYC I'll be happy to drive out to meet you. Dr. Davis and I didn't get off on the right foot, but hopefully I'll get on his sunnier side next week. Love you!"

Tuesday found her back in the biochemistry lab again, wandering along the lines of lab benches where the upper level chemistry majors worked. Small boxes with dials sat to every pair, with a rack of test tubes at the ready. One student would mix the reagents for the color assay, while the other would insert the test tube into the instrument and read the absorbency of the sample. It was a calibration assay, checking the levels of zeroing on the ancient spectrometers.

"Take the next group upstairs to the newer spectrometer I have in my lab," Dr. Davis instructed her. "So they can compare their individual calibrations..."

"Right Professor," she nodded, repositioning her lab goggles over her glasses. Waiving to three students, she bade them follow her up the flight of stairs to the second floor of Mendel hall, where the individual professor's research labs were.

She opened the door and saw the instrument sitting on the bench. It was far more sophisticated then the older models on each benchtop, tied into a computer with digital printouts. To her dismay, there were a few added options here, and she and the students spent an interesting time figuring out how to print out.

Finally the instrument cooperated, and each student got their printouts. She sent them down to ask the next group to return, glancing over the instrument in a effort to see what the settings were. It was like many she had seen before in her own experience, and she felt confident they had all known it correctly.

Three more students joined her, and the series of measurements flew by. Group by group they came, until it was the end of the afternoon. Trynia turned off the instrument when the last group left, and returned downstairs to find Dr. Davis picking up the stacks of lab notebooks.

"I need to talk to you, Ms. Merin," he said, gaze fixing into hers.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Why didn't you inform me you were not familiar with my spectrometer upstairs?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, wondering why he seemed disappointed, judging from the frown spreading across his face.

"I was curious as to why the first group took twice as long as the following groups. Some of the students mentioned the instrument seemed to be malfunctioning, and that it took a time to get the settings right..."

"Well we figured it out. I've used a spectrometer like that as an undergrad in another college," she said.

"Why didn't you familiarize yourself with it before the lab today?"

"Well I didn't anticipate any problems," she said, wondering if this was making matters worse.

"You should have. It's your job as a teaching assistant. To anticipate any questions a student might ask, and if you have any doubts as to how to operate an instrument, you should have informed me before wasting the student's time..."

"Excuse me sir, but I felt I was capable of instructing them in the use of the equipment. Often times the principle's the same, even if the instrument is slightly different..."

"That is not acceptable. What if you had broken it?"

"Then you shouldn't have trusted me to use it..."

"I assumed when you said you had read the lab, that you were adequately prepared. Obviously you were not," he responded. "Next time, I expect this will be remedied..."

"Yes professor," she half growled in frustration. Sighing, she strode out of the lab and pulled her goggles off.

Sharmane met her when she came out into the hallway, and noticed the crestfallen stance of her friend. Stooped over, face screwed into a frown, Trynia muttered a hello to her roommate. Concerned, Sharmane followed her down the hall, asking, "Try, what's wrong? It looks like he told you to jump off a cliff!"

"He chewed me out for not asking him if I had any questions about the instrument in his lab! I've used spectrometers before! It was just a little problem, and the students and I figured out the right setting!"

"So why's dr. Davis po'd then?" she asked.

"I don't know..."

"Seems to me like they leaned just as much figuring out that instrument with you," she muttered back.

"Yeah," Trynia muttered. "Look I just want to go home and forget about it. Want a ride?"

"Sure," Sharmane nodded. "Especially in your nice new Mercedes!"

Trynia heard the vibration from her cell phone, and pulled it out of her lab coat pocket. "Hello?" she asked.

"Hey baby! Guess what?" Paul's voice spoke over the crackling.

"Paul! I'm so glad it's you," she sighed with relief.

"Your boyfriend?" Sharmane teased when she saw the light in Trynia's eyes.

"Shh," Trynia waved her away.

"Who was that?" Paul asked.

"Just Sharmane..." she groaned.

"Tell her I said hi," Paul laughed.

"Stanley says Hi," Trynia said to Sharmane. She waved back.

"It's great to hear you baby. Look, the movers came today and as I speak, they are moving the stuff into our retreat. I was wondering... did you have anything you had to do tomorrow?"

"Well just research."

"I would love it if you could zip up and meet me there tonight," he said. "I really miss you and I want to see you again!"

"Are you sure it's okay for me to come over... I mean if they aren't finished moving in yet..."

"Well it's kind of hard for you and I to have dinner together in our new place if you're not there, right baby?"

"Dinner? Sounds great! But you're sure it's okay?"

"They got here early this morning, and they'll be done by the time you get up here... I can't wait for perfection. I really want you to be here tonight... please?"

"All right then, I'll be there..."

"You sure you can find it all right?"

"I've driven past the address at least once to see it! And if I get lost I'll send up a flare!" she joked.

"Great! Now don't' waste any more time, get your friend home and get your cute little buns in that Mercedes and point it north," Paul laughed.

Sharmane all but hastened Trynia out the door the moment she was let off. She didn't even stop very long to get ready and take care of other pressing business.

"Go see your man!" Sharmane told her as Trynia grabbed her case and rushed downstairs back to the Mercedes. Soon she was underway toward 476 North, the Blue Route that would convey her to her eventual destination.

The Blue route took her to 78 and 22 East, to 33North toward the poconos. On either side the snow gleamed on the gently rolling mountains, normally clothed in green during the spring. Her stereo blared Coming Home to You from her CD player, and she laughed at the moment the exit came into view when the song clicked on. All directions were clearly marked from the Mapquest site she had run earlier that week to the town that was her final destination.

She pulled off the exit, and drove through the mountain vacation town. Normally this time of year it functioned as a ski resort, bustling with tourists. SUV's and 4 by 4's were all parked along the sides of the street near the local B and B and the entrances to the ski lodges. Victorian homes lined the cozy avenues, whispering of a time long gone; yet captured for the sake of nostalgia now.

Trynia pulled up on the street in front of a small Victorian, Italianate style home, the SOLD sign replacing the For Sale by Century 21. Already a moving van was pulled in behind a Porsche, silver in color. She laughed and realized this must be Paul's car, even if it was a rental. A porch wrapped around the front of the house, where a portico demarcated the passage to the 2-car garage. Two and a half stories rose into a peaked roof alongside a six-sided tower on one corner. Gable windows were on the upper level, with gingerbread latticework along the top of the roof to the chimney.

Green trim eyebrows graced over each window, save the six sided tower merged to the front side. Cream and leaf green trim, all neatly painted and new greeted her as she strode up the walkway. When she knocked on the brass doorknocker, she saw the central glass doorknob amidst the four panes of beveled glass. It swung inward to reveal Paul standing right in the doorway, a huge smile lighting up his face.

"Welcome home you!" he held out his arms to receive her. She smiled and felt him grip her up in his strong grasp. Arm around her waist he led her inside. She gasped at the hardwood staircase leading up from the entry. He walked her past moving boxes to the small kitchen pantry, showing her the newly remodeled appliances. To one side was the breakfasting nook, opening onto the cozy living room with its entertainment center.

"Now upstairs," he laughed, taking her hand and leading her up the two flights to the second floor. Trynia grinned at the creaky steps underfoot to the first door. It was a small bathroom, with an old style clawfoot tub and shower. There was a sink and commode, and a modest medicine cabinet, all with new brass fittings. To one side, he showed her a small writing area, in the tower, where there was an antique rollup desk, and several comfortable chairs.

"I turned that room into my music room. And the desk is yours for when you write that research paper..." Paul grinned. He showed her the laptop computer resting on the desk, and she smiled. On a stand was a Washburn, near a small Marshall amp. She saw his Ibanez Iceman guitar handing on the wall near one or two gold records, and other musical posters in the room.

Next was the bedroom, which took up the whole half of the second floor, one corner dominated by the six-sided tower. It opened onto a full hexagonal window seat lined with benches. She saw the generous bed, and recognized it from one of his guestrooms! A queen sized brass bed, with the extended poles supporting a thin veil of lace chemise that hung down on either side for effect. Two dressers and a good-sized wardrobe provided clothing storage, in the Victorian style.

"Lovely," she smiled. "Looks like you took the furniture from the guestroom!"

"It works well enough baby. And sorry about the smaller bed... this place wouldn't accommodate a king..."

"But that means we'll cuddle closer," she smiled.

"Ready for dinner? I threw something together quick... and it should be ready..."

"You actually got them to finish before I showed up?" she laughed. "What's on the top floor?"

"That's a surprise for later tonight," he winked at her. "Although there is a guestroom up there with its own bathroom... it has a second purpose... but let me show you the dining room and the parlor..."

"Aww it's so nice..."

"Well I'm not completely unpacked actually. How would you like to go out for dinner. I know a great Japanese place..."

Bennihanna's in the small resort town was bustling that night with patrons. Paul and Trynia were led to one of the tables ringing a large grill. Before their eyes, the chef grilled their pepper steak and chicken to make teriyaki. Paul had ordered sake, and they relaxed a little bit as they watched their dinner being cooked.

"So, what do you think of the house?" he asked her. There came a sizzling as the chef added bean sprouts and mushrooms to the mass of steaming food.

"It's very cozy," she said, inhaling the aroma of the teriyaki spices. "I love that it's not so big that I would get lost..."

"I realize it is a little small, but I figured it's a nice nest to relax in..."

"Excuse me, sir, but would you like a drink?" the waiter interrupted.

"Yes, two glasses of Sake please," Paul said.

"And a diet coke?" she asked hopefully. Paul nodded and handed the drink list back to the waiter who took it promptly.

"I love it...." she assured him. Paul smiled and clasped her hand in his.

"Honey, tell me a little bit about how the school is going? You said you are done with classes?"

"Yes, I have to research, and that's my class. But I also have to teach two labs this semester for my teaching job. "

"I thought you had to teach three," Paul said.

"Well I also have to make the reagents for this. It's an upper level chemistry lab, biochemistry. It meets twice a week, and the reagents are more complicated then basic general chemistry."

"Jeez, is that something you can handle... surely it is because you told me an organic chemist makes chemicals all the time, right?" Paul asked.

"Yes, but this particular professor wants me to do it his way."

"Couldn't you ask someone who teaching assisted the lab before to help you?"

"I tried that Paul, but when I told the professor I was going to do that, he chewed me out and informed me that he had to be the one to give me the list. Because he was the teacher this year."

"Oh man, that's a bummer," Paul groaned in sympathy, squeezing her hand. Gently he rubbed the back and lifted it to his lips to kiss.

"I've tried so far to be diplomatic..."

A series of whispers broke her attention and Paul glanced over at a neighboring table. Several people where whispering and pointing in his direction. Trying not to pay too much attention, Paul brought his focus back to Trynia. He turned her chin to face him, and moved his chair closer.

"Chicken Teriyaki, Mr. Stanley?" the chef asked, placing the mass of finished food on the plate. "For you and the lady?"

"Yes, that's what I ordered," Paul nodded, a little irritated at the second interruption. He moved aside his elbow as the plates were placed in front of him. Just then, the sake arrived, and he moved his napkin onto his lap, and turned back to Trynia.

"Honey, as you were saying... this guy sounds like he's really uptight. Do you think you can handle him all right?"

"I can for now. Anywhere I go I'm sure I'll encounter anal retentive people..."

"Well just as long as you can handle it. But if he's making you feel uncomfortable, you need to say something to him, or else say something to the man in charge of the department. I want my lady treated with the respect she deserves..." Paul said.

"You're right but..."

"Oh my god, are you Paul... as in Paul Stanley?" someone interrupted them. Paul sighed a bit and turned up to look into the face of two women in their thirties. Both wore skiing sweaters, and the woman's blue eyes were fixed excitedly on Paul.

"Hi baby, what brings you here?" he asked, putting on a charming smile. "Obviously you must be a fan of distinctive taste..."

"Oh yes I saw you guys in Virginia!" she gasped. "Can I have your autograph..."

"Sure..." he said. "Anything in particular you want signed?"

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a small trading card, which Trynia recognized from the KISS skybox set. It was of Paul holding a bouquet of roses, starchild makeup. Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out a silver marker and signed his name, then turned back. "May I ask your name baby?"

"Make it out to Dottie," she said excitedly.

"Definitely," Paul smiled. A glow came over her eyes, and her knees were shaking so much that she was leaning on her friend, who couldn't utter a sound.

"There you go," he smiled. Leaning up he pressed a kiss to her cheek and her eyes glowed. "And who is your lovely friend?"

"Uh... I... uh... I'm Ms. Starchild on the list... I came up here from Alabama..." she said, her eyes feasting on Paul. "I met Dottie here through an e list and we heard you might be vacationing here... are you really doing Phantom?"

"I most certainly am. And I hope I will see you ladies at the premiere," Paul smiled. "Now, missy do you have anything you want signed now that you have my undivided attention?"

"Please... could you sign my copy of your solo CD?" Ms Starchild, who Trynia instantly remembered was a pretty woman from the e list! They had never met in person, but both had corresponded by email.

"Sure, here you go! Now I know you've got a real name baby, and I'd love to address this right to who you really are...." he said when she passed him the jewel case. Again he opened his marker and scribed the name she whispered to him. The lady almost squealed to her friend in delight, both women almost leaning on each other for support. Paul pressed a kiss to her lips as she leaned over to thank him.

Dottie noticed Trynia and recognition sprang between them. "Good heavens, Tryn... is that you?"

"Hi Dottie," she smiled. "Long time no see!"

"Trynia???" the one who called herself Ms. Starchild gasped. "You're Trynia... the Trynia from the list?"

"Yes..."

"Good God girl, you are one lucky, lucky gal!!!" she gasped, wiping tears of happiness from her eyes. "Are you two..."

Trynia blushed and nodded, and Paul smiled up to the two devoted fans. "Hey, I'll tell you what. I'm trying to have a nice dinner here with milady. But I'm so very glad you ladies took the time to say hello. Why don't you give Trynia your names and addresses and I'll make sure you get tickets to my premiere... how does that grab you..."

"OH YES!!!" Dottie nodded. "Please!!!!"

Her friend, all the way from Alabama almost fainted. But Dottie caught her just in time. Paul stood up and hugged both and urged them on their way. Trynia copied down their addresses that they quickly whispered to her.

"I already know yours," she smiled up at her friend from Philadelphia.

"You are so damn lucky!!!" Dottie whispered in fierce admiration to her. "Come and visit me girl!!!!"

Paul settled down when the two ladies exited the restaurant, and smiled at Trynia. "Now then, where were we?"

"Well you were talking to me about work," she said, trying to regain her focus.

"Has this professor done anything else to make you feel uncomfortable? If so I really wanna know..."

"Well...." Trynia admitted, and told him of the past week. Paul listened, and she noticed the frown arising into being on his face.

"But it's not that bad... I mean..."

"This man treats you like a dummy and that's no big deal?" Paul asked, his eyes darkening in concern. "I would say that he's the one with the problem, not you!"

"Paul, he's just a professor," she said. "Please don't worry. I can handle it. And anyway, if he is a problem I will speak to my advisor. Just don't think you have to get involved..."

"Well then he can get another slave," Paul snapped. "I mean you drive an hour and a half to work, just to get chewed out by some anal retentive jerk? I don't think he's worth your time!"

"True, but sometimes a person has to grin and bear the crap..." she shrugged. "I can't just run away!"

"Trynia are you sure that you really want to do this teaching assisting?" Paul asked her. "I mean if you are staying with me on weekends then you don't really need to worry about rent..."

"But Paul, my tuition is free with the teaching job," she said to him. "Full remission of tuition..."

"Well if you didn't have to teach you'd have more time to do your research, and then you wouldn't have to go in so much, right?" Paul asked her. "I mean how much is the tuition anyway?"

"Well it's a bit more then I can shell out," she said slowly. "About two or three thousand a semester..."

"Paul STANLEY? Holy crap!" someone broke in. Sighing under his breath, Paul noticed a woman hanging on her husband, at a neighboring table.

"Sweetie, leave him alone. He probably wants to be alone," her husband shushed her.

"But its HIM..." the woman said, her voice slightly slurred. Her husband pushed the air down with his hands, pursing his lips in a 'Ssh' as he winced.

"How much, honey?" Paul asked Trynia again, as he loaded his fork with a bit of food to sample it. He had hardly taken a bite when he heard his name being fiercely whispered from another side. Glancing up he noticed one or two other pairs of eyes staring in his general direction.

"Uh... three thousand dollars a semester," she repeated, taking a quick bite of her chicken teriyaki. "This is really good, you know..."

"Tryn... that's not much at all... I was thinking from the way you were talking that it was something outrageous!"

"It is outrageous for me," she said, peering right into his face. "Plus all the debts I have to pay!"

"But Tryn..." Paul said again. "I'd be more then happy to..."

"Paul... Paul Stanley... I just can't believe you're here!" someone interrupted yet again. Before Paul could even take a bite of the food speared on his fork, he turned his head yet again.

"Can I please have you sign this for me..." the male half of the other couple said.

"All right," he said slowly, taking whatever it was and scrawling his name over it. "Make sure you come to NYC to see me taking on a far different role, man..."

"Thanks man, you're the best!" the male fan gave him the thumbs up. "sorry to interrupt you and your girlfriend..."

"Don't mention it," Paul said back, biting his lip. This was getting to be annoying, he sighed. Poking the bit of teriyaki into his mouth, he nibbled on it experimentally before continuing his earlier statement.

"Honey, what if you just stopped the teaching assisting so you could work on your research full time..." Paul suggested. "That would give you enough time to do what you needed to do, without being distracted all the time. Then you and I would have more quality time together. After all if you move in with me full time then you won't have to pay rent!"

"Paul, I can't afford it! I have to put gas in my car and then I'd have to pay tuition..."

"Trynia, my love, somehow I don't think we'll be filing for food stamps any time soon. How about this... I'll pay your tuition for you. Just let me know how much and we can pay it all in advance of the six months..."

She flushed and then laughed, "Oh, yeah......right. But Paul... I just feel... guilty. Having you take care of me..."

"Guilty? Are you KIDDING? Who's idea was this? Mine!" Paul laughed.

"I know baby, but I just..." Trynia sighed. "I just can't walk away from this because of a simple misunderstanding you know. It's my stupid stubborn pride..."

"Honey, you and I are together, hopefully forever. We have the luxury now of not having to put up with anyone's crap. If this guy is standing in the way of your dreams, you don't have to stand here and take it."

"I know. But I don't want to walk away until I have good reason too. And it makes sense if I just stick it out and then you don't have to pay for anything..." she protested. Sighing Paul took another forkful of his food and nibbled on it.

"Why do you think I made all this money over the years? To sit by myself and stare at it?"

"Uh... no..." she said, sipping some of the sake. It burned through her like a wave of hot fire.

"I have more than I could ever hope for. Aaron's set for life. So are mom and dad. Please, honey, let me spend some of it on you." Paul pleaded. He washed his latest mouthful down with a sizable swig of his own sake.

"It's just so sweet of you to even offer. I really am tempted to take this, but part of me just has trouble accepting that you'd foot the bill for my education, Paul," Trynia sighed, taking his hand between hers.

"Awww, hey, don't kid yourself. I have selfish motives. A happy wife to be, a nice warm OCCUPIED bed. Heck, I play my cards right you may even give me a 10% price cut when I buy your first painting off you."

"My first what?" she asked.

"Well, you paint on the side right? Have you ever considered selling your work?"

"Uh I'm not that good..."

"Well why not? There are lots of places that need new unknown artists. Why, celebrities like me just love to buy new works of art to decorate our homes. Why...just the other day one of my pals was over at our home in the Hills, and they saw your painting... and they demanded to know who did it. Of course I told him my girlfriend did it and he wanted to know if you could do a portrait of him!"

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Alice Cooper," he said.

"Oh God..." she gasped. "Are you serious? I don't know if I could ever duplicate... I mean I don't know if I have the talent!"

"You do, if you can spend more time on developing it. Why you've got it, and I think you're terrific! Which is why I think you could sell your art seriously. I happen to know several dealers who who enter your painting in a show at..."

"Mr. Stanley?" someone else cut into his conversation.

"What?" Paul snapped. "I'm in the middle of a private conversation if you don't mind!"

"I'm sorry... really sorry to bother you..." the woman said. Paul put a hand over his face and fell silent at the apologetic look on the face of the middle-aged woman. She wrung her hands as if she had committed a horrible sin.

Trynia squeezed Paul's hand and got up from the table. She moved over to the woman and said, "Please don't go away Miss. Paul's just really tired. He's had a long day at the Majestic. Perhaps if you give me your address I'll have him send you an autographed picture..."

"I'm sorry I just..." the woman said, in tears. Paul bit his lip, wanting to rise from the table to apologize.

"Don't' worry. It's not you. It's just he was talking to me about something... I just want you to know it's nothing personal okay..." Trynia urged. "here's some paper... just write down your name and address..."

Hastily the woman complied, wiping tears from her eyes as Trynia held her shoulder. She brought her back over to the table and Paul apologized, still annoyed at the sudden interruption.

"I'm sorry baby... I'll send you a picture," he relented, squeezing the fan's hand. "But I really would like to eat my dinner in privacy, okay missy?"

"Sure... I'm sorry Paul..." the fan apologized and awkwardly slunk away.

"Damn I hate that, but I just can't think straight," Paul sighed, resting his head in his hands. "The point I was trying to make Trynia is have you ever considered why you want to be a chemist? Is it your dream? Is it what you want to do with the rest of your life? I really want to know..."

"It's the best way to make a living. I don't' know if I can rely on my painting to make any money Paul," she said. "Besides, I like the chemistry lab... and working with chemicals... science excites me almost as much as art..."

"But you really are good, as a painter you know. You have as much or even more talent then half the artists that I buy work from to decorate my own place, baby!"

"Paul, please. I have already started school. I want to try this at least. Can you give up being in KISS just like that?"

"Well there are other ways I can make a living..." Paul said.

"But you have KISS to fall back on. That's what I want with chemistry. And I'm halfway through my degree! If I chuck it all to strike out in art, it will take that much longer to return and finish if art doesn't work! Did you and Gene quit in the middle of a world tour?"

"No but..."

"Mr. Stanley..." someone else interrupted yet again, just as Paul was about to take another bite of food.

Fork poised just before his lips Paul glared angrily at the offender and snapped, "Jeez gimmie a damn break! What the hell do you want?"

"My profuse apologies Mr. Stanley," the waiter gasped. "I simply wanted to know how the food was!"

Paul snapped at him, "I haven't had a chance to taste a damn thing, since it APPEARS your staff has no problem with patrons randomly coming over here and bothering us."

"Paul, easy Honey, we don't want to ruin our first night here... please?" Trynia urged, laying her hand on his thigh. "Please can we speak to your manager so we can work something out?"

"I demand to see him. I as I RECALL, I requested a table away from this chaos," Paul continued.

"I'll be right back sir... I'm very sorry!" the waiter apologized. Soon he returned with the manager, who was just as apologetic.

"Mr. Stanley, I must apologize for the intrusion," the manager started.

"Well you should have thought of that before I keep getting harassed!" Paul snapped.

"Sweetheart, please. Look sir, Could we please have a table that's less in the line of fire?" Trynia asked. "Somewhere more private for just the two of us? Do you have something like that available?"

"Yes, of course Mrs. Stanley," the Manager nodded, and gestured to them and the waiters. "Follow me... bring their food..."

Sighing, Paul helped Trynia out of her chair and grabbed their coats. The waiter gathered up their meals and followed their manager who was barking orders in Japanese to the cook. Soon they were led upstairs to a banquet room, roped off from the main area. Already a place was being set for them at a cozy table overlooking the mountains.

"That's better, much better," Paul said with satisfaction.

"Is it more to your liking?" the Manager asked. "Please, if there is anything you wish from the cocktail or desert menu it's on the house..."

"Thank you!" Paul nodded. Trynia saw him exhale as the manager and waiters rushed away after having delivered their drinks and meals.

"Paul..." she whispered. "Do you realize what he called me?"

"I know," Paul laughed, calming down a little. "Thank you for being the voice of reason baby. Now what were we discussing before we were so rudely interrupted again?"

"I have to ask you, Honey, what if you had to choose between your music and your theatre? Which do you leave behind?"

"Now why do you ask that?" Paul wondered, finally digging into the teriyaki without being interrupted.

"Well it's a fair question. If it's an inconvenience for you to be in NY, do you just go home and forget the whole thing?"

Sipping his saki, he replied, "But you don't understand. I'm doing his because it is a challenge to me and I love my work here."

Trynia nodded, "That's my point Paul. You don't need to be challenged, Paul. You can go back to LA and just dabble around in music. You don't need the money. You can just go home."

He protested, "But I love doing this, and I promised a whole ton of cast, crew, not to MENTION fans, that I'd be at the show. I can't just bow out now."

"Exactly, love. NOW you see my point." Trynia nodded. "If I back out of school now I'd have let a lot of people and myself down."

Frustrated, Paul babbled, "But it's different for me. My music and the theatre.... Well, it buys us a very nice life, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does, but I need to make sure I have something to fall back on too in case I ever need to make money to support the family."

He reached across the table and rubbed his hand over hers, "You never will. I will always take care of you."

"Paul honey, that's the problem..." Trynia sighed. "When will I grow up and be responsible? If you're always taking care of me?"

"All right sweetheart, what do you want to do then?" Paul asked. "I only want what you want. And if this is that important to you... please talk to me..."

"I think I have a solution. It will take me at least 6 months to finish my research. Can you at least give me that much time to try? I mean how many shows are you going to do with Phantom?"

"A season. 150 shows," Paul said. "And that is about six months."

"You see, perfect," she nodded. Paul sighed, and pressed his lips together as he considered this. For a time, they completed their meal in silence.

"All right, you win, honey," he nodded. "We'll give it six months. That's only fair of me... because this is so important to you..."

"Thank you," she said, taking his hand and kissing it softly like he had done to her.

"Well then, let's make a toast," he suggested, filling her small sake cup again. He raised his own, and cleared his throat, "Here's to six months of experimentation. May it bring us what we both desire... you and me baby..."

"Cheers!" she nodded, clinking her glass to his. They sipped their sake and Trynia gasped as she downed more then one sip.

"Woo... that's strong stuff!"

"Easy," he urged, patting her on the back as she coughed. "You okay?"

"Never better. So... you want desert?"

"Hmm I think I'll wait for that at home..." he winked at her. For a moment he glanced at his watch, and reached into his pocket to extract his wallet.

"Sounds perfect to me... even though they promised us a free desert..."

"Well you order something nice we can share... and ask him for the check. I gotta go take care of some business," Paul urged. "And just you go ahead and settle it while I'm gone..."

"What?" she asked, as he rose from the table and placed his wallet in front of her.

"I'll be back... I need to make a few phone calls after I answer nature's call baby..."

"But how do I pay..."

"Just put it on my card honey!"

Stunned she glanced down at the wallet placed before her. Just then, the waiter strode by and asked, "Would you care to order desert?"

"Oh yes, and after I order it could you bring me the check please?"

"Certainly," he nodded, handing her the desert menu. She tracked down the list of possible delights and selected one. Taking the menu the waiter wrote down the check.

"I'll ring this up, and bring dessert," he nodded, bowing to her. "Thank you much!"

Good grief, she thought when she peered at Paul's wallet. At first she was afraid to touch it, and simply stared at it for a few minutes while she finished her sake. Finally the waiter brought back the Death by chocolate entree and placed it before her with a tray of herbal tea and two cups.

"Thanks..." she nodded. He also put down a small plastic tray with the slip on it.

"Credit?" he asked.

"Oh yes..." she muttered, and hastily opened Paul's wallet, unsure of just what she'd find. Patiently the waiter stood there while she leafed through the plastic divider. Her hand brushed over the edges of what appeared to be cash along the side, and she took a moment to glance at just how thick the stack of green was. At one point she had recalled going to a restaurant with Terri and Gene and Paul, where Gene whipped out his wallet and paid the whole several hundred dollar check with a few bills. The gleam of a rose money clip met her eye, and she shoved the stack of hundreds back into place as she turned to the long plastic sleeve of cards.

"Good heavens," she muttered, noticing the American Express Titanium Traveler's club, followed by a Diner's Club International, a Visa Titanium Deluxe, and a MasterCard. Other cards bore the names, "McGee Entertainment," and "Simmons/Stanley Inc."

"Hem... should I return?"

"Oh no," she said, and grabbed the first card she lay her hand on. When she showed it to the waiter, he handed it back with confusion. Groaning she noticed it was one of the KISS introductory Visas.

"Oops, wrong card," she said, handing him the Diner's Club. Nodding he took the card and the slip and walked away with both. Still embarrassed she poured two cups of tea and cut the dessert into two portions for when Paul returned.

"I just need your signature here, Mrs. Stanley," the waiter said when he returned a few minutes later. Paul had still not returned.

"Are you sure I can..." she started when she saw the pen presented to her with the slip. Her eyes almost dropped out of her head when she noticed the $150.00 total. Flustered she calculated the tip and scribbled her first name on the line for signature. Since they didn't know, what would it hurt to sign his name? Adding a little star over the I in her name, she finished signing and handed the tray to the waiter.

"Thank you," he nodded, peeling the yellow copy off and handing it back to her with the card. "Enjoy dessert!"

"Ah, much better," Paul announced when he returned just a moment later. "Did you pay the bill?"

"I wasn't sure which card to use," she blushed. "Was the Diner's club okay?"

"Oh sure," Paul nodded. "Ho what's this, chocolate?"

"Yes, and tea for us to share," she smiled. He sat down and eagerly cut off a piece with the side of his fork to try.

"Baby you have great taste in desserts," he hummed with delight when he finished his mouthful. "Mmm!"

While he chewed another morsel he glanced down at the slip to see how much the bill was, and raised an eyebrow. Trynia flinched, wondering if he'd be upset at the way, she had signed her name. "Umm, I hope it's OK."

He looked again at the receipt, chuckling as he teased her, "Well, MRS. Stanley, you must have liked that waiter an awful lot. You left him $60 for his troubles."

"I'm so sorry I..." Trynia gasped, hand to her head. "Oh my god!"

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Sweetie, I think I can afford it."

"You sure?" Trynia asked, feeling her heart pounding again.

"Why don't we go home now, and talk a little bit more about this," he suggested, rising. Taking her chair back in his hand he tugged it out and offered her his other hand to help her up.

While they walked back to the car, Trynia continued to apologize for her mistake. It felt simply awful to have blundered so badly, but Paul was very genial about it. He kissed her, saying, "First of all, you must be the cutest little lady in the world, EVEN if too much saki shoots your math abilities to hell...."

"I'm A CHEMIST... I can't screw up my math!" Trynia groaned. Paul opened the door of his champagne colored Mercedes and she climbed in. He chuckled as he shut the door and walked around to the other side. She hit the button that unlocked it and he gathered his leather overcoat under him to sit down. There was a huge smile on his face as he closed the door and fastened his seatbelt. Turning the key in the ignition he slipped his sunglasses on and turned to face her.

"And secondly, let's just say you will never have to worry about the balance in our checking account."

"Good grief, you're kidding!" she groaned.

"Tryn, your dad. How much did he make?" Paul asked pragmatically. Perhaps being a scientist, she needed a more concrete concept of how much he made.

"Well, working as a manager for the restaurant he owns with his other brothers, 50 thousand a year base salary... and my mom works part time... or used to as a secretary..."

"And you and your family were well taken care of, right?"

"Yes. We had to scrimp in some things..." Trynia told him. "I mean just because we were in the restaurant business doesn't mean that we had it easy..."

"I know all about that," Paul nodded. "I worked in a deli, remember? That was a LOONG time ago..."

"And some of us had part time jobs to pay for cars if we wanted them in high school..." Trynia nodded, glad he understood the picture. "But we had enough. I mean my one brother had a paper route, and I helped out in the restaurant sometimes when we needed it. Or else, I worked in college at the library or washing test tubes some summers. Not too different from washing dishes for Dad!"

"Honey, do you have any idea how much I make?" Paul asked, continuing to drive toward their home. He pulled up into the driveway, and the lights automatically flashed on. "Any idea at all?"

"Probably several times over a millionaire," Trynia mused. The garage door buzzed upward automatically, and Paul pulled his car into the garage. Long ago the moving van had left. "Enough that you don't have to worry about expenses..."

"Yes, that's true. SEVERAL times." Paul turned to her, and turned off the engine. He unclipped his seat belt and got out.

"As much as Gene?" Trynia asked him when he opened the door for her.

"Let's just say, our last tour made about $30,000,000 and a good portion of that went to Gene and I. That's not to mention the merchandise and sales of previous albums. And that's only this tour." Paul said, helping her out of the car. They continued their conversation as they entered the house through the side door, off the kitchen.

"But didn't you go bankrupt in the eighties?

Paul groaned and opened the door for her, "That was a mess of epic proportions. We got all kinds of bad advice. Money was being wasted left and right. It was chaos."

"Oh man..." Trynia winced in sympathy. They entered and Paul closed the door behind them, locking it with the deadbolts and main lock. He took her coat and his own, hanging them carefully on the coatrack to one side of the door. "But it's not like MC hammer... Or TLC..."

"Let's just say, the Reunion, Psycho Circus and the Farewell tour have left me very comfortable." Paul said softly. They both crossed into the living room and sat down on the sofa. "I'm not telling you this to brag. I'm telling you this because I want you to feel comfortable in what you spend and what you do."

"I know that Paul. I guess I never sat down and considered the hard cold facts."

"I guess where all this comes from...all this b.s. I give you about wanting to tear you away from school and take you home.... I have the resources to take care of you. It's there if you want it."

"So no doubt you could then," she said. "I could very well never have to work again..."

He says, "Yes absolutely. However, if you want to stay at school and finish. I'll understand. I'll miss you like hell when you're working late, but I'll be there for you."

"And that's one reason to love you... as much as I do..." she smiled, leaning against his chest.

"No, sweetheart, you don't have to work. And you can leave $60 tips too." Paul winked at her, running a hand fondly through her hair. "I tell you what. Let's give it a chance, if that's what you want."

"Six months, right?" she nodded.

"Besides, it's best this way.... Probably...do I sound convincing?'

"Very convincing..." Trynia sighed, pressing her cheek to his shirt and listening to his heartbeat. "Not bad for a man who parades around on platform shoes in makeup..."

"Hmmmmmmm. I'm trying to snow myself, it appears."

"Snow? There's more then enough for you here!" she joked. Paul chuckled.

"It's probably best this way anyway. If I brought you back to LA without that degree, Terri'd chew my million dollar ass, as she calls it, into very small pieces."

"No doubt she would!" Trynia laughed. "She's like my freaking big sister! And I already have one of those!"

"She's like a damn bulldog sometimes. Gene doesn't have anything on his lady friend."

"She just clamps on and wont let go!"

"Yeah! And sometimes she moves on from nagging Gene to nagging me."

"I wonder how you and she ever hit it off?" she says, and then stopped herself... "Oh sorry!"

He grins at her. "Let's just say if Terri ever put a $60 tip on Gene's card...well, can you imagine his face?"

"Gene would DIE!"

"She'd get to endure a 20 minute lecture on compounding interest and the value of money." Paul chuckled. "Not that she'd LISTEN to him, though. She's a good match for him.

"Well Terri doesn't strike me as the sort who would try that though." Trynia nodded. "She seems as frugal and practical as he is!"

"And YOU, my dear, are a good match for me. Not Terri."

"Aww damn there you go again!" Trynia groaned. "You are just too much, Paul Stanley."

"Too much what?" he asked with a smile. "Aww hey I thought you liked my sweet talking!"

"I do. It's just that it's so sweet, coming here it's like a different world. I feel like an alien at school now... do I really deserve..."

"Don't start that again, Honey..." he teased her. "After all my hard work spoiling you..."

"Paul, this takes some getting used to..."

"Hey now, I wanna tell you a little story honey, that might make you a little more comfortable about all this. KISS had just hit it big, and I bought my first Mercedes. I was so nervous that I didn't think I even deserved that big, nice, expensive car. All I did was just sit in it for a while, and then I turned on the radio..."

"You bought yourself a car and didn't think you deserved it?"

"I'm not done, sweetie," he scolded her. "Well, to make a long story short, I heard a KISS song pop there on the radio, and it was that moment I realized I had earned the money, and I was entitled to own this car. So I never really felt guilty about how much money I made again. I know that I've busted my butt to earn it, so why not enjoy it?"

"Well this isn't my money, it's your money," she reminded him.

"Which I love being able to spend on someone I love and care about. Let me spoil you..."

"Aww Paul..."

"I'm not kidding..." Paul assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer. "And this is your home as well as mine, baby. Not my place you're staying at but OUR place..."

"Speaking of, don't I see a few boxes here and there?"

"Aww well I got the stuff moved in, I didn't say it was necessarily all unpacked," he laughed.

"Well at least you got the bed sheets unpacked," she winked at him. Paul smiled and arched an eyebrow in the direction of upstairs. He rose off the couch first, and extended both hands to clasp hers.

"Ready to get some sack time?" he asked.

"I'll say," she yawned, letting him pull her up to a standing position. "But I think I'll fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow..."

"Who said anything about sleep?" Paul joked. "Don't you have a day off tomorrow?"

"Well I did do everything to prepare for Thursday's lab. I think I can spare Wednesday..." she mused. "But don't you have to go to New York tomorrow?

"Well it's a few days before I hear the results of the audition," Paul said. "It's more like a formality, but you never know. Then opening night is this weekend... which I was wondering if you'd like to invite your friends at school to the premiere? I have six tickets reserved to you..."

"Oh god... they'd flip! Especially Artie..."

"Well bring him. Hell bring your whole lab!" Paul grinned. "And now... let us adjourn to our first night in our place... back East..."

Trynia wrapped her arms around Paul's neck and raised her lips to give him a kiss. His own arms wrapped her close, his hands gripping her hips tightly. The feel of his strong arms tight around her made her forget the troubles of her day, and she felt safe and protected now. It seemed a million miles away, and she could relax and concentrate fully on the soft, full-mouthed kiss Paul was administering to her now.

"That's it, just leave your problems behind," Paul whispered in her ear. "Relax... and just let me love you now..."

"Mm, I am," she sighed, peering deep into his eyes. He saw the desire in hers, and urged her over to the bed. It was an old fashioned sort that sat high off the floor, and he gripped her hips to help sit her on the edge, standing in front of her. Up and down her knees, he ran his hands invitingly. Paul placed her shoes on his knees and started to slip the platform penny-loafers off.

They took their time undressing each other between hugs and soft kisses. On the floor, their clothing mingled into one pile of jeans and botany 500 pants, blouse and T-shirt beneath the blouse. She savored the soft flannel sheets encasing them, Paul's warm body pressed tightly to hers in a seemingly endless embrace.

Although she missed his lustrous long hair, it was still thick and wavy, more then enough to run her hands through as she kissed him repeatedly. They caressed each other's bodies, massaging and stroking the curves and angles of each other as if for the first time. Finally when their bodies joined it was a gradual swelling of passion that erupted into a much-needed release.

She lay there for a time, cradling him in her arms as he lay down on top of her. Paul lay with his head pillowed on her chest, pressing her down under his weight. Softly his breath hit her ear, the warmth of his body an effective source of heat in the chilly room. Although her body was weary, her mind was still buzzing with the events of that day. It would be a while before she could fall asleep, but it was so nice to rest and lay there, knowing that she was all right.

Could she give up the teaching? No, not yet. She refused to think of that as an option. Wasn't being a chemist something she had wanted for a long time? Did she dare exit the lab and shed the identity it gave her? So many people defined themselves by their careers when they were at this level of education. Yet, she had never totally considered herself a scientist completely. She didn't eat, sleep and breathe chemistry as she did the art and music she so loved. Yet leaving the chemistry field was frightening, daunting. Shivering she snuggled under Paul.

He lifted his head from the bed, stroking her hair from her face as he whispered, "You cold sweetie?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you..." she started, but was stopped with his finger on her lips.

"I just can't sleep... I mean my body is tired, and my mind is spinning... it refuses to stop..."

"Mmm I guess I'm gonna have to work a little bit harder to wear you out..." he laughed, moving between her legs.

"Ohh that's a nice thought, but I just don't' think it's going to stop..." she moaned.

"What's going on in that head of yours that a body like mine can't solve?" he gently teased.

"Being an artist... Paul I've never had my work displayed. I don't' even know where I'd begin. I mean making a painting... oho is one thing... but... umm..."

"I've got a plan," Paul whispered. "And it has to do with a few friends of mine in the city. How would you feel about doing some paintings for a show?"

"Ohhh I don't know... what style?

"Your style. Abstract, realistic, or surreal. Whatever you best thing represents your work. Don't you have a portfolio?"

"I do... but it's a few years old..."

"Well do several paintings in the next few weeks, that you best think would represent your techniques. Damn, that reminds me... I have something for you..."

"What?" she asked. "What could possibly distract you from sex?"

"Mmm, sorry... give me a minute or several... several dozen..." Paul laughed. They reached another release, collapsing against each other with a satisfied sigh they shared. Then Paul raised himself up off her and reached for a bathrobe for himself, then tossed something silky at her.

"How is a bathrobe, albeit a very nice one... going to help me paint?" she asked with a laugh.

"Put it on and I'll show you," he grinned. Slipping out of bed she put the robe on, and took his hand. Paul led her out of the room and up a smaller flight of stairs to the third level of the house, which she realized she had totally forgotten about.

At the top of the stairs was a small door, and Paul opened it to reveal the attic. Starlight peeked in through the dormer windows at four gables, and what appeared to be the top of the six-sided tower. He flicked the switch, and she gasped. "Oh my god, you didn't!"

Several wooden painting easels, a drafting table, and other equipment lay about. On the other end was a platform with draperies and various rustic objects one could use to assemble still lives. Large cabinets held racks of canvas and various frame sizes. He pulled out several drawers to show where there were newsprint and regular drawing tablets for sketching. To one side was a table that could be scooted on coasters, with boxes of brushes and a whole spectrum of paint. "Welcome to your studio," he smiled.

"You stinker, why didn't you show me this before?" she cried.

"I wanted to be sure you wanted to give painting a shot, baby," he confessed. "I mean I saw all that art stuff you had at Sharmane's place, and I simply found some of this equipment at a local art loft supply company in Manhattan. I asked some of my painter friends what they'd love in an art studio, and got their input... look, I even have brushes if you want them... and there's turpentine and linseed oil... and even some tempura paint... and India ink for black and washes..."

"Wow Paul... you went all out for me," she smiled, taking in the entire studio. "Good grief..."

"Do you like it... I mean... I thought it would be a great place if you ever wanted to paint. And then I thought I'd see if there were some art shows you could enter your paintings..."

Wandering over to another cabinet, this one used for holding paintings in progress, he pulled one out and set it on an aisle. She gasped when she remembered the painting she had started at his house, but never finished, unable to take it back with her.

"Maybe you could start by finishing this one?" he asked, and set it on the aisle. She flushed when he glanced at it playfully by holding his hands up in a mock artist's frame.

"Ohh man that was a surprise," she groaned. "I couldn't put that in a show... it's of you! Don't I need the permission to use a public figure..."

"You've got all the permission that you could ever want to paint little ol me," Paul laughed.

"I'm so dense sometimes, of course... it's just that I didn't think you'd like me to paint you and put it in a show without asking your permission.

"Why not? My clothes are all on, and it's a great start. I think you've got your first painting for the show..."

"How many people in NYC are going to want a picture of the starchild?" she giggled. "Other then die hard fans like me?"

"It's ART isn't it?" Paul laughed.

"But I need some abstract expressionistic pieces... and I have been DYING to do a full scale body canvas..."

"What's that?" he asked. "Sounds fun, if it involves a body, especially yours..."

"Yes it does," she winked. "Instead of just using the brush to put paint down, I use ME..."