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By StarbearerTM

"Are you hurt honey?" Paul asked Trynia. He turned back toward Trynia and wondered if she was angry with him. He slid his arm around her and hugged her tightly again.

The manager returned to their table, asking, "Is there anything we can get you compliments of the house sir?"

Paul opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but closed it when he noticed the look of fear and embarrassment on Erica's face. Instead of hurling an insult he asked, "Kids? You guys want anything?"

"A bottle of champagne?" Kevin said calmly.

"And you, Hon?" he whispered to Trynia. "Several orders of mozzarella sticks... and some Tylenol..."

"And perhaps a nice big ice cream Sunday," Paul added.

"I've got some in my purse. Hang on." Erica said, reaching into her pocketbook and pulling out a package. She handed it to Trynia.

"Be right back," the manager said, snapping his fingers and getting a waiter. Paul picked up a packet of sugar and starts to fiddle with it, as he looks distracted.

"Paul..." Trynia said slowly. He still had one arm tightly around Trynia.

"Huh? Yes?" he turned to her.

"Thank you."

He smiled a bit, "I didn't do enough. I didn't stop you from getting pinched OR getting grabbed OR having to go through that."

"But you punched the guy..." she pointed out. "And made sure he learned a lesson he won't soon forget. No other man has ever done that for me."

"But at that point, the damage was already done. You're already hurting. Pretty darn useless, I'd say I was."

"No." Trynia said, holding up her hand with the blood caked engagement ring. "Your ring saved me... It gave me the distraction I needed to get away..."

At this he smiled, and kissed her hand. He whispered, "Thank GOD for that."

"This darn engagement ring..." she laughed, kissing his cheek.

"That's a hell of a.... HECK...of a ring, Mr. Stanley" Kevin coughed.

"I know..." Trynia laughed. "It saved my life probably."

"That old thing?" Paul joked. Trynia twisted it nervously and took water on a cloth to wipe it off.

"It doesn't matter what you spend, though, Kevin. What's it they say? Two months salary? See, so that varies for everyone." He joked. "And well, my months are pretty well-compensated."

Erica tossed Paul a big grin and rolled her eyes. Trynia seized Paul's hand and kissed it again, shaking.

"You see, Kevin, when I was young.... Before the band... I could never have gotten a pretty young lady like Trynia or like Erica over there to have gone out with me. You're ahead of me already." he winked.

"Mr. Stanley, I think you could have done anything you darn well wanted," Kevin said. "And it's an honor to know you."

"Well, you should have HEARD the girls scream for him, and swarm around the house and all. It was NUTS. I can still remember it, and I was really little," Erica remembered.

"Well, the way you laid out that bastard tonight... That was something," Kevin said with appreciation.

"My grandma...she used to call them pigeons sometimes.... The screaming fans that would come and hang outside Paul's apartment. She's say, "Someone go out there and shoo off some pigeons," Erica laughed. Then she went quiet, hoping she is not appearing too jovial.

Trynia was still stroking Paul's hand, and laying her head on his shoulder.

"I take my promise to protect Trynia very seriously. Even when she doesn't want to let me. Call it the New York boy in me."

"I'm glad you promised that," Trynia said. "I'm sorry I lost it..."

"Shh love," he soothed her, kissing her forehead. "But make no mistake, Kevin, no one screws with what is mine."

"Do you realize you sound like someone ELSE we know?" Trynia asked Paul.

"Yes... sir serious," Kevin nodded. "So... if I ever screw up, my butt is yours right?"

"Other than the daughter I might have some day.... Tryn's own flesh and blood, and mine I worry about Erica's welfare the most. She means everything to me, and I want you to know that I fully expect that when you get before the rabbi, you will honor your promises made to the fullest."

"Yes sir, absolutely sir," Kevin agreed, tensing again.

"Because...other than mom and dad, that's something our family hasn't done very well," Paul continued.

"I promise she'll have nothing but the best I can offer sir, and more," Kevin said firmly. Paul turned his gaze from Kevin toward Erica. "Erica...." he regarded her seriously, speaking very slowly for emphasis. Trynia glanced at Erica, reaching across to grasp her hand and squeeze it for a moment. Then she pulled her hand back and took Paul's.

"When you tell me you love him...are you really and truly in love? You know.... You've pulled this 'flavor of the month' on me before," Paul asked. At this, Erica flushed red in anger and embarrassment.

"I love her sir," Kevin muttered.

"He seems to have a lot to offer, but I want to make sure you know what you are doing." Paul said.

"Paul only wants what is best,' Trynia agreed, and felt as Paul squeezed her hand in appreciation for her support. "Like my father did for me. He put Paul through this."

"You know what your mom went through..." Paul continued. "You know what Linda and I went through...how we still scream at each other over Aaron on a regular basis."

Erica still stared at the table; eyes lowered and face flushed. Kevin maintained his distance, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I guess he means he doesn't want... you to make the same mistakes..." Trynia nodded.

"This isn't the senior prom, young lady," Paul said. "You can't call your date at the last minute and say, "I got a better offer."

"In my family... marriage is for life," Trynia said, taking Erica's hand. A small tear dripped down Erica's cheek. She still did not look up.

"I know that, but why is he making it so hard..." she asked Trynia.

"I guess that's what he's getting at... When two people make a commitment its forever... and when I accepted Paul's proposal I mean it forever," Trynia continued. "That is what Paul is saying to you."

Paul looks directly at Erica, even though she won't look up, and tilted her chin up to face him, "Erica...look at me...you KNOW what your mom went through."

"Yes" she choked, then stops talking.

"He wants the same happiness for you that he is promising me now," Trynia added.

"Absolutely," Paul nodded.

"I told her the same thing sir," Kevin added slowly. "Asked her if it was really what she wanted... I want to marry her, because I take marriage seriously sir. That is why I thought it should be sooner rather then later..."

"That's what I hear, Kevin. You are very religious and a family man," Paul nodded, turning his gaze again to Kevin.

"I don't offer it lightly sir." He finished.

Paul reached across the table and took Erica's hand. Angry she tugged it away, but Kevin took it and placed it on the table again. Sighing, Paul rested his hand overtop both of theirs. And lightly kissed it.

"Is there anything you want to say?" he asked Erica. She shook her head no. Tears still dripped down her cheeks. Helplessly he looked to Trynia for some confirmation. "Am I WRONG?" he mouthed at Trynia.

"Erica, I think everyone here is on the same page," Trynia coughed, steadying the fear of the past few hours and focusing on the moment before her. "But ultimately the decision is yours... Paul just wants to make sure it is what you really want. And it's only out of love..."

Still with his hand over hers, Paul said, "Listen, honey, you're a big girl...a LADY.... I'm sorry.... NOT a baby."

"She has you for an uncle and a father..." Trynia nodded. "How can she go wrong?"

"And Trynia is right. The decision has to be yours."

At this, Trynia turned to Paul and mouthed, "Thank you."

"If you tell me...you want this..." Paul sighed, lowering his gaze. Stopping for a last time, he rubbed Erica's hand. "I will give you my blessing."

She smiled broadly and looks up at him, through her tears. She gasped, "Really?"

"I love him, Uncle Paul, and I've never been more sure of anything. He...reminds me of you. Other than...the band thing and the makeup thing and the ass wiggling thing" she winked, excited that things were going her way.

Paul erupted in laughter, and Kevin's face broke out in mortified shock as he cried, "Erica!"

"Easy, Kevin. Erica and I sort of have this 'thing'. We tease the hell out of each other, right, baby?" Paul grinned at his niece.

"Yes!" she smiled.

He took Trynia's hand and then Erica's, clearing his throat to say, "You have my blessing then..."

"Thank you sir..." Kevin nodded gravely.

"I love you," Trynia grinned at Paul.

Almost diving across the table, Erica kissed Paul and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, God, Uncle Paul, you won't be sorry! I won't let you down. We won't let you down."

"Yes sir I won't let you down," Kevin grinned.

"Nah, I'm not important in this equation. You guys just make sure that you are there for each other," Paul laughed.

"Will you..." Erica asked. "I mean, you said you might give me away."

"I would be honored if you did sir," Kevin said.

"Erica, I've been waiting 26 years to GIVE you away," he teased. She stuck out her tongue at him playfully, but smiled radiantly.

"Oh brother she's you minus the guitar pick," Trynia laughed.

"There are those who say she looks just like me," Paul chuckled. "And look, Kevin and Erica. I don't want to step on any times, and who knows, I might be dead and gone by the time my own children get married, so if you would like, feel free to send all the wedding and reception expenses on to me."

"Sir?" Kevin asked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely positive."

"TH...thank you!" Kevin gasped, shaking Paul's hand. Erica shrieked again and lunged across the table to hug him, just about spilling Trynia's drink.

"Oh brother we got a live one here!" Trynia groaned.

"I already have my dress picked OUT!" she babbled excitedly.

"If you need help planning it..."Trynia offered.

"Trynia, keep an eye on her spending!" he roared. "There goes our retirement."

"I'd be happy too... I know a great dress shop..."

"Oh, that's perfect! I saw it in a magazine and I just HAVE to try it on," Erica squealed with excitement.

"We'll make a date and go shopping," Trynia smiled, wincing against the pain of her injuries, but struggling to keep composure.

"That magazines not called 'Millionaire Fashions', is it?" groaned Paul.

"See, he's being cheap already!" Erica winked at Trynia, as she leaned over and slugged Paul playfully.

"Well I only spent 2000 for mine..." Trynia protested. "Everything included even the shoes..."

"Oh, I won't spend NEARLY that. I promise," she laughed.

"1999?" Trynia joked.

"DON'T encourage her," Paul shook a finger at Trynia, in mock annoyance. Leaning over he kissed Trynia, happy that she appears to have calmed down from her ordeal. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

"And Aunt Trynia, you HAVE to be a bridesmaid."

"And you are in MINE, dearie," Trynia pointed at her.

"And I thought I'd ask my best friend Rachel...and then there's Auntie Linda," she teased Paul, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, PLEASE do!" Paul begged.

"Erica!" Kevin muttered.

"I'm just KIDDING, Kev. Besides, I already got the dark eyes from hell at dinner the other night for calling her a wacko. Do you honestly think I want her at our wedding?"

"And AARON! He must be our ring bearer! Oh, God, d you think he would? Will Linda let him?" Erica asked.

"Oh... well I was thinking he could be ours," Trynia said slowly. "Would it be okay if he did double duty? If not I can get my nephew..."

"Sure, he'd love it" Paul cooed. "Don't worry, sweetie. You just tell us a date and I'll make sure I use that as my vacation time. Oh, you can BET Aaron will be standing up there with us. I'd have it no other way."

"Thank you." Trynia smiled.

Erica reached over and tickled Paul playfully, "You have to dance with me, you know. The Father/Daughter dance.... All stuffy and all."

"Oh boy," Trynia laughed. "At least it's not GENE you're dealing with here!"

"Can he still dance?" Erica asked Trynia.

"Paul can do whatever he wants." Trynia smiled.

"Can I still DANCE?" Paul asked, looking playfully outraged.

"He rescued me so I think he can manage a little old dance..."

"Mmm, remember that statement later, Hon" he whispered Trynia flushed and gently rubbed her leg under the table.

"Maybe I'll pick Stop, Look, and Listen... for our dance," Erica teased him. Kevin winced. Paul reached into his champagne and flicked some at her.

"Yikes," Trynia groaned. "Baby Paul."

"He was a cutie when he was younger, huh?" Erica laughed.

"Was? WAS?" he looked at her in mock anger.

"He was adorable then, but he's irresistible now." Trynia said.

"Hmmm, now That's a couple in love" Erica smiled.

"I'm not kidding," Trynia smiled, pinching Paul's cheek.

"Kevin.... He says things like that to me too.... Just not in front of mean looking dark eyed uncles." she teased.

"Well your... niece... is among the most loveliest of ladies here tonight," Kevin said. "With the exception of your fiancée..."

"See that?" Erica laughed. "The Uncle from Hell!"

Trynia couldn't help but notice how much she favored Paul when she laughed.

"Is there an Echo in here?" Trynia joked.

"Will you invite...HER?" Erica asks, suddenly getting sullen. Kevin glanced at her, confused.

"Her who?' Trynia asked.

"The HER you are referring to doesn't even know I exist, so no, most likely not," Paul gave her a calm, sad look.

"Erica..." Kevin said slowly. Holding Paul's hand, Trynia squeezed it tightly. Erica flushed, sorry to have spoiled the mood.

"Claudia," she whispered to him.

"Drop it," Kevin whispered to Erica. "Please?"

An awkward silence settled on the party, and Trynia winced in pain, slowly growing cold. She buried her head in Paul's shoulder, exhausted.

"Perhaps we should be going," Kevin said. "It's late and I'm sure we're all tired..."

"I'm sorry, Uncle," she whispered. "I didn't mean to bring up a problem. I honestly didn't know if maybe you might...."

"Hey, sweetie, it's OK!" Paul said, gripping her hand. "I love you, Hon. Don't worry about it. You're enough for me. You make me so happy and so proud."

"Thank you, Uncle Paul, for everything," Erica cried, wiping away a tear.

"Sure thing," he winked and kissed her cheek. "Aunt Trynia, are you sure you are OK?"

"Paul, can we go home honey, I'm tired and sore," Trynia said to Paul.

"Sure thing," Paul nodded. "I'll just have Chris bring the limo around..."

"Ms. Merin, you might want to get pictures of your injuries," Kevin suggested discreetly, and get a doctor to look at her..."

"Yeah, good idea, Kevin," Paul nodded, as Kevin stood up, and held out a helping hand to Erica.

"Please call us and let us know you're okay," Erica said. Trynia winced and wrestled a smile to her face.

"Thanks Kevin. You've got a good head on your shoulders," Paul mock hit him. "Kevin, it's been a pleasure. Welcome to the family!"

"Thank you sir... thank you!" he beamed, totally relieved. "And don't forget...separate beds in that big old hotel room," Paul winked.

"Yes sir, Whatever you say... Mr. Stanley."

"Night, Uncle Stan" Erica smacked his arm playfully.

Grinning Paul smacked hers back and kissed her on the lips, saying, "Night, girly girl"

"Goodnight Mr. Eisen," Kevin grinned, shaking his hand. They all rose to exchange hugs and kisses.

***

After they had departed, Paul climbed back into the booth and sighed, "Tell me that is FINALLY over..."

"Yes honey... and Paul... could we PLEASE leave now?" Trynia asked, wincing in pain. She started to shake.

"Honey... are you okay... hang on," Paul said. "You sure you are alright? Do we need to have someone look at you?"

"Well maybe we should stop and get me checked out... for evidence... I mean he did pinch me hard..." Trynia shivered. "And I'm sore..."

"That's not a bad idea. Maybe we should go, hon."

"Only... do you have any private doctors..." she asked. He stood to get their coats. Helping her into her coat, he massaged her shoulders gently as she walked.

"Oh, yes, of course, sweetie. I have a friend in private practice, and I'm sure we could stop by and see him."

"Thank you, dear," Trynia told him, continuing to let him take care of her.

"Mr. Stanley is there anything further we can do?"

"Yeah, just think twice before you serve some jackass enough alcohol to get this tanked."

"The bill... forget about it," the manager said. "It's on the house..."

"Oh, I already HAD," Paul said sarcastically.

"And send any medical bills to us... We'll take care of them..." The manager offered. Hearing this, Paul felt bad, because the guy was attempting his utmost to be friendly.

"Look...thank you for your attention to this...." he said, shaking the guy's hand.

"You're welcome, and I'm EXTREMELY sorry..." he apologized.

"Thanks," Paul said, and led Trynia out to the patio. Chris pulled the limo up, and Paul opened the door for Trynia to get in before him. For a time they rode in silence, Paul gently stroking her hair and listening to the radio blare soft classical music to soothe her nerves.

"I can take you to my friend's house if you're still in pain honey..."

"I'm just so relieved to get out of there," she said with a sigh.

Paul settled into the limo seat, and put his hand over his eyes. Trynia buried her head in her hands and began to shake.

"You know, there are times when a good cigarette would be just what the doctor ordered' Paul joked.

"I'm sorry... damn it..." Trynia whimpered. "I can't stop crying..."

He stopped midsentence and said, "Tryn, oh God! What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry... I just... oh god the way he touched me..."

"Tryn, he was a filthy stinking drunk and he had no business grabbing you like that. But honey that part of it is over. He'll never get near you again," he soothed.

"I know... I know..." she held up a hand. "I'm sorry to freak out I just... now that Erica and Kevin are gone... I can't hold the emotion's back anymore."

"Honey you put on a brave face just so I could yak at Kevin... why didn't you tell me you were still in pain... sweetheart..."

"It was so important to you and Erica I didn't want to..."

"Trynia, please, it's Not your fault honey... look, tell me, where does it hurt?" he said, barely above a whisper. "I need to know..."

Embarrassed, Trynia hesitated again, and buried her head in his shoulder. She sobbed and clung to him, and Paul sighed deeply.

"I wish to god that I had known he was going to do this, sweetheart," Paul sighed. "I guess I really screwed up bigtime..."

"Paul no. You didn't... I don't blame YOU for what happened," Trynia sobbed. "Please understand that... beating yourself up ISN'T helping me!"

"I know honey, I'm so furious I could spit," Paul sighed. "Look, just let's start by showing me where he hurt you... You can tell me...if you want..."

"He pinched me hard in several places..." she winced. "The asshole!"

"Where.... Let me see..." he whispered, kissing her neck.

"My breasts, my hip... my waist... and ... my backside..." she says, hand over her face.

"God, he got you EVERYWHERE, didn't he?" Paul snapped, eyes filling with concern. "Are you bleeding? Bruised?"

"I stopped him before he touched me in other places..." She turned around and pointed to her zipper, and said, "I'll show you where it hurts..."

"It's going to be alright, lover. It's only me. Don't be scared," he soothed, reaching for her zipper and tugging it down. He pulled her straps aside and helped her to tug the dress up and off when she raised her arms.

Trynia turned back around, bared to her slip, bra, and garter stockings. There was a black and blue mark on her right breast, the shape of a man's fingertips. On the other she tugged down her strap and lifted her breast out a bit. More black and blue marks on her sensitive areas swelled into a nasty purple blotch. With anger and concentration, he regarded them. Lightly, he touched his finger near the bruising as if to soothe away the pain.

"We definitely need to take pictures of these," Paul said. "Hang on... I think I have a camera stashed her somewhere... hey Chris, do you still have that disposable camera from our vacation trip?"

The privacy screen slid down and Chris turned back to look at Paul, "Sure Mr. Stanley."

"Give it here..." Paul said. Chris fished in the glove compartment and pulled out a disposable camera with flash. He kept a few on hand just in case Paul wanted snapshots of himself and Aaron. Paul slid up the screen and reached over to kiss Trynia on the forehead. He raised he camera and began to snap pictures of her injuries.

"I know this is embarrassing honey, but I swear it will be what we need if we have to sue this guy," Paul said.

"I know... under other circumstances this would be kinky," she muttered gloomily.

"Anywhere else you hurt?" he asked, nudging her. She winced and he sighed, "I'm hurting you...sorry...."

She pulled aside her slip, to reveal another bruise swelling to existence on her hip and waist. He took her hand with his hands and rotated to get a look at other marks on her upper arm and wrist.

"Damn!" he fussed. "He pinched me HARD!" she sighs.

"This son of a bitch meant BUSINESS, didn't he?" Paul looked at her, anger in his eyes as he grabbed the camera again. Again, the flash flickered like lightening in a storm when he snapped more evidence.

"Yes... I don' know what he was thinking... I just... reacted," she said shakily. "I backhanded him with my hand... instead of slapping him with the front I slammed him with the back of my left hand... he has a Scratch on his face..."

"Are you kidding? You did a great job. You broke away and you went for help," Paul said, putting down the disposable and sitting next to her. He handed her the dress so she could put it on once more.

"I screamed so loud."

"I know, Hon...." he comforted her, helping slip the dress over her head and zip it up again.

"Son of a f**cking bitch... he says he wanted ME for a hot art show."

Trynia gritted, quaking with anger. Paul's blood boiled, but he knew he must keep calm for her sake. He continued to rub his arm down her back carefully.

"He was friends with Jimmy Cyan..." he muttered. "One of the artists at the exhibition, you said you met?"

"Jimmy introduced us...and Kiernan... he looked at me in a funny way... When we first shook hands he creeped me out... I excused myself and went back to meet you."

"Your instincts were right," Paul nodded, pulling her feet into his lap and taking off her shoes. He began to rub softly and firmly to relax her.

"Yes... for all the good it did me later. He said he was trying to help me the son of a bitch..."

"Sweetheart, you can't blame yourself. If you RECALL, you gave me the same advice about Claudia about 15 minutes back" he quietly reminded her.

"Yes... damn effective I guess..."

"All I know is I want to tear him limb from limb for what he did to me tonight."

"Oh god he said I looked like Valerie Bertinelli...." Trynia sobbed. Paul set down her feet and pulled her to his side, hugging her gently and kissing her lips softly.

"And he was going to be my Eddie, stupid BASTARD!" Trynia cried into his neck.

"I'm here.... You know...I just...wish I could make this go away for you," he shushed her.

She clung tightly to Paul, shivering, "I know... and it's more then enough. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing you flattened the asshole."

"And anytime you need a repeat performance..." Paul offered, cupping her chin.

"I will be sure to let you know lover," she laughed. "Good lord you took him down with one punch."

"These old hands are occasionally worth more than just guitar playing," he smiled and blushed a bit. "And that kick for good measure..."

"I don't think he'll be coherent for a while..." Trynia laughed.

"That's what day after day of weight training will do for you. You should have seen me right before we went out on the reunion tour."

"I did... on Second Coming," she smiled. "You were HOT! I wished I were one of those nude models pressing up against your crotch! One of the ones that you said you loved the smell of, and the feel of rubbing up against your nude body..."

"You can rub up against me any day, love," Paul teased.

"And you still are, lover."

He chuckled a bit and scolded her, "Now, just watch your moves here, young miss. I'd sure hate to hurt you.... With these around." he touched the bruises again lightly.

"I... well... I kicked him hard...you know. I don't even know where I kicked him..."

"I'm really proud of you, Tryn, you got away from that asshole, and are still alive and kicking to tell about it," Paul smiled at her broadly. "You did a wonderful tonight, and you know what? Erica was right there to hear your story, so hopefully if that ever happens to her, she knows what to do."

"Thank you," she said, with pride.

Paul stopped at a sizable home, modest in comparison to his, but still impressively large. Walking alongside of Trynia, he helped her to the front door, where a light sprang on automatically. Silhouetted in the square of light, a male figure moved out quickly to join them.

"Hey Paul," he said, waving his hand. "I got the call from Chris."

"Sorry to bother you this late, but something happened to my fiancée here, and I need you to look at her..."

"Say no more, bring her inside... so you're Trynia... it's nice to finally be able to meet you," said Paul's friend, who had been one of the doctors sometimes traveling with the band on their tours. Another figure glanced out, and the doctor called to her, "Cyn, could you make sure there's some hot tea ready? I've got that patient coming in."

"Sure..." came the female voice. At sight of Trynia, she held out a hand to her.

"C'mon in, it'll be all right," he said. "I've got my examining room in back..."

"I thought you have a private clinic," Trynia muttered.

"Sometimes it's less threatening for my patients to come into a house then an ultramodern office complex," Dr. Sanders said. "That's why I figured putting my office out of my home was a good business move. Three days out of the week I'm at the clinic, but the other two and on weekends I'm out here for private consultations."

"I took pictures of her injuries," Paul said.

"Good idea, and you called your lawyer right?" Dr. Sanders asked. They entered what was a small reception area, where Cyn Sanders, Dr. Sander's wife showed Trynia to what appeared to be a small but well stocked medical examining room through an ordinary house door paneled in wood. To the other side was a glass sliding window, dark at this time of night, and another door leading off the room.

"This is nice," Trynia muttered to her.

"Vincent had the lobby and office built downstairs when we were having this house constructed," Cynthia told her. "If you'll just come this way I'll get you a gown and get your vital signs..."

"I'll be right out here," Paul promised, sitting down. "Don't worry..."

"I'll get my things ready," said Dr. Sanders. "Cyn, if you would..."

"You're his assistant as well as his wife?" Trynia asked.

"I'm also a doctor," she said. "An OB/GYN, and my husband's a general practitioner. I also do gynecological exams here too..."

"I wonder if you'd consider taking me as a patient?" Trynia asked.

"Well if you'd feel more comfortable, I can stay in here while my husband assess your injuries," she said.

"Thanks..." Trynia nodded. "I really appreciate that... I just..."

"Here's a gown, and you can just knock on the door when you're ready... and have a seat on this table," she said, pointing to the examination table where a fresh sheet of paper had been stretched out. Carefully Trynia disrobed and tossed her dress over the chair, grateful there was no mirror to see the evidence of the attack. It was hard enough from what she could see on her own body, looking down. Dry thin paper was fibrous through her fingers as she picked up the disposable gown and slipped it on, the open part to the back. Suddenly feeling exposed she sat on the examination table, and hugged her knees, fighting the hot tears that again threatened to form. Rude reality had impinged itself in the bubble that Paul had formed around them, reminding her she was just another person with the same problems as everyone else.

After an indeterminate segment of time, she heard someone knocking and saying, "Ms. Merin are you all right, are you ready?"

"I... I'm sorry, I just sort of lost it," Trynia responded.

"Can I open the door?"

"Yes," Trynia nodded. Cyn Sanders came in, with Paul and her husband looking over her shoulder with concern.

"Baby are you okay..." Paul asked, moving in quickly to her side.

"I'm still shaking, damn," Trynia shivered, hugging her knees on the table. "Is it all right if Paul stays in here while you're examining me?"

"I don't see why not," Cyn said. "If you promise to stay out from underfoot, that is..."

"Sure... if that's what you want," Paul said to Trynia, stroking her hand. Tightly she squeezed his hand, arm wrapped over her chest. Exchanging glances, Cyn and Dr. Sanders took a moment to whisper quietly

"Sit down right next to her, just a bit apart," Dr. Sanders instructed. "This won't take long..."

"I'll be right here," his wife promised, and Paul squeezed Trynia's hand.

"I'm sorry to be such a baby,"

"No, don't worry about it," Cyn assured her. "It's natural to be shaken up..."

A few x-rays, gentle probes later, and Paul helped her to get dressed again while the two doctors excused themselves. Paul carefully zipped up her dress once more as she hopped down from the table. Hand on her shoulder he walked her out to the main lobby again.

"Why don't you stay for a cup of tea?" Dr. Sanders asked. "I have to write up this report, but we'd love it if you stayed."

"Would you like to?" Paul asked Trynia. She nodded quietly, and waited for Cynthia to open the door and lead them into the other part of their house. Paul did not let go of Trynia's hand or shoulder while he led her into the spacious sitting room, furnished in light dove and pastel tones with mission style furniture. It sang of Martha Stewart and a few other interior designers, with a seaside flare. Strategically placed shells and coral accented a palate inspired by driftwood and seafoam green carpet with matching pillows before a fireplace. Within the simple stone hearth crackled a sizable fire. They sat down on the love seat part of the sectional facing the fire, before a glass topped coffee table.

Cynthia brought a tray of steaming tea, setting it down for them all. Balancing his reports on his knee, her husband continued to scribe Trynia's results into a form for Paul.

"So, do you think we should go after this guy?" Trynia asked Paul.

"I don't know what we could realistically charge him with, other then assault and battery... and I doubt the miserable SOB has any money, even though I flattened his butt," Paul muttered. "But I'll see what my legal eagles have to say about him..."

"Apart from a few bruises, you're all right," Cynthia said. "And incredibly lucky. Sugar with your tea? It's right there... the unrefined stuff..."

"Great," Trynia said, taking the cup that Paul handed her, and cupping her hands around it to absorb the warmth through her hands. He helped himself and her to sugar, stirring it in carefully before settling with his hip flush with hers.

"Honey, you wanna go after him?" Paul asked.

"Only if he's obnoxious... but I would rather forget the whole darn thing..."

"All the same, I think he owes you an apology at least," Paul said. "I'll call my lawyers and see what they say..."

"That's a very pretty ring, Trynia," Cynthia said, her eye catching the brilliance that flashed from Trynia's ring. "Is that what I think it is?"

"IT sure is," Paul smiled warmly, stroking her cheek.

"You old devil you," Dr. Sanders laughed. "FINALLY! Congratulations!"

Paul accepted the vigorous handshake with a smile, and the mood shifted from coldness to pleasant warmth with the exchange of pleasantries. Gulping Lemon Zinger tea, she let the soothing zing wash past her tongue and over her aching body gratefully.

"Have you set a date?" Cynthia asked.

"May, right?" Trynia said.

Yes, May," Paul said proudly. "But we uh... haven't set an exact day and time yet..."

"That will come in time," Dr. Sanders chuckled. "Remember how we changed our date four times?"

"Oh you HAD to bring THAT up," she groaned, hitting his knee playfully. "Good grief, it was awful, Tryn... our parents couldn't get the time off, so we moved it to two weeks later, then to find out that my comprehensives conflicted... and then we changed it again."

"Only to find the church couldn't be booked that weekend because of a baptism, so we had to move it AGAIN!" Dr. Sanders groaned. "By the time we found a date that everyone could work with... we drove our planners NUTS!"

Paul's hand clasped around Trynia's and squeezed it. She leaned her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat for a time, setting her tea on the table before her. Slowly he tousled her soft hair, releasing it from the cute barrettes that held it up partly on the sides. They sipped tea, listening to the stories of the Sanders wedding escapades, relaxing in the cheerful flickering of the fire.

"I hear you've just about completed your new home," Dr. Sanders said.

"Well I'm having a time with the last addition," Paul said. "For a new recording studio like Gene has... and there will also be an upstairs game room to it.... Considering I have a budding artist who has her studio on the second floor..."

"Rub it in," Trynia groaned.

"Have you chosen a decorator?" Cyn asked.

"Well, Trynia and I have much to discuss about redecorating our place," Paul said, squeezing her hand. Most of the elements present were of his design; a temporary arrangement till the rest was finished: Paul's new home studio and home office. He used the library on the third floor, giving the second floor large space to her as her studio. It would have been his own studio, but he had insisted it be for her use. Already her art supplies from the small place in the Poconos ad arrived and they had set it up while Paul was still in the hospital.

"Uh... our place?" she almost said before she felt a soft kiss to her lips. A look from him indicated the correction.

"It is your house too, sweetheart, remember?" he chuckled.

"We have to see pictures, when you're done," said Cynthia.

"Paul, you didn't say anything about redecorating," Trynia whispered to him.

"Well, that was before this hip surgery business," Paul whispered back, softly nibbling on her earlobe. "And believe me, the way things are going, I think it's more then appropriate that we redecorate our home... together..."

"Are you picking your wedding planner first, or your interior decorator?" Cynthia teased.

"Well as for my wedding planner, that's my mom, and that came to mind first," Trynia chuckled. "But as for interior designer... I think that will be a very interesting experiment... considering the last place I decorated was a second floor two bedroom apartment, with a budget of a grad student's stipend..."

"Remember the place I had in med school?" Dr. Sanders chuckled.

"Oh good lord how can I forget," she groaned. "This person started out with a closet!"

"Well some of us couldn't live at home," he nudged his wife back. "And it was way better then a dorm!"

"I've had the pleasure of spending a fine night in your apartment, Hon,' Paul whispered into Trynia's ear, kissing her cheek, then her neck.

"Ouch," Trynia groaned, turning over in bed. She ached all over, the bruises on her breasts throbbing as she tried to reposition herself in the depths of night. Slowly she distanced herself from Paul, hoping not to wake him.

"Honey, you okay?" Paul muttered, reaching for her in the darkness.

"Sorry to wake you..."

"No it's all right... having trouble sleeping?"

"How ironic," Trynia laughed sadly. "You were the one with the injuries making it difficult to get intimate... now I'm the wounded person."

"Where does it hurt?" Paul asked, gently pushing her down to the bed. Softly his fingers caressed her and she winced.

"Ow... hard to say," she groaned, tears burning her eyes. "In all the intimate spots..."

"All of them? Where DOESN'T it hurt?" he asked. Blankets shifted, and she heard the rustle of sheets as Paul leaned up in the darkness and positioned himself between her legs. Along her inner thigh his finger traced delicately, his hands tugging her nightgown up to reveal her lower body.

"There..." she whispered.

"How about... here?" he asked with a slight chuckle, and moved his finger slowly north. Fine guitarist fingers reached inside to lightly tickle and tease her intimate places. Moaning, she arched her back as his fingertips found her sweet pleasure spot and massaged it relentlessly. A wave of erotic thrill washed over the aches and pains, shortly blotting them out.

"Hmm, does it hurt... HERE?" he asked, slipping his finger up inside and feeling her moistness in his hands. Lightly he licked her taste from his fingers, and leaned down to kiss her softly. Paul kept his body arched slightly over hers, only millimeters between her bare breasts and his chest. Lying on his side, he gently hugged her close, and eased her to lie on top of his body completely.

Already wet with passion she slid easily over his awaiting firmness, moaning as he settled her into place. He began to thrust directly up into her, steadying her with a hand on her uninjured hip. Each push slammed up, his erection hard and firm deep into the core of her being. Stopping for a moment, she lay her head on his chest to catch her breath, whimpering her first orgasm in lieu of a loud scream. Paul stopped his thrusts, holding her close with his lovegun buried deep inside. She could feel it when she rubbed her hand over her belly, as he kissed her tenderly.

"Ohhh it doesn't hurt," she groaned.

"Good," he laughed. "Because I want you to forget ALL about what happened... and focus on how good I'm making you feel right now."

"Then screw me. Screw me so hard I can't remember," she whispered into his ear.

"You have but to ask," he laughed, punctuating this statement with a particularly vicious and sweet thrust straight up into her. Impaled she groaned and grabbed his shoulders. Paul removed her hands from his shoulders and interlaced her fingers with his, thrusting as he held her hands captured by his head. The fierce hot ride to completion thundered on relentlessly till she fell the onset of a loud scream. Every thought seemed to stop in her head, save the blinding flash of white light behind her temples, and the red throbbing of blood in her ears. The gloss of sweat glistening on his skin chilled them both in the aftermath, his excitement warm and sticky inside her. Exhausted she felt sleep claim her as she collapsed on top of him.

From a deep and peaceful sleep she awakened, and shook her head. Cheek buried in the pillow she lay on her stomach, with a strong arm draped protectively over her, hot breath coursing against her ear. Paul also lay on his side, still fast asleep, body partly propped up on hers, his chin buried in her shoulder. Almost as if he had buried his nose in her hair to smell her scent close by him. Smell was a sensual thing, awakening fresh desires; however, these would have to wait till she had a quick shower and coffee.

Again, she fingered the large ring present on her finger, the locket still hanging around her neck by its gold chain. As she lifted her hand from the pillow, she felt the tap of the diamond tennis bracelet around her right wrist, and the watch she had forgotten to take off as well. Each piece of jewelry he had given her, and it seemed strange and alien for a second. Carefully she slipped out from under Paul, pressing a pillow into place as she eased away. Cold air hit her bare skin, still soaked with sweat from last night's activity. She didn't even bother to slip on a robe, striding past the mirror and only stopping briefly to examine her twin in the dresser mirror across the room. Ugly black and blue marks marred her skin like damaged fruit, and she sighed, closing her eyes.

Finding the silk hanging over the end of the mahogany bedframe she lifted it up and wrapped it around her. Soft silk against her bare skin had the caress of a cloud, her stiff and bruised body now  concealed. The reality still existed, even if it was a safe 24 hours away. Down the curve of the hallway, she traipsed, toward the staircase leading downward in the large house. Gold records posters and framed Chinese prints decked the hall and sweep of the front stairs. Down to the living room, open central space with vaulted open rafters and spacious climbing vines to the distant kitchen she trekked, opening a window here and there to let the morning coolness slip in.

Trynia found coffee, freeze dried and refrigerating in the freezer, and the fresh filters. It was a Saturday, and the housekeeper on weekends wasn't due in till well after noon. Still Paul would require the assistance of Chris or Christine or herself, so preparing breakfast and accompanying services fell to her. She could hardly believe this place was something that Paul considered "their place."

"I haven't furnished it at all," she murmured. Out in back she peered through the kitchen window to a framework of bars surrounding a rear addition that had developed over the past few weeks.

"Since when did he plan on getting my impression on decorating?" she wondered. Why had he chosen last night to surprise her with this news? They had not discussed this. Could it be it had just slipped his mind? She had been so busy hiring staff and conducting the affairs of the house as it existed, that she heard nothing about redecorating! Only about the new addition's completion in the back!

While the coffee was brewing, she stole into the downstairs home office area, where Paul had devoted for business meetings with Gene. He had taken the idea from his friend to set up a temporary place for Gina to run his domestic business affairs, and store his papers and personal files. Here sat two desks, one of which contained her laptop. Picking up her computer she carried it out to the kitchen and plugged the line into the phone jack in the kitchen. It would be a good time to check emails quickly before continuing with breakfast.

Turning on the computer, she waited for it to fire up, and set a skillet on the stove. She found cooking utensils and a bowl, scientifically gathering the other ingredients needed for her mom's pancakes. A quick mouse click, and she logged into her AOL account under her name. She clicked on her email and began to check through. Slowly she mixed her ingredients and heated the cooking oil. A few white discs of batter began to fry as she then got an urge to check the Asylum. It had been a few weeks since she had seen the latest scuttlebutt, and couldn't help but wonder what they were saying about Paul's hip surgery.

A thread caught her eyes, and she settled down to click on it. Entitled "Daughter or Fiancée," she was stunned to read the strange rumor. A poster named "Cyanamid" had posted a strange detail of an art show he had attended, and the strange details wondering about two dark haired women who were with Paul. She shook her head and laughed. Then a reply made her blood freeze.

The poster was called "Paulcaliflower" and their message told a very strange story, under the subject, "Paul's new Art bitch." Reading on she scowled as a very bizarre scenario unfolded about an artsy model named Tracey Martz who had rubbed up against a guy having an after art show drink in a bar, and proceeded to make a pass at several men, only to chase them inside, and then incite Paul himself to a jealous rage for her troubles.

Another person called "BlueAcelightening50" posted a response, saying "Don't mess with Paul's long lost nieces," to which a third party, calling themselves "Hottiehellraiser19" had posted, "This is Paul's long lost daughter you damn fool..."

A fourth party, calling themselves "Cyanamid" posted, "Daughter? What? You dumb clown that was his fiancée art bitch girlfriend... from Italy..."

Paulcauliflower had responded with an acrid post, "The one girl WAS Paul's niece, but obviously if he HAD a daughter we would have heard about him getting in touch. Obviously, the last person who posted knows more. Email me privately about what you know..."

"Good god," she groaned. A shot of fear pumped her adrenaline, and only the smell of frying hotcakes brought her out of her funk. In the nick of time she turned the pancakes over and threw some bacon on the side.

"Fiancée art bitch?" she wondered, reading onto other posts. A strange scenario emerged, where various fans speculated as to the identity of the 'art bitch'. Finally a composite emerged of Tracey Martz, an art student and plus sized model who Paul had met in Europe and brought back to LA. Someone who never went out, except in passing, and had been seen on his arms in various art shows, and in passing at several book signings. Others were sure they had seen her in bit parts in commercials and radio, wondering if she was a B actress or something else.

Another ludicrous rumor was that Paul kept her in his home under lock and key, never letting her out unless he was with her. That he hid her away like Rapunzel in a tower, because of the fears of a jealous ex. That she was only 22 at the most, young enough to be his own daughter.

"I'm not 22," she muttered with a sad laugh. Yet, the descriptions of this woman were chillingly accurate.

"Mmm good looking, what's cooking?" Paul jokingly called in, making her jump. She almost sent the last pancake flying onto the floor. Quickly she turned off the heat, and switched off her lap top.

"Uh... hotcakes for my hottie?" she joked.

"Ohhh a new recipe..." Paul licked his lips, shufflign in with the ornate carved cane in hand. "Is this another Merino original?"

"Uh, no it's a Rielly original," she laughed.

"Ohhh... a recipe from the IRISH side?" he chuckled, moving behind her and kissing her softly. Through the combined cloth of their bathrobes his body heat seeped into hers, reassuring and solid behind her.

"Yes, blueberry hotcakes..." Trynia chuckled nervously. Paul glanced back at the laptop with a questioning raise of his eyebrow.

"Working on a story for a change?" he asked. "Takign a cue from Terri?"

"Uh emails," Trynia laughed.

"Emails, on a Saturday?" Paul laughed. "Am I going to have to take drastic action?"

"Well perhaps you and I can talk more about this decorating stuff," said Trynia.

"Good choice," Paul hummed in her ear. "I had hoped I would spark your interest..."

For a moment she turned around in his arms, hugging him close. He gladly accepted the soft kiss that blosomed into a slip of the tongue into his mouth, pulling his body to press her between himself and the counter.

"Ow," she winced, as he leaned a bit hard against her chest. Paul stopped the kiss and drew back with a look of concern.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he apologized. "I forgot that..."

"So did I, for a moment," she said with a burn of tears in her eyes. Paul bit his lip, opening his mouth to say something. Whatever it was dissapeared into the anxious kiss Trynia gave him, leaning up on her tiptoes to reach him. Tears slipped through her eyelashes as she concentrated her emotion into the kiss, diffusing her anger toward the nameless, faceless letters on the internet that had spoiled an otherwise bright spot in her life.