He had been wondering about that ....Just how it all worked, but despite his curiosity, he was as good as his word, turning his back so that he didn't embarrass her by watching, but not quite in time enough for her to miss the flush that had crept into his face. He knew it was silly, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

"You don't have to keep your eyes turned away, you know," she offered, braving her own embarrassment as she shed her dress and underwear. Few women would be comfortable standing nude in their own kitchen with a man they hadn't even had the shirt off yet, but then, Demi wasn't just any woman.

"Yes, I know, but I'm only human, you know," he said, reminding her that he was just a man with a man's needs and wants, whether she was about to show him her tiger or not. Just the thought of her without her clothes on was doing things to him that he didn't want to admit to, remembering the photos he'd seen of her in the lingerie catalog.

"All right." That was all she said, but following it came an odd sense of implosion in slow motion behind him. Demi made no conscious sound, but she couldn't hide the sound of rearranging bone structure as she opened herself to the morphic shift between woman and animal. When she was done, a loud chuffing sound erupted from around the level of his hip, accompanied by the very animal sound of a creature shaking out every inch of herself for comfort's sake. Where there had once been a woman, now there stood a small tiger, her fur white where others would be orange, her eyes a piercing shade of blue.

Neville stood stock still while he listened to the shifting that was going on behind him, the almost painful sound of bone and flesh twisting and turning upon itself to morph from human to animal. He heard the chuffing of the tiger, greeting him perhaps, or letting him know in her own way that it was finished. He'd never known anyone who was given to this sort of change before, or at least, he'd never been aware of it.

He stifled a shudder that wasn't due to fear, exactly, so much as sympathy at what had sounded to him like a painful process, and yet, the tiger seemed to take no notice of it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, he realized, it would be to someone who'd been born that way. He turned slowly, warily even, to meet the tiger, closer than he'd ever dared come to a creature of the wild. His eyes widened in wonder at the beauty of her, but this wasn't just some overgrown kittycat - this was a full grown tiger, capable of tearing a man to pieces, if she so desired. And yet, there was intelligence in those blue eyes, and rather than fearful, Neville found himself full of wonder and admiration for the creature before him.

Despite the change in hue, those eyes were still Demeter's eyes, and they still looked at him with the same love he had grown used to seeing in the brown eyes of the woman who had dared to show him this side of herself. Licking her nose absently with a flick of her long tongue, the white tiger craned her head toward him, tasting his scent on the air, and abruptly threw herself down onto her side, rolling to stretch her paws into the air like an domesticated cat might to show trust and friendship.

She was no enemy of his, that much he could tell, and though he didn't know much about cats, domestic or otherwise, it was obvious to him that she wanted to make friends. It was a little strange to think that this creature and the woman he was falling in love with were one and the same, but there could be no denying it with the proof right in front of his face. "Do you want me to ....to pet you?" he asked, tentatively, not really expecting an answer.

Flopping down onto her side once again, she chuffed at him, unable to truly answer his question in this form. And, of course, if she shifted back to answer, she would be a naked woman lying at his feet. Not a position either of them would be too comfortable with. Instead, the white tiger heaved herself up onto her paws, padding a little closer to butt her head against his hand hopefully.

Neville chuckled softly to himself, realizing she was acting just like a big kitty, hoping for a little affection. He held out his hand, letting his fingers graze her head, feeling the soft fur beneath his fingers. Her fur felt a little different than that of a domestic cat, but not so very different that he couldn't recognize it as being feline. "You're just a big kitty, aren't you?" he asked. A big kitty with sharp teeth and claws, though she had assured him she wouldn't hurt him, and he had assured her he wasn't afraid.

A long, slow blink was his reward for speaking softly and stroking her as she wanted, her head tilting to guide his fingers to where she wanted to be petted as her eyes rolled happily. Big cats couldn't purr, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction in the low rumble she managed to produce - not quite a growl, but definitely on that scale.

It was hard to believe this beautiful big cat was actually Demeter, but as they say, seeing is believing, and there was no other explanation for her transformation than the one she'd given him, and he realized that if she'd wanted to cause him harm, she'd already had plenty of opportunity. He wondered, though, just how much of the woman remained in the cat and vice versa. Somehow, he knew from her body language and the way she was tilting her head into his fingers that the growl was a friendly one. "I'm sorry, kitty. I don't really speak cat very well," he apologized, his voice soft and soothing, as he buried his fingers in her fur, not quite brave enough to meet her at eye level just yet.

She chuffed, almost laughing at his apology. Her long tongue lolled out to lick his fingers before he found purchase in her fur, those intelligent, familiar eyes rolling back once more in happy contentment. If he'd been sitting down, she would have put her head in his lap by now.

"Are you really Demeter?" he asked in wonder, once again, not really expecting an answer. Despite all his years spent in Rhy'Din, he had never mingled too much with those who were not of his own kind - until now. "You're just as beautiful in this form," he told her, unable to hide his amazement and admiration.

The white head rose to meet his gaze with eyes that were alike, yet unalike. It was still Demeter behind those eyes, not a wild cat held under control. It was just a different side of her that he had never met before. It was certainly a stretch to imagine this tiger holding psychology sessions with those who needed it. The big cat nuzzled close to him, rubbing her head against his hand and hip, marking him as hers; her safe, happy place.

He wasn't sure what it was - whether it was the intelligence he saw in those feline blue eyes or some inexplicable connection she'd made with him - but somehow, deep inside, he knew this was indeed just another side of the woman he loved, and that even in this form, she would never do him any harm. In fact, he realized, in this form, she was quite capable of protecting him, though he had no enemies he was aware of that he needed protection from. "I almost wish I would have watched you change," he mused aloud, a small frown on his face, his voice soft. He had turned away out of some outdated need for chivalry and respect, but now he almost wished he had witnessed the process for himself and seen the wonder of it with his own eyes, rather than just the end result. Still, he could not deny she was beautiful - and dangerous.

If he needed any proof that she could understand him, he was about to get it. Despite her shyness in sharing that change, Demi would have done anything for Neville, and she proved it right then and there. No sooner had his soft musing been spoken than she began to change once again, soft white and black fur shortening, absorbed back into skin that shifted beneath its covering as tiger returned to human woman once again. The last part to change back was her eyes, the piercing blue holding on until the last possible moment, until he was standing with Demeter once again, his hand buried in the long fall of her hair. "As you wish," she whispered to him, her smile hesitant but hopeful.

"No, though not quite a fiancee either, until I find a proper ring for your finger," he told her with a slightly embarrassed smile. He had not planned on proposing right then and there, but he was not sorry he had. "You are far more woman than girl, Demeter," he assured her, touching his nose to hers. "And I still think I need that drink, if you don't mind."

"And I suppose you won't let me help you pay for it, either, will you?" she asked, her dark eyes twinkling as she smiled. Another soft kiss found its way to his lips before she gently disentangled herself to open the fridge and locate that wine bottle. "The tiger wasn't too frightening, was she?"

"A woman shouldn't have to pay for her own engagement ring, Demi. I'll manage," he replied, mirroring her smile, before she kissed him and pulled away to locate the wine. "No, she's beautiful. As beautiful as you, but in a different way," he said, drawing a slow, calming breath.

"She's smaller than other tigers, I know that much," Demi said thoughtfully, still smiling as she handed him the bottle to open. Without quite realizing it, she fell into the traditional female role whenever he was around, though not so much that she would give up her work when they were married. "White tigers are rare, and I'm told that in some prides, they're considered a good luck charm. My own family were so horrified at having birthed one, they got rid of me as soon as they could." She chuckled, shaking her head as she set out glasses. "It is their loss, I think."

"I'm sure you're right about that," he said, regarding her family's loss. At least, she hadn't grown up completely alone, though from what he knew of her life, it hadn't been an easy one. "Do you have a corkscrew?" he asked, as he took the bottle from her and set it on the counter. "Do you find it strange that you've wound up with a musician and not a ....oh, I don't know ....someone more exciting?"

"Oh! In the middle drawer," she told him, gesturing toward the appropriate place. His question made her smile turn a little bemused. "I am never going to understand how you can possibly think of yourself as uninteresting and unexciting," she told him. "You're everything I could wish for or want, Neville, don't you see?"

"I suppose I don't," he replied with a frown, as he opened the middle drawer to search for the corkscrew. She had told him time and again why she loved him, but he just couldn't seem to grasp it. "I work strange hours. I don't have a lot of money. And I'm terrified of bungee jumping or whatever it is you want me to do. I'm boring as hell and as ordinary as they come, and yet, you insist I'm all you could ever want. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm the luckiest man in Rhy'Din, but ....it's sort of like Beauty and the Beast, don't you think" Or maybe Beauty and the Nerd."

"Cliff jumping, and I will get you to do it, if only once," she warned him cheerfully. "You can't say you don't like something if you've never tried it." Watching him with the corkscrew, she smiled once more. "Neville, I don't care how much money you have, or how strange your hours are. I love you, not your job. And as far as Beauty and the Beast concerned, I rather think it's more a case of Musician and the Beast, don't you?"

"They do say music soothes the savage beast, but I wouldn't call you a beast. Far from it, in fact," he said as he unwound the foil from around the top of the bottle. "As far as cliff jumping goes ..." he smirked as he fit the corkscrew onto the bottle and turned it the lever. "You ....might ....have ....to ....push ....me," he said, one word for each turn of the lever, until there was a popping sound and he successfully pulled the cork from the bottle, not without some effort. "Voila!"

"Oh, no, you'll run and jump with me," she promised him, absolutely certain that she was going to get him to do it at least once at some point. "I won't make you do it alone." As the cork came out of the bottle, she applauded him, her smile bright. "Hooray!"

"At least, I'm good for something!" he beamed back at her. "Glasses?" he asked, holding up the bottle, all ready to pour. "So, should we start making a bucket list?" he teased, eyes sparking with amusement, though he still wasn't too sure about cliff diving.

"More than just something," she said, holding up the glasses as she stepped closer. "A bucket list' Hmm ....that might take some work. I only have three things on mine right now, and they all involve you."

"And one is cliff diving," he said with a grin, as he filled the glasses, one at a time, wondering what the other two were. He could probably make a pretty good guess at one, but he wasn't sure about the other, unless it was getting married. He'd already told her he loved her, so she could scratch that off the list. "I'm quite serious, you know. I've never done anything exciting in my whole life. I'm not so sure I'm ready for cliff diving, but I'm not so stuck in my ways that I'm afraid to try new things."

"There are plenty of things we can try together," Demi assured him. "Don't you have anything on your bucket list' Anything that you've looked at and thought you'd like to try, or places you'd like to visit?"

"Hmm," he mused aloud, setting the bottle down to take a sip of his wine. "Paris. I've always wanted to go to Paris. Or Rome. Maybe both," he admitted with a dimpled grin, though he wasn't quite sure that answered her question. "What about you?"

"Oh, my list is very domesticated," she chuckled softly. "Taking you cliff-jumping, marrying you, making a home with you. Perhaps we could make Paris and Rome our honeymoon?"

He gulped another swallow of the wine, which was helping him to relax a little, though he had grown mostly comfortable in her company by now. After all, she'd been his shrink before she'd become his girlfriend ....or fiancee. "Why the cliff-jumping" Just curious."

She laughed a little, taking a sip of her own wine as she considered the answer to that. "It's free," she said, shrugging, before giving a better response. "It's the closest I have ever come to the feeling of running on four paws as fast as I can go. And it isn't dangerous, not if you know where you're jumping. But that thrill when you leap off the cliff ....there's nothing like it."

"You've done it before then," he said, taking a lean against the counter while they chatted and sipped at the wine. "Where" Here in Rhy'Din?" he asked, curiously. He thought there were safer ways of getting an adrenaline rush than jumping off a cliff, but he wasn't quite sure what they were yet.

She nodded. "There are places outside the city, freshwater and sea water, where it can be done safely," she smiled. "One of them is even partially heated - the waterfall is fed by a hot spring, and falls into a freshwater pool, so the water isn't hot and it's never cold, either."

He had purposely not remarked on the honeymoon suggestion, as he knew it would involve a discussion about money again and how his bank account was lacking, while hers was not. "Ah, the hot spring. You mentioned that before. And here, I thought you just wanted to soak," he teased, with that disarming smile of his.

"We could do both," she flashed her own grin in return. "Soaking after we jump, of course. I'll make you earn that relaxing soak, love." Giggling, she slid a little closer, touching her cheek to his shoulder. "There are plenty of things we could do."

"So long as it's not a safari," he murmured. He turned a sideways glance at her as she rested her cheek against his shoulder, charmed by her gentle nature, despite the tiger that prowled inside her. "I only want to make you happy, Demi. That's all I want," he told her quietly.

"You do make me happy," she murmured to him. "But this isn't just about me. It's about us, and you have as much right as I do to state what you would like and hope to achieve." She raised her head, dark eyes smiling into his. "We're a partnership, neither one more important than the other."

He laughed as she hurried to kiss him before searching for her phone. "I think that's a splendid idea, and I'll go fetch the wine while you place the order," he told her. Sooner was probably better than later because if she waited much longer, they might get so distracted with each other that they didn't eat at all.

"Yes, master," she chuckled, bent over the couch in her search for the takeout menu, the phone already in her hand. The more she relaxed in his company, the more he was seeing the impulsive side of her nature, the side that was inclined to twirl when she was happy, and laugh like a child when something pleased her. of course, bent over like that, he was seeing something else, too, but at least she'd put the panties back on, even if her bra was adorning the cooker hood downstairs.

He let his eyes admire the view for a moment, chuckling to himself at her childlike impulsiveness, but restraining himself from the temptation to pat her bottom before finding his way back down the stairs to fetch the wine. He made no remark regarding her comment, not wanting to be her master or her slave, but he equal.

She was still audible from the kitchen, placing their order confidently as she located her matches to light some of the candles. With the sun beginning to set, it was the perfect time to light them, remembering to turn on the low level heating on the balcony as she did so.

He wasn't gone long, returning within a few minutes with their glasses and the bottle. He paused a moment to step out of his shoes, leaving them out of the way near the stairs, before returning to the living area. "Where would you like me to put this?" he asked, bottle in one hand, glasses in the other.

"Hmm?" She looked up, shaking a match to put it out as flames flared on a couple of the candles. "Oh, just a moment ..." Flicking the spent match into the trash, she turned to the glass wall, pressing against the seal on the right side. An entire section of the glass dropped inward a little way, just far enough to be slid across and open the way onto the balcony. "Wherever you'd like," she told him sweetly, backing out onto the balcony to light the little tealights that lived in various colored glass jars about the space.

"You must find my apartment awfully dull and depressing compared to this," he remarked, unsure why he'd said it, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew he was going to have to move. But then, now that he had proposed, it was only a matter of time before they decided where they'd live. There were a lot of things they needed to discuss, but not all at once and not right away. He followed her out to the balcony and set the wine and the glasses down on the table, looking over to watch her lighting the candles.

"There is nothing dull or depressing about your apartment, love," she told him firmly, shaking the last match as she surveyed the candles thoughtfully. That should be enough light for now, anyway. "We live in two very different places right now. That doesn't mean we won't be able to find somewhere that suits us both." Dropping the matchbox onto the table, she turned to him, confident that they would make a home together.

"All I need is my music and my clothes," he told her, though that wasn't quite true. There were other possessions he'd want to take with him - his piano, for one thing; his books, mementos, photographs - but other than that, there wasn't much he needed or wanted to take along. "I'm not very good at that sort of thing," he admitted uncertainly. It had been Nellie who'd picked their apartment, who'd decorated it, who'd made it a home. Like Demi's place, it had once had a woman's touch, but now it felt empty.

"Nonsense," Demi told him quite firmly, drawing him down to sit with her as they waited for their meal to arrive. "You must have some opinion about what sort of place you want to live in. I'd like to stay in the city, near the theater, but I'd like a garden. I don't know whether that means a house, or a ground floor apartment. What about you?"

"A rooftop garden," he suggested. "Someplace where we can sit and watch the stars come out." He wasn't too sure if that place was an apartment or a house either, but he agreed it should be near the theater, if only for convenience sake. "And ..." he looked around thoughtfully a moment, a small frown on his face. "I'd like to bring my piano with me."

"Oh, of course you should bring your piano," she insisted, shaking her head at the thought that they might ever have left it be. "I never thought for one moment that you would leave it or sell it. That piano is a part of you." She smiled at him fondly, gently flicking his hair off his brow. "I like the idea of a rooftop garden. And easier to create one, if there isn't one already to be found."

"So long as we have a rooftop," he remarked. Not every apartment or house in Rhy'Din would accommodate such a thing, but maybe if they were lucky they'd find someplace that did. "Should we start looking or wait a while?" he asked, uncertainly. He'd only just asked her to marry him, but he wasn't sure how long a courtship she was looking for.

"That all depends on how soon you'd like to marry, and how much of a fuss we want to make about it," Demi pointed out, leaning against the cushions comfortably, one hand in her hair, one foot tucked beneath her leg as she faced him. "If you were a tiger, we'd be mated and as good as married as soon as we spend the night together, but you're not. And I have to admit, I like the idea of an official ceremony, no matter how big or small."

Once again, there was that frown on his face, knowing he had so little to offer but his heart and himself. He had no great fortune, no mansion, no fancy car, but what he did have was a heart full of love, just for her. "I have no family and few friends. We could get married tomorrow and no one would be the wiser, but I think you deserve more than that. I know you deserve more than that. I want to give you everything, Demi," he told her, brushing her hair gently back from her face. "I would give you the stars if they were but mine to give."

Her smile softened as he spoke, understanding that sentiment more than he might think. "Don't you think that I feel the same way about you?" she asked him gently, catching his hand to press a soft kiss to his palm. "Like you, I have no family, and what friends I have I am still in the process of making. Love, we could be married tomorrow and I would be happy with that, but I think we would both like somewhere to live together before we make those vows. You've already given me everything I could ever have wished for, just by loving me. I wish you could see how wonderful you are, Neville. Truly."

"You see the best in me, Demi," he told her, gently. It was the truth, after all. She wasn't seeing him through rose-colored glasses. Like anyone, he had his flaws and failings, but she always seemed to look past that to find the best in him. If only he could see himself the same way. He turned his hand to cup her cheek, his fingers drifting to stray into her hair, remembering the feel of her fur against his fingers, though he still preferred the woman to the cat. "We have the rest of our lives to figure it out," he promised her, drawing her close into his embrace and touching a kiss to her hair.

She almost purred, curling into his arms as he gathered her close. "One day you'll see yourself the way I do," she promised him softly. The way Nellie must have seen you. They both had flaws and failings, but perfection wasn't worth loving. Love came from the cracks and the mistakes, the little things that were forgiven or fixed or compromised over as time went on. It was easy to love perfection, and terribly boring, too. "I'm not dressing up as Catwoman for Halloween, though."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "That's okay. I don't think I'd make a very good Batman." He wrapped an arm around her, content just to hold her there while the candles twinkled around them and the sun set slowly setting the sky on fire. "You know, I could get used to this," he said, slowly opening up further, sharing more and more of his thoughts. Some people might find the quiet boring, but to him, it was peaceful and there was no one he'd rather share it with than her.

She giggled softly, nestling comfortably against him. "I've never understood why people like to fill the quiet with noise," she admitted softly. "Why they have to talk just to fill the silence, or cover their walls with garish artwork when they have the sky above them and the world around them to look at. Music is different; music expresses what I don't have words for a lot of the time. But just words ....they're not always necessary. I don't feel as though I have to talk to keep you entertained. That's very rare, you know."

"It is, but I'm not so sure faults and bad habits were what I had in mind when I said it," he told her, hardly noticing what she might consider a bad habit of her own. So far, he had to admit, he thought she was damned near perfect.

"Take the good with the bad," she shrugged. "You can be a little conservative - it might take you a while to get used to quite how ....free ....I am when I'm at home." She flashed him a charming little wink and a smile.

"In what way?" he asked, only just noticing the extra pepperoni she'd added to his second slice of pizza. "If you didn't want pepperoni, why'd you order it?" he asked with a laugh.

Biting cheese off her fingertip, she grinned at him over her knuckles. "Because it's less bother to order it straight and pick the pepperoni off when it arrives," she admitted, displaying a certain laziness that probably came from the feline side. Her eyes sparkled as she owned up to it, though. "Oh, I don't own any pajamas," she told him in answer to the first question. "And I tend not to get dressed until I absolutely have to. The first thing that comes off when I get home is my bra. I like to be ....free."

"No, it's not!" he disagreed with another chuckle. "I wouldn't have cared if you'd skipped the pepperoni," he assured her, eyes twinkling once again in amusement, replacing whatever sadness he might have been feeling at the mention of his wife. "Are you saying you like to traipse around your apartment in the nude?" he asked, with a smirk.

"Yes," she nodded, utterly unabashed by the confession. "Much to the embarrassment of the poor little old man who lives opposite and occasionally gets a glimpse of me through the windows. Poor man, the first time nearly put him in the hospital."

He tried not to let his eyes wander appreciatively over her form and failed miserably, that smirk still in place on his face. "I'm not sure if I should feel sorry for him or envy him. You could just close the blinds," he suggested mildly.

"I could, but then I can't feel the sunshine on my skin," she pointed out. Perhaps it was a little selfish, but she didn't see why she should hide herself, especially when she was in her own home. "He's about ninety, I very much doubt there's any harm in letting him look."

"Maybe we should rent a penthouse. Someplace high enough that you can have your sunshine without any peeping toms," he suggested further, though he wasn't sure if they'd be able to afford the rent. "If we're sharing secrets, I don't like to shave on my days off," he declared. Not nearly as daring as a woman walking around with her clothes off, but it was all he had at the moment.

"Mmm, naked sunbathing," she teased, leaning over to kiss a spot of sauce from his lip. Her third slice had virtually disappeared, but she was full enough. Pizza had that effect on her. "Ah, you like to cultivate the rugged look when you don't have to be perfectly turned out, hmm?"

He smiled as she kissed the sauce from his lips, just as he was finishing up his own third slice. "I'm not sure I'm ever perfectly turned out," he admitted, a little embarrassed. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't have much fashion sense." They seemed exact opposites in that regard, as he thought she was always gorgeous.

"No, I think you have classic fashion sense," she corrected him fondly. "You know what suits you, and you dress well accordingly. You don't have to slavishly follow fashion to be well turned out, love."

"If you say so," he told her, not very convinced. He drained his glass of wine and leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction, glancing out to find it was finally getting dark. "The stars will be out soon," he said, thinking aloud.

"I do say so," she insisted, smiling as he settled back comfortably. She leaned her head back to look up at the sky. "And the moons already rising," she murmured, nestling a little closer. "Listen ....you can hear half the city going to bed while the other half wakes up."

"Which are you?" he asked, turning back to watch her as she looked at the sky. She seemed to belong to both day and night, a creature who was both woman and feline, and he wondered which was the stronger of the two.

"Oh, if I had the leisure, I'd go to bed after midnight and wake up late in the morning," she confessed, smiling at the sky as it darkened and began to twinkle with stars. "I like to watch the sun rise sometimes, but my favorite kind of day begins at noon, so I can watch the sun set and the moons rise." She shrugged, tilting her head to look over at him. "What about you?"

He set his glass aside so that he could wrap his arms around her and draw her close against his chest while they watched the starry show in the night sky. "I work strange hours. When I'm working at the theater, I don't get home 'til after dark, and then I'm usually too restless to sleep right away. Weekend performances are afternoons, so I don't have to get up too early, but ....I like to watch the sun rise sometimes, too." His favorite time of day though' That was hard to say.

Wrapped in his arms, Demeter stored this information away. As a psychologist, she had a certain amount of leeway when it came to arranging her appointments, and a later start to her day would likely suit most of her clients better, anyway. "I'm always on call, unless I arrange cover," she told him, answering the given information with a little of her own. "I'm not concerned that any of my clients will need me out of hours at the moment, but there might come a time when someone does."

"What happens if one needs you while we're ..." He shrugged, glad she was not looking at him so that she didn't see his blush. "I don't know ....camping or something." Or away on their honeymoon, presuming they went on a honeymoon. He'd never needed to call during off hours when he was under her care, but he assumed she must have a service that took her calls when she wasn't available.

"I'd arrange for someone else to cover my clients while I'm out of touch, and make sure that they all know who they'd be contacting," she assured him. She took her job very seriously, but that didn't mean that it was her absolute priority in life. Tilting her head back, she brushed a soft kiss to his neck. "If I ever do have to abandon you, I promise I will make it up to you."

"I'll try not to be jealous of your patients, if you try not to be jealous of my students," he told her with a soft smile, that was only partly in jest. He knew her job was an important one - far more important than his, he thought. She had helped him deal with the grief of his wife's death, and he knew there were others who needed her help just as much as he had.

Her fingers curled into his hair as she held his gaze, her smile soft to match his. "I can't promise never to be envious of your students, but I can promise never to be jealous," she offered warmly. "I'm not afraid of losing you, and I don't think I ever will be. I trust you."

"You won't ever lose me, Demi," he assured her quietly as he met her gaze. If there were any doubts in his mind, he wouldn't have proposed. He could think of nothing else to say that hadn't been said already and so, he leaned closer, his fingers gently brushing her cheek, and touched his lips to hers in soft and tender kiss.

"Nor you, me," she promised him, her voice just as quiet, just as certain. She received his kiss with a soft smile, easing closer to answer it with her own, tender and loving and longing, her arms curling to his shoulders as her fingers played into his hair. Stolen kisses were a thing of the past now they had made themselves official; she saw no reason to hold herself back from pouring everything she felt into each kiss he gave her, sharing far more than words could ever express in intimate affection.

Despite their promises, Neville knew from experience that life really was too short. Though they might never intend to break those promises, Fate might have other plans. Still, he felt more hopeful and optimistic than he had in a long time. No matter how much time they had together, he intended to make the most of it, and there was no time like the present to start. He returned her kisses, withholding nothing, hands creeping up against her back, waiting for permission to take the next step.

"I've never felt as happy ....as content ....as I feel when I'm with you," he told her, feeling almost guilty for admitting, almost as though he was betraying his wife's memory, but it was true. As much as he'd loved Nellie, he felt something more with Demi - some sort of connection he couldn't quite explain or understand. He'd worried once that he'd never be able to love again, but she had proved him wrong and then some.

Nestled close against him, she smiled, brushing her lips to his shoulder. "Somehow I don't think that's entirely because I'm a large version of a domesticated cat with boobs," she commented, her silly humor never far away when they were together. "You make me calm," she told him softly. "All my life, I've been aware of the tiger in my mind, always watching, always clamoring for freedom. But with you, she's quiet, content. And that's something I've never experienced before."

He rolled to his side, afraid he might crush her with his weight, pulling her along with him, unwilling to let go of her just yet. Gentle fingers traced her cheek before straying into her hair, eyes searching hers, though for what he wasn't quite sure. "I'm terrified of losing you," he confessed quietly. It wasn't the fear of her leaving him, but of losing her the way he'd lost Nellie. It was a promise she could not make, and yet, the uncertainty only made him love her more and want to make the most of each moment.

Rolling with him, she eased herself up to look down at him, laying her palm over his heart as she held his searching gaze with gentle confidence. "You won't," she promised him. "Not until I am old and gray, and my natural time comes. You don't need to fear losing me to an accident or an illness, Neville. I heal very fast, and I don't get sick. Silver is the only thing that prevents me from healing, the only thing that can kill me outright. I am afraid of losing you, but you don't need to fear losing me, not like that."

"Even you wouldn't have survived that, Demi," he told her, meaning the explosion in the marketplace that had taken Nellie's life. Or if she had, the healing would have been unspeakably painful, but he understood what she was telling him - or he thought he did. "And here I thought all that was nothing more than myth and legend," he said. Sure, he'd known there were such things as weretigers, but he'd never known one personally before.

"We're quite difficult to kill," she murmured. "I've never seen it done myself, but I have heard that even if we seem dead, unless it was silver that killed us, the light of the moons can revive us." She shrugged, leaning down to touch a kiss to his lips. "It could well be myth and legend. That doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Remind me to get rid of every piece of silver I still own," he told her, only half in jest, making a mental note to make sure the ring was gold and not silver. He smiled into her kiss, feeling strangely lazy and content and happy to remain right there beside her as long as time would allow. "Mind if I stay the night?" he asked, though he could have guessed the answer.

Her smile softened at his question, bright and sweet and deeply delighted that he had asked at all. "I was hoping you would," she admitted, easing down to lie close beside him once again. "I bought a spare toothbrush, just in case."

He chuckled a little at her remark. "That's good because I forgot mine." He slid an arm around her shoulders to pull her against him, wondering why he'd been worried at all about what she'd think of him or if he could please her.

Curling into his side, Demi beamed her soft smile, her arms wrapped about him in the little nest of soft furnishings that was her bed. "I have to admit, I can't wait to meet this beast you say you are first thing in the morning."

He smirked at her comment. "Just imagine me with messy hair and bad breath needing a shave," he told her, though he was probably exaggerating a bit. He didn't think much of himself on a good day and still thought they were a little akin to Beauty and the Beast.

"Mmm, care to share the bath and let me shave you?" she suggested, half-teasing and half-serious, grinning up at him where she lay comfortably against his side. "You needing a shave and me wandering around naked ....we're going to be lucky if either one of us gets to work on time tomorrow."

"So long as you don't shave my chest," he replied with a grin. "We could be bad and call in sick," he suggested, though he doubted either of them would do it. They were both too mature and responsible for that.

"And let you miss your triumphant solo at the Gala" Never." She grinned back at him, warm and content, knowing she would sleep well and soundly tonight for the first time in over a decade. Because she wouldn't be sleeping alone; because the warm body curled to hers belonged to the man she loved and who loved her. She might have given him a yes, but he had given her far more than that. She intended to spend the rest of her life making sure he knew how much she appreciated him.

He chuckled in response to her question. "I'm a cellist. It's not much of a solo," he told her. Besides, no one would see him in the pit. It was the ballet who would get the applause and the recognition, not the orchestra, but that was fine with him. He didn't really like being in the spotlight. "Okay, so, no calling in sick. I still don't have to be at the theater until later. What about you?" he asked, as he settled himself comfortably against the pillows.

"I have two appointments tomorrow," she told him. "The first at one o'clock, and the second at three. We have all morning, if we want it. I don't deal with more than ten clients at the moment. The professor didn't want to overburden the newbie."

"I didn't fall in love with you because you were my therapist, you know," he told her with that familiar worried expression on his face. He'd heard of people forming attachments in such circumstances sometimes, but he didn't think that was what had happened with them.

Demi smiled, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "I know," she assured him softly. "You didn't fall in love with me until after we started dating. Before that, you just wanted to shag me." She winked at him impishly, feeling very secure in teasing him this way, especially after the activities of their evening thus far.

"Are you sure it's not you who wanted to shag me?" he asked, eyes dancing with mischief in the light cast only by candle and moonlight.

"From the moment I smelled you," she told him, thought how seriously he would take her was his business. It was the truth, though - she'd wanted him before she'd even laid eyes on him. It had been plain torture, those sessions in her office, so close and yet so very far away.

If he didn't know her so well, he might have taken offense at that, but knowing what he now knew about her, he took it as a compliment. "And what do I smell like, exactly?" he inquired, wondering if it was his natural scent - whatever that was - or the aftershave he was wearing.

"Like moonlight on snow, on a silent night," she sighed softly. He already knew how she felt about nights like that, nights that called to both sides of her nature and urged her to enjoy them. "Your scent is a siren call to me, love."

Both brows arched upwards in surprise at her assessment. "I didn't know that smelled like anything," he mused aloud, though now that he thought about it, there was a certain scene to the air on a snowy, moonlit night. It was sort of a clean, fresh smell, but it surprised him to know his scent reminded her of that. Once again, he felt the desire to ask, Why, me" but withheld it for once, knowing some things just couldn't be explained, no matter how hard you tried. "Whatever I'm doing right, I'll have to keep doing it."

"Then you'll never do it wrong," she told him with a tender smile. "You just have to be." Easing up, she brushed her lips to his, sharing that smile with intimate affection. "You can't stop me if I go first this time," she murmured playfully, the sparkle in her eyes promising him that this time she was going to have her way with him before he could stop her.

He smiled into her kiss, feeling truly happy and content. "Who says I want to?" he asked, making no move to stop her, though the night was still young, and if he had his way, they'd both have plenty more of each other before sleep claimed them.

After all, what better way to spend their first night as a mated pair? Marriage would come, in time, but from this moment on, nothing could come between the tiger and her loving mate.