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Moira did so enjoy frank discussion with folks. Gretchen was the type that didn't beat around the bush. The long silence was more a contest of wills to see who would break eye contact. Neither of them budged. "My dear," she said with the care in her voice, "I'm not here to take her away from you." She reached out her hand, "I promise that if we do, it will not be behind your back or to spite you. Lynn is my friend. And I only do what my friends are comfortable with." There was a short look again, probably less awkward than the last one, "like mature adults."

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Gretchen retreated slightly from Moira's extended hand, but it looked more like reflex than a genuine rejection; she really did have a lot of issues. But she seemed to accept what the goddess said, as she nodded a few times. "I accept your terms."  Then she sighed. "I'm not a romantic. I don't believe in destiny, love at first sight or soul mates. I believe in chemistry and random interactions. I do not in anyway claim ownership of Lynn's mind, body or soul. She can do as she pleases with whom she pleases. But I do ask that you respect the bond we have created between us, because that is unique in all the known universe."

 

Then she stood up and reached across the desk, her left hand extended. There was a ghost of a smile on her lips, and something harder to quantify in her eyes. Relief? Forgiveness? It was hard to say.

 

"Deal?"

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Moira nodded as Gretchen mentioned her bond with Lynn. She had bonds with many people. Some she hoped to reunite soon enough. But she knew a bond when she saw one. Gretchen looked as if she loved Lynn with all of her scientifically analytical heart. Romance, destiny, soul mates, and the rest didn't take exact defining. But Moira was not here to teach her that. She was here to assure her that she and Lynn were safe. "Deal," she said taking Gretchen's hand heartily.

 

"I want you to know, Gretchen," she said standing up slowly, walking around the desk, "we can be friends also. Understand that you and I aren't here as rivals. I know trust is earned. But i hope to earn yours. And you mine." She crouched into a kneel on her knees, putting herself at the lower position, "I'll even pay for that coffee. And dinner tonight. Me you and Lynn, talking about we plan to do over, let's say... the next four months. Cool?"

Edited by Moira Morley
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The kneeling threw her off, and Gretch took have a step backwards, but to her credit, she didn't bolt for the door, which was her first instinct. Moira was comfortable with her own body (and other people's, apparently) in a way the young barista might never be; all those layers of armor were not so easily set aside. Yet with Lynn, with practice, she'd learned how to carefully strip them off, one layer at a time, until she could make her real self available to someone else, something she'd never in a million years thought she could do. 

 

And now this off-putting goddess, so beautiful it made her heart ache, was kneeling before her like some chivalrous knight with eyes that danced with mischief and love, asking her to give her a chance. Moira's borders were blurry; Gretchen could imagine a hundred lovers falling for her without even realizing it had happened as she entered their lives. She was like the sun, so dazzling, bright and warm (and hot!), but with a gravitational pull strong enough to swallow planets. She was a siren asking a sailor to step off the shore because the water's fine. All these warning flags were popping up, telling her there was no going back once you let this woman into your life-

 

"Sure. That sounds fine."

Edited by Heritage
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Moira remembered Lynn's warning of not spooking Gretchen. Not that she was trying to do that! Kneeling was a bit of subservience to Moira. Giving Gretchen the upper hand. It meant a lot to Moira to do that. Even though she exuded dominance, Moira wanted to show Gretchen she was not above the girl. Though it didn't seem to work. Moira put her hand on the desk and pulled herself up slowly, cautiously, almost serpentine. She wasn't that much taller than Gretchen, but still eye level over her. The step back from Gretchen made it a little less apparent.

 

"Good," she nodded, stepping back a little bit herself, "is that all you wanted to know? I'm pretty sure I can tell you things and you can tell me things." She leaned on a bookshelf, crossing her arms, "what would you like to eat?"

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"Spaghetti would be good, with lots of mushrooms and garlic," she said matter-of-factly. "And cheesy garlic bread and red wine." And with that, she abruptly headed for the door. "I need to get back on the floor." This was not intended to be rude; she just felt that they'd covered everything that needed to be discussed, and it was time to get back to work.

 

As she reached the door, she nearly ran into Lynn on her way back in. "Everything okay- oh!"

 

"We're good," Gretch simply offered by way of explanation; this left the changeling standing awkwardly in the doorway. Lynn jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

 

"She, uh...sometimes she just leaves like that." 

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Moira smirked at the cute little scene. The two woman felt comfortable with each other, at least, and Moira found that very comfortable herself. Moira felt that way around most of her friends. Moira nodded at the observation, "we'll get to common ground. Hopefully." She met Lynn with a close but friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek. "So, landlady Lynn," she said looking in to her possibly new roommate's eyes, "dinner tonight. At our place? I offered it and Gretchen suggested spaghetti. I'm not opposed. I have some friends who I can visit later today." She paused, "come to think of it, this was kind of a short visit. I can stick around for a while," she sighed happily and backed off, "if you want me to."

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The hug and kiss left Lynn a bit gooey around the edges, and her face felt all warm. "I think we are good for a short stay...under this roof, under the covers. That is, yes, a guest!" Old Smooth Moves was having just a bit of trouble keeping it cool. "Dinner would be great! I have a very nice Chianti upstairs that we could put to good use."

 

The changeling plopped back into her seat, the captain's chair of the USS Silberman's Books, where she felt a bit more under control; having a desk between them helped a bit, too. "It'll be great having you here, I'm sure."

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