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[Batt] Please No (Paris and Asmodeus)

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[Batt] How about not (Icarus and Paris)

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Destiny City Gingerbread Run

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[Reg] Side of the Crossroads (Paris and the Code)

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[Reg] Betrayer (Stellerite and Paris)

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[Batt] Mistaken (Charybdis and Paris)

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He was very much certain he should have not have done that.
In retrospect, taking a known hostile, an agent of chaos, a negaverse captain to his wonder was all around a bad idea. Isolated, alone, armed only with his skull and magic and the slight advantage of knowing some of his wonder Paris was more or less an easy target. And target him, she had. Just not in the manner which Paris had expected. In fact her targeting had been the most left field thing. He’d never entertained it, never considered it in the realm of possibilities. But there it was, evidence in the faint scent of her on the collar of his uniform.

She’d seduced him.

Oh lord almighty. Sitting on the chair that was in his one time office (back when he was you know, a kind of otherworldly priest or some other such nonsense), Paris ran his hand down his face. He had kissed her. Willingly, openly, unabashedly kissed her because she was pretty and she wanted to and he wanted to and it felt right and okay but-
It wasn’t okay. She was a captain in the negaverse. The enemy. Granted a very nice, civil, pretty and polite enemy but she was a supposed enemy.
And he wanted to find her an kiss her again.
She was an older woman, and he knew, he knew that he was falling for her charm and he should be careful but- she’d been so nice. She’d not been grossed out by his wonder. She talked with him like what he had to say was interesting. She acted like she enjoyed his company. Surely, that was no lie? His hands began to fidget, fingers twisting as he slouched in the chair.

His mind should have been focusing on the Code and how to remove it. It was an interloper as far as he could tell. A bias thing that had no right to linger, to exist on his wonder yet it did. But rather than his mind focusing on that problem, it was focusing on the pretty, blonde, blue eyed captain that had kissed him and told him to break tradition, to ignore the rules.
Stellerite. Stella. Like stars that glittered and glimmered in the sky. In his head he remembered how soft her lips were, how warm her breath felt on his skin, the scent of her, and softness of her, she haunted him. She had invaded more than his wonder. She had invaded his mind and now he couldn’t stop thinking about her and the kiss.

He swallowed and looked at the walls, covered in bones. There were no spirits here to linger, no hauntings or ghosts that might plague him. Eyes traveling out the door and down the hall, Paris breathed in, the scent of her that lingered on his collar now fading.
There were no ghosts on Paris, the catacombs of Saturn. Yet still, he found his mind haunted a smiling, blue eyed captain, and the press of her lips.