She was heavily sedated still, so her slumber was incredibly deep. She was drifting through a world of dreams, dancing to the song of her own imagination, when a strange sensation filtered through. She knew it well. At once, she mastered her thoughts, assembling the familiar construct around her. The dream melted away, and with it, she felt the heavy suppression of sleep subside.<br/><br/>She was standing near a warm fireplace, leaning against a stone hearth. Looking around, she peered closely at the library around her. It all seemed in order. The rows of bookshelves were just as she'd left them. The books on the shelves were various in size, color, shape, and subject. These were her memories and knowledge. There was little sense to the shelving system. She usually kept them in a convenient location that may or may not have had any organizational sense. There was furniture spread around the room, arranged comfortably as if she were expecting visitors to come and peruse her store of knowledge leisurely.<br/><br/>There was a large pair of glass doors nearly filling one wall. The doors currently stood opening. A gentle breeze stirred the curtain beside the door as it flowed in through the door, bringing with it a scent of flowers. Outside the doors, a lush and magical garden was visible, full of plants that could only possibly exist in imagination.<br/><br/>Nodding her head, she closed her eyes. The sensation that had caused her to assemble this construct was growing stronger. It was the touch of another mind. Someone must have been touching her skin. She reached out to it and pulled herself toward it. At once, she recognized the touch of her husband. she'd never before entered his mind, as she always worried that doing so would be a breech of his privacy, and would unravel their relationship. It was why she was so amused that she never knew such a big secret. Any decent telepath should have known that.<br/><br/>She felt the contact with his mind, following it to her hand.<br/><br/>"Perfect..." she whispered, "Come to me, love. You have shown me your secret. Now let me show you mine."<br/><br/>She could be convincing when she wanted to. To him, the sensation would have felt extremely strange, though not unpleasant. At first, her hand would feel warm in his. The warmth would grow until he would feel his own skin warming as it kept in contact. This warmth would feel incredibly good to him as it would slowly begin to creep further into his hand, and up his arm. The progress would be slow, but the farther it went, the better it would feel. The heat of it would make his muscles feel heavy. From his arm, the warmth would spread quickly, reaching through his entire body. Within five minutes of her beginning the call to him, he would feel a heaviness in his thoughts.<br/><br/>This heaviness would feel almost identical to the pressure of impending sleep. He would feel as though he were suddenly extremely, massively sleepy. His eyelids would become heavy over itchy eyes. If he were not careful, and if he did not resist, he would soon begin to nod, and drift, and doze...<br/><br/>The call of her mind would get stronger and stronger, until at last, darkness would settle over him. When this happened, he would at last be able to respond to her call. He would feel himself pulled, as if on the current of a river in spring time, when the riverbeds are swollen with the melting snow. The current would pull him until he found himself standing in the library beside his wife.<br/><br/>She stood ready for this to happen, smiling warmly, prepared to welcome him.