<ul>This time when he kissed her, Zilah had enough time to react, her bottom lip slightly trembling under his. A large part of her wanted to wrap an arm around his neck and hold him in place before he had any thoughts of pulling away. His kisses were double-edged in uncertainty and doubt, and all they did was frustrate her more than incite any romantic feelings in her.  <br/><br/>There was a growing need to better understand her emotions and the mess that was her thoughts. Quen was making the task impossible.<br/><br/>Zilah was shaky on her own two feet as he settled her back on the floor, her hand setting the bottle of whiskey down, so that she had better use of both her hands. When he began to pull at her suit over the cut, the urge to strike him was great but she managed to hold back, simply balling her hands into fists. She was barely listening to his words, knowing that somewhere in there was a moral lesson that she didn't want to hear. In fact, she wondered what she found so appealing in Quen at all, given that the whole time he had played the moral superiority card with her.<br/><br/>Could it be that she was confusing the fear she had felt for her life with arousal for him?<br/><br/>When he turned away from her, a single hand on his arm stopped him, and soon they were facing each once more. Zilah let a finger brush over his cheek, and down across his jaw line. Eyes were focused on the movement of her own hand, as she finally leaned in and gently parted his lips with her own, fingers burying themselves into his hair as she cupped his face. Her other hand remained on his arm, forcing him to just be there with her for a moment. She was slower than him, desperate to savour the sensation.<br/><br/>Was it dread that she felt? Or overwhelmin happiness? It was hard to distinguish the two.<br/><br/>"Come with me," she said, finally pulling away from him, her hand releasing his arm. She was feeling all stupid, and blamed the blood loss and the pressure against her head earlier. Stepping away, Zilah slowly slid onto the examination table pressing her back down against it. Admittedly, she was no closer to figuring out what she thought of him, but somewhere in the mist she didn't want to do this alone, not anymore. Maybe all these years of stealing from people had made her just as lonely as he was.  "To retrieve the artefacts," swallowing hard, she braced herself for the pain that would soon come. "I'll tell you where they are, if you come with me."<br/></ul>