It was a little childhood fear. It was not extreme enough to make her scream or curl up in a ball, but it was bad enough for her to need someone to touch, or something to light the pitch blackness. The dark-haired man against her front of was enough to keep her from scrambling for a lighter and Juno briefly told herself that there was nothing dangerous in the room that would slip out and attack her while the lights were out.<br/><br/>Nyctophobia. Fear of the dark or night.<br/><br/>The night was fine for the most part. She had walked home from friends’ houses before she started to drive, but in college, she always did the Safewalk to keep her sanity. All she needed was to get mauled or killed on her way back to her car or dorm. So many university girls never used the program, and she even did some speech work to promote violence on campuses and ways to keep safe.<br/><br/>When she relaxed herself, she took in a low, slow breath. She had no idea that he got a glimpse of her leggings’ end and the lace garter and he could have gotten a glimpse of the black lace bra had one more button been undone. Never know when you’re going to be found in your undies, right? Car accident and the doctors see everything under the clothes, so why not greet them with a matching, very fitting set of lace below the clothes? Not crazy, just quirky.<br/><br/>Juno had spoken to him on the phone a number of times and wrote constant e-mails back and forth as he helped her with getting the job the moment her final internship ended. He did not know it, but when she got the job, she spilled her glass of wine in the process of jumping up and down, doing something she called her “Happy Dance.” Everyone had one. Hers always came along when she was in her panties—maybe because she took so much time to get everything under the clothes perfect, but that were the foundation for a good outfit—and often when she was getting ready for a bath or getting out of bed. It was her step to becoming a woman.<br/><br/>She had a lot of “professional” outfits from her internships and meetings so she did not need to buy much. She was tempted to do a pants suit, but they seemed so… manly. The boy-figured girls wore that because they did not have the Bettie Page meat on their asses and legs. Skirts made the model-like girls show off their too-thin legs and Juno always worried that they were going to snap with the pointy-toed heels. Who the Hell thought those were sexy? She wore a pair once and bailed in her friend’s livingroom when the toe caught on the floor.<br/><br/>“Damn,” she said when she finally got her voice back before continuing, “I was hoping Jesus was coming to save the world.” A sigh ended her words.<br/><br/>“And the patients are fine in the dark?” She cocked her head a bit thoughtfully, musing. That seemed about right. The doors were all locked, so they could not get out and the windows in the main room and many hallways would catch enough light to have shadows. Also, it did not sound like there was any chaos from the hallways.<br/><br/>She felt him move against her and blinked at the sudden light of the lighter. The sweet scent of the cigar relaxed her more than the breathing exercises. Her father used to smoke cigars and often pipes. The girl nodded and withdrew a cigarette and a six inch cigarette holder from the depths of her bag and calmly lit the candle on her bookshelf to fill the room with the dim light of a candle. She pressed the cigarette into the end of the holder and placed the plastic to her lips before lighting it. The smoke filled her lungs and she let the grey dance from her pale lips, calmer after the cigarette and candle.<br/>