From the Journal of Dominique Destine…

I guess I didn't realize until this morning how much I missed Andrea. I dreamt about her last night, reliving every detail of our first night together as I slept. The memories were so sharp it had been like being there all over again, so much so that I awoke expecting to find her nestled beside me, under my wing. Instead, I found only an armful of blankets and a pillow I had pulled from the empty space beside me on the bed as I slept. My disappointment in realizing it had been just a dream was tempered only by the aching need I felt growing inside me for real stimulation, but sunrise came just moments later, cruelly preventing me from sating my hunger with my tail.

I had to settle for soap-slicked human fingers as I showered. Closing my eyes, I let my hands roam my body, pretending they were Andrea's as I teased my taut nipples with one while letting the other slide over the warm recess between my legs. I tilted my head back and sighed, enjoying the massaging effect of the warm water cascading over me as two fingers brushed against my sensitive clitoris. I gasped, feeling myself rising closer to the edge, and my fingers instinctively redirected themselves, pushing past the pouting lips and probing inside me as they would had they still been gargoyle talons.

I tensed, moaning softly as I slid my free hand over my breasts and probed even deeper with my fingers, waiting for the orgasm that always followed quickly when I was in my true form. The water continued to pour over me as I squirmed, struggling to attain climax, but strangely, as I hung suspended on the edge, I soon realized even my best efforts quickly were proving insufficient to bring me all the way. Something just didn't seem the same, and far from bringing relief, I was only making myself more aroused. With frustration, I realized that despite numerous daytime encounters with Andrea, self-stimulation was still mainly a nighttime indulgence for me, and in my human form my experience was still severely limited.

For a moment, I wished I were a powerful enough sorceress that I could simply mutter a few words of Latin, snap my fingers and conjure Andrea up before me. We'd never been together in the shower, after all. I smiled at the thought for a moment, then decided that even if it were within my abilities to perform such a spell of teleportation, she'd probably dislike being pulled away from her breakfast without warning. While Andrea usually liked my surprises, I was still slowly learning which kinds she liked best. An impromptu visit to her studio would go over much better, I quickly decided.

With my craving still unabated, I got out of the shower, my thoughts focussed totally on paying a visit to Andrea as I dried off and selected my wardrobe. I'd taken on a new appreciation for various human female undergarments since my relationship with Andrea had taken its interesting new twist. I'd always hated pantyhose anyway, and the discovery that a lacy garter belt and the right pair of silk stockings could excite my new lover had been more than enough to make a convert out of me. I decided to go with basic black, to match the expensive new tailored suit I'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to wear.

I must have spent an hour just getting dressed, making sure everything was perfect, just as if I was preparing for an important meeting at Nightstone… the only real difference being that for the office, I'd most likely have worn panties. I'm not sure exactly what compelled me to tuck them away in my attaché case rather than put them on, though the reasoning that they'd just be soaked by the time I made it halfway to Andrea's studio was what initially crossed my mind. When at last I slipped on my heels and took a few steps around the room, though, the sensation of being as free under my human garb as I was under my loincloth was simply exquisite. And the knowledge that no one would even know what was missing from under my skirt - except for Andrea, once I showed her - sent an excited shiver tingling down my back.

I couldn't help but grin wickedly at the sultry redheaded woman in the mirror as a plan on how I would go about seducing my lover that morning began to take shape. My body quivered in anticipation of feeling Andrea's soft tongue teasing my most sensitive areas again, finishing what I'd been unable to achieve with my own fingers. "Mm, if you thought my last surprise was good, Andrea," I purred aloud, "you're going to love this one."

For a long moment, I became lost in thought, closing my eyes as I reflected on our last encounter nearly two weeks before. Until today, it had been our first and only encounter since the night I'd returned home to find her in my secret workroom, lost my temper, and nearly lost Andrea, as well. Even after I'd visited her apartment that night and we'd made up, I'd found myself uncertain how to proceed. After several lonely weeks of allowing late hours at work and never ending lunchtime meetings to conveniently excuse me from seeing much of her, I had finally hit upon an idea I was sure would win back some of the trust I had lost from her that night. And it was thanks in part, ironically enough, to the advice of the counselor I'd gone to see at Andrea's insistence.

Me attending group counseling in anger management - the thought was still almost laughable. Yet the very next day, there I was, scouring the phone book until I found an advertisement that seemed to offer what I need. I remember muttering again as I dialed "The things I do for you, Andrea," doubting that, with the exception of Angela, no one else, human, fay or gargoyle, could have ever compelled me to seek the advice of a psychiatrist.

So that's how I had ended up in the office of Dr. H. M. Murdock, M.D., Ph.D. Not wanting to waste time, I'd asked him right away about the group sessions Andrea had suggested. I'd done a little research on my own, and they certainly sounded like they'd be simple enough. Attend a two-hour meeting once a week, listen to a bunch of humans complain about their problems, and probably, if I were lucky, not even have to talk. It all seemed a small price to pay to make Andrea happy.

Dr. Murdock had a different opinion, however. He had insisted that it'd be best for me if I started with one-on-one counseling sessions first, to help resolve the "larger issues" that he was certain I had, before he could allow me to enter the group.

This brilliant diagnosis, of course, came after speaking with me for a grand total of fifty minutes. He'd asked all sorts of seemingly unconnected questions about my work and personal life, and I'd had to tell dozens of half-truths just to answer many of them, lest I risk revealing my true nature. As the session wore on, I became more and more agitated and he seemed less and less satisfied with my answers. At one point, he even had the nerve to "remind" me that everything between doctor and patient was strictly confidential, commenting, "I'll be able to help you a lot more if you'd be a bit more forthcoming. I think you'd find that just a little show of trust would go a long way."

Even though I was in human form, I could still feel my tail lashing. I didn't like being spoken to as if I were a child, especially by a human, but still I kept trying to remind myself I was doing this for Andrea, not myself. With great effort, I managed to nod and reply, "I understand."

"Good. Very good, Ms. Destine," he said as he closed his notebook. "Our time is up for today, but when I see you again next week, I'd like to start with discussing your childhood."

I almost choked, and it took all my willpower to maintain my composure as I thanked him and allowed him to show me out. Only once I was safely alone in the elevator did I dare let go the stranglehold I held on my emotions… and I am still shocked by what happened next.

I laughed, uncontrollably, so hard that it brought tears to my eyes, as dozens of scenarios for the next week's session passed unbidden through my mind. Perhaps he'd wish to know if I'd had a difficult hatching, or if I ever fantasized about being able to crawl back into the egg. Maybe he'd want to know if I'd ever been spanked and sent to the rookery without my supper as punishment for misbehaving. Or perhaps he'd ask about my father or mother, and I'd have to reply "Which one? I had nearly forty." The more I pondered it, the more it all just seemed too ridiculous. I could never tell the truth, and a week surely wasn't enough time to invent a convincing human childhood for Dominique Destine. And even if I could… for what purpose? To fool some worthless human doctor whose opinion I didn't even care about anyway?

My laughter turned to fuming. "A little show of trust would go a long way," I muttered, mocking him. "Perhaps you'd like for me to come back at sundown and just transform before your eyes." My lip curled deviously. He'd be the one needing therapy after that, I bet. And then, out of the blue, inspiration struck. "A little show of trust," I repeated. "Yes, you're right, that's exactly what I need." By the time the elevator reached the bottom, and I stepped out into the crowded lobby, I was smiling again. In the back of my mind, I'd already decided that I wouldn't be going back for any more "counseling" from Dr. Murdock. I had more important things to plan.

It took a couple weeks to get everything ready, in between running my company and dodging the phone calls from Dr. Murdock's office, wanting to know when I wanted to reschedule the appointment I had missed. Finally, though, I was sure that everything was ready, and I called up Andrea.

I invited her to stop by Nightstone under the guise of meeting me for lunch. I expected her to just come straight from her studio, but she surprised me by showing up at my office dressed in heels and the cute pale blue jacket and skirt ensemble that I'd bought for her on our first shopping trip together. Seeing her all dressed up for me left me momentarily speechless, and excited me just a little bit, too, as I wondered what she might be wearing underneath those clothes.

"Hello, Dominique," she greeted, jarring me back to my senses.

"Andrea, hello," I answered. Remembering again the real reason I had asked her to come by, I stepped to her and drew her fully into the room. "I'm so glad you could make it. I have something important to show you." It was all I needed to say to capture her attention totally, and she didn't even seem to notice as I closed the office door and locked it.

"I always have time for you, Dominique," she replied. "What is it?"

"I've started getting some counseling like we talked about," I explained as I crossed back to my desk. That wasn't technically a lie. I had started. I had also stopped, but that wasn't important at the moment. "The doctor I've been seeing made me realize I really should open up and share more of my secrets with the people I care about," I continued, using words I had carefully chosen in advance. This wasn't technically a lie, either… more just a creative interpretation.

Andrea's eyes widened, and I could tell she was fully hooked on my every word now. I could also tell she wanted to say something, but I was on a roll, and didn't pause long enough to let her. "I've always been very protective of my secrets. For most of my life, they've been all I had," I went on, allowing genuine regret to seep into my voice. "When Angela first came into my life, it didn't take me long to open up to her. She was my daughter and a gargoyle, and I was so very lonely. But then you came into my life, too, and I realize now that even though I care about you just as much, I've not shown you the same consideration. And starting right now, I'm going to make that change."

"Dominique…." She barely had a chance to breathe the word before my fingers touched the button hidden under the desk, and the hissing sound of the wall sliding open behind her made her jump and turn. I smiled as the young artist gasped in astonishment, her eyes going wide as the secret room known until that moment only to Angela and myself was revealed.

"This is my sanctuary away from home," I explained, taking her hand and guiding her a few steps inside when she froze, too timid to enter on her own. "It's not much, but it serves my needs."

Andrea's eyes darted about the windowless chamber, taking in the eclectic collection of books and artifacts. I wasn't worried. I had taken great pains to remove to the safety of my workroom at Destine Manor anything that would likely provoke too many questions, leaving only the most mundane items for Andrea's inspection. It was enough for now, I had reasoned, that I was revealing to her another of my secret places, especially after having reacted so angrily to her discovery of the last one. With all there was for her to examine, however, her eyes settled at last on the one item in particular that I had specifically hoped she would notice.

"One of my paintings," she said, turning to me with a look of puzzled wonderment.

"Yes," I replied. "Somehow it made it feel more like home." I smiled, and she did, as well, the grin on her face spreading from ear to ear.

"Oh, Dominique, I'm so proud of you!" she said, enthusiastically. "I know how hard this all must have been for you to do. Thank you." For a moment, I felt a brief pang of guilt over the several small deceptions that had been necessary, but it faded abruptly as she clasped her hand tighter about mine and rose up on her toes to deliver an impulsive kiss on my cheek.

Just as impulsively, I drew her closer, wrapping my arm about her waist and embracing her as I caught a whiff of the pleasant, familiar commingled scent of her perfume and shampoo. After weeks of being apart, desire took over in an instant as a voice in the back of my mind quieted the last nagging bits of guilt, assuring me that even though I wasn't being completely honest, what the young woman didn't know wasn't going to hurt her. I smiled, and returned her kiss with one of my own, capturing her lips for a few brief seconds of passion. Her taste was even better than her scent, and my body tingled, crying out for more. "Mm, I've missed you, Andrea," I said huskily, stroking her hair gently with my other hand as I held her close and our eyes met.

Andrea smiled and slipped her arms around my waist. "I've missed you, too, Dominique," she replied softly, as one hand began massaging the small of my back, right above where the base of my tail would be in my true form. "I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to have the time for me again," she added playfully.

My fingers trailed over the curve of her ear and down her neck, until my palm came to rest on the smooth bare skin exposed above the delicately cut neckline of her suit jacket. "I've just got to make time when the mood is right," I teased back, smiling. "Carpe diem and all that." A second later, I silenced any further words with another impassioned kiss.

I shivered from the remembered sensation. Our tongues had dueled hungrily as we'd undressed each other, and we'd made love not once, but twice, first on the Oriental rug that covered the floor of the secret room, and once more atop my desk after the first orgasms had failed to quench our mutual desire. Only Candice's impatient knocking on the door had torn us away from our mutual revelry of rediscovery, and we had both been startled to check the clock, realizing the lunch hour had passed and we were both about to be late for other meetings. Hurriedly, we'd dressed, and I had sent Andrea on her way with a promise that we would tryst again soon.

So far, it was a promise I hadn't found an opportunity to keep. The hectic schedule of meetings I had arranged in my efforts to duck Dr. Murdock's attempts to get me back into his office also conspired to keep me from Andrea during the daytime. And on the few nights I had free that were not already promised to Angela, Andrea had her gallery showings, which I knew were way too important for her future as artist for her to miss.

I opened my eyes, returning fully to the present, and took in the hot-looking redhead who stared back at me from the mirror, a sly, sultry grin on her face. "Well, my dear Andrea," I murmured, smoothing my skirt with my hands as I became aware once more of the warmth rising inside me, "nothing is going to keep me from you today."

I nearly jumped out of my shoes when the intercom buzzed just a few moments later. "Ms. Destine?"

It was my driver, and his timing was impeccable as always. I couldn't wait to get on my way to Andrea's studio. Stepping away from the mirror, I crossed to the nightstand and touched my finger to the button to reply. "Yes, Gregory, I'll be down in a minute."

"Shall I come up for your bags, Ms. Destine?"

"My bags?" I paused, momentarily confused, until I noticed the suitcases that sat, packed and ready, across the room near the door. In an instant, all the hopes and plans I had begun conceiving for a romantic day with Andrea evaporated. I was supposed to fly to Paris at noon. How could I have forgotten about a business trip that had been set for weeks?

"Ms. Destine?" Gregory asked again.

"Yes, of course," I answered curtly. I buzzed him up and stood there, fuming for a moment, angry with myself for losing another opportunity to be with Andrea to another business meeting. Perhaps I could take Andrea with me? No… as tolerable as that might make three nights stuck in a hotel room in Paris, the tabloids would be all over me. I couldn't just cancel the trip, either, but maybe…

I checked my watch. If Gregory drove fast enough, I could detour by Andrea's studio on the way to the airport, stay for a half-hour or so, and still make my charter in time. By the time he arrived upstairs to fetch my bags, I was smiling again. "Hurry up," I said as I snagged my attaché case from the bed. "I've got a quick stop to make before we head to the airport."

By the time we got through traffic, though, I found I'd severely overestimate the amount of time I really had. I found myself running up the stairs to her loft, too impatient to even wait for the elevator, and let myself in. She didn't notice me enter. I found her in the midst of creating another painting, and though I hated to disturb her in a moment of inspiration, I had gotten myself so hot thinking about her on the ride over that to turn back would have been just impossible.

I was only able to stay for about fifteen minutes, but luckily, those few moments had been enough to finally satisfy my sexual hunger, if not my real loneliness. The rest of the trip to the airport I spent in reflection. While Andrea had obligingly satisfied my carnal needs just as I'd hoped, I started wondering if she might be beginning to think that all there was to our relationship was sex. I shivered at the thought. While that was certainly an enjoyable aspect of our time together, I'm sure she didn't wish it to be the only aspect… and neither did I.

I barely paid attention as I boarded the plane and we taxied and then took off, distracted as I was by my own thoughts. Finally, the realization hit me that the first thing I'd really found missing upon waking that morning was not having Andrea there for sex, but simply having Andrea there… being able to hold her in my arms as we slept… cuddling beside her under the blankets.

And so that brings me to now… and after writing all this down, I think I finally have an idea…