| His Katzchen was a very tired woman last night. They had barely settled in bed when she fell fast asleep. When his gentle advances produced no reaction, he resigned himself that two wonderful experiences would be it for the day. But there was always the next day to look forward to. He could get used to living like this. Her sweet form was snuggled up to him when he woke early in the morning. He lay still, watching her breath, remembering the joy that filled his heart when she accepted his proposal. It was hard to believe he'd found such happiness in this place of torment. Her dark eyes opened, and sought his. Her arms came around his neck and she met his mouth with hers. His hands roamed over her and she wriggled pleasantly against him. "How are you feeling this morning?" he said. She pulled away, reluctantly, and got up. "Let me see." She did some stretches and bends with barely a wince, while he watched her avidly. "I'm still a little sore in my middle and thighs, but exercise will probably take care of that." She looked over at him, noticing the tenting of the sheet, and smiled. "Just what you had in mind, huh?" "Ja!" He flicked the sheet out of the way and reached for her. He felt insatiable around her, like she was as necessary to his continued existence as the air he breathed. Now that they were unobserved, he spent a long time exploring her body, needing to know every part of her. She cooperated, giggling at his absorbed expression and trying not to flinch when he inadvertently tickled her. When he finished, she dug her heel into the mattress for leverage and pushed him onto his back. "Your turn, Fuzzy!" She took her time, he hands running over him, feeling the development of his muscles and seeming to catalog all the place he appeared sensitive. The final straw for him was when her expedition encountered the base of his tail. He was lying on his belly, and she'd worked her hands up from the tip, to the base. He jumped when her fingers absently stroked the fur just under where it grew out of his spine. As he panted, she did it again, more firmly this time. Curling her hand tight at the very base, she drew it down the first foot or so of his tail, and something inside him snapped. Growls rumbled from deep in his chest. He writhed from under her and firmly pinned her down. Flaring yellow eyes stared into startled brown. He bent his head down and bit her neck, just shy of breaking the skin. The purring growls continued, but he managed to speak around them. "Rrrrr. If you, ah... rrRRrr, touch me therre... like that... Rrrr. Then, Katzchen, therre arre... RRrrrRRR, consequences..." His tail slipped up her leg to the juncture of her thighs. "Whoa, love," she said laughing, as he nipped and bit at her chin, and ears, as well as her neck. "I think I found your 'on' switch." She was already damp, and with the touches of his tail she was fast becoming sopping wet. He pressed his lips to her, claiming her tongue, and sweeping his over the surfaces of her mouth. Some part of him wondered at her calm laughter... Why wasn't she afraid of him when he almost was at the way he was acting? "Rrrrr... You'rre not afrraid?" Her eyes held his. "Kurt, you would never hurt me, I know this. And I wanna see what happens when we just... let it rip." A finger traced down his spine, to his tail, and she gave him a gentle grip there. "RRRrrr..." His blood roared in his ears, and he levered her legs apart. He pressed himself at her entrance, and pushed steadily in with a deep groan of need. He spared a bare moment to see if she was all right. When she pulled him closer, urging him on, he gave into the raging desire her touch has aroused. He was distantly dismayed he could be capable of such a feral display of passion, or rather, of lust. He knew that she'd walked into it with her eyes open. He'd given her fair warning, after all. There was no finesse to this raw coupling, but she gave as good as she got. She bit and clawed back at him as she rose to meet his pounding thrusts. She muffled her scream of ecstasy around a bite-full of his furry shoulder, and his howl of completion echoed and re-echoed off the walls of the room. He collapsed on her, the effort to breath tearing at his raw throat. When his brain began to function again, a sense of shame crept in. What had he done to her, and to them? She stroked through his hair, following the line of his ear on his scalp. She kneaded his neck and shoulders; all the while making happy little hums and sighs. In finally penetrated his mind that she wasn't at all upset with him. He moved off to lie beside her. "K... Katzchen?" He looked at her, his eyes confused and guilty. "Shh, lover. It's okay." Her mouth was soft and seeking under his. "God, that was intense. What a ride!" She grinned at him. "But... I was... Mein Gott, I acted like the beast they say I am. I'm ashamed, liebe, I could have hurt you. All I could think of was my pleasure." "Lover, I'll tell you a secret. My mom reads romances, and I've read a few. Getting it a little bit rough is a big, big turn on, if we trust the guy who's doing it implicitly, and I trust you. They'd have to give you a lobotomy before you'd ever hurt me. I have absolutely no complaints. That was way good for me." She chuckled. "I wouldn't want it like that every time, but wow!" He looked into her happy eyes, and felt his guilt dissipate. But still... "I don't know if you're sick for liking that, or if I'm just oversensitive," he said finally. "Neither, or a little of both. I don't know. Just trust yourself, like I trust you." "Losing control frightened me. What if you had needed me to stop, and I was too far-gone to listen?" He laid his head on her shoulder. "You would have in a heartbeat, love. You don't give yourself enough credit. Search yourself, and see what I see in your eyes.' He tried to imagine himself hurting her, or even being indifferent to her pain, and drew a blank. He'd rather gnaw his own arm off, and she'd known this of him before he did. He sighed. "You have such faith in me, Katzchen. I hope I am worthy." "You are more than worthy, husband. I've placed my life in your hands." "As you hold mine in yours. Ach, you are better for me than I deserve." "Okay. Let's not have the 'who's worthy' argument, 'cuz it could go on all day." "Still, I'm sorry the way I acted. I... want it to always be good for you." "It was more than good for me. And I hope you're not sorry enough to never do it like that again," she smiled slyly, and started slowly, running a finger down his spine... He moved like a serpent, slipping out of her encircling arm and teasing hand, and pinned her under him, glaring into her brown eyes. "I forbid you to do that again, my wife!" He watched her expression turn stricken, before he allowed a tiny smile to curl his lips. "Unless we are in agreement, and you really mean it. That is fair, ja?" She stared at him blankly before thumping a fist on his chest. "You are a mean, cruel man! Forbidding me like that." She glared at him. "It is more a matter of personal respect, liebe. Triggering my 'on switch' as you say, should be mutually consented to." Her glare subsided. "Still it's not fair, abusing your husbandly authority..." He laughed. "Little minx! Who was abusing whom, with your wandering hand?" He shared a lingering kiss with her. "Now wait, and I'll fix breakfast." He got up and stretched, and as he left he heard her say, "A man who cooks... how lucky is that?" * * * Breakfast was simple, but filling. They ate together in silence, just enjoying the company. He kept looking over at her, to see if she was still there, or if it was some kind of wonderful dream. He caught her doing the same thing. When they finished, he cleared the dishes, and held out his hand to her. Time to use the other things he'd prepared along with breakfast. "Come to the couch with me." She followed him and sat watching him. He had his twine on the spool-table, and a pair of scissors. He cut a piece off that was about four inches long, and a second one that was an inch or two longer. "We cannot have a formal wedding of any faith while in this place, but we can still be married. The old folks in Germany remembered what it was like under the Nazis, or heard tales from people of faith in Communist Russia. In times of oppression, prisoners must make their own way." He took the shorter length of string in his hand. "Give me your left hand." She extended it to him. He tied the string with a snug square knot around her ring finger, and then turned it until the loose ends were at her palm. "With this string, I thee wed." She chuckled at his pun, but her eyes shone with tears. "Keep this with you, liebe. If someone asks, you wear it to remember something. If you can't wear it, stuff it in your pocket. If you lose it, that's okay, I have more twine." He gave her the longer piece, and held out his left hand. She hesitated, and tied it around the outer finger. She slid the string around. "With this string, I thee wed," she said softly. "But what are our vows?" "I promise to love and cherish you, all the days of my life. I will care for you, and respect you, as I would myself." "I will love you, and honor you, until death do us part. I promise to respect your well-being and opinions as I would my own." Tears leaked down her cheeks. He clasped her hands with his, and closed his eyes. "May the God of Abraham, and of Jesus bless our union. We glorify you, O Lord, in whatever we do." He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his sorrow was plain to hear. "There... there may not be children, Gott, but may this marriage bear the fruit of Love. Amen." He bowed his head further, and wept. She moved to him, flinging her arms around him, and they cried together, for the misery that was their now, and for the joys that would never be. When they got themselves under control again, she sniffled and said. "You may kiss the bride." "Dankeshoen, mein Frau." He lifted her chin and kissed her thoroughly and long. "There. Do you feel married now? Because I do." "Yeah..." she said. "And thank you, for always remembering... my faith." "There is so much in common, liebe, it is easy. And I could have done worse. My savior's mother was a nice Jewish girl." He smiled at her and she chuckled again. "You're not..." she started to say, then changed it. "Are you going to ask me to convert?" "Are you going to ask me? I wasn't planning on it, Katzchen. You grew up in a Christian nation. I'm sure you've had lots of opportunities if you wanted one. I won't insult you by preaching salvation at you, unless you want me to. She gave him a tentative look. "Would you mind adding some Jewish traditions?" (*) "I'd be honored if you were to share them with me," he bowed his head to her. She smiled broadly. "Okay! I need to get some things." She bounced into the kitchen and rummaged around. "Do you have anything that will protect your foot from something sharp?" she called back to him. "I could put on my work boot..." he said, getting up. Something sharp? "Perfect. Get one of mine, too, please?" She carried some stuff in, covered by a cloth, as he passed her, heading for their bedroom. He brought back the two boots, and she looked at his curious footwear, before drawing him to the middle of the room. "Stand here, love. Don't move." She began making a slow circle around him. "This has its roots in Ancient times. Back then it would be the first time I saw you, and this is my chance to inspect you." She started the third circle. "It also means that I'm entering your orbit, your sphere of influence, and that you have become the center of my world." She stopped after the seventh revolution. "Seven is the number of completion." "What do I do?" he said, touched by the symbolism. "Some modern ceremonies have the groom doing the same, in the spirit of egalitarianism." She smiled, but left the choice up to him. He smiled back, and pressed on her shoulders to set her in place, then he began to circle her. Looking, really looking at this lovely girl who'd joined herself to him. Seven times he moved around her, then he stopped, and bowed deeply. She curtseyed to him, and then frowned, thinking. "Now there's the stuff about her veil, and the canopy, and his mantle, and most of it doesn't apply to us since we've already been together... so, it's on the cups." She led him back to the couch, and uncovered the stuff there. Two small plastic glasses, and his bottle of juice were there, along with the cloth napkin. "Guess we're lucky this is grape juice this time. It's supposed to be wine." She poured a little in both glasses. "The first cup we share is supposed to formalize the betrothal, and sanctify us." She shrugged. "But it has another meaning. The Cup of Joy means that the joys we share, are joys that are doubled, for both of us." She handed him the glass, and he sipped from it, and then handed it back to her. She drank from it also. She picked up the second glass. "This is shared during the seven blessings, but you've already said blessings over us. There's a second meaning to this one, too. This is the Cup of Sacrifice, and as we drink, we know that because we're together, the sorrows we share are halved, for both of us." She handed it to him. "Drink half." Caught up in the ceremony of what she was doing, he did, and gave it back to her. She finished the juice, and then wrapped it in the napkin, tucking the ends inside. "Put your boot on," she said, and she put hers on. When they were safely shod, she put the wrapped glass on the floor. "Stomp on it. Break it." He gave some good hard stomps, and let her take a turn. When the glass was reduced to shards, she said, "Mazel Tov!" and then picked it up. Kurt looked at her quizzically as they took their boots off. "That means, congratulations." She laid the wrapped bundle on the table, and opened it, revealing the pieces. "Like everything else, this has more than one meaning. First, I guess, is that it's a reminder of the destruction of the Temple. It also means that our old lives are gone for good. There is no turning back; we are bound together for as long as it takes for this to be made whole again." She picked up a piece, and put it in her pocket. She handed him another. "While that 'made whole' line is said, in practice, two pieces are given to the Rabbi. He keeps one, and throws the other in a river. I guess that part is to show that the bond can never be completed, and therefore 'finished', without the intervention of the faith, and an act of God." She rose, drawing him to the blankets that curtained off the hull space. "We don't have a river, but we have the vent. If we throw these out, it really would be an act of God to reunite this thing. Take us "Certainly, Katzchen." He took her in his arms, and ported them up to the top beam. She air-walked over to the vent, holding her shard. He leaped at the vent, jamming a hand in between the vanes, and hanging there like that. She put her piece between the slats, and so did he. They let the plastic shards go, to tumble and fall to the ground so far below. He ported back to the beam, and she phased back to it. He held her for a long moment, and then took them back to the deck. "Urg... That is so strange." She clung to him, catching her breath. "Is that all?" he said softly, fascinated with the traditions she'd shown him. "Oh, the bride and groom would be put in a room together, to indicate their new intimate relationship, and the symbolize they are to be accorded the privacy due a married couple." She shrugged again, which he took to mean that she didn't think the point really applied to them. "Anyway, now, I really feel married." He walked her back to the couch, and settled in the corner with her in his arms. "You didn't say anything about rings. Are rings exchanged?" "Rings? Yes. But it's like the circling thing. The bride gets a plain gold band on her right hand and in a modern ceremony, so does the groom." She nuzzled his neck. "It comes between the cups, somewhere around when the wedding contract is read." "A contract? Sounds like a business deal." And rather cold blooded, he thought. "Marriage can have all sorts of legal complications, especially if there is property or inheritances involved. But it's like a cross between a prenuptial agreement, and the vows in your sort of ceremony. Both parties can put things in it that they want said; promises and the like." He thought for a while, breathing in her scent. "Do you want the string on your right hand?" Part of him was afraid she did, and he wasn't sure why. "What? No. Oh, no." She doubled up her left hand in a protective fist, turning and kissing him. "Kurt, you're Catholic, and I'm Jewish. Those facts aren't going to change anytime soon. Our marriage, and our lives will be a blending of our traditions... so it's right that our wedding is, too. This string-ring you gave me was for your part of it, and I won't change it for anything." A vast sense of relief came over him. He chased the feeling until he pinned it down. "I was afraid... that you would not meet me halfway... that I would have to do all the accommodating. I know that sounds selfish, Katzchen." "No it doesn't. Love, this isn't going to be easy. We will have to both work hard to make this marriage work. There will be times when we fight, but I will always love you. I may be angry, but my love will still be there." "And mine, mein liebe. I can see our love lasting through anything." "Yeah, and we have another advantage. When one of us does something stupid, and the other blows their top... all we have to do is remember where we are... for petting misunderstandings not to be so important anymore." He sighed. "I wish you could meet my family. Mother Szardos would love you." "I... am not so sure I can say the same thing. Mom and Dad were real big on the 'passing for normal' thing. You take some getting used to." "Ja. Don't I know that one..." He felt her wriggle on the lump under her. His hands came up from around her waist to her breasts. "So. Want to retire to our bed, while we still have a honeymoon? But no tail thing, liebe. I want to be able to take my time with you." She mock pouted at him. "Spoilsport. But you have a deal." She hopped up from his lap. "Race ya!" He bolted after her in a mad dash... * Any confusion is hers; she's young and her parents aren't very observant... Don't buy that? Okay, the mistakes are all mine. I'm not Jewish (mostly Celtic bloodlines) but I looked up a dozen pages on Jewish wedding traditions, and sorta gleaned what I thought might be relevant for them. Any one who actually KNOWS this stuff tell me anything that's outta line, plzkthx. Chapter Fithteen Back to Main Page Back to Fanfics Back to Series Index |