i keep on running toward the fire

And if you feel like night is falling
I wanna be the one you're calling

It was the answer itself that put him at ease, but its intensity warmed his veins. He watched her almost hungrily as she picked a snap pea and offered half to him. How could her answer be so in line with his own? He took the offered food silently before making his own selection - playing it safe by picking the same type of finger sandwich she'd selected the first time - and copying her, taking a bite before offering her the other half.

There was something in her voice that he couldn't quite identify - the possessiveness, sure; a hint of jealousy, maybe. But something low and feral and inhuman that, rather than putting him off, only made him more curious about her. Maybe it was fate; maybe it was time he had his head checked. After all, one did not simply chase after beautiful, magical women with a sub-vocal register to their voice. Did they?

It felt a bit like cheating to take her answer, but he chuckled, a low, rich sound, and said, "I also do not share." His voice, though entirely human, matched hers for intensity. "I don't mind a little flirting. Sometimes it's fun to watch," he added, thinking of the way she had charmed the bartender on the beach. "But I want to know its my bed you - my partner is coming home to."

He took a sip of his wine. "I don't believe that counts as a new question, my dear," he told her, and though his tone was playful, something possessive still lingered in his eyes.

'Cause I believe that you could lead the way

George