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Amanda wasn't sure what looked more striking: the Apollo 11 rocket several miles distant, or the green dragon sitting in the gathering crowd. The rocket won—it was going to the moon, after all—but the dragon drew her curiosity. Those watching the launch gave it a wide enough berth. Courtesy, or caution? Either way, the beach was packed with tens of thousands all camped and crowded together, with some having staked out their spot for days. If she wanted a view of the launch she'd have to get close to the dragon.

Her parents might have warned her away, but they were on the other side of Florida, probably watching on their old TV. For her, this would have to be part of the adventure.

She stepped close enough to see the dragon's face, and stopped, realizing this was as close as she'd ever gotten to one. Its eyes were fixed on the horizon, and if it hadn't been for the slight twitches of its slender ears, Amanda would have thought it a statue. Two pale horns swept back from the top of its head, mostly straight and barely more than the length of her forearm. She thought that meant the dragon was female, but couldn't be sure. Below them, a pair of spiny frills extended halfway down her neck.

An ear swiveled, and then the dragon looked sidelong at her, barely turning its sleek muzzle. Its nostrils narrowed as it took in a breath. "Am I disturbing you?"

Her heart seized for a moment. Its large head and long neck had let it see over the crowd before turning, and it still stood at least six feet off the ground. She couldn't quite tell how big the rest of its body was, sitting as it was with furled wings concealing half its form, but horse-sized wasn't far off. Rather than stare, she focused back on its face. The one visible eye was silvery gray with a narrower pupil, almost like a cat's, fixed on her with keen intelligence.

She forced herself to recall manners, if nothing else. "No, not at all, and I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. It's just hard to find a good view with so many people."

"This isn't the best seat on the beach, I'm afraid. Those have been staked out for quite some time." The slight pauses on soft sounds and rasps between syllables belied a mouth not made for human speech. Still, it was a calm, deep voice, and her enunciation seemed more like an accent than an impediment. "You're more than welcome to come closer." A pause. Even though the closest person to Amanda was well out of reach, the dragon shifted a half-step to the side. "There will be enough room, if you want it."

"Very kind of you." She took a breath, smiled, and took the last few steps. A respectful distance was only proper, but she was almost close enough to reach out and touch the green hide. Any anxiety had quickly given way to excitement; they were both there to see history in the making, after all. She had no reason to be afraid.

"Beautiful weather, isn't it?" Amanda looked up at the sky, and hoped she wasn't being awkward, or rude. Did one chat with a dragon? They weren't too uncommon, one for every few hundred humans if she remembered right, but they didn't exactly walk the streets even in larger cities. It seemed wrong that she didn't know.

Fortunately, the dragon dipped its head in a nod, and then kept her eye almost level with Amanda's. "Excellent visibility, yes. It should be an amazing launch."

"I hope so." She brushed a lock of brown hair from her face. "It's my first time seeing one, in person at least. I can't believe we're sending a man to the moon."

A rumble sounded from the dragon's chest—a chuckle, she realized. "Two men, in fact, and a third in orbit. This is already my favorite launch."

"Oh, so this isn't your first?"

"No. I've seen all the Apollo launches, and a few of the later Mercury missions as well."

Amanda blinked in shock and looked up into the silvery eye. "My goodness. That many?"

"I like to watch them." Another pause, and the dragon looked at the distant launch pad before returning attention to her. "It's the pinnacle of flight. We have our wings, but even the greatest dragon must land eventually. Now there's science that can break free from gravity."

"I never thought of it that way." She looked up. "I love the pictures they've shot from space. The world looks so beautiful."

"Too beautiful to spoil."

She found herself smiling. "That's what I've always thought, though sometimes I wonder if it's foolish. People always seem to find something to fight about." The smile faded a little, from self-consciousness as much as thought of the war. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up politics."

Another deep, quiet chuckle. "Concern for the world isn't something to apologize for. Or so I believe. Perhaps it's foolish of me, too."

"I don't think so. Maybe that's what we all need." Amanda turned more towards the dragon, pointedly ignoring the way a couple people were staring—as if trying to catch her attention, as if to subtly warn her away. What danger was there? The last unprovoked dragon attack had been over a decade ago. This was an opportunity. "I'm Amanda."

"Venia. A pleasure to meet you." It was definitely a feminine name. Part of her still hesitated to make assumptions, but she knew her instinct was right.

"Likewise." She would have said more, but someone shouted the time: sixty seconds left until launch. A thrill ran through her, and she turned to the rocket on the distant pad even though nothing had changed.

Those seconds crept by, and she stole a glance at Venia. Her eyes were trained on the rocket again, with only the rise and fall of her chest to suggest she wasn't carved from jade. Now that Amanda was closer, she could see the outlines of muscles beneath the green hide. Her sleek build hid deceptive strength—dragons could pull over a ton, or fly with nearly half their weight over short distances. Despite their bestial forms, they were no less intelligent than people. Most of them could even breathe fire.

And, apparently, at least one of them enjoyed rocket launches.

"My heart's racing," Amanda murmured.

A soft chuckle. "Mine, too. Look!"

She saw nothing at first, but a moment later thick smoke billowed out from around the launch pad. It almost seemed like it would completely obscure the view, it was so thick. Then a bright flare rose above the smoke—it almost seemed slow, until she remembered how big the rocket was—and arced up towards the faint clouds.

The crowd was hushed, awed, until the teeth-rattling rumble of the distant launch reached them. Thunder couldn't sound so deep. Gasps of surprise turned to cheers almost loud enough to drown out the roar of the massive engines. A shiver ran down her spine at the sheer power of it, and Venia's wings twitched and rustled against her sides when Amanda stole a glance.

For her part, Venia was staring at the rocket like it was the only thing in the world, though one of her ears slowly swiveled towards Amanda. The expression on her face could only be described as a giddy smile. A grin, even, inadvertently displaying her fangs as her head tracked the launch's progress. They could certainly do damage if she were so inclined, but if Amanda had been expecting fear at the sight of them, she didn't find it.

It was strange and unfamiliar, to be sure, but what did that matter in a world where men could reach out and touch the moon?

The chatter around them grew exuberant as the Saturn V soared beyond their sight, and she watched the curve of the smoke trail twist in the breeze before turning to Venia. The dragon slowly relaxed, though she didn't look away from the sky for a long minute. It was almost as if she was in prayer.

A couple people glanced their way while they packed up chairs and coolers, but nobody said anything. Perhaps they thought she was a handler. The thought didn't sit well. Such a beautiful being didn't deserve handling like some sort of animal.

Venia caught her all but staring, and tilted her head. "Is something wrong?"

"No! No," Amanda said, a little too quickly. "You just looked very, ah, focused. Almost like you wanted to be up there with them."

"I was lost in thought." Then she hesitated. "Do you think it'd be possible for a dragon to be an astronaut?"

Amanda grinned. "Of course! Anything is possible."

Venia smiled too—though her smile formed less from her lips and more from the perk of her ears and playful spark in her eyes. "I like the sound of that." The ears seemed so much more expressive than Amanda had thought possible, pivoting and flaring to follow her voice. "And what would you be, if you could be anything?"

"A lawyer, I think," she answered, after a moment. "I wanted to be President when I was little, but so did most of my friends. Along with astronaut, dinosaur tamer, and everything else kids dream of." She had to giggle. "It felt like we could do anything, back then."

"And now?"

She gave a wry smile. "And now, my parents are sending me to college so I don't have to wait tables for the next thirty years or rely on, on a husband's income." The last was a lie, probably, but she was getting better at that. Then, she wondered. "What about when you were younger? If you don't mind my asking."

"Of course not. I—."

She stopped and turned, and Amanda followed her gaze. A man leaned against a shovel about a half dozen feet away. She didn't know why he had it, but then, the people camping out had put down stakes and other things. It didn't seem like it had been used much.

"You alright, miss?"

Amanda wasn't sure what he meant, at first. "Perfectly, sir, we were just talking about the launch. Wasn't it magnificent?"

His gaze softened at the mention of the launch. "Quite the wonder, I'll agree." He settled his eyes on Venia again and casually gestured at her. "You'd best be moving along, though. The trailers need room to move out of here."

Amanda frowned; the parked cars and pop-up campers were several rows back, and deep enough in the crowd that they wouldn't be moving for hours. "Aren't we far enough away?"

The man considered for a moment. "I didn't want to be rude, but the dragon is scaring some of the families. Some of my friends might not be too comfortable with you being alone, too, miss." His tone was polite, but not warm.

Venia lowered her head almost halfway to the ground. The gesture seemed oddly submissive. "I was just leaving. I meant no harm."

He grunted, and seemed ready to stay and watch until someone called for him. His nod to Amanda was far more cordial. "Have a nice day, miss. Stay safe." With one last glance to Venia, he left.

Amanda's stomach felt like it sank a foot and shrank to a fist. Venia hadn't been threatening anyone, and she could see past the veil to the intolerance underneath. She'd been raised to be the quiet, demure lady who'd stood there and condoned the man's concerns, however invalid. But part of her, the part that frequented clandestine campus meetings, the part that read the subversive and scandalous and radical, wanted to shout after him. She let out a breath. It wasn't worth making a scene over—not when she was alone and the encounter already over.

Besides, Venia had mumbled a farewell, and was already turning to leave.

"Wait." She reached out, and after a moment's hesitation, placed her hand on Venia's shoulder. The hide was warm and supple, not quite like leather but still smooth and a little soft. The feel of muscles shifting underneath and the faint thrum of a heartbeat almost distracted her from what she was trying to say. "You don't have to leave. I mean, we can meet up somewhere else to talk. If that's okay?" She didn't know what else to do, but hopefully it would help.

Venia tilted her head, but didn't pull away. "I, um. I'd like that." She smiled, in her own way. "But I'm not from around here, and I don't think we'll find anywhere quieter before I have to fly home."

Amanda grimaced. "I should probably head back, too." Her hand was still on Venia's shoulder, and she pulled it back to adjust her purse straps. A little warmth crept into her cheeks, matching the lingering memory of the touch on her palm. "My friend has a car, but it'll probably take all day to get back to FSU."

"Then I—wait," Venia said, ears flaring. "Florida State? You live in Tallahassee?" At Amanda's nod, the fanged grin reappeared. "I'm just outside Quincy, twenty miles northwest."

"Oh, small world!" Amanda started to reach for paper, then realized she didn't have a pen to write down her number or address. Memory would have to do. "We could meet in a couple days, if you're free? There's plenty of outdoor space at the campus."

Venia didn't appear to consider long before nodding. "When, and where?"

Venia used the highway as a guide until she saw the sprawl of Tallahassee. It wasn't too difficult to fly over a city, so long as one used the right approach to avoid tangling with aircraft. She banked, searching for the university. Amanda hadn't seen the campus from the air, but her directions and Venia's general familiarity with the city would do just fine.

She almost rolled as she wheeled through the sky, still giddy from the launch. Two days had passed—only two more until the landing—and it was already her favorite out of all of them. She wanted to experience that thrill, to defy the pull of the earth for long enough to brush the edge of space and see the stars. Dragons were too large and heavy to send in a capsule, but ten years had brought them so far. Ten more could see men on other planets, and why not send dragons, too? Human technology was nothing short of miraculous. Mad, to strap men atop a massive rocket with seven and a half millions pounds of thrust at their backs, but a brilliant madness all the same.

It had been a very good launch indeed.

And, as a bonus, she'd met a pleasant young woman. She hadn't expected to arrange a meeting, and had no idea what they would talk about, but curiosity pulled her onwards.

A cry reached her ears, and she searched the sky until she saw the other dragon a few thousand feet away. She responded, they traded a brief introduction, and then shared snippets about the weather and their destinations as they flew past each other. Common courtesy demanded the greeting, and mild interest prompted the conversation—such as it was, comprised of a pidgin form of their language. Flybys didn't lend themselves to verbosity.

Then, he was gone, and Venia continued onward. The city streets were familiar enough, and she scanned for the campus. It didn't take long to find the buildings, and a few minutes later she circled in for a landing. Fortunately, there was plenty of open area.

She didn't need too much space even if she came to a running stop, but the roaring downbeats that kept her from crashing headlong into the ground were rather loud and disruptive. Landings were often discouraged even in public spaces. Aside from a few looks her way, nobody came to chastise her, and she padded up to the main path in search of Amanda.

The young woman was intriguing, to say the least. The initial hesitation to approach was out of deference, not fear, which was refreshing. More than that, she seemed genuinely interested in conversation. And that smile! So very full of life and optimism. Venia hoped to see it again, and maybe even a laugh if she was lucky.

"Venia!" Amanda was waving from a nearby bench. A lone dragon was easier to spot than a woman in a crowd of humans, of course. "I'm glad you could make it," she said, when Venia got close enough for more casual conversation. One of those smiles was on her face, and she used her hands to brush a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair back over her ear.

"So am I," she replied, dipping her head—both in greeting, and to meet Amanda's hazel eyes. Towering over humans tended to intimidate them. "I hope you had an easy trip back from the launch?"

Amanda nodded. "How was your flight?"

"Uneventful." Venia had fed, flown, and found what looked to be the first steps towards a new friendship. She wanted for nothing, but walking around was pleasant enough, and the company quite agreeable. So they walked, and in between the woman's stories came Venia's questions. After the better part of an hour, Amanda paused before answering, and took a long look at her.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Amanda said, hastily. "I just realized I've been doing most of the talking, I'm sorry. It's rather rude of me."

Venia chuckled. "Not at all. I would rather listen."

Amanda nodded. "Still, I want to know about you, too. If that's okay?" Despite her polite tone, her expression was set—she would probably back down if the answer was no, but even if they kept talking, the question would never come again.

Now it was Venia's turn to hesitate. "It is, um." She felt at a loss for words. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk, but voicing her concerns required more honesty. Small talk on the beach was one thing, but now she'd flown more than a few miles for the hopes of good company. Most of the humans who bothered to ask saw her as little more than a curiosity, and some of those had appeared all too genuine until she'd tried to form a connection.

If this friendship was a lie, it was best to find out before becoming invested.

"I would like to, Amanda," Venia said, finally finding the words, "but I'd respectfully ask why you'd want to know?"

"Do I need a reason?" They'd come to a stop, and Amanda turned to face her. A frown started to crease her features. "I was just curious, is all."

In her thirty years of life, Venia had heard variations of 'just curious' more times than she could count, whether from people who really weren't or from those who were all too eager to pry. They rarely bothered her, anymore, except this time it stung. She knew she could easily be in the wrong for asking, even if for the right reasons. But, this time, she wanted her suspicions proven wrong.

"Please don't take this the wrong way." Her tail curled, as if mirroring the knot she felt in her belly, but she couldn't go back. "If I may be honest, most people who get this close usually view me as an exotic beast that can talk, if that. A curiosity."

Amanda drew back. "Do you think that's how I see you?" She opened her mouth to say more, then stopped. Emotions flickered across her face, but Venia couldn't read them. Human expressions were too strange.

Still, it seemed prudent to defuse any potential conflict. Venia shook her head and lowered her muzzle further. "No, no. Or at least, I hope that you don't." She slowly rustled her wings, trying to bleed off some of the nervous energy coursing through her.

Fortunately, Amanda relaxed, and waved her hand as if to dismiss the concern. "Not at all. I'm sorry if I gave that impression. Really, I am." She took a step closer. "I know we just met, so I'd hate to give offense, even if it's just out of plain dumb ignorance."

"None taken. And I don't believe you're ignorant," Venia said, daring to raise her head back to Amanda's level.

She smiled, at that. "Thank you. Although, I really don't know that much about dragons, I'm sorry."

Venia gave her best approximation of a shrug—more of a rise and fall of the wings than her shoulders. "How else do we learn?"

"You do have a point." Her smile grew, and she reached up as if to touch her, but caught herself. "It still feels like I'm imposing. You shouldn't have to educate people."

"I don't have to. But, if I enjoy someone's company enough, I don't mind it at all." She leaned closer to the woman's not quite outstretched hand. "You aren't an imposition."

"I'm glad to hear it." She didn't miss the invitation, and tentatively trailed her fingers over Venia's muzzle. "And for things like this—I wasn't sure if touching you was too, I don't know, familiar?"

Venia hummed and gave a small smile of her own, feeling the warmth in Amanda's hand as it glided over her hide. "A little, but I don't mind that, either."

Amanda nodded, and stroked down her long neck. "There's just so many differences. Not that that's a bad thing, not at all." Her voice grew quiet again. "It may be a little radical of me, but we need more of that. Different people coming together, learning, making things better."

"If that's radical," Venia murmured, "then I'm a fanatic."

That got a giggle from the woman. Venia wanted to wrap a wing around her and hear more of her laughter, but their proximity was drawing enough glances already. Curiously, she didn't really care. They could mind their own business.

Still, she restrained herself to leaning into the woman's touch—no sense in drawing undue attention.

"I'm glad you agree," Amanda said after a few moments. "We do things not because they are easy, but because they are hard, or so the saying goes."

Venia watched Amanda's expressions. She wasn't too much older than the woman, she thought, but there was so much life and hope! It was a refreshing change from the odd jobs where she made her month's pay. It was better than the superficial curiosity, fear, suspicion, and even hatred—.

She arrested those thoughts before they could run away with themselves. Bad experiences were a little too common for her liking, but she knew humanity was better. She had an excellent example right in front of her, and she knew Amanda wasn't the only one. Though if she were being honest, she preferred the present company to those other potentials.

"Are you okay?" Amanda had stopped stroking her neck, apparently picking up on her confliction.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thoughts of work, is all," she hastened to reassure her. "I like that you remember that Kennedy speech."

She grinned, and when Venia leaned into her palm again she resumed the attentions. "Where do you work?"

"Many places, but most of my pay comes from a carnival of sorts. I've done a few jobs for them, but mostly I'm around to give dragon rides to small children." She paused. "The manager is, perhaps, less than kind. We're rarely allowed food or drink when we're working, but I suppose it's better than starving altogether."

"That's horrible, though!" Amanda's hand pressed against her shoulder, below the wing joint. "You really ought to quit, and find better work. You deserve better. And so do your friends."

Venia found herself smiling, despite the memories of the place. "I ought to, but I'm worried that finding work will be... difficult. There are only so many opportunities."

Amanda's lip moved, and Venia realized she was chewing it. It was something she hadn't seen humans do, but it didn't seem painful. Curious. "Well, I do have some spare spending money from my parents. If you needed food, or whatever else."

Her ears flattened. "No, no. I couldn't ask that of you."

A smile. "That's why I'm offering. Friends help each other—if you want to be friends, I mean? I know we just met."

"Thank you, Amanda." Surprises and surprises, but she was coming to expect that. "If I am in need, I'll keep your offer in mind. As for friendship?" She matched the smile with her own. "I believe we're off to a fine start."

The warmth hung between them, uninterrupted, until Venia gestured her free wing towards the buildings. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to ask. "So, what are you studying?"

Law, it turned out; over the next hour, they traded even more tales of her studies and Venia's work. The next day, they met again, but only briefly—she had a half day's shift at the carnival, and Amanda's summer study took up the better part of an afternoon. Still, it was a pleasant diversion.

As days passed, they met twice more—and not just in the middle of campus. Amanda's dorms weren't built for dragons, but when the weather was pleasant they found parks and quiet streets to walk. Venia had been unsure what to offer in the face of her new friend's intellectual pursuits, but quickly found that stories about people from her various jobs—complete with exaggerated re-enactments, if space allowed—offered plenty of entertainment.

Two weeks after their first meeting, when an opportunity came to move to one of the dragon houses in Tallahassee proper, Venia took it without hesitation. 'House' was perhaps a generous term, and the first time Amanda saw it, she was silent for a short while.

"You can speak your thoughts." Venia chuckled. "It's not much, I know, but it was available."

"Honestly?" Amanda's lips tightened, and she was silent another few seconds before continuing. "I'm surprised this is where they expect you to live. It's basically a shanty."

She wasn't wrong. It had cheap metal siding, the roofing material was indeterminable, and it only had a single room with an outhouse a few dozen paces down the gravel path. Still, it was better than Quincy's best: a half-rotted barn that still smelled of tobacco. This 'house' had proper bedding, a lightbulb, and most impressively, a small air conditioner. It barely worked, but it did make the summer heat tolerable.

It was also far closer to the city, and to Amanda.

"It is," Venia said, smiling, "but it's enough."

By the end of the second month, Venia had visited enough to see patterns. Specifically, another woman who often shared company with Amanda, but didn't follow her to their meetings. They might have just been friends, but the more she watched, the more she saw how they grew close without touching, or how Amanda's gaze lingered on her for longer than a casual glance. Was that love? She didn't dare broach the subject.

At least, not until later. Not until the woman was gone, and Amanda had missed their usual meeting.

Venia waited, then went to the dorm building. More and more students were returning from their homes or vacations as the new school year loomed, and it took less than a minute to get one's attention.

"Excuse me," Venia said, "do you know an Amanda David?"

The young woman folded her arms, not quite frowning. "Why do you want to know?"

Her ears flattened at the suspicion in that voice, but she pressed on. "We were supposed to meet. Would you be kind enough to ask for her?"

A long look, then a shrug. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Minutes passed, and Venia finally realized the woman likely hadn't asked. The next student was more agreeable, and not long after she'd disappeared through the too-small door, Amanda came out with a somewhat harried look.

"Are you okay?" Venia corralled her closer with a wing. The dark circles under her eyes stood out in the late afternoon sun. "What happened?"

Amanda bit her lower lip, though not the way she did when lost in thought. "I'm sorry," she muttered, looking away. "Lost track of time."

Venia didn't buy it, but a mix of intuition and experience told her to tread lightly. "That doesn't seem like you," she said, gently. "If you'd like to talk, I'm here."

The next moments stretched on as Amanda fidgeted, looked around, made a small noise in her throat—and finally slumped as she came to a decision. "I just got a letter from my—from a friend. We were dating." She let out a ragged sigh. "Apparently, not anymore."

"I'm sorry," Venia said, closing her wing around the woman and offering a shoulder to lean on, which she did. "Trust me when I say the pain will pass, no matter how deep it may hurt now."

Amanda nodded, slowly, and rested her cheek on Venia's neck. "I just thought things were getting better. We'd had some disagreements, but," she murmured, then trailed off. "I guess I'd always imagined this would happen face to face, if it did, not a damn letter under my door." The woman's cheeks flushed at the curse—it was the first she'd uttered, at least in Venia's company.

It was an effort not to smile at the transgression, even if during trying circumstances.

"You do deserve better." Venia brought the wing in a little closer, protecting her—a few of the students had paused to look at the unusual spectacle. This wasn't a moment to share with them. "It's that person's loss. Would you like to find somewhere quieter to talk?" If her suspicions were right, the woman would need the privacy.

Amanda nodded and stepped back, but stayed close as they walked down a more secluded path. Venia struggled to read the emotions on the woman's face; she had gotten better at reading the various smiles and grimaces and other ways human features could move, able to see tension and a faraway look that bespoke more than heartbreak.

When they stopped, Amanda turned to her with a slight frown. "What did you mean by 'that person?' It's just, um. It's the way you said it." Her cheeks grew redder, but that old glint of curiosity—and something else, perhaps, but Venia couldn't say for sure.

She did, however, know that the skies ahead were turbulent. "Ah, awkward translation on my part. We have a neutral term for others in our tongue. 'They?' No, that isn't right." She affected a shrug with her wings. It took effort to keep her ears from pinning back at the clumsy overture, but she had no better plan to help the truth out of her friend. "English is difficult, sometimes."

Amanda's expression turned contemplative as she reached out to stroke Venia's neck. Venia didn't know how she could recognize the change, since one furrowed brow still looked like another. "So," she said, following the thought, "you usually refer to others with that, instead of something like he or she?"

Venia nodded. "It helps limit assumptions, I suppose." She wished she could just say that she knew, or at least suspected, but humans were strange about matters of who one mated with, or that mating happened at all.

"And if, you know, if it wasn't a he?" There was a crack in Amanda's voice, and her hand froze on Venia's hide. She probably thought she'd said too much.

"It isn't unknown," Venia murmured, keeping her voice soft and warm. "Though I think our cultures struggle with what they don't understand. It tends to stay hidden, though it certainly isn't easy."

"No, it's not," Amanda whispered. Her eyes closed, she took in a breath, and then looked up at Venia. The decision, it seemed, had been made. "I have something to tell you, if, um. I think I can trust you."

Venia dipped her head to Amanda's level, and gave a small smile. "Yes, you can tell me. I won't break your confidence. Though, I think I may know." Her heart tightened as Amanda blushed and looked away. It had been too bold a statement, perhaps, and might frighten Amanda into not speaking—.

"It was a she," Amanda blurted, voice quiet and strained, eyes wide but fierce. "Not a guy."

Venia nodded, and her smile widened. There it was. She had a decision of her own, but it was easier with the ice already broken. "I'm gay too, Amanda." The woman's eyes widened further, but the tension in her brow and jaw slackened as the words sank in. "You have nothing to fear from me. In this matter least of all."

By the time she'd finished, Amanda's arms were around her neck, holding her in a surprisingly tight grip. She mantled her wings, shielding them from prying looks, and curled the rest of her neck and head around the woman's back.

"I should have realized dragons could be gay, too." Her voice was quiet, almost strained. She relaxed her arms, but still stayed close. "Sorry, that wasn't, um. Sorry."

Venia hummed. "You're fine, I'm not offended. Dragons are more open in matters of sexuality with one another, but we are rather reserved with humans. Oftentimes it's difficult, though I imagine the strain must be far greater for you."

Amanda nodded, and took a steadying breath. "It is. My stepdad is really religious—well, I've told you how he can be. High school was when it got really difficult. I fell for a couple girls, but I was so ashamed, and scared. I thought it was temptation, or evil, or whatever else. So I tried to ignore it, and even dated a guy for a couple months to convince myself I was normal." She rolled her eyes. "Big mistake. Then I tried to hide it, but once I got to FSU, someone from the pride group on campus was passing out fliers, I read a book at one of their meetings, and I... well, I couldn't keep fighting myself. It's who I am."

Venia nuzzled over her shoulder. She wanted to give a more proper grooming—shared affection was the best remedy for troubled hearts—but something told her Amanda wasn't quite ready for a dragon tongue bath.

"I just worry my parents won't understand. My mom might? I don't know." She let out a sigh, and rubbed along Venia's neck. "Thank you. For listening, and, well. How long have you known? About yourself, that is. If you don't mind me asking."

Venia chuckled. "I don't mind. Part of me always suspected I was different, and by the time I reached adolescence, I knew it was so. My sire was hardly surprised when I told him my feelings."

A smile broke on Amanda's face, breaking up the shadows that had plagued her since the start of the meeting. "How did he take it?"

"Well enough." She ruffled her wings, and resettled them around her companion. "Do you plan on telling your parents?"

It was a long while before Amanda answered. "I don't know. Maybe if I explained to them, they'd at least know it's not, I don't know, evil or anything?"

"I don't know them," Venia said, and chose her next words with some care. "But, from what you've told me, they may strictly judge what they see as immorality. The proper words might sway them. Might." She touched the tip of her rounded snout to Amanda's cheek. "It's a risk. If I may, I'd suggest caution."

"You're right, I'll have to be careful," Amanda said. "One way or another, I'll figure something out."

The silence weighed on them after that, though not unpleasantly. She still seemed hollowed, but bit by bit, the woman in her wings relaxed. Venia hadn't realized she was a little tense herself; their plans for the afternoon had certainly been thrown into disarray. This was too important to dismiss. She felt responsible for Amanda's safety, in a way, and not just in the physical sense.

For now, though, she had to change the subject. "So, tell me about your upcoming classes?"

The next couple days passed uneventfully, but Amanda's heart stayed stubbornly hollow. It would get easier, and with six days left until her first class, she felt a glimmer of hope that she could face her studies without distraction.

That was when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Amanda?" The voice of her mother came through the receiver. "Honey, are you okay?"

She nearly smacked her head into her palm. Between the breakup and the preparations, she'd forgotten to call her parents for well over a week. "I'm fine, mom, I'm fine. I just got caught up with school starting soon." A click and faint buzz suggested her stepfather had picked up the other phone and was listening.

Usually, he was silent, but today he wasn't. His voice was baritone and commanding. "We were very worried for you. You should apologize to your mother, especially."

"I'm sorry, mom." Amanda took a breath, and gripped the phone a little tighter. "And to you too, father, I know I should have called earlier. I'm really sorry."

"Apology accepted." He let out a short breath—not quite a sigh, but not simply an exhale. "Please be more considerate in the future."

Her mother's voice jumped in pitch, trying to lighten the mood. "It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments, it's just important to learn from them. That's all. Are you all set for your classes?"

The conversation lightened after that, though the real reason for her lack of contact weighed on Amanda as she described a case she'd read about earlier that week. Lying to her parents was sinful, forbidden—especially to her stepfather, who never compromised when it came to laws of the home.

In a way, she'd lied by not telling them about the breakup. If she told them she'd had a breakup, they'd want to know about the guy. Then she'd have to lie about that—and really, she'd been lying to them for the whole length of the relationship. It was a war between the agitations of so many of her peers, that every woman should be her own woman, and the strict lessons of home, where God and man ruled without question or disobedience.

The sense of dread was like a stone settling in her gut. The tingling in her fingers soon turned to shakes, which distracted and distressed. Before long, the decision was forced.

"Are you really alright, Amanda?" Her mother's voice was calm, soothing. It sounded like home. "You sound, well, I don't know. Worried."

"I'm alright, really," Amanda said, hopefully not too fast. "It's just a big semester." But she was worried—did that make another lie? It had seemed so easy to never say a word.

She expected her mom's voice in reply, to dismiss the need to answer, but her stepfather's voice broke in. "I trust you're not hiding something from us." It sounded like home, if one's home were a pulpit on a pedestal.

Her mouth was dry, and Amanda tried to keep a level tone. "I was seeing somebody over the summer, but we broke up. I was, um. I thought it might get serious when classes started, but I was wrong." Her voice caught on the last word. It was a good effect, she thought, hating that she had to use half-truths. "I don't really want to talk about it."

That was her stepfather's cue to remind her that God was all-knowing, and had a plan. "College life can be a trial. I just want to trust that you still walk a good path." He continued, and she tried to be dutiful and listen to every word. Her mother was silent, as she usually was during the religious outpourings.

Amanda hadn't felt so thoroughly torn since those first moments, years ago in high school, when she'd come to realize her feelings for some of the girls had been more than friendship. Now she'd had a relationship with another woman, one that had gone a little farther than kissing and holding hands. Not terribly far—clothes had stayed on, mostly—but enough to preclude any confusion.

She was gay. She couldn't believe it was a sin, not anymore, but lying about it was another matter. Coming out to her pride group, to a couple professors, and to Venia had gone well enough. Surely she could show her parents, somehow, that it wasn't wrong to love another human being.

"There is something else," she said, haltingly. "But I was afraid to tell you."

"You can tell us anything," her mother said. "We love you, Amanda. We always have."

The words brought comfort to her spirit, and she took a steadying breath before starting. "I've been struggling with this for a while, and I've read my Bible over and over trying to make sense of it. But I think it's alright."

Stepfather was silent, but her mother's voice had regained its notes of concern. "What are you trying to tell us?"

Amanda took another breath. There was no turning back. "I'm gay."

The line went so quiet she feared they'd hung up.

"It's okay, though." She kept talking, hurrying, hoping to make things right before they jumped to any conclusions. "It's not like some evil thing, it's not hurting anyone. It's love, like the kind that—." She trailed off, unsure if they were still listening. "It isn't wrong."

"Honey," her mother said, slow and deliberate, "I know it's strange, being in college with all these new experiences, but it's not, it's not gay to have friendships with women. Sometimes they're just closer than others, sharing things, but that's natural."

She wanted to agree, to say that had been it, that she'd just been confused. There was something in that tone, in the way those words were spoken, that opened the door for her to walk back everything she'd just said. Maybe not perfectly—Biblical lectures a-plenty would dominate the next calls and visits—but enough to make a practical exit from dangerous territory.

She also felt that anger, again. The anger that had sprung up during readings in her pride group, that anger which choked her when reading about the horrors of America's past and even its present days with young men drafted and dying in some jungle halfway across the world, and the anger that had struck her on that beach weeks ago when Venia's presence—if not existence—had been challenged. She was gay. She knew this for a fact, and whether it was the desire to avoid sin or the need to no longer be caged and closeted, she had to fight for the truth of her very being.

"No." The anger didn't inflame her, cloud her mind, or threaten to tear its way out of her. It was the quiet, slowly burning sort that gave her the strength to keep speaking. "It was more than that, mom. We were in love." Were. The memories threatened to choke her off, but she had cried enough. "Nothing unnatural happened. Just love."

"Honey, Amanda." The voice on the other end was growing more urgent. "It's just a phase. You're young, out of the home, these things happen—."

"It's not a phase," she cut in, heedless of the warning. Perhaps the anger wasn't so quiet after all. "I've been feeling this way since, since high school. Before then, even. I've always known, but I never let myself accept it until now. I'm gay. It's who I am."

"Enough." The unyielding ultimatum in her stepfather's voice cut through any sense of triumph at the announcement. "That's enough, Amanda. Go to the office in the morning and get your tuition back. We're coming down there to take you home."

"What?" She was reeling as the sheer magnitude of her miscalculation crashed down on her, but she was coherent enough to realize there was no going back from that decision. "No, I can't. I won't."

Her mother's voice grew far away, almost indistinct. "—isn't the right way to handle this, please, let me talk sense into her—."

"Enough. I will not be contradicted in my own house, Karen." Silence on the other line, until only one voice returned. "And I will not be contradicted by you, Amanda. It is sin. Good people can't live in sin, or else, else." A pause. "Good people can't live in sin. It is sin, Amanda. I prayed this wouldn't happen. I prayed that college wouldn't take you from the narrow path, that all these new thoughts and ideas wouldn't lead you astray. But now you come to us with, with this?" A long sigh. "No, Amanda. You need to come home, and come back to the Lord. I cannot permit this to continue."

Somehow, from the crushing weight of shame and terror that piled on her with every word and condemnation, Amanda found her last bit of strength. "I won't go. I'm nineteen. They won't let you take me, and I won't go." She dug her nails into her knee, not caring if they broke the skin. It was the least of the pain she felt. It was a mistake to refuse the master of the house. It was a greater mistake to let him take her home, then to God knew where to be 'corrected.' There was no way out for her anymore. "I can't," she whispered, choked.

The quiet drew on until stepfather's voice resumed, somber. "Then let them have you. I hope, I pray, you find your way back." A creak, as if the plastic receiver was being squeezed in a large, clenched fist. "I will be praying. I don't know what you did, or what we did, that you would—that He would made you like this. I don't know. But until you work through this, until you come to your senses, I can't support it."

Then, a click, and the line went dead.

She wished everything else had gone dead with it.

Amanda didn't know when she had put the phone down, or when she had grabbed her purse and started walking. At first, she didn't even know where she was headed, but somewhere in the blur the streets looked familiar enough. Loud voices, too loud for human throats, came and passed as she made her way through a compound. None of the inhabitants paid her notice.

At least, not until she knocked on a door.

"Amanda?" Venia's head was just past the doorway, and tilted in confusion. "I wasn't expecting you."

Amanda walked inside, limbs feeling like lead, and barely registered the click of the door latch behind her. It was too much, and the moment the dragon turned to greet her more properly, she broke. Something tugged at her—wings, a wide forepaw, and then she was nestled snug against her warm hide, with soothing murmurs fighting the words and thoughts and feelings and shame, all of the shame, that threatened to tear her apart.

She didn't know how long she hugged Venia, or why she'd sought her out instead of her pride group friends. If nothing else, at least she knew that she was safe here, protected, and spared from any judgment by a kindred spirit. Another beautiful person, even if she had wings and horns.

"Would I be wrong in assuming you spoke to your parents?" Venia asked, minutes or hours later, when Amanda had recovered to the point of coherency. She shook her head, and Venia nodded. "I'm sorry, for whatever they said to you. You don't deserve this pain."

"Maybe I do," Amanda whispered, looking down at the small bruises forming just below her kneecap. "Maybe they're right, maybe I've just been fooling myself into thinking this wasn't sinful, or—."

A growl cut her off; it wasn't just a sound, but a deep, rolling rumble with an unmistakable edge of warning. She looked up, heart skipping, having never heard that tone—or felt it, since it was more than strong enough to rattle her own chest—from her companion. Venia's lips were curled just enough to bare a hint of fang, but when she maneuvered her larger head to stare Amanda down, there was no trace of anger there. At least, not towards her.

"No, Amanda," Venia said, drawing close. "You don't. They aren't right, and you aren't in the wrong. What we are is nothing to be ashamed of, and you know this."

It was hard to argue with a dragon, but the weight of everything was almost too much to face. "It's just... why? Why would they do that?" It took a few halting attempts, but she finally relayed the whole of the conversation. By the end, Venia was near to growling again, but the gentle strokes of her paw on Amanda's back belied her concern and care. "It isn't fair," she said, after looking back with a fresher perspective. "None of this is fair."

"No, it isn't," Venia said, nodding agreement and then nuzzling her cheek. "Will you be able to pay for your tuition at the college?"

Amanda had to crack a grin. "They gave me the money so I could 'learn to write a check, if my husband isn't around,' so this year's tuition is in my name. They can't take it back." Then, she sighed. "The next two years are a different story."

"I'm sure there are jobs you could work to make the money."

"There are, yeah. My roommate worked tables at a diner, I can see if she can get me a reference. I might have to work the whole summer and during the winter break to make a full year plus room and board, though." She felt numb, but at least she was thinking. "A nickel jar can pay for textbooks."

And so the planning went. Amanda relaxed as they talked, though bile still burned her throat whenever she thought about her last conversation with her parents. She wasn't the most capable woman on the planet, but she wasn't helpless. There were friends, college resources, and a beautiful dragon to lean on for advice and support.

She'd survived her first year of college.

She'd survived her first breakup.

She could survive this, too.

By the time her classes had started, Amanda was doing better, at least to Venia's estimation. She was still reeling from the harsh dictum of her parents, but the woman was steady enough on her two feet and kept a brave face in all but the more private moments. Even after a week, Venia still did more holding and comforting than talking.

Given the strain the poor woman was under, it was far from her to complain. If anything, she wished she could do more to help. Amanda was having a hard enough time recovering from the 'loss' of her parents, which Venia could understand but scarcely comprehend. That argument had kindled another conflict: religion. Her belief had been strong before the crisis, but relatively benign. Afterwards, doubt and shame continued to eat at her self-confidence until she was chasing her figurative tail in circles.

It was a daily—and at times, hourly—struggle, but Amanda was doing better. Looking better, too, and voicing this opinion during a weekend meeting coaxed a small smile out of her.

"I think it's getting easier," she said, settling against Venia's side. A small air conditioner worked overtime to keep the temperature manageable. "It hurts, but I was actually able to focus on my work yesterday afternoon."

"Good," Venia murmured, and hummed in contentment. "I told you it would keep getting better."

The smile didn't fade, and after a moment Amanda reached up to touch Venia's head. "You did. I don't think I've thanked you enough for all the support you've given. You're a blessing."

Venia wanted to protest, to downplay her efforts, but that would cheapen the gesture. "You're welcome," came her reply. She could see little reason to offer more than that. Besides, the hand felt warm and comforting against the side of her muzzle, and she didn't want to give it reason to withdraw. She encircled the woman in a wing and held her close until the conversation moved on.

The days continued, and Amanda's studies consumed her waking hours as tests and essays loomed. Venia's work had dropped off after the summer and early fall tourism, but soon gave way to preparations for winter and holiday festivities. They took walking lunches and afternoon meetings when they could, but the weekends belonged to them—often enough, Venia would volunteer to quiz Amanda on some legalese or other, and Amanda would help massage sore flight muscles or listen to the latest stories of coworkers and customers.

Sometimes, Amanda would protest the treatment Venia endured. Work was work, and she had to eat. But, she had to admit Amanda was often right.

Sometimes she would talk to the other dragons in their own language, with hushed voices in case any of their human supervisors were bilingual. They would discuss the paltry government-issued benefits, the all-too-common condescension and worse from those supervisors, and the protections that humans had unionized to obtain.

Sometimes, they would even speak of organizing, lobbying, striking, and more. Too many were afraid for their jobs, with mates and young to consider. In the end, the talk went nowhere, but the right complaints at the right time brought enough improvement to stave off more serious action.

And so the weeks went by.

The day after Amanda's midterms, Venia brought her back to the shack and let the woman recline on her side. She curled around her as they talked, and while she might have reflected on why she took every reasonable opportunity to touch and be touched, she was too caught up in the attempts to care. Whatever the case, Amanda was running fingers over her ears and down to her muzzle, lulling her into a warm, half-focused frame of mind—almost like she was floating.

The conversation grew sporadic, but neither minded. They were natural pauses rather than awkward silences. At least, until a particularly long one saw Amanda's hands slow, then stop their ministrations. Venia opened her eyes to see a small, warm smile on her companion's face.

"You know, I don't think I can thank you enough for all you've done," Amanda said. "I don't know how I would've survived the past couple months without your help."

Venia hummed, and nuzzled her palm. "You would have. There's more strength in your heart than you realize." She turned her head to better look at Amanda. "Besides, no thanks are necessary. Friends help each other."

Amanda's smile grew—she hadn't forgotten, then. "Yes, they do. But I still want to."

Venia had expected a hug, or perhaps another round of petting. Instead, Amanda rose up and brushed her hair back, then pressed her lips against the bridge of her muzzle. It was a soft caress, ending by the time she'd realized it had started, but the warmth seemed to travel through her and blossom in her chest.

"Thank you," Amanda murmured. "For everything."

Venia blinked. "You're most welcome." She paused, not wanting to spoil the moment with mirth, but she couldn't resist lilting her voice in jest. "So, are kisses on the nose the usual human custom?"

Amanda blushed, and her head tilted—a mannerism she seemed to have picked up. "Um. I thought I aimed for your forehead?"

Venia gave her a little grin. "A few inches higher, my dear."

"Oh!" She reached up and trailed her fingers over where she kissed, and giggled when Venia's snout started twitching at the tickle. "I'll have to do better next time."

"I look forward to it." She felt daring, and brought the leading edge of her wing to the woman's back, holding her close. "If you were a dragon, I'd be tempted to give you lessons."

"Dragons give kissing lessons? Now there's a mental image!" Amanda grinned and leaned a little closer. "If we were the same species, I'd be willing to learn."

"Maybe we could teach each other anyway," Venia murmured, playful, but brought herself up short when she realized she might have gone a step too far. Amanda's brow had furrowed, but it wasn't in rejection, or in confusion. She seemed deep in thought for a moment, and Venia had to say something. "Too much?"

"What? No, no, it's not that," she said, and relaxed her expression. "Well, it kind of is. This might be an awkward question, Venia, but, do you know if dragons and humans have ever, well, kissed?"

Her ears twitched as she ran through her memories. "I don't think so? I never heard stories of it, at least," she said after the silence threatened to turn awkward. "There were many friendships and alliances, that I do know."

Amanda leaned back, still frowning, but not unpleasantly. "I doubt it'd be talked about, at least openly. Just, it has me wondering." She tentatively reached a hand back up to Venia's neck. "We're both good friends. I feel like I have more in common with you than half my friends on campus. We can't be the first human and dragon to get along. If we can forge a friendship, then what about something, you know," she said, hesitating, gesturing wordlessly before finding her voice again. "More than that?"

"I don't know." Venia had no better answer. There were divisions, social norms, expectations, and too many other factors. "I don't know," she said again, twisting her tail almost into a knot as she glanced at the wall. "It's a lot to think about."

"I guess so." Amanda withdrew her hand, and then stood. "I should probably go. It's getting late."

Venia's head snapped back to her, and her heart jumped. "Amanda, I—."

Amanda and held up her hands. "No, it's nothing like that. It's not anything you said." It was honest, and it was enough. "Well, I mean, you're right about it being a lot." She sighed, but still gave a little smile. "And I think I have some research to do. Maybe someone, somewhere, has written about it?"

"I'd be surprised if they did so openly, but it's worth the attempt." She pivoted and stood, stretching a little, then motioned towards the door. "Shall I walk you back to the campus?"

"You don't have to, you know." The smile grew.

"I don't, but I do so anyway," Venia said, bowing her head as if in service to her. Her reward was the woman's lovely giggle.

Amanda spent the next few days scouring all the histories in the college library. Venia had been right: if interspecies relationships existed, nobody—at least not in the considerable historical records she had access to—had written about them. What she did find, however, was worthwhile enough to bring up at their next meeting.

They'd settled on a park about halfway between their residences, and thanks to a big football game, it was mostly deserted. The handful of joggers continued on their asocial ways, barely even sparing them a glance. There was a blissfully cool evening breeze from the north that rustled through the palm trees lining the gravel paths.

The usual pleasantries came and passed, but there was something different, like they were waiting on something. Amanda knew what it was, even if she didn't let her thoughts move along that road just yet. Coming to grips with loving another woman had been hard enough.

This was something else entirely, but it couldn't be denied.

"I, uh. I went through the library this past week. Everything I could get my hands on." She wasn't sure how to continue, but Venia didn't interrupt except to nod in understanding. She licked her lips and kept going. "There wasn't anything too illuminating? Which I kind of expected. The usual tales of knights and lords—the bravest fought dragons, the smartest befriended them, that sort of thing.

"Anyway, a few things caught my eye. There were noble houses in France, Austria, and England that made alliances with dragon families, which would've been marriages between houses if they were all human. Catherine the Great had a dragon bodyguard sworn to her service—went with her everywhere, even to her bedchambers—and a banker was investigated by the Spanish Inquisition for actually living with a dragoness."

Venia tilted her head. "I'd heard stories of my kind forming close ties with humans who were worthy of friendship, but not to such an intimate degree."

"I don't know about 'intimate,' necessarily." Amanda couldn't help but blush at the implication. "It's all very circumstantial. Unless you believe the rumors that Catherine's dragon wasn't just a bodyguard, of course."

"Of course. It wouldn't do to read too much into old stories." Her head lowered to Amanda's level, and those silver eyes regarded her. "Whatever history says, I think it can only offer so much guidance. In the end, our feelings in the here and now matter more."

Amanda matched her gaze, feeling as if she was about to be carried away in whatever revelations they were about to admit. "I know. I just thought it'd help, at least to put, um. To put our feelings in perspective."

She paused, feeling close to laughter for some reason. Dancing around the subject was getting ridiculous. At the same time, though, she didn't know how to just come out and say it: I'm in love. I love you, Venia. I've loved you for some time, now.

Then, she opened her mouth. "It's love." Her heart leaped in her chest, but she continued. "I love you, Venia. I've loved you for some time, now." Because there was no other way to put it, nor any better time. This wasn't a foolish, clumsy attempt at coming out—this was the two of them, together, and it needed to be said.

Venia's ears smoothed back along her horns as she took it in, and then she was moving, glancing around, and then extending her wings with a whoosh. Before Amanda could ask, she had mantled them over their heads, blocking the view from any passersby.

"I love you, too, Amanda. I've loved you from the moment I met you on that beach, I think, but I didn't realize it until, until—well, now I know."

Amanda reached up, caressing the dragon's muzzle and cheeks. "I don't know where we go from here."

"Neither do I." Then, she softly chuckled. "At least, not until I become an astronaut. Then I can show you the stars."

"I'd like that." She didn't want to look away, didn't want the moments between them to end. "Can I fly with you, sometime? It'll be almost as good, I bet."

"Of course," Venia murmured, drawing closer. Just within reach. "As long as I have the strength to carry you, I will."

Amanda wanted to close the gap, but fear of discovery, of the hell that would follow, held her back—at least, until she remembered the wings around them. Nobody could see, and there was nobody around to hear.

She was safe with Venia. She knew that without a shadow of a doubt. She'd known it before they'd even introduced themselves. She'd known it when she came out to her, and when she fled into the embrace of those wings after her parents hadn't been so accepting.

She knew it that very moment, and in that safety, she leaned in and kissed her dragon.

It was different, that couldn't be ignored or explained away, but Venia's lips were still warm, almost velvety soft, and surprisingly gentle. She was doing it: she was kissing a dragon. Love's first kiss, defying all odds and differences to bring them together. Or at least, that's how she figured she'd recall it from that day on. She was too busy feeling the sparks fly around in her chest, too busy remembering to breathe when they parted.

"We'll figure out where to go, together," Venia murmured, closing her overlapped wingtips around Amanda's back. "No matter what it takes, as long as we stay together."

"I like the sound of that," Amanda replied, tracing her thumb over one of her love's pointed ears. "But, first things first. Are kisses on the nose the usual dragon custom?"

Venia frowned, tilting her head ever so slightly, then huffed as she realized the joke. "I'm no expert on human anatomy, but I'm fairly certain I did not kiss your nose."

Amanda had to grin. "I have to agree, but it could've been a close call. Practice might make for better aim?"

"There's only one way to find out." And then Venia was kissing her with a firmer, more insistent pressure, and it was all Amanda could do to kiss her back, locking her lips around the dragon's, holding the back of her neck both for support and to pull her in closer. Venia's wings trembled against her back, and the rush of giddiness ran away with Amanda's wits.

She didn't realize she'd brushed her tongue over Venia's lips until the dragon's long tongue returned the gesture. For a brief moment, they touched.

Then, they were separated again, breathing a little faster and staying close in case twice wasn't enough.

Venia broke the silence first. "That was even better than I'd hoped."

"Yes, it was," Amanda murmured, trying not to want things she wasn't ready for yet. But oh, did she want more.

From the glimmer in her eyes, Venia did too. "There is one thing, though." Her ears perked, and twitched with a hint of anxiety. "I have only kissed dragons. Is this how humans do it?"

Venia found herself learning far more about human courtship than she'd ever anticipated. There were quite a few gaps between their two cultures, more than a few rituals that either of them took for granted, and as kissing grew more comfortable, they began to hesitantly talk about the differences in their bodies. Venia promised herself to take things one step at a time, to not let the rush of passion carry them away.

The promises lasted until the second or third kiss.

After they'd crossed that first threshold, neither of them really wanted to stay reserved and rational. The touch of their lips, of body against body, had Venia wanting more—and she wasn't alone. At one point, she'd accidentally demonstrated the dexterity of her nearly forearm-length tongue when cleaning a forepaw. Amanda's breathless stare had puzzled Venia for a little too long before she'd finally guessed at just what was going through the woman's head.

They were still taking it slow, but their direction was taking them further and further down the path of physical contact. Such thoughts were increasingly inevitable.

Fortunately, Amanda's classes and odd jobs, along with a more steady delivery gig for Venia, helped enforce the slower pace as they only saw each other a few hours a week at most. Some times were better than others, and Amanda nearly tore her hair out over midterms. But by the time autumn was surrendering its last weeks to the encroaching winter, they'd settled into something of a rhythm—albeit one that still kept pushing the definition of 'comfortable closeness' further and further into intimate territory.

Part of that rhythm became educational: Venia could read English, more or less, but Amanda took it upon herself to help fill in some gaps and smuggled her a few texts from the school's library. Venia had always had a knack for numbers, but a chance encounter with basic algebra led to a whole new world.

"Are these normally difficult?" Venia asked, perking her ears. Amanda had taken a break from her own reading to look at Venia's attempts to tackle equations; the thick, well-worn book lay open next to a roll of paper with thick, relatively large writing in mostly neat rows and columns. Her raised brows were an unexpected reaction.

"Hard to say? I struggled a little with them, and we lost a third of the lecture hall by the end of the semester when I took this class." She glanced sidelong at her. "You've never done algebra before?"

Venia shook her head, and shrugged with her wings. "They don't teach us nearly this much—we don't exactly have schools like you do. But I did grasp the basic concepts, and I think that may be helping here and now."

A smile replaced the expression of curiosity. "I'm glad you like it. I'll see what else I can get for you."

Venia opened her mouth to protest, mostly out of habit, but she knew it was a done deal. "Thank you," she said, instead of beating her head against the brick wall of Amanda's resolve. Compromise, however, was a different story. "Just from the library, please. I know these books are terribly overpriced."

"Fifteen dollars isn't that expensive." Amanda didn't put much spirit into the retort, though. "But the library is free, you're right about that. They even had a spare stack of punched cards for this class."

Now it was Venia's turn to crane her head and look over. "I didn't know they had you actually programming."

"Not yet. But, we're learning how to use them." She lifted a thick rectangle of paper card up for Venia to see. "It's amazing. All you have to do is punch in a program, and you can make the computer do whatever it can calculate."

Venia chuckled, and looked down her snout at the beaming woman. "Don't let the power go to your head, now."

Amanda's smile turned coy. "Or the fierce dragon will have to vanquish my wickedness?"

The fierce dragon's laughs turned to a purr. "Something like that. Or perhaps I'll just have to kiss you until you come to your senses."

"I don't think kisses leave me very sensible."

"Won't know until we try." And if at first we don't succeed, try and try again , she wanted to add. But, Amanda was already leaning in, and Venia closed the gap. The numbers left her head as their warm lips met, and her last sight—aside from Amanda's look of rapture—was the punched card falling from the woman's fingers, also forgotten.

They deserved a break. Studying was hard work, after all.

Amanda barely registered the card leaving her hand. A moment later, that hand was caressing the dragon's muzzle, and then back to hook her fingers in the space between a horn and her neck. It was a very handy spot, giving her leverage to tug Venia even closer even as she had to lean back.

When they briefly parted to rearrange themselves, Amanda found a paw against her back, keeping her steady as she'd reclined back. From such a low perspective it seemed like Venia was towering above her; she looked down with features sharp enough to remind the woman that a dragon was still—for all her beauty, intelligence, and eloquence—a predator. And she was very nearly trapped in her embrace.

It awoke something low and primal in Amanda, but she wasn't afraid. Far from it. At times it still struck her as odd that she could kiss a dragon, and she suspected it was a mutual awkwardness, but not for long. Not when she crushed her lips against the dragon's, coaxed that long tongue to play with hers, and shared her next heated breaths with her companion. She felt a low, deep rumble against her palms, and grinned inwardly as Venia matched the passion of her movements.

Their tongues danced together between mouth and muzzle, and the more Amanda felt, the more she became aware of a tense heat building deep within her. She hadn't let herself feel such things before college, but free love and feminism had replaced pious ignorance with a healthier understanding of herself. The strong, nearly plate-sized paw on her back flexed, and she imagined it moving lower, or maybe around to her front. Maybe she didn't need so many clothes covering her. Maybe there were other things that tongue could do.

Their lips separated again, barely, so they could catch their breaths. Her eyes met Venia's, and while her face was far from human, Amanda could recognize the emotions flickering over her mostly rounded pupils. She wasn't the only one who had thoughts bordering on fantasizing. Nor did either of them particularly want to stop, but going further could easily entail going further, and while things were getting comfortably close, Amanda knew she wasn't ready for that just yet. Neither was Venia.

With reluctance, they widened the gap between them, and Amanda tried to busy herself by brushing her hair back with her fingers.

"How long until you have to leave?" Venia murmured, craning her neck back so Amanda could sit up.

She reached over to her purse and dug out a watch. "Oh, dang. I have to be back in half an hour for dinner." She stuffed papers in a folder and closed her textbook, but then turned around and stopped Venia from moving away completely with a light touch and a smile. "I'd stay if I could. That was, uh. That was really, really nice."

"You are always welcome, my dear." Venia smiled back, and then quietly chuckled. "Though any more kisses like that, and I might be rendered entirely senseless."

Amanda shared in the giggling and finished packing her materials and few belongings. They both stood, but before they could walk to the door, Venia's muzzle ended up too close to ignore, and within moments the sparks were flying once again. It was a little easier to pull away, but wanting to do so only grew tougher the more they locked lips.

By sheer force of will, one or both of them managed—Amanda's head was a little too hazy and filled with the quickened thudding of her heart to figure out who deserved the credit, or perhaps the blame. Either way, she leaned into the caress of an outstretched wing and played a hand over the green hide of Venia's neck before they turned back to the door.

The first few steps were slow, halting, as she tried to relax the tensions the kisses had stirred up. She managed, though, and by the time they reached the door she was mostly steady on her feet.

They settled on a more public location for their next meeting, and several days away besides. Time apart was less than ideal, but absence made the heart grow fonder—and gave plenty of time to think about the relationship rather than just feeling their way through it. They needed the open dialogue to keep meeting in the middle amidst their differences. And, if the afternoon's events were anything to judge, it would also let them handle any excess heat that cropped up.

There would certainly be more of it after they'd had a taste. Amanda returned to her dorm, which was all hers for the weekend, and it didn't take long before the recent memories had her hands exploring the paths where she'd imagined paws and a muzzle would travel over her. Just a random dragon's—certainly not a green dragoness.

She tried not to get too carried away with the fantasy, but dreaming of what that agile tongue might do easily sent her over the edge.

The more Venia went to kiss Amanda over the following weeks—when they were alone enough to do it properly, anyway—the more she felt herself drawn to idle curiosity: what would happen if we didn't stop? The idea kept her awake on several nights, for one reason or another. They'd even talked about it to some degree, though Amanda had some lingering reservations from her upbringing. The woman was steadily rejecting the teachings that had rejected her, though, and Venia was coming to terms with her own feelings on the matter.

Dragons tolerated humans well enough, by and large, though more than a few had their own opinions—and some even thought the two-legged beings unnatural. Venia knew differently, but there were times at work when she caught her thoughts drifting down unpleasant paths and had to stop. Other times, it was hard to reconcile the warmth in her heart with the unfamiliarity of the woman's form; sure, Venia had spent much of her life seeing and being around humans, but attraction to them hadn't crossed her mind until she'd found her heart ensnared.

The more she dwelled on the differences, however, the more she realized they weren't so insurmountable. Amanda seemed to be realizing the same. All in all, things seemed to be growing more heated as winter approached. Without her fully realizing it, the question changed from what would happen to when.

After Amanda's last final exam, Venia took her out for a celebratory dinner. They ate—it was one of the few places that openly catered to both species—and talked, until the winds changed and thunder rumbled in the dimming sky. Small chance of rain had changed into heavy storms.

Venia had shielded Amanda from rain with her wing plenty of times before, but even if she'd been able to keep her wing steady in the sharp gusts of wind, the rain would've whipped in under it to soak the woman anyway. She did the best she could with her body, and minutes later they stumbled into her creaking shack.

The roof wasn't leaking. Unfortunately, there were only enough towels to dry off the worst of the wetness. Amanda's clothes were plastered to her skin, and shivers started when they stopped moving—the temperature hadn't been too high to start. She stripped the clothes off with barely any coaxing and hung them to try, then curled up under Venia's wing since it was far more useful indoors than in the storm.

Despite herself, Venia couldn't help but covertly glance over the woman's curves, barely hidden by the thinner fabric of her underwear.

"How are you feeling?" Venia asked. Not for the first time, but it had been long enough by her count. Rain drummed against the roof, forcing her to speak a little louder than the murmur she usually reserved for such close quarters, but at least it wasn't a plain sheet of metal over her head like her last dwelling.

"Much better," Amanda replied, with her warm smile. "Thank you." It wasn't long before she squirmed under the wing. "Though that storm really soaked my clothes all the way through."

Her head turned to better regard the woman's situation. "Is it uncomfortable?" Clothing wasn't something she had experienced.

"A bit." A hand toyed with one of the top part's straps. "I don't have any spares, though."

"You could let them dry with the others," Venia said, and belatedly realized how that might sound. "That is, if you're comfortable—I'm not trying to suggest anything untoward." There was a flush on Amanda's cheeks, but she didn't seem put off. Venia cautiously added, "If it makes you feel better, I'm not wearing anything, either?"

That did make the woman laugh, and she patted the dragon's shoulder. "You're a bit better built for it, I think, but I won't stare if you won't?" Her tone was that airy, half-joking sort that put Venia more at ease. Then she started to undo something at the back, stripping down as Venia politely averted her gaze. Motion briefly caught her attention when Amanda threw the discarded, wet garment onto the table with her other clothes before quickly retreating back under the warmth of a wing.

The woman was almost completely uncovered, save for the bottom piece, for the first time in Venia's experience. While she wasn't positioned or inclined to look, she could still feel her warm skin against her hide and sensitive wing membrane. She'd seen the underwear a couple times before, but it was quite a departure from the norm of Amanda's company. Having nothing between them was natural for dragons, but humans had their thinner skin, lower tolerances for the elements, and a few too many concepts about modesty for their own good.

Venia stopped, took in a breath, and pulled her mind back to something more centered. It was unfair to judge the humans by their differences—she was dating one, if nothing else. Besides, humans had endurance enough, and Amanda's skin was hardly fragile. Soft and warm, certainly, and getting warmer by the minute. It was too nice to pass up such closeness, and her muzzle brushed over the woman's damp brown hair.

A giggle, and a caress of a palm, led Venia to keep nuzzling and even planting a few kisses on her head. Amanda turned her face up to catch one, and returned it, and it wasn't long before their lips met and they melted into each other. There was no rush, no sense of furtive urgency; the sound of rain and rolling thunder blocked out the world outside. They had time to enjoy themselves.

Still, their tongues met and mingled, and by the time they came up for air, Amanda had moved out from under the wing. Or at least, enough that Venia didn't want to let her eyes roam below the woman's face now that a fair part of her was on display. It was impolite.

"Sorry," Amanda said, raising an arm to cover her chest. "I, um. Almost forgot I was indecent."

Venia snorted at the euphemism. Humans. "You are anything but indecent, Amanda. I just know you prefer to be covered."

Amanda nodded, slowly. "I know, but. Well, maybe I'm okay with it." She relaxed her guard, though her arm didn't quite fall away. "Besides, I don't really want to stop kissing you."

Venia curled her wing more around the woman's back than over her shoulders, tugging her ever so slightly closer. "Then don't."

So they didn't. They'd had their share of steamy kisses, and with propriety out of the way, there was almost a hunger in the way they pressed together. The rain and lingering coolness in the air didn't seem to matter so much. Amanda's hands caressed over Venia's neck. In turn, she reached behind her companion to rest a paw under her shoulder blades. The skin there was soft, warm, and apparently sensitive enough that she arched her back—into the touch, not away from it.

Heartened, Venia used the new leverage to redouble her kissing. She didn't know or care how long they stayed locked together, but that hunger soon turned to heat, the kind that coiled in her core and urged her to get closer, to kiss elsewhere, to maybe...

Amanda broke away first, still pressing those lovely lips over Venia's muzzle while hands played over her ears and frills. Belatedly, the thought struck that the woman was uncovered, and she hadn't moved to fix that after seeing Venia glancing downward. Her cheeks were tinged with red, sure, but she still leaned back enough to give a much better view.

"Is this okay?" Apparently the confusion was evident on her muzzle, as Amanda added, "I mean, I know I'm not a dragon, so I probably look odd to you."

Venia snorted, and locked gazes with the silly woman. "That's not why I'm staring. You're beautiful." And she was, for all her differences; curvy, sensuous, and an intriguing mix of tender gentleness and surprising strength. Perhaps she was the odd one for finding a human so attractive. She didn't care, and even felt a little daring. "And I wonder if, if you feel as good as you look."

Amanda's breath hitched, and she moved closer. "There's only one way to find out."

Venia didn't waste breath when she could just trace her muzzle from the woman's shoulder to her upper chest, taking in her scent and warming her skin even more with her exhale. Amanda arched even more at that, and it seemed as good a license to continue as any. The scent was hers, but far more pure than the distraction of whatever soaps and chemicals went into her clothing. There was nothing left between them, now. Venia inched downward, feeling over the curves and valleys with her snout in between planting kisses on the tender skin.

Her touch followed the quickening rise and fall of Amanda's chest, resting over a pattering heartbeat for a moment before a different patch of skin caught her eye. She'd heard enough about human anatomy to guess at the purpose of the 'nipples,' and she paused there.

"You can keep going," Amanda breathed. "Please."

Tentatively, Venia touched her lips to the pink disc of skin, finding it raised and firm. A slight gasp was her reward, but she had to ask before she was unduly surprised. "Don't these, um, make milk?"

Amanda stopped, raised her eyebrows, and then broke into a brief fit of giggling. "Sorry, just the way you said it, dear. You're not wrong." Her hands cupped Venia's head and gently urged her closer. "But not unless I've given birth, or—well, it doesn't matter. They won't. Please don't stop."

It was odd, but there wasn't time for a biology lesson. Nor would it do to keep her waiting, so, Venia went back to work. The skin was definitely thinner, so she let the tip of her tongue do the exploring. Part of her was quite confused that this wasn't another dragoness, but she pushed that aside. It didn't take long until breathy gasps rewarded her efforts, so she switched sides, eager to redouble the pleasure. More experimentation, including a light squeeze with just her lips, had her thrilled to her core at the reactions from the squirming woman.

It was a good start, but Amanda's hands were starting to push. "More?" Venia murmured, noting a new scent in the air. She'd had her suspicions after catching the barest hint of it during the best of their kisses in the weeks prior. Now she knew it was the woman's arousal. She felt a wetness growing between her hind legs, too, but that could wait a short while longer.

"Yes."

Venia purred. The only way to go was down, and she trailed kisses down the woman's belly until meeting her remaining undergarment. Amanda immediately hooked her thumbs under the fabric, pushed them down, and turned to kick them away. When she spread her legs again, Venia could see a patch of auburn hair between them. Its purpose eluded her, but it didn't pose an obstacle. Amanda lay back on one of the blankets beneath them and spread her legs. Her intimates were there, though disparate enough from a dragon's to warrant a longer look. It was a different shape, with little folds of skin, and smaller; not by too much, but Venia was glad she wasn't a drake. Fitting a male's girth into her would be painful, if not impossible.

Fortunately, her tongue was narrower and more flexible. There was no sense in putting it to work right away when more kisses and teasing breaths were called for—at least, until Amanda groaned and lifted her hips, apparently fed up with the teasing. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed, but the shyness and hesitance was gone—they were committed.

Before Amanda could put frustrations into words, Venia gave her a slow, firm lick. The reply was a moan. There were differences between them, as expected, but Venia was very much used to finding her way around females. A little surge of pride came with every note of pleasure, and it didn't take long to have Amanda's hips rolling against her muzzle. Her tongue slipped past the folds and into the woman, tasting her exotic flavors to find them agreeable enough, and coaxing her sensitive spots to reveal themselves.

It helped that the woman was honest in her reactions. And, perhaps, a little vocal—more so, when Venia found the woman's clitoris and focused her tongue's efforts. Paws were too large to do more than grope the woman's thighs and rump, but that was enough.

"Yes," Amanda breathed, her hands grasping at a wing, a horn, anything. "God, yes, Ve-." Her words cut off as she shuddered under the swirling and stroking. That odd but not off-putting scent filled Venia's snout, and while it wasn't one her brain and body recognized as sexual, she was quickly making that association. Her heart—and elsewhere—warmed at the woman's reactions; there was much to learn and get used to, yet, but pleasure was something they could both share.

And at that, Amanda's fingers gripped surprisingly hard on the paw resting to the side of her as she cried out, arching her back. Muscles rippled and clenched around Venia's tongue as she tried to keep the tip inside her lover. She looked up to see the woman's chest heaving, moving those rounded breasts in a tantalizing swell—some dragons would call her a pervert, but she was beginning to like the curves, especially from her current vantage. Unsure how human climaxes worked, she kept licking, nuzzling, until suddenly Amanda's hand flew to her snout and pushed.

Her ears went flat, and she pulled back. "Sorry." Perhaps she'd crossed some line; humans were odd about sex. Or perhaps she'd accidentally caused harm; Amanda was hardly fragile, but her skin was thinner than dragon hide, and her frame didn't have a third of Venia's strength. Either way, she drew back a bit, trying to watch her expression and scan for possible injuries at the same time.

"It's okay," Amanda said, breathless, and reached up to touch Venia's muzzle—as much as her trembling, seemingly numb fingers would allow. "It's okay, it's, yes. Oh, wow."

Venia perked a little at that. All was not lost. "I hope I didn't hurt, offend?" She wanted to put it more eloquently, but her own breath came in shorter huffs and her mind buzzed with lingering excitement despite the scare.

Amanda shook her head. "No, fine. Well, not fine. But fine. Just, sensitive, after, after the—oh, God, that felt good." Her hand managed to cup Venia's cheek, and she gently tugged on the dragoness. "Your tongue is, it's, well. Ohh, God."

"Sensitive?" Venia wasn't sure what to make of that, but let herself get pulled into a closer embrace and licked her muzzle clean as Amanda haltingly explained. Dragonesses tended to stop after a good peak, as further touches might feel intrusive without the stimulation giving pleasure, but outright discomfort?

Humans were odd.

But, this one was warm and soft and cuddly, and gave Venia a heated little kiss as a thank-you. Rain still drummed on the roof and even two of the walls, forcing them to speak instead of murmur, but it probably covered the sounds of lovemaking. The night had barely begun, and it seemed likely they'd make more noise. Venia found herself shifting her hind legs and tail every few moments as the scent of Amanda still filled her nose, reminding her of her own wetness and need. It didn't take long for the woman to notice the motions, but a few moments did pass before she bit her lower lip and stroked a hand over green hide.

"You know, I should return the favor."

Venia frowned. "I don't want you feeling—." A hand on her lips brought her protests to a halt, and the look on her lover's face told her what was coming.

"Let me make myself more clear, Venia," she said, softly, and looked up with her best relaxed, languid expression— seductive. "I want to." Her cheeks flushed as she said it, and the reason became more clear as she glanced down Venia's body. "Although, if it doesn't ruin the mood, I don't think I'm as, um. Experienced?"

That got a small giggle from Venia. "You'll do fine, I'm sure."

They'd discussed anatomy to an extent, at least. Amanda had furtively mentioned intimacy with her first—and last—girlfriend, though it seemed they hadn't undressed for the act, a feat that stretched Venia's imagination. What strange creatures, sometimes, with their insensible need to stay clothed. She brought her mind back to the real issue: the inexperience. At least Amanda knew of the parts and how they worked.

The rest would just have to take hands-on experience, so to speak.

"Let me turn over, then we can begin," Venia continued, since lying on her side meant lifting her hind leg, something a dragoness would have an easier time of than a human. A pleasant thrill came when Amanda kissed her just as she finished moving, and doubly so when the woman got enjoyably aggressive with her tongue. Either she wanted to prove herself capable, or she was very keen on the imminent intimacy—or both. Any option suited her just fine.

Amanda's lips broke away from Venia's, only to trail past her muzzle and towards her ear. "I wanna take a good look, first. Then I want to claim my dragon," she murmured, heated, and with more than a little resolve in her voice.

To Venia's surprise, a slight shiver ran down her spine. Assertiveness was a good look on the woman. She sprawled out, letting the woman take in the view. All modesty aside, there was plenty to look at. She was sleek, well-groomed despite the rain, and no less inviting than Amanda had been.

The hands trailing down Venia's belly and over her thighs had her squirming. It was almost too much anticipation. Amanda's fingers soon found her cleft, exploring the slit between her legs and the folds hidden within. A few murmured instructions set those touches on the right path to tease and explore.

And then, two of those digits slipped inside her.

Amanda's heart thudded, though not half as hard as it had when Venia had been licking her; she still buzzed from the surprisingly strong orgasm. Her promise was exciting, and daunting. It was one thing to hold on while the dragoness buried her muzzle between her legs. It was another entirely to try and return the favor. Venia was beautiful, exotic, and sleek—but also large. The size difference still surprised Amanda at times.

Still, she'd had to add a little pressure to her caresses, and then Venia's instructions had led Amanda from foreplay to feeling her up. The hot, slick folds were snug enough around her fingers—she was actually fingering a dragon!—but there was enough give to the muscles that she wondered if all of her fingers might fit, if not her whole hand. How large is a drake, if she could handle this much? If I were a man, would I be less than satisfying? Men usually were, but then, she was somewhat biased on that point.

Amanda felt Venia's hips shift as she let out a little huff of breath. Some thoughts would have to wait.

She tried to work by observation, by instinct, by what little she knew—and as she added a third finger to her thrusts and rubs, Amanda hoped eagerness made up for lack of experience. It didn't seem to matter, as Venia shivered and panted from her touches. The dragon's scent was richer than her own, with a hint of what could've been tangy sweetness overshadowed by the warmth of something like smoky wood, though she was only guessing. Odd, but not off-putting. The real concern was the thick hindlegs, tipped with sharp claws, that started to twitch when she hit the right spots. Fortunately, Venia spread them further apart and out of the way, though they remained another reminder of their difference in size and strength.

Without the possibly lethal distraction, Amanda redoubled her efforts. Out of curiosity, she leaned closer to the thick-lipped slit, taking in more of the scent. It felt too strange to put her mouth down _there—_on a dragon, no less—even after Venia had done the same. She knew it was the same hesitance she had about sex in general, a holdover from a decade of enforced ignorance followed by one of puritanical indoctrination. She wanted no part of either. If she was to be judged for loving, then she'd damn well enjoy it.

Still, there were smaller steps before the big leap. She drank in the sight, she took in the scent, but she let her fingers do the work. Fortunately, from the huffs and shudders of the dragoness beneath her, it seemed Venia didn't mind in the slightest.

"A little lower," she said, catching Amanda's attention. "And more pressure." They were small pointers, but Venia's experience—both with her own body and with sex in general—made a huge difference as the right touches had her hind legs twitching in the air. Amanda's back straightened from the thrill that ran up her spine at the display. She wanted to put her left hand between her own thighs, but it was planted firm on Venia's lower belly for stability.

An idea still formed, and after a moment's consideration, she swung her leg over Venia's tail and straddled the thick base. The muscles underneath twitched, pressing upwards, and Amanda grinned in satisfaction.

She went back to work.

It felt good to give pleasure—for whatever remained of her faith, she couldn't believe that sharing the experience, as an extension of love, could be a sin or perversion in any sane world. The sensations were incredible, but the depth of their bond went far beyond that. They loved, and were in love.

Of course, the pleasure was too good to pass up, and Amanda curled her fingers as deep as she could manage, seeking a spot she'd hit a few breaths ago. Her reward was a shudder and groan, and she tried to coax the sore, almost cramping digits to keep working, rubbing, and finally just thrusting in and out as Venia's hips rocked, then bucked. Venia's whole back arched, muzzle parting in a low cry. The thick muscles inside her suddenly clenched around Amanda's fingers with enough strength to hold them in place, even with the size difference and enough slick wetness that thrusting had felt all but frictionless. She should have seen the climax coming, but she'd been too caught up in the moment—and the strength of it was almost too much to match. All she could do was ride out the shaking and squirming, with the tail rubbing her as it twitched.

The waves of passion were the most intense she'd seen, but they didn't last forever. Venia sprawled, panting, muscles still twitching but relaxing enough that Amanda's fingers no longer felt like they were being pulled in. The rich scent of a dragoness' arousal filled the air as she withdrew them, and they glistened in the light from the single bulb on the ceiling. She felt both energized and drained all at once. The reality, that she'd just been eaten out by a dragoness and then felt her up in return, wasn't lost on her.

And yet, for all the strangeness of their sensuality, she didn't regret a moment of it—save, perhaps, for her inexperience and for her hesitance in putting her mouth to work. Practice would rid her of the former, and the latter, well. She'd have to take small steps to build her comfort with that.

For the time being, she shifted positions so she could rest against Venia's lower belly. The beautiful dragon stirred, then turned and guided Amanda into a closer, more intimate cuddle. A wing draped over her back, blissfully warm. She wasn't used to lying belly-to-belly with Venia, with no clothing and a bit of a mess on both of them, but she could definitely learn to enjoy it.

"I never imagined it could feel like this," Amanda whispered, smiling as her lover's ears swiveled to track the sound. "That was amazing. Thank you."

Venia smiled back and craned her long neck to nuzzle Amanda's shoulder and neck. "The feeling is mutual. Different, but worth every moment." Their lips touched, and Venia's voice was quiet despite the rain. "You are a gift."

They kissed, and the rest of the storm didn't bother them in the slightest.

While odd hours of work for both of them cut into the time spent together, they made do. The winter nights grew colder; Venia invited Amanda to her shack—and embrace—for warmth, but the lack of heating, poor amenities, and distance back to her dorm in the chilly mornings made it difficult for her lover—a novel concept, she'd reflected—to stay overnight.

Finances were the other obstacle. Amanda had struggled with several budgets, and on a sleepy January morning, Venia had helped her determine the savings needed to get through another two and a half years of college. She decided to take the next fall semester off and redistribute some of her junior year classes. The end result was a graduation date a year later than she'd planned—but she would graduate.

Later that day, Venia learned from the radio that there would be no Apollo 20 mission. Budget cuts, probably owing to the war, had put the later launches in jeopardy. They talked about Skylab and the bright future of the program, with increasingly dire news from a conflict halfway across the globe. Fortunately, neither she nor Amanda would be called to serve. Instead, she sat with her tail curled around her paws, daring to imagine the days when the humans hungered for something more ambitious, like a Mars mission.

The next month, water damage rendered her shack less than habitable, and while the men that passed for the community's maintenance team did some patchwork repairs, she doubted it would last the rest of the year. Then the mold started growing, and even she didn't want to visit the place if she couldn't help it, nor would she dare expose her lover to the stuff.

Two months later, Amanda rubbed her neck as they stood across the street. A backhoe tore through the ceiling and pulled one of the walls down with a loud clatter. Construction workers looked bored, zoning developers looked gleeful, and the few dragons who stuck around were ears-flat forlorn as their own homes were broken down. With the growing suburbs, it had become a prime location for a strip mall, and dragons apparently didn't pay enough in taxes.

Ironically, Venia's new home was a hastily-converted strip a mile off the highway, part of some speculative scheme that hadn't correctly predicted the direction of urban sprawl. Twenty minutes of walking for Amanda turned into more than an hour. Worse, the thin walls offered next to nothing in the way of privacy. They managed as best they could, sneaking kisses on secluded park benches under the cover of Venia's wing or behind bushes, but real intimacy became almost too rare to treasure. It took a surprising amount of work to keep from drifting too far apart when so much as a casual caress could draw unwanted attention from the less understanding.

At the very least, there were the launches. A seasonable April day saw another Apollo mission lift off, though Venia could only watch from afar as she took a detour during her courier route. Too soon, she was glued to her radio again, with Amanda as often as not, while the newscast grimly recounted the struggle of the three astronauts to get home—and the triumph when they finally did.

She still wanted to see the stars for herself, but Apollo 13 was a poignant reminder of the very real perils of space travel.

Time went on, and spring turned to summer. Amanda's classes ended, but that only meant more hours at an office filing paperwork, or evenings waiting tables at a diner. Venia found a steady job running packages and files between state parks, county buildings, and a few other government offices. She knew a holding pattern when she felt one, and had to remind herself—and Amanda, when she'd asked if the tedium was worth it—that saving money was moving ahead, even if other goals had to be put on hold.

Summer turned to fall, then to winter, and Amanda almost wished she'd taken a semester off. Every week, she put her collected tips in the bank. Every week, she looked at the slowly growing amount. "This much closer to graduation," she murmured, daring to hope that all the struggle had been worthwhile.

If her parents had expected her to come crawling back looking for help, they would be disappointed. Or perhaps not. The sting had faded to a dull ache, and she found herself caring less and less about what they thought of her. She was her own woman. She was a lesbian. And while she damn well wouldn't tell anyone without good cause, she was madly in love with a beautiful dragoness.

What was their approval, next to that?

Spring turned to summer again, and Amanda felt a little glee at the freedom from a full load of courses. More than that, though, she had a surprise for Venia that bubbled all the more in her chest every time she thought about it.

"Almost there," she said, grinning up at the slightly confused dragoness. They rounded a corner, walked a few more paces, and then Amanda flourished. "Ta-da! What do you think?"

Venia blinked. "A house?"

"Not just a house." Amanda led her up the oddly wide, tiled path up to the oddly wide front door. A key appeared in her hand. "I talked to the landowner, gave him a bit of legal advice—nothing official, mind, just pointed him in the right direction for a problem of his—and struck a deal for the next month. It was built as a sort of clinic and hospice for injured dragons, so just about everything is your size." She got to the front door, turned back, and grinned wider. "Best of all? Sometimes a dragon and caregiver needed to stay a few days, so it's fully furnished."

The pieces came together, and Venia's ears twitched, swiveling towards Amanda in surprise. "You mean, we can both stay here?"

Amanda opened the front door and beckoned her inside. "I mean," she said, closing the door behind them once Venia's long tail was out of the way, and pulled her muzzle close. "I mean," she echoed, quieter, "we both have this place to ourselves for the next month and a half, at least. There's still work, and I don't think I can stay once classes start—too far away, too expensive in the long run—but until then?"

"Until then," Venia murmured, touching her lips to her lover's, "we don't have to worry about anyone getting the right ideas about us, or watching us, or anything else."

Amanda ran a finger along the edge of Venia's ear. "Almost anything. We can't be too loud, or damage anything. Small price to pay for getting what we want, and for cheaper than what he usually asks." She gave an impish little smirk. "I think I'm getting pretty good at negotiating."

Venia chuckled, and kissed her again. "You have the spirit of a dragon, love."

"The oddest dragon ever." She gestured at herself. "I mean, have you ever seen a human-shaped dragon? I think I'd much rather be one for real."

The actual dragon huffed, at that. "You don't have to be what you aren't, you know."

"I know," Amanda replied, trailing her other hand down to trace the leathery membranes of a wing. "But tell me you wouldn't love to have me flying with you, being all big and strong, and beautiful."

"I would love to fly with you." Venia smiled, and leaned the wing into the woman's palm. "But if we're imagining, perhaps I could be human. Yes," she said before Amanda could voice her protest, "I know, you love me as I am. And I love you. But while you want to fly, I want to walk around with you and see your dorm, to run fingers through your hair. To kiss you more properly."

Amanda kissed her, then, with more than a little passion behind it as if to push her unspoken point home. "You," she said when they parted for air, "kiss just fine."

"Thank you. But sometimes, I worry," Venia replied, ears twitching back as she felt heat rise in them. At Amanda's frown, she sheepishly added, "I think my tongue is too big for proper kissing."

Amanda let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, my lovely dragon," she said, eyes dancing. "Your tongue is just fine." From the slight flush in her cheeks, she clearly realized how that had sounded.

"Mm, I'm guessing you'd like to be a dragon to have a long, agile tongue of your own?"

"Well, I'll freely admit to it." The woman's voice had gone quite husky. "I've thought a lot about that tongue."

Venia slowly brushed it over her lover's lips. She ought to have thought if it was wise to break in the house mere minutes after stepping inside, but after months of restraint, she was done with waiting. "Then lose the clothes, my beautiful human, and let me remind you what all I can do with it."

Somehow, Amanda managed to pull off her clothes while practically dragging Venia by the horn to the dragon-sized bed in the main living area. The window blinds were already shut, leaving no witnesses to their kiss, nor to Venia making good on her word by licking her way down Amanda's chest, then down even further, until after long last the sweet sounds of the woman's quiet gasps reached her ears with each slow, firm stroke of her heated tongue.

For her part, Amanda had just enough time to reflect that being a human wasn't so bad. After all, Venia's head fit very well between her spread legs, and her hands got a good grip on the ivory horns to pull her snout against her crotch. She'd return the favor before long, and as many times as she could manage after that, but who was she to turn down being eaten out by a dragon?

Then Venia grinned, showing most of her teeth, and Amanda felt the touch of a narrow, smooth tail tip between her legs. The move was somewhat undermined by the repositioning, experimentation, and occasional giggles, but Venia managed to slip a respectable length inside her, curling and thrusting while her tongue swirled and stroked. She had to let go of the horns to moan into a pillow, hoping the walls were thick enough, but soon she was far beyond caring.

Her last coherent thought was the rent. It was steep for her budget, but she found herself unable to care about that, either. She had Venia, and that was what mattered. That, and the toe-curling climax that ripped through her a few quick breaths later.

With the exception of the hours she and Amanda couldn't afford not to work, Venia didn't feel like the summer break was part of the real world. They woke up, ate meals, wiled away the hours with books and music and talk, and went to bed together. There was plenty of sex—especially in the first week, as the privacy of the house freed them to work the pent-up tension out of their systems—but most of the time felt nothing short of domestic. Venia had no other word to describe it; in fact, Amanda had been the one to say it. They could simply be together, doing mundane things like cleaning, and it felt right.

No fear of anyone spotting them in the park, or walking in on them in the shack, or spying on them wherever they might try to steal a personal moment. No stress from wondering how they could keep a lesbian relationship alive, let alone an interspecies one, with so little room for open affection. No crushing array of classes, odd jobs, and other snares in their schedules to keep them from spending time together. Just the two of them sharing their lives under the same roof.

It wasn't all simple or easy; they spent more than a few hours figuring out how to divide up chores—particularly when one of them couldn't do things like chop vegetables—and smoothing over wrinkles from the changes in their lives and lifestyle. Venia wasn't unfamiliar with sharing living space, nor was Amanda, but spending most of their hours under the same roof with a lover was very different indeed.

Even in the shadow of the fall semester and Venia's new position at work, they were still talking almost every other night to iron out wrinkles and reaffirm their bonds.

But, every night she got to curl up next to Amanda and watch her fall into the peace of sleep, only to feel her touch and embrace the very next morning. She didn't want it to ever end. There was no epiphanic moment of certainty, no angelic chorus proclaiming she'd found her soulmate. Instead, she slowly came to realize that, despite all odds, she could scarcely imagine life without Amanda David. It was no longer a question of whether they could keep the relationship going, but how to beat those odds and come out ahead.

Fortunately, Venia was a dragon. While rumor of draconic scheming and conquering was exaggerated, especially in modern times, she would almost pity the world if it tried to get between the two of them. Almost.

Unfortunately, Amanda's working hours cut below their comfort level when classes resumed, and it was too far for a daily commute to the campus anyway. She and Venia reluctantly packed and cleaned, then moved back to their usual residences. On the bright side, the owner seemed quite willing to rent to them again. "Smart, really, to share costs like that. Very progressive," he said, apparently oblivious to just how progressive the arrangement really was.

Some things just weren't anyone else's business, especially when one never knew who might get downright nasty about such things.

After living together with near-endless privacy, the involuntary separation was even more surreal than the blissful weeks they'd shared. Worse than that, she thought, it was waking up in the morning to find the bed—the room, every room, all of it— empty. It was growing so accustomed to touching someone that the air felt cold and wrong just by existing where they had been. She hated to complain, but she hated the loneliness even more.

She threw herself into her studies, determined to graduate and find a job that would let them live together again, but that was still another year and a half away. They still saw each other at every opportunity. Venia had a knack for finding secluded corners in which to block out the world with her wings, and while it paled in comparison to the intimacy they'd shared, those moments still let them enjoy a secret kiss or simply a closer embrace than the random passerby might find comfortable. Friendship with a dragon was still an oddity.

Amanda found herself caring less and less what they thought, but for the sake of convenience and safety, discretion was the better part of valor.

The rest of her junior year flew by. Just about every time she saw Venia, the dragoness was buzzing with excitement over rumors that dragons would start testing for astronaut training—it would take as much power as lifting two or three humans to orbit, but Venia argued the science would be just as invaluable. She was already poring through physics and thermodynamics texts, trying to teach herself everything she might need to know if she just so happened to be chosen for testing.

Summer brought Amanda an internship. "A foot in the door," she called it. Venia took extra contracts, trying to save as much money as she could manage. The start of her senior year took even more time, but they found an hour here or an evening there, enjoying what they could steal from the world around them in a sort of holding pattern.

And so the months went by.

As the year came to a middle and their wits all too close to an end, Amanda stood proud in a cap and gown, waiting to receive the degree that she'd worked—in every sense—to achieve.

Venia wasn't allowed to attend. "No room to seat a dragon," the excuses generally went. She waited, then caught an updraft and circled the ceremony. Speeches were given, names were called, and then the moment came. Once she saw Amanda step onto the stage, she banked and gave her lover a flyby. Not nearly close enough to alarm anyone, though more than a few heads turned towards her. The only one she cared about, the one still on the stage with diploma in hand, grinned up at her.

Venia's next destination was the bunkhouse. She'd curried enough favors, minor bribes, and schedule changes that they would have her section to themselves for the night. A friend would sneak Amanda inside, along with a nice dinner, and keep an eye out from the next section over in case anyone came back early.

It was a big day for the proud graduate, and Venia intended to provide the most romantic evening she could manage—and then, if the mood so happened to arise, pleasure her into senselessness.

Thoughts of the future could wait, for the time being.

The future did not wait forever, and before the summer was out, Venia found herself out of a job. Development was booming, but heavy machinery could do the work of a half dozen dragons in half the time—or so her former manager had said when he thought the despondent dragons out of earshot. Some had talked of striking, and a couple even suggested rioting, but too many dragons were downtrodden or desperate from years of the same treatment. They scattered in search of work—anything that would pay. Venia found the odd job here and there, but she found herself leaning on Amanda's income more than she would like.

At first, it hadn't been a problem. At first, Amanda had been enthusiastic about her secretarial job, which had promised opportunities for advancement should a lawyer need a new aide.

Then, her working hours had grown longer. Her attitude began a slow shift into distant, distracted frustration. Venia could do little—she hated to see her lover changing for the worse, but with the job market turning uncomfortably anti-dragon, there was little she could do to help.

Friction was inevitable, and Venia's tenement was thankfully empty of the few remaining dragons when tensions finally flared.

"It isn't a pressing concern," Venia said, after Amanda came back from the butcher's shop with a sack of prime beef. Yet another favor owed to her. "What they give us is still edible." More and more, the government-issued rations for dragons were seen as a waste of meat, and shops were handing out poor cuts—some of which were halfway to rotting. Amanda had taken it on herself to lean on several local stores with the full weight of her legal knowledge and a few implied connections to the right agencies.

Amanda gave her a flat look. "No. You'll end up sick from bad meat because they're too damn greedy to serve what you're owed."

"Is it greed when they're paid a pittance for our vouchers?" Perhaps it was better to admit defeat, or to ask for help instead of arguing against it, but Venia had enough wounded pride already. "If we could work for more than scraps, we could buy our own food instead of relying on handouts!"

"The fact that they won't let dragons have jobs is why there's handouts in the first place!"

Venia's tail flicked in annoyance. "Are we just supposed to rely on humans for everything?"

The woman blinked, taken aback. "Is this about my helping you out?"

A similar shock, albeit for different reasons, ran through Venia. She tilted her head. "No, I—."

Amanda didn't let her finish. "Look, I get it. You want to be strong, but humans are keeping you from doing that. Well, I'm not going to apologize for helping you! I love you, dammit, and I won't sit by and watch the fat cats take advantage of everyone around them. They need to be held accountable, and until someone can tear them down from their high perch, I won't let them hurt someone I care about!"

A pit formed in Venia's stomach as she watched Amanda speak. She still missed the nuances of human expression, but she knew her lover too well. "I don't blame you for that, Amanda. I love you, too." She forced herself to breathe quietly and calmly, quelling the fires of her own anger and frustration. There was something else going on.

Fortunately, the light in Amanda's eyes quieted as well, and she let out a long, ragged sigh before looking away. "I... I know. I shouldn't have gone off like that."

Venia nodded, then touched her snout to the woman's shoulder. "A lot has changed. You're right, I do want to be strong, but not if your company is the cost. Never that." To her relief, Amanda nodded, and reached a hand up to stroke her muzzle. Her breath came and went, and she decided to dig a little deeper now that nerves weren't so raw. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Amanda frowned. "About what?"

"About whatever's troubling you."

Silence hung again, and part of Venia—a sliver, really—feared there wouldn't be an answer, or at least not an honest one. That part, as always, was proven wrong.

"I think," Amanda said, quiet and a little shaken, "that I might end up quitting my job. But I don't know if I should."

Venia's ears fell back, but she tried to restrain her shock. By the time she found her voice, she set her mind on supporting her partner. "I'm sorry to hear it, but if you feel it's the best decision, I trust your judgment."

"I just, I don't know." The woman's jaw clenched. Finally, she spoke again. "No, I need to make one more stand." Then, she let it spill out: how the secretary job was supposed to be a stepping stone but seemed to be a dead end, how her education and experience had been all but dismissed by her bosses, and worst of all, how two of those bosses and too many of the lawyers—all older men, most of them happily married—saw her as little more than a pretty face and cute figure. At first it had been idle comments, then uncomfortable 'compliments,' then overtures and touches and insinuations that her job would be far easier if she 'gave a little back.'

In return, Amanda had worked her way up the chain, filing complaints and documenting where she could. It was still her word against theirs, and the repercussions were starting to unfold as her bosses quietly labeled her a troublemaker.

"For what it's worth," Venia said once Amanda finished, "I think you should quit if they don't take action right away. They've had their chance, and you deserve far better than any of that." She gave a soft lick to the woman's cheek. "And I'm sorry I haven't been able to help with any of it."

"It's alright." Amanda smiled despite the pain in her expression. "You've had your own worries, and it's not like you can burn the building down or anything."

Venia mused, humming. "Well, I could..." She grinned at the half-horrified, half-amused reaction. "I can still listen, and offer my support. You don't have to face this alone."

"Thank you." Amanda drew in close, and Venia was entirely unsure why she hadn't been hugging her lover through the whole story.

She did her best to make up for lost time.

"I do have a confession in return," Venia finally said. Amanda turned her head up, spilling hair over Venia's shoulder in a very faint tickle. "I've been thinking about moving. They're not going to give us work again, not after rumor that we were trying to strike."

"You should. I hear there's far better opportunities up north."

Venia nodded and brushed a paw over Amanda's back. "So have I. But, I don't want to leave you." She paused, and could tell they were both thinking the same question. "Would you come with me, if you quit?"

"Absolutely." There was no hesitation.

Conversation halted as they kissed—touches warm, familiar intimacy they had grown over several years of romance.

"But where should we go?"

Amanda considered. "I've heard good things about Kalamazoo."

Venia tilted her head.

"Michigan. College town, but it's supposed to be very friendly to—well, us."

"Dragons and humans?"

Amanda stopped, then giggled. "Lesbians and gays. I don't know how they'll deal with the two of us on top of that." Her face brightened. "Oh! Boulder, too."

Venia hummed. "I've heard of that place. Colorado, right?"

"Yes. I've always wanted to see the mountains." She stroked over Venia's neck. "I'll ask around at the ladies' meet tonight. They might have some suggestions."

"I look forward to the verdict." Something still nagged at her, and she let out a quiet sigh as she faced the challenge. "Although, if you don't quit—."

Amanda shook her head, cutting off the thought. "Unless they offer me an apology and promotion on the spot, I'll be quitting. I just haven't wanted to admit it."

Venia nodded and pulled her closer. She hadn't lived in Tallahassee her entire life, but she'd grown comfortable before the job market turned sour. It would be harder to leave—but, impossible to stay, and that was the deciding factor. She still had some savings, and Amanda had no debts or obligations.

They would make it work.

In the end, they chose Boulder. Venia found a mail delivery route within days, while Amanda was a proper paralegal within the month. It still took time to find their feet—the mile-high climate was agreeable, once the temperature shock passed, but it wasn't home yet.

It was, however, far more homelike. Amanda and Venia weren't the only examples of dragon-human friendship. They had suspicions about some of the others, and noticed a few curious stares, but nobody pried, and the atmosphere was far more welcoming all around. They found ways to make their secret relationship work, even if sensuality was all too restricted.

By the second half of the decade, Amanda had a surprise for her lover: a new home.

"This," Venia said, awed, "is amazing."

It was a single-story house with a half brick front and cream-colored siding above, a tall roof, and large windows. The best part was the double-wide tall doors in the back, which were more than large enough for Venia to walk through. Every room save for the utility room—there were only five in total—had high ceilings and a wide hallway.

"How did you find this place?" Venia sat in the main living room, unable to stop looking around. "Did a dragon live here?"

Amanda grinned. "The original owner wanted it wheelchair accessible. Nobody's picked it up for long enough that the bank just wants to get rid of it, and I was able to talk them into lending."

"Very fortunate," Venia said. "Though didn't you tell me a single woman's income would make that next to impossible?"

"Just about," Amanda replied, eyes twinkling. "But I may have shared a story—off the paperwork, of course—about a very tall Scandinavian paramour who sends me money so we can have a proper marriage, and how I wanted to surprise him with a quaint little home in sight of the mountains."

"Devious."

Amanda giggled. "I'm honestly surprised it worked. It was even better when I let slip I was renting out the main room to a dragon. Do you know what they said? It was very progressive of me."

Venia smirked and curled her tail around the woman's back. "If only they knew."

"If only." She leaned close, stroking over Venia's neck. "You know, I think this is going to work."

Venia nodded and purred. "It feels like home."

"And," Amanda continued, "if we can stay ahead of the bills, work might pay for me to get my full law degree. Seven or eight years of good work and I could become a partner."

"If I land the supervisor job," Venia murmured, "then we could make more than enough on two incomes. This can definitely work."

They kissed. There were no illusions about the path ahead—it would not be easy to keep pretenses and secrets, and even if their relationship was accepted, it would never really be normal. But, it was life, and it was love. They would make it work.

And so the years went by.

Epilogue

Amanda was incredibly thankful for the air conditioned observation deck; mid-October was hardly the height of summer, but the weight of the sweltering humidity taxed her endurance. Nearly eighty years of life, a recent surgery, and the steady onset of arthritis left her weaker than usual. She hadn't protested NASA's offer of a wheelchair—all that energy had gone to convincing her wife that she was attending the launch at her side, health be damned.

Fortunately, it was easier to persuade a dragoness when she was far too excited over the first manned Mars mission to argue for long.

"Look at the size of it," Venia had murmured at least three times that Amanda could catch.

"Oh, I don't know. I think Apollo 11 was bigger," Amanda teased, after the latest such utterance.

That earned her a sidelong glance. "The rocket doesn't have to be as large, it's just carrying the six crew up to the Daedalus so they—you're poking fun at me, aren't you."

"I'd never dream of it, dear." She gave a sweet little smile. "Would you accuse a poor little old lady of doing such things?"

An all-too-familiar resigned sigh left the dragon's snout with a whoosh. "Yes, dear. I am indeed a terrible and tyrannical dragon. I conquer everything I see, so on and so forth."

"I tremble in terror." A thought came to her, and she turned more towards her wife. "How do I look?" She knew, of course; age had turned her hair gray and gifted her face with a fair set of wrinkles and creases. What warmed her heart was how Venia's gaze was warm, familiar, and held depths of affection that belied the strength of their long marriage.

"Beautiful as always," Venia said, almost offhandedly—almost. She meant it. "Why do you ask?"

Amanda's smile turned impish. "Oh, just getting you to see me. Now you'll have to conquer."

The dragon's muzzle twitched in wry amusement. "You are many things, love, but conquerable is decidedly off the table."

"Not with that attitude, you know. It's always fun when you try."

That kind of conquering was another thing entirely. Venia rewarded her with a knowing look, but others filtered into the room and began taking seats nearby. The atmosphere was optimistic, but more than a little solemn. Half a dozen space agencies had somehow cooperated to such an extent that in less than a decade, a manned Mars mission went from intellectual exercise to imminent execution. Venia found it marvelous, and the long tradition of back-and-forth teasing couldn't distract or detract from the wonder of the moment. Amanda smiled. It was worth the aches and fatigue to see her wife so thoroughly enraptured.

"Do you think we'll move back here?"

Venia stirred, and glanced down at her. "It depends where they need me. Could be here, could be out southwest. The ESA is even pushing to add dragons to their program." The edge of her wing draped over Amanda's back. "I know how you feel about this state. We don't have to move if—."

Amanda waved the suggestion away. "This is your big dream, and I'm not going to let old memories get in the way of it. Besides," she said, keeping a poker face, "Florida is where they send the old fogeys like me. Might as well get on with it."

"You are not a fogey. I find you as beautiful as ever." Venia knew it was a jest, but she did love to play along. "Besides, I like our house."

"It's a good house," she said, proud of the roots they'd put down. "But I am a little serious. I'm getting rather old, and you're still in your prime. Don't let me hold you back."

The force of Venia's scoff drew a couple glances. "You are never a burden, love." A few breaths passed, and she sighed. "Besides, a century of life is past my prime. I feel like I'm starting to slow down."

"Oh, you're slowing down?" Amanda said, mock-pouting and thumping her fist on Venia's shoulder. "My heart bleeds for you."

The dragoness grimaced. "I walked into that one, didn't I?"

"Just a bit."

"I'm sorry, love."

Amanda placed her hand on her wife's neck, and Venia looked down at her. "I'm serious, though. You know we've been avoiding this talk, and—"

"I intend to spend many more years with you, Amanda."

"—and," Amanda continued, "I still want that promise from you."

Venia was silent. It wasn't something Amanda liked to think about, either; her surgery was bad enough without waiting on several test results that could signal a downward turn in the months ahead. She hoped, but she was also working on acceptance. For all its ups and downs, life had been rather good for her. Mortality seemed less like a dark specter and more like closure.

"We'll talk about it later." Amanda stroked over the smooth hide. It was more leathery than it had been so many years ago, but then, she was hardly one to judge. She breathed in and refocused her thoughts. "But we will talk. I want you to be happy."

Venia closed her eyes. "I don't want to think about it."

"I know. Neither do I, love." She wished she was well enough to lean over and press a kiss to that neck. "But look out there. This is going to be your future. Won't it be marvelous?"

Venia did brighten at this, and looked back at Amanda. "Yes, I think it will be. Very much so."

"Good." She smiled, and let the wing furl around her shoulders like a warm cloak. "I can't wait to see you in space. You always did like to show me the stars."

And with that, Venia smiled too.

The countdown continued. Six crew from three countries and the last of the supplies for an interplanetary ship constructed in orbit—a crowning feat of human engineering, really. The buzz of conversation muted as the seconds ticked down, gantries swiveled free, the plume of smoke rose from firing engines, and finally, the clock hit zero.

The rocket wasn't as large as the Saturn V, but this time, they were several miles closer to the pad. A deep roar shook the windows, putting thunder to shame, and reminding Amanda of the many launches she'd watched at Venia's side. It took her breath away as she watched the metal-tipped plume rise above the tower, hurtling towards the wisps of clouds and beyond in the ultimate defiance of gravity. Venia, of course, never once took her eyes off it until it disappeared, leaving only an arcing trail of smoke as evidence of its passing.

It was the same look she'd had five and a half decades past, when they'd first met on that beach across the water.

Amanda smiled again. She didn't plan on leaving, but she didn't know how long she had left. Venia was her focus. She had found happiness in life, and she would make sure her wife would do the same in the future.

The hangar was mostly empty, which suited Venia's needs—the spaceplane and most of the support machinery were out on the tarmac, and those who weren't actively working on the craft itself were otherwise occupied. It gave her a few precious minutes alone with the small necklace in her paw.

"They're going to call for me any minute now," she murmured. They would want her help with last-minute checks of the calculations before she boarded. The passengers included a handful of celebrities, investors, and celebrity investors, as well as a pair of crowdfunded thrillseekers. The real attention, however, was on the VIP of the record-breaking flight: a dragoness who had dreamed of space flight for as long as she could remember.

Now, at long last, Venia was finally on the cusp of her dreams. She'd wanted to share them with her better half, but she stood alone in the vast building.

Amanda was gone.

"You should have been here," she continued, delicately caressing the small metal casing. "Even if you couldn't have come with me, just being here—." She stopped, and closed her eyes for a long moment. Her wingtips shook as she took in a slow breath.

It was a beautiful spring day in Las Cruces, New Mexico, but the weather hadn't mattered for quite some time. Amanda's health had been declining for months while Venia tested and trained for the space program. When the doctors had finally admitted they could only stamp out fires, she'd taken a few final treatments and then gone back to Boulder with Venia. They'd said goodbyes, held each other, and done away with any lingering regrets—every remaining moment had been precious.

Two days after coming home, Amanda passed in her sleep.

The funeral had been a beautiful ceremony with a surprising number of attendees—retired coworkers, old activist contacts, and friends who had come to know, accept, and celebrate their unconventional marriage. Many of them had formed a new family for Amanda, and had shared both tears and joyful memories as Venia had scattered her ashes—most of them, anyway.

"I hope you don't mind that I kept some of you with me," she said, then chuckled despite herself. "Or that I'm talking to a miniature urn on a necklace."

The urn, of course, was silent. Amanda would probably have giggled, if not poked fun at her.

But she didn't. She was gone.

Venia's throat tightened, threatening to close, and she couldn't manage more than the barest whisper. "I just miss you. I miss you so, so much." She hadn't been able to go back to the house—her personal aide had helped watch the place and gather any essentials, but that couldn't last forever. Venia would be back in Boulder for the weekend, and she had to steel herself to do what was necessary.

She had to comport herself in the present, too. She'd spent six decades studying math and the sciences, three years of testing and preliminary training, and four months of special preparation for the next few hours. She had come too far to turn back.

"Venia?" The woman's voice came almost as if on cue. "Sorry to intrude, but I'm your ten minute warning for the pre-flight tests."

She took a breath, thankful she didn't have tear ducts that would belie the cracks in her composure. "Thank you, Jane. I'll be on my way before then."

Jane nodded, and stepped back out of the open hangar before heading towards the launch building. She was an incredibly sharp technical specialist who'd found something of a rapport with Venia on the occasions they'd both crunched numbers together. Venia let herself take a look, as Amanda would have teased her to: a few inches short of six feet tall, curly hair, a bit of bounce in her step and a fairly athletic body.

She'd been too preoccupied with Amanda's decline and then her own grief to really notice, but the woman was rather attractive. If it hadn't been for the hole in her heart, she might have tried for a little flirting. Jane was single, and had seemed more than a little curious about interspecies dating. Venia wondered if it were a faux pas for a dragon to hit on a woman nearly eighty years her junior.

Then again, life was worth a few bold moves. Not anytime soon, of course, but she had years ahead of her.

"I haven't forgotten my promise," she murmured, returning her attention to the last tether of love in her paw. "To find happiness. I hope you'll forgive me if it takes a while, but I won't forget." A sound outside caught her ear: faint rattles and raised voices as the last pre-flight inspections began in earnest. She couldn't stop the surge of elation that cut through the emptiness gnawing at her heart.

She would be the first dragoness in low orbit. If it went well, it might even be the first of many such experiences; both NASA and the ESA were actively encouraging draconic contributions to spaceflight. There were talks of an even broader multinational coalition—orbital stations, mining outposts, and even colonies were all on the table. She had imagined the day for all her life, even more so after that Apollo launch so many decades ago, and now it was coming true.

All she had to do was catch her flight.

Venia looped the leather thong around her neck, securing it as close to her heart as she could manage. "Fly with me, my love." She turned to walk out the hangar. Hope—for herself, for the future—stung so soon after her loss, but it was worth it. Every moment had been worth it. Despite the ache in her soul, she smiled. "Fly with me one more time. I want to show you the stars."

END