I drove around the block but there was no parking available. Glancing at Kara, I asked, "Are you dressed warm enough to walk a few blocks or should I drop you off?" "I'll be fine. If you can handle running around naked, I can handle this," Kara replied playfully. Chuckling, I said, "I'm not naked now. And it's not fun being so cold." I kept scanning for a place to park. "We'll only be out for a little while. Are you sure you're okay to do this?" she asked for the third time. With a nod, I assured her, "I don't need to cast and we're not doing anything strenuous." Finally, I found a spot and pulled in. "They don't allow cell phones," I warned. "We can leave them here in the car rather than turning them in." "Yeah, I'd worry about getting it back," Kara agreed as she slipped her phone into the glove compartment with mine. The night was clear and the stars shone brightly. It was almost a nice night, if not for the biting cold. Holding Kara's hand tightly, we made our way to the gallery. "Do you ever display your paintings?" Kara asked curiously. Shaking my head, I admitted, "No. I've always been afraid of being found out." "What about now?" she pressed further. "My style isn't what's popular," I confessed. Opening the door to the gallery, I gestured for Kara to enter first. "I did get asked to pose a few times," I added casually. "Did you do it?" she inquired with interest. “Sometimes posing felt like an adventure, especially when I believed the artist wouldn't become famous. But there was one time when the artist enjoyed some notoriety for a while. The funny part was that even though I posed using my glamour, she painted me to look like an elf. She used human skin tones but gave me slanted eyes and pointed ears," I shared with a tinge of amusement. "You didn't know she was doing that?" Kara asked, clearly intrigued. "No. But back then, I didn't speak much English, so she might have told me and I didn't understand," I explained. The show consisted mostly of local talent, amateurs, and people who did commissions or graphic arts. Anyone could offer pieces, but the gallery was selective of what they showed. "Did you offer anything for this?” Kara asked. I get enough harassment just for being alive by those who didn’t think elves should exist. I didn’t need to antagonize it by calling attention to myself. “No. Who’d want to look at a bunch of portraits of my family?” “You paint other things.” “Not much. But I paint for me, not them.” Kara took my hand. “You do a great job painting and I think people would enjoy you sharing, but it’s not my work on display.” I glanced at her and smiled. “Maybe. I’m too used to hiding.” Kara moved to look at a sculpture. “This is an interesting one.” I looked it over. It was an abstract clay piece, not usually my forte but this was eye-catching. It would make a conversation piece. “For sculptures, this is more my preference.” I drew her to another model, this one of carved stone. It had a head that was simplified but included all the basic features. The rest was smooth clean lines representing the rest of a lithe figure. Kara looked it over. “It’s nice in its simplicity. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d pick that out.” I shrugged. “We’re still getting to know each other. Isn’t that what dating’s for?” She nodded. “I would have guessed you’d go for something like that.” She pointed to a crude, large busted, nude woman. “Those are usually fertility goddesses. Dhiarus and Shandalar would both be very upset with me if I had a statue like that.” “Dhiarus?” “The God of Life. We don’t have a fertility god. That would imply Dhiarus can’t do his job.” “But you don’t have any kids. Don’t you want any?” I shrugged. “That would have been complicated for a long time.” “What about before the others disappeared?” I nodded. “There had been a time a lover and I were trying.” I sighed. “Maybe it’s better we weren’t successful. I don’t know how I would have reacted if my kid disappeared too.” “If Dhiarus helps with fertility, did you ever talk to him?” I appreciated how Kara respected my beliefs. Her own faith wavered at times, and she had no reason to believe anything about my Gods, but she never looked down on me or acted like I was crazy. I moved to look at a fauvist painting of a woman reading a book. “She looks a little like you,” I observed. “Yeah, in that she looks female and has blond hair.” She sounded offended. I chuckled. “She doesn’t look bad. And no, I didn’t talk to Dhiarus. I was raised worshiping him. I converted shortly after I turned eighteen. This was only about a hundred years or so later and even though he said he didn’t have a problem with me worshiping Shandalar and had even told my dad to leave me alone about it, I didn’t feel comfortable going to him for help.” “Do you ever regret the change?” “No, not even when my dad was so upset.” We continued looking around at the art on display. Some were amateurish. Others were quite good. But they were bold enough to put them on display. “Whatever happened to that painting of you?” Kara asked. “It disappeared for a while. When it turned up again, I bought it. It’s in storage with most of my work.” “Can I see it sometime?” I grinned. “If you want.” She eyed me for a moment, “What was that look for?” “I was resisting to offer to show you the real thing.” “I’ve seen you. I’ve even seen you in that thong.” My grin grew. “But you haven’t seen me out of it. I was nude for the painting.” “Oh.” Her expression reminded me of when I’d invited her to sleep with me when we first met. “Kara, it’s okay. You don’t have to see it. It’s in storage. You won’t accidentally run across it.” “Would you have warned me if I hadn’t asked?” “Yes. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”