It wasn't so much the music pounding through her and setting the rhythm of her heart, or the heat of the writhing bodies around her. It wasn't even the growing assurance of everyone attendant that the most delicate form of primal passion was just a thin lining of cloth and a snap decision away, needing only a simple surrender. It was the naked current that rushed through her entire being when the other woman reached out for her hand and clutched it to her heart. For a brief pocket in time, all sense of separation fell away, leaving only a fact of being, a connected oneness, and a sudden remembrance of how it feels to be whole again.