Shiver
She shivers.
She does that a lot lately, and it's starting to distract him. The truth is he's a little worried about her. He knows people aren't supposed to shiver like that, like she's always cold. He hasn't heard anything from Frasier yet, but he isn't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, so he doesn't bring it up. If something was wrong, he'd know about it.
She shivers again, even though it's a warm night and she's already moved the log she's sitting on to barely a yard away from the campfire. He hands her his jacket and tries not to think about it. She pulls the heavy fabric tightly around her and leans into the heat. He studiously avoids looking at her, much more interested in the pebbles under his feet than the light dancing on her skin. She leans in further and he risks a glance, worried more now because if she leans any closer she'll fall off the log and into the fire.
She's still shivering.
He reaches for her without thinking, intending only to rub her shoulders to warm her some, but the motion carries through and he finds himself sitting next to her, flush against her side. He raises a hand to her forehead. Satisfied that she doesn't have a fever, he tugs on her -- his -- jacket, pulling her into him. Her arms wrap around his waist and he mimics her actions. She's shaking even more now, and he thinks that's wrong, she shouldn't be, but he doesn't know what to do. The others are resting, and she would be too, except that she's out here with him, trying to get warm. He could try to get her to the stargate, take her to the infirmary and make her stay there until she's better, but he's not exactly uncomfortable here, and she's not complaining.
Just shivering.
He feels her take a few deep breaths, trying to make her body obey, and then she presses her face against his neck and does it again. He's suddenly feeling a lot warmer, and it takes him a while to realize that she's not the only one shivering.
He can't help it, the reaction is automatic; he jumps up and steps away quickly. He regrets it immediately, guilt washing over him as she stares at the flames. She won't look at him, but now he can't stop looking at her, and he's shocked by the sight.
Her skin isn't just pale, it's pallid, and she's got dark circles under her eyes that he's sure aren't remnants of makeup. Her face looks narrower, leaner, like she's lost weight, and she never had that much to spare.
He didn't notice it before. He hasn't really looked at her in -- how long? He can't remember, but he was so careful not to look too long or too hard, so careful never to really see her, and he didn't know what a good job he'd done until now. He did it because if he didn't look at her then he could think of her, if he tried, as just another officer. One in a long line of subordinates. And it's necessary.
But it's wrong. It's wrong to treat her like just another officer, because he doesn't treat other officers the way he treats her. If one of the others started looking the way she did, he would notice, and he would notice because he doesn't ignore them.
His eyes close. For a moment he thinks he's going to be sick, but the nausea passes and he's just tired. It's wrong, it's all wrong. It takes a conscious effort to move again, but he manages, closing the distance between them quickly. He crouches in front of her, his fingers brushing her hand, and she jumps at the contact. He smiles; she didn't see him. She's disoriented, but he places one hand on the side of her face and waits. Her eyes finally focus, sky meeting earth, and they stare. He strokes her cheekbone with his thumb and she tilts her head into his palm. She knows what he's trying to do and he's glad, because trying to explain would be awkward, and he isn't sure he can speak right now anyway.
She shivers and his arms are around her. The sudden motion throws him off balance, and they fall together. He tries to land underneath her but ends up in pulling her onto his lap, and for the second time that night he finds he's not really uncomfortable, and she's not complaining.
She's shaking, though, and he's about to insist that they wake the others and go back now when his brain informs him of something important. She's laughing. Not shivering. Laughing. It's a rare sound, and he remembers how much he likes hearing it. She doesn't stop, and it is kind of funny, and soon he's laughing with her, laughing so hard they'd fall over again if they weren't holding each other up. He buries his face in her neck, breathing her in. She smells of dirt and sweat and herself, and he loves it. His fingers tangle in her hair, his head raises, his eyes flicker to her lips, and looking at her he knows if he kissed her now she would reciprocate in kind. He wants to. She wants him to. And they could, and no one else would ever know.
Which is why he doesn't. Because if he's going to love her, it's not going to be in secret. She deserves more. And hell, he wants more.
She shivers. He decides that they'll return first thing in the morning, and he'll order her to stay there and get well if he has to. But for now he kisses her forehead lightly and leans back against one of the logs serving duty as a bench, stretching out his legs. She rises and walks away, only to return carrying their sleeping bags. He shakes his head, but doesn't protest as she zips them together. She does it quickly and with a minimum of fuss, and he's reminded that she's done this before. Last time wasn't nearly as pleasant. She's finished, and he crawls into her homemade cocoon first, making himself comfortable before she insinuates herself beside him. She nestles her head against his shoulder and he can't help smiling. Definitely more pleasant.
He listens for hours. He hears her breathing become shallow and even, and he lies awake and watches her sleep. She stops shivering, and eventually his eyes fall closed. They lie together, limbs entwined, until dawn breaks Hypnos' spell.
FIN
Story Notes: Spoilers: Tiny one for Solitudes. Mentally written after season 3.
Email: romula@imperiumobscurus.com
Copyright (c) 2004 Romula
Email: romula@imperiumobscurus.com
Copyright (c) 2004 Romula
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]