Five Days Dose (6)
anonymous
August 28 2011, 21:52:57 UTC
It wasn't romantic.
There was something functional about six years and being unable to kiss - at least until she let out a gasping groan when Kaidan ran his hand up her ribs and over her left breast, squeezing gently, rubbing a thumb over her nipple, and her gasp prompted a proper, deep kiss.
It hurt, if she was honest, her throat too tender for the pressure, and when she winced, Kaidan kissed the skin between her collar bones, the hollow of her throat, as if he could soothe away a virus. The stray thought made her laugh and cough and they paused while Kaidan pulled her up into a sitting position, rubbing her back as she hacked and spluttered. His fingers ran up and down her spine, the touch growing lighter as her coughs settled, a tickling sensation over muscle and bone.
Inspired then, he rolled them back to the mattress and tugged the duvet over her shivering shoulders, spooning her as if she was nineteen and he was a lovesick fantasy. He placed one hand between her legs and ran the other through her hair, his kisses on her neck and shoulders and between her shoulder blades. She raised her hand behind her head, running her fingers through his hair while he slid his fingers inside her, rubbing and teasing, making her breath open mouthed and heavy. "I need more love letters," she managed.
Into her hair, he responded, "for your book?"
She laughed in an exhale and made a fist in his curls, shuddering, "for me!"
~~~~~~~~~
A transport sled buzzing the building a little too close woke her. She blinked out at the sun and grimaced, screwing her eyes shut again. Visions of the Council's propaganda strategy meetings swam before her eyes and Udina's favourite posters of her looking heroic, standing over a miniature reaper husk - where had they even got that model from? The alteration was so poor . . .
She cut that thought off with a groan, easing herself into a sitting position. She braced her elbows on her knees and rubbed her gritty eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey!" She raised her head to see Kaidan appear, shirtless, much to her appreciation, a tray of orange juice, toast and scrambled eggs in his hands. And, she noticed as he set it on the bed beside her, her tablets.
Wait, and one other thing. As Kaidan sidled into the bed beside her, she lifted the paper folded between the glasses of orange juice. She unfolded it, knowing that he was watching while trying not to. "Dear Jane," she read, her voice failing her a moment afterwards. While Kaidan slowly and methodically cut up the toast, she read,
Dear Jane,
I hate when you're sick, when you appear to be human, like the rest of us. Your mighty image is a little tarnished when I pick up your used tissues from the floor. I would be lying if I said the rosy glow of your nose set off your hair and eyes, and your sleeping snorts are not a melody that makes me weep.
Although, you always push my boundaries. Adapting Alli N'Liona's pyjak soup recipe was particularly nerve wracking. And while it is a new experience to think I might finally have the upper hand in a fight, this is one I don't enjoy.
But I am now and forever your servant, beloved, adoring second in command, so let me feed you now, let me stay with you, and let me feel better for you,
my love,
K
It was only after she awoke the second time, almost twelve hours later, still a little greasy from butter and eggs and sweat, but another tablet and a glass of water sitting by the bedside table, that she realised she was being manipulated.
She coughed, loudly, and when Kaidan appeared she feigned a stretch and a yawn. "I think I'll go back to work now."
"Oh?" Kaidan sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand through her hair. "Hold on a moment, let me . . . examine your throat."
Five Days Dose - Epilogue
anonymous
August 28 2011, 21:53:57 UTC
~~~~~~~~~
After five days of bed . . . non-rest, she stood in front of the mirror on the wardrobe, straightening her blue jacket and brushing her fingers over the rear admiral's insignia standing out in shining golden stitching.
From the bed came a rather weak cough. "Can't you stay a little longer?"
"Oh, sweetie, I couldn't possibly take any more time off," she turned away from her reflection and kissed her fingers, pressing them onto Kaidan's feverish brow. "I don't want to get sick again," she said as his lips turned down. "Miranda promised to check in on you later on. You know those super genes of her have encoded some kind of resistance." When he groaned, she snapped off a perfect salute and turned on heel to march out. "I love you," she called out as she left, getting a surly cough in return. She was sure he'd be complaining to Alli any moment now.
Well . . . it wouldn't take him long to find the letter she'd left.
And the drawing on the mirror after he took a shower.
And the picture of her in her dress blues . . . mostly.
She headed back to the meetings with a smile on her face, wondering how fevered her home coming would be.
There was something functional about six years and being unable to kiss - at least until she let out a gasping groan when Kaidan ran his hand up her ribs and over her left breast, squeezing gently, rubbing a thumb over her nipple, and her gasp prompted a proper, deep kiss.
It hurt, if she was honest, her throat too tender for the pressure, and when she winced, Kaidan kissed the skin between her collar bones, the hollow of her throat, as if he could soothe away a virus. The stray thought made her laugh and cough and they paused while Kaidan pulled her up into a sitting position, rubbing her back as she hacked and spluttered. His fingers ran up and down her spine, the touch growing lighter as her coughs settled, a tickling sensation over muscle and bone.
Inspired then, he rolled them back to the mattress and tugged the duvet over her shivering shoulders, spooning her as if she was nineteen and he was a lovesick fantasy. He placed one hand between her legs and ran the other through her hair, his kisses on her neck and shoulders and between her shoulder blades. She raised her hand behind her head, running her fingers through his hair while he slid his fingers inside her, rubbing and teasing, making her breath open mouthed and heavy. "I need more love letters," she managed.
Into her hair, he responded, "for your book?"
She laughed in an exhale and made a fist in his curls, shuddering, "for me!"
~~~~~~~~~
A transport sled buzzing the building a little too close woke her. She blinked out at the sun and grimaced, screwing her eyes shut again. Visions of the Council's propaganda strategy meetings swam before her eyes and Udina's favourite posters of her looking heroic, standing over a miniature reaper husk - where had they even got that model from? The alteration was so poor . . .
She cut that thought off with a groan, easing herself into a sitting position. She braced her elbows on her knees and rubbed her gritty eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey!" She raised her head to see Kaidan appear, shirtless, much to her appreciation, a tray of orange juice, toast and scrambled eggs in his hands. And, she noticed as he set it on the bed beside her, her tablets.
Wait, and one other thing. As Kaidan sidled into the bed beside her, she lifted the paper folded between the glasses of orange juice. She unfolded it, knowing that he was watching while trying not to. "Dear Jane," she read, her voice failing her a moment afterwards. While Kaidan slowly and methodically cut up the toast, she read,
Dear Jane,
I hate when you're sick, when you appear to be human, like the rest of us. Your mighty image is a little tarnished when I pick up your used tissues from the floor. I would be lying if I said the rosy glow of your nose set off your hair and eyes, and your sleeping snorts are not a melody that makes me weep.
Although, you always push my boundaries. Adapting Alli N'Liona's pyjak soup recipe was particularly nerve wracking. And while it is a new experience to think I might finally have the upper hand in a fight, this is one I don't enjoy.
But I am now and forever your servant, beloved, adoring second in command, so let me feed you now, let me stay with you, and let me feel better for you,
my love,
K
It was only after she awoke the second time, almost twelve hours later, still a little greasy from butter and eggs and sweat, but another tablet and a glass of water sitting by the bedside table, that she realised she was being manipulated.
She coughed, loudly, and when Kaidan appeared she feigned a stretch and a yawn. "I think I'll go back to work now."
"Oh?" Kaidan sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand through her hair. "Hold on a moment, let me . . . examine your throat."
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After five days of bed . . . non-rest, she stood in front of the mirror on the wardrobe, straightening her blue jacket and brushing her fingers over the rear admiral's insignia standing out in shining golden stitching.
From the bed came a rather weak cough. "Can't you stay a little longer?"
"Oh, sweetie, I couldn't possibly take any more time off," she turned away from her reflection and kissed her fingers, pressing them onto Kaidan's feverish brow. "I don't want to get sick again," she said as his lips turned down. "Miranda promised to check in on you later on. You know those super genes of her have encoded some kind of resistance." When he groaned, she snapped off a perfect salute and turned on heel to march out. "I love you," she called out as she left, getting a surly cough in return. She was sure he'd be complaining to Alli any moment now.
Well . . . it wouldn't take him long to find the letter she'd left.
And the drawing on the mirror after he took a shower.
And the picture of her in her dress blues . . . mostly.
She headed back to the meetings with a smile on her face, wondering how fevered her home coming would be.
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