Post by do on Aug 25, 2009 0:06:58 GMT -5
Planetia Utopia Quarter
Gaia
Stardate: November 2165
Boozed up. She hadn't done this in.. well, years, to be honest. Walking back from the pub - not the Slain Beasts because of her position and not the Outpost because of other problems - she had her arm loosely locked around her companion's.
"Here? You sure?"
"Yes, Sullivan. I'm sure."
They were standing in front of her place though Paul would have sworn she would have wanted to be heading to the Rickmans' house.
"Alright," Paul nodded though he couldn't quite understand why she hadn't been drinking at her usual watering hole. Another weirdness to add to tonight's list. "Come back to Ruby's anytime, McRae. Told you it wasn't so bad," he added with a wink. "I'll see you around."
"Ta!" Sloane let out too loud for the quiet of the night, and turned around on wobbly legs to reach her front door.
*
The Enterprise had been back for almost eight hours and Derick had no message from Sloane. Not that he expected her to report to him, but since they were an 'item' now and she'd been gone for a couple of weeks, Derick wanted to see her. Bad. A check of the Beast's hadn't put her there all night, which was understandable in a sense. Alright, so he'd wait for her. And never tell Tom because the man would harbour this secret and bring it up on the rare occasion Derick didn't want to be teased about it.
So here he was, kicked back on Sloane's couch, her remote in his hand as Frank Martin kicked some serious giant butt in an oil slick. Voices on the porch pulled his attention from the fight and Derick smiled, wondering if Sloane would be happy.. or rabid to see him here.
Sloane keyed her door open and tripped on her first step in, making her burp loudly when she reached for support. "Crap," she let out as she swayed for a moment before finding her balance again.
Then her instincts finally kicked in, like a month too late. By the time she turned towards her lounge and fumbled to find the weapon she wasn't carrying at her hip as usual but in her coat pocket, whomever was sitting there waiting for her could have blown her brains out ten times over. Luckily, the sexy male sitting there would only want to fuck her brains out - not blow them. Well, maybe blow her... Sloane gave him a sheepish grin, happy to see him but at the same time very ashamed at her behaviour. But the alcohol in her only fuelled her giggles and her libido tonight. Well, the alcohol and the sight of one Gunnery Sergeant in her lounge. Nope, no reasonable thoughts. It was so uncharacteristic of her, that even Paul Sullivan had been weirded out enough to walk her home, not trusting the woman to stay out of trouble in her state. She was drunk. Damn drunk. Well, that was what she had sought out.
Giggles. And a gun... not a good combination. Getting to his feet, Derick couldn't help but laugh with her as he approached her. "You're not going to shoot me, are you?" he asked, amused as he grabbed Sloane's arm to steady her. Reaching out, Derick took the pistol away from her gently, making sure the safety was on.
"No." Sloane cracked a smile and took a step back. "But I would do other things to you, my man. Hell, I would." Her speech was a little slurred, her accent thick. Whirling around suddenly, she stomped off towards the kitchen. "I need a beer. You want a beer?" she called out.
"No, thanks," Derick replied, chuckling. Sloane was drunk enough for the both of them. He followed her into the kitchen, mostly to ensure the safety of any breakable items. She looked okay, not like that time she was practically cowering in his room after that bastard had finished. "Was that Sully out there?" he asked, leaning against the door sill.
Sloane took two beers out and pushed one in Derick's hand, like she hadn't heard his reply. "Would you believe there's a gentleman underneath all that biting attitude?" she asked, a serious tone to her voice before she chuckled again. Opening her bottle, she lifted it for a toast. "You're not drinking?" Another sway and she slammed her free hand down on the counter. "You're not drinking. Alright then." Pouting, she walked around him and shuffled to the lounge, her head hanging.
Derick studied her with confused amusement, following her back to the living room as he opened the bottle. One more beer couldn't hurt, even though Sloane smelled like Fabien's brewing room. Chuckling, he shook his head, taking a drink from the beer. "There, babe... happy?" he asked, smiling as he caught her around the waist. "Don't I get a kiss?"
"Oh, yes." All smiles, Sloane hit his bottle with hers before stretching to kiss his mouth, moaning against his lips and his cheek. Reaching his ear, she murmured, "Missed you. Hell, I did." Her breath hitched on the last words and she pulled back, her strained features morphing back into a smile. She took a swig of her beer and plumped down on the sofa.
This was so damn cute. And Sloane was just not a cutesy person. "You did, huh?" Derick asked, following her to the sofa to join her. Not that Derick minded, it was just that this was so unlike Sloane, it wasn't funny. Well, yeah, it was. "C'mere," he said, holding out an arm as he leaned back into the corner of the couch. "I missed you, too...everything okay?" he asked evenly. It was the best he could, besides demanding she strip for inspection.
Still holding onto the neck of her bottle, Sloane pushed herself in Derick's arms. "Okay? Yeah, everything's peachy." She was coming down from her high a little and she didn't like it one bit. Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. Home.
"Mmm...Peachy is good," Derick replied, settling an arm around her shoulders. "Have fun at Ruby's?" he asked, setting down his beer bottle, ready to grab Sloane's if she fell asleep like that.
"Hell yeah. Boring 'Fleet bar to be true but tonight..." Sloane let out a heavy sigh, her eyes still closed. "Tonight it hit the spot." Pushing off of him suddenly, she downed half her beer before letting out another burp and falling back against him heavily. "Peachy sucks, Derick." Shaking her head slightly, she closed her eyes again.
"Mmpff...." Derick grunted, her elbow catching him near his groin. His hand shot out to cradle her arm. That arm slid around her waist as soon as Derick was sure it wouldn't rack him and he kissed the top of her head. "What's up, bashu? Tell Der..."
"Hmm-hmmm..." She shifted a little, her fingers relaxing their hold on the bottle, and her breathing eased off to a soft snore.
Yep. Zero to snooze in fifteen minutes. Easing her bottle out of her hand, Derick set it on the table. Trying not to disturb her, though it would probably take a starship crashing through the place to do so, Derick edged down on the sofa. He'd wait until she was good and asleep and then carry her into the bedroom.
-
Hands on the tiles to prop herself up, Sloane kept her head under the shower spray, willing the hot water to wash away the mother of all headaches she was feeling coming on. Of course, though it relaxed her and got rid of the booze and cigarette smells, the pounding in her head remained.
She turned the water off and dried herself quickly. Her hair wrapped around in a towel, she padded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Staring in the fridge for a moment, she looked at her option. OJ? Way too acid right now. Milk? Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought. Tea? She winced unhappily and settled for water. Lots of it.
Sunlight...window. Got it. Somewhere in the house, the shower was on, edging into Derick's morning senses gently as he stirred, one hand searching out the warm, lithe body that had previously used him as a giant pillow. Grunting, Derick's eyes opened slowly and he pushed himself to his elbows to look around.
"Sloane?" he called out, his voice morning-rough. Yawning, Derick came to the belated conclusion she wasn't in the room, hence the shower. Bravo, Sherlock. He dropped back onto the pillows, inhaling the scent that was Sloane, embedded in her sheets, her pillows. With another grunt, he pushed himself off the bed to go in search of the woman, who was no doubt drowning or nursing the mother of all hangovers. Sweats...he had sweats here somewhere. AHh.. Lower left hand drawer, he found them and pulled them on, almost tripping over his jeans. No wait, those were Sloane's. Keying the door open, Derick shuffled out into the house, homing in on the kitchen since that's where the noises were coming from.
"Mornin'," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, inhaling deeply. Clean Sloane, his next to favourite smell.
Standing in front of the kitchen window, an old shirt of Derick's as her only item of clothing, Sloane was lost in thought when a pair of hands slipped in through unbuttoned flaps to encircle her waist. Jerking back in to the 'room' as it were, the glass of water slipped out of Sloane's hand and landed in a clatter in the sink. "Aw, hell," she groaned, looking at the cracked tumbler, a frown on her face.
"Oh shit..." Derick replied, making an 'uh-oh' face as he looked over her shoulder at the broken glass. "I'm sorry, bashu. I'll clean it up," he said, kissing her neck before patting her hips to get her to move over. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"No, no. It's okay. It's me. I was miles away." Grabbing him, she pulled him a couple of steps away from the mess. "Mornin'," she returned his greeting, pressing a sloppy kiss on his neck. Red-rimmed eyes looked up at him as embarrassment heated her cheeks. "Sorry about last night, Derick," she said before looking down. She didn't remember much, but she remembered enough. Her hands went to the shirt and she started buttoning it up.
Chuckling, Derick grabbed her hands to pull them around him. That and he didn't want that body covered up. "Sorry for what? Getting blitzed and dancing on your rooftop naked, howling in the moonlight?" he asked, grinning wickedly over her head. Had she been crying? Derick wasn't sure if the puffiness to her eyes was from the alcohol after-effects or if she really had been upset.
Sloane squeezed his body to her before sliding her hands below the waistband of his sweats to get two handfuls. "That good a show, huh?" she asked then let out a pitiful groan. She buried her face against his naked chest and started nipping at the skin after a moment.
"Mmm..no, I had to give you hell for a second," Derick replied, nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head. "Everything okay, hon?" he asked quietly. Not that Sloane didn't drink, but it wasn't like her to get so trashed. And there was the matter of her face. Not that anything was wrong with it, but since she'd taken the command position up on the Enterprise, there was a delay in her usually ready smile and quippy mouth.
"Yeah..." she replied after a moment. "Was just a shitty tour this time around." And the one before. And the one before that. And undoubtedly the next one to come up too. "I needed to unwind." Slapping both his cheeks simultaneously, she pulled her hands out of his pants and took a step back. "Want breakie? I'm starving." Okay, that wasn't exactly true but she felt that if she ate a little something, it might help her headache go away.
"You're hungry?" Derick replied, an eyebrow up as he... ahem.. had to adjust himself. Sloane's touch and proximity had awaken Grok down there and the man was searching for some morning glory. Christ, the hassles of being a man sometimes. "I'll take care of the glass," he offered, turning to the sink before that wrinkle appeared between his eye brows. Every time she came back lately, Sloane was needing to 'unwind' more often than not.
Not that Derick was thinking she was having a problem with alcohol. No, he'd seen several up close and personal and Sloane didn't fit the bill. Scooping up the pieces of broken glass, Derick chucked it all into the trash bin and rinsed whatever was left down the sink.
"Thanks." Sloane got busy with serving breakfast. Toasts would do for her, but she prepared eggs for her man, knowing his appetite would demand something more substantial. "So how have you been?" she asked all of a sudden, ashamed that not once she had taken of his news since getting back. Well, she might have done last night, but she didn't remember, which in itself was disgusting behaviour on her part.
He knew that look on her face; the one that said Sloane had far more on her mind than she was letting on. "Fine," Derick replied, coming over to kiss the back of her neck. "Smells good, bashu. So...what made it shitty? Something happen or is everyone giving you a hard time up here?" he asked, leaning against the counter to watch Sloane.
A loaded question. "It'll be ready in a sec, mind handing me a couple of plates?" Sloane was stalling for time.
Giving her a wry smile, Derick reached into the cabinet over Sloane's head and brought down the requested items, setting them next to each other. "You're just eating toast?"
Putting most of the scrambled eggs from the pan on one plate, she kept a little back. "No, I'll have this and toast," she replied with a wink. "Come on, lets go sit down." Grabbing cutlery for the both of them, she headed for the table.
Taking his plate, Derick shuffled behind her and claimed the seat kitty corner from hers by setting his plate down. "You want something to drink?" he asked, heading back for orange juice.
"Water, please." Sloane gave him a quick smile then started playing with her food.
A few seconds later, Derick set her water in front of her and took his seat, letting his hand trail over her shoulders as he did so. "So what's wrong upstairs, Sloane?" he asked, giving her his best 'I'm concerned' look. "And don't say nothing, bashu...I know you better," he said, winking at her.
"Noth---" Sloane winced and picked up her knife to butter her toast. "I don't know... I mean it." There was nothing really wrong up there; she was. How did one MACO tell another they couldn't cope with their job? That they no longer liked it?
"They aren't giving you too much trouble, are they? Now that Colonel Hayes is down here?" Derick asked, starting in on his eggs.
Oh, that stab in the dark was too close for comfort even if Derick had it backwards. "No, the guys are fine... if anything, it is I who are giving 'em hell..." Sloane let trailed then shrugged. "It's all different now, you know. I mean there's nothing wrong..." She made a lot of sense.
"I see..." Derick replied, whether conscious or no, in his Gunny-knows-better voice.
Sloane gave him a look before biting into the bread with as much appetite as a kid for Brussels sprouts. "I feel I got slammed into that position. I never wanted it. It's Hayes' job not mine."
Hit a nerve. Oops. "What do you mean, 'got slammed' into it?" Derick asked, studying her. "You're good at what you do."
Her nostrils flared and she dumped her toast on the plate. Fucking logical and reasonable thinking. That's all she kept telling herself. It's her job, she can do it so she should. "Can we drop this?"
Derick studied her for a minute as he set his fork down. "I'd rather not, Sloane. Something is stressing you out, big time, and I'd like to know what it is?"
"I hate being away from you." She glanced his way and seeing that wouldn't be enough, she groaned. "It's not the same... with him gone." She pushed her plate away. "We were a team. It was great that way. Many years. And now it's all gone." Looking up at him, she added, "And I don't like it. I hate my job. I hate myself for hating it." Fuck. She pushed her chair away from the table, arms crossing over her chest.
MacHayes had years on Derick and he knew that. Now that he wasn't up there, Sloane had the command she should have had a couple of years ago. Yeah, Derick should have recognized this, should have seen it arriving. They were tight; as according to Tom and the few exercises he'd been in himself. "So, you miss him...? The colonel..." he asked quietly. Obviously, Sloane was here with him, wearing his shirt, but the rumours of Hayes and McRae had reached even Gaia. "I mean.. I've never asked, I know. But you miss him, don't you?"
Her gaze settled on him. "I miss MacHayes." Shaking her head, she gave in. "Yeah, I miss the bastard too." 'Bastard' had become an affectionate term over time. Her friend and mentor. What weighted heavily on her as well was how the two had parted. In a world of hurt, angry and silent.
"Haven't you gone to see him?" Surely she had, there was certainly time.
"Nah," she replied, lost in thought, before she realised what can of worms this admission could open.
"You haven't?" Derick returned, surprised. "Why not?" If it were something this simple, geez... "Go see him, Sloane. I'm sure he misses talking to you," he offered.
Suddenly very tense thanks to her loose mouth, Sloane shook her head sharply. "No, he doesn't." Shit, she berated herself. She so didn't want to go there.
The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees and Derick raised an eyebrow. Returning to his eggs for a minute, he looked across the dining area into the kitchen. A deaf person could have heard the anger and the...resignation? Despair...? Clearing his throat, Derick reached for her hand. "Sloane, what is it? Please talk to me." Whatever it was, it had to do with Hayes and it just wasn't her job.
Once again, her eyes levelled with his. Blue on blue. A worried and somewhat guilty look on a gentle, concerned one. She didn't want to tell him. In fact, she didn't believe it appropriate to mention anything personal about Gabriel, but any which way she looked at it, she found she didn't have a choice. She wasn't going to do a 'Hayes' on Derick and shut him out. They were too honest with each other. Had worked too hard to make a go of their relationship. Keep it fun and healthy. There were no secrets - well, except this one. And the fact she was keeping this from him was also part of her problem, of the stress and the unhappy turn some areas of her life had taken.
"It's a mess, Derick. It's been the shits ever since he got the promotion. Even before actually."
"Did you have a falling out?" Derick continued, kissing the back of her fingers. "C'mere..." he said, pulling on her hand. Sloane rarely got upset like this, when she couldn't turn it into anger.
She let him pull her up to her feet but resisted sitting on his lap. "A falling out of sort, yes." She rolled her eyes at how like Gabriel she was behaving. "Worse." Glancing at the table and then at his lap to finish on his face, she sighed. "This could take a while. Mind the sofa?" She squeezed his hand, hoping he would agree. Now that she had started this, she would see it through - if he would hear her out.
Depends on how she wanted to sit on the sofa. Derick glanced over to it, trying to shut down the inkling of panic in him. No, this couldn't be the 'we have to talk' speech. But then... last night.... Derick tilted his head in that direction and got to his feet. "No," he replied, taking his orange juice with him, nearly pulling his hand back from Sloane. Maybe this was why she was increasingly stressed out. Him. Being with him. The weight of their positions was getting to be too much and it would be easier now that Hayes was off the ship. Derick had to fight to keep himself from shutting down, from leaving. Turning for the couch, it was all Derick could do not to react, not to dive off the cliff of panic into the waiting maelstrom that was the thought of not having Sloane with him. Tense now, Derick loosened his grip on her fingers, ready to pull them out.
Sloane kept her hold on his hand and led Derick to the couch. She waited for him to sit down at one end of the couch, and she sat next to him, legs beneath her and facing his profile. Reading his anxiety, she squeezed his hand again. "Bashu... we're okay. This ain't about us. Pash, Derick, look at me."
The Martian undid him and Derick turned to face her, pulling one leg up on the couch to her other side. "It's not?" he asked her, trying to keep the panic from his face.
"Not directly, no..." Well, shit for the truth, sister, she thought. She ran a hand over her face, while the other placed his hand flat on one of her legs. "Not really."
She took a deep breath, trusting him with all her heart that he wouldn't use any of this, because deep down she couldn't stop feeling that by being honest and honourable to Derick, she was betraying Gabriel.
"You know how close they say we are... Hayes and I?"
"Yeah," Derick replied, nodding once. Of course, he knew. Every MACO knew to some extent or other and the relationship went from the normal to the extreme, depending on who you talked to.
"Well, it's been true for the professional side of things. A well-oiled machine Tucker used to say. For the rest... well, some folks have a real vivid imagination. Or so I thought."
The motor oil and battery cables had been a bit of stretch and that had been quickly quashed lest it get around and turn into a three ring circus. Derick nodded once, leaving his hand on her leg. Despite her reassurance, he still wasn't sure about this.
"Before we got back to Gaia... you know, just after the Klingon attack here... well," Sloane paused, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I found there was some truth to it after all."
"Truth to it?" Derick repeated, trying to trust in the Sloane that he knew and not back away, not run. Shit, he didn't want this but if it's what she wanted, then he would abide by that. There was truth, and Sloane knew about it.
"Yeah..." she breathed out, on so many levels still unable to believe it. "Hayes. Hayes admitted that..." She let out a ragged breath. "When he heard about you and I, he came out and said it."
Hayes knew about them? And said ...what? He didn't need the answer to that, not with the way Sloane was acting. Derick glanced at her automatically, slight panic in the deep blue that was starting to berate himself for ever admitting that stupid 'L' word. A bit of logic kicked in and stilled any fears, for now, he might have had about their relationship being found out. Obviously, he wasn't a lance corporal yet and she wasn't kicked out. But still... "And...?"
"And? And what?" His reaction baffled her.
"And is it reciprocated?" Derick asked, finally levelling his eyes at her. "I mean, you two were very close for a long time, Sloane. You...want him...instead....?"
Her jaw dropped and Sloane pushed herself away. Reciprocated? Is it reciprocated? Is the guy for real? Okay, so maybe she was slightly overreacting but come on. Where was she? Who was she with? "Oooh..." she shook her head, her eyes narrowing. Her tone turned very sarcastic. "Yeah. It's reciprocated, Derick. I want him. That's why I'm here and he's over there and we haven't spoken for three months."
Shit. Derick shook his head a heartbeat later. "Christ...I'm being a punk..." he muttered, shaking his head again. "Okay...so it's not. I mean... you're wearing my shirt. I'm sorry. I wasn't..." Derick made a face. Shit. "I wasn't thinking straight..."
She looked away and sighed. "See, that's why I didn't want to talk about it. This... this is shit. And it's fucking up the little time I have with you." She closed her eyes a moment, trying to calm herself. "We had a major fight in his office a few days before the inauguration party... and since then, well, we haven't talked. Even for work. He dodges and gets his secretary to deal with me." She shook her head. "He's mad at me. I hurt him. I chose you. Thing is, there wasn't ever any choice involved. By the time he told me, you were already here." Her hand clutched her breast just above her heart.
Derick couldn't say anything to that. Not that there wasn't anything to say, it was just... words escaped him for a moment and he hated. Hated not knowing what to say. The prospect, the idea was a little daunting, that she had chosen him over a man like the Colonel. Leaning over, Derick kissed Sloane's cheek and shifted long enough to swing his leg around to her other side. His arms went around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Sloane, I..." He went quiet for a second. "I don't know what to say, bashu. I can see why you don't want to go see him..." In a way, yes, he could. But it was this...upset in her life that was causing the stress and Derick knew what she would have to do.
"I can't go see him. He'll see it as me rubbing it in his face and I care too much about him to hurt him in this way." Sloane turned to look at Derick. "Thanks for listening... for understanding." Looking away again, she added softly, "He would have died in the line of duty and it would probably hurt less, you know? He believes I betrayed him. Ten years, best mates, his right-hand man. All gone. Doesn't mean a thing anymore... he might come around, but I won't force his hand."
"I'm sure he will," Derick replied, resting his head on her shoulder again. "Sloane... did you.. when he told you, you didn't regret choosing me?" he asked, his hands caressing her thighs.
Oh, Derick. She shifted so he could lay against her chest. "Come here." She pulled him to her, an arm around his shoulders. "There was no question. No regret. Derick... as I said before, there was no choice. In my heart you were already there. Even Gabe's admission wouldn't have pushed you out."
No, there had been no choices offered to her. Did she feel cheated because of that? Maybe. She couldn't fully contemplate that fact, let alone mention it. Part of her had wished she had known before that night at the Slain Beasts, yes, but not after. Never after.
Settling against her, Derick tucked his hands underneath her. Sloane's heartbeat was always soothing to him and now it filled his ear. Something familiar in all this talk of Colonel Hayes and the possibility of Sloane going out of his life. That... that hurt. That scared him. Nuzzling into her chest, Derick kissed what he could reach, the open area of the shirt just above her breast, closing his eyes. Inadvertently, he'd caused this and Derick hated to think of it like that, because it would mean that he had hurt her, hurt other people.
"Derick? There's more." Her voice was hesitant, unsure. Scared? Oh, yes. She dreaded this, the fact he might be hurt, might get mad at her. Hell, he could even walk out, finding he had enough of her messy baggage.
Fighting the temptation to make a joke, to respond with a bit of self-defensive humour, Derick propped his chin on a fist to look at her. "Yeah...?" he asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes. She looked as worried as he'd ever seen her and Derick wasn't all together sure he liked that.
She glanced at him then looked away, biting her bottom lip. "Promise me you'll listen... to it all... not just a bit and then block it out and leave." She turned her gaze back on him, studying his face, worried eyes meeting his.
If this was a Dear John, this was in no position to give it and though it was a corny thing to hang on to, Derick seized onto it with every ounce of faith and trust he had in Sloane. Nodding, Derick kissed her hand. "I promise." And he did. Promises weren't something he made lightly.
In that moment, he seemed so open and willing that Derick Rickman's youth shone through and Sloane felt painfully guilty to be yanking his chain in that way. In the clear blue of his eyes she could see adoration for her, and trust. Trust she felt she didn't deserve. In the next second, she contemplated pushing him away. Throwing hurtful things at him so he would dump her. Leave her. He would be better off. She regretted having him promise to remain and hear her out. She remembered being tempted of the same, back on Enterprise, when Gabriel's admission made her realise that she still had feelings for him. She felt she was cheating on Derick then and thought best, even after turning the Colonel down, to cut Derick loose. To be fair on him. Of course, when she next saw him face to face, she understood she couldn't; he was under her skin and she couldn't give him up.
Her fingers hovered above his lips for a moment, her heart and throat constricting to a point where she felt she would implode. Why was it so hard? Painful truths always were and she hoped that the man she loved, wise beyond his years on so many levels, would be able to accept hers. She looked away, her hand gripping one of his.
"Some time back..back in '56, I think.." She paused and took a shuddering breath. "I fell in love with a man." She glanced down at herself, not really seeing her chest or legs, or whatever it was her eyes were staring at, and then glanced at Derick.
"The colonel." Simple fact, a calm, quiet statement of acknowledgement. How could Derick not know that's who the man was? Sloane and Colonel Hayes were a team of long standing, about as long as Derick had been a MACO. How could two people be around each other that long and -not- feel something for the other person? Derick squeezed Sloane's hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. He'd made the decision to trust in what he saw, what Sloane told him... to trust her; a rare gift from someone like him. In this moment that could either bring a strengthening of their relationship or the destruction of it, Derick chose to trust in Sloane, in her touch, in hope.
"Yes," she let out in a sigh. "The Colonel. Well, the Major then." She gave him a small smile, trying to encourage him. That she knew she was causing him pain and that if she could prevent it, she would.
Derick nodded, smiling back though concern worried his eyes. She was so worried over this.
"It stayed with me for near three years. This schoolgirl, naive kinda love for a bastard of a CO. For a stern man who would turn out to be my mentor but also my only friend for a long time." She played idly with Derick's fingers as she spoke, pressing her hand in his or atop, measuring the difference in size. "Of course, I couldn't tell him..."
His hand willingly moved wherever she put it and Derick smiled. "I know the feeling," he said, with an affectionate smile. "Sort of...do you still care about him?" A painful question, if he let it be so but Derick had made the decision. Either he trusted her or he didn't and the answer was yes, that he trusted her. That whatever decision Sloane was making with this conversation, it wouldn't be without angst or deep, deep thought. That she was making a decision based on what she wanted, and Derick would abide with that. In the end, the only thing that mattered was Sloane's happiness.
Sloane squeezed his hand in response, still blushing if she allowed herself to think about it... that Tom's old teasing were true in one case: she had been the real poster gal for unattainable for a younger Derick, making his way up the ranks. Her smile waned though, as the question she dreaded the most was asked. Did she still care for him? Well, she had said as much already, but what she knew Derick was really asking was if she still loved him. The short, simple answer was yes. But as in everything else, it was more complicated than that.
She decided to pick up her tale where she left it, wanting to give him the whole picture, instead of a word that had enough bite to end the both of them if they let it.
"So sure it was unrequited, and fucked by the frat rules anyway, I forced myself to stop. I mean, I had to. It was eating at me, you know. You see him everyday. He's just there and you can't be the way you'd really want to..." She winced, not sure that was a picture she should be painting him. "Anyway, I buried it. Stomped on it. Quashed it. Took me a long time but I managed." She looked up, checking that Derick was still there, listening to her and not raging silently.
"Okay," Derick replied, nodding. He understood that. Reaching up, Derick brushed away that strand of hair that had fallen back across her eyes. That was not a final verdict and Derick had promised that he would hear it all.
Sloane nodded, thinking on what to say next. "I.. it got to be good after that. I'd managed to let go and was left with the good MacHayes thing going. Derick... I guess what I'm trying to say is..." She sighed, her face grimacing as she was struggling to push the words out. "I still care for him. Of course I do. And hell, somewhere, somehow, there's still a bit of that love." Her eyes locked on Derick, Sloane had stopped breathing, all her senses on him, waiting for his reaction.
Again it wasn't a final declaration. "Okay," Derick replied evenly, tempted to kiss her fingers or kiss her or something...but he didn't want to do anything to make this harder than it was already for her. Obviously, she was here, entwined intimately with him and she wasn't the type to hold him as she was letting him go. "How much is left?" he asked evenly, watching her as the pressure in the room seemed to shove their bodies even tighter together. He didn't know what else to say... trust in Sloane warring with the dire panic that hung on the horizon should she choose to leave.
"Aw..." Sloane hadn't expected that question. How much? Shit. That's something Gabriel had forced her to look at some months back and she didn't fancy the hellish trip again. Her eyes dry until now filled up when she glanced at Derick. She was going to lose him. Her lips parted a few time, trying to find the right way to say something that should never pass them. "En... enough to feel guilty?" Hating herself, she wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "To feel like I was cheating on you when I realised some of these feelings were still there, deeply buried?" She shook her head. "God, Derick..I don't know. Not enough to go to him?" Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.
Oh hell, he hadn't meant to make her cry. "Shhh... Sloane, bashu... Please don't cry," Derick asked gently, taking over wiping away the tears with his thumb. He settled his weight on her more, taking her in his arms. "I'm sorry..I shouldn't have asked," he offered. "Shhh..." How could she not have feelings for the Colonel? Derick couldn't expect her to turn it off like a faucet.
"I'm... it's okay. I'm not crying." She gave him a wry smile, leaning her face into his hand. "And it's okay you asked. Really. I should have told you this when it all happened." She sniffled and shifted slightly. "But us... we were just starting, you know... it's not something you go and dump on someone you want to get to know." Grabbing his hand again, she kissed his palm. "And I wanted to get to know you so bad... look... you're the one I love..." Shit this was difficult. "I think there might always be something for Gabe, but... the moment came and went and we never did anything about it. It's gone." How bloody stupid she and Gabriel had been, side by side and totally oblivious to the other's feelings. Sloane snorted. So much time wasted.
"You probably wonder if I'm sad about that..." She eyed him, his blue eyes pulling her in. Honesty, he deserved honesty. "I wish I could tell you no. I mean, on a bad day, yeah, it can make me sad... it's a bitterness. I wonder what could have been... but Derick, I don't regret anything. I don't regret meeting you, letting you sweep me off my feet..." A small smile amidst the tension and worry. "I don't regret us. I love you."
"Are you happy with me?" Derick asked her, a faint smile of his own reflecting nothing but affection and love for this incredible woman. His.
"Yes." No hesitation. Then Sloane looked down. "I mean, I know I look like shit and lately it's been the pits and you probably thought I wasn't..." She felt sorry to have made him doubt. Your partner shouldn't have to wonder.
Kissing her hand, Derick gently bit one of her fingers. "I was a little worried," he replied, hugging her tighter. "Beside all of this, I'm glad I make you happy. And it all makes sense now."
Her arms snaked their way around Derick and she squeezed him in response before pulling back a little. "It makes sense?" Glad it did for one of them.
"Yeah," Derick replied, grinning at her. "Like when I have an argument with Jules. My whole day just seems like shit until we talk about it." He couldn't quite find the words he was looking for. "Like the balance has to be set right again."
"Oh." She kissed his mouth before pressing her forehead to his. A teasing smile. "And what does a gunny know about the Ying and Yang and the need for balance?"
"Grok know lots. Grok smart," Derick replied, kissing her back as he caressed her chin as he smiled at her, blue eyes practically shining in his affection.
Lost in his eyes for a moment, Sloane swallowed hard. When she found her voice again, it was thick. "Aw, Derick... you're the best thing that's happened to me." With that, she pulled him close again.
"Really?" The feeling was mutual. Definitely mutual. Shifting his weight, Derick kissed her tenderly. "Everything will work itself out, bashu..."
"Yeah." She nodded against his shoulder. "I hope you're right. Derick, I'm sorry. Love you."
"Don't be sorry, Sloane," Derick replied, hugging her in tightly. "You guys were together for a long time, babe... it's a natural thing to care about each other like that." Another gentle, affectionate smile for her, his fingers brushing lightly against her shoulder. "I will say I'm happy with you. More...More than I even hoped."
"Derick..." Sloane whispered his name before leaning in for a kiss. "I'm happy. You make me happy. I just... I just wished we didn't have to hide like this... that having found you didn't mean losing someone else, you know? And.." She sighed and look down at their bodies, fitting so nicely against one another. "Well, that I wasn't coming to you with so much baggage... that I hadn't hidden that from you."
Sighing, Derick kissed her chest again and smiled up at her. She was so beautiful, so real. "Sloane..." Sliding up a bit, Derick worked a hand beneath her and the sofa. "I don't see it as baggage, ay-mer," he offered quietly. "Its a part of you... its only baggage if you let it be as such." Another kiss to her bare chest. "I knew from the beginning that you were... not simple." The lower lip quirked into a sideways grin. "Does that make sense?" he asked, hoping it did and hoping above all that he hadn't said anything offensive in that.
Her skin reacted to his caress, goose bumps spreading, but her mind was locked on his words. Where had she been when the gods had dealt out wisdom? Derick had obviously gotten her share. It's only baggage if you let it be as such. Sounded pretty good. And wasn't it what she had hoped, years ago, Gabriel would let go of for her? So the lesson wasn't coming from the master, but from a man seven-eight years her junior.
"You're amazing, Derick... and I'm... 'not simple'?" She returned his grin, one eyebrow arched up.
Returning the grin, Derick winked as he shook his head. "No. You're not simple and neither am I." He shrugged one shoulder. "Perfect for each other, I'd say," he grinned.
Sloane tilted her head then pushed on him so she could lean against his side, hands crossed on his shoulder, while she studied his face. "When did you become so insightful, Derick Rickman? Insightful and all philosophical? It's not the first time I catch you dropping hints that there's more to you than a MACO gunnery sergeant..."
Busted. His 'insight' was something anyone rarely called him on and of course, just like Tom, Sloane would be one to do it. He shrugged, a little shamed, schoolyard bravado coming up from where he had hidden it, when it was okay to admit he liked reading and had done so prolifically before. Tom would usually give him a ration of shit of about it and go on, but Derick found it a little hard to admit.
As she watched his face and eyes closing up to her, a subtle shift but there nonetheless, Sloane wondered why despite his obvious reflective nature he chose to live and be perceived as a MACO meathead. Derick was just as brilliant as his twin brother, just in different areas. And this ability of his, to stand back and take stock, to sort out the bullshit from what was important and believe that in the end all things evened out, was one of those areas. "It's okay, you don't have to share."
Oops. Danger. Road washing out up ahead. "No...it's..it's not that, exactly, it's just..." Derick shrugged. "Tom always teases me about it," he admitted, shaking his head. "It's stupid, I shouldn't be acting like this about it. Okay... you want the story.. or at least why I think I can spout off this stuff sometimes, because you know... I had to come up with a reason because it was driving me nuts," Derick was a roll now, one of those eccentric quirks to his outgoing personality.
"Don't mind Tom, he's a Godzilla fan for Christ's sake," Sloane let out before stretching to kiss his cheek. An encouragement of sorts.
Letting her kiss him, Derick grinned. "Well, he's compensating...it's the only reason I can think of." Chuckling, because it was a hit that Tom wasn't there (Thank god) to defend himself on, Derick pulled her fingers to his lips to nibble on one. "Back on the Bonaventure.. hell, anywhere really. Three years is a long fucking time to cruise in space. Yeah, we had borders, we had battles with the Xindi, the Orions and the Klingons, but other than that, there wasn't much to do onboard, being a groundpounder." Derick grinned. "Push ups, sex, run the passageways but hell...even that got boring after a while. So...I visited the ship's library one day about four months into it. Read nearly every damn thing on that ship and some things, more than once. Hell, they didn't have a whole lot, having dumped the majority of the 'useless' data for stuff they needed. I really got Jung. Freud was a sex fiend," he chuckled. "Confucius was a pretty wise geezer." This was a litany he'd run over Tom with when the teasing started.
Everything? Wow. Her eyes went to that mouth idly playing with her finger before going back to his blue eyes. So that was where all the knowledge she could see in them came from. "And who else can you comment on?" Sloane prodded.
Chuckling, Derick grinned and sucked on another slender finger. "The Dalai Lama was pretty funny. Especially in the vids. Steven Hawking... he's like a product of evolution, you know? His body was wasted, and everything went into his mind."
Hawking? Wasn't he a cosmologist from centuries past or something? Sloane wasn't sure. Okay, so science, philosophy, psychology and... religion? "Is there anything you don't read?" Sloane asked, surprised. She couldn't remember ever seeing him holding a book past weapons specs or warfare manoeuvres. Was he ashamed to really read in front of her too? Sloane wasn't Tom. "I wouldn't laugh, you know," she let out as an afterthought. "You still read?"
"Yes," Derick replied, smiling at Sloane. "But I'd rather spend the time I get with you...-with- you, instead of burying myself in a book," he said, switching out her fingers to pay attention to the next one. "And no..." He admitted cautiously, thinking of that Dr. Spock book he'd read through. Hey, it'd been something to keep him out of trouble. "To Kill A Mockingbird is one of my favourites. What about you? You read any upstairs?"
"Yeah," Sloane admitted, but nothing like brainiac here. "Read up a lot on music. Architecture and art, I'm kind of revisiting every once in a while, you know, and history. Hayes and I used to re-enact the famous battles. Music is what Brennan and I do to keep ourselves busy. We study and play." Sloane shifted again, thinking about her favourites when it was a matter of escapism. "Robert Heinlein, I really like. Him and Paul Ohl. Love his Vikings in particular. He gave his novels an anthropologist's touch, you know." She shrugged. "Pretty interesting."
"Oh yeah?" Derick asked, shifting automatically to accommodate Sloane. "Do you play guitar as well as you draw?" he asked, kissing each of her knuckles on the hand in his before turning it over to kiss her palm. He'd never really heard her play; their time was spent mainly together, hanging out with each other and using the time wisely.
"As well as?" Sloane grinned, blushing ear to ear. "I don't know. I guess I manage to keep up with Brennan well enough." Her hand smoothed down Derick's t-shirt, palm flat on his chest, a caress through the cotton. "Mum played the piano. My need for and love of music comes from her. Maybe... maybe I should play for you some time. You can tell me if I'm worth shit..." Sloane used to play at The Outpost, but that was way back when, before her relationship with Seth soured. Hunter still dropped a hint every so often that she should get back on that rickety stage but knew better than to make an outright request. He sensed something was amiss between his employer and Sloane and left it at that.
"Derick?" Sloane asked finally, her eyes lifting up to his face, searching his. "Are... are we okay?" She needed to hear him say it, that he wouldn't forsake her for what she had told him, about her and Hayes, and the residual feelings she had for the man.
Shifting his chin to his hand, Derick smiled tenderly at her and reached up to run a finger over those pouty lips. "Yeah, we're okay, bashu." He kissed her stomach and shifted again. "I can't expect you to turn those feelings off like a light, Sloane. That wouldn't be reasonable of me." Smiling, he pulled on her lower lip and brought his hand down to her bare thigh to caress it. "I want whatever makes you happy, ay-mer," Derick said softly.
...
Gaia
Stardate: November 2165
Boozed up. She hadn't done this in.. well, years, to be honest. Walking back from the pub - not the Slain Beasts because of her position and not the Outpost because of other problems - she had her arm loosely locked around her companion's.
"Here? You sure?"
"Yes, Sullivan. I'm sure."
They were standing in front of her place though Paul would have sworn she would have wanted to be heading to the Rickmans' house.
"Alright," Paul nodded though he couldn't quite understand why she hadn't been drinking at her usual watering hole. Another weirdness to add to tonight's list. "Come back to Ruby's anytime, McRae. Told you it wasn't so bad," he added with a wink. "I'll see you around."
"Ta!" Sloane let out too loud for the quiet of the night, and turned around on wobbly legs to reach her front door.
*
The Enterprise had been back for almost eight hours and Derick had no message from Sloane. Not that he expected her to report to him, but since they were an 'item' now and she'd been gone for a couple of weeks, Derick wanted to see her. Bad. A check of the Beast's hadn't put her there all night, which was understandable in a sense. Alright, so he'd wait for her. And never tell Tom because the man would harbour this secret and bring it up on the rare occasion Derick didn't want to be teased about it.
So here he was, kicked back on Sloane's couch, her remote in his hand as Frank Martin kicked some serious giant butt in an oil slick. Voices on the porch pulled his attention from the fight and Derick smiled, wondering if Sloane would be happy.. or rabid to see him here.
Sloane keyed her door open and tripped on her first step in, making her burp loudly when she reached for support. "Crap," she let out as she swayed for a moment before finding her balance again.
Then her instincts finally kicked in, like a month too late. By the time she turned towards her lounge and fumbled to find the weapon she wasn't carrying at her hip as usual but in her coat pocket, whomever was sitting there waiting for her could have blown her brains out ten times over. Luckily, the sexy male sitting there would only want to fuck her brains out - not blow them. Well, maybe blow her... Sloane gave him a sheepish grin, happy to see him but at the same time very ashamed at her behaviour. But the alcohol in her only fuelled her giggles and her libido tonight. Well, the alcohol and the sight of one Gunnery Sergeant in her lounge. Nope, no reasonable thoughts. It was so uncharacteristic of her, that even Paul Sullivan had been weirded out enough to walk her home, not trusting the woman to stay out of trouble in her state. She was drunk. Damn drunk. Well, that was what she had sought out.
Giggles. And a gun... not a good combination. Getting to his feet, Derick couldn't help but laugh with her as he approached her. "You're not going to shoot me, are you?" he asked, amused as he grabbed Sloane's arm to steady her. Reaching out, Derick took the pistol away from her gently, making sure the safety was on.
"No." Sloane cracked a smile and took a step back. "But I would do other things to you, my man. Hell, I would." Her speech was a little slurred, her accent thick. Whirling around suddenly, she stomped off towards the kitchen. "I need a beer. You want a beer?" she called out.
"No, thanks," Derick replied, chuckling. Sloane was drunk enough for the both of them. He followed her into the kitchen, mostly to ensure the safety of any breakable items. She looked okay, not like that time she was practically cowering in his room after that bastard had finished. "Was that Sully out there?" he asked, leaning against the door sill.
Sloane took two beers out and pushed one in Derick's hand, like she hadn't heard his reply. "Would you believe there's a gentleman underneath all that biting attitude?" she asked, a serious tone to her voice before she chuckled again. Opening her bottle, she lifted it for a toast. "You're not drinking?" Another sway and she slammed her free hand down on the counter. "You're not drinking. Alright then." Pouting, she walked around him and shuffled to the lounge, her head hanging.
Derick studied her with confused amusement, following her back to the living room as he opened the bottle. One more beer couldn't hurt, even though Sloane smelled like Fabien's brewing room. Chuckling, he shook his head, taking a drink from the beer. "There, babe... happy?" he asked, smiling as he caught her around the waist. "Don't I get a kiss?"
"Oh, yes." All smiles, Sloane hit his bottle with hers before stretching to kiss his mouth, moaning against his lips and his cheek. Reaching his ear, she murmured, "Missed you. Hell, I did." Her breath hitched on the last words and she pulled back, her strained features morphing back into a smile. She took a swig of her beer and plumped down on the sofa.
This was so damn cute. And Sloane was just not a cutesy person. "You did, huh?" Derick asked, following her to the sofa to join her. Not that Derick minded, it was just that this was so unlike Sloane, it wasn't funny. Well, yeah, it was. "C'mere," he said, holding out an arm as he leaned back into the corner of the couch. "I missed you, too...everything okay?" he asked evenly. It was the best he could, besides demanding she strip for inspection.
Still holding onto the neck of her bottle, Sloane pushed herself in Derick's arms. "Okay? Yeah, everything's peachy." She was coming down from her high a little and she didn't like it one bit. Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes. Home.
"Mmm...Peachy is good," Derick replied, settling an arm around her shoulders. "Have fun at Ruby's?" he asked, setting down his beer bottle, ready to grab Sloane's if she fell asleep like that.
"Hell yeah. Boring 'Fleet bar to be true but tonight..." Sloane let out a heavy sigh, her eyes still closed. "Tonight it hit the spot." Pushing off of him suddenly, she downed half her beer before letting out another burp and falling back against him heavily. "Peachy sucks, Derick." Shaking her head slightly, she closed her eyes again.
"Mmpff...." Derick grunted, her elbow catching him near his groin. His hand shot out to cradle her arm. That arm slid around her waist as soon as Derick was sure it wouldn't rack him and he kissed the top of her head. "What's up, bashu? Tell Der..."
"Hmm-hmmm..." She shifted a little, her fingers relaxing their hold on the bottle, and her breathing eased off to a soft snore.
Yep. Zero to snooze in fifteen minutes. Easing her bottle out of her hand, Derick set it on the table. Trying not to disturb her, though it would probably take a starship crashing through the place to do so, Derick edged down on the sofa. He'd wait until she was good and asleep and then carry her into the bedroom.
-
Hands on the tiles to prop herself up, Sloane kept her head under the shower spray, willing the hot water to wash away the mother of all headaches she was feeling coming on. Of course, though it relaxed her and got rid of the booze and cigarette smells, the pounding in her head remained.
She turned the water off and dried herself quickly. Her hair wrapped around in a towel, she padded to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Staring in the fridge for a moment, she looked at her option. OJ? Way too acid right now. Milk? Her stomach flip-flopped at the thought. Tea? She winced unhappily and settled for water. Lots of it.
Sunlight...window. Got it. Somewhere in the house, the shower was on, edging into Derick's morning senses gently as he stirred, one hand searching out the warm, lithe body that had previously used him as a giant pillow. Grunting, Derick's eyes opened slowly and he pushed himself to his elbows to look around.
"Sloane?" he called out, his voice morning-rough. Yawning, Derick came to the belated conclusion she wasn't in the room, hence the shower. Bravo, Sherlock. He dropped back onto the pillows, inhaling the scent that was Sloane, embedded in her sheets, her pillows. With another grunt, he pushed himself off the bed to go in search of the woman, who was no doubt drowning or nursing the mother of all hangovers. Sweats...he had sweats here somewhere. AHh.. Lower left hand drawer, he found them and pulled them on, almost tripping over his jeans. No wait, those were Sloane's. Keying the door open, Derick shuffled out into the house, homing in on the kitchen since that's where the noises were coming from.
"Mornin'," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, inhaling deeply. Clean Sloane, his next to favourite smell.
Standing in front of the kitchen window, an old shirt of Derick's as her only item of clothing, Sloane was lost in thought when a pair of hands slipped in through unbuttoned flaps to encircle her waist. Jerking back in to the 'room' as it were, the glass of water slipped out of Sloane's hand and landed in a clatter in the sink. "Aw, hell," she groaned, looking at the cracked tumbler, a frown on her face.
"Oh shit..." Derick replied, making an 'uh-oh' face as he looked over her shoulder at the broken glass. "I'm sorry, bashu. I'll clean it up," he said, kissing her neck before patting her hips to get her to move over. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"No, no. It's okay. It's me. I was miles away." Grabbing him, she pulled him a couple of steps away from the mess. "Mornin'," she returned his greeting, pressing a sloppy kiss on his neck. Red-rimmed eyes looked up at him as embarrassment heated her cheeks. "Sorry about last night, Derick," she said before looking down. She didn't remember much, but she remembered enough. Her hands went to the shirt and she started buttoning it up.
Chuckling, Derick grabbed her hands to pull them around him. That and he didn't want that body covered up. "Sorry for what? Getting blitzed and dancing on your rooftop naked, howling in the moonlight?" he asked, grinning wickedly over her head. Had she been crying? Derick wasn't sure if the puffiness to her eyes was from the alcohol after-effects or if she really had been upset.
Sloane squeezed his body to her before sliding her hands below the waistband of his sweats to get two handfuls. "That good a show, huh?" she asked then let out a pitiful groan. She buried her face against his naked chest and started nipping at the skin after a moment.
"Mmm..no, I had to give you hell for a second," Derick replied, nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head. "Everything okay, hon?" he asked quietly. Not that Sloane didn't drink, but it wasn't like her to get so trashed. And there was the matter of her face. Not that anything was wrong with it, but since she'd taken the command position up on the Enterprise, there was a delay in her usually ready smile and quippy mouth.
"Yeah..." she replied after a moment. "Was just a shitty tour this time around." And the one before. And the one before that. And undoubtedly the next one to come up too. "I needed to unwind." Slapping both his cheeks simultaneously, she pulled her hands out of his pants and took a step back. "Want breakie? I'm starving." Okay, that wasn't exactly true but she felt that if she ate a little something, it might help her headache go away.
"You're hungry?" Derick replied, an eyebrow up as he... ahem.. had to adjust himself. Sloane's touch and proximity had awaken Grok down there and the man was searching for some morning glory. Christ, the hassles of being a man sometimes. "I'll take care of the glass," he offered, turning to the sink before that wrinkle appeared between his eye brows. Every time she came back lately, Sloane was needing to 'unwind' more often than not.
Not that Derick was thinking she was having a problem with alcohol. No, he'd seen several up close and personal and Sloane didn't fit the bill. Scooping up the pieces of broken glass, Derick chucked it all into the trash bin and rinsed whatever was left down the sink.
"Thanks." Sloane got busy with serving breakfast. Toasts would do for her, but she prepared eggs for her man, knowing his appetite would demand something more substantial. "So how have you been?" she asked all of a sudden, ashamed that not once she had taken of his news since getting back. Well, she might have done last night, but she didn't remember, which in itself was disgusting behaviour on her part.
He knew that look on her face; the one that said Sloane had far more on her mind than she was letting on. "Fine," Derick replied, coming over to kiss the back of her neck. "Smells good, bashu. So...what made it shitty? Something happen or is everyone giving you a hard time up here?" he asked, leaning against the counter to watch Sloane.
A loaded question. "It'll be ready in a sec, mind handing me a couple of plates?" Sloane was stalling for time.
Giving her a wry smile, Derick reached into the cabinet over Sloane's head and brought down the requested items, setting them next to each other. "You're just eating toast?"
Putting most of the scrambled eggs from the pan on one plate, she kept a little back. "No, I'll have this and toast," she replied with a wink. "Come on, lets go sit down." Grabbing cutlery for the both of them, she headed for the table.
Taking his plate, Derick shuffled behind her and claimed the seat kitty corner from hers by setting his plate down. "You want something to drink?" he asked, heading back for orange juice.
"Water, please." Sloane gave him a quick smile then started playing with her food.
A few seconds later, Derick set her water in front of her and took his seat, letting his hand trail over her shoulders as he did so. "So what's wrong upstairs, Sloane?" he asked, giving her his best 'I'm concerned' look. "And don't say nothing, bashu...I know you better," he said, winking at her.
"Noth---" Sloane winced and picked up her knife to butter her toast. "I don't know... I mean it." There was nothing really wrong up there; she was. How did one MACO tell another they couldn't cope with their job? That they no longer liked it?
"They aren't giving you too much trouble, are they? Now that Colonel Hayes is down here?" Derick asked, starting in on his eggs.
Oh, that stab in the dark was too close for comfort even if Derick had it backwards. "No, the guys are fine... if anything, it is I who are giving 'em hell..." Sloane let trailed then shrugged. "It's all different now, you know. I mean there's nothing wrong..." She made a lot of sense.
"I see..." Derick replied, whether conscious or no, in his Gunny-knows-better voice.
Sloane gave him a look before biting into the bread with as much appetite as a kid for Brussels sprouts. "I feel I got slammed into that position. I never wanted it. It's Hayes' job not mine."
Hit a nerve. Oops. "What do you mean, 'got slammed' into it?" Derick asked, studying her. "You're good at what you do."
Her nostrils flared and she dumped her toast on the plate. Fucking logical and reasonable thinking. That's all she kept telling herself. It's her job, she can do it so she should. "Can we drop this?"
Derick studied her for a minute as he set his fork down. "I'd rather not, Sloane. Something is stressing you out, big time, and I'd like to know what it is?"
"I hate being away from you." She glanced his way and seeing that wouldn't be enough, she groaned. "It's not the same... with him gone." She pushed her plate away. "We were a team. It was great that way. Many years. And now it's all gone." Looking up at him, she added, "And I don't like it. I hate my job. I hate myself for hating it." Fuck. She pushed her chair away from the table, arms crossing over her chest.
MacHayes had years on Derick and he knew that. Now that he wasn't up there, Sloane had the command she should have had a couple of years ago. Yeah, Derick should have recognized this, should have seen it arriving. They were tight; as according to Tom and the few exercises he'd been in himself. "So, you miss him...? The colonel..." he asked quietly. Obviously, Sloane was here with him, wearing his shirt, but the rumours of Hayes and McRae had reached even Gaia. "I mean.. I've never asked, I know. But you miss him, don't you?"
Her gaze settled on him. "I miss MacHayes." Shaking her head, she gave in. "Yeah, I miss the bastard too." 'Bastard' had become an affectionate term over time. Her friend and mentor. What weighted heavily on her as well was how the two had parted. In a world of hurt, angry and silent.
"Haven't you gone to see him?" Surely she had, there was certainly time.
"Nah," she replied, lost in thought, before she realised what can of worms this admission could open.
"You haven't?" Derick returned, surprised. "Why not?" If it were something this simple, geez... "Go see him, Sloane. I'm sure he misses talking to you," he offered.
Suddenly very tense thanks to her loose mouth, Sloane shook her head sharply. "No, he doesn't." Shit, she berated herself. She so didn't want to go there.
The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees and Derick raised an eyebrow. Returning to his eggs for a minute, he looked across the dining area into the kitchen. A deaf person could have heard the anger and the...resignation? Despair...? Clearing his throat, Derick reached for her hand. "Sloane, what is it? Please talk to me." Whatever it was, it had to do with Hayes and it just wasn't her job.
Once again, her eyes levelled with his. Blue on blue. A worried and somewhat guilty look on a gentle, concerned one. She didn't want to tell him. In fact, she didn't believe it appropriate to mention anything personal about Gabriel, but any which way she looked at it, she found she didn't have a choice. She wasn't going to do a 'Hayes' on Derick and shut him out. They were too honest with each other. Had worked too hard to make a go of their relationship. Keep it fun and healthy. There were no secrets - well, except this one. And the fact she was keeping this from him was also part of her problem, of the stress and the unhappy turn some areas of her life had taken.
"It's a mess, Derick. It's been the shits ever since he got the promotion. Even before actually."
"Did you have a falling out?" Derick continued, kissing the back of her fingers. "C'mere..." he said, pulling on her hand. Sloane rarely got upset like this, when she couldn't turn it into anger.
She let him pull her up to her feet but resisted sitting on his lap. "A falling out of sort, yes." She rolled her eyes at how like Gabriel she was behaving. "Worse." Glancing at the table and then at his lap to finish on his face, she sighed. "This could take a while. Mind the sofa?" She squeezed his hand, hoping he would agree. Now that she had started this, she would see it through - if he would hear her out.
Depends on how she wanted to sit on the sofa. Derick glanced over to it, trying to shut down the inkling of panic in him. No, this couldn't be the 'we have to talk' speech. But then... last night.... Derick tilted his head in that direction and got to his feet. "No," he replied, taking his orange juice with him, nearly pulling his hand back from Sloane. Maybe this was why she was increasingly stressed out. Him. Being with him. The weight of their positions was getting to be too much and it would be easier now that Hayes was off the ship. Derick had to fight to keep himself from shutting down, from leaving. Turning for the couch, it was all Derick could do not to react, not to dive off the cliff of panic into the waiting maelstrom that was the thought of not having Sloane with him. Tense now, Derick loosened his grip on her fingers, ready to pull them out.
Sloane kept her hold on his hand and led Derick to the couch. She waited for him to sit down at one end of the couch, and she sat next to him, legs beneath her and facing his profile. Reading his anxiety, she squeezed his hand again. "Bashu... we're okay. This ain't about us. Pash, Derick, look at me."
The Martian undid him and Derick turned to face her, pulling one leg up on the couch to her other side. "It's not?" he asked her, trying to keep the panic from his face.
"Not directly, no..." Well, shit for the truth, sister, she thought. She ran a hand over her face, while the other placed his hand flat on one of her legs. "Not really."
She took a deep breath, trusting him with all her heart that he wouldn't use any of this, because deep down she couldn't stop feeling that by being honest and honourable to Derick, she was betraying Gabriel.
"You know how close they say we are... Hayes and I?"
"Yeah," Derick replied, nodding once. Of course, he knew. Every MACO knew to some extent or other and the relationship went from the normal to the extreme, depending on who you talked to.
"Well, it's been true for the professional side of things. A well-oiled machine Tucker used to say. For the rest... well, some folks have a real vivid imagination. Or so I thought."
The motor oil and battery cables had been a bit of stretch and that had been quickly quashed lest it get around and turn into a three ring circus. Derick nodded once, leaving his hand on her leg. Despite her reassurance, he still wasn't sure about this.
"Before we got back to Gaia... you know, just after the Klingon attack here... well," Sloane paused, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I found there was some truth to it after all."
"Truth to it?" Derick repeated, trying to trust in the Sloane that he knew and not back away, not run. Shit, he didn't want this but if it's what she wanted, then he would abide by that. There was truth, and Sloane knew about it.
"Yeah..." she breathed out, on so many levels still unable to believe it. "Hayes. Hayes admitted that..." She let out a ragged breath. "When he heard about you and I, he came out and said it."
Hayes knew about them? And said ...what? He didn't need the answer to that, not with the way Sloane was acting. Derick glanced at her automatically, slight panic in the deep blue that was starting to berate himself for ever admitting that stupid 'L' word. A bit of logic kicked in and stilled any fears, for now, he might have had about their relationship being found out. Obviously, he wasn't a lance corporal yet and she wasn't kicked out. But still... "And...?"
"And? And what?" His reaction baffled her.
"And is it reciprocated?" Derick asked, finally levelling his eyes at her. "I mean, you two were very close for a long time, Sloane. You...want him...instead....?"
Her jaw dropped and Sloane pushed herself away. Reciprocated? Is it reciprocated? Is the guy for real? Okay, so maybe she was slightly overreacting but come on. Where was she? Who was she with? "Oooh..." she shook her head, her eyes narrowing. Her tone turned very sarcastic. "Yeah. It's reciprocated, Derick. I want him. That's why I'm here and he's over there and we haven't spoken for three months."
Shit. Derick shook his head a heartbeat later. "Christ...I'm being a punk..." he muttered, shaking his head again. "Okay...so it's not. I mean... you're wearing my shirt. I'm sorry. I wasn't..." Derick made a face. Shit. "I wasn't thinking straight..."
She looked away and sighed. "See, that's why I didn't want to talk about it. This... this is shit. And it's fucking up the little time I have with you." She closed her eyes a moment, trying to calm herself. "We had a major fight in his office a few days before the inauguration party... and since then, well, we haven't talked. Even for work. He dodges and gets his secretary to deal with me." She shook her head. "He's mad at me. I hurt him. I chose you. Thing is, there wasn't ever any choice involved. By the time he told me, you were already here." Her hand clutched her breast just above her heart.
Derick couldn't say anything to that. Not that there wasn't anything to say, it was just... words escaped him for a moment and he hated. Hated not knowing what to say. The prospect, the idea was a little daunting, that she had chosen him over a man like the Colonel. Leaning over, Derick kissed Sloane's cheek and shifted long enough to swing his leg around to her other side. His arms went around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Sloane, I..." He went quiet for a second. "I don't know what to say, bashu. I can see why you don't want to go see him..." In a way, yes, he could. But it was this...upset in her life that was causing the stress and Derick knew what she would have to do.
"I can't go see him. He'll see it as me rubbing it in his face and I care too much about him to hurt him in this way." Sloane turned to look at Derick. "Thanks for listening... for understanding." Looking away again, she added softly, "He would have died in the line of duty and it would probably hurt less, you know? He believes I betrayed him. Ten years, best mates, his right-hand man. All gone. Doesn't mean a thing anymore... he might come around, but I won't force his hand."
"I'm sure he will," Derick replied, resting his head on her shoulder again. "Sloane... did you.. when he told you, you didn't regret choosing me?" he asked, his hands caressing her thighs.
Oh, Derick. She shifted so he could lay against her chest. "Come here." She pulled him to her, an arm around his shoulders. "There was no question. No regret. Derick... as I said before, there was no choice. In my heart you were already there. Even Gabe's admission wouldn't have pushed you out."
No, there had been no choices offered to her. Did she feel cheated because of that? Maybe. She couldn't fully contemplate that fact, let alone mention it. Part of her had wished she had known before that night at the Slain Beasts, yes, but not after. Never after.
Settling against her, Derick tucked his hands underneath her. Sloane's heartbeat was always soothing to him and now it filled his ear. Something familiar in all this talk of Colonel Hayes and the possibility of Sloane going out of his life. That... that hurt. That scared him. Nuzzling into her chest, Derick kissed what he could reach, the open area of the shirt just above her breast, closing his eyes. Inadvertently, he'd caused this and Derick hated to think of it like that, because it would mean that he had hurt her, hurt other people.
"Derick? There's more." Her voice was hesitant, unsure. Scared? Oh, yes. She dreaded this, the fact he might be hurt, might get mad at her. Hell, he could even walk out, finding he had enough of her messy baggage.
Fighting the temptation to make a joke, to respond with a bit of self-defensive humour, Derick propped his chin on a fist to look at her. "Yeah...?" he asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes. She looked as worried as he'd ever seen her and Derick wasn't all together sure he liked that.
She glanced at him then looked away, biting her bottom lip. "Promise me you'll listen... to it all... not just a bit and then block it out and leave." She turned her gaze back on him, studying his face, worried eyes meeting his.
If this was a Dear John, this was in no position to give it and though it was a corny thing to hang on to, Derick seized onto it with every ounce of faith and trust he had in Sloane. Nodding, Derick kissed her hand. "I promise." And he did. Promises weren't something he made lightly.
In that moment, he seemed so open and willing that Derick Rickman's youth shone through and Sloane felt painfully guilty to be yanking his chain in that way. In the clear blue of his eyes she could see adoration for her, and trust. Trust she felt she didn't deserve. In the next second, she contemplated pushing him away. Throwing hurtful things at him so he would dump her. Leave her. He would be better off. She regretted having him promise to remain and hear her out. She remembered being tempted of the same, back on Enterprise, when Gabriel's admission made her realise that she still had feelings for him. She felt she was cheating on Derick then and thought best, even after turning the Colonel down, to cut Derick loose. To be fair on him. Of course, when she next saw him face to face, she understood she couldn't; he was under her skin and she couldn't give him up.
Her fingers hovered above his lips for a moment, her heart and throat constricting to a point where she felt she would implode. Why was it so hard? Painful truths always were and she hoped that the man she loved, wise beyond his years on so many levels, would be able to accept hers. She looked away, her hand gripping one of his.
"Some time back..back in '56, I think.." She paused and took a shuddering breath. "I fell in love with a man." She glanced down at herself, not really seeing her chest or legs, or whatever it was her eyes were staring at, and then glanced at Derick.
"The colonel." Simple fact, a calm, quiet statement of acknowledgement. How could Derick not know that's who the man was? Sloane and Colonel Hayes were a team of long standing, about as long as Derick had been a MACO. How could two people be around each other that long and -not- feel something for the other person? Derick squeezed Sloane's hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. He'd made the decision to trust in what he saw, what Sloane told him... to trust her; a rare gift from someone like him. In this moment that could either bring a strengthening of their relationship or the destruction of it, Derick chose to trust in Sloane, in her touch, in hope.
"Yes," she let out in a sigh. "The Colonel. Well, the Major then." She gave him a small smile, trying to encourage him. That she knew she was causing him pain and that if she could prevent it, she would.
Derick nodded, smiling back though concern worried his eyes. She was so worried over this.
"It stayed with me for near three years. This schoolgirl, naive kinda love for a bastard of a CO. For a stern man who would turn out to be my mentor but also my only friend for a long time." She played idly with Derick's fingers as she spoke, pressing her hand in his or atop, measuring the difference in size. "Of course, I couldn't tell him..."
His hand willingly moved wherever she put it and Derick smiled. "I know the feeling," he said, with an affectionate smile. "Sort of...do you still care about him?" A painful question, if he let it be so but Derick had made the decision. Either he trusted her or he didn't and the answer was yes, that he trusted her. That whatever decision Sloane was making with this conversation, it wouldn't be without angst or deep, deep thought. That she was making a decision based on what she wanted, and Derick would abide with that. In the end, the only thing that mattered was Sloane's happiness.
Sloane squeezed his hand in response, still blushing if she allowed herself to think about it... that Tom's old teasing were true in one case: she had been the real poster gal for unattainable for a younger Derick, making his way up the ranks. Her smile waned though, as the question she dreaded the most was asked. Did she still care for him? Well, she had said as much already, but what she knew Derick was really asking was if she still loved him. The short, simple answer was yes. But as in everything else, it was more complicated than that.
She decided to pick up her tale where she left it, wanting to give him the whole picture, instead of a word that had enough bite to end the both of them if they let it.
"So sure it was unrequited, and fucked by the frat rules anyway, I forced myself to stop. I mean, I had to. It was eating at me, you know. You see him everyday. He's just there and you can't be the way you'd really want to..." She winced, not sure that was a picture she should be painting him. "Anyway, I buried it. Stomped on it. Quashed it. Took me a long time but I managed." She looked up, checking that Derick was still there, listening to her and not raging silently.
"Okay," Derick replied, nodding. He understood that. Reaching up, Derick brushed away that strand of hair that had fallen back across her eyes. That was not a final verdict and Derick had promised that he would hear it all.
Sloane nodded, thinking on what to say next. "I.. it got to be good after that. I'd managed to let go and was left with the good MacHayes thing going. Derick... I guess what I'm trying to say is..." She sighed, her face grimacing as she was struggling to push the words out. "I still care for him. Of course I do. And hell, somewhere, somehow, there's still a bit of that love." Her eyes locked on Derick, Sloane had stopped breathing, all her senses on him, waiting for his reaction.
Again it wasn't a final declaration. "Okay," Derick replied evenly, tempted to kiss her fingers or kiss her or something...but he didn't want to do anything to make this harder than it was already for her. Obviously, she was here, entwined intimately with him and she wasn't the type to hold him as she was letting him go. "How much is left?" he asked evenly, watching her as the pressure in the room seemed to shove their bodies even tighter together. He didn't know what else to say... trust in Sloane warring with the dire panic that hung on the horizon should she choose to leave.
"Aw..." Sloane hadn't expected that question. How much? Shit. That's something Gabriel had forced her to look at some months back and she didn't fancy the hellish trip again. Her eyes dry until now filled up when she glanced at Derick. She was going to lose him. Her lips parted a few time, trying to find the right way to say something that should never pass them. "En... enough to feel guilty?" Hating herself, she wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "To feel like I was cheating on you when I realised some of these feelings were still there, deeply buried?" She shook her head. "God, Derick..I don't know. Not enough to go to him?" Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.
Oh hell, he hadn't meant to make her cry. "Shhh... Sloane, bashu... Please don't cry," Derick asked gently, taking over wiping away the tears with his thumb. He settled his weight on her more, taking her in his arms. "I'm sorry..I shouldn't have asked," he offered. "Shhh..." How could she not have feelings for the Colonel? Derick couldn't expect her to turn it off like a faucet.
"I'm... it's okay. I'm not crying." She gave him a wry smile, leaning her face into his hand. "And it's okay you asked. Really. I should have told you this when it all happened." She sniffled and shifted slightly. "But us... we were just starting, you know... it's not something you go and dump on someone you want to get to know." Grabbing his hand again, she kissed his palm. "And I wanted to get to know you so bad... look... you're the one I love..." Shit this was difficult. "I think there might always be something for Gabe, but... the moment came and went and we never did anything about it. It's gone." How bloody stupid she and Gabriel had been, side by side and totally oblivious to the other's feelings. Sloane snorted. So much time wasted.
"You probably wonder if I'm sad about that..." She eyed him, his blue eyes pulling her in. Honesty, he deserved honesty. "I wish I could tell you no. I mean, on a bad day, yeah, it can make me sad... it's a bitterness. I wonder what could have been... but Derick, I don't regret anything. I don't regret meeting you, letting you sweep me off my feet..." A small smile amidst the tension and worry. "I don't regret us. I love you."
"Are you happy with me?" Derick asked her, a faint smile of his own reflecting nothing but affection and love for this incredible woman. His.
"Yes." No hesitation. Then Sloane looked down. "I mean, I know I look like shit and lately it's been the pits and you probably thought I wasn't..." She felt sorry to have made him doubt. Your partner shouldn't have to wonder.
Kissing her hand, Derick gently bit one of her fingers. "I was a little worried," he replied, hugging her tighter. "Beside all of this, I'm glad I make you happy. And it all makes sense now."
Her arms snaked their way around Derick and she squeezed him in response before pulling back a little. "It makes sense?" Glad it did for one of them.
"Yeah," Derick replied, grinning at her. "Like when I have an argument with Jules. My whole day just seems like shit until we talk about it." He couldn't quite find the words he was looking for. "Like the balance has to be set right again."
"Oh." She kissed his mouth before pressing her forehead to his. A teasing smile. "And what does a gunny know about the Ying and Yang and the need for balance?"
"Grok know lots. Grok smart," Derick replied, kissing her back as he caressed her chin as he smiled at her, blue eyes practically shining in his affection.
Lost in his eyes for a moment, Sloane swallowed hard. When she found her voice again, it was thick. "Aw, Derick... you're the best thing that's happened to me." With that, she pulled him close again.
"Really?" The feeling was mutual. Definitely mutual. Shifting his weight, Derick kissed her tenderly. "Everything will work itself out, bashu..."
"Yeah." She nodded against his shoulder. "I hope you're right. Derick, I'm sorry. Love you."
"Don't be sorry, Sloane," Derick replied, hugging her in tightly. "You guys were together for a long time, babe... it's a natural thing to care about each other like that." Another gentle, affectionate smile for her, his fingers brushing lightly against her shoulder. "I will say I'm happy with you. More...More than I even hoped."
"Derick..." Sloane whispered his name before leaning in for a kiss. "I'm happy. You make me happy. I just... I just wished we didn't have to hide like this... that having found you didn't mean losing someone else, you know? And.." She sighed and look down at their bodies, fitting so nicely against one another. "Well, that I wasn't coming to you with so much baggage... that I hadn't hidden that from you."
Sighing, Derick kissed her chest again and smiled up at her. She was so beautiful, so real. "Sloane..." Sliding up a bit, Derick worked a hand beneath her and the sofa. "I don't see it as baggage, ay-mer," he offered quietly. "Its a part of you... its only baggage if you let it be as such." Another kiss to her bare chest. "I knew from the beginning that you were... not simple." The lower lip quirked into a sideways grin. "Does that make sense?" he asked, hoping it did and hoping above all that he hadn't said anything offensive in that.
Her skin reacted to his caress, goose bumps spreading, but her mind was locked on his words. Where had she been when the gods had dealt out wisdom? Derick had obviously gotten her share. It's only baggage if you let it be as such. Sounded pretty good. And wasn't it what she had hoped, years ago, Gabriel would let go of for her? So the lesson wasn't coming from the master, but from a man seven-eight years her junior.
"You're amazing, Derick... and I'm... 'not simple'?" She returned his grin, one eyebrow arched up.
Returning the grin, Derick winked as he shook his head. "No. You're not simple and neither am I." He shrugged one shoulder. "Perfect for each other, I'd say," he grinned.
Sloane tilted her head then pushed on him so she could lean against his side, hands crossed on his shoulder, while she studied his face. "When did you become so insightful, Derick Rickman? Insightful and all philosophical? It's not the first time I catch you dropping hints that there's more to you than a MACO gunnery sergeant..."
Busted. His 'insight' was something anyone rarely called him on and of course, just like Tom, Sloane would be one to do it. He shrugged, a little shamed, schoolyard bravado coming up from where he had hidden it, when it was okay to admit he liked reading and had done so prolifically before. Tom would usually give him a ration of shit of about it and go on, but Derick found it a little hard to admit.
As she watched his face and eyes closing up to her, a subtle shift but there nonetheless, Sloane wondered why despite his obvious reflective nature he chose to live and be perceived as a MACO meathead. Derick was just as brilliant as his twin brother, just in different areas. And this ability of his, to stand back and take stock, to sort out the bullshit from what was important and believe that in the end all things evened out, was one of those areas. "It's okay, you don't have to share."
Oops. Danger. Road washing out up ahead. "No...it's..it's not that, exactly, it's just..." Derick shrugged. "Tom always teases me about it," he admitted, shaking his head. "It's stupid, I shouldn't be acting like this about it. Okay... you want the story.. or at least why I think I can spout off this stuff sometimes, because you know... I had to come up with a reason because it was driving me nuts," Derick was a roll now, one of those eccentric quirks to his outgoing personality.
"Don't mind Tom, he's a Godzilla fan for Christ's sake," Sloane let out before stretching to kiss his cheek. An encouragement of sorts.
Letting her kiss him, Derick grinned. "Well, he's compensating...it's the only reason I can think of." Chuckling, because it was a hit that Tom wasn't there (Thank god) to defend himself on, Derick pulled her fingers to his lips to nibble on one. "Back on the Bonaventure.. hell, anywhere really. Three years is a long fucking time to cruise in space. Yeah, we had borders, we had battles with the Xindi, the Orions and the Klingons, but other than that, there wasn't much to do onboard, being a groundpounder." Derick grinned. "Push ups, sex, run the passageways but hell...even that got boring after a while. So...I visited the ship's library one day about four months into it. Read nearly every damn thing on that ship and some things, more than once. Hell, they didn't have a whole lot, having dumped the majority of the 'useless' data for stuff they needed. I really got Jung. Freud was a sex fiend," he chuckled. "Confucius was a pretty wise geezer." This was a litany he'd run over Tom with when the teasing started.
Everything? Wow. Her eyes went to that mouth idly playing with her finger before going back to his blue eyes. So that was where all the knowledge she could see in them came from. "And who else can you comment on?" Sloane prodded.
Chuckling, Derick grinned and sucked on another slender finger. "The Dalai Lama was pretty funny. Especially in the vids. Steven Hawking... he's like a product of evolution, you know? His body was wasted, and everything went into his mind."
Hawking? Wasn't he a cosmologist from centuries past or something? Sloane wasn't sure. Okay, so science, philosophy, psychology and... religion? "Is there anything you don't read?" Sloane asked, surprised. She couldn't remember ever seeing him holding a book past weapons specs or warfare manoeuvres. Was he ashamed to really read in front of her too? Sloane wasn't Tom. "I wouldn't laugh, you know," she let out as an afterthought. "You still read?"
"Yes," Derick replied, smiling at Sloane. "But I'd rather spend the time I get with you...-with- you, instead of burying myself in a book," he said, switching out her fingers to pay attention to the next one. "And no..." He admitted cautiously, thinking of that Dr. Spock book he'd read through. Hey, it'd been something to keep him out of trouble. "To Kill A Mockingbird is one of my favourites. What about you? You read any upstairs?"
"Yeah," Sloane admitted, but nothing like brainiac here. "Read up a lot on music. Architecture and art, I'm kind of revisiting every once in a while, you know, and history. Hayes and I used to re-enact the famous battles. Music is what Brennan and I do to keep ourselves busy. We study and play." Sloane shifted again, thinking about her favourites when it was a matter of escapism. "Robert Heinlein, I really like. Him and Paul Ohl. Love his Vikings in particular. He gave his novels an anthropologist's touch, you know." She shrugged. "Pretty interesting."
"Oh yeah?" Derick asked, shifting automatically to accommodate Sloane. "Do you play guitar as well as you draw?" he asked, kissing each of her knuckles on the hand in his before turning it over to kiss her palm. He'd never really heard her play; their time was spent mainly together, hanging out with each other and using the time wisely.
"As well as?" Sloane grinned, blushing ear to ear. "I don't know. I guess I manage to keep up with Brennan well enough." Her hand smoothed down Derick's t-shirt, palm flat on his chest, a caress through the cotton. "Mum played the piano. My need for and love of music comes from her. Maybe... maybe I should play for you some time. You can tell me if I'm worth shit..." Sloane used to play at The Outpost, but that was way back when, before her relationship with Seth soured. Hunter still dropped a hint every so often that she should get back on that rickety stage but knew better than to make an outright request. He sensed something was amiss between his employer and Sloane and left it at that.
"Derick?" Sloane asked finally, her eyes lifting up to his face, searching his. "Are... are we okay?" She needed to hear him say it, that he wouldn't forsake her for what she had told him, about her and Hayes, and the residual feelings she had for the man.
Shifting his chin to his hand, Derick smiled tenderly at her and reached up to run a finger over those pouty lips. "Yeah, we're okay, bashu." He kissed her stomach and shifted again. "I can't expect you to turn those feelings off like a light, Sloane. That wouldn't be reasonable of me." Smiling, he pulled on her lower lip and brought his hand down to her bare thigh to caress it. "I want whatever makes you happy, ay-mer," Derick said softly.
...