Pairing: John Pritkin/Cassandra Palmer
Rating: PG
Word Count: 887
Summary: Pritkin POV; a rest stop on their journey gives the war mage a moment to reflect. General knowledge of all published books, but no real spoilers.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Karen Chance; I'm not making any profit off this work. This is a piece of fiction, written merely for the sake of entertainment

Pritkin opened his eyes and tilted his head, examining the mass of blonde waves resting against his upper arm. Cassie still showed no signs of stirring. Pritkin allowed a small, irritated sigh to pass his lips. Still no reaction.

Rolling his eyes, he faced forward again, pondering the woman at his side. In addition to the daily physical regimen he had imposed on her, she had been pushing herself hard with testing the limits of her shifting ability. Apparently she had exhausted herself. What should have been a normal jump had ended up stranding them nearly 200 years in the past, deep underground beneath an old English cathedral somewhere outside London. This had been their fourth stop of the day; as soon as they had arrived, Cassie had staggered, and Pritkin had barely managed to catch her before she hit the damp stones. One look at her pinched, white lips, and he had called for a rest stop.

Of course, he hadn't expected it to take this long. Nearly two hours had gone by, and she had gradually shifted her sleeping form further and further into his personal space. Her cheek pressed up against his bicep, her opposite hand clutched the hem of his coat, and her knees now rested across his upper thigh closest to her. Pritkin knew if he leaned over enough to peer into her sleeping face, he would see dark blonde lashes brushing against rounded cheeks, and her lips, hopefully pink once again, would be slightly parted as she breathed. Cassie tended to look just a bit like an angel as she slept.

Pritkin knew this because he had watched his Pythia sleep on more than one occasion, and it was becoming a habit difficult to break himself out of. Now, with her practically in his lap, it was a struggle to maintain his gaze forward and not do something ridiculous like gather her closer to his chest or stare down at her like a besotted fool. He was beginning to run out of distracting scenarios in which he killed Mircea and all the other vampires in her life that took up her time.

Just then, Cassie shifted and murmured something. Stretching, she yawned and looked up. Her wide blue eyes met his, and he was relieved to see that some of the tension that had been around them earlier had been slept away.

"Oh. Hey. How long was I out?" she asked, scrubbing at her eyes and pulling away.

Pritkin missed her warmth immediatly and for the hundreth time that day, had to remind himself that she was not his.

"Nearly 2 hours," he replied. Bitterness and frustration made his voice curt, which he hadn't intended. Cassie looked sheepish, and he felt a moment of regret.

"Do you feel more rested?" he asked, gentling his tone. He got to his feet, and held out a hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her to her feet. No wobble at all, he noted with approval.

"Yeah, much. Sorry about that."

"We should get back. Can you manage?"

Cassie nodded. "I think so."

Pritkin eyed her suspiciously. "You think so?"

The blonde brushed some hair out of her face and avoided his eyes. "My head's still a little fuzzy. But it's all right. I'm good. Let's go." Before he could say anything, she had grabbed his hand, and Pritkin felt that familiar tug in his gut signaling a movement through time and space. When they landed a moment later, it was not in their rooms at Dante's but in the middle of a clearing, on the outskirts of a ring of people dressed in black robes, chanting around a roaring bonfire.

"Damn it," Cassie muttered, falling against his side as Pritkin whipped out a gun and brought his shields up to cover both of them. The ominously dressed people in front of them broke off chanting and started shouting, pointing and waving in their direction.

"We are not home," Pritkin informed Cassie, in a tone that clearly said that there would be more to this conversation later, as soon as they survived their current situation. Several brightly colored spells sizzled through the air and burst into sparks against Pritkin's shields, and he began shoving Cassie towards the line of trees a few feet away while casting some of his own spells in retaliation. He kept his body squarely between Cassie's and the robed figures, shielding the bright beacon of Cassie's blonde hair from the magic users' sight. They were dark mages, but nothing he couldn't handle as soon as he knew Cassie was under some decent cover. She may not have been his to keep, but she was his to protect, and he would do so with every ounce of his being.

Even if it was mostly her fault that got them both in such ridiculous situations to begin with.