Watching
Chapter One:
On the first night neither of them will fall asleep.
It's not 'sleeping together' in the truest sense of the word. On the other hand you could say it's sleeping in the most true sense of the word.
Marcus wonders if those two statements make any sense at all.
Whatever the case they're certainly not doing what everyone suspects.
It's been over nearly a month since he was 'resurrected'. Susan's admitted the nightmares aren't going away. Of course he asked if a teddy bear would help and things kind of lead of from there.
This is why they've now got two bodies crammed into a single bed. Both refusing point blank to fall asleep.
He has no idea how this stupid competition began but it doesn't look like its going to end anytime soon.
Susan's lying opposite him – if three centimetres between their faces can count as 'opposite'. One of his hands is a firm presence against her back and the other pressed to her hair. Both stroke methodically – see if that will get her to drop of.
Well there are no rules in this game.
Susan seems to have taken the teddy bear offer literally. She's got her arms clasped around his neck in a metal grip. Her nails dig into the skin. Perhaps she's trying a different tact – to scare him to unconsciousness.
Or maybe she just doesn't want to let go anymore than he does.
His suspicion hardens to certainty as she shifts her willowy body closer to his.
"It's cold." Is the explanation to his enquiring look.
He considers offering to turn the heat up and then pulls her closer, head in the crook of his neck. "Mmm, maybe you're right."
He'd never have penned Susan Ivanova as a night gown type – more like military pyjama's but here she is, clad in black silk, long legs bare. He's certainly hasn't got any complaints but pauses before uttering a compliment.
Maybe best to wait until she's actually unconscious. Don't want to scare her off.
In the end Marcus never knows who won the challenge but there's a factor she hasn't considered: the awakening.
Because one thing he got right is that Susan Ivanova is not a morning person.
A testament of growing up on a mining colony his sleeping patterns are about as regular as Lithiop's moons: waking up before dawn is hardly unusual.
His eyes snap open, gazing at the shadowy ceiling high above him. The Minbarii are fond of the cathedral look; apparently a closed in room entitles a closed in mind. Something along those lines.
Marcus rolls his eyes at the thought and yawns before propping himself up on one elbow, a smile growing as he studies the woman next to him.
She's rolled over in the night so her back's turned, shoulder's hunched, arms wrapped around herself.
He can recognise a classic defensive manoeuvre and wonders how much she must have practiced to bee on guard even in her sleep.
Marcus sighs and settles deeper into position as his eyes adjust to the dark.
This is why he was so determined to win; just to be able to watch her uninterrupted.
He knows of the Minbarii tradition that the betrothed female must watch her chosen male for three nights as he sleeps.
This isn't exactly the same; he's the male for one thing and no doubt Susan would have him dragged out by his beard if he proposed watching her for three nights long but he'll take what he can get.
He starts with only his eyes at first:
His gaze traces her long hair spread across the pillow like strands of pale flame; he's always scoffed at the theory that red heads mean fiery tempers but for her it certainly rings true.
The locks streaked with grey: Age slowly disintegrating looks but to him it only makes her more beautiful.
Beauty is not something for the infant to acquire. A fashion to be earned and held only in youth and lost year by year.
True beauty comes naturally and remains until the day of death and after. And she has it. Neither wrinkles nor worn skin can change that.
It's cliché to say 'beauty is on the inside' but sometimes one cannot find word on their own powerful enough to convey the glory of reality and must revert to quoting.
This is one of those times.
Marcus would be willing to bet even the Minbarii poets and deceased G'Kar would struggle to express what he's seeing now.
If he's being honest he does mind the grey hairs a little: because he knows there are too many for one so young.
Few people know Susan's real age and if he told them they'd probably commit him to med lab for examination. They'd never believe someone of fifty one could have gained such position and strength in so short a time. She'd driven herself too hard, endured too much pressure, upheld too much responsibility.
There are times when he would happily cut each glint of silver away, smooth out the wrinkles just to give her back those carefree years lost.
Finally surrendering to temptation Marcus reaches out to brush her cheek with the back of his hand.
The touch is so soft he can barely feel her cheekbones under the pressure and she doesn't even flinch.
Getting bolder he traces her profile with the tip of his finger. Starting at her forehead, down the angular nose, very lightly over moist lips and under the chin.
Tickling isn't a good idea so he continues up her jawbone, brushing away locks of hair to caress surprisingly small ears.
Everything hidden about Susan is a surprise. In forcing her strongest elements on show; everything soft, everything vulnerable, everything gentle is hidden behind the curtain.
Creating a whole other persona just waiting to be revealed.
Waiting for someone else to unmask.
And yes, he is arrogant enough to think that person might be him.
He leans forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. The indelible seal.
Woman may not be property but he at least wants a mark, claim a fraction of her as his.
As though she senses his thoughts, Susan rolls back over, burrowing into his chest. He grins smugly and wraps his arms around her waist. Still lost in the realm poised between conscious and unconscious her eyes slide open, and gaze at him hazily.
"You'd better not be still awake."
"Been here all night long."
She scowls, "Idiot." A punch in the shoulder. Even half asleep the abuse doesn't stop.
"But what the hell," she sighs sleepily, squirming into position again. "I give up. You win."
Within seconds her eyes are closed though a hand laces around his bony wrist.
Marcus chuckles, planting one final kiss on her lips.
Maybe there's hope he'll be able to do this again after all.
