There was bound to be one of these eventually
Deryn tried to leave before he woke up. It was a low blow, but she could not stay. He might have a heart attack if he thought she was more than just…well… being drunk. Her head hurt, but the pain was not enough to drown out last night. The drinking, the staggering about, the kiss, the discovery, barking spiders, he knew her secret now, and of course what happened after that. Perhaps if she left and denied the whole thing he might think it was a dream. She hurriedly put her clothes back on and tried to be quiet about it. This did not work.
She heard rustling as Newkirk slowly lifted himself from the floor. Looking about at his wrecked cabin, he began to mutter to himself. He was confused when he found himself naked, more confused when he saw her there, also naked. Well, naked except for a shirt that just barely covered the parts of her body she would rather not expose.
"Sharp?" Newkirk asked, then realization dawned on his face. "Barking spiders Dylan!"
Looking desperately around for her pants, she did not answer. Getting the hell out of there was her main priority. Unfortunately, Newkirk did not share this priority. He grabbed her arm and began to demand an explanation. Looking down, he remembered that he was wearing nothing and she was a she.
"Turn around," he demanded, as he too searched for his pants, "And don't leave."
Deryn stayed glued to her spot by the door. Good luck walking down the hall in only a slightly long shirt.
"I said turn around!" he shouted.
Deryn averted her eyes, knowing, as he did, that she had already seen all of him, and he all of her. Still, it helped to know that they were not ready to repeat last nights actions.
"Explain!" He barked at her, she heard the buckle of his belt.
"Well for one I'm not exactly a boy-"
"I can see that," he interrupted.
"And for two it looks like we…er…" Deryn tried to find the most professional word to describe the situation.
"I can see that too," He said, then added, "These don't feel right…"
Deryn turned around and recognized her special tailored pants.
"Those are mine bun-rag," she said, to his horror.
"Oh god I'm wearing girl's pants!" He exclaimed.
He demanded she turn around again and handed them to her. She slipped them on, and buttoned up her shirt. She reached for the door handle.
"Don't leave!" He said, half furious, half panicked.
As much as she wanted to, Deryn did not run back to her own cabin. There wasn't much left to explain. Dylan Sharp was dead. Officially. Deryn had screwed up about as much as one could screw up. Once he was also dressed, he faced her.
"Alright. For one, you are still… a girl right?" Newkirk asked nervously.
Deryn rolled her eyes, "Yes you ninny."
"And we…?"
"Aye."
Newkirk sat down.
"Now what?" He said with his head in his hands.
"That's up to you," Deryn said as calmly as she could.
His head shot up.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well," She said, dead terrified, "You either tell the captain or…"
She took a moment to look at him pleadingly.
"Keep quiet."
Newkirk looked at her as if she were some sort of freak, which she probably was.
"Are we?"
"No." She answered. Thank god that at least was obvious.
"I am completely in your control though," Deryn said through gritted teeth, "The next move is yours."
Getting up he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her. It might have meant something to another girl, but not to Deryn.
Newkirk pulled away.
"Nothing, you?" he asked.
"Same." She said.
"Then I wont tell. We can just forget about this," He said, "But if it gets out that you and me… ya know…I wont stand by you. I can't be a homosexual. You know what they do to homosexuals. I'll have to reveal you."
Deryn nodded. It was fair. Even the closest of friends would have had the same terms.
With that, he let her out. Running to her room, Deryn thought about what had happened. She had gotten off easy. Too easy. Something would happen. It was bound to.
Weeks later. Something did happen. Deryn was going about her daily basis, when suddenly she needed to lay down. Now. She wouldn't call it fainting per say, more, crumpling to the floor in the manliest way possible. Alek, who had followed her to the rookery made sure that she made it safely back to her cabin. There she proceeded to suffer from air sickness.
Barking mess this was.
