Eleven

I hate it. I just frigging hate it. It's been four days since the incident on the cliffs, and I think I'm slowly going insane. For one, there's Ced. Ever since that fight we had in the dinner room, he's either avoiding me like the Plague or – if it's not possible to get around seeing me – always reminding me of what he thinks about me. Which has even worsened since that fight.

Then there's Yasha. She's always been a little frail, a little more sensitive than the rest of us, but ever since I first came here her whole constitution has been deteriorating rapidly. She looks worse than any of us – myself included – and although she tries to hide it I know that she's either crying herself to sleep or not getting any sleep at all. She's studying music at the local college, and she's very talented with the vioflute, and always very eager to practice. But ever since I came here, I never heard or saw her playing it. Something's seriously wrong if Yasha is neglecting her music like that. I just wish I knew what and how to make it right again.

And of course, there's still Xanas. Ever since that talk on the cliff… he's been different. More distanced, but not in an unfriendly way. Just keeping as much corporeal distance between us as possible. I know I should be happy that he got the hint so fast, but I just… I miss it. Gods, I must be the girliest girl in the whole universe. First I slam the door right in his face, and now I resent him for rightfully staying away?

Groaning, I scamper out of my bed. I'm not going to get any sleep anyway, so no point in keeping on tossing and turning around. Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I enter the balcony. It's gotten colder, and you can feel the summer fading now. I close my eyes. The gentle sound of the waves rolling against the shore is the only thing I hear, and it's slowly starting to calm me down.

Until I hear something completely different. Sheets rustling. A person moaning. Huh? I strain to hear better, and there it's again. What is it with me and hearing moaning people? There, again. Seems to come from somewhere beside me… Xanas's room, obviously.

Yes, I know this is not my business. Yes, I know I shouldn't enter other people's rooms, most of all not when they are sleeping. But I still do, in this case. Straining not to make a sound, I step into the room. The moonlight from outside shines on the bed, partially lighting it. As I already heard, he's tossing and turning and very obviously not dreaming well. Slowly I walk up to the bed and stand before it, a little lost. Okay, one-million-credits-question: Wake him or let him sleep?

He turns around, making me almost jump because for a moment it looked like he's awake. I know it would be best if I just leave, but I can't. Against better judgment, I sit down and curl up in one of the chairs at the window which are facing the bed.

It occurs to me I never saw him sleep before. Whenever I wasn't sleeping in camp, I either stayed on my cot or – if I got lucky and the tent watch was asleep as well – walked out of the tent to stare at the sky. On the ship, I fell asleep before him. And here it were separated rooms. They say that if you wanted to see a person when they were most vulnerable you should watch them sleep.

Which is probably right in his case. I always experienced him as a guy who knew an answer to everything, always stayed calm – okay, apart from those weird bouts of misplaced chivalry he gets time and again – and was able to give support. A strong guy, even if he sometimes thinks he's got to prove something to us. And now he's lying here, having nightmares just like me – no, make that worse, from the sound and look of it – and I don't know what to do.

It's tempting to wake him up, hold him like he held me, thereby end his torments – more than one, actually – but it would mean I don't stick to my word, my principles. I guess I would somehow hurt him again.

He makes a particularly hard turn, jerking me from my reverie. Biting my lip I think back at how he woke me on the ship and held me without wanting anything in return. That actually was one of the few times in the last months I had a few hours of solid and uninterrupted sleep. I guess I owe him for that. As well. Dammit.

Suddenly I hear him cry out and see him jerking up, opening his eyes and staring around wildly. Okay, that answered the one-million-credit-question. No way I can get out of this room unnoticed now. Standing up I move over to his bed, tentatively sitting down at the edge. He's obviously still half asleep, because he jerks into my direction, making a defensive move. I catch his sloppily aimed fist and gently put it down on the bed.

"It's me, Xanas. Only me."

He blinks. "Jenna?"

"Yeah, just me. Your ordinary screw-up soldier." I attempt a half-grin.

"What are you doing in here?" Okay, I should have known he'd ask that. After all, he is a bright guy.

"I… uh… just came by your room… and uh… heard something…" That didn't sound convincing even to myself. I just hope, he's still too sleepy to fully understand it.

"You… heard me?" Mh. Maybe not so sleepy at all.

"Yeah. I just came in to check on you. And then you were suddenly awake. Everything alright?" I just bet he'll now do the same I did. Deny anything bad happened.

"It's… nothing. Really." See?

"Oh come on. Weren't you the one talking about trust to me? That didn't look like nothing to me." He runs his hands over his face and through his hair. Making himself look irresistible. Do men know that sleep-tousled hair and bedroom eyes mostly serve to up-grade their sexyness?

"Using my own knife to stab me in the back, huh?" A sloppy grin appears. I instantly want to jump at him and kiss him senseless. Which demon rode me when I decided to get in here in the middle of the night andfrigging watch him sleep? And which demon rode me when I decided against whatever we could have had? Whoever said this had to be of the serious variety here? After all, all he could be looking for was someone to relieve some tension. Get some action beside the battlefield. Some R&R of the horizontal variety. Godsdammit, what am I thinking here?

"That was a very nasty way to put it, Private. Just practicing what you taught me. Now… what was it?" He falls back on the bed, sighing a little.

"You're a major pain in the neck, Lieutenant-to-be. But a cute one, so I'll tell you." A cute one? What the fuck? I feel a tug at my pajamas shirt. "Hey, you still interested or what?"

Oh, he wants me to lie down with him. Great. But I maneuvered myself into this, now I have to go through with it. Suppressing a sigh, I lie down beside him, carefully maintaining a minimum of distance. "Sure. Tell me."

He adjusts his position a little, and now we're lying side by side, with his right arm directly over my head. Whatever happened to "keeping a corporeal distance", mister? "It's… about the same things you see. Things from the war, the fights. People dying. Blood. Screams. The usual." He stops, but in his whole kind of stopping you can feel that it's not all. That there's still something else. Something he doesn't want to tell right away.

Carefully, I get a little closer. I turn my head to his and can see his profile. His eyes are closed, but I can tell that he's not asleep but trying to decide whether he should tell me more or not. "There's more to it, right?"

His left hand moves to his face and he rubs his eyes. After what seems an eternity, he says: "Yes. It's something… recurring. I'm… we are sitting in that box again. The whole gang, with those idiots trying to verbally knock the stuffing out of you. Right up to the point where the engine explodes. And then…" Whatever comes next, it's totally throwing him off-balance, even if he tries not to let it show. The arm over my head moves nervously, and he needs several attempts at continuing.

Not being able to see him suffer like that, I reach up and take his hand, drawing the arm under my head and gently squeezing the nervously moving hand. Very softly, I ask: "What then?"

Disentangling his hand from mine and then grabbing it himself, he answers: "I'm not fast enough to push you out. I see you getting killed right in front of me. Very plastic. Like it happened just like this. Completely with screaming and smelling the burning skin and everything. And just when it's my turn to die I always wake up. And I'm always terrified. Not at myself dying, but because… of you. Now, isn't that strange? Xanas the pussy not being afraid of his own death." A laugh escaped his throat, but it's without humor and full of bitterness.

For a while, neither of us says anything. That's a heavy blow. I've got to be honest. I always thought he'd be looking for some adventure with me. A little fun. Someone to flirt with or fool around. A friend of some sorts. And maybe some… horizontal action. But that sounds a lot like… he has deep feelings, maybe more than friendship. I suddenly remember when I asked my ex about what he was most afraid of, and that he answered almost in an instant: "Losing the brand new speeder I just bought." Obviously, there's at least one good reason we're not a couple anymore.

But now having someone admitting that what they are most afraid of is losing you… I don't really know if I can take it after all those blows from the last weeks. So it's no wonder I answer a little lamely: "You're not a pussy, Xan. You should know that." Way to go, Melara. Just make this even more embarrassing for the poor guy, why don't you?

"That's not what the people at the camp say, Lieutenant-to-be Cutie." He's trying to cover up his embarrassment and disappointment by teasing me. And failing gloriously. But I decide to play along. After all, we're just one couple of dysfunctional screw-ups, aren't we?

"And you listen to them? Maybe you are a pussy then." For a moment, I think he's going to tickle me again, but he settles with drawing me towards him a little roughly and ruffling my hair.

"Say that again, and I'll give your brother the beating-up of his life the next time he so much as opens his mouth in your vicinity." Oh. Misplaced chivalry. That's something I can deal with. Great.

"You won't dare to anyway. Pussy. Pussypussypussy." He laughs, this time a surprisingly genuine laugh. The tension has eased, and we're just two friends again. Talking about this and that and nothing in particular, until both of us drift off to sleep eventually.

It's at the crack of dawn when I wake up. Lying on my right side, I feel an arm draped loosely over my hips and the presence of a body behind me. Seems that somehow somewhere we managed to turn around so that we ended up like we were a couple being totally used to sleeping together. Heaving a silent sigh, I gently pick up his arm and very, very carefully get out of bed. I'm sorry that I'll be gone when you wake up, but there are a lot of things that still need to be taken care of. With one last glance at his peacefully sleeping form I make my way out of the room.

A/N: Errr... yes.Apparently I did not abandon this story (in fact there's already the next Jenna-story done). So... give me some reviews?