I couldn't believe it.
I couldn't believe that after all this time we were finally together, me lying in Malcolm's arms while I suckled our baby.
Every now and then I stole glances up at him. He was still, rapt, watching Charles' blissful expression with a look I'd never seen on his face before. Usually his expression is hard to read; even during our affair, I knew that I was only being allowed part way into the depths of a complex man. Now, for the first time, his soul stood in his eyes.
I wished that Okaasan could have seen it. Maybe then she would have believed in him, have understood why I wanted to be a part of his life – wanted our son to have him for a father.
But I knew that Em and Aunt Sherrie would not be gone much longer – and despite Matthew's tact in lingering in the kitchen, our time alone was limited. There was something important I needed to say, now, while those formidable defenses of his were down; and I had to get it absolutely right, because the wrong words now could do irreparable damage.
"Malcolm," I said softly, resting the tip of my fingers against his cheek-bone.
His gaze shortened to take me in. He didn't speak, but his eyebrows lifted a little in mute inquiry.
I took a deep breath. I'd rehearsed this so often – now I could only hope that I'd chosen words that could get through to him and be what he needed to hear.
"Malcolm, I know… I know you've been through a tough time. I know bad things must have happened to you and you're not ready to talk about them yet. I just want you to know I'm here for you, that I don't mind waiting till you are ready.
"I love you. I know it's not going to be easy, things have changed and … and we've got a lot of talking to do when the time's right. But I want this to work. I want us to be part of your life. If that's what you want."
There was a little silence, broken only by the sound of Charles' contented snuffling.
That was okay. I didn't want a facile answer. I wanted something he'd thought about, something he meant.
Finally he spoke, very low-voiced. "Hoshi, it's … it's going to take a while. But I want to talk, I want to tell you everything. I'm just … scared."
Malcolm Reed, the ship's resident stiff-upper-lipped Brit, admitting to being scared? I held my breath.
"If you want the truth, I'm bloody terrified," he went on, now hardly louder than a whisper. His free hand stroked tentatively over my hair. "Terrified of losing you, of losing everything. There's so much I'm still not sure of. Me, you … everything.
"I wanted to be so much, wanted to be … be a man perhaps you could be proud of. Now, I've … I've lost so much. I don't want to lose you and Charles as well."
He smiled sadly. "I sound like a complete selfish bastard, don't I? But I want to give as well, Hoshi. I want to make you happy you had my son. I want to give you all the help and support you need. And it's all come just when I'm … well, I'm not who I was when I stepped into that shuttlepod.
"The one thing that scares me – more than anything else – is that you may not … may not be able to feel the same way about me now. Because I the last thing I want on this earth is for you to be sorry you ever met me."
How it must hurt him to admit to all this. He'd always been so strong, the protector who made me feel safe when I was with him; now it was he who needed help. I caught his hand and kissed it gently. "I'm here for you, Malcolm. I'll be with you, I promise.
"We will make it through this."
Unease flickered in his face. "I'll try, Hoshi."
I wanted to banish it, wanted to reach him again. The words gave me the key. I pretended to punch him lightly in the nose, and made my voice portentous. "Do, or do not, Malcolm Reed. There is no 'try'."
Amusement lit his face. I knew how he loved those terrible old sci-fi movies; Trip had told me how the two of them would watch them for hours on end during their own private 'movie nights', laughing themselves into fits over the engine designs and the staged fights.
It wasn't possible for him to kiss me; he hadn't even tried to do so since we returned to Earth, but now he touched one fingertip to his lips and then to mine. "If anyone can save me, you can," he said softly.
It wasn't passion – I thought passion was beyond him right now, even if I'd been in any shape to accept it – but it was something to hold on to, something more than I'd had when I came here. Something that gave me faith that my superficially insane decision to risk everything on a journey to England hadn't been the wrong one.
We had a long, difficult road ahead of us. But at least I knew now that he wanted us to at least try to travel it together.