Hey, it's been a while! this chapter was ready, it just needed a little editing. Another non-life-threatening chapter that will make you long for summer and then…
So Koba, come stai? Parla italiano oggi?
Yes, he called her 'ma femme'. People in the suburbs can use it to mean 'girlfriend' in a demeaning way, but in this case, we know how playful Kristan can get. I had not seen the parallel with his Hawk, it is a lovely image.
Tobi, I hope this story agrees with you better than the others. I'm a little stuck on my Tristan getting back to the present so I decided to work on this one instead. But I'll manage, eventually
Saturday was spent leisurely on the seaside, in la Grande Motte. A fashionable setting, for sure; Frances was quite addicted to the sea or any pool of water where she could bathe. The temperature was not relevant; she'd jump in anytime, regardless of the weather. Fortunately, south of France allowed them to stroll leisurely along the beaches, and even indulge in a little shopping after a quick lunch of fresh fish without freezing their asses off. Today was a rather mild summer day, only thirty-three degrees – Celsius – and a nice sea breeze. Enough for Kristan to start spontaneous combustion; with his high metabolism and Danish roots, he suffered from the heat rather badly. Frances, on the other hand, didn't seem to care much. She'd handle forty-five degrees without battling an eyelash, a present from her Camel like father who could go biking in canicular temperatures.
As it was, the young woman had dragged her man – she couldn't call him boyfriend, too childish – into a French shop, 'Blanc du nil', who sold exclusively white linen and cotton clothes. Kristan didn't wear much white, but the smile on Frances' face as he exited the fitting room with a plain immaculate tunic was worth it.
— "You look … dashing, honey. White suits you, it brings out your eyes"
'And your inner light', she thought without voicing it. A little swipe of her credit card later, and his former shirt discarded in the paper bag – she was sneaky like that – Frances dragged Kristan along the port in hopes to make a stop at the Häagen Dazs stand before soaking into the sea. His fingers gently encased into hers, his Borsalino – another present bought from the last milliner of Montpellier – protecting his head from the scorching sun, Kristan looked every bit the handsome secret spy women swooned over. And for sure, many eyes turned their way as they strolled along the marina, feminine, for most. Assessing his posture, his proud bearing and handsome features, the catlike grace of his moves, the power of his wide shoulders. Even relaxed, Kristan was, and would always be, a scout. Perceptive, and ready to take on whatever the world threw at him.
Some looks even lingered on her, sneering at her presence, trying to evaluate his attachment to a woman so outrageously lucky, even though they couldn't call her plain. Too bad. None of those peekers would ever understand the roots of their connexion, a link forged across two lives, and fifteen hundred years of death. For who could fathom such madness? Yet there they were, strolling like a normal couple, passing tourist shops and restaurants. Two people on a normal day. But something was on his mind; Frances could tell by the slight tightening of his fingers, the tense angle of his jaw. One glance was all it took for him to stop in his tracks, and search her face intently.
— "What is it, elskede?"
— "I was going to ask you the same thing. You seem tense"
His hand came to rest upon her upper arm, his grey eyes darting around discreetly.
— "People are looking at us."
Frances shrugged.
— "Well. Yes. At you, mainly. It is new for you?"
— "I usually don't gather that much attention on my own. Are you in danger, Frances? Anything you didn't tell me?"
The young lady frowned at that, a little spooked that he would suggest it. But she couldn't blame him; she had so many secrets that Nick Fury could probably borrow some. None that were left unsaid, though. Well, none but one; the man – er, vampire – who appointed her Keeper of Time in the first place … but she had not truthfully had the time to discuss it. And it wasn't so relevant at the moment; Kristan knew, now, all the important facts of her life.
— "Kristan. I promised you there would be no secrets between us, and I intend to keep my promise."
His jaw unclenched slightly, but not as much as she would have loved to. Caressing his upper arm under the tunic, she sent him a reassuring look.
— "You are my companion now. The man who shares my life. THE man, MY man."
His countenance relaxed at that, and she addressed him a beaming smile before putting the boot it.
— "I know I am exclusive, and can be difficult. But there will be nor hidden truth nor deception coming from me. I can't ensure you that you know everything there is to know as of yet; there is still much to share. But I will not lie to you, especially if there is danger. It concerns us both now, all right?"
A sigh passed his lips and his shoulders sagged, his hand now tugging at hers to embrace her.
— "I know, elskede. Forgive me for doubting you," he said, his cheek resting upon her head.
— "I understand. I've thrown so much at you in such a little time, I'm wondering how you could accept it all so easily."
A tiny smile graced his lips as he bent to kiss her cheek just below the base of her ear.
— "I haven't worked it out yet. Some of it is just too crazy."
His sensual voice caused Frances to shiver, and she retaliated at once, circling his broad back to pull him closer.
— "As for the attention we gather, I think they have to do with your tremendous good looks. The women are drooling, that is all"
Kristan snorted at that, pulling his height on her in an attempt to scowl.
— "Do not tease, Frances.", he admonished, his accent thicker because of his nervousness.
— "I don't," she deadpanned.
This time, Kristan gazed into her eyes seriously. His greys were marred with green under the scorching heat, hiding a gleam of uncertainty.
— "Do you really think me handsome?"
Frances almost spluttered such was her shock.
— "Are you for real? ? Have you seen your reflection in a mirror recently? Have you not seen how women look at you in general? You're a walking fantasy, Kristan."
— "Frances," he ground out, thinking she was making fun of him.
His arms tightened around her form, and Frances moulded into him, caressing his lips gently before meeting his gaze squarely. What she saw – uncertainty, fear, longing – did not sit well with her.
— "All right. This is very, very serious. Hear me out, please"
Kristan's faint eyebrow lifted slightly, but he kept his mouth wisely shut.
— "I have to plead my case properly, since you seem rather incredulous."
— "I am," he said with conviction.
Straightening, Frances positioned herself to be shielded by the brim of his hat, so close that he could see the sparks of gold in her warm chocolate eyes and the freckles upon her tiny nose.
— "Kristan. You are, sincerely, honestly, the most handsome man of my acquaintance. Everything about you is just attractive. And when you smile, you outshine the sun"
Kristan's breath shortened at that, and a blush crept to his cheeks as he avoided her gaze altogether. His ex-wife found him rather handsome, for sure; she had married him after all. But in general, his very sharp features were not described as such. Exotic, maybe, magnetic just as well. But to hear those words in her mouth, the woman he considered incredibly beautiful, it made him bashful.
— "I don't like my smile," he breathed out. "My teeth are crooked, there, see?"
Caressing the pinkish skin tenderly, Frances pulled his eyes back to hers. She was well aware that his canines pointed out when he smiled, it gave him an almost boyish look that she loved. The wolf of the fifth century, different and yet the same. Hers now.
— "You're so shy, Kristan, you don't even see the looks. You usually hide under this stern face and spurn people away. But I see through it, and honestly, I love it, so I can keep you to myself. But when we are together, you don't hide so much anymore, and the women, they take a look at the real you, and they can't help but be blinded."
It was more than he could take, and Kristan buried his head on the crook of her neck, his face ablaze from the compliment she'd just rained upon him.
— "Stop now, woman, I'll just die of embarrassment."
But she wouldn't be deterred. Her opinion was long overdue; she should have told him how proud she was to wander around attached to his arm like a lady of old.
— "Don't. You deserve all the admirative looks you can get. And much more, but no one will ever know how good you look without your clothes on, or how efficient this attractive body of yours is, or even how your heart is the best I have ever encountered."
A whimper interrupted her rant, and Frances embraced him fully against her.
— "You are charming, Kristan. And your shyness is so cute. Makes you even more lovable."
Those little words didn't go unnoticed, and he suddenly lifted his head to gaze down at her. Frances took a deep breath; it was now or never.
— "I love you, Kristan. I love you. I don't know why I as so afraid to say so, but I love you, heart, body and soul."
His eyes were shining underneath the shadow of his borsalino, grey hues so deep that her breath caught.
— "You have lost every one you have loved before Frances, including me," he murmured, his silky voice sending shivers down her spine. "You don't have to fear anymore, I am yours. And I will follow you to hell and back."
A tear escaped her eyes, the extent of his love so overwhelming that her arms trembled against his. To hell and back. The use of her expression wasn't lost on her, and she smiled, her heart soaring in delight at this incredible turn of events. She was so happy! A searing kiss was her response, and if his passion didn't deter the envious looks sent their way, then she didn't know what would!
Frances was humming, her skin basking in the afternoon sun, her fingers massaging Kristan's scalp. He relished in her gentle touch, the tiny waves of the Mediterranean Sea lulling him to sleep along with her voice. Frances sang all the time, her nearly eidetic memory causing her to remember anything she heard or read. Like the number Pi with 53 digits after the coma that she learnt as a child, a stupid challenge which, in turn, have proved useful in the Avalon Quest with her stargate team. Or the lyrics of a thousand different songs. French, English, Italian, Spanish, Latin… Gaelic. Her mind could take whatever was thrown in her way, and she would sing. He remembered how her voice had enchanted his fellow knights; he felt privileged to be by her side, now, the only recipient of her lullabies.
Her fingers caressed his skin, running along his hair, his jaw, massaging the tensions while the sun warmed them after a bath. Despite the crowd, they were but two lovers dancing around each other in the water. He, the knight, standing tall and proud and she, the sea spirit revolving around him. The siren that undulated in the warm water of the Mediterranean Sea as if she'd been born in its depths. As she set foot into the waves, Frances shed her worries and simply communiated with her element. Like a fish claiming its heritage – she was a Pisces after all. Those moments of blissful oblivion were scarce in their crazy life, but it gave them strength.
— "It is enjoyable?" came her uncertain voice.
— "Very"
Just a little word that didn't come close to describe how wonderful her caress made him feel. It was so intimate, so loving, that he wondered why he'd ever felt the need to hear those fated words. I love you. Still, they were sealed in his mind like a Hellenic carving. Three thousand years from here, when the last remains of the Parthenon had crushed into the earth, he'd remember them all the same.
— "I have no idea what I am doing," she eventually said. "But your hair is so soft, it is poetry."
Kristan smiled. Frances had no qualms about telling him how pleasing his body was. He, for one, was rather one of actions rather than words. But he'd evolved – a bit – and thrived now on telling her how beautiful she was. His fiery lady. Beautiful, tender, gentle, subtle and loving… Deadly as well, obstinate, stubborn as a mule, courageous and resourceful. Infuriating, sometimes. He wondered if they would travel together, to another world of the past. Would they see the knights again as she seemed to believe? For now, though, she needed another type of journey. This awful job was cutting her wings, ruining her self-confidence and killing her bravery. If those people didn't respect her for the great woman she was, it needed to stop.
— "Let us go, Elskede"
— "Want to go home, honey?"
The nickname had surprised him, at first; he'd never been quite associated with something sweet. People frowned upon his gruffness, the curtness of his answers or his aloof expression. He knew how impressive he seemed when he stood straight, all fangs exposed. No other than Frances had uncovered his hopeless romanticism before her; his ex-wife was the perfect Scandinavian woman. Tough, forward, and not in need or romantic – cheesy – attention. Yet, Frances has seen it at once, and embraced his tenderness with gentle care. Kristan propped on an elbow, digging in the scalding sand and gave her an intense look.
— "I have no home, here Frances."
Her eyes twinkled slightly in mischief.
— "Where is home, Kristan?"
The young woman bore holes into him, remembering this discussion, from long ago, held with his counterpart.
— "Home is where the heart is," he answered confidently, flinging her words right back. "Mine is yours. So in this life, at least, I know where home is."
Her eyes misted over slightly and Kristan grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her palm.
— "This being said. I'm fed up with this place. I came here to find you, although I didn't know it at the time."
— "As I did. And this climate doesn't agree with me either."
Kristan nodded, sparing a glance at the locals, fashion victims and fancy sunglasses, showing off on the beach. Everything was so artificial here, even the sea was tamed. No wonder Frances felt out of place.
— "We don't belong here"
A wide gesture of his hand was enough for her to understand. The scorching heat, the absence of vegetation, the loud and disorganised people of the south. Nothing appealing to them, except for the seaside. Frances was as Nordic as he was. They would find another Ocean to settle by.
— "I'm in the mood for a long, long trip."
— "Where to?"
— "North. Scandinavia, Mongolia. I'd like to visit the remains of Sarmatia. I also want you to show me the place you've lived in and the wall of Hadrian as well. What do you think?"
Frances cocked her head aside, marvelling that Kristan would be so talkative now. His sentences were long, his responses detailed, more than mere grunts. What he suggested, though, caught her off guard.
— "You mean … a road trip?"
Her gaze was hopeful, laced with disbelief. This was a life-changing decision.
— "Yes. Let us roam the world, then we'll settle somewhere, and when the Keeper of Time is called again, I will be by your side.'
The young woman seemed to ponder his proposal, calculating, probably, if she could afford it. And what about Stargate Command? Bah, they would find her anywhere on earth if they needed, and they had, so far, no news from Daniel's trip to Atlantis. It was as good a time as any other. Her smile broadened, and she grabbed Kristan's shoulder enthusiastically, sending golden sand flying over.
— "I think I have enough money aside, from my time in Norway, to sustain us for a while."
Kristan nodded.
— "Until the SGC had need of us, or the world ends. So have I. I don't spend much, as you know. Think your blue candy will be up for the challenge?"
Frances lifted her eyebrow in her signature expression.
— "Absolutely"
— "So let's shed your job, I'll quit mine. Let us be free"
Freedom was, unfortunately, not so easily gained. Two days later found Frances sitting at her desk. The hour was growing late, her office mates had gone home. Another lightning shot through the sky and thunder rumbled across the countryside that laid behind the office. The gentle noise of falling rain soothing her bubbling mind; she needed to finish that damn test before she went home to her man. There was no one wandering around on the hill as the sky poured down everything it has stocked for so long. As the phone rang, Frances turned around from her contemplation and picked up the handset.
— "Hello, Frances here, how can I help you?" she asked, cautious as ever when answering an encrypted call.
— "Hey, hi. It's Daniel. Sorry I couldn't call earlier, I just came back from uh … my vacation island, you know? There one that disappeared from the maps."
Vacation island. Atlantis. Frances smiled, not totally surprised from his rambling, but totally at loss regarding the reason of his excuses. It was a nice surprise to hear him on the phone, you never knew what to expect with unknown numbers.
— "Hey Daniel. It's good to hear from you…"
— "Uh … yes…"
— "So what news?" she asked
He paused, apparently considering his next words for a second. There was a little bit of unease when his rambling rang through the handset:
— "Well you know, the situation here is … not ideal. But I have found some valuable info, we just need to run it through MALPs first."
Frances sighed in relief. Of course, he couldn't possibly tell her on the phone he had found the planets they were hunting down to find Merlin's weapons. Castiana and Sahal were still missing. But it sounded promising.
— "Oh. Did you find them?"
— "Yes. The two remaining ones, I have the coordinates from our favourite fairy"
The fairy; Morgan le Fay, otherly known as Ganos lal. Frances nearly sagged on her office chair, relieved by this piece of news. She had not realised how coiled her mind had been, fear running on the background since their last mission. Daniel's findings might very well be the key to defeat the Ori and prevent them from invading earth.
— "Great, now we're getting somewhere."
— " … and I read your email about your job as well and…"
Damn. As if her job issues held some importance in this war! How she regretted sending that mail in a fit of anger.
— "Ohhhh, no. I feel stupid now. It's not important, you know, I was just riled up I'm sorry I bothered you in the first place. You just have a knack for helping me sort out my thoughts."
— "Well, yes, of course, I hope your knight has been able to help in the meantime."
— "Yes. He's been…"
Frances paused for a second, considering how Kristan had helped her clear this mess out. Thanks to his insight, she had just written her letter of resignation and hoped to ditch away before her boss fell on her back. But none of it was important enough in the face of the Ori invasion. Daniel, though, refused to relent and questioned her about her annual review. Perhaps he needed it, to chill out from the stress of the Ori invasion.
— "He's been perfect, my knight."
After all, those issues she had at work were not big enough to make a fuss out of it, but the part of truth in her boss' insults had caught her off guard. What if they were right? How different was she from what she hoped she was? How tough had she become during those past years? What they thought about her, that she had changed people in a bad way, that she was rude and manipulative, unsettled her.
— "You know Daniel, it's not as important as our little crisis there so I don't want to keep you on the line while I'm complaining about useless things."
— "Frances"
She knew this tone; a lecture was coming.
— "I'm the one calling and I got at least a litre of black coffee on my desk right now, I got all the time of the world to get some proper news… And I'm too tired for research. I need a normal conversation for once in my life. Have you recently acuiqred a puppy ?"
Frances marked a pause, her eyebrows climbing upon her forehead.
— "Er, no"
— "Then let's talk about your job"
A chuckle escaped her as she reclined in her seat.
— "Thanks, that's great to have you"
Then she told him everything, furnishing a detailed report of her summer review. Daniel's conclusions, mainly, were less acidic than Kristan's but ran along the same lines. From what he knew about the people there, they just feared her influence. She'd shaken people out of their shell, pushing them to shed the muzzles, and unplug corks with highly explosive content. In a way she had been once more the catalyst, and the result was not to the manager's liking because it went countercurrent to their goals.
Why did she care if those people could not handle her unyielding character? Should she lie down because she was lower in the command chain? Jack would, of course, yell at this idea, and curiously Daniel, the ever pacifist, seemed rather entranced as well. If those people wanted to harass their employees, then she should not be abiding by their rules.
— "You're worth better than this Frances. Never think so low of yourself."
Frances would have cried over the phone had the office not been made of glass panes.
— "Thanks Daniel, you can't imagine how good that is to hear. I'm afraid that I might have been rude and a bit touchy…"
— "Of course you've reacted to their attacks. This situation is nonsense and you can't stand to be inefficient. You've always been a bit over the top but that's how we love you, and that's your drive. Your refusal to bow is so alike Jack, but that's about making things right"
Over the top, eh? Yeah, she could accept his words, for they were not meant to scold. Yes, she tended to overreact a bit…
— "Thanks, again…"
The image of Jack, refusing to bow to Goa'uld masters sent her into fits of giggles. Her N+2 certainly reacted like one sometimes.
— "You're welcome… You know I never thought that someday people could have you doubt yourself … after all you've been through; I cannot comprehend how this can touch you so much…"
Frances paused, considering her answer.
— "Daniel, how many times a day do you doubt yourself?"
— "Uh… OK, bad example you know, I'm not…"
She didn't give him time to ditch her question.
— "That's a great example, you're a hero, a legend… You see my point"
— "Quite well… And I'm not a hero."
Frances scoffed.
— "Ask the … people you work with. Hell, ask the president!"
— "I told you I was a bad example… Anyway. Are you considering the contract?"
His voice had changed during that last sentence. It went from resignation to hope and Frances couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. She was wanted there, needed there.
— "I … gave my resignation letter. Kristan and I were planning a long road trip. You know, a little freedom. But now you have a lead… I'm just afraid to get my knight involved; you know how he is."
— "Can't keep away from you?"
Frances smiled, a true genuine smile that lit up her features, one that could attest how badly she loved her man. Yes. They lived in each other's flats, moving together from one point to another. Never apart, ever since the day she'd taken him to her bed. What was the point when they'd waited for so long? Then she sobered. This was no laughing matter, and wouldn't be resolved gazing at the moon like a lovesick wolf.
If something happened to him…
— "I'm afraid, Daniel. He won't back down, you know. He's going to get himself killed."
— "We all might"
There was a pause on the line. Yes, the situation was dire enough if Daniel had lost hope.
— "I'll talk to him. To join you during the crisis"
— "That would be appreciated. By many. Jack would be so pleased."
Frances gnawed at her finger, a bad habit. Fortunately, Kristan wasn't here to swat her hands away from her teeth.
— "I have a little administrative issue here. Three months' notice as per French law. I don't know how to solve it."
Her mind was already considering less than recommendable solutions, such as abandoning her post altogether – which would be bad for future employment – or finding a doctor for a false sick leave. None of them were satisfactory. Daniel's nonchalant voice, however, told her not to worry.
— "Oh, I think we can find a way around that."
— "Excuse me?"
— "Well, uh, I talked to Jack, and he said he can arrange it. We're in a tough situation here and were considering stealing you for the next month anyway so that will just be plain easier to take you away without the notice. If the President gives an order, I doubt your government will resist it."
As Frances gasped in surprise, Daniel couldn't help but snicker on the other end of the line.
— "That might teach them manners…"
Frances couldn't believe her ears. She had no idea Jack would pull such a prank! With the president!
— "That might, or not… That will be the gossip of the year, and that's an understatement."
Daniel's voice was smiling.
— "Are you not used to it yet?"
— "Yeah… I guess. Do I need to get a plane ticket?"
— "Nope, we'll be ready for you both. Express airforce you know, mind the turbulence,"
Frances started laughing, reminding the witty comment she had given them the time him and Mitchell in Norway.
— "I'll never get away with this, will I?"
— "Well, from me perhaps, but from Cameron you have no chance. Anyway, I got to go now but I'll talk to Jack."
His voice was getting wearier by the minute.
— "Got some research to do?"
— "Yeah, quite some stuff to read and translate."
Frances frowned; she knew he would end up sprawled on his desk, sleeping in between sheets and artifacts if Sam didn't barge in to pull him into bed.
— "Can I help you?"
— "Naaah. Get some quality time with your knight before all hell breaks loose. You can sleep in my office when you're here given the quantity of stuff I have to deal with."
— "OK then, get a puff."
She was joking, of course. Kristan would never let her sleep in Daniel's office like she used to do.
— "Puff and pillows, no worries, I've kept your seat fresh."
— "Thanks so much for your support, Daniel"
When Frances hung up, her feelings were all over the place. Quite obviously, her road trip was cancelled until further notice; she hoped that Kristan wouldn't be too disappointed. The heart of her worries, though, lay elsewhere. In a few days, they'd embark on an adventure that might very well kill both of them, unless she could convince her knight to stay behind. Pigs might very well fly… The Ori had invaded the galaxy, the SGC being the first and last line of defence against it. She was dragging Kristan into the biggest mess ever. How she wished they'd had more time together before being, once more, into a life or death situation.
A fervent prayer to the Valar later, Frances was quite ready to go home. She dodged her boss, whose voice could be heard from the other side of the building, to avoid meeting him and his stupid demands lest she punch him. Now was not the time to discuss her resignation terms. Frances jumped in her blue candy with a sigh, her hands caressing the steering wheel regretfully.
