Loire Valley, France
Tuesday 1st February 1994
It was the light streaming in through the bedroom window that eventually woke Chrissie. She blinked, realising that she must have forgotten to close the curtains and then turned over, discovering that not only was she alone in the bed, but the other side of it did not appear to have been slept in. For a few moments, confusion reigned, and then the memories flooded back. Krang had come home in a raging temper, shouted at the children, shut himself in his office and got himself drunk, after which he'd demanded sex, torn her underwear (and if he really expected her to not wear any in future, he was about to learn otherwise) and then passed out at the critical moment. A deadweight Klingon was, it turned out, a very heavy Klingon and it had taken a fair bit of effort to extricate herself from underneath him. Once again, she found herself removing his boots and his weapons, covering him with a blanket and leaving him to sleep on the sofa.
Wondering what time it was, Chrissie got up and headed for the bathroom to freshen up before getting dressed. It must be fairly late since at this time of year the sun didn't rise until around 8:30 am. Krang had probably left for work by now, at least, she hoped so because he was going to be late if he hadn't. Not that there was anyone who could complain if he was late; it had advantages being the boss.
Finally, wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and a pale pink jumper, she made her way downstairs to find out what her monsters were up to. The house was suspiciously quiet, so she guessed they must be in the kitchen with the housekeeper. She was right about that, but it turned out that Krang was there as well, eating his breakfast and listening to the children who appeared to have forgotten their distress of the previous night and were chattering happily.
Krang, she was amused to see, looked a little under the weather, which wasn't really surprising considering how drunk he'd been the previous evening. Apparently, Chrissie thought wryly, even big, strong Klingon warriors got hangovers. Even so, he appeared to be enjoying the plate of bacon the housekeeper had put in front of him.
She was surprised when, seeing her standing in the doorway, the Frenchwoman hurried across the kitchen and enveloped her in a hug. It had been her fault that Marie Claire had been hurt and she had been a little nervous about seeing the housekeeper again. "Je suis désolée," Chrissie told her, expressing her sincerest regrets as best she could. "Je suis vraiment désolée!"
"Non, non," Marie Claire insisted. Aware of Chrissie's less than perfect understanding of her language, she was careful to speak slowly and clearly. "It was not your fault, child."
Krang watched the two women, pleased to see that all seemed well between them. If anyone was at fault for the injuries they had received, it was him. He had not done enough to keep them both safe. He'd thought a couple of guards would be enough to protect them from the resistance, never guessing that the attack would come from his own people. He would not be caught out like that again.
As the two women separated, Marie Claire hurrying back to the oven to remove a tray of cookies, Krang twisted in his seat to face his mate, holding out a hand and drawing her towards him. "Come and have some bacon."
Normally appetising, the smell of the bacon seemed a little off-putting this morning and Chrissie shook her head. "I shouldn't have had that whisky last night," she said ruefully. "I'm really not hungry." She'd only had one glass in the end, even if the measure had been on the generous side. It had tasted better than she'd expected for a cheap, blended whisky but it had definitely upset her stomach. Just the thought of eating made her feel sick.
She did look a little pale, he thought with some concern. "Headache?"
"No." Surprisingly enough, her head felt fine. "Just a little nausea, nothing to worry about." She gave him a rueful smile, "I did tell you I'm a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. A couple of glasses of water and some toast and I'll be fine."
Truthfully, Krang could not say the same. His own head was anything but fine and he'd had nobody but himself to blame. He knew what happened when he drank too much and he'd done it anyway. He'd been woken, much later than he'd planned, by the guards calling to inform him that his housekeeper had returned to work. It had been round about that point that the children had slightly warily come downstairs to greet him and after some hugs and reassurances of his love for them and a twofold warning to keep quiet and let their mother sleep, and to behave for Marie Claire because she hadn't been very well, he'd gone to let the housekeeper into the house. After that, he'd left her to deal with the children while he went into the bathroom, vomited, taken a couple of analgesics, cleaned himself up, and changed into a clean uniform before joining them in the kitchen for breakfast. And he was very definitely not telling Chrissie about that. He glanced at the kitchen clock, fighting the temptation to play truant and spend the day working from home. Kahless! It was later than he'd thought, only a few minutes shy of 09:30. His pilot had been waiting over an hour and he really did need to get going.
Never letting go of the hand he had claimed, Krang reluctantly got to his feet, and made his way into the hall. She walked with him, enjoying the moment of closeness before he had to leave.
"I will be working in Washington today," Krang informed her, reaching for his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders as he prepared to depart. "The computer there is better equipped for the type of work I must do and with the time difference, the office will be quiet."
That grim, resolute look that she'd seen last night had returned. It continued to make Chrissie nervous but he showed no aggression as he spoke to her and she shrugged it off as irrelevant. It was probably just the knowledge of what he had to work on; she didn't suppose that even for a Klingon, viewing footage of executions was exactly fun.
"There will be a way through this," she reminded him. "We'll talk again tonight and we will find a solution."
Krang seriously doubted that but he did not argue. Humans did not have the physical strength and prowess in battle that a Klingon took for granted, but they made up for it with cunning and imagination. And what good did it do to force her to see the hopelessness of the whole thing? "Before I forget," he said, blatantly changing the subject, "I've arranged a guard… well actually, Koreth did… to escort you and keep you safe whenever you wish to go out."
"A guard?" Chrissie was not keen on the idea. She understood his reasons but the last time he'd decided allocate guards to her protection, it hadn't ended well. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes!" He almost growled the word. "It is necessary. I will not risk you being harmed again, either by the Terran resistance or by my own people.
"Oh." Chrissie shivered; her abduction by Karg's soldiers and what had come after, had been one of the most horrific experiences of her life.
"His name is Grenn," Krang was continuing. "You have already met him. He was on duty the day you returned to the headquarters in London. You may remember he escorted you to my office."
She thought about that. "Yes, I do remember him. He was really scary. Are you sure he can be trusted? He was in the corridor while Karg…" She couldn't finish that sentence.
"He was the one who raised the alarm," Krang told her. "He risked his life to get help that day and he lied afterwards to protect you. Whatever you did to earn his loyalty, that soldier will die for you if necessary."
"I didn't do anything," she denied, shocked by his assertion. Why would this guard care what happened to her? "I just shouted at him because he wouldn't let me in – and then later, when he finally did, I just asked if he was cold."
"Exactly," Krang agreed. "You showed concern for his welfare. Yes, Chrissie, you will be safe in his care. He has a pilot's licence by the way, so we've made a shuttlecraft available and he will take you anywhere you wish to go. So, if you want to go shopping in Paris, or visit your brother in London, you can." He flashed her a grin, as he added, "Just don't go jetting off to Mauritius without me."
A little overwhelmed by the freedom he was offering her, she was quiet for a minute. The last thing she wanted to do was complain or ask him for money, but the truth was, her financial situation was not good. She had little choice but to swallow her pride and trust in his generosity. After their marriage, Diego had not wanted her to work, preferring that she stayed home with the children - just another way he had exerted control over her, she knew, taking away her independence and forcing her to rely on him. Over the last two years, unable to work, she had lived off the limited amount of money in her English account and thanks to her brother's kindness, it had been enough, even though she'd hated taking charity from him. Not that David had considered it charity, just as she knew that Krang would not. She'd done her best to repay her brother by keeping his home clean and tidy – or as tidy as it could be with two hyperactive children underfoot, cooking for him, doing the washing and all the other myriad household tasks that needed doing. Krang, though, did not need someone to cook and clean for him; he already had a housekeeper to do all that.
She should just come out with it, Chrissie decided reluctantly, and tell him what was worrying her. She'd expected him to tell her his troubles, reminding him that they were a team. Now she needed to take her own advice and trust him. "I know Marie Claire puts food shopping on your household account," she said hesitantly. "Is it okay for me to do that with things for the children until I can get international banking sorted out?" And how long that would take, she had no idea. The banking systems had been thrown into disarray by the arrival of the Klingons and even simple things like withdrawing cash, had become complicated. Trying to sort it all out was going to be a nightmare. It occurred to her that she could ask Grenn to take her to the bank in London. Maybe having a Klingon soldier as her bodyguard wouldn't be so bad. Going into the branch with a Klingon might even induce the manager to sort things out in her favour.
"Of course, it's all right," Krang assured her. "I have accounts with most of the village shops." He had not expected to be having a conversation with her about money this morning but seeing the worry in her eyes, he realised it was necessary. Finances were not something he'd ever needed to think about. Quite apart from the fact that as a security captain, he earned more than enough to support a mate and children, his family was an old and influential one which owned several very successful business enterprises, including one of the highest quality vineyards in the empire. No, money was not an issue. He did not bother to explain all that, however, seeing it as irrelevant. Instead, he focussed on the practicalities of the issue at hand. "If you wish to make any purchases elsewhere, whether for yourself or the household, you need only have Grenn sign for it on my behalf. We have a system in place for Terran shops and businesses to claim payment against our Klingon accounts."
Tears of gratitude welled up in Chrissie's eyes as her emotions got the better of her. Krang had thought of everything, anticipated every need she might have. What had she done to deserve this amazing man?
"Chrissie?" He sounded alarmed. "Why are you crying?"
"Because I love you so much and…" She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "…and you've done so much for me… and…"
He did not understand. "That should not make you cry. What is troubling you?"
"Nothing," she denied. "I just don't want to be a burden to you."
"You must understand, Chrissie-oy," he told her seriously, "that as your mate, it is my duty and my privilege to take care of you and the children. Had our courtship been a little more conventional…" and for a brief moment, the seriousness vanished to be replaced by a look of mischief. "… I would have hunted a targ and left it on your doorstep as proof of my ability to provide for you."
Despite herself, Chrissie giggled. Targs were large, boar-like animals, one of the very few Klingon species she'd heard of, thanks to their meal at The Neutral Zone.
"Oh, and that reminds me," Krang said, glad to see her change of mood. He did not like to see her upset. "Since we are talking of money… that's something else I need to tell you - while Kay'vin was in Madrid, he had your property confiscated and…"
"He what?" she interrupted him incredulously. "Confiscated my property? You mean the house in Majadahonda? How do you do something like that?"
He grinned. "Very easily. The house was registered to a known criminal and as such, was subject to confiscation. We had it sold and the money has been placed into your bank account. We also found several other bank accounts belonging to your… your previous mate and have transferred those funds as well. I think it is reasonable to say that you have enough funds in your own right to keep you financially secure for a very long time."
"Oh!" She was a little bewildered by the news. "I don't know what to say, except thank you." She let out another giggle. "Oh, Krang, I wish I could have seen their faces when they found out!" Impulsively, she reached up and kissed him and felt those strong, powerful arms go around her in response, pulling her closer to him as he returned her kiss in a way that left her breathless and wanting.
Very reluctantly, he pulled back. "You pick your times, Chrissie-oy," he complained. "I have to go to work and the shuttle is waiting for me. How am I supposed to concentrate when you do this to me?"
"Good!" she said cheekily, glad that their conversation had moved away from difficult areas and was back on safe, familiar ground. "I hope you suffer! Might I remind you that you fell asleep on me last night - quite literally on me. I will expect you to make up for that tonight."
Notes: "Je suis désolée... Je suis vraiment désolée!" I am sorry... I am truly sorry.
As always, a big thank you to three very special people who have been so supportive of this story... JDC0, Solasnagreine and RobertBruceScott.
And thank you to my amazing beta reader, Linny.