Disclaimer—see chapter one
A/N: Sorry this chapter was delayed, I was out of town for the holiday. Please let me know what you think of this chapter!! The last chapter got hardly any reviews!! L Thank you so much to those of you that did take the time to review—I so much appreciate it!! I'm finding I thrive on reviews, so please, please, please, let me know what you think—good or bad. Thank you!!
House of Dreams—chapter six
"I'm spending way too much time today being just a bit too friendly with trees," Brennan moaned as he again found himself leaning into another tree. "Blasted Park," he muttered.
"Shh!" Shalimar elbowed him in the stomach. "Be quiet, Brennan," she reprimanded. She shot him a quick glance over her shoulder as he hovered next to her as they attempted to hide themselves behind the large maple tree.
"I can't even see them," he whispered back. "Are you sure they're still out there?"
Shalimar looked back at him again, showing him her feral eyes. Brennan raised his hands in surrender, "Ok, ok, I get it."
He stood there bored for a moment, waiting for her to give him the next signal, when she suddenly grabbed him, and then they were on the run again.
"You know," she huffed as they snuck along, "it's a good thing neither one of those guys are feral, with the amount of noise you make."
"How do you know they're not feral?" He questioned skeptically, grunting as he tripped over an exposed tree root.
"I'd smell them," she answered simply, as if stating the obvious.
He grinned, but then wished he hadn't, as the slight movement reawakened the burning itch on his face.
"Get down," Shalimar suddenly hissed, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down with her behind a short bush. Brennan peered around the bush, straining his eyes in attempt to see the faint figures ahead of them. They had finally come to a stop and now appeared to be waiting. After a tense ten minutes had passed, a third figure appeared out of the shadows. They conversed in whispers for a few minutes, and then turned around and headed back in the way they had come—directly towards Brennan and Shalimar.
"Go around," Shalimar pushed frantically at Brennan, indicating to him to crawl around to the other side of the bush, "hurry up, they'll see us."
Brennan crawled forward on his hands and knees, circling the bush, with Shalimar on his heels.
"There better not be any more poison ivy down here," he groused to himself as he continued around the bush until coming to a stop when they were once again out of the line of sight. He took a deep breath, but then froze when his nose registered an offensive smell, and he became aware of kneeling in dampness. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh shi—"
"Shh!" Shalimar's hand had clamped firmly over his mouth. "It's just a stupid dog that marked its territory," she whispered, "You'll survive, now be quiet." She jerked her head towards the path, indicating the approaching men. They passed by, unaware of the drama behind the bush, words floating back behind them.
"You'll be glad you decided to come with us," one man was saying.
"I can't wait to meet her," another man agreed, "I've been wanting to—," His voice faded away as the rest of his words were lost on the wind as they disappeared from sight.
Brennan and Shalimar held their positions for a few more moments and then Shalimar relaxed her hold on Brennan.
"UGH!" he shuddered as he shot up from behind the bush, desperately scrubbing his wet hands along the sides of his already dirty jeans. He glared at Shalimar as she lost her battle to hide her smile and burst out laughing.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Shalimar," he warned.
"Yes," she innocently inquired.
"Don't even start with me," He paused to waggle his finger at her. "No more, I am going home, right now. You can either come with me or get left behind here."
"Ok, ok," she conceded with a grin.
A half an hour later, they arrived back at the apartment complex.
"Finally," Brennan sighed as they walked out of the elevator and into the hallway.
"No, kidding," Shalimar smirked, "You stink."
Brennan stopped in the middle of the hallway to glare at her. Shalimar met his gaze head on with glowing eyes, daring him to say anything. He rolled his eyes, turned back around, and ran smack into none other than Mrs. Martin. Her wrinkled eyes bulged as she took in his disheveled appearance and puffy red face, even as her nose wrinkled as she became aware of the pungent odor wafting around him.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "Oh my. What-what happened?" she stammered with an astonished face, eyes bouncing from one to the other.
"Never mind," Brennan growled, pushing past her and nearly running the rest of the way to their apartment. Shalimar paused to shrug apologetically at their neighbor before running after him.
Mrs. Martin turned and stared after them. "Humpf, newlyweds," she admonished, shaking her head before turning around and continuing on her way.
The next morning, Brennan stared grumpily at his expression in the mirror. By now the poison ivy had done its worst, spreading from both temples and all the way down his face and neck, before disappearing under his collar in a hideous rash. His left eye was almost swollen shut and a whitish puss was beginning to ooze out of the massive red blisters. It was impossible for him to shave, and the black shadow cast a grayish pallor over his features, making him look even worse.
"Be still my beating heart," Shalimar teased when she got a look at him. He couldn't even glare, it hurt too badly. He slumped back down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, clicking on the TV.
Shalimar felt bad. He really did not look too well. She decided to call a truce until he was back to full fighting capacity.
"Brennan," she softly called, sitting down next to him. He changed the channel, studiously ignoring her.
"If it makes you feel any better, I have it too," she held out her hand for him to see. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she saw him brighten at her words and reach for her hand, but then he frowned again as he took in the small spot on her palm.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" he asked sarcastically, flinging her hand back into her own lap. She laughed and stood, walking away as he again changed the channel.
Shalimar spent a few hours in the bedroom, working on the laptop, before hunger drove her back out into the main part of the apartment.
"Hey, you want some lunch?" she called as she walked past the back of the couch on her way to the kitchen. She dug through a few cupboards, nothing catching her interest.
"Brennan?" she called back out, "What are you hungry for?" He still didn't answer.
"Hey, Brennan," she yelled again, walking back into the living room. Her heart jumped in her throat for a moment when she saw him slumped over in the couch, but then she sighed in relief when he moaned and slowly rolled over to face her.
"Shal," he rasped, "I don't feel so good."
Shalimar truly felt sorry for him. She knelt down next to the couch and placed a hand on his forehead. "No fever, that's good." She noted, wincing though at the sight of his deformed face. "Brennan," she peered closer at the rash, "Didn't you put anything on here this morning?"
"Like what," he complained.
Shalimar shook her head, "I'll be right back." She patted him on the shoulder and then walked back into the kitchen.
Brennan peered at her suspiciously with his remaining good eye when she returned a few minutes later, a glass in hand. It was filled with something white and slightly lumpy.
"Shal?" he questioned. "Shal," he repeated nervously when she didn't answer. The liquid looked like a bit too much like rotten milk. "I'm really not in the mood for revenge right now," he panicked, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position as images from their food fight the other morning flitted through his mind.
"Relax, Brennan, let me take care of you." She raised her eyebrows up and down in glee as she held up the glass, loving the expression of fear that flashed across his face. He immediately winced in pain from the movement though, and she dropped the guise and dropped to her knees beside him.
"It's ok," she soothed, "it's just baking soda and water. It makes a nice paste that will help relieve the itching and burning." She produced a clean cloth from behind her back, "See?"
She dipped the cloth into the mixture and gently ran it across his temple and across his cheeks, biting her lip in sympathy at the painful blisters. Brennan lay back down on the couch in relief, sighing as the cooling paste worked its magic. After a few minutes, Shalimar finished the application to his face and set the glass down on the floor beside her. She hesitated for just a moment and then leaned over him, grasping the edge of his shirt in her hands and slowly lifting it up, revealing his chest. His one eye flew open in shock at her movements. She smiled at his reaction, before nervously swallowing and willing her body to calm down as she felt a flash of heat hit her at the sight of the tensed stomach muscles.
"Sorry," she muttered, "just trying to see if went further, ah, down," she stuttered, waving at his neck to indicate the rash that spread below his collar.
"Damn," Brennan whispered. Shalimar wrinkled her forehead in confusion, not understanding.
"I wish it did," he explained softly, grasping her hands that were still clutching at his bunched up shirt.
"Down boy," she whispered back, cheeks stained slightly red as she quickly pulled her hands free and leaned back on her heels. She groped behind her for the glass and then quickly stood back up.
"I'll ah, I'll just go make lunch now," she stated, inching her way back into the kitchen.
"Shal," Brennan called after her.
"Yeah?" she turned back around to face him.
"Thanks," he smiled at her in true gratitude.
"No problem," she smiled back. Their eyes met for a long moment in questioning scrutiny before she slowly turned back around and disappeared into the kitchen. Brennan collapsed back onto the couch, not even feeling the sting of sensitive skin against rough fabric as he stared at the kitchen door, still swinging slightly back and forth, willing her to come back.
Shalimar's shaking legs barely held her up as she sagged, hidden safely against the kitchen wall. She blew out her breath as she rested her heated forehead against the cool tile, compelling her racing heart to slow back down, even as she fought the rush of emotions flooding through her. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.