Title: Patience
Author: Josephine
Email: lovellama@aol.com
Summary: Lingering thoughts on Hoshi
Category: Sap. Pure, unadulterated sap. The kind you can make Maple Syrup out of. Sap, sap, sap, sap … and more sap. Warning: According to Jessica, may make you diabetic.
Rating: G
Written: April 23, 2002
* * * * *
Patience
I look at her sometimes, when she doesn't know it. The muted light falls against her face; the hollow of her cheek is cast into shadow. At rest her mouth has a slight pout; I want to see the corners turn up in a smile, to see her eyes light up with happiness. When she turns that smile on me I can't deny her anything.
Her hair is a silk curtain that lies across her face; I have to stop my hand from reaching out, from brushing it back. She keeps it in a tight ponytail most of the time, but I prefer it loose. It cascades down her back, the slight wave in it making it bounce with every step.
She shifts slightly, and sighs; I wonder what she is thinking of. Our last mission took a lot out of her, the B'rim'tr are a fractious bunch that read insult in everything. I nearly came to blows with their First Officer; I don't know how she kept her temper through the whole thing. She's come along way since screaming at that Klingon.
I don't think she realizes how far. She still has doubts about her abilities, if what she's doing makes any difference. 'A glorified switchboard operator' she sometimes calls herself. She's gotten better with the phase pistol, and she can throw me seven times out of ten. Even when I'm paying attention. I got an earful the first time I let her win. Tore a strip off my hide in twelve different languages.
I move closer to her, breathing in the lingering delicate perfume she wears. Lavender, I think it is. It fits her perfectly. I so closely associate the scent with her that the merest trace of it triggers a physical reaction in me. Like now. I literally ache for her. I can't wait any longer.
I give in, stretching out to run my fingers through her hair, combing it off her face. My hand cups the curve of her jaw; her smile appears as she turns into my palm. Heavy lids struggle to open, showing bottomless brown eyes that meet my own. I know she should sleep, but I want her awake.
"Charlie," she whispers, and I fall in love all over again.
Author: Josephine
Email: lovellama@aol.com
Summary: Lingering thoughts on Hoshi
Category: Sap. Pure, unadulterated sap. The kind you can make Maple Syrup out of. Sap, sap, sap, sap … and more sap. Warning: According to Jessica, may make you diabetic.
Rating: G
Written: April 23, 2002
* * * * *
Patience
I look at her sometimes, when she doesn't know it. The muted light falls against her face; the hollow of her cheek is cast into shadow. At rest her mouth has a slight pout; I want to see the corners turn up in a smile, to see her eyes light up with happiness. When she turns that smile on me I can't deny her anything.
Her hair is a silk curtain that lies across her face; I have to stop my hand from reaching out, from brushing it back. She keeps it in a tight ponytail most of the time, but I prefer it loose. It cascades down her back, the slight wave in it making it bounce with every step.
She shifts slightly, and sighs; I wonder what she is thinking of. Our last mission took a lot out of her, the B'rim'tr are a fractious bunch that read insult in everything. I nearly came to blows with their First Officer; I don't know how she kept her temper through the whole thing. She's come along way since screaming at that Klingon.
I don't think she realizes how far. She still has doubts about her abilities, if what she's doing makes any difference. 'A glorified switchboard operator' she sometimes calls herself. She's gotten better with the phase pistol, and she can throw me seven times out of ten. Even when I'm paying attention. I got an earful the first time I let her win. Tore a strip off my hide in twelve different languages.
I move closer to her, breathing in the lingering delicate perfume she wears. Lavender, I think it is. It fits her perfectly. I so closely associate the scent with her that the merest trace of it triggers a physical reaction in me. Like now. I literally ache for her. I can't wait any longer.
I give in, stretching out to run my fingers through her hair, combing it off her face. My hand cups the curve of her jaw; her smile appears as she turns into my palm. Heavy lids struggle to open, showing bottomless brown eyes that meet my own. I know she should sleep, but I want her awake.
"Charlie," she whispers, and I fall in love all over again.