"This feels good," she mused.
"What? Sitting like this?"
"Well. Yes, that. But I was referring to this." She ran a hand over his arm, loving the feel of silk under her fingers and his muscles under her palm.
"Oh."
"What?" She looked at him, wondering what that note in his voice portended.
"I just don't know how I'm supposed to respond to that."
"Most guys would say thank you."
"I say things like that and you hit me and call me conceited."
"Not this time I won't."
"Thank you." He said it tentatively, and she smiled, then buried her nose in the nape of his neck. Breathing deep of the scent of him, her smile widened.
"What are you doing?" he asked, moving forward a bit so her nose was no longer firmly planted on him.
"You smell very nice. I love the way you smell; I missed it." She quashed all thoughts of pheromones.
"I smell?" His voice was unsure.
She drew back and smiled at him. "Like feathers and warmth. Very nice things."
"Ah." He cocked his head to one side and looked at her, then buried his head in her hair.
She ducked her head and grinned. "What? Turnabout is fair play?"
"Of course." His response was muffled by the top of her head, but still audible.
"So what do I smell like?"
"Hair."
She laughed.
"Hair, and green growing things. And sunshine."
"Oh." She grinned again. "Those are nice things."
He breathed deep again and sat back. "Very nice things."
She nestled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She slipped into a bit of a doze, feeling safe and happy, and willing to just let herself feel and not try to understand the feelings.
Knives looked down at her, and he wondered just what about her made him feel so… happy. Holding her, being close to her… he never wanted to let her go. She was his, she had proved it by following him here. He wanted her in ways that he had never wanted anyone before, and that scared him a bit. Now, granted, he had never spent much time in female company, and that might be why he had never felt these sorts of things for the vermin before, but even so…
She should not be in his heart. She didn't belong there. But there was no denying that she was there now, firmly ensconced. He couldn't dislodge her no matter how hard he tried. And how he had tried.
Vermin. Burrowing everywhere, getting into everything, especially places they weren't wanted. Impossible to get rid of them completely; even when killed they left evidence of their presence behind. His hand reached up and stroked her neck. How easy it would be to snap it; how fragile she was when all was said and done. He could picture the light leaving her eyes, see death as it closed in on her. He could picture it in his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It would break his heart to pieces when she finally left him; he would not hasten that day.
He sighed and rested his cheek on her head. There was no use fighting this anymore. She had won, not him. He would win only when she and all her kind were dead. And she was slowly stealing the fight from him.
Damn her for that. And damn him for being to weak to stop it. Next thing you know, he'll be all weak and snively like his brother, crying at the drop of a hat, or the death of any of these pathetic humans. And what a disgusting thought that was.
His grip on Kiley's shoulder tightened. She made him weak.
But he was miserable without her.
He sighed. What a dilemma.
This last week had nearly driven him mad. He checked behind himself after nearly every step, sure that he would see her slowly gaining on them.
But she didn't. She never showed up. Every night, as he lay down to sleep, he was sure that he would wake to see her standing over him, that slightly superior grin dancing on her face as she watched him.
But each morning he awoke, only to be greeted by the suns and Ace. No smug expression of badly concealed glee, no sarcastic comment masquerading as witty. No Kiley.
Then, when he saw her coming on the ships sensors, the thrill that shot through his heart energized him. He waited in the control room long enough to be sure that it was her, then dashed down to the doors. He made her wait as long as he could stand, unwilling to let her know that he missed her.
Then she had to go and be so infuriatingly calm, playing with string of all things. She looked perfectly willing to camp out there, as if the wait for the doors to open meant nothing to her.
She must try to be aggravating. No one could be that maddening on accident. His left hand reached across his body of it's own accord and grabbed hers. The feel of flesh on flesh, palm on palm was so right, so wonderful that for a moment he forgot to breathe. The process came back to him, and he gasped slightly, breath hissing through his teeth.
"What?" she asked sleepily. Her hand grasped his more tightly.
"Nothing."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"I don't need to move?"
"You don't get to move," he said sternly.
"Oh." She smiled. "Ok." She tried to return to resting, but the moment had passed. A minute went by as she resisted the pull of the inevitable, but she finally acquiesced.
She sighed and made to sit up. Knives reluctantly let her, sighing as well.
"Where's Ace?" she asked. "I'd like to say hello to her, too."
"That… won't be possible," Knives remarked hesitantly.
