Wasted Lives - chapter four
Disclaimer - Much as I wish they were mine, and however long I wait for Father Christmas to deliver me the rights I don't and never will own any of the characters created, or devised, by the genius Gene Roddenbury, R.I.P.
Pairings - Beka/Dylan duh!!
Rating - PG-13 just to be on the safe side.
Archiving - Ask and it will be granted but please don't take it without asking.
The crowds moved like a dying snake, crawling but occasionally coming to a sudden stop. Light was scarce and the air around them tugged at her chest. She felt stifled but kept her head up as they walked. No one was going to see her fear. The fear that raced through her body, making her skin crawl with every brush, and which kept her nails dug firmly into the palms of her hands.
The crowds grew to a standstill again, and a hand in the small of her back guided her to a niche by the side of the passageway. Beka wasn't afraid, but she knew that the hand belonged to Dylan. She turned to face him, and relaxed at the sight of the familiar face. She smiled, and he beamed softly back at her.
Dylan took hold of one of her hands and loosely held it. Staring into her eyes he could see behind the wall she had tried to create, straight into the eyes of a little girl, scared and alone. He had promised her so many times that he would always be there, why had she never completely believed him? In all honesty Dylan knew that people like Beka never fully trusted anyone. She had grown up relying only on herself, and that was how she intended to stay. But there were periods when Dylan saw her at her worst and he couldn't believe that she still wouldn't let him get close. He glanced down and saw the raw nail marks that covered her palms.
"Beka, oh my God, what have you been doing? Look at your palms!" he was scared by the level of self-mutilation that she had inflicted, in such a short space of time. "We have to go back now, and get your hands seen to. I promise we will come back her if and when you want."
Beka stared up at him and nodded. She felt so much like a small child, as she latched onto Dylan's arm. Her hands fell limp as she began to feel the pain from the marks across her palms, and around her knuckles where the rings had left circles. What was she doing out here? What could she achieve by wondering around the dirt encrusted, horrific streets where her father had once been? He wasn't suddenly going to arrive and lift her up, telling her that he was home for good this time and that she and Rafe where safe. He never had and never would. But maybe she just needed closure.
Later back at the headquarters the negotiations were completed, the trading laws agreed on and a ball was arranged. Harper, Trance and Tyr came down to join the rest of the crew on the planet. Obligated to go, Beka was helped by several female Acconiedz into an outfit. A loose fitting pair of trousers lay low slung at her waist and fell straight to the floor around her feet, and the simple sandals she was wearing. The black material that they were made of also created a strapless top that hugged her body. Covering the bodice and the top of the trousers was a wrap, made from a large piece of material of which the top two corners had been wrapped around and tied at the back of her neck. It was made of a fine fabric, finer and smoother than anything she had ever seen before, it was translucent and an alluring silver colour. Beka didn't like to dress up, but these clothes weren't bright, they didn't stand out amazingly, and she had to admit that, hell, they looked good. Her hair had been pinned up, her make-up done, and she sat staring at herself when the women left. You scrub up well girl, she thought.
The door chimed, " Come in," she said. Dylan stood behind the door as it opened. "Wow.you look.amazing!" said Dylan, smiling. Beka walked over and held out her hand, "Are you going to escort me to the ball Captain Hunt?" "Yes, but hang on, wait." he pulled a box from behind his back. The green velvet was slightly tufty but the box took presidency of place in his hand. "Beka, I don't want you to think about anything grave tonight, I want you to have a good time," she began to grin, " and I want you to wear this." He opened the box and inside lay a hair comb. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, it was silver, and both sides had a chain of ever decreasing diamonds riding up. The sides were shaped like swans necks, and it was finished with a diamond about the size of Beka's index nail adorning the top. "Dylan, I don't know what to, I mean it's gorgeous." he stared down as she took it in her hand, and she began to smile again. She placed her hands around the back of her neck, and began to slide the clip in "Turn around Beka. Let me help you." after a moment of hesitation she placed the slide in Dylan's hand and turned around. He gently slipped the comb down into her hair, and then placed his hands on either side of her face. Beka closed her eyes, and tipped back her head slightly more. After a moment too long, he pulled back his hands, "It was my grandmother's, she told me to give it to the woman who ran my life, so I guess that's you." Beka laughed and turned to face him, gripping his hand as they left the room.
None of the crew noticed any change in Beka, and Dylan saw how the 'kick ass' Valentine returned. It amazed him how much she changed and worried him. How often was she depressed as now, but put on a face to the rest of the crew? Trance was dancing with Harper, in slightly less hardwearing leathers. Tyr was on the dance floor with Beka, and Rommie was walking with him. "Ask her to dance. You might as well," said Rommie "Humph. sorry pardon?" replied Dylan, looking to her. "Ask, Beka, to, dance. Do I need to spell it out." she said again slowly. "Yes, well maybe." Said Dylan, as he looked back across at Beka. Rommie shock her head.
"Captain Hunt, will you dance with me?" said a voice from behind him. He span around and saw Beka. He relaxed half of his body and shook his head slightly. "You know Miss Valentine, I think my ship has been speaking to you again," "Maybe!" she replied "Come on Dylan, dance with me." He held out his hand, and led Beka off. The music was slow, and Beka put her right hand on Dylan's shoulder, Dylan placing his on her back. They griped left hands. They danced.
Slowly the room emptied, but the pair carried on dancing. Beka continued to stair into Dylan's eyes, and he stared back. Sometimes one of them would say something but mostly they stayed silent. The last piece of music came to a stop, and so did the dancers. The light around them was rousing, and Dylan brushed a piece of hair away from the side of Beka's face. "Let me in Beka, let me help you. " She placed two fingers on his lips,, and ran them round to the side of his head. He leant forward and she closed her eyes as their lips joined. The empty room gleamed, and Dylan drew Beka closer. When she pulled out of the kiss she spoke. "Dylan, you are giving all the help I need, don't worry." He lifted her into his arms and they made for Beka's room.
They began to kiss again, and Dylan put his hand round the back of Beka's head. He felt the slide, and pulled it out. Her hair tumbled out, and fell to just above her shoulders. He pulled at the knot holding up her wrap, she helped him and soon it was off, leaving the bodice by itself. "I think I love you Beka," whispered Dylan in her ear. "I know I love you Dylan," was the only response, as Beka kissed Dylan again.
Disclaimer - Much as I wish they were mine, and however long I wait for Father Christmas to deliver me the rights I don't and never will own any of the characters created, or devised, by the genius Gene Roddenbury, R.I.P.
Pairings - Beka/Dylan duh!!
Rating - PG-13 just to be on the safe side.
Archiving - Ask and it will be granted but please don't take it without asking.
The crowds moved like a dying snake, crawling but occasionally coming to a sudden stop. Light was scarce and the air around them tugged at her chest. She felt stifled but kept her head up as they walked. No one was going to see her fear. The fear that raced through her body, making her skin crawl with every brush, and which kept her nails dug firmly into the palms of her hands.
The crowds grew to a standstill again, and a hand in the small of her back guided her to a niche by the side of the passageway. Beka wasn't afraid, but she knew that the hand belonged to Dylan. She turned to face him, and relaxed at the sight of the familiar face. She smiled, and he beamed softly back at her.
Dylan took hold of one of her hands and loosely held it. Staring into her eyes he could see behind the wall she had tried to create, straight into the eyes of a little girl, scared and alone. He had promised her so many times that he would always be there, why had she never completely believed him? In all honesty Dylan knew that people like Beka never fully trusted anyone. She had grown up relying only on herself, and that was how she intended to stay. But there were periods when Dylan saw her at her worst and he couldn't believe that she still wouldn't let him get close. He glanced down and saw the raw nail marks that covered her palms.
"Beka, oh my God, what have you been doing? Look at your palms!" he was scared by the level of self-mutilation that she had inflicted, in such a short space of time. "We have to go back now, and get your hands seen to. I promise we will come back her if and when you want."
Beka stared up at him and nodded. She felt so much like a small child, as she latched onto Dylan's arm. Her hands fell limp as she began to feel the pain from the marks across her palms, and around her knuckles where the rings had left circles. What was she doing out here? What could she achieve by wondering around the dirt encrusted, horrific streets where her father had once been? He wasn't suddenly going to arrive and lift her up, telling her that he was home for good this time and that she and Rafe where safe. He never had and never would. But maybe she just needed closure.
Later back at the headquarters the negotiations were completed, the trading laws agreed on and a ball was arranged. Harper, Trance and Tyr came down to join the rest of the crew on the planet. Obligated to go, Beka was helped by several female Acconiedz into an outfit. A loose fitting pair of trousers lay low slung at her waist and fell straight to the floor around her feet, and the simple sandals she was wearing. The black material that they were made of also created a strapless top that hugged her body. Covering the bodice and the top of the trousers was a wrap, made from a large piece of material of which the top two corners had been wrapped around and tied at the back of her neck. It was made of a fine fabric, finer and smoother than anything she had ever seen before, it was translucent and an alluring silver colour. Beka didn't like to dress up, but these clothes weren't bright, they didn't stand out amazingly, and she had to admit that, hell, they looked good. Her hair had been pinned up, her make-up done, and she sat staring at herself when the women left. You scrub up well girl, she thought.
The door chimed, " Come in," she said. Dylan stood behind the door as it opened. "Wow.you look.amazing!" said Dylan, smiling. Beka walked over and held out her hand, "Are you going to escort me to the ball Captain Hunt?" "Yes, but hang on, wait." he pulled a box from behind his back. The green velvet was slightly tufty but the box took presidency of place in his hand. "Beka, I don't want you to think about anything grave tonight, I want you to have a good time," she began to grin, " and I want you to wear this." He opened the box and inside lay a hair comb. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, it was silver, and both sides had a chain of ever decreasing diamonds riding up. The sides were shaped like swans necks, and it was finished with a diamond about the size of Beka's index nail adorning the top. "Dylan, I don't know what to, I mean it's gorgeous." he stared down as she took it in her hand, and she began to smile again. She placed her hands around the back of her neck, and began to slide the clip in "Turn around Beka. Let me help you." after a moment of hesitation she placed the slide in Dylan's hand and turned around. He gently slipped the comb down into her hair, and then placed his hands on either side of her face. Beka closed her eyes, and tipped back her head slightly more. After a moment too long, he pulled back his hands, "It was my grandmother's, she told me to give it to the woman who ran my life, so I guess that's you." Beka laughed and turned to face him, gripping his hand as they left the room.
None of the crew noticed any change in Beka, and Dylan saw how the 'kick ass' Valentine returned. It amazed him how much she changed and worried him. How often was she depressed as now, but put on a face to the rest of the crew? Trance was dancing with Harper, in slightly less hardwearing leathers. Tyr was on the dance floor with Beka, and Rommie was walking with him. "Ask her to dance. You might as well," said Rommie "Humph. sorry pardon?" replied Dylan, looking to her. "Ask, Beka, to, dance. Do I need to spell it out." she said again slowly. "Yes, well maybe." Said Dylan, as he looked back across at Beka. Rommie shock her head.
"Captain Hunt, will you dance with me?" said a voice from behind him. He span around and saw Beka. He relaxed half of his body and shook his head slightly. "You know Miss Valentine, I think my ship has been speaking to you again," "Maybe!" she replied "Come on Dylan, dance with me." He held out his hand, and led Beka off. The music was slow, and Beka put her right hand on Dylan's shoulder, Dylan placing his on her back. They griped left hands. They danced.
Slowly the room emptied, but the pair carried on dancing. Beka continued to stair into Dylan's eyes, and he stared back. Sometimes one of them would say something but mostly they stayed silent. The last piece of music came to a stop, and so did the dancers. The light around them was rousing, and Dylan brushed a piece of hair away from the side of Beka's face. "Let me in Beka, let me help you. " She placed two fingers on his lips,, and ran them round to the side of his head. He leant forward and she closed her eyes as their lips joined. The empty room gleamed, and Dylan drew Beka closer. When she pulled out of the kiss she spoke. "Dylan, you are giving all the help I need, don't worry." He lifted her into his arms and they made for Beka's room.
They began to kiss again, and Dylan put his hand round the back of Beka's head. He felt the slide, and pulled it out. Her hair tumbled out, and fell to just above her shoulders. He pulled at the knot holding up her wrap, she helped him and soon it was off, leaving the bodice by itself. "I think I love you Beka," whispered Dylan in her ear. "I know I love you Dylan," was the only response, as Beka kissed Dylan again.