This story takes place approximately two cycles after "A Night on the Town" and shortly before the events in "Rules of Engagement."
The humanoid male sailed up and over to land back first on the tavern table and crash through it. Berret growled low in his throat with barely contained fury and stalked forward, reaching for the unlucky being once again. A slim black-gloved hand gripped his bicep from behind and Chiana used all her force to spin the tall man around, forcing the Shrike to face her.
"What the frell did you do that for?" she demanded.
"You know why I did it," Berret spat back, forgetting for the moment the object of his ire. The man took advantage of the ex-assassin's distraction and started to crawl away from the quarrelling pair.
"We were just having a little fun," Chiana said.
"Exactly!" exclaimed Berret. "You were having fun and the rest of these fools think I am a joke because I walked in here with you. If one more of these kar'sh-damned narbs smirks at me - I will rip their frelling head off! I hated this place the first time we were here two cycles ago."
The Shrike glared at the rest of the patrons around them. The first time the crew visited this particular establishment was shortly sometime after Berret joined them on Moya. It quickly became apparent to the ex-assassin that most of the patrons enjoyed a game that involved breaking up partners who entered the nightspot together. The losing victim was often the blunt of ridicule by the victorious parties and their compatriots. That first time, Chiana had left with a patron for some recreation and when the man returned later that night to gloat over Berret's apparent lose of face in his eyes, he found out the hard way that the Shrike didn't take well to being ridiculed.
The Nebari girl crossed her arms stubbornly. "If I recall right... I wasn't the only one who left here with somebody else that night," she tossed back at him. Berret's eyes flared in anger with the accusation and he drew himself up to his full height to tower over the smaller Nebari woman. Chiana met his glare squarely and didn't back down.
"I..." Berret said coldly, "didn't leave here for the same reason you did."
"So that's how its gonna be?" Chiana asked in a hard low voice. "I never thought you would ever throw that up into my face." Chiana's eyes held no expression. Berret couldn't tell by her neutral stare what she was thinking or feeling. "You know my nature, I've never lied to you about that. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever been as honest with anyone else in my life as I have been with you. I can't believe that you would turn on me like that."
Berret was suddenly taken aback. With one poorly thought out sentence he'd managed to wound his best friend deeper then he ever deemed possible. Instead of becoming livid, her eyes took on an almost sad cast.
"You know... I wouldn't have to look for company elsewhere," she said, her tone reflecting the sadness in her eyes, "If you would be there for me."
Beret knew that was coming. Their disagreements of late always seemed to come back to this one point. Chiana had hinted and Zhaan had told him that there was something more between the Nebari woman and himself for a while. Finally the Delvian had explained about what truly happened to him when he was taken prisoner by small time criminals and tortured; and that part of his memory had been taken away in order to save his sanity as a result of the experience. The Priestess told him just prior to the abduction that he and Chiana had finally become lovers. Berret couldn't bring himself to believe that and insisted that Zhaan had to have been mistaken or had misunderstood something. He even feared that the Priestess had possibly seen one of the fantasies he sometime had about a life with Chiana during one of their Unity sessions and had mixed it up with something that might have happened in real life. The thought that Zhaan might know about one of his pitiful dreams was embarrassing to Berret. He may have issues with his emotions but he was not some teenage boy suffering through his first bout of what Crichton calls "puppy love" or a "schoolboy crush."
He'd had odd intimate encounters with Chiana but that had been more in line with her free-spirited nature, not something that could truly be called romantic or as meaningful as becoming lovers. He was sure that Chiana cared for him as a friend, but beyond that... any intimate contact they shared could surely only be on the level as a distraction or recreation for her. At times Berret thought about surreptitiously letting himself live the whimsy for a short time, but he was finding after awhile that the fantasy was beginning to wear heavily on him. There came a point when pretend wasn't enough anymore and the lack of the possibility of there ever being a reality... grew evermore depressing.
As much as he secretly craved the Nebari girl's affections he couldn't bare the lie he made for himself much longer... he was sure that somehow it would break him soon.
"I can't be one of your distractions," he told her. He waved one had around at the crowd around them that had gone back to their own diversions as soon as they realized that the show was over and that the irate Shrike wasn't going to pound further on the unfortunate customer who'd made the mistake of getting too chummy with the gray woman. "That is not in my nature. I'm not one of these mindless drones that waste all their time seeing who they can frell tonight."
"Is that what you think of me?" Chiana asked defensively.
"I don't really know what to think of you, Pixie," Berret thought silently to himself. "I only know what I can't have... and its slowly wearing me down." Outwardly he shook his head.
"You know better then to accuse me of that," he said.
"Do I?" Chiana threw in. "I thought I did, but it looks to me you're basically calling me a tralk." She planted both her small fists on her slim hips and glared up at him. "Why don't you just come out and say it? Go on; just say what you really mean... I'm a tralk." She cocked her head to one side and her eyes narrowed. "...Or do you prefer the term "slut"?"
Berret found he was becoming so aggravated that he wanted to break something, again... or maybe even kill something or someone. It made him even angrier as he had a certain feeling Chiana was right. That's exactly were his thoughts had been heading and he knew it. It made things worse that he wasn't so much mad as hurt by her actions with the unlucky patron. When the male patron had given him his sly grin of victory when he thought he'd succeed in winning Chiana's attentions away from him, it was easier to lash out at the man rather then the Nebari girl to ease his wounded feelings.
Chiana twisted her head the other way to view him from a different angle. She snorted in impatience waiting for his answer and scowled deeply. Berret was sure that at any microt she would begin tapping the toe of her boot in annoyance.
"I know exactly what and who you are," he told her, "I have always accepted that." An answer, but not exactly the black and white one Chiana had been anticipating. "If you had been expecting to seek out someone's company tonight then we should have come into this place separately to avoid these unnecessary frelling mind games," Berret went on to say.
Chiana looked at him quizzically, wondering if she'd just lost control of the conversation somewhere. She had worked herself up into a froth when she thought the Shrike was debasing her. She felt betrayed and drez it... she was mad at the man!
Berret gazed down at her and the fire seemed to drain from his eyes almost as if he were admitting defeat.
"Just this once," he said, his tone of voice now at a calmer level then just a few microts ago, "before you started playing... it would have been nice if you considered how I might be... feeling... about it."
Chiana paused almost stunned. She resisted the urge to rub at her ears to see if they were playing tricks on her. Had she just heard right? Did Berret just say he'd been hurt by her flirting with that other guy?
Her heart skipped a sudden beat as she thought that he might be remembering that night they'd spent together. It seemed so long ago and she'd almost given up hope that the memory would eventually surface again. Every night since then she had laid in bed imagining that it would suddenly all come back to him and he'd reach across the small space separating them and it would all be just like that night all over again. Every morning the disappointment grew a little larger until it seemed almost as insurmountable as that self imposed wall that Berret still kept his emotions behind. Their bodies could be a mere arm-length apart but their souls were universes away from each other. Chiana didn't know how much more she could take and it was wearing her thin, which is why she'd been so quick to argue with the man. At least she was finally getting some reaction from Berret for all her effort.
She looked up to ask the Shrike a question... hoping to hear him blurt out that the memory of what they shared that forgotten night was coming back. Too late she realized that Berret had pulled up the collar of the hated Peacekeeper overcoat as if he were getting ready to go outdoors and turned away from her. Before she could stop him, he was heading for the door of the establishment. Patrons wisely stepped out of his way fearing another repeat of the table breaking incident.
"Berret... wait," she called in a tiny voice as she realized he wasn't going to say what she hoped he would. She made as if to follow the Shrike but the club customers weren't as eager to move aside for her as they were for the taller man and he made it out the entrance without hearing her. The Nebari girl looked around the club in frustration. Several male patrons caught her glancing in their direction and hurriedly averted their eyes least they attract her attention. It was obvious they thought it best to play it safe in case the ex-assassin returned, and look for safer game elsewhere in the nightspot other then the gray woman.
Across the room, Sean slid a twenty-credit chip across the table to John with an acerbic grumble.
"Thank you," said the older Crichton with overabundant cheer as he scooped up the currency and pocketed it.
"I thought for sure that they'd slug it out right there," Sean complained.
John shook his head. "They've been building toward it for weekens, but I was reasonably sure Berret took all his frustration out on that table."
"Not to mention Chiana's new playmate," put in Andar with a grin, which earned him a light slap from Malika.
"The three of you should be ashamed of yourselves, wagering on their argument like that!" the Delvian snapped.
Andar looked over with surprise at his lovely blue friend. "Since when did you become Miss Sensitive all of a sudden?" he asked.
"I didn't," protested Malika. She then paused a moment to sneer and bare her perfect teeth at a male patron who was making eyes at her, obviously wondering if he could win her away from her table... and Andar. After the man cowered at her savage look she turned her full attention back to the ex-teacher. "It's just not right is all," she said trying to wave the question off and hoping for a change in subject. "You shouldn't enjoy another being's misery is all I'm saying."
Andar hid his slight frown by taking a drink from his mug of Raslek. He should have remembered that Malika might feel a little more compassionate toward Berret since the time she and Zhaan went into his mind to salvage his sanity. She never spoke of what they saw there... neither did Zhaan for that matter. But he'd noticed a change in the way the Delvian girl dealt with the Shrike afterwards. She's become more tolerant of the man and her comments were somewhat less full of spiteful barbs then before. She at times would still take the man to task for some things but Andar had noticed that there were also other things Malika let pass without comment. The older Crichton would have said that she was "cutting him a break."
Malika was saved from having to continue defending her statement by the return of Zhaan and D'argo to the table.
"You managed to take care of everything I take it?" asked Aeryn, who had stayed out of the discussion about their currently at odds crewmates on the dance floor.
"Yes," rumbled the Luxan, "We spoke with the owner... he will forget about the incident and not call law enforcement."
"It cost us 150 credits for the table and another 100 credits for the disturbance," put in Zhaan with a slight scowl.
John smiled slightly and shook his head. "It was your idea to let them go at it and have it out," he said.
"I don't know what you expected Berret would do, Zhaan?" added Aeryn. "You should have let us break it up before it went that far."
Zhaan sighed heavily as she and the warrior took their seats. She gazed over at Chiana who was still standing almost where Berret had left her looking lost.
"I know, Aeryn dear. But the two of them have to work this out on their own," said the Priestess. "If we interfere every time there is a problem... they will never mature."
"Well..." said Sean as he belted back the rest of his Raslek and then grimaced at the bottom of the mug. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to an alcoholic drink served hot. "I wish they'd hurry up and get it over with. I for one am tired of all the constant bickering and yelling."
Zhaan looked confused. "Chiana and Berret usually confine most of their more serious disagreements to in private," she said. "I wasn't aware that they were disturbing you, Sean?"
The young Crichton's eyes flew open in mock surprise. "Oh... I'm sorry," he deadpanned. "I was thinking of John and Aeryn. My mistake..."
From across the table, Aeryn lifted an eyebrow to indicate her un-amusement with Sean's wit while John groaned, then wadded up a wet napkin to throw at his relative.
Sean chuckled in glee as he dodged the wet projectile. Spying a comely female on the dance floor that he'd been eyeing most of the night, he noticed that she was openly staring in his direction. She gave him a pretty smile when she realized she had his attention - an open invitation if he ever saw one.
"Well, if you old foggies will excuse me, I have to go shake my boogie shoes now," he said as he left the table to join the girl.
Aeryn shook her head in wonder. "You humans are a strange lot," she said to John.
Crichton sat back in his chair and smiled as Sean started to dance with the young woman on the dance floor. "Naw," he said, "it's just that the Territories isn't ready for the Crichton charm yet."
Outside the nightclub Berret wondered which way he should go. He considered that it really didn't matter, as he simply just wanted to be away from the club... and Chiana for the moment. He thought that maybe he should have just gone back to the room but he had to scratch that idea now as he and the Nebari girl had shared one. Now he considered that he probably couldn't return to it later as he might walk in on her and whomever she might have picked up as her lover for the night, so he considered he would either have to get another room or spend the night in the Transport Pod. The notion of what Chiana might be doing later left a bitter feeling deep in the pit of his stomach and he tried to push the thought out of his mind. He alternated between a feeling of cold despair and hot rage at the reflection and he wanted to scream out his frustration at the jumble of emotions that raced through him. He hated this... he hated the feelings, the worry... the caring about things he knew he couldn't control and knowing that he had no right to even try inserting his influence if he had been able. Chiana was free to do as she pleased without having to explain herself to anyone... least of all him. He told himself that he knew this for a fact and totally understood how things stood. Still, he found himself longing for the times when something of this nature wouldn't have mattered to him. Goddess help him... sometimes he found himself wishing for the oblivion of the collar once again.
He grumbled to himself as he had the mental picture of D'argo sneering at him and labeling him a coward for having such thoughts of surrender. He pictured himself giving that imaginary Luxan what Crichton called the single finger salute in response. He didn't care any longer; he was just too tired anymore to care.
He realized he'd wandered across the street from the nightspot and someone had just called his name. He turned half expecting to see Chiana or one of his crewmates trailing him. He was just about to yell for them to go away when he realized the person calling him wasn't one of them.
"Berret?" called the woman who was approaching him, dragging a reluctant-looking male behind her.
At first the Shrike was at a lost as to who the woman could be, then she walked under a streetlamp and the light glared off her thick glass occulars.
"Chandra!" exclaimed Berret as he recognized the female he'd met before at the same tavern.
"I thought that was you," said the woman happily. "I wasn't sure with the new coat and all. I'm surprised to see you again. When did your ship get back in-system?"
"It's pleasant to see you again too," he replied. "We got in today. We're just stopping for a quick rest and some supplies."
"I'm glad I got a chance to run into you again," Chandra said. The man at her side shuffled his feet uneasily and Chandra giggled self-consciously at forgetting about him for the moment. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" she said. "Berret, this is my companion, Nealsonn. Nealsonn... this is my friend, Berret."
The Shrike greeted and brushed fingers with the wary Nealsonn. The look on his face was so plain that Berret was sure the other man thought he had designs on Chandra.
"Chandra and I are just friends," he said trying to reassure the man.
Chandra took Nealsonn's hand as she explained, "Berret and his crew are not from this sector. He had a bad run in with Trace the last time he was here and he doesn't really like their sort of games."
The man nodded but still didn't look convinced that Berret wouldn't try and take Chandra from him. He slipped an arm possessively over the woman's shoulder and regarded Berret with undisguised wary caution. Chandra's eyes lit up as she remembered something that might be of interest to her friend.
"Speaking of Trace," she said in a low voice as if they were conspirators. "I heard a few days later after we met the last time that somebody whose companion he stole-away beat the living grotz out of him in front of some of his friends. They say he was tossed around and thrown about like yesterday's garbage."
"You don't say?" said Berret feigning surprise. "I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later."
Chandra shook her head in agreement. "Yeah. I know it's a bad thing to condone violence but I just can't help being pleased seeing one of them get what's coming to them."
Berret just gave her a tight smile, hoping she didn't hear about his little table breaking party of a while ago. As luck would have it, a vaguely familiar annoying laugh sounded behind him as a group of people headed their way.
"Speak of the evil one himself," whispered Chandra with a slight nodded behind the Shrike. Inwardly Berret groaned. How could this frelling night get any worse he thought to himself?
A harsh barking bray sounded as Trace called out, "Nealsonn... my good friend!" The words were mocking with not even a hint of being sincere. Nealsonn tightened his hold around Chandra even more. "Chandra, you're looking especially lovely this evening. Maybe we can have a 'dance' later?"
Chandra frowned deeply as Trace and his cronies laughed out loud at the suggestive way Trace had said the word dance. Berret turned toward the arriving group. Seeing Trace's handsome face again made his anger flare. "He was with Chiana," was all Berret could think of. The gloom of the night lifted as his eyes turned silver from the microbe augmentation in reaction to his ever-degrading mood. Trace staggered to a halt as he recognized Berret while the Shrike fought to rein in the sudden urge to snap the man in two. He hoped the man didn't want to try and even the score by picking up where they last left off, as he wasn't sure how much control he would have over himself at that particular point of the disastrous night.
To Berret's relief, Trace's eyes shot wide open in dread and he swallowed hard.
"Y-Y-You!" stammered the man in shock. He began backing away making excuses to his friends as to why they should go to another nightspot with better entertainment across town. Confused, his companions followed him as he retraced their steps back the way they had just come, leaving the trio alone of the street corner once again.
"I wonder what that was all about?" asked a bewildered Chandra. Nealsonn shrugged his shoulders in reply.
"I don't know?" her companion said, but it was obvious Nealsonn was glad to see Trace gone.
Berret turned back to face Chandra and her date. The woman took an involuntary step backwards as she saw the silver fading from Berret's eyes.
"I see," Chandra said as she quickly got over the shock. Berret sighed as it became apparent that the small woman was putting two and two together. "Nealsonn?" she said turning to her date. "Would you mind giving Berret and me a few moments alone? I'll meet you inside the club shortly."
The man looked like he wasn't too happy to leave his date where the other man might charm her into walking off with him, but Chandra assured Nealsonn she had no intentions of leaving the nightspot with anyone else but him. Despite the pettiness of her date's jealousy, Chandra seemed to gather some sort of security from the fact that the man felt that way about her. Oddly, it looked to Berret that it made her very happy. Reluctantly the man turned to go. Before he made to cross the street, Berret called out to him.
"Nealsonn!"
The man turned back to face the Shrike, obviously wondering what the other man could want of him.
"Should you decide to leave here tonight with someone else... I will hunt you down, and hurt you very, very, badly," warned the ex-assassin.
Nealsonn looked momentarily stunned and then as if he wanted to say something, but then he thought about Trace's sudden fear at seeing Chandra's friend with his strange eyes and thought better of the idea. He nodded and then continued on his way, but still managed to cast a few odd glances back at the Shrike.
Chandra raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't mince words, do you?" she asked.
Berret gave her a forced smile. "Some people need to be reminded when they have something worth holding on to," he said. Chandra broke into a shy smile as she realized Berret had paid her a roundabout compliment.
"I'll give you that," she said softly as she folded her arms across her chest. She looked up at him with bright searching eyes. "Is there something you should be telling me?" she then asked expectantly.
Berret let out a pent up breath, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. At first he expected his friend to make a quick exit after witnessing the changing of his eyes. He found himself relieved when she didn't leave. To his further surprise, over the next few microns everything he'd held back from her at their first meeting came out. His past with the Syndicate as a collared assassin, his escape on Moya, his strained relationship with Chiana, and yes... even the tossing and throwing about of Trace the last time he was there. When he was finished, Chandra let out a low whistle in wonder.
"That is some story," she said. "You've certainly been through quite a bit."
"More then you expected to hear?" asked Berret glumly.
"Well, yeah. An assassin is the last thing I would have thought of when I first met you," she said. "I had a feeling you were hiding something but I just assumed it was you were married or running from a gambling debt... something normal. But the Syndicate! Wow!" She shook her head in amazement. "My friends at work will never believe this."
Berret looked up at her in alarm and frowned.
"Not that I would ever tell anyone," Chandra quickly added.
"It would be best if you didn't," Berret agreed. "I should never have told you any of this," he said in sudden regret.
Chandra patted his arm. "No. No, it's okay," she told him. "We're friends and I think you just needed a friend to talk to."
Berret chuckled lightly, "And who better then the woman who taught me to dance?"
Chandra beamed at him. "Right, who better?" she asked. "So I'm guessing you're feeling down because of your friend, Chiana? Am I right?"
Berret did a double take as his friend zeroed in at the source of his misery. He hadn't mentioned anything in particular about the Nebari woman being at the heart of his troubles but Chandra had picked up on something. He was just about to ask her how she came to that conclusion when the girl interrupted him.
"You didn't have to come out and say it," she said. "I could tell that first time that it bothered you when she had left with Trace, despite what you said about the two of you only being shipmates. I just thought it was obvious that you didn't want to talk about it so I didn't push anything."
Berret raised both eyebrows at her reasoning. "You are quite perceptive," he told her.
"It's a girl thing," Chandra replied with a dismissing shrug of her slim shoulders. "So what's different about this time that has you all bound up over her?"
Just as with their first meeting, Berret found himself relaxing with the tiny woman. She had found a nearby shop step to sit on and Berret joined her on it.
"I don't know," he said wistfully. "So many things have changed..."
When he didn't go on to elaborate further, Chandra took over the conversation once again.
"I see..." she said sagely and placed one hand over his. Smiling up at him reassuringly she continued, "Let me give you the same advice I give to my younger brother when he has woman problems..."
For the next half arn Berret listened to Chandra's words of wisdom, thankful for her effort but he quickly decided that his helpful friend didn't fully understand the scope of his problems. She had no way of knowing the horrors he'd committed for the Syndicate and he didn't have the heart or courage to attempt explaining them to her. Instead he nodded at the appropriate times in her lecture and told her that he felt better afterwards from her talk. He walked her back over to the entrance to the nightclub feeling self-conscious about the time he taken up from her date. They parted with a hug and a promise to meet up again the next time Moya was in-system. Chandra went inside to meet up with the waiting Nealsonn and Berret turned away and picked a direction away from the noisy establishment to walk in.
He found himself almost retracing the walk he and Chandra had taken almost two cycles before. He stopped at a park bench and sat for a few arns watching the stars flicker overhead. Occasionally a couple would walk by hand in hand oblivious to all but each other. Berret watched them stroll passed, knowing that such was not in his future. He did his best to convince himself that it really didn't matter and tried to deaden the ache that endeavored to restart itself in his heart. At one point he inwardly cursed at himself for feeling so foolish. He told himself that his destiny was to exact vengeance on Arckatius and to bring down the Scarren Syndicate House if he was able. He didn't have time to worry about midnight strolls or whispering sweet nothings under the moons' light. Death was his business. Death he had been forced to become and death he would always be. There was no room for anything else. In making him, Arckatius had made his own imminent demise. After the crime lord was dead it didn't matter if he died in the attempt or if another assassin like Val'Cirrus caught up to him eventually and finished her mission for her. He chuckled out loud at the ludicrous thought of meeting Arckatius again in Hezmana and spending the rest of eternity killing the Scarren over and over again till the end of all time. The dark mirth suddenly burst from his lips, startling a nearby pair of lovers who hadn't noticed him there on the bench. The slightly unhinged laughter unnerved the young couple and they got up and moved away from the man. Berret watched them walk away - hand in hand. "That's right, you bastard," he thought to himself, "You deserve to die over and over again for what you've taken from me."
The laughter abruptly died. Berret found himself imagining the simple feel of a smaller hand in his.
"Hand in hand," he muttered out loud to himself as the lovers rounded a curve in the park's walkway and disappeared from sight. "I'm not even allowed that."
Just before closing time the Shrike found himself back at the nightclub. Thinking that it was too late to head back to the landing port to the Transport Pod, he thought it best to return to the establishment and see about renting himself a room on the upper floors for the rest of the night. Tomorrow there would be the arduous task of loading supplies and he couldn't very well stay up all night on the park bench scaring couples looking for a place to be alone. To his surprise, John was still sitting by himself propped up at the table the group had occupied earlier, nursing a Terza Root tea. He came to a relaxed attention as the ex-assassin entered the almost now empty room. Berret dodged around a few employees cleaning up as Crichton waved him over. The ex-assassin thought the other human would have some cross words for him for leaving and making him wait up for his return but John just nodded nonchalantly at the Shrike as he came near.
"Glad to see you made it back," said John as he stifled a yawn and stretched his arms over his head to relieve a few knotted muscles. "I was just about to head up for some shut-eye myself," he lied.
Berret nodded back at him as he pulled out some of his credit chips and started to count out the price of renting a room for himself. Crichton watched him for a few microts, knowing what he was doing. Getting up from his chair he downed the last of his tea.
"Everyone else went upstairs an arn or two ago," he said as if in idle chatter, Berret nodded again that he was listening... still counting chips. John set the cup back down on the table.
"Chiana went upstairs too awhile ago... alone," he said meaningfully.
Berret paused in his counting to look up at the other man. John looked at him without saying anything more, still the human's eyes held their own message - "Don't be stupid."
A microt later John nodded as if satisfied about something and lightly slapped Berret on the shoulder.
"I'll see you in the mornin' J.B." John told him and then headed up the stairs.
"Good night, Crichton," replied Berret, really the first words he'd spoken since coming back in. He looked back down at the handful of credit chips, wondering if he should go ahead with his original plan to rent another room. It was obvious there was a purpose to John waiting up for him and informing him of Chiana's presence alone in their shared room. Still, he didn't relish the thought of possibly having to pick up their argument once again at this late arn if he went to the room.
He almost decided to get the new room anyway then thought there was no sense in wasting the money if Chiana was already sleeping. In that case they would either pick up the fighting tomorrow or they would both ignore it until the next time tempers got heated. He started up the stairs still jingling the chips in his open hand fully intending to go to the room. He halted once again with the return of the thought that "What IF Chiana WAS still up?" and almost decided to go back down and rent the room after all.
He took one step back down the staircase then cursed himself for his indecision. He abruptly shoved the counted out credits into one pocket where he knew where they were and decided he would go to the room and if the Nebari girl was awake and wanted to continue the argument, he could just as simply leave and then rent another room.
He opened the room's door as quietly as he was able, feeling a little foolish for creeping into someplace he had a reasonable right to be. The room was dark except for a single light left on to the right side of the large bed. On the left side was a motionless shape under a mound of blankets. Berret felt himself relax with relief that Chiana was asleep instead of awake and took off his overcoat to drape it over a chair with his pistol belt. He considered that she might have left the light on the opposite side of the bed so that he might be able to see should he return, not that with the microbes that he really needed the light to see. That thought made him pause. Perhaps she hadn't left the light on as a courtesy to him after all; maybe she'd left it on the better to ambush him when he returned... meaning to continue the fighting. Nothing he could do about it now as he'd already walked blindly into the trap. If she were going to spring it, she would spring it.
He sat down on his side of the bed waiting for something to happen. When the lump under the covers on the other side didn't move to pounce on him, he concluded that Chiana was indeed asleep. He removed his boots and some of his outer clothing to get comfortable and shoved the pulse pistol between the mattress layers where he could get at it if he needed. He reached over and shut the light off and lay back on his pillow. He started up at the ceiling in the darkness wondering what would happen when Chiana awoke the next day. He decided to not think about it anymore and rolled over to settle into sleep. He'd automatically rolled to face the woman under the blankets when he became aware of it. He froze as he mentally beat himself for not sensing it sooner. Chiana didn't have her normal breathing pattern for when she was deeply asleep. The rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was awake! The woman was fully aware when he'd entered the room and while he readied for bed.
Berret waited. One microt then two, which slowly spanned into one full micron that slowly crawled into another micron, followed by an equally long next micron. Chiana remained silent, her breathing never changing or evening out and slowing toward sleep. Berret remained just as still, sure the Nebari woman knew just as he did that he laid there awake with her. Berret allowed the tightness that had worked it's way into his muscles when he realized the woman was still awake to drain away when it became certain that Chiana had no wish to pick up the discussion for the moment. He relaxed, as he knew that they would both lay there unmoving until sleep took them. Tomorrow was another day and either they would began the argument anew come morning or it would sit on the backburner... waiting the time for when they would have to finish it. That time wouldn't be tonight. After awhile Berret's eyes became heavy and he started to drift toward slumber. His last conscious thought being how sadly ironic it could be that their bodies were laying so close together but their souls were forced to be universes apart.
The humanoid male sailed up and over to land back first on the tavern table and crash through it. Berret growled low in his throat with barely contained fury and stalked forward, reaching for the unlucky being once again. A slim black-gloved hand gripped his bicep from behind and Chiana used all her force to spin the tall man around, forcing the Shrike to face her.
"What the frell did you do that for?" she demanded.
"You know why I did it," Berret spat back, forgetting for the moment the object of his ire. The man took advantage of the ex-assassin's distraction and started to crawl away from the quarrelling pair.
"We were just having a little fun," Chiana said.
"Exactly!" exclaimed Berret. "You were having fun and the rest of these fools think I am a joke because I walked in here with you. If one more of these kar'sh-damned narbs smirks at me - I will rip their frelling head off! I hated this place the first time we were here two cycles ago."
The Shrike glared at the rest of the patrons around them. The first time the crew visited this particular establishment was shortly sometime after Berret joined them on Moya. It quickly became apparent to the ex-assassin that most of the patrons enjoyed a game that involved breaking up partners who entered the nightspot together. The losing victim was often the blunt of ridicule by the victorious parties and their compatriots. That first time, Chiana had left with a patron for some recreation and when the man returned later that night to gloat over Berret's apparent lose of face in his eyes, he found out the hard way that the Shrike didn't take well to being ridiculed.
The Nebari girl crossed her arms stubbornly. "If I recall right... I wasn't the only one who left here with somebody else that night," she tossed back at him. Berret's eyes flared in anger with the accusation and he drew himself up to his full height to tower over the smaller Nebari woman. Chiana met his glare squarely and didn't back down.
"I..." Berret said coldly, "didn't leave here for the same reason you did."
"So that's how its gonna be?" Chiana asked in a hard low voice. "I never thought you would ever throw that up into my face." Chiana's eyes held no expression. Berret couldn't tell by her neutral stare what she was thinking or feeling. "You know my nature, I've never lied to you about that. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever been as honest with anyone else in my life as I have been with you. I can't believe that you would turn on me like that."
Berret was suddenly taken aback. With one poorly thought out sentence he'd managed to wound his best friend deeper then he ever deemed possible. Instead of becoming livid, her eyes took on an almost sad cast.
"You know... I wouldn't have to look for company elsewhere," she said, her tone reflecting the sadness in her eyes, "If you would be there for me."
Beret knew that was coming. Their disagreements of late always seemed to come back to this one point. Chiana had hinted and Zhaan had told him that there was something more between the Nebari woman and himself for a while. Finally the Delvian had explained about what truly happened to him when he was taken prisoner by small time criminals and tortured; and that part of his memory had been taken away in order to save his sanity as a result of the experience. The Priestess told him just prior to the abduction that he and Chiana had finally become lovers. Berret couldn't bring himself to believe that and insisted that Zhaan had to have been mistaken or had misunderstood something. He even feared that the Priestess had possibly seen one of the fantasies he sometime had about a life with Chiana during one of their Unity sessions and had mixed it up with something that might have happened in real life. The thought that Zhaan might know about one of his pitiful dreams was embarrassing to Berret. He may have issues with his emotions but he was not some teenage boy suffering through his first bout of what Crichton calls "puppy love" or a "schoolboy crush."
He'd had odd intimate encounters with Chiana but that had been more in line with her free-spirited nature, not something that could truly be called romantic or as meaningful as becoming lovers. He was sure that Chiana cared for him as a friend, but beyond that... any intimate contact they shared could surely only be on the level as a distraction or recreation for her. At times Berret thought about surreptitiously letting himself live the whimsy for a short time, but he was finding after awhile that the fantasy was beginning to wear heavily on him. There came a point when pretend wasn't enough anymore and the lack of the possibility of there ever being a reality... grew evermore depressing.
As much as he secretly craved the Nebari girl's affections he couldn't bare the lie he made for himself much longer... he was sure that somehow it would break him soon.
"I can't be one of your distractions," he told her. He waved one had around at the crowd around them that had gone back to their own diversions as soon as they realized that the show was over and that the irate Shrike wasn't going to pound further on the unfortunate customer who'd made the mistake of getting too chummy with the gray woman. "That is not in my nature. I'm not one of these mindless drones that waste all their time seeing who they can frell tonight."
"Is that what you think of me?" Chiana asked defensively.
"I don't really know what to think of you, Pixie," Berret thought silently to himself. "I only know what I can't have... and its slowly wearing me down." Outwardly he shook his head.
"You know better then to accuse me of that," he said.
"Do I?" Chiana threw in. "I thought I did, but it looks to me you're basically calling me a tralk." She planted both her small fists on her slim hips and glared up at him. "Why don't you just come out and say it? Go on; just say what you really mean... I'm a tralk." She cocked her head to one side and her eyes narrowed. "...Or do you prefer the term "slut"?"
Berret found he was becoming so aggravated that he wanted to break something, again... or maybe even kill something or someone. It made him even angrier as he had a certain feeling Chiana was right. That's exactly were his thoughts had been heading and he knew it. It made things worse that he wasn't so much mad as hurt by her actions with the unlucky patron. When the male patron had given him his sly grin of victory when he thought he'd succeed in winning Chiana's attentions away from him, it was easier to lash out at the man rather then the Nebari girl to ease his wounded feelings.
Chiana twisted her head the other way to view him from a different angle. She snorted in impatience waiting for his answer and scowled deeply. Berret was sure that at any microt she would begin tapping the toe of her boot in annoyance.
"I know exactly what and who you are," he told her, "I have always accepted that." An answer, but not exactly the black and white one Chiana had been anticipating. "If you had been expecting to seek out someone's company tonight then we should have come into this place separately to avoid these unnecessary frelling mind games," Berret went on to say.
Chiana looked at him quizzically, wondering if she'd just lost control of the conversation somewhere. She had worked herself up into a froth when she thought the Shrike was debasing her. She felt betrayed and drez it... she was mad at the man!
Berret gazed down at her and the fire seemed to drain from his eyes almost as if he were admitting defeat.
"Just this once," he said, his tone of voice now at a calmer level then just a few microts ago, "before you started playing... it would have been nice if you considered how I might be... feeling... about it."
Chiana paused almost stunned. She resisted the urge to rub at her ears to see if they were playing tricks on her. Had she just heard right? Did Berret just say he'd been hurt by her flirting with that other guy?
Her heart skipped a sudden beat as she thought that he might be remembering that night they'd spent together. It seemed so long ago and she'd almost given up hope that the memory would eventually surface again. Every night since then she had laid in bed imagining that it would suddenly all come back to him and he'd reach across the small space separating them and it would all be just like that night all over again. Every morning the disappointment grew a little larger until it seemed almost as insurmountable as that self imposed wall that Berret still kept his emotions behind. Their bodies could be a mere arm-length apart but their souls were universes away from each other. Chiana didn't know how much more she could take and it was wearing her thin, which is why she'd been so quick to argue with the man. At least she was finally getting some reaction from Berret for all her effort.
She looked up to ask the Shrike a question... hoping to hear him blurt out that the memory of what they shared that forgotten night was coming back. Too late she realized that Berret had pulled up the collar of the hated Peacekeeper overcoat as if he were getting ready to go outdoors and turned away from her. Before she could stop him, he was heading for the door of the establishment. Patrons wisely stepped out of his way fearing another repeat of the table breaking incident.
"Berret... wait," she called in a tiny voice as she realized he wasn't going to say what she hoped he would. She made as if to follow the Shrike but the club customers weren't as eager to move aside for her as they were for the taller man and he made it out the entrance without hearing her. The Nebari girl looked around the club in frustration. Several male patrons caught her glancing in their direction and hurriedly averted their eyes least they attract her attention. It was obvious they thought it best to play it safe in case the ex-assassin returned, and look for safer game elsewhere in the nightspot other then the gray woman.
Across the room, Sean slid a twenty-credit chip across the table to John with an acerbic grumble.
"Thank you," said the older Crichton with overabundant cheer as he scooped up the currency and pocketed it.
"I thought for sure that they'd slug it out right there," Sean complained.
John shook his head. "They've been building toward it for weekens, but I was reasonably sure Berret took all his frustration out on that table."
"Not to mention Chiana's new playmate," put in Andar with a grin, which earned him a light slap from Malika.
"The three of you should be ashamed of yourselves, wagering on their argument like that!" the Delvian snapped.
Andar looked over with surprise at his lovely blue friend. "Since when did you become Miss Sensitive all of a sudden?" he asked.
"I didn't," protested Malika. She then paused a moment to sneer and bare her perfect teeth at a male patron who was making eyes at her, obviously wondering if he could win her away from her table... and Andar. After the man cowered at her savage look she turned her full attention back to the ex-teacher. "It's just not right is all," she said trying to wave the question off and hoping for a change in subject. "You shouldn't enjoy another being's misery is all I'm saying."
Andar hid his slight frown by taking a drink from his mug of Raslek. He should have remembered that Malika might feel a little more compassionate toward Berret since the time she and Zhaan went into his mind to salvage his sanity. She never spoke of what they saw there... neither did Zhaan for that matter. But he'd noticed a change in the way the Delvian girl dealt with the Shrike afterwards. She's become more tolerant of the man and her comments were somewhat less full of spiteful barbs then before. She at times would still take the man to task for some things but Andar had noticed that there were also other things Malika let pass without comment. The older Crichton would have said that she was "cutting him a break."
Malika was saved from having to continue defending her statement by the return of Zhaan and D'argo to the table.
"You managed to take care of everything I take it?" asked Aeryn, who had stayed out of the discussion about their currently at odds crewmates on the dance floor.
"Yes," rumbled the Luxan, "We spoke with the owner... he will forget about the incident and not call law enforcement."
"It cost us 150 credits for the table and another 100 credits for the disturbance," put in Zhaan with a slight scowl.
John smiled slightly and shook his head. "It was your idea to let them go at it and have it out," he said.
"I don't know what you expected Berret would do, Zhaan?" added Aeryn. "You should have let us break it up before it went that far."
Zhaan sighed heavily as she and the warrior took their seats. She gazed over at Chiana who was still standing almost where Berret had left her looking lost.
"I know, Aeryn dear. But the two of them have to work this out on their own," said the Priestess. "If we interfere every time there is a problem... they will never mature."
"Well..." said Sean as he belted back the rest of his Raslek and then grimaced at the bottom of the mug. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to an alcoholic drink served hot. "I wish they'd hurry up and get it over with. I for one am tired of all the constant bickering and yelling."
Zhaan looked confused. "Chiana and Berret usually confine most of their more serious disagreements to in private," she said. "I wasn't aware that they were disturbing you, Sean?"
The young Crichton's eyes flew open in mock surprise. "Oh... I'm sorry," he deadpanned. "I was thinking of John and Aeryn. My mistake..."
From across the table, Aeryn lifted an eyebrow to indicate her un-amusement with Sean's wit while John groaned, then wadded up a wet napkin to throw at his relative.
Sean chuckled in glee as he dodged the wet projectile. Spying a comely female on the dance floor that he'd been eyeing most of the night, he noticed that she was openly staring in his direction. She gave him a pretty smile when she realized she had his attention - an open invitation if he ever saw one.
"Well, if you old foggies will excuse me, I have to go shake my boogie shoes now," he said as he left the table to join the girl.
Aeryn shook her head in wonder. "You humans are a strange lot," she said to John.
Crichton sat back in his chair and smiled as Sean started to dance with the young woman on the dance floor. "Naw," he said, "it's just that the Territories isn't ready for the Crichton charm yet."
Outside the nightclub Berret wondered which way he should go. He considered that it really didn't matter, as he simply just wanted to be away from the club... and Chiana for the moment. He thought that maybe he should have just gone back to the room but he had to scratch that idea now as he and the Nebari girl had shared one. Now he considered that he probably couldn't return to it later as he might walk in on her and whomever she might have picked up as her lover for the night, so he considered he would either have to get another room or spend the night in the Transport Pod. The notion of what Chiana might be doing later left a bitter feeling deep in the pit of his stomach and he tried to push the thought out of his mind. He alternated between a feeling of cold despair and hot rage at the reflection and he wanted to scream out his frustration at the jumble of emotions that raced through him. He hated this... he hated the feelings, the worry... the caring about things he knew he couldn't control and knowing that he had no right to even try inserting his influence if he had been able. Chiana was free to do as she pleased without having to explain herself to anyone... least of all him. He told himself that he knew this for a fact and totally understood how things stood. Still, he found himself longing for the times when something of this nature wouldn't have mattered to him. Goddess help him... sometimes he found himself wishing for the oblivion of the collar once again.
He grumbled to himself as he had the mental picture of D'argo sneering at him and labeling him a coward for having such thoughts of surrender. He pictured himself giving that imaginary Luxan what Crichton called the single finger salute in response. He didn't care any longer; he was just too tired anymore to care.
He realized he'd wandered across the street from the nightspot and someone had just called his name. He turned half expecting to see Chiana or one of his crewmates trailing him. He was just about to yell for them to go away when he realized the person calling him wasn't one of them.
"Berret?" called the woman who was approaching him, dragging a reluctant-looking male behind her.
At first the Shrike was at a lost as to who the woman could be, then she walked under a streetlamp and the light glared off her thick glass occulars.
"Chandra!" exclaimed Berret as he recognized the female he'd met before at the same tavern.
"I thought that was you," said the woman happily. "I wasn't sure with the new coat and all. I'm surprised to see you again. When did your ship get back in-system?"
"It's pleasant to see you again too," he replied. "We got in today. We're just stopping for a quick rest and some supplies."
"I'm glad I got a chance to run into you again," Chandra said. The man at her side shuffled his feet uneasily and Chandra giggled self-consciously at forgetting about him for the moment. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" she said. "Berret, this is my companion, Nealsonn. Nealsonn... this is my friend, Berret."
The Shrike greeted and brushed fingers with the wary Nealsonn. The look on his face was so plain that Berret was sure the other man thought he had designs on Chandra.
"Chandra and I are just friends," he said trying to reassure the man.
Chandra took Nealsonn's hand as she explained, "Berret and his crew are not from this sector. He had a bad run in with Trace the last time he was here and he doesn't really like their sort of games."
The man nodded but still didn't look convinced that Berret wouldn't try and take Chandra from him. He slipped an arm possessively over the woman's shoulder and regarded Berret with undisguised wary caution. Chandra's eyes lit up as she remembered something that might be of interest to her friend.
"Speaking of Trace," she said in a low voice as if they were conspirators. "I heard a few days later after we met the last time that somebody whose companion he stole-away beat the living grotz out of him in front of some of his friends. They say he was tossed around and thrown about like yesterday's garbage."
"You don't say?" said Berret feigning surprise. "I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later."
Chandra shook her head in agreement. "Yeah. I know it's a bad thing to condone violence but I just can't help being pleased seeing one of them get what's coming to them."
Berret just gave her a tight smile, hoping she didn't hear about his little table breaking party of a while ago. As luck would have it, a vaguely familiar annoying laugh sounded behind him as a group of people headed their way.
"Speak of the evil one himself," whispered Chandra with a slight nodded behind the Shrike. Inwardly Berret groaned. How could this frelling night get any worse he thought to himself?
A harsh barking bray sounded as Trace called out, "Nealsonn... my good friend!" The words were mocking with not even a hint of being sincere. Nealsonn tightened his hold around Chandra even more. "Chandra, you're looking especially lovely this evening. Maybe we can have a 'dance' later?"
Chandra frowned deeply as Trace and his cronies laughed out loud at the suggestive way Trace had said the word dance. Berret turned toward the arriving group. Seeing Trace's handsome face again made his anger flare. "He was with Chiana," was all Berret could think of. The gloom of the night lifted as his eyes turned silver from the microbe augmentation in reaction to his ever-degrading mood. Trace staggered to a halt as he recognized Berret while the Shrike fought to rein in the sudden urge to snap the man in two. He hoped the man didn't want to try and even the score by picking up where they last left off, as he wasn't sure how much control he would have over himself at that particular point of the disastrous night.
To Berret's relief, Trace's eyes shot wide open in dread and he swallowed hard.
"Y-Y-You!" stammered the man in shock. He began backing away making excuses to his friends as to why they should go to another nightspot with better entertainment across town. Confused, his companions followed him as he retraced their steps back the way they had just come, leaving the trio alone of the street corner once again.
"I wonder what that was all about?" asked a bewildered Chandra. Nealsonn shrugged his shoulders in reply.
"I don't know?" her companion said, but it was obvious Nealsonn was glad to see Trace gone.
Berret turned back to face Chandra and her date. The woman took an involuntary step backwards as she saw the silver fading from Berret's eyes.
"I see," Chandra said as she quickly got over the shock. Berret sighed as it became apparent that the small woman was putting two and two together. "Nealsonn?" she said turning to her date. "Would you mind giving Berret and me a few moments alone? I'll meet you inside the club shortly."
The man looked like he wasn't too happy to leave his date where the other man might charm her into walking off with him, but Chandra assured Nealsonn she had no intentions of leaving the nightspot with anyone else but him. Despite the pettiness of her date's jealousy, Chandra seemed to gather some sort of security from the fact that the man felt that way about her. Oddly, it looked to Berret that it made her very happy. Reluctantly the man turned to go. Before he made to cross the street, Berret called out to him.
"Nealsonn!"
The man turned back to face the Shrike, obviously wondering what the other man could want of him.
"Should you decide to leave here tonight with someone else... I will hunt you down, and hurt you very, very, badly," warned the ex-assassin.
Nealsonn looked momentarily stunned and then as if he wanted to say something, but then he thought about Trace's sudden fear at seeing Chandra's friend with his strange eyes and thought better of the idea. He nodded and then continued on his way, but still managed to cast a few odd glances back at the Shrike.
Chandra raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't mince words, do you?" she asked.
Berret gave her a forced smile. "Some people need to be reminded when they have something worth holding on to," he said. Chandra broke into a shy smile as she realized Berret had paid her a roundabout compliment.
"I'll give you that," she said softly as she folded her arms across her chest. She looked up at him with bright searching eyes. "Is there something you should be telling me?" she then asked expectantly.
Berret let out a pent up breath, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. At first he expected his friend to make a quick exit after witnessing the changing of his eyes. He found himself relieved when she didn't leave. To his further surprise, over the next few microns everything he'd held back from her at their first meeting came out. His past with the Syndicate as a collared assassin, his escape on Moya, his strained relationship with Chiana, and yes... even the tossing and throwing about of Trace the last time he was there. When he was finished, Chandra let out a low whistle in wonder.
"That is some story," she said. "You've certainly been through quite a bit."
"More then you expected to hear?" asked Berret glumly.
"Well, yeah. An assassin is the last thing I would have thought of when I first met you," she said. "I had a feeling you were hiding something but I just assumed it was you were married or running from a gambling debt... something normal. But the Syndicate! Wow!" She shook her head in amazement. "My friends at work will never believe this."
Berret looked up at her in alarm and frowned.
"Not that I would ever tell anyone," Chandra quickly added.
"It would be best if you didn't," Berret agreed. "I should never have told you any of this," he said in sudden regret.
Chandra patted his arm. "No. No, it's okay," she told him. "We're friends and I think you just needed a friend to talk to."
Berret chuckled lightly, "And who better then the woman who taught me to dance?"
Chandra beamed at him. "Right, who better?" she asked. "So I'm guessing you're feeling down because of your friend, Chiana? Am I right?"
Berret did a double take as his friend zeroed in at the source of his misery. He hadn't mentioned anything in particular about the Nebari woman being at the heart of his troubles but Chandra had picked up on something. He was just about to ask her how she came to that conclusion when the girl interrupted him.
"You didn't have to come out and say it," she said. "I could tell that first time that it bothered you when she had left with Trace, despite what you said about the two of you only being shipmates. I just thought it was obvious that you didn't want to talk about it so I didn't push anything."
Berret raised both eyebrows at her reasoning. "You are quite perceptive," he told her.
"It's a girl thing," Chandra replied with a dismissing shrug of her slim shoulders. "So what's different about this time that has you all bound up over her?"
Just as with their first meeting, Berret found himself relaxing with the tiny woman. She had found a nearby shop step to sit on and Berret joined her on it.
"I don't know," he said wistfully. "So many things have changed..."
When he didn't go on to elaborate further, Chandra took over the conversation once again.
"I see..." she said sagely and placed one hand over his. Smiling up at him reassuringly she continued, "Let me give you the same advice I give to my younger brother when he has woman problems..."
For the next half arn Berret listened to Chandra's words of wisdom, thankful for her effort but he quickly decided that his helpful friend didn't fully understand the scope of his problems. She had no way of knowing the horrors he'd committed for the Syndicate and he didn't have the heart or courage to attempt explaining them to her. Instead he nodded at the appropriate times in her lecture and told her that he felt better afterwards from her talk. He walked her back over to the entrance to the nightclub feeling self-conscious about the time he taken up from her date. They parted with a hug and a promise to meet up again the next time Moya was in-system. Chandra went inside to meet up with the waiting Nealsonn and Berret turned away and picked a direction away from the noisy establishment to walk in.
He found himself almost retracing the walk he and Chandra had taken almost two cycles before. He stopped at a park bench and sat for a few arns watching the stars flicker overhead. Occasionally a couple would walk by hand in hand oblivious to all but each other. Berret watched them stroll passed, knowing that such was not in his future. He did his best to convince himself that it really didn't matter and tried to deaden the ache that endeavored to restart itself in his heart. At one point he inwardly cursed at himself for feeling so foolish. He told himself that his destiny was to exact vengeance on Arckatius and to bring down the Scarren Syndicate House if he was able. He didn't have time to worry about midnight strolls or whispering sweet nothings under the moons' light. Death was his business. Death he had been forced to become and death he would always be. There was no room for anything else. In making him, Arckatius had made his own imminent demise. After the crime lord was dead it didn't matter if he died in the attempt or if another assassin like Val'Cirrus caught up to him eventually and finished her mission for her. He chuckled out loud at the ludicrous thought of meeting Arckatius again in Hezmana and spending the rest of eternity killing the Scarren over and over again till the end of all time. The dark mirth suddenly burst from his lips, startling a nearby pair of lovers who hadn't noticed him there on the bench. The slightly unhinged laughter unnerved the young couple and they got up and moved away from the man. Berret watched them walk away - hand in hand. "That's right, you bastard," he thought to himself, "You deserve to die over and over again for what you've taken from me."
The laughter abruptly died. Berret found himself imagining the simple feel of a smaller hand in his.
"Hand in hand," he muttered out loud to himself as the lovers rounded a curve in the park's walkway and disappeared from sight. "I'm not even allowed that."
Just before closing time the Shrike found himself back at the nightclub. Thinking that it was too late to head back to the landing port to the Transport Pod, he thought it best to return to the establishment and see about renting himself a room on the upper floors for the rest of the night. Tomorrow there would be the arduous task of loading supplies and he couldn't very well stay up all night on the park bench scaring couples looking for a place to be alone. To his surprise, John was still sitting by himself propped up at the table the group had occupied earlier, nursing a Terza Root tea. He came to a relaxed attention as the ex-assassin entered the almost now empty room. Berret dodged around a few employees cleaning up as Crichton waved him over. The ex-assassin thought the other human would have some cross words for him for leaving and making him wait up for his return but John just nodded nonchalantly at the Shrike as he came near.
"Glad to see you made it back," said John as he stifled a yawn and stretched his arms over his head to relieve a few knotted muscles. "I was just about to head up for some shut-eye myself," he lied.
Berret nodded back at him as he pulled out some of his credit chips and started to count out the price of renting a room for himself. Crichton watched him for a few microts, knowing what he was doing. Getting up from his chair he downed the last of his tea.
"Everyone else went upstairs an arn or two ago," he said as if in idle chatter, Berret nodded again that he was listening... still counting chips. John set the cup back down on the table.
"Chiana went upstairs too awhile ago... alone," he said meaningfully.
Berret paused in his counting to look up at the other man. John looked at him without saying anything more, still the human's eyes held their own message - "Don't be stupid."
A microt later John nodded as if satisfied about something and lightly slapped Berret on the shoulder.
"I'll see you in the mornin' J.B." John told him and then headed up the stairs.
"Good night, Crichton," replied Berret, really the first words he'd spoken since coming back in. He looked back down at the handful of credit chips, wondering if he should go ahead with his original plan to rent another room. It was obvious there was a purpose to John waiting up for him and informing him of Chiana's presence alone in their shared room. Still, he didn't relish the thought of possibly having to pick up their argument once again at this late arn if he went to the room.
He almost decided to get the new room anyway then thought there was no sense in wasting the money if Chiana was already sleeping. In that case they would either pick up the fighting tomorrow or they would both ignore it until the next time tempers got heated. He started up the stairs still jingling the chips in his open hand fully intending to go to the room. He halted once again with the return of the thought that "What IF Chiana WAS still up?" and almost decided to go back down and rent the room after all.
He took one step back down the staircase then cursed himself for his indecision. He abruptly shoved the counted out credits into one pocket where he knew where they were and decided he would go to the room and if the Nebari girl was awake and wanted to continue the argument, he could just as simply leave and then rent another room.
He opened the room's door as quietly as he was able, feeling a little foolish for creeping into someplace he had a reasonable right to be. The room was dark except for a single light left on to the right side of the large bed. On the left side was a motionless shape under a mound of blankets. Berret felt himself relax with relief that Chiana was asleep instead of awake and took off his overcoat to drape it over a chair with his pistol belt. He considered that she might have left the light on the opposite side of the bed so that he might be able to see should he return, not that with the microbes that he really needed the light to see. That thought made him pause. Perhaps she hadn't left the light on as a courtesy to him after all; maybe she'd left it on the better to ambush him when he returned... meaning to continue the fighting. Nothing he could do about it now as he'd already walked blindly into the trap. If she were going to spring it, she would spring it.
He sat down on his side of the bed waiting for something to happen. When the lump under the covers on the other side didn't move to pounce on him, he concluded that Chiana was indeed asleep. He removed his boots and some of his outer clothing to get comfortable and shoved the pulse pistol between the mattress layers where he could get at it if he needed. He reached over and shut the light off and lay back on his pillow. He started up at the ceiling in the darkness wondering what would happen when Chiana awoke the next day. He decided to not think about it anymore and rolled over to settle into sleep. He'd automatically rolled to face the woman under the blankets when he became aware of it. He froze as he mentally beat himself for not sensing it sooner. Chiana didn't have her normal breathing pattern for when she was deeply asleep. The rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was awake! The woman was fully aware when he'd entered the room and while he readied for bed.
Berret waited. One microt then two, which slowly spanned into one full micron that slowly crawled into another micron, followed by an equally long next micron. Chiana remained silent, her breathing never changing or evening out and slowing toward sleep. Berret remained just as still, sure the Nebari woman knew just as he did that he laid there awake with her. Berret allowed the tightness that had worked it's way into his muscles when he realized the woman was still awake to drain away when it became certain that Chiana had no wish to pick up the discussion for the moment. He relaxed, as he knew that they would both lay there unmoving until sleep took them. Tomorrow was another day and either they would began the argument anew come morning or it would sit on the backburner... waiting the time for when they would have to finish it. That time wouldn't be tonight. After awhile Berret's eyes became heavy and he started to drift toward slumber. His last conscious thought being how sadly ironic it could be that their bodies were laying so close together but their souls were forced to be universes apart.