Kisses She Gave Him Three
by ISJ
Disclaimer: ISJ does not own Treasure Planet or anything copyrighted to the Walt Disney Company. This fic is purely not-for-profit. And the title is semi-borrowed from a song by Nickel Creek. Enjoy!
The night was cold and silent, the quiet so strange for Montressor spaceport, a usually bustling center of activity and charisma. Even the late hours past midnight could be described as waking hours for over half the citizens of the city. But now that the hands of the town's clocks had crept into the expanse between three and four o'clock, sound and movement and light had abandoned the streets and cloistered away into buildings and homes, chased away by the pervasive, gloomy cold that had crept along the flagstones and now huddled in lonely alleyways, ready to attack unsuspecting passerby.
Captain James Hawkins was one of the very few passerby this night, but he was not naïve to the chill or the danger that lurked along his solitary path. Montressor spaceport had been his home for over a year now; he knew by heart its ways and rhythms and paths, though rambling down Main Street, alone, at such a late hour (or, early hour, depending upon how one looked at the issue) was certainly not one of his habits. A late appointment with a rather eccentric (and currently rather drunk) prospective employer had forced this cold late-night walk.
What really annoyed Jim was the fact that, despite his excellence at captainship, the sacrifice of a decent night's sleep had still failed to result in a job contract. Stupid drunk, probably wouldn't have honored any contract he might have signed, anyway. Jim pushed his hands a little farther into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the cold, and continued to make his way toward his tiny apartment down the street.
A sudden loud clang, crash! jerked him from his sullen reverie. He stopped dead, his head swiveling rapidly toward the alleyway to his left, and he moved his hand instinctively toward the blaster pistol at his hip. He shifted his weight back, peering intently into the darkened space. There was a flutter of movement; Jim eased the pistol from its holster, beginning to raise it...
"Wait, Jim! It's me!" A muttered oath heralded the appearance of a slight figure slipping from the alley. Jim lowered his pistol and shoved it back into its leather straps, annoyed.
"It's a little late, Dyanna, don't you think?" he asked dryly. The figure dusted herself off and looked up at the captain, fully a head taller than she, flashing him a shockingly white grin. Her eyes glittered in the half- light.
"Naw, the night is young." He saw her grin twist into a non-smile. "And, incidentally, the pickings are very slim this evening. Must have been a slow night at the taverns; the Golden Sickle usually has plenty of extra food just waiting for me to lift, but not tonight."
Jim tried and failed to ignore the note of fear underlying her light tone. He was aware that she had no idea of when her next meal would be if she could not acquire some food during the night. She was lying about the ease with which she fed herself, of course. Her almost gaunt frame testified loudly that she rarely had food 'just waiting' for her. Jim knew for a fact that she struggled for every crumb that sustained her.
Three months ago, Jim had caught Dyanna Wynn trying to lighten his pockets in Montressor Square. Somehow, she had managed not only to convince Jim not to turn her in to the proper authorities, but also to let her keep some of the coins of which she had relieved him to buy bread. Even now, Jim was not quite sure why he had done it, but over the time between then and now he had learned that Dyanna was not a simple criminal with no respect for the law. An orphan, she stole only enough to keep her alive, never taking so much from a wealthy pocket as a penk that she did not immediately need, never pilfering more food than she could consume in two or three mouthfuls.
Jim and Dyanna had seemed to keep running into each other after their first meeting, though Jim felt certain it was by her design. Every time they met, they talked, swapping life histories and anecdotes to cheer the other when they'd had a bad week. Dyanna had never tried to steal from him again, and, indeed, never asked him for anything; she was fiercely loyal, and would never have betrayed him now that they were bound by some semblance of friendship. To take advantage of this friendship by picking his pockets would have been an insult to her own pride. But when he could, Jim had brought along a few extra coins to buy her a meal, unable to bear the injustice of her hunger. She had done nothing foolish or wrong to merit a life on the streets; her parents had orphaned her at a young age and she had never known any other life than the one she know led.
Over time, their meetings had only become more frequent. Now Jim saw her almost every evening as he returned to his apartment.
Jim sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was late...he needed to sleep. But one look at Dyanna's pale face, currently wearing a rather forced look of nonchalance, convinced Jim that she needed food more desperately than he needed rest.
"Well, come on then," Jim said, turning and continuing down the street. Dyanna blinked, then sprinted to catch him up.
"Uh, Jim? Where are we going? You said yourself it was late."
He glanced over at her, then looked forward again. "We're going back to my place, to get some food in you before you wither away to nothing."
Dyanna frowned. "Jim, you really don't have to-"
"I know. That's why I'm doing it."
Before she could argue further, they had arrived in front of the building in question. Jim led Dyanna up a long set of steps on the outside of the building, then unlocked the door to his home and beckoned her inside.
The lights immediately flared to life, making them both blink. Jim prodded Dyanna aside so that he could shut the door. For her part, Dyanna seemed quite overwhelmed, standing silent in the middle of the front room floor, hugging herself and looking lost. Jim realized with a start that it was the first time she had been inside a house since she was a little girl of about five, over twelve years ago.
"You can sit down somewhere, in here, or in the kitchen. It'll be warmer in the kitchen." Jim said softly, trying to put her at ease. He went to the kitchen himself, kicking his boots off into a corner and dropping his coat onto one of the two ancient wooden chairs that stood next to his minute kitchen table. He opened the refrigeration unit that buzzed noisily with age next to the rust-smattered cooking range and peered inside. He heard a shuffling sound and glanced back to see Dyanna sink into one of the chairs, still looking around her as if she didn't quite know what to do.
"What sounds like chow?" he asked her, turning from the icebox with a crooked grin on his face and several boxes of frozen food in hand. "We've got 'Fried Gorak Fish Filets,' 'Roasted Minced Madnar Meat,' and...some vegetables or somethin'. Any preferences?"
"None whatsoever. As long as it once resembled food, I'll take it."
"Right then." Jim threw all three boxes into the radiator oven and turned the power on 'high.' He grabbed a loaf of bread and cut it hastily into uneven slices, then set it out on the table with some mismatched but clean cutlery. These were followed almost immediately by bowls of the now-cooked meat and veggies.
Jim plopped down into the other chair. "Eat hearty."
Dyanna's bright blue eyes widened at the sight of all the food. "Jim, you-"
He waved her off and pushed one of the bowls toward her, snatching a slice of bread for himself and munching away on it to show her to start eating. She tucked in with fervor. She kept telling him to eat some, but he assured her truthfully that he wasn't hungry.
They began to talk and laugh as they usually did when they got together, Jim forcing himself not to yawn. He ran his fingers through his already- scruffy brown hair to keep himself awake, but what he mostly accomplished was to make Dyanna laugh at his dishevelment.
He noticed for the first time just how nice her laugh was. He rarely heard her laugh, and had forgotten what it sounded like. Food in her belly had perked her up a great deal, it seemed; her eyes brightened and she became still more animated, even as he himself was trying not to nod off.
Dyanna suddenly cut off mid-sentence and looked up at Jim with concern. "Jim, you're practically falling asleep on the table! Why didn't you shut me up?"
Jim blinked, yawning mightily. "Erm...no big deal...I'm just...kinda..."
"You're exhausted, and I'm going on like an idiot." She stood and went to his side, lifting him from his seat half-asleep. "Come on, Captain Hawkins. It's your bedtime."
"I can...make it...m'self."
"Yeah, make it to the floor. Move your feet, that's it. Up the stairs...no, not right, left, your pillow's in here. There you go." Dyanna uncurled his limp arm from where she had slung it around her own neck and let him flop to his squeaky bed. Jim yawned again, stirring from his stupor, and gently grabbed hold of her wrist as she turned away.
"Rmm, Dyanna, you can sleep on the couch downstairs. Here, take this blanket." He pulled one from under the bed and stuffed it unceremoniously into Dyanna's hands.
The girl gaped at him. "Jim, I couldn't possibly do that. I was going to leave, of course I must go."
Jim sank down to his slightly lumpy pillow as he mumbled almost incoherently, "Look, 'm too...tired to...argue. Just take the couch and don't...be...so stubborn..." And he was dead to the world.
Dyanna smiled at his fluffed hair and gaping mouth. His legs still hung over the side of the bed, so she poked him in the side to make him draw his feet up and pulled his blanket over him. Chalk-white moonlight fell onto his face from the window above his bed and illuminated the dark circles under his lidded eyes, throwing the faint worry lines that had begun to form on his brow into stark relief.
Dyanna just watched him for a moment, watched his frame rise and fall in steady rhythm. He was something really special; he'd somehow seen something in her that not even she knew she had. She greatly admired him. She had always thought he was quite handsome, from the very first time she saw him as he whirled on her, catching her in the act of picking his pocket. But he was aging far before his time; space and the life that went with it did that to young men. She pushed a little of his hair off his forehead and smoothed the line in his brow away with one long, thin finger. He sighed in his sleep and she jerked away, but he only closed his mouth and fell back into stillness.
The orphan girl smiled again and turned away, but she paused, glancing back at Jim, and, knowing at once that she was foolish but that she may never have such a chance again, she crept back to his bedside, leaned down, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good night, Jim," she breathed, then whispered something very softly in his ear.
She then quickly went down the stairway, blanket in hand, and made herself very comfortable on the couch, the first bed she had slept in for over a decade.
~~~~~~
"I love you..."
The words came from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding him and filling him as he lay suspended between darkness and light. Jim was very vaguely aware of a light touch on his cheek, and of a shuffling footstep fading away, but he was caught in a half-dream, and so did not try to fight the haze that filled his mind. He only gave himself to the three endlessly echoing words, sensing and knowing and almost tasting their sweetness as he slipped fully into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~
Jim started from his sleep, sitting up sharply, only to groan and flop back again without fully opening his eyes. Uhg, it was too early to be awake. He cracked one eye open a fraction. The blasted sun wasn't even up yet; he could see the predawn glow tingeing the low clouds a pinkish hue. Then he squeezed his eye shut again and tried to go back to sleep. Just a little longer...noon sounded good.
His body had other ideas. He was awake now and he wasn't going back to sleep; a sudden cramp in his back assured that. He groaned again and turned over. No good. Turned over again...WHUMP! Right off the bed.
Jim bit his tongue to keep from swearing, not that whatever he might have said would have come out right anyway. He lay there, helpless, for a few more moments, toying with the idea of just going back to sleep right here. Then he dragged his hands and knees under him and forced himself unsteadily to his feet.
He staggered down the stairs to the front room, yawning and stretching and rubbing his eyes and yawning again. He glanced groggily over at the front window, blinking in the gathering light, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of a bundle of blanket curled up on his couch. Then memory of Dyanna and the previous night trickled back into his hazy mind, causing him to fully awake.
Jim grinned at Dyanna's shoulder-length honey hair sprawled haphazardly across the couch cushion. He tiptoed across the room to shade the window so Dyanna could sleep as long as she could. As he neared, he noticed the early morning light seemed to make her pale face glow with brightness and color. Her usual tired pallor had been transformed by the pink and gold dawn, and the transformation was remarkable. She was...quite pretty. He'd never thought her ugly, but now he saw she was beautiful. Her hard life had stolen her natural fairness and turned her into a shell. But Jim knew, had always known, that somewhere deep inside her resided a lady of far greater caliber than the orphan girl she had been forced to be.
Jim watched her sleep, listened to her soft breathing. He wished there was something he could do to help her besides buy her an occasional meal, something more for him to offer besides a few coins now and then. He reached down involuntarily and brushed a tendril of hair away from her sleeping eyes, rubbing at a smudge of dirt on her temple. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, his hand resting on her arm.
Hesitating a moment, and knowing he should simply stand and go make some breakfast, Jim leaned slowly down and gave her a feathery kiss on her cheek. Tipping his head, he whispered something softly in her ear, relishing the warmth of her cheek next to his.
~~~~~~
"I love you..."
The whisper filled her mind, starting as merely a breath and growing to a rushing wind. It swept Dyanna right along with it. The words were a melody in her mind, a precious song that tugged at her heart. She had not heard those words for so long...so long. The honey-sweet melody pulled her, up and up, back through the levels of consciousness and awareness to hearing, and touch, and, finally, to sight as she slowly opened her eyes.
~~~~~~
Jim pulled away as he felt her stir. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking several times in the morning light, and focused on his face, glittering like gems.
"Good morning," she said quietly.
Jim blushed and looked out the window. "I'm sorry...sorry I woke you up." He moved to stand, but she put her hand on his and pulled him back down beside her.
"Don't go," she said, so he sat again, looking intently into her face. She sighed, blinking slowly, then looked into his eyes, startling him.
"Did you sleep well? You obviously didn't rest long."
"I was like a dead man. You?"
Dyanna grinned. "Same here." She watched him for another moment. "How long were you here before I woke up?"
Jim went pink again. "Not very. I came over to close the shade, and I got distracted."
"Distracted by what?"
He bit his lip, but only paused for a second. He had become very outspoken since leaving the academy last year; he'd learned that if something needed to be said, you had to say it yourself or risk losing the chance.
"By you."
Dyanna blinked, her eyes widening. "M-me?"
Jim cocked his head to one side and brushed her cheek with his forefinger. "Yeah, you. The sunlight makes you look like an angel. Very becoming, very distracting."
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I must remember that in future. Stand in pools of sunlight. Check."
Jim leaned down over her again, staring straight into her liquid blue eyes, very close to his own. "You don't need the sunlight. You're pretty without it."
"No, I'm not."
"I don't lie."
She was silent, so Jim took advantage of her dumbness and kissed her gently.
When he pulled away, Dyanna sighed, leaning her face against his hand. "Surely I'm not that pretty?"
Jim rested his forehead against hers. "No?" And he kissed her again, deeper this time.
She searched his eyes when he moved away again, anxiously. Then she relaxed, the corner of her mouth curling up in a smile. "Well, maybe I was wrong. Error on my part has happened before. Rarely, but it has happened."
Jim scowled. "You were much more pleasant asleep."
"Really?" He nodded. Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as though her life depended on it. "Still think so?"
"Mmm...I'll have to think about it."
"Over breakfast?"
"Only if you make it."
"You got a death wish?"
"Good point. So what sounds like chow?"
by ISJ
Disclaimer: ISJ does not own Treasure Planet or anything copyrighted to the Walt Disney Company. This fic is purely not-for-profit. And the title is semi-borrowed from a song by Nickel Creek. Enjoy!
The night was cold and silent, the quiet so strange for Montressor spaceport, a usually bustling center of activity and charisma. Even the late hours past midnight could be described as waking hours for over half the citizens of the city. But now that the hands of the town's clocks had crept into the expanse between three and four o'clock, sound and movement and light had abandoned the streets and cloistered away into buildings and homes, chased away by the pervasive, gloomy cold that had crept along the flagstones and now huddled in lonely alleyways, ready to attack unsuspecting passerby.
Captain James Hawkins was one of the very few passerby this night, but he was not naïve to the chill or the danger that lurked along his solitary path. Montressor spaceport had been his home for over a year now; he knew by heart its ways and rhythms and paths, though rambling down Main Street, alone, at such a late hour (or, early hour, depending upon how one looked at the issue) was certainly not one of his habits. A late appointment with a rather eccentric (and currently rather drunk) prospective employer had forced this cold late-night walk.
What really annoyed Jim was the fact that, despite his excellence at captainship, the sacrifice of a decent night's sleep had still failed to result in a job contract. Stupid drunk, probably wouldn't have honored any contract he might have signed, anyway. Jim pushed his hands a little farther into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the cold, and continued to make his way toward his tiny apartment down the street.
A sudden loud clang, crash! jerked him from his sullen reverie. He stopped dead, his head swiveling rapidly toward the alleyway to his left, and he moved his hand instinctively toward the blaster pistol at his hip. He shifted his weight back, peering intently into the darkened space. There was a flutter of movement; Jim eased the pistol from its holster, beginning to raise it...
"Wait, Jim! It's me!" A muttered oath heralded the appearance of a slight figure slipping from the alley. Jim lowered his pistol and shoved it back into its leather straps, annoyed.
"It's a little late, Dyanna, don't you think?" he asked dryly. The figure dusted herself off and looked up at the captain, fully a head taller than she, flashing him a shockingly white grin. Her eyes glittered in the half- light.
"Naw, the night is young." He saw her grin twist into a non-smile. "And, incidentally, the pickings are very slim this evening. Must have been a slow night at the taverns; the Golden Sickle usually has plenty of extra food just waiting for me to lift, but not tonight."
Jim tried and failed to ignore the note of fear underlying her light tone. He was aware that she had no idea of when her next meal would be if she could not acquire some food during the night. She was lying about the ease with which she fed herself, of course. Her almost gaunt frame testified loudly that she rarely had food 'just waiting' for her. Jim knew for a fact that she struggled for every crumb that sustained her.
Three months ago, Jim had caught Dyanna Wynn trying to lighten his pockets in Montressor Square. Somehow, she had managed not only to convince Jim not to turn her in to the proper authorities, but also to let her keep some of the coins of which she had relieved him to buy bread. Even now, Jim was not quite sure why he had done it, but over the time between then and now he had learned that Dyanna was not a simple criminal with no respect for the law. An orphan, she stole only enough to keep her alive, never taking so much from a wealthy pocket as a penk that she did not immediately need, never pilfering more food than she could consume in two or three mouthfuls.
Jim and Dyanna had seemed to keep running into each other after their first meeting, though Jim felt certain it was by her design. Every time they met, they talked, swapping life histories and anecdotes to cheer the other when they'd had a bad week. Dyanna had never tried to steal from him again, and, indeed, never asked him for anything; she was fiercely loyal, and would never have betrayed him now that they were bound by some semblance of friendship. To take advantage of this friendship by picking his pockets would have been an insult to her own pride. But when he could, Jim had brought along a few extra coins to buy her a meal, unable to bear the injustice of her hunger. She had done nothing foolish or wrong to merit a life on the streets; her parents had orphaned her at a young age and she had never known any other life than the one she know led.
Over time, their meetings had only become more frequent. Now Jim saw her almost every evening as he returned to his apartment.
Jim sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was late...he needed to sleep. But one look at Dyanna's pale face, currently wearing a rather forced look of nonchalance, convinced Jim that she needed food more desperately than he needed rest.
"Well, come on then," Jim said, turning and continuing down the street. Dyanna blinked, then sprinted to catch him up.
"Uh, Jim? Where are we going? You said yourself it was late."
He glanced over at her, then looked forward again. "We're going back to my place, to get some food in you before you wither away to nothing."
Dyanna frowned. "Jim, you really don't have to-"
"I know. That's why I'm doing it."
Before she could argue further, they had arrived in front of the building in question. Jim led Dyanna up a long set of steps on the outside of the building, then unlocked the door to his home and beckoned her inside.
The lights immediately flared to life, making them both blink. Jim prodded Dyanna aside so that he could shut the door. For her part, Dyanna seemed quite overwhelmed, standing silent in the middle of the front room floor, hugging herself and looking lost. Jim realized with a start that it was the first time she had been inside a house since she was a little girl of about five, over twelve years ago.
"You can sit down somewhere, in here, or in the kitchen. It'll be warmer in the kitchen." Jim said softly, trying to put her at ease. He went to the kitchen himself, kicking his boots off into a corner and dropping his coat onto one of the two ancient wooden chairs that stood next to his minute kitchen table. He opened the refrigeration unit that buzzed noisily with age next to the rust-smattered cooking range and peered inside. He heard a shuffling sound and glanced back to see Dyanna sink into one of the chairs, still looking around her as if she didn't quite know what to do.
"What sounds like chow?" he asked her, turning from the icebox with a crooked grin on his face and several boxes of frozen food in hand. "We've got 'Fried Gorak Fish Filets,' 'Roasted Minced Madnar Meat,' and...some vegetables or somethin'. Any preferences?"
"None whatsoever. As long as it once resembled food, I'll take it."
"Right then." Jim threw all three boxes into the radiator oven and turned the power on 'high.' He grabbed a loaf of bread and cut it hastily into uneven slices, then set it out on the table with some mismatched but clean cutlery. These were followed almost immediately by bowls of the now-cooked meat and veggies.
Jim plopped down into the other chair. "Eat hearty."
Dyanna's bright blue eyes widened at the sight of all the food. "Jim, you-"
He waved her off and pushed one of the bowls toward her, snatching a slice of bread for himself and munching away on it to show her to start eating. She tucked in with fervor. She kept telling him to eat some, but he assured her truthfully that he wasn't hungry.
They began to talk and laugh as they usually did when they got together, Jim forcing himself not to yawn. He ran his fingers through his already- scruffy brown hair to keep himself awake, but what he mostly accomplished was to make Dyanna laugh at his dishevelment.
He noticed for the first time just how nice her laugh was. He rarely heard her laugh, and had forgotten what it sounded like. Food in her belly had perked her up a great deal, it seemed; her eyes brightened and she became still more animated, even as he himself was trying not to nod off.
Dyanna suddenly cut off mid-sentence and looked up at Jim with concern. "Jim, you're practically falling asleep on the table! Why didn't you shut me up?"
Jim blinked, yawning mightily. "Erm...no big deal...I'm just...kinda..."
"You're exhausted, and I'm going on like an idiot." She stood and went to his side, lifting him from his seat half-asleep. "Come on, Captain Hawkins. It's your bedtime."
"I can...make it...m'self."
"Yeah, make it to the floor. Move your feet, that's it. Up the stairs...no, not right, left, your pillow's in here. There you go." Dyanna uncurled his limp arm from where she had slung it around her own neck and let him flop to his squeaky bed. Jim yawned again, stirring from his stupor, and gently grabbed hold of her wrist as she turned away.
"Rmm, Dyanna, you can sleep on the couch downstairs. Here, take this blanket." He pulled one from under the bed and stuffed it unceremoniously into Dyanna's hands.
The girl gaped at him. "Jim, I couldn't possibly do that. I was going to leave, of course I must go."
Jim sank down to his slightly lumpy pillow as he mumbled almost incoherently, "Look, 'm too...tired to...argue. Just take the couch and don't...be...so stubborn..." And he was dead to the world.
Dyanna smiled at his fluffed hair and gaping mouth. His legs still hung over the side of the bed, so she poked him in the side to make him draw his feet up and pulled his blanket over him. Chalk-white moonlight fell onto his face from the window above his bed and illuminated the dark circles under his lidded eyes, throwing the faint worry lines that had begun to form on his brow into stark relief.
Dyanna just watched him for a moment, watched his frame rise and fall in steady rhythm. He was something really special; he'd somehow seen something in her that not even she knew she had. She greatly admired him. She had always thought he was quite handsome, from the very first time she saw him as he whirled on her, catching her in the act of picking his pocket. But he was aging far before his time; space and the life that went with it did that to young men. She pushed a little of his hair off his forehead and smoothed the line in his brow away with one long, thin finger. He sighed in his sleep and she jerked away, but he only closed his mouth and fell back into stillness.
The orphan girl smiled again and turned away, but she paused, glancing back at Jim, and, knowing at once that she was foolish but that she may never have such a chance again, she crept back to his bedside, leaned down, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good night, Jim," she breathed, then whispered something very softly in his ear.
She then quickly went down the stairway, blanket in hand, and made herself very comfortable on the couch, the first bed she had slept in for over a decade.
~~~~~~
"I love you..."
The words came from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding him and filling him as he lay suspended between darkness and light. Jim was very vaguely aware of a light touch on his cheek, and of a shuffling footstep fading away, but he was caught in a half-dream, and so did not try to fight the haze that filled his mind. He only gave himself to the three endlessly echoing words, sensing and knowing and almost tasting their sweetness as he slipped fully into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~
Jim started from his sleep, sitting up sharply, only to groan and flop back again without fully opening his eyes. Uhg, it was too early to be awake. He cracked one eye open a fraction. The blasted sun wasn't even up yet; he could see the predawn glow tingeing the low clouds a pinkish hue. Then he squeezed his eye shut again and tried to go back to sleep. Just a little longer...noon sounded good.
His body had other ideas. He was awake now and he wasn't going back to sleep; a sudden cramp in his back assured that. He groaned again and turned over. No good. Turned over again...WHUMP! Right off the bed.
Jim bit his tongue to keep from swearing, not that whatever he might have said would have come out right anyway. He lay there, helpless, for a few more moments, toying with the idea of just going back to sleep right here. Then he dragged his hands and knees under him and forced himself unsteadily to his feet.
He staggered down the stairs to the front room, yawning and stretching and rubbing his eyes and yawning again. He glanced groggily over at the front window, blinking in the gathering light, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of a bundle of blanket curled up on his couch. Then memory of Dyanna and the previous night trickled back into his hazy mind, causing him to fully awake.
Jim grinned at Dyanna's shoulder-length honey hair sprawled haphazardly across the couch cushion. He tiptoed across the room to shade the window so Dyanna could sleep as long as she could. As he neared, he noticed the early morning light seemed to make her pale face glow with brightness and color. Her usual tired pallor had been transformed by the pink and gold dawn, and the transformation was remarkable. She was...quite pretty. He'd never thought her ugly, but now he saw she was beautiful. Her hard life had stolen her natural fairness and turned her into a shell. But Jim knew, had always known, that somewhere deep inside her resided a lady of far greater caliber than the orphan girl she had been forced to be.
Jim watched her sleep, listened to her soft breathing. He wished there was something he could do to help her besides buy her an occasional meal, something more for him to offer besides a few coins now and then. He reached down involuntarily and brushed a tendril of hair away from her sleeping eyes, rubbing at a smudge of dirt on her temple. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch, his hand resting on her arm.
Hesitating a moment, and knowing he should simply stand and go make some breakfast, Jim leaned slowly down and gave her a feathery kiss on her cheek. Tipping his head, he whispered something softly in her ear, relishing the warmth of her cheek next to his.
~~~~~~
"I love you..."
The whisper filled her mind, starting as merely a breath and growing to a rushing wind. It swept Dyanna right along with it. The words were a melody in her mind, a precious song that tugged at her heart. She had not heard those words for so long...so long. The honey-sweet melody pulled her, up and up, back through the levels of consciousness and awareness to hearing, and touch, and, finally, to sight as she slowly opened her eyes.
~~~~~~
Jim pulled away as he felt her stir. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking several times in the morning light, and focused on his face, glittering like gems.
"Good morning," she said quietly.
Jim blushed and looked out the window. "I'm sorry...sorry I woke you up." He moved to stand, but she put her hand on his and pulled him back down beside her.
"Don't go," she said, so he sat again, looking intently into her face. She sighed, blinking slowly, then looked into his eyes, startling him.
"Did you sleep well? You obviously didn't rest long."
"I was like a dead man. You?"
Dyanna grinned. "Same here." She watched him for another moment. "How long were you here before I woke up?"
Jim went pink again. "Not very. I came over to close the shade, and I got distracted."
"Distracted by what?"
He bit his lip, but only paused for a second. He had become very outspoken since leaving the academy last year; he'd learned that if something needed to be said, you had to say it yourself or risk losing the chance.
"By you."
Dyanna blinked, her eyes widening. "M-me?"
Jim cocked his head to one side and brushed her cheek with his forefinger. "Yeah, you. The sunlight makes you look like an angel. Very becoming, very distracting."
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I must remember that in future. Stand in pools of sunlight. Check."
Jim leaned down over her again, staring straight into her liquid blue eyes, very close to his own. "You don't need the sunlight. You're pretty without it."
"No, I'm not."
"I don't lie."
She was silent, so Jim took advantage of her dumbness and kissed her gently.
When he pulled away, Dyanna sighed, leaning her face against his hand. "Surely I'm not that pretty?"
Jim rested his forehead against hers. "No?" And he kissed her again, deeper this time.
She searched his eyes when he moved away again, anxiously. Then she relaxed, the corner of her mouth curling up in a smile. "Well, maybe I was wrong. Error on my part has happened before. Rarely, but it has happened."
Jim scowled. "You were much more pleasant asleep."
"Really?" He nodded. Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as though her life depended on it. "Still think so?"
"Mmm...I'll have to think about it."
"Over breakfast?"
"Only if you make it."
"You got a death wish?"
"Good point. So what sounds like chow?"