TITLE: Mercury
AUTHOR: Vicinity
SUMMARY: The idea of redemption leads Yves - and Jimmy - into the heart of something more dangerous than she could have imagined. Formerly titled "The Immortality Solution."
RATING:
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine.
SPOILERS: Takes place after "Jump the Shark." Makes reference to another one of my stories, "Madrigal."
AUTHOR's NOTES:
****************************************************************************
She blinks slowly, trying to regain her sense of balance, and then she realizes that she is on the floor. He is bending over her and then she realizes that she can feel his hands on her shoulders. He is saying something. "Yves?"
She shivers slightly. "What?"
"What was - are you okay? Should I call an ambulance? What was that?" his words come out in a rush.
"I'm fine. No. Just let me up." He obliges and she tenses under his scrutiny, making every effort not to let the residual tingling throughout her body show on her face as she sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. She thinks that she should feel humiliated, but she just feels tired. Glad that it wasn't anywhere else. That only he saw. She wonders how she will explain it to him.
He kneels in front of her on the floor. "What is it?"
She sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. "I don't know. I think it's related to whatever was on Matthew's knife. I don't know."
"It's happened before?" he asks, and she wonders how he could tell and why she can hide from everyone else but him.
"Once," she says quietly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is gentle, but she thinks that there is something else - hurt, maybe. Disappointment.
"I didn't want you to worry." I didn't want to make it real . . . "I don't know anything about it. There's no reason for the both of us to worry about it."
He is silent for a moment, and then he touches her hand lightly. "I want to help, Yves. You know that." She is suddenly acutely aware of the damp coldness on her back, the brisk temperature of the room, the fact that she is wearing only her robe.
"I know," she says. "And it doesn't matter anymore."
"It does. We have to find out what it was, why . . . and what happened. Yves, the way you fell . . . I thought . . ."
"I know," she answers. "I saw. I watched it." He looks at her quizzically until she continues. "The last time was different. It was just a - tingling. This time it was more. This time, I think I know what it was."
"What?" he questions immediately.
She stares down at the hand he still holds, the way his larger one envelops it. "They were working on immortality," she says. "They were studying nanotechnology. They were creating machines that would do whatever they want." She looks up to meet his eyes. "I think that's what was on the blade. What is now . . . in me." She waits until she sees that he understands. "What happened to me?" she whispers, more to herself than to him, and then he wraps his arms around her, holding her against his body. She thinks that she should pull away, should push him back, but instead she leans into him, allowing him to support her.
After a few moments he releases her. "Yves," he says softly. "I'm sorry." It is such a simple phrase, so overused that it should seem trite, but it doesn't. She nods.
"Well," she swallows. "I think that's about it."
He nods. "For now. We'll work on it in the morning, hm? Both of us." He touches her shoulder lightly. "Right?"
"Right," she echoes, and then he smiles. The door closes behind him and she lies back on the bed. She wonders what he would do if she left during the night, and she wonders when he began to let her out of his sight. He's right, though - she is too tired to run, and right now, she doesn't have anywhere to run to.
AUTHOR: Vicinity
SUMMARY: The idea of redemption leads Yves - and Jimmy - into the heart of something more dangerous than she could have imagined. Formerly titled "The Immortality Solution."
RATING:
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not mine.
SPOILERS: Takes place after "Jump the Shark." Makes reference to another one of my stories, "Madrigal."
AUTHOR's NOTES:
****************************************************************************
She blinks slowly, trying to regain her sense of balance, and then she realizes that she is on the floor. He is bending over her and then she realizes that she can feel his hands on her shoulders. He is saying something. "Yves?"
She shivers slightly. "What?"
"What was - are you okay? Should I call an ambulance? What was that?" his words come out in a rush.
"I'm fine. No. Just let me up." He obliges and she tenses under his scrutiny, making every effort not to let the residual tingling throughout her body show on her face as she sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. She thinks that she should feel humiliated, but she just feels tired. Glad that it wasn't anywhere else. That only he saw. She wonders how she will explain it to him.
He kneels in front of her on the floor. "What is it?"
She sighs, crossing her arms across her chest. "I don't know. I think it's related to whatever was on Matthew's knife. I don't know."
"It's happened before?" he asks, and she wonders how he could tell and why she can hide from everyone else but him.
"Once," she says quietly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is gentle, but she thinks that there is something else - hurt, maybe. Disappointment.
"I didn't want you to worry." I didn't want to make it real . . . "I don't know anything about it. There's no reason for the both of us to worry about it."
He is silent for a moment, and then he touches her hand lightly. "I want to help, Yves. You know that." She is suddenly acutely aware of the damp coldness on her back, the brisk temperature of the room, the fact that she is wearing only her robe.
"I know," she says. "And it doesn't matter anymore."
"It does. We have to find out what it was, why . . . and what happened. Yves, the way you fell . . . I thought . . ."
"I know," she answers. "I saw. I watched it." He looks at her quizzically until she continues. "The last time was different. It was just a - tingling. This time it was more. This time, I think I know what it was."
"What?" he questions immediately.
She stares down at the hand he still holds, the way his larger one envelops it. "They were working on immortality," she says. "They were studying nanotechnology. They were creating machines that would do whatever they want." She looks up to meet his eyes. "I think that's what was on the blade. What is now . . . in me." She waits until she sees that he understands. "What happened to me?" she whispers, more to herself than to him, and then he wraps his arms around her, holding her against his body. She thinks that she should pull away, should push him back, but instead she leans into him, allowing him to support her.
After a few moments he releases her. "Yves," he says softly. "I'm sorry." It is such a simple phrase, so overused that it should seem trite, but it doesn't. She nods.
"Well," she swallows. "I think that's about it."
He nods. "For now. We'll work on it in the morning, hm? Both of us." He touches her shoulder lightly. "Right?"
"Right," she echoes, and then he smiles. The door closes behind him and she lies back on the bed. She wonders what he would do if she left during the night, and she wonders when he began to let her out of his sight. He's right, though - she is too tired to run, and right now, she doesn't have anywhere to run to.