Disclaimer—See Chapter One
A/N: Thank you again so much for your reviews and feedback!! Since you were all so wonderfully patient with me for not being able to post last week, I wanted to post this chapter as soon as possible to make it up to you!! I'm in the middle of working on chapter twelve now and still am not sure how long this story will be yet! It just kind of keeps on going so far! J I realize these past few chapters are a major stretch for Brennan's character, but I am just having a bit of fun exaggerating on his self-proclaimed hatred of nature. This is the last real chapter that stretches his character, so I hope you have fun with it! Thank you again so much for everything!
Of Wind and Wood—Chapter Six
Every muscle hurt. Shalimar winced as she lay down in the stern of the oar boat. After their little adventure with the kayak that morning, she was more than happy to agree to ride instead of paddle. She carefully stretched out her legs and then arms, meticulously working out each individual muscle. She rolled her shoulders and twisted her neck, wrinkling her nose at the ache of protesting muscle that kept her from having full mobility. Finally content, she lay still, propped up against the bright yellow rubber of their raft, feeling deliciously warm and drowsy in the afternoon sun. The raft arched and jumped beneath her, alive with the movement of the river. Water droplets flew against her when they hit bigger bumps, sending instant goosebumps up and down her arms. It was an unusual sensation of hot and cold, and she shivered in delight.
Next to her, Brennan's nose was buried in his book, oblivious to the beauty around him. She smiled as she watched him, the way his brows furrowed together in concentration, the way his dark eyes darted back and forth across the page, the way his lips pressed together slightly whenever drops of water splattered his book. One hand would rise to swipe the page dry, even as his eyes maintained their constant sweep. It was almost rhythmic she decided as his finger rose, hovering over the page edge and quickly turning it so his eyes did not miss a beat in their steady motion. She quietly chuckled, turning her own eyes outward, watching the forest as it lazily drifted by.
In the distance a thrush called out, and she understood its yearning as it cried for its mate. Her heart wished it well even as her hand rose and clasped Brennan's next to her. She understood the bird's desire to have its loved one close. Brennan's thumb idly stroked the back of her hand in nameless patterns, and she found herself drifting off. Shaking herself awake, she turned her eyes back to watch Brennan as he continued his reading; she loved watching him. His thumb stroked further down her palm, brushing upon a sensitive scrape from her earlier experience with the slippery rock. She didn't flinch, but his thumb picked up the rough patch of skin and his eyes broke away from their rhythmic sweep of the page to examine her hand. His forehead creased with concern, and his eyes darkened for a moment as he saw her scraped hand. He brought her hand up to his lips, soothing the hurt with a gentle kiss of apology.
"I'm sorry, Shal," he whispered, marveling at how tiny her hands were compared to his; in awe of the strength they possessed.
Her hand rose up to smooth his wrinkled brow. "For what? For wanting us to have some time alone?" Her lips curved up into a teasing smile, "For trying to be creative?"
He rolled his eyes at her grin, still grateful she hadn't said a word about his little fiasco even as he felt her hand pull his head down for a quick kiss.
Her fingers tangled into his hair as he returned her kiss; he tasted like chocolate Her fingers dropped down to his chest, digging into his shoulders for a moment before snaking down and dipping into his pocket. She broke away with a smirk as she pulled out a half-eaten chocolate bar.
"Hey!" he swiped for it, but she easily dodged his hand, taking a big bite out of the bar and flashing him a toothy grin.
He shook his head at her antics, fingers stretching out to brush away crumbs from her chin.
Her grin faded, and she tilted her head to the side as the hair on the back of her neck suddenly rose up and prickles of awareness buzzed up and down her spine. Someone was watching her. Brennan noticed her sudden tenseness.
"Shal?"
Her head slowly swung out to the left and then right, eyes studying those around them and then the passing shore. Seeing nothing, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
"Sorry, Bren, too much sun I guess."
She smiled up at him in reassurance, but he noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes. She was distracted by something. He pulled her close, and she took comfort in his nearness. Eventually he returned back to his book and she rested her head against his chest, but her eyes refused to close, burning in bright watchfulness.
The afternoon passed without incident and before long they headed to shore and set up camp for the night. Her stomach growled as she worked on their tent, making sure to attach the rain cover. Brennan was picked for kitchen duty, and she watched him in the distance gathering up sticks for the fire pit. One arm clutched a bundle of wood and the other was busy whirling around, smacking at biting mosquitoes. She chuckled at the sight before taking pity and pulling bug repellent out of her bag. Luckily for them, it was the one thing she hadn't been able to fit in the first aid kit. She walked up to him just as he dumped his load of wood on the ground.
"Here, Bren," she handed the spray over to him, wrinkling her nose as his distinct scent was soon masked by smelly spray.
"Don't give me that look," he waggled a finger at her, "This was your idea to be here."
She gave him her best innocent look before bending down to help stack the wood. He pushed the wood this way and that before finally being satisfied. Reaching over, he picked up a matchbook and struck a match, carefully lighting the kindling before setting it into the pile. The small flame fizzled and died. He tried again. After four matches, his eyes darted furtively in both directions before cupping his fingers and zapping the wood. A bright flame instantly roared to life.
"Cheater," she whispered into his ear as he shot her a knowing grin.
Ana paused as she walked by, looking at Brennan in surprise. "You did that?" Seeing Brennan's frown, she amended her statement. "Good, ah, good job," she nodded and dumped a load of fish into his arms and scurried away.
"Shal?" Brennan looked slightly horrified.
"Yeah?"
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is," he stared queasily at the scaly fish in his arms.
"Ah come on," she patted his back, "If you can fight bad guys, you can certainly clean a little fish."
He made a strangled sound, mouth opening and closing for a moment before shuddering and resolutely walking to the river. Shalimar's laugh followed him.
Brennan muttered under his breath as he carried his stinky load over to a small opening in the trees around them. It was getting later in the day, and he wanted to catch the last warmth from the sun before it completely disappeared. He settled himself down in a sunny patch of grass and spread the fish out onto some thick paper and grasped the knife in his hand, hovering over the fish in indecision.
"Don't look at me that way," he muttered at the large empty eyes staring blindly back at him. He forced himself to grasp the slimy body and began to fillet it the way Ana had shown him.
"Ugh!" He exclaimed, louder than intended, quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one had noticed. He saw Shalimar smirking at him from across the small field and knew her feral hearing had picked him up. Turning his attention back to the job in front of him, he made quick work of the task, skinning and de-boning the fish caught earlier that day by others in their group. He found himself talking to the fish as he cleaned them, furtively glancing over to his shoulder to see if Shalimar could hear. She was down at the river washing out some shirts when he saw her head shoot up and whip around towards him, bursting out laughing at his silliness. He grinned; mission accomplished.
The last ray of sun was beginning to disappear as he finished up his task, and he paused in his work, taking a moment to study the pink and orange of the sunset. He noticed with irritation that his arms were beginning to itch more now as well. They had not bothered him much all day, and he had hoped he had escaped with less damage this time around. He frowned grumpily and squirmed around as prickles of itchiness were beginning to make themselves known on other parts of his body as well. His eyes turned back to the mess in front of him, and he sighed as he picked up the last fish. Finally. His stomach growled hungrily, and he marveled he could still think about food after staring at fish guts for so long. The smell alone was pungent enough.
A sudden stinging sensation caused him to jump slightly. He paused, but noticed nothing, so went back to work, jumping again when the sensation returned. An uneasy feeling filled him as his backside suddenly felt flaming hot. "What the hell?"
He lurched to his feet; this was no poison ivy. Heat seared through him, and he arched over in horror, trying to peer over his shoulder in a crazy half-circle dance. He vaguely heard Shalimar laughing as she approached him.
"Brennan? What are you doing?" she called. When he didn't respond, her brows puckered with concern. "Brennan?"
She stilled his movements with a hand on his shoulder. "Brennan?" she carefully called again, taken back by his wild eyes.
"Shal," he gasped, "It burns!"
She stared at him in bewilderment before finally figuring out where his eyes were latched. She peered closer at the back of his shorts, suddenly gasping, "Fire ants!" She pulled the sleeve of her jacket down over her hand and started brushing them off as he squirmed around in horror.
"What??"
"Brenann, stand still!" she demanded, "I've got to make sure to remove their mandibles so they stop stinging."
"What??"
She gingerly pulled the last one off. "Take off your shorts," She commanded, peering at the mashed grass he had been sitting in, "It looks like you sat right by the nest."
"What??" He choked back a half-strangled cry as Ana and a few others surrounded them.
"You two alright?" Ana's eyes swept the area, widening as she saw the smashed nest, "Oh, oh my."
Brennan glared at her in misery as she coughed back a laugh. "We'll have to cleanse the, ah, the area," Her lips quivered. "Cold compresses are best."
Brennan's hands moved instinctively to cover his backside as he turned pleading eyes on Shalimar.
"I'll take care of him," she reassured with a smile.
Ana nodded, looking slightly disappointed as her eyes continued their perusal of the injury.
Brennan sighed in relief when they entered the privacy of their small tent, "Why me?" He bemoaned.
"I think I'm beginning to see why you hate nature so much," she commented dryly. "Now strip."
"What?"
"Strip." She crossed her arms.
"No way."
"Yes."
"No."
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Her eyes flashed gold.
His hands rose in surrender. "Ok, ok, you win." He frowned heavily as his hands dropped to his belt. "This has got to be the most embarrassing moment of my life," he muttered as he bent over.
She peered at the red bite marks. "You heard Ana," she instructed, "Cold compresses."
He groaned at her as she pointed to the ground. He resisted only for a moment before giving up all dignity and lying on his stomach as she disappeared out the door for a moment. He propped his head up with one hand, fingers from the other hand drumming the floor with impatient energy.
Shalimar procured a cold pack from Ana and soon returned, stopping short and biting her lip to stifle the urge to laugh at the sight of exposed white flesh marred with red dots. She shook her head and knelt down, carefully laying the compress down.
"Hey," he squealed, twitching in surprise, "that's cold."
"It's supposed to be." She patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Sorry, Bren."
His fingers increased their tempo. "Shal?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll never tell Jesse."
She burst out laughing.
"Shal?" he entreated again after a moment.
"Yeah?"
He paused.
"What, Bren?" She prompted gently.
He buried his
face in his hands, moaning in disbelief. "I'm really starting to
regret that stupid snowball."
