Disclaimer—See Chapter One
A/N: I'm posting a little early this week since I'll be out of town this weekend. I can't thank you all enough for your encouragement! I was so afraid there wouldn't be much interest since it had been a while since the last story ended. I'm so sorry again for the time it's taken me to get this story posted and that I'm not able to update more than once a week. Life is too crazy sometimes! But thank you so much to Marie Crosby, melodie568, blackpanther2288, AussieMXfan, Rain, kiki-0400, Aurore-e, Tunder28, Rachel, Anne, MariShal, Mayra, and Courtney; thank you! Susie Harvey, your review touched me so much, thank you! Adele, just got your review right as I was uploading this chapter, thank you! Thank you also to my wonderful betas, I don't know what I would do without you! This chapter is a little longer, although it feels short for some reason. I think because most of the length is more in the detail than the events. Ah well! I hope you enjoy! Thank you!
Traveling On—Chapter Two
In the dimness of early morning, something awoke Brennan from a deep, dreamless sleep. One eye begrudgingly squinted open to look at the clock.
Just barely after four o'clock in the morning.
He groaned, eye grumpily slamming shut, waiting for the lull of sleep to carry him back to oblivion.
But sleep would not come.
Finally, desperately, he rolled restlessly over, kicking at sheets that tangled around his legs, suddenly hot despite the well-regulated temperature inside their mountain home. His arm flung instinctively out, seeking comfort from the warmth of the woman he knew would be curled beside him. Only a few nights sleeping together and already he couldn't imagine going back to what life had been like before. Before, that's how he thought of it in his mind. Before and after. Life before Shalimar and now life after, life with Shalimar. He grinned sleepily, desire stirring deep within despite his weariness and despite the early hour. They had been so tired when they came in from the beach a few hours ago, collapsing onto the bed and immediately falling asleep without a word. He had barely gotten his arm around her before his eyes had drifted shut. But now…
His arm hit an empty mattress.
"Shal?" He sat up, scratching his chest, kicking off the blankets, grimacing when he realized fine sand had caked and dried on his skin. They had been too tired to shower, too tired to care or notice the sandy grit between their toes or the itchiness of dried salt water.
He was still too tired.
He groaned again, moodily flopping back down on the mattress, blowing out his breath. "Shal? He called petulantly again, fingering the cool metal of his comring. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if she had gone out hunting, frowning invariably at the thought. Still lingering in the magical mood of the beach, he wasn't ready for the possibility of that reality to kick in.
The ring stayed turned off.
"Where are you, Shalimar?" He kicked restlessly at the tangled sheets, freezing at the faint, answering moan.
It was so soft, so agonized, he almost missed it. "Shalimar?" He sat up straight, noticing for the first time the faint light fanning out from under the bathroom door. He leapt from the bed, stumbling over the bedding in his haste. He tripped, catching himself on a nearby dresser, hurrying toward the bathroom only to hesitate at the closed door, fingers pausing on the door knob. They had yet to cross this part of their relationship. "Shal?" He knocked lightly, unsure. "Are you ok?"
There was a pause, a hitch of breath, before she tiredly answered. "Go away, Brennan."
"But Shal—"
"I'm fine, just--just go--"
He couldn't ignore the fringe of panic in her tone, the unmistakable sound of retching as her voice broke off abruptly. He shook his head, determinedly pushing open the door, conveniently ignoring her growl of protest as she clung weakly to the edge of the toilet, head hanging low.
He clicked his tongue in dismay, crossing towards her.
"I'm fine," She insisted again, struggling to stand, moaning as the effort only brought on a new wave of dizziness. She was embarrassed, sinking back to her knees, only having the strength to rest her cheek on the edge of the bowl, knowing there was nothing she could do as he wet a washcloth and knelt down beside her on the cold floor.
"Let me help you," He gently chided, carefully lifting her head and keeping it away from the toilet. He brushed her hair away from her clammy face, wiping the tears from her red cheeks. "You're sick."
She snorted at his obvious statement, eyes closing for a brief moment as she caught a whiff of the pungent smell in the small bathroom. Her stomach clenched, and she turned her face away, humiliated, horrified. There was silence for a moment, and then a wave of rising panic as she weakly struggled against him. "Brennan," Her voice suddenly rose, pushing at him as she felt it coming up again. But he wouldn't let her go, wouldn't leave, and she struggled, trying to decide which was worse, him seeing her like this or being alone to suffer. The decision was made for her. His hands were gentle on her heaving back, the washcloth mercifully cool as he lifted her hair, pressing it to the back of her neck. Finally, spent, she pushed away from the toilet, leaving the warmth of his arms and curling into a ball on the floor.
He threaded his fingers through her tangled hair, pushing it behind her ear, running his hand down the back of her head to her shoulder in a soothing gesture. "Let's get you to the lab, call Adam." He made to lift her, pausing as she cried out, curling tighter in upon herself at the newest wave of nausea, tears dripping in a frustrated slide down her cheeks. She sniffed, and his heart broke, knowing she hated showing weakness. He crawled beside her, leaning against the wall and stretching his long legs out in front of him, careful not to jostle her as he pulled her against his chest. She stiffened for a moment before giving up, sinking against him with a strangled groan of protest, fingers clutching the thick cotton of his shirt.
"That's my stubborn feral," He whispered with a smile, lips pressing against her flushed temple.
She was too spent to resist, settling on a faint glare instead.
He chuckled into her hair, smelling the pain and sweat mingling with the salty scent of ocean still clinging to her skin. He kissed her again, running his hand in slow, gentle circles up and down her back. She felt so tiny, huddled miserably against him. She shivered occasionally despite the heat rolling off her, silent shudders that ripped through her frame, and he tightened his arms around her.
They sat in silence for a long time, Brennan slowly becoming aware of the coldness of the tile seeping through his pants, of the chilliness of the early morning air. He wondered what time it was, how long they had sat there. The bed was visible through the open door of the bathroom, and he looked longingly at its warmth and softness. "Hey, Shal," He roused her gently, watching her fever-dulled eyes with concern as they fluttered open with obvious effort. "We should get you into bed," He prompted, nodding through the open doorway, muscles tensing as he gathered her more firmly in his arms. "I can get Adam—"
"Ughhhh," She moaned lowly at the movement, suddenly scrambling on her hands and knees back across the short distance to the toilet, barely making it before the heaves started once more.
"Or not," He conceded, rising to his feet to rinse out the washcloth in the sink, kneeling behind her to hold back her hair as she shook violently. She didn't bother to struggle against his arms this time, welcoming their strength as he wrapped them around her from behind, pulling her into his chest when she finished, settling them both on the floor as he leaned against the tiled wall, lightly running the cool washcloth across her flushed skin. She was so hot. Sweat beaded along her hairline, eyes rolling as her head flopped wearily against his shoulder. He could hear the breath coming out of her in short pants, and the sound scared him. "I think I should call Adam."
"No," She worried her lower lip between her teeth, finding the strength to shake her head. "He's still weak from the mission; he hasn't rested since we got back."
"But Shal—"
"It's just some kind of flu, Brennan, there's no reason to disturb him when he can't do anything about it anyway."
He sighed, not liking it, but not wanting to distress her more. "Alright, but for the record, I don't like it."
"That's fine, protest all you want." She groaned, turning slightly in his arms so her cheek pressed against his chest, willing the nausea to go away, tentatively allowing her muscles to relax against him once more. "Just don't move."
He couldn't help it; he chuckled softly, hands settling loosely on her hair and waist. He was determined to stay awake, to help her through the rest of the night, but the next thing he knew, light flooded the room, and his head jerked up in confusion.
He had fallen asleep.
But so had Shalimar, curled into his side in an impossibly tight ball.
He blinked his eyes blearily, back stiff from his awkward position on the hard floor, sunburned and exhausted. But his mind could only focus on one thing as he stared urgently across the bathroom at the toilet.
He desperately had to go.
He winced as Shalimar roused beside him, shifting her weight and pressing against his abdomen.
His bladder screamed furiously in protest.
"Uh, Shal," He quickly adjusted her position, faintly registering her hot, dry skin in the back of his mind. She still had a fever. He should get her some juice, she was probably dehydrated. He groaned, muscles clenching as she shifted against him again.
"Brennan?" She murmured his name, looking around in bewilderment, flushing in embarrassment as remembrance crashed down upon her. She swallowed tightly, feeling the sweat between her shoulder blades, the sticky, fuzzy coating on her teeth, grimacing at how she must look. And the smell…Oh god, her eyes closed in embarrassment. So much for him finding her attractive. Welcome to the real world, she thought resignedly, pressing heavily against him once more.
There was a sharp intake of air, and then gentle shaking as Brennan pushed against her. "Umm, Shalimar…"
She felt the tinge of desperation in his voice and immediately misread him, staggering to her feet. The world spun crazily, and she clung madly to the sink, taking a few deep breaths. After a moment, she felt a little better and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on her red face. She reached shakily for her toothbrush next, hand hovering uncertainly as she realized she was in Brennan's room. Her toothbrush was down the hall in her bathroom, and at the moment might as well have been a million miles away. She picked his up. Brennan grunted, and she flushed more, quickly drawing back her hand, the toothbrush clattering into the sink. Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she suddenly felt angry, bracing herself as she hunched over the sink. She was sick, damn it, she couldn't help it. She quickly rinsed out her mouth instead, wiping a hand across her trembling lips as she turned toward him, noticing for the first time that he wasn't even looking at her. Her brow raised in understanding, watching as he shifted from foot to foot, eyes locked on the toilet. Ohhh She beat a hasty retreat, hearing the seat clang up against the tank as she collapsed into his bed.
This was going to take some getting used to.
Emma and Adam looked up simultaneously as Brennan dragged himself into the kitchen some time later. His hair was dripping wet, indicating a quick shower, and he smiled distractedly at them when he noticed them staring.
"You look terrible." Emma bluntly told him, corner of her mouth turned up.
"Good morning to you too," Brennan wryly threw back, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out two juice bottles. "Shalimar's sick," He briefly explained when he turned to find them still watching him. "Looks like some kind of flu bug, we were up most of the night."
"Shalimar's never sick," Emma's furrowed her brow, glancing at Adam.
"I'll check in on her." The older man nodded reassuringly. "I just ran scans on all of you yesterday, and she was clear." He glanced between the rest of his team. "How are the rest of you feeling?"
"Fine, Adam." Emma shook her head. "Jesse was fine this morning as well."
Brennan waved his hand as he guzzled one of the juice bottles. "Just tired."
"What are you thinking?" Emma watched Adam carefully, knowing his mind was already processing all the possibilities, knowing the moment something clicked. "Adam?"
"I won't know anything until I look at her, but I do believe she was the only one that ate the chicken last night."
"The rest of us had fish." Emma confirmed in understanding, turning to look pointedly at Brennan. "Food poisoning?"
"But I cooked that chick—" Brennan clamped his mouth shut as Emma's lips quirked again. "Don't you dare tell her."
Emma's eyes twinkled, leaning forward to maintain eye contact as Adam pushed away from the table, standing up. "You may want to disappear for a while, Brennan."
Adam laughed, slapping his hand on the other man's slumping shoulders as he passed him. "I think I can help you there."
"What?" Brennan trailed after him, still clutching one juice bottle in his hand.
"I actually do have an assignment for you this morning, Brennan." Adam led him to a nearby computer.
"Can't Jesse do it?" Brennan instantly protested. "I don't want to leave Shal right now."
"Jesse's working on a sensitive matter for me right now. I need his expertise elsewhere." Adam shook his head, raising his hand to cut off Brennan's next sentence. "And Emma's busy as well, and with Shalimar sick, that only leaves you. Anyway, I think this one will appeal to you." He paused to tap a few keys, turning Brennan's attention to a grainy picture of a dark-haired little boy. "This is Danny, a very promising psionic. His father has asked for our help putting him into the Underground."
"His father?" Instantly intrigued, Brennan studied the boy. "He doesn't look more than ten years old, why is his father giving him up?"
"Try nine years old." Adam's jaw flexed tightly at Brennan's look. "And I didn't say I agreed with it."
Brennan frowned, hesitating.
"I'll look after Shalimar," Adam overcame his last protest with ease, nodding in the direction of the garage. "You should get going."
"Fine," Brennan grumbled, turning his tired feet towards the garage, pausing to turn and toss the juice to Adam. "For Shalimar."
Adam smiled, deftly catching the bottle. "She'll be fine, Brennan."
Brennan waved over his shoulder, trotting down the hallway. The sooner he left, the sooner he would be back. Shalimar would probably be asleep for the next few hours anyway. If he hurried, he could be back before she woke up. Even though he knew she would be fine, he still wanted to be near her. They had been through so much recently, still healing from the injuries in their last mission. The scare of almost dying, of losing her was still fresh in his mind; all he wanted to do at the moment was be with her.
Shalimar stopped short as she came out of the bathroom, shoulders hunched as she clutched her stomach. "What are you guys doing here?" She couldn't maintain eye contact with Jesse and Emma as she saw them standing in the doorway, putting all her energy into putting one step in front of the other as she shuffled her way slowly back to the bed.
"Here, Shal."
She sighed gratefully as Jesse held out a hand, helping her back to the bed. He pulled back the covers as she sank exhausted into the downy softness, eyes closed as she fought the nausea, managing a brief smile to Jesse as he tucked the blankets back under her chin. His hand landed on her forehead for a moment, meeting Emma's gaze as she handed him a glass of water.
"Thanks," Shalimar murmured tiredly as Jesse helped her hold the glass up to her mouth. She was so thirsty. She protested when Jesse only allowed a tiny sip.
"Easy, Adam said only a tiny bit for now." Jesse patted her dry hand. "Any more and you might not be able to keep it down." He grinned sympathetically at her expression.
"I don't get why I'm the only one that caught this thing," Shalimar complained to the room at large, eyes closing again.
"I'll let Emma explain that one," Jesse's grin widened as he turned to leave. "I better get back to work, Adam's got me decoding some list that's been posted for sale on the black market."
"Have fun," Emma called after him as he disappeared out the door, plopping on the bed beside Shalimar, leaning against the headboard. She looked around Brennan's room with interest. She hadn't been in here much lately.
"Careful," Shalimar cautioned her. "You probably don't want to get too close to me right now."
"It's ok, Shal. Adam doesn't think you're contagious." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
"Why?" Shalimar's eyes had cracked open to stare at her suspiciously when she didn't immediately respond. "Emma?"
Despite his impatience, Brennan's heart melted at the fear and confusion on the small, round face that peered up at him, eyes owlishly large behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Hey, Danny," He knelt, holding out his hand to the little boy. The solemn eyes studied him for a long moment, quiet, and Brennan had the sensation of being examined. It passed quickly though, and he smiled when small fingers stretched toward his.
"It's ok, buddy, we've got you now. We'll take care of you." He babbled endlessly as he led the boy back to his car, holding the door open for him and buckling him in. "You're going to love where you're going, it's a great place." He paused to tousle the mop of dark hair before closing the door, crossing over to the driver's side and sliding in. Traffic was heavy, and he rapped his fingers against the steering wheel, groaning softly when the bright red of braking lights from the cars in front of them flashed again. He slammed his own brakes, reaching over to turn up the stereo when finally he ran out of things to say and still the little boy hadn't said a word, simply staring at him with those oversized eyes. Brennan's patience was stretched thin by the time they finally arrived at the Underground where Adam had arranged for him to hand off to the next contact. He had been gone for over three hours already, and Shalimar was probably awake by now. He threw the car in park, jumping out and helping Danny out of his seatbelt, leading him into the nondescript building. They hadn't used the old bookstore for a while now, and Brennan glanced around as he ducked out of the bright sun and inside the shop, eyes blinking to adjust to the dim light. He was glad to see their contact already waiting for them.
"Dave," He briefly shook hands with the burly Molecular who frequently helped them out with the underground and would take Danny to his foster family. Pudgy fingers interrupted, tugging questionably on his jacket, and he knelt down, resting his hands on the skinny shoulders. "Dave is going to take care of you now, ok?" He started to rise, but paused when he saw Danny's face. He knew that look, had seen it on his own face after his mother died. Brennan's gut twisted with deep anger that any father could give up his child. He dipped his head, making eye contact. "Hey, listen to me. You're not alone, ok?" He waited until the boy looked at him, cupping his cheek. "We'll take care of you, I promise." Large eyes again studied him, a flicker of relief and something else he couldn't quite read. Brennan gave the small shoulders another reassuring squeeze before standing back up, meeting the eyes of the large molecular as he knelt down to take over. "Thanks, man." He shook his hand again, tousling Danny's hair a final time, listening for a moment as Dave gave his own reassurances to the small boy. Knowing he was in good hands, Brennan ducked back out of the store, thoughts drifting back to Shalimar as he found himself stuck in traffic once more.
"He thought what?" Shalimar stared at Emma in disbelief, holding her stomach weakly. It hurt to laugh, but she couldn't help it, her chuckle mingling with Emma's. "Jesse has no idea how far from possible that could even be right now."
"Well," Emma shrugged teasingly, "Except for the fact that it's only been a few days since we've been back, I suppose it could have been a logical deduction, with your symptoms and all."
"Not really." Shalimar was still chuckling, hands spanning across her stomach at such a thought. "We haven't even slept together yet…not for Brennan's lack of trying." She added as an afterthought, grinning evilly at Emma, expecting a similar declaration from the psionic. "Emma?" Her voice rose knowingly when the redhead's cheeks stained red. "You and Jesse?"
Emma pursed her lips, refusing to answer directly, fighting the smile that threatened to split across her face.
"Honey, we have to talk." Shalimar tried to push herself into a sitting position.
"Now?" Emma glanced nervously at the door, knowing Adam had planned to stop by again soon. He had already come and gone once.
"I need something to take my mind off this," Shalimar gestured to her rolling stomach, huffing slightly. "Food poisoning."
"Go easy on him, Shal." Emma chuckled again as she remembered Brennan's face. Her smile faded slightly after a moment.
"Hey, what is it?"
Emma has to smile at Shalimar's question. The feral could instinctively pick up a change of mood as easily as any psionic. "It's nothing." She sighed, plucking at the tufted button on one of Brennan's pillows resting in her lap. "It's just…are you ever afraid?"
Shalimar knew immediately what Emma meant. "Constantly." She smiled faintly as Emma nodded her head. "Afraid it will change things, afraid it actually might not work out between us, afraid that it actually might." She groaned, rolling over onto her side so that she faced the redhead sitting cross-legged next to her. "I don't know if I could just go back to the way things were before."
"I know what you mean." Emma hugged the pillow to her chest, staring across the room. "I'm a psionic, and I still don't know what Jesse's thinking at times. It scares me."
Shalimar hesitated, rubbing her eyes. She hadn't shared much about her past, and she didn't want to project those feelings to Emma now. She bit her lip, twisting her ring between her fingers. "I made myself a promise years ago to never to live in fear again. But this—" She gestured helplessly around the room, "This is---"
"Different." Emma finished for her.
The two girls fell silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
Emma finally cleared her throat. "But you know, I think we already decided to take that risk the moment we opened our hearts. I think it's a little too late now."
Shalimar nodded, remembering the feel of Brennan's kiss, the heat of his body pressed to hers. Having already a taste of what it felt to be with him, she knew she just couldn't pretend to be just his friend and teammate ever again. If things didn't work out between them, she knew she couldn't stay. Even the mere scent of him was enough to distract her, torture her. It was a huge risk, and the consequences were frightening. Family was everything to a feral, the drive for a mate the only thing stronger. It was that instinct that drove her now, that allowed her to explore her feelings for Brennan, confident that despite the risks, her choice was right. She loved him. And that made everything simple.
"I hear you," Emma agreed softly.
Shalimar blinked suddenly, realizing she had been broadcasting her thoughts unintentionally. She shook her head, slapping playfully at her friend, spots dancing before her eyes at the movement. She gritted her teeth, waiting for the dizzy feeling to pass. If she didn't move, it wasn't so bad. "So, about you and Jesse," She abruptly changed the subject, laughing again as Emma automatically turned red.
Brennan had never been so happy to be home, not even bothering to stop to report to Adam as he strolled back into Sanctuary, making a beeline to his bedroom. The room was dark, silent, when he pushed open the door, and he tiptoed in, slightly disappointed to see Shalimar was sound asleep. Even though he knew she needed the rest, he wanted to spend time with her. He sighed, backing out slowly, heading toward the kitchen. He hadn't eaten breakfast and now it was well past lunchtime, and he was starving. He waved at Jesse as he passed him, seeing the molecular was still glued to the computer terminal, absorbed in whatever work Adam had given him. He ate quickly, anxious to get back to Shalimar, afraid Adam might find something else for him to do instead. He slunk down the hallway, sneaking into the room without running into the older man. He grinned to himself, closing the door softly with his toe, arms loaded with a tray of food. He turned, starting when he saw Shalimar's eyes open and watching him.
"You're back," She greeted him in a gravelly voice.
He grinned foolishly. She was pink. Too pink. Bright fever spots stood out on her cheekbones, but he still thought it was better than the deathly white she had been earlier that morning. Her freckles from the previous day at the beach had stood out in stark contrast to the sickly paleness of her skin. Now, they almost disappeared in the ruddiness of her skin. Someone had helped her shower while he was gone; the tangled mess her hair had been was now smoothed down her back in damp, riotous curls. Fresh pajamas were visible where the clean sheets and blanket were folded across her chest. He had a flash of jealousy that someone else had helped her.
"It was Emma," She read his thoughts accurately. "I couldn't stand my own smell any longer."
He grinned, holding up the tray after a moment. "I thought you might be hungry."
"Ugh, no." She wrinkled her nose, turning away at the thought, scrunching back down on the bed. "I can't keep anything down."
"You've got to try, Shal."
"No, I can't keep anything down." The huddled lump did not move.
It struck him how tiny she looked in his bed, the sight arousing him. Not now, he lectured his traitorous thoughts as he crossed closer. He set the tray down on a dresser, picking up a steaming bowl. "Maybe some soup?"
A tremor and then a heavy pause. "It better not be chicken noodle."
He froze halfway to the bed. She knew. He dreaded to look, but couldn't stop his eyes from slowly lifting to hers. He shifted his feet. "Ah, Shal—"
She was watching him knowingly, frowning slightly, suddenly not in the mood. "Not now, Brennan."
He recognized the weariness in her tone, crossing the rest of the way over. The bed dipped under his weight, and she gingerly pushed back up into a sitting position as he offered her the soup. "It's just broth, no chicken." He couldn't quite meet her eyes.
She ignored the soup, lifted a hand, resting it on his cheek. "I missed you," she finally whispered, letting him see she really wasn't angry with him.
"I got back as fast as I could," He whispered back. "I think I broke a few speed limits the last few miles," He confessed with a twinkle.
She grinned, tracing the outline of his mouth with her finger, hand falling limply back to her lap when Brennan gently nudged her arm with the bowl he still held. "I don't think it's a good idea, Brennan. My stomach doesn't want it."
"Just a few mouthfuls." He guided the bowl up to her lips. "I'm worried about you."
She dutifully took a small sip, and then another when he smiled at her in relief.
"There, you see?" He turned to set the bowl down on the nightstand. "That will make you feel better."
In answer, she lurched sideways out of the bed and fell to her hands and knees, scrambling into the bathroom, retching and gagging.
"I'm sorry, Shal." Brennan was instantly there, smoothing the hair back from her face, guilt assaulting him. He had screwed up again. "This is all my fault."
"No," She gasped stubbornly, protectively, "It's not."
He swallowed, throat tight as he lifted her and carried her back to the bed. She was quiet as he got a cloth and cleaned her face. "I'm sorry," He whispered again as he pulled off his shirt and slipped into bed behind her, pulling her into his arms, curving his body around hers.
"It's ok, Brennan," She mumbled in reply, burying her face into his warm skin. She needed this, needed him, as much as she needed to breathe. She took a deep breath, relaxing as the dizziness began to fade.
It was blissfully quiet for a moment.
"I can't believe I poisoned you."
Her shoulders shook at his woeful assessment. "Idiot," She said affectionately.
The proprietary tone was new. He wasn't just an idiot. He was her idiot. He tenderly kissed the top of her head, feeling her fingers slide into his with a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, and even when she drifted into sleep, body heavy and lax against him, he hung on, refusing to let go.
The broth sat on the dresser, forgotten, its spicy fragrance lingering in the air long after it grew cold and congealed, and as the afternoon light slated across the room, it wafted silently over their forms as they slept on; unaware.