DISCLAIMER – Stargate: Atlantis is not mine. It is the intellectual property of MGM/UA and associates. I am making no profit from the creation of this story. I am doing this for fun and personal enjoyment. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don't sue.
The song "You Are My Sunshine" was written by Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell and is ©1940. It's not my intellectually property, either.
Shadow and Dr. Itzhak Perlman are my original characters. If you want to use them, all you have to do is ask. I rarely say no to requests like that.
RATING – This story is rated T
ARCHIVE – Feel free to archive this if you'd like, but please tell me where you're archiving it. Thanks.
A/N – Okay, first and foremost, I've come to the conclusion that people have not been receiving my PMs, so if you were expecting a little note or a reply from me, I have to extend my sincerest apologies to you. I don't know why I cannot send PMs but hopefully ff dot net will sort this out soon.
To flubber – In case you didn't see it last time, yes you can use the chess set in your story. I would be honoured!
To NenyaVilyaNenya – thanks a million once again for your insightful, thought-provoking and entirely consistent replies & reviews. I don't know if I have said this already, but you are a very helpful and encouraging reviewer. So THANKS!
Here's chapter 30 for you all. I'm rather pleased with how this turned out. Thanks to NenyaVilyaNenya for your suggestions. Enjoy!
I have no beta, so any mistakes are mine.
The Song Of Silent Rivers
30. Time And Space
If time flies when you're having fun, it creeps at a snail's pace when you're miserable..
Elizabeth stared at the line she'd written in her journal. The past seven days might as well have been seven years, as interminable as they'd seemed to Elizabeth. She'd been doing her best to keep up the appearance that nothing was amiss, but by now she was afraid she wasn't doing a very good job of it any more. It had been exactly a week since Rodney had discovered Morin's immunotherapy, a week since Elizabeth had sat in Carson's office and discussed Morin's post-mortem, a week since she and Radek had that last serious conversation in the mess hall. She hadn't spoken to Radek since that morning, except on the occasions that their work brought them together. She knew he was doing his utmost to avoid her whenever possible, and when he had no choice but to interact with her, he was professional and almost formally polite.
Elizabeth was at a total loss to comprehend what had really happened that morning in the mess hall. She understood Radek was a private person and that he was shy and often apprehensive of strangers or unfamiliar situations, but that didn't explain his behaviour toward her. He had no reason to be afraid of her. She'd only been trying to help, because she cared about him and had been worried about him. He'd never turned away from her like this before, and it upset her that she couldn't figure out what had changed between them to cause such a barrier to come up.
She recalled what Carson had said when they'd talked in his office. If he never comes to you on his own, then perhaps you're not the one he trusts. Each time she thought about that, it made her throat constrict and the backs of her eyes prickle with imminent tears. She had taken for granted that Radek trusted her because he'd always behaved as though he did. Now, she wondered whether Carson had been right. Maybe Radek only told her things because she insisted upon it, not because he particularly wanted to. His refusal to talk to her in the mess hall seven days ago might have been a warning to her that she'd pushed too hard, gone too far in what she'd expected from him.
She wished she could turn back the days and begin that encounter again with the insight she had now. She'd do things differently, that much was certain. She would have tried to be gentler, less demanding. Their conversation might have gone better, and she wouldn't be sitting alone in her quarters right this minute, missing him.
Tonight they might've been playing chess. Her mind created an image of Radek lying on his belly on the floor, chin cupped in his hands, peering intently at the chess board. Elizabeth had laughed the first time he'd told her he liked to play on the floor. He liked to be on eye level with the board, because he said it gave him a sense of being in the game. There was something childlike about that, Elizabeth thought, something entirely endearing. She couldn't even count how many times over the past two years she'd sat on the floor with him and played chess. He was the one who'd taught her the finer points of the game, patiently explaining strategies and occasionally letting her win.
If they weren't playing chess, they could've just been talking, or they might have been reading aloud to each other. Radek loved being read to. He'd told her as much, but even if he hadn't, it wouldn't have been difficult to guess. There was a kind of innocence in his delight at hearing a good story that Elizabeth rarely saw in other adults. He enjoyed telling stories, too, just as much as he took pleasure in hearing them. Elizabeth liked his ghost stories the best; the ones that had been passed down to him by his uncle, about the denizens that haunted the castles and streets of Prague.
Her room echoed with his absence, all the more poignantly for the lack of any evidence of him ever having been there at all. He'd left nothing of his in her quarters, not his jacket or one of his books or even a stray chess piece. She had nothing to see or touch and say this belongs to him. She would have been comforted by that, reassured that he'd eventually return. As the situation was, she was uncertain as to whether he'd even speak to her outside the context of work any more, much less visit her off-duty.
Unable to concentrate on her journal any longer, Elizabeth shut down her laptop computer. She carried it across the room and carefully placed it on her desk. She'd spent a lot of time staring at the laptop screen this week, not only in doing her usual paperwork but also in reading the information that had been stored on Kadan Morin's tablet device.
She'd learned from Rodney that the device wasn't really Morin's at all, but that it had belonged to an Ancient woman called Danai. After having read Morin's private writings, she'd seen the truth of that for herself, as well.
At first it had seemed strange to Elizabeth, reading someone else's diary. She'd felt like an interloper in Morin's private thoughts. The more she read, however, the deeper she'd been drawn into Kadan Morin's life, his world, She tried to picture him as he was when Danai had first come to him, a brilliant, idealistic young geneticist, instead of the frail old man who'd passed away in the Infirmary.
Kadan Morin had been one of the most gifted scientists on his planet, yet according to his own account of his life's events, he'd been feared by some of his colleagues and resented by others. His experiments with human genetic engineering had made him notorious in the scientific community and many people had expressed ethical concerns about the work he was doing.
After reading so much about Morin in his own words, Elizabeth felt she'd come to know him, and she was sure his intentions had been good. He'd written that he wanted his research to be used in curing genetic disabilities and diseases, but that his most cherished dream was to genetically engineer a complete human being. The reason for that was not mere scientific curiosity, Elizabeth had learned. Morin didn't want to create a human just to see if it could be done. His motivation had been deeply personal.
Elizabeth was not ashamed to admit she had cried when she read Morin's words about the death of his wife in a workplace accident. The woman's name was Kaya and she'd been a scientist too, an engineer. It was obvious Morin had loved her devotedly, and had taken her death very hard. His grief had been all the more profound because Kaya had been carrying their first child when she'd died.
Elizabeth could not even begin to comprehend Morin's feelings, but she thought she could see how he would choose to dull his heartache by immersing himself totally in his work. Elizabeth was prone to doing that sort of thing, herself; blocking her pain by making herself too busy to worry about it. Still, in the quiet moments, the hurt resurfaced.
She thought of Radek again and wondered if he was thinking about her. That was a silly notion, she realized, almost adolescent in quality, and she chided herself for it. Most likely, Radek was not thinking of her at all, or if he was, Elizabeth would surely not want to know the content of those thoughts. They would doubtless hurt her, and she didn't want that.
Picking up her jacket, she decided she needed to get out of her quarters. Perhaps she'd go to the Infirmary, look in on Shadow, and talk with Carson for a while. Carson and Itzhak had been studying the data on Morin's immunotherapy. Listening to the doctors explain their latest progress would give her something to think about that didn't directly involve her and that, she concluded, would be a very good thing right now.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"All I'm saying," said Ronon, "is that if you used a little common sense, you wouldn't get into so much trouble."
"They said the food was free!" Rodney said. "I was hungry."
"They said nobody wanted it, McKay. There's a big difference."
"Look on the bright side, Rodney. At least it did not contain citrus fruit," Teyla soothed, "You did not become seriously ill. That is something else to be thankful for."
John was only half listening to the back and forth chatter of his teammates as they sat at their usual table in the mess hall and discussed the aftermath of their mission to M3X-949. They had returned from the planet earlier in the day. Rodney's upset stomach notwithstanding, the mission had been remarkably trouble-free, much to John's pleasure. It was nice to visit a world where the locals were willing to trade and where nobody was trying to kill you, drug you, hold you for ransom, or trick you into marrying the princess. More planets ought to be like that, John thought. A guy could go to M3X-949 for a nice little vacation.
John could think of a few people who needed some shore leave on a quiet planet. Radek Zelenka topped that list, John decided. For the past week, John had watched the little Czech going about the city like a man who'd lost his best friend. He still did his work and interacted with people, and John got the impression he was trying hard to hide whatever was bothering him. He just wasn't doing a very good job of it.
John could make a pretty good guess about what was upsetting Radek. Contrary to popular opinion, it was not all the business with Morin and Shadow and the information from the Ancient tablet device that had him so depressed. Something had happened between Radek and Elizabeth on the morning after Morin's death, and John suspected that was the real cause of Radek's misery.
Elizabeth hadn't been herself lately, either, though she was better at covering it than Radek.
At the moment, John was watching the engineer in question, who was sitting by himself at a table in the corner. The tabletop in front of him was overspread with several large sheets of paper, probably some kind of blueprints or schematic drawings. Radek was always tinkering with machines and drawing pictures of their insides.
The last John had heard, Radek had been trying to sort out something to do with the cloaking devices on the 'jumpers. According to Rodney, the tablet from M4X-382 contained a wealth of information on cloaking technology that would keep Radek, Rodney and the other scientists going for weeks. Rodney had been excited about that. John had expected Radek to be more enthusiastic about it, too, but just now the engineer looked like a kid who'd been kept in detention after school and made to write lines on the blackboard. Radek must be feeling very bad indeed if he couldn't get any enjoyment out of studying his beloved 'jumpers.
The sound of Teyla's voice addressing him pulled John away from his own musings, and he was embarrassed to realize he hadn't actually heard the words she'd said.
He mumbled an awkward, "Huh…? What?"
"I said, what do you think, John?" Teyla repeated patiently.
"I think I should go over there and talk to him," John said.
"Go over where and talk to me?" said Rodney. "I'm right here, Sheppard. Are you sure you didn't breathe some kind of hallucinogenic spores on that planet, or something?"
"I didn't mean you, McKay. I meant Radek."
Rodney sounded affronted. "We weren't talking about Radek. We were talking about me and how those villagers tried to poison me with their leftovers. What does that have to do with Radek?"
"Nothing," John said. He shook his head. "Sorry. I guess I haven't been paying attention."
"No, really?" Rodney said. "I'm shocked."
"John, why do you need to talk to Dr. Zelenka?" Teyla asked.
"I don't need to," said John. "I just think I should. I'm kind of worried about him."
"Why are you worried about him? He wasn't the one who got food poisoning!" Rodney exclaimed. "Food poisoning is way more serious than some ridiculous lovers' quarrel. He'll get over whatever's bothering him, but I'll be emotionally scarred for life. I'll probably never be able to eat on an alien world again."
"I find that hard to believe," scoffed Ronon.
Teyla peered at Rodney quizzlcally. "Lovers' quarrel?"
"Come on. Don't tell me you don't know," Rodney said. "You are so behind the times, Teyla. I thought everybody in Atlantis knew."
"I do not."
"Well, you obviously don't listen to the news."
"If by 'news' you are referring to the many unsubstantiated rumours about Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Weir—"
"All right, you guys can just…sort this out among yourselves," John said, certain that another squabble was about to break out. He gestured across the room to where Radek was sitting. "I'm going over there. Try not to get too out-of-control while I'm gone, okay?"
"That an order?" Ronon inquired laconically.
Rodney snorted. Teyla sighed.
"Play nice," John said.
"Nicely," Rodney corrected him. "Play nicely. 'Nice' is an adjective, not an adverb."
John had absolutely no reply for that, so he simply got up from his chair, left his teammates and wandered across the large room.
If Radek noticed John approaching, he gave no indication of it and went right on doing whatever he'd been doing. John watched Radek make a note on the schematic drawing in front of him. His handwriting was very telling; small and huddled in on itself as if the letters needed to cling together for protection.
"Hey, Radek," John said.
The engineer glanced up at him briefly. "Colonel," Radek acknowledged.
"Mind if I join you?"
"If you like to watch me work, go ahead," Radek said.
"Actually," John said. "I thought we could have a chat."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
This cannot possibly be good, Radek thought as he watched John Sheppard pull out the chair across the table from him and sprawl casually in it. Radek was immediately wary. Anyone who approached another person like that and announced he'd like to have a chat never wanted to talk about work or common interests. Radek went right on studying the 'jumper schematics spread out on the table in front of him and did his best to pretend the colonel wasn't there. He did not want to 'chat' with John Sheppard, especially since he had a fairly good idea as to what John wanted to talk about.
Doubtless John was trying to find out what had happened between Radek and Elizabeth. To Radek, it seemed that was all anyone wanted to find out this week. He realized people were gossiping about them, but there was nothing he could do to stop that. The last thing he wanted was to add grist to the rumour mill by discussing the situation himself. His disagreement with Elizabeth had been between the two of them and no one else. He could not fathom how all of Atlantis considered it their business, too.
For his part, Radek had been trying hard not to think about the argument. He didn't want to think about Elizabeth at all, because thoughts of her made him alternate between resentment and longing. He didn't know which feeling hurt more. He missed their frequent, totally contrived 'breakfast meetings' and he missed surreptitiously holding hands with her while they watched the sun set. He missed her laugh, her cute American accent, and her comforting smile. He missed her. The problem was that he couldn't get past the dichotomy of their relationship. The private half, though not intimate, was wonderfully affectionate, but it was marred by the reality of the professional half.
Sometimes, Radek found it impossible to let his guard down completely in Elizabeth's presence, because he could not tell whether she was playing the role of leader or friend. She had a tendency to blur those lines when it was convenient for her to do so. Radek didn't have that luxury. He felt as though he had very little power over either aspect of their relationship, and it was that disadvantage he resented the most.
He supposed it was apprehension that kept him from telling Elizabeth everything he was thinking and feeling right now. He wasn't sure how she'd react to it, and the last thing he wanted was to get into another argument with her. He genuinely regretted the way he'd conducted himself the last time they'd really talked. He desperately wanted to tell her that he was sorry, but she'd been so unapproachable lately that his insides twisted with anxiety at the mere idea of initiating any sort of conversation with her.
The colonel across the table cleared his throat in a deliberate fashion, reminding Radek he was supposed to be chatting with the man.
"So," John said. "What's up?"
"Nothing," said Radek. "I'm working."
"Putting in a bit of overtime, huh?"
"What else is there to do?"
"I don't know," John said. "Usually, you don't have trouble finding recreational things to do in the evenings."
"You are as subtle as brick, Colonel. In any case, my recreation is not your concern."
"Maybe not, but I have other concerns."
"Hmm…" Radek said. He dropped his gaze back to the table and shuffled the papers in front of him. He pulled a drawing from the middle of the small pile and spread it flat with his palms. "Can't you see I'm busy now? I really don't want to talk."
"People are going to get the impression you're antisocial."
"People jump to many conclusions that are not true," Radek said, and added, "That is how rumours get started."
"Know how to stop a rumour?"
"They never stop."
"Sure they do," John said. "The best way to stop a rumour is with the truth."
Radek couldn't entirely keep the cynicism from his tone. "And what would you like to know the truth about? Which rumours would you like to stop?"
"You know, sarcasm doesn't become you, Radek. That's more McKay's thing," said John. "To be perfectly honest, I don't pay a whole lot of attention to most of the rumours around here. I'm just worried about my friends."
"Which friends are those?"
"You and Elizabeth."
"I suppose the purpose of this 'chat' is for you to learn what Elizabeth and I argued about."
"No," John said. "It doesn't matter to me what you argued about. What I want to know is why the two of you aren't trying to fix it. I mean, you're obviously miserable, and Elizabeth— Well, let's just say she's doing a damn good job of hiding her feelings, but I know her too well for her to be able to fool me for long."
"This is really not your business."
"I only want to help."
Radek sighed. "Colonel, you cannot help. There's nothing you can do."
"I can give you some advice."
"Everyone wants to do this. I don't need any more advice. I've gotten advice from too many people already."
"Has any of it made sense?"
"I suppose, yes. Some of it."
"Then why haven't you been following it?"
"Colonel—"
"You know I'm really bad at all this personal stuff, but I'm pretty sure it's a lousy idea to ignore your problems in the hope that they'll go away. We all have to work together, here. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
"Not really, no."
"Okay, look, what I'm saying is that I think you have to talk to Elizabeth," John said. "You don't have to discuss what happened, at least not right off the bat."
"If we don't talk about what happened, what is the point?"
"The point is that you'll be talking to her, which is more than you've been doing lately. Just pick some common ground and have a chat. You'll get around to the important stuff eventually."
"How am I supposed to speak with her if she doesn't want to speak with me?"
"Who says she doesn't want to?" John said.
The colonel grinned in a way that made Radek think John knew something he himself did not. Radek never liked it when people smiled at him that way. It always left him with the impression that the wearer of the smile had been meddling. True, people were generally well-meaning, but more often than not, people's good intentions paved the way to some very unpleasant places.
Still, John's idea had a kind of rationality about it. Radek decided he should, as Elizabeth often said, take the suggestion under advisement.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Can we do this?
That was the question Itzhak had asked Carson a week ago, on the morning after they'd discovered the notes on Morin's immunotherapy. That day, looking at the information on the treatment Morin had been developing. Carson hadn't been able to answer Itzhak's question. Now, after studying Morin's files in detail and analyzing Shadow's blood and tissue samples thoroughly, Carson was closer to an answer that satisfied both Itzhak and himself. It would take time, but Carson was certain they could duplicate Morin's work.
Meanwhile, their more conventional, Earth-derived immunotherapy had produced results that set Carson's mind at rest and put an enormous grin on Itzhak's face every time he mentioned it. Shadow had continued to improve over the past several days to the point where she was once again breathing without the aid of a ventilator and was able to take fluids by mouth. Her fever was persistent, but it was low-grade and no longer dangerous.
Encouraged by Shadow's progress, Itzhak decided it would be safe to remove her from the isolated room. Carson was still worried about impeding her recovery by letting her be exposed to more harmful pathogens, but he had agreed to allow Shadow to be moved to a regular spot in the Infirmary. The condition Carson insisted upon, however, was that the number of people who had contact with Shadow should be kept to a minimum. Itzhak had said, under the circumstances, that idea made very good sense.
They'd opted to move Shadow to her new bed this evening. Carson knew they probably could have waited till morning, but generally speaking, the Infirmary was quieter and less hectic at night. The less commotion Shadow had to cope with, the better it would be for her. The noise wouldn't have bothered her, of course, but the flurry of daytime activity might have, and Carson knew from previous experience that Shadow could be easily frightened.
Shadow was disoriented and distressed when she left the isolated room. Despite Itzhak and Carson's best efforts to explain where they were taking her, she seemed unable to grasp what they were trying to tell her. Carson supposed their failure to communicate was mostly due to the fact that Shadow was too confused to read what Itzhak had written. Not for the first time, he wished there was some other way they could converse with the deaf woman.
When he mentioned that to Itzhak, the Israeli doctor grinned at him.
"Of course," Itzhak said. "Maybe there is another way to communicate with her. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."
"You know of another way?"
"I wonder if anyone on her world ever tried to teach her some form of sign language."
"If anyone did, it would probably be a form that's unfamiliar to us," Carson said.
"I know, but that doesn't exclude the possibility of her learning a form that is familiar to us, or of us learning a form that's familiar to her."
"It'd take time."
"Naturally, it would. I think the benefits would outweigh the disadvantages, though, don't you? It'd be much easier for her if she didn't have to rely on reading and writing everything all the time."
"That doesn't solve our immediate problem, though, does it?" said Carson. He gazed at Shadow, who was hunkered down beneath her blankets and looking like a lost, terrified child. "Perhaps it wasn't so brilliant an idea, moving her to a different bed."
"She'll be okay," Itzhak said. "One of us should probably stay with her for a while, but I think everything will be fine once she settles down."
"I'll take care of her," Carson said. "You need to take care of yourself. When was the last time you took a few hours off to do something other than eat and sleep?"
Itzhak swept his fingers through his untidy hair and looked sheepish. "You know, I can't remember," he said. "This is a sign of my being a serious workaholic, isn't it?"
"I'd say your workaholism is in an advanced state, son," Carson said. He smiled at his friend. "Go on, now. The place won't crumble if you leave."
To his credit, Itzhak didn't raise any protest about leaving. After promising Shadow he'd come by to check on her later, and after assuring Carson he'd do something fun in his off-hours, he calmly left.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
When Elizabeth arrived to see Carson she had been pleased, albeit somewhat surprised, to learn that Shadow was now occupying a regular bed in the main part of the Infirmary. A redheaded nurse named Rachel Smith had directed her to a curtained-off area where she'd found Carson keeping watch over the deaf woman. Shadow looked markedly better than she'd been a few days ago, the last time Elizabeth had physically seen her. She was obviously still sick, but now she only looked like someone with a particularly nasty cold as opposed to someone with a life-threatening illness.
Carson talked eagerly about the progress he and Itzhak were making with the immunotherapy, when Elizabeth asked him about it. He was satisfied with the continued improvement of Shadow's general health, too, and told Elizabeth that if everything kept going the way it should, he expected Shadow to recover with very few negative effects. Elizabeth was glad to hear that. Shadow had been through a lot already, and the last thing the young woman needed was to suffer any sort of long-term problems associated with her illness.
Elizabeth was particularly intrigued when, at one point in their discussion about Shadow, Carson had mentioned Itzhak's idea about teaching Shadow how to sign. According to Morin's journal, Morin and Danai had engaged in a similar discussion when they'd discovered Shadow was deaf.
A form of sign language existed on Morin's home planet, but the scientist didn't know how to do it. Danai was the one who had suggested Shadow should learn to read and write. Morin had taught her the language of their adopted world. Danai had taught her Ancient. Since Shadow had been created to resemble the Ancients, it was Danai who'd won the argument about which language she would most often use.
Upon first reading about that in Morin's journal, Elizabeth had been disinclined to like Danai's overbearing attitude, but in retrospect, she was glad Shadow's 'first' language was Ancient. She might not have been able to communicate with the Atlantis people at all if she'd only known the dialect of the former natives of M4X-382.
Elizabeth was of the opinion that if Shadow wanted to learn sign, and there was someone in Atlantis who could teach her, there was no reason she shouldn't be able to do so. Realistically, however, Shadow would still have to use written language to converse with most people. Not everyone would have the inclination or the time to learn a new method of speaking that was not relevant to the success of the overall mission.
In light of that, Carson suggested someone ought to teach Shadow how to read and write English. If she needed to rely on the written word, it ought to be something that everyone in Atlantis would understand without difficulty.
Elizabeth considered Carson's idea as she took the doctor's place next to Shadow. She'd offered to sit with the deaf woman for a while so Carson could get a bit more work done before Dr. Eriksson came to relieve him for the night.
She wondered if Shadow had the capacity to learn a new language. She'd seemed bright and curious, but Elizabeth knew that wasn't necessarily an indicator of a person's ability to be taught. Only time would tell, she decided.
Elizabeth glanced down at Shadow. She'd thought the young woman had been nearly asleep just before Carson left. Now, Shadow was wide awake again and she was agitated, almost as if she hadn't wanted Carson to go.
"It's all right," Elizabeth said to her. "You're safe with me."
Shadow stared at Elizabeth in her intent, unwavering fashion, as if she were afraid to look away. Elizabeth wasn't sure what she should do. She lifted Shadow's hand between both of hers. Recalling the uncanny image of Shadow beign soothed by a lullaby she could not hear, Elizabeth tentatively began to sing.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy when skies are grey…
"Elizabeth…?"
Elizabeth hadn't heard anyone approaching and she was so startled by the sound of a voice behind her that she immediately stopped singing. Inexplicably, she felt embarrassed that anyone should hear how off-pitch she was. She shook her head. Her off-key singing was such a trivial thing to be concerned about, especially considering all the more pressing worries she'd associated with the man who had just called her name.
She turned slightly so she could see the person who had come up so quietly. Radek stood awkwardly at the edge of the partially-opened curtain. He seemed a little flustered, as if he'd witnessed something private. She tried to imagine how the scene might look from his point of view, and concluded that perhaps he had wandered into the middle of a private moment. She couldn't prevent the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth when that thought occurred to her. This was the first time in her life when she genuinely didn't mind the intrusion.
"Hi," she said.
"I…I didn't know you were—" Radek stammered. He took a faltering step backwards. "I'll come back later."
"It's okay," Elizabeth said. "You should stay. You need to be here."
Radek stood motionless for several moments, neither turning to leave nor stepping beyond the edge of the white drape. After a long silence he said, "I didn't know you could sing."
"I can't, really."
"I liked it."
"I like your singing better than my own. I'd love to hear that lullaby of yours again, and I think Shadow—" Elizabeth stopped mid-phrase. Holding out her hand to Radek and beckoning him forward, she amended, "I think your daughter would like you to sing it, too."
TBC
--------------------
