-11-

Her heart had missed a beat for a second. She swallowed.

She knew he was behind her but she didn't turn.

You didn't hear it, she told herself.

But she knew she did. She knew he had said it.

She took a deep breath and without turning around she put an unsure step forward. When she was sure she wouldn't fall, she began to walk determinedly towards the airlock.

She felt his presence coming closer more than she heard his footsteps. She wanted to walk faster, but decided that she shouldn't. If she ran – she would risk breaking down in front of him. She couldn't afford that.

He came up close behind her and kept a hand on her right shoulder making her stomach flip. She had to stop. She couldn't run away from his touch.

His fingers trailed down from the arch of her shoulder to the back. She wondered if she imagined feeling his fingers burning a trace around her tattoo. She closed her eyes. She had to control herself.

"What do you want?" she said – her voice choked in her throat.

He clasped the same shoulder and turned her around.

She couldn't look at him – looking at him especially now that he knew; it would mean all the pain and memories of her childhood – all the lonely years she spent wondering if he thought of her – all the grief she felt in getting over her family's loss – all these feelings would flood her again.

Her eyes were tightly shut when she turned around.

"It is you." He whispered.

No. She shook her head.

His thumb ran down her forehead – down the scar of a life long lost. She felt as though he had trailed a line of fire down it.

Her eyes snapped open and she flinched back – breaking contact with his fingers and her skin.

"How dare you?" she said, coldly.

How dared he! He had left her after his mission – she never admitted it to herself but she had felt the resentment boiling over her now. He was her only friend after her family was so brutally taken away from her. He had left her in the hospital and she never saw him again.

He had purposely kept her out of his life.

She had no right, to think this way, she told herself. He was a marine. He did his job. He did more than his job – he had saved her beyond all hope. She could not possibly expect him to return to a fourteen-year old. She could not possibly think that the things he told her made her his automatic confidante. She could not possibly expect him to honour the promise of friendship he had made to her when he held her hand in the hospital bed as he wished her goodbye.

She could not expect him to be her guardian for life.

That she had wanted all this then – she attributed it to the naïveté of her age. She was older now – it was time to grow up.

"I'm sorry." It was a low whisper that sifted through her mind. They were his words.

That snapped something inside of her.

She felt a feeling come up to her throat and wondered if it was bile, or the tide of emotions that she was sure she couldn't control.

She sobbed and for once she was sure her shield of titanium fell apart. She saw something in his brown eyes – his expression was pained – it was pitiful.

What was he sorry for? For leaving her? – No, that was part of his job. For all the years gone by? He couldn't be.

What was he sorry for?

Her?

She wouldn't have it.

Pity – she simply would not stand for.

She gave an indignant gasp and whirled around and walked towards the airlock.

He caught her hand, this time, before she could get away. She moved instinctively to deflect him, but he blocked her actions and pushed her towards the wall.

She winced as her head hit it. "Fuck! I'm sorry." He said. She knew this time it was because of her head.

She struggled to get out of his grasp, but he kept his hand firmly fixed on her arm.

"It's okay." She replied, in a desperate attempt to let loose. She didn't want to do what her body – trained for combat – told her. She didn't want to knee him – or flip him, or aim the gun at him. She just wanted him to stop touching her.

"Let me go."

"Not so fast."

"Let me go, or I'll make you." Her eyes met his. "And believe me, I can."

He caught her other shoulder, pinning her to the wall and said, "Just give me a minute."

She stopped struggling and waited. He relaxed his grip a little and sighed. She wet her lips waiting.

"You're minute's up." She said when she felt his grip relax totally.

Her ploy worked. He was startled when she pushed him away and walked briskly away. He caught up with her again, just as she had entered the airlock – this time he didn't apologize when he pushed her against its walls. "Would you just stay still for a minute?"

"Goddamn it!" She spat. She rarely showed frustration – to anyone. She wasn't about to start showing it to him. He tightly turned the lever shut, with his other hand. She swiftly swung her knee up – he was smarter. He blocked it – using his knees he flattened her legs against the walls invading way into her personal space.

This was something she wasn't prepared to handle.

"Damn it, Reaper!" She hissed – she shut her eyes and turned her face away. She felt her chest rising against his as he pushed himself against her to stop struggling. He was breathing heavily too.

"Let me go." She said – her eyes were still closed.

"Why the fuck won't you look at me?"

"Why the fuck should I?"

"Goddamn it Kaela!"

Her eyes flew open. "Don't you bloody dare call me that!" She said, loudly. She tried to push him away but he pressed closer.

"Why not? It's your name, isn't it?"

"No."

"No? Then what is it? Kelly? Phoenix?"

"Get off me or I swear I'll kill you."

She gripped his shoulder and tried her level best to shove him – if only she could have some leg space.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing happened to me. Get off me you bloody prat!"

"Come on, Kaela, I don't want to be doing this!"

"Go to hell, Reaper!"

"I just want to –"

"Want to what?" She stopped struggling and stared at him. Her voice had risen to a level she normally didn't use. A level where her voice actually sounded like her own.

"Want to what? John? Talk? Apologize? Do what? Catch up? Ask me why I'm here?"

John hesitated. She shook her head. Even he didn't know.

"Look," she said, looking away. She hated his goddamn eyes. "There's nothing for you to want to do. That's that."

"Why'd you change your name?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"Please."

She looked back at him. Why did he have to say that? Why couldn't he force her? It would be so much easier to fight him.

"Look," he said, she felt his knees relax against her legs, "I know I don't have any right…"

"You're bloody right." She intervened.

"…but…I."

She couldn't hear it. Whatever reason he had that made him look almost…guilty. She couldn't stand that. That was what had weakened her ten years ago – that would weaken her now. His pity was easier to handle – if he pitied her, she could resent it and block it. If he looked like that – as though he felt her pain, as though he knew what she had felt – as though he could see into her mind – she wouldn't survive this mission.

"I didn't." She said, quickly. "Quinn is my mother's maiden name. I didn't feel like being called Kaellen any more."

"I guess – I understand."

"Do you?"

He gave her a smile of sincere regret. "No, I don't. I'm sorry."

"Are we done?"

"Why here?"

"What?"

"Why this…the Rangers, the marines?"

"It's a free country."

"It's not…" He broke off.

"Not what?"

"Nothing."

She left it at that.

"Kelly, huh?"

"Kelly is what everyone called me, anyway."

"That's not what I called you." He said, softly.

She swore under her breath and slammed her head against the wall, herself.

He moved away from her, immediately. "I'm sorry." He said. "That was out of line."

"Damn right it was."

Suddenly, the lever of the airlock, opposite them, wheeled open. Genghis and Sandman walked in. She found herself frozen where she was. She knew there was no point trying to recover a straight face. She felt so hot her cheeks, she was sure they were flushed. Both men were startled to find them there and moreover she was sure they were taken aback by the look on her face and the fact that she stood with her back glued to the door of the airlock and John stood – his body inches away from hers.

And he was shirtless.

"What the fuck is going on?" Genghis said; there was uncertainty in his voice.

A noisy creak behind her made her jump. She sprang away as the door behind her opened and Poet and the o'Rileys came in. They too seemed startled by the curious situation.

"You okay, Phoenix?" Poet said, looking suspiciously at John.

She took in a deep breath and said, "Yes, I'm fine."

She knew from the look on her faces they didn't believe her. After all, she didn't just nod, as she normally would – but she spoke. She spoke in her normal tone – not the fake low-pitched icy volume she preferred to keep.

"Really, it's nothing." She said, again, nervously, looking at their faces. Nervousness was an unusual thing for her – one she could see, they noticed.

She collected herself and readjusted her gun, she testily moved away from John, avoiding any contact with him. He stepped away, giving her space to move. She went to the door Genghis had just emerged from.

"Where are you going?" Poet said, just as she had exited.

"To bed." She said, swallowing the sob that emerged before she spoke.

"Oh."

She exhaled with relief as she hurriedly made her way to the bunkers.

John watched her go, letting a sob escape.

"What were you two doing here?" Genghis said, finally.

"Nothing." John said. Genghis had an accusatory tone, which John didn't care much for.

Genghis came up to him and said in a low determined voice, "Phoenix is off limits to you."

"What are you her bodyguard?"

"Don't get cute, Reaper!"

"If we were doing something wouldn't you have known?"

"Like hell!" Poet muttered.

"A – She can take care of herself." John said. "B – We were just talking."

"Phoenix doesn't just talk." Genghis growled. The rest of the men nodded. "And what the fuck were you just talking about, anyway?"

"Appreciate your concern for her and all. But it's none of your business." John turned around, made his way for the bunker. He couldn't help smiling. Who would've thought that Genghis off all the people would play big brother to her?

A frown, replaced his smile. That was of course, if he was being a brother and nothing more.

---

"So what's the thing between Genghis and you?"

"What?"

What the hell was he up to? She thought furiously working her fingers on the Ark computers. He had come early in the morning, looking strangely chirpier than he normally did, with a cup of coffee which she refused until he irritated her into taking it. She was trying to decode it so they could ensure that there would be no more surprises in a furious attempt to get her frustration out – under the pretence of helping Poet. It was just her luck that she had been alone.

She hated it when he forced her to speak. She didn't like talking. In fact she had succeeded in being silent until he asked her that ridiculous question.

"I mean – are you two –"

She wheeled around in her chair and snapped. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Like what?" He gave her a lopsided grin.

"Well, you're our field consultant, aren't you?" She said, condescendingly. "Go get consulted, or something." She shook her head in indignation and continued to work.

"Woah!" He said, sarcastically, "I guess you do have a tongue."

She punched in a few commands angrily and then swore. She shook her irritation off. She would not allow him to pry into her life.

"What are you so angry at me for, anyway?" He said, coming closer to her.

"I'm not angry at you."

"No?"

"No."

"Then why aren't you talking to me?"

"I'm not talking to you simply because I choose not to."

"Oh. It's a choice thing, eh?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She took in a deep breath and let it out and continued her work.

"So –"

She ignored him.

"So," he said, "I guess you choose not to tell me about you and Genghis."

She wanted to scream saying 'there's nothing to tell' but she knew she'd give him the satisfaction of whatever he was trying to pull.

"I guess not." He muttered, more to himself.

There was some silence which was entirely pointless because she was senselessly trying commands she had already tried. She couldn't concentrate with him around.

"So I guess, since we're working on the choice thing…" He said. She paused her work for a second waiting for him to complete.

"…I guess I could make a couple of choices, too."

She slowly began fiddling with the console, hearing every word he said.

"I mean," He said, "I could choose to call you Kaela, right?"

Angrily she pushed her chair away from the console, flinging the disks onto it. They bounced of it and landed in a clutter. She got up and nearly shouted. "You think this is a goddamn, joke isn't it, you wanker!"

He raised his eyebrows, leaning against the table near her with a smug expression on his face.

She exhaled heavily and folded her arms. "Fine, call me that. Then you might as well tell these guys everything. My parents, my brother and sister…fuck!" She gave a mock look of excitement. "Tell them how you saved me from death! Why don't you? I guess then you men can sit and compare notes as to what's the best way to save people, huh?"

His face paled.

"Kaela, I –"

"Arrgh!" She turned away, ready to stomp outside.

"Sorry!" He caught her wrist as she swung about. "Quinn! Phoenix! Kelly! Whatever! Okay! Look – I'm being an insensitive jerk."

"An insensitve jerk?" She turned back to him "That's an understatement!"

"I know!" he said, pulling her to him. She had no idea why she actually allowed him to even touch her. She pulled her hand out of his grasp. He retracted his hand, keeping his palm in a show of defence.

"I'm really sorry. Okay? I'll stop bothering you. I was just trying –"

"Trying to do what?"

"I don't know."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"I don't know."

"I don't want to tell you anything." She sobbed. "You have no right..."

"I know."

She swallowed, staring at his bent head. Then she turned around towards the fallen disks, and sank to retrieve them.

"It's just that –" he said. "I can't stand to see it."

"See what?" she said, still on her haunches.

"This ice queen thing you have…Kael – Phoenix. It's just…"

"I'm not the only one whose become tougher, John. Besides, what does it matter, now?"

"I guess, it doesn't. I know – I, of all should know it. I mean…I've seen…" he broke off.

She cursed herself for doing it, but she turned around, feeling sympathy for him. She had felt the same seeing his tired, unfeeling face when she first met him. She picked up the disks and resumed her work

"Phoenix, I promised you that I'd always be your friend."

She said nothing.

"I…I couldn't…"

"You're a soldier, Reaper," She said. "And you were a good one then, just as you are now. You don't have to explain."

"For what it's worth – I actually meant it."

She sighed. "I believe you."

"It's not an easy…"

"I know." She cut him off. "You don't have to explain."

She knew it in her head – but her heart still felt the pain.

"Can I just ask you one question, though?"

She turned around and gave him a look. "Is it about Genghis or anyone else?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No."

She nodded.

"Why the military?"

She smiled – a little wider than she wanted to smile. It was a genuine smile. "What can I say? I guess you made an impression on me."

---

"Phoenix?"

"Hmm…?"

Poet looked up from what he was doing and frowned. Getting an unnecessary acknowledgement from her was not usual. "I'm sorry I've been rude to you and stuff."

"You've never apologized before." She said, meeting his eyes.

"You've never talked so much before, either."

Phoenix stopped playing with the commands and looked at him.

Poet looked back at the panels of the core. "What's the thing between you and Reaper? Do you two know each other or something?"

She didn't answer. Poet looked at her and said, "Don't lie…you know I can see right through you."

She nodded.

"So, you two know each other?"

She nodded.

"What was he, like an ex-boyfriend?"

She sneered sarcastically. "He saved my life – a long time ago. I was just a kid." She directed her head to the computer and resumed her work..

Now that Poet didn't expect. "Oh?"

"Why are you so surprised?"

Poet didn't answer.

"I don't need optimers to see your feelings, Poet. You don't trust him. What's on your mind?"

"He's not like the rest of us, Phoenix."

"Well, I don't think he came willingly so –"

"No, Phoenix." Poet cut her off. He stood up and stepped over a residual pool of monster blood as he went towards the control panel and opened it up. "He's not like us as in humans."

"Why do you say that?"

"You believe what they said about him? That he was exposed to some alien DNA?"

She shrugged.

"He doesn't get hurt, like the rest of us."

She nodded.

"It's just that, when those things came out of the ark – I saw Reaper's emotions as he was killing them."

"And?"

"And, primal feelings, like hate – destruction…they take on a particular colour in humans…you all had that colour surrounding you. Reaper didn't."

"Well, if he's exposed to alien DNA, I don't think his neurotransmitters function like ours, Poet."

"Yeah, but you don't get it. His colour and the colour around those things…?"

She nodded for him to continue.

"Well, it was the same colour, Phoenix."

----

(A/n: PLEASE Please PLEASE Review! I just had writers block about how to go ahead from here. Reviews help, trust me!)