Oh the apologies I owe! Guys, gals, I am so sorry for dropping off the face of the universe. I've been going through some stuff, tends to mess with the creative flow, but it's been days. Again, SO sorry. Therefore, have some compensation for the missed days - a dash of flare. (Hope it makes up for the absence at least a touch)
Khan made Eve go in first, and though it was pointless she didn't begrudge him his reasoning. She wouldn't be giving suicide by Klingon another attempt. There were easier ways to hate herself than on the torture table.
Lowering her hood, she picked up the ration box as she retreated to her corner of the cave. She pulled the blanket around her shoulder as she sat down, settling in.
The meal was lacking, though not as unpleasant as she expected. She polished off the entire thing, nearly resulting in a reverse of path for the food as her stomach churned at the sudden attack of solids.
That raised a question in her mind. "When you infected me... how many days was I out for?"
"Ten." He was still standing by the door, arms folded as he watched her polish off the day's worth of survival food. "Don't leave this cave again, or I'll be far less gentle."
"Gentle." She laughed under her breath, tapping her still bleeding cheek. It really did need to get cleaned and closed – she didn't like the look of the black things in the air. "Do you have any first aid equipment?"
Satisfied she understood his message, he went over to the bag and tugged out a silver box, walking over and settling down in front of her, flipping the latches on the case and pushing back the top to reveal a small kit.
"I'm a lot more qualified for that." She held out her hand. "Give it here."
"There's no mirror, you'll miss something." He let her hand hang in the air neglected, plucking up a silver packet and tear it open, taking out the sanitation solution pad, tugging her face to the side to expose her cheek. She breathed in sharply as he pressed the freezing cloth to her cheek, the cold not enough to blunt the pain of the solution.
"Sit still." He shook his head. "You don't make much of a patient, do you?"
"Funny." She said sarcastically as he pulled out a palm sized silver spray canister; sealant for the cut. She sat impatiently as he dosed the cut, waiting the few minutes for the spray to solidify into a hardened clear coat over the gash. "I don't think I've ever been tossed around by a guy and then patched up by him within the window of an hour."
"It's a habit for you to be thrown around by men is it?"
"No." She looked at him meaningfully. "And it doesn't happen again, are we clear? If you hit me, I'm gone. I'll go, and you won't see me again."
"You think there's a place you could go that I would not be able to track you down?" He challenged, the cave noticeably still.
"Well, I think it would be harder for you to follow me into the next life than most people think."
"You aren't weak enough to kill yourself."
"Suicide has been viewed as graceful and honorable by many cultures. A revival of honour."
"Concerned for your honor, are you?"
"No. I have none, I've accepted that."
"There's a serious flaw in your logic: you can hurt yourself, but I cannot?"
"The point is that what happens to me is my choice. If we're seriously doing this – if you want my help to take Starfleet down, then you need to show me respect. I may not have your strength, or your advancements, but I'm damn smart and plenty capable of making my own decisions. No more guiding me by the hand, chauvinistic imperialistic self-entitled bullshit. You need me, you can afford to treat me like an adult."
His brows furrowed as he considered that. Eve sighed, standing and walking over to his computer. He followed as she settled beside it, Eve peering down at the tablet and then the display. There was a constant stream of words and numbers flowing up the screen. "What is this showing us?"
"Encrypted communications records of high ranking Starfleet members." He touched the tablet, placing his hand into a dip she hadn't noticed before. The words on the screen halted, and then from the top left corner working its way right and down a line started to change the information to coherent sentences. He turned his hand, and the screen began separating the messages, logging them under a series of names.
"It's programed to your handprint." Eve shuffled closer to get a better look, tugging the blanket closer around her body.
He tapped a button on the display, and the screen went green. He twisted his hand, pressing his fingers deeper into the gel of the tablet. "Give me your hand."
She let him take her hand, and place it into the hollow. It was warm, and had a pleasantly pliable feel. It lit up red under her fingers, turning her skin orange. She flinched, nut his hand over her own kept he from moving it.
"It's alright." He promised her, watching the display as he began to show a copy of her handprint. The red light went out, and the screen flashed blue then returned to the list of Starfleet officials. He allowed her to take her hand back. "Your hand and mine are the only ones capable of making this work now. If we ever get separated, check under Odysseus Kane, I'll leave you coordinates of where to meet."
"Trust exercise, huh?" She flexed her fingers, recoiling further into blanket. "So, have they been talking about our exploits?"
"A great deal, naturally. The news is having a delightful time with you – Terrorist or Terrified, Earth renowned neurologist Doctor Evelette Swan confirmed as seen with the infamous John Harrison, suspect in the bombing of the Kelvin Memorial Archive," he said, clearly having read it somewhere. "No one seems able to decide if you're a victim or criminal."
"No one but Marcus," she guessed, reaching over and tapping on the tab labeled 'Alexander Marcus'. She pushed the first conversation bullet that caught her eye – the only one in red while the others were are green. There were thousands over the last few hours alone.
"Doctor Swan…" She murmured, leaning forward as she realized the message was for her – sent to her communicator but not yet listened to.
Doctor Swan, what the hell do are you playing at? We've searched your apartment, and your association with your patient has not gone unnoticed. We have several witnesses placing you leaving your facility with him. Eventually, I'll have the proof I need to end you, and when it's in hand I will hunt you down myself.
Harrison isn't the one to fear, doctor.
I am.
"He has a very high opinion of himself doesn't he?" She noted, closing the conversation quickly.
"If you had any doubts that our cause is just…" Khan opened up Marcus' latest message – an enquiry into the state of the weapons salvaged from London.
"Can you teach me to shoot properly?" She blurted impulsively, flushing as he raised an eyebrow at her. "For when I have a stun capable phaser."
"I don't think you have an aptitude for weapons."
"Well teach me how to defend myself then – hand to hand combat." She tried her most inviting smile. "It's going to come in handy – especially if us getting separated is a possibility. Eventually Starfleet is going to come looking for us, and my being unable to defend myself will slow you down."
"I thought I was not meant to hit you again." He pointed out with dry amusement.
"Well don't actually attack me." She bleated. "Just practice!"
"Half your body is bruised, can you even move?"
"Consider my bruising an incentive to learn quickly."
He shook his head, smirking slightly. "Go to sleep, Evelette."
"I had ten days of sleep." She complained, pushing the blanket off and standing expectantly. "Come of tough guy, let's see what you've got."
When he continued to read, she nudged him with her foot. Unsatisfied with the mild noise of discouragement he made, she swung her leg over his shoulder, intending to shut the screen with her foot.
He snatched her ankle mid swing, fingers curling round her ankle. She gasped, swaying precariously as she was forced to balance on one foot. He got to his feet, not releasing her and forcing her to struggle to keep upright. Then he tugged her leg sharply, pulling it passed his right side as she fell towards him. He kicked out her other leg, arms snaking around her torso as she fell toward the floor, carrying her weight as the fall instantly turned into a simple lowering.
Khan placed her gently on the floor, her heart crushing against her chest as it beat rapidly, her hair draped around her head like a fire storm. She was breathing shallowly, acutely aware of his arm that was still around her waist, the other supporting his body weight through forearm by her head. He was pressed against her, so close she felt the cold trickle over her skin as he breathed out. He leaned his head to one side, taking in her face as she flushed.
For just an instant, she wanted more than anything to lean forward and kiss him.
"Go to sleep, Eve." He said softly, and then he slid off her, picking up the blanket as she sat up, moving forward to pull it around her. She touched his hand as he went to move away, holding his gaze. Then she released him, shuffling over so her head was near the computer but her back was to him as he began working again.
It was the first time she took genuine comfort in being close to him.