Disclaimer: I own nothing. I update every Sunday with college permitting. Please leave a review with what you thought and what you want to see next. I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while; school got hectic but I just finished finals and I have a month before school starts again, but I'll be taking 5 classes then so I'll have to see how I can handle that.
Chapter 5: A Moment
The room is dark as the sun finishes crossing over the horizon. Abigail lights the fire with a long red lighter. She stands up when she finishes and arches her back, her hands rubbing at a sore spot, and her neck rotating in a long circle. Saren watches the movement and arches an eyebrow when she grimaces as she sits down. Saren resists the urge to reach his hand out and try to ease her pain. In his culture it is rude to touch someone without first asking so he finds himself inclined to rest his hands folded on his lap, he tries to resist the urge to look at her.
She twists her torso around and he can hear a distinguished pop, she clasps her hands above her and makes a C shape, her breasts becoming more prominent from the movement, before lowering her hands and pulling her chin to the left and right in a painful looking movement. She rolls her shoulders forward and back for about the fifth time before he actually says something.
"Vulcan neuropressure is a mental and physical technique for relaxing the mind and muscles" he says very matter-of-factly. Abigail doesn't take note of his words and makes the C shape again. Saren stands from his chair and sits beside her on the couch. She watches him out of the corner of her eyes as he lifts his hand up and inclines it toward her. "If you would allow me.." he trails off and she lowers her arms.
"Okay" she all but mouths and Saren takes hold of her shoulders and moves her body to face away from him. He presses his fingers along a vertebra and out of surprise of how good it feels she finds herself unable to suppress a moan. If she had been facing him she would have noticed a slight green tint to his ears. Neither of them say anything and she does her best to stay on top of every noise as he moves his hands gingerly down her spine.
It's not like she has ever moaned during a massage before, which shows just how good this feels, his hands skimming and his fingers pressing down gently and firmly on all of the correct points, making her wonder how similar the Vulcan body must be to a humans, makes her wonder how many things between their physiology and culture are similar. Abigail is one of those people who have never felt like a massage is an intimate act, but now she is feeling extremely awkward and vulnerable, like her entire self is laid bare in front of him and his masterful hands hold all of the control over her. She suppresses another moan.
She feels the aches and pains slowly slip away as she finds herself to be putty in his hands. She resist the urge to turn around and look at him, she resists the urge to press herself further into his touch. His fingers seemed to linger just a moment too long before they separate from her body. She turns around to look at him, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, though his eyes are defiantly away from hers, and she notices him sigh in that way that isn't exactly sighing and she knows he would adamantly deny if she brought it up.
She looks away quickly before turning her eyes to him again and painting a sweet smile on her face. "Thank you" she says gratefully.
"It is of no consequence" he says in that way he does, using the sophisticated words that he had learned from skimming the English dictionary that she keeps on the top shelf of her slender bookshelf. He smiles in that way that isn't quiet smiling and looks at her with a quizzical face that isn't quite quizzical. She studies him in return.
He looks a little more green than usual. The heat that is radiating off of his body is a little more hot and for a moment Abigail considers putting out the fire sitting upon the brick and mortar, but she dismisses this thought. His shoulders are stiff and he seems to be sitting just a little more stiffly and straight than usual. His shoulder are broad and the cat is now moving on the back of the couch and his front paws are testing his shoulders, stepping atop them slowly. Saren doesn't seem to notice. He walks a little too forward and tumbles down his chest and onto his lap. Saren doesn't seem to notice this either and the cat doesn't seem to care as he licks a paw with his sandpaper tongue before pawing at Sarens flat stomach. Sarens eyes do not waver from her. His gaze is intense and it almost scares her how afraid she is of losing this gaze. She doesn't know what to make of it. She closes her eyes again before daring to meet his eyes.
Its only when their eyes finally meet that he seem to notice what he's doing, but he doesn't look away immediately. His eyes seemed to be saying something, something neither of them understand and both of them are afraid to say out loud. He lingers for a moment and turns his face downwards. She follows his eyes and watches the cat kneed his thigh. Abigail almost laughs and reaches her hand out and scratches the cats chin, he purrs loudly in return. She wonders absentmindedly if Vulcans can purr. She gets caught up in the cat and when she realizes how close to him she is she starts to pull her hand back. But then she is mesmerized by the warm strength surrounding the appendage and she looks down and sees Saren's large hand covering her own, making it look far more delicate.
She looks up and their eyes meet again. He had never looked at her so serious before, so intensely, his eyes wash over her in waves and she forgets to breathe for a moment. She would never quite understand how intimate this is to a Vulcan, how close this is to a Vulcan kiss as three of his fingers fold inward and he trails the other two down her forearm and her wrist, almost stopping over her pulse point. Their eyes only separate for a moment as hers drop to his lips before returning steadily to his eyes. Her lips part slightly on their own accord and she looks dazed, almost hypnotized. She's not even aware of time, though she is sure that he could calculate the very second.
She notices absentmindedly how close they have gotten, she can feel his breathe tickling her nose, it smelled minty because he had brushed his teeth just after their early dinner had ended. Very early dinner actually, but they couldn't help it when the sun sets so early this time of year. She almost breaks this distance, her mind going blank, unaware of any consequences or doubts, she really almost does. But despite the secluded place where they live, despite how dark it is outside (though its only about 6pm), despite all sense a loud knock on the door erupts the room with realization and she falls back away from him, stands up quickly, smooths out her jeans, and orders Saren to hide in his room as she answers the door.
FedEx, of course it was FedEx. How many moments does FedEx interrupt delivering an illegal package? She signs her name on the electronic tablet before taking the small box into her arms. She hugs it limply to her body and remains unmoving from the spot until the man in the dark brown uniform steps into his equally brown truck and drives it past her view. She steps into the house and closes the door behind her.
"He's gone" Abigail calls out but Saren doesn't emerge from the room until she has the package on the kitchen table and is fishing a small long knife out of a drawer. He stands in the doorway and watches her run the blade through the thick tannish tape. She pulls apart the flaps and pulls out the contents of the box, laying them out in a neat row on the table. She goes through a checklist of whats in front of her. "Birth certificate, baby foot print, shot records, social security card, drivers license, state id, and passport." she says everything slowly, examining each item until satisfaction before stating its existence. "Well sir you now have an identity, Mr. Samuel Cameron Saren" she reads from the passport before looking up at him and smiling a whimsical smile. She drops her gaze and places the item back on the table in its place before moving away and letting Saren examine everything for himself. A quietness hovers over the room as Saren's fingers trace over the paper.
"It looks authentic to me" she says somewhere behind him, "though I wouldn't push my luck." She can almost feel him arching an eyebrow "Just don't rely on it too much, this is for emergencies." She looks at his back for a moment and he stands up a little straighter. "I'll leave it to you" she says from somewhere far off and leaves for her room. Saren almost turns around, almost clears his throat, almost calls out to her, but that would be too human, that wouldn't be acting solely on logic. So he continues his scrutiny, suddenly even less able to focus on his task. He gives up the effort after a few minutes and instead decides to meditate atop his bed, finding it necessary to clear his cluttered and illogical mind.
He sits on the thick mattress and crosses his legs. He folds his hands on his lap and closes his dark eyes. A deep humming sneaks through his lips from the deep recesses of his thoughts. An ancient Vulcan lullaby his mother would sing to him when he was young. When he was a very young child and he was leaning to meditate, learning how to control the emotions running deep in his veins, when he was ornery and a complete nightmare his mother would sing. He found it soothing and after the first three verses he would find his center and his mother would wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, he would resist the urge to smile or make other happy baby noises and would instead fall asleep on the meditation mats.
He hasn't even heard this song in a very long time but he now finds the tune bubbling to the surface of his chest out of necessity. He resists the urge to speak the words, worrying the direct thought to his mother would become too much. He settles on humming, the deep throaty noise reaching his ears and calming his mind better than any traditional meditation ever could. If he was human he would say that he is homesick, but he's not. But he still doesn't justify this, he is alone now and his humming is too low for even Abigail to hear a floor above him. He just let himself go to the extent that he is capable and for once doesn't analyze anything, his mind finally clears and he finds himself able to slip under his cover and into a deep dreamless slumber.
Disclaimer: Thank you for reading this far, and again I'm sorry for the wait. If you want another chapter soon please leave a comment with what you thought and what you want to see next. I'm trying to get into a schedule in which I write a little every day, so for this month between semesters I should be able to update regularly.