[Indicates thoughts]
*emphasis*
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November, 2261
[Don't be nervous. It's just a job. Fold shirt, place in bag.]
[Don't be nervous. It's just a job. Fold pants, place in bag. Rearrange pants.]
[Don't be - oh to hell with it. I'm scared out of my wits and I've every right to be that way! Dump bag's contents out onto floor, and kick!]
"You're a telepath," she hissed to herself. "You don't *have* *any* rights!" Even the gritted-teeth whisper echoed in the empty room. Her furnishings - everything except a traveling bag and a few changes of clothes, in fact - was already gone. It was slightly easier on her beaten credit account to store them, than pay rent on empty quarters for however long she'd be gone. At least a month. Probably longer.
Lyta blinked down at the floor, willing away the tears. "You should at least be nice enough to not leave a mess. It's not like you'll be coming back to clean up, stupid."
Probably a lot longer, if anyone found out who or what she was. And they would. What she was, was the reason she had to go. Lyta had a bad feeling about the trip, one that was well-founded. It wasn't exactly a vacation. She was going so that she could kill people. Because those were her orders.
Since she was the sole occupant of the room, she decided that she'd better be the one to pick up the clothes and put them away . . . again. Sitting down on the cold tiles, she grabbed a handful of garments at random and re-stuffed them into her bag. Then the pulled everything out again to rearrange it, once more.
[Maybe they'll be nice, and will be quick when they kill me. The resistance is known to be fast - at least, number one was that way when I was last there. It'd be better to be found out by them than by Clarke's minions. . . Or the Corps. By all things I've ever considered Holy, please let it not be the Corps that I end up with!!]
[Hell, maybe I'll get through this alive. Be a hero like the rest of them.] The sudden burst of cheerfulness surprised her, and a weak laugh escaped her lungs. It faded quickly, however.
[Well, maybe they'll remember me with kindness. Lyta, who gave her life because Sheridan and the others had told her to. Maybe I'll end up with a little statue in the gardens somewhere. . . Franklin did try to cheer me up by saying that the rest of the altered teeps will be able to get help once they can be shipped to earth. Yeah, right. The same kind of 'help' I received for saving Kosh's life 5 years back - the Corps will take them, and they'll never be seen again.]
[Maybe the statue will have flowers around it. Maybe - Aah!] She jumped when the door chimed at her. [ ??? ]
[It's past midnight, who the heck could it be?]
"Who is it?" She asked carefully.
"It's Zack, Lyta . . . If you're not busy, can I come in to talk?"
Lyta looked around at the barren room, as if it's bare walls would hold a clue as to why he'd come. [To say bye? I'm leaving in just under 4 hours, but he's pretty much ignored me since August. No. Probably just wants to go over some last-minute security details. Doesn't exactly hang around to chat anymore, does he,] she thought in annoyance. "Come."
Zack came in, blinking at her. Surprise at her appearance flicked for a nanosecond on his face before the usual lack of expression replaced it. At least she guessed it was at her appearance. She had never scanned him, and never planned to. Her fragile shards of honor wouldn't let her - it was the one thing she knew that made her better than the Corps. Her gaze on him lasted only a moment. [No need to make him *think* I'd scan him.]
Her appearance was the likely culprit, anyway. She was in civvies, having crumpled up her Psi-Corps uniforms and thrown them into the closet hours before, then had sat down to cry away her grief before she ran out of tears and packed. "Hi. I wasn't expecting anyone. You wanted to talk?" She said bluntly, turning back to place the last bits of clothing into the bag before standing up to stare at the far wall.
"Yeah," he said, radiating awkwardness, "I wanted to wish you luck - the good kind, since bad luck is still luck. You know, I hope everything goes ok. That you get home in one piece."
"I don't have a home, Zack," she snapped at him, "just a room that they don't want me to have. Which, I might never see again after 4 a.m. today, because I'll be dead on some mars sanddune, not that anyone cares." She still didn't face him. "Just go away if you have nothing to say to me, yet again and *still*."
There was a long pause as he reeled from her acid tone, but they both knew he deserved it. "No." He finally said meekly.
"What?" She sounded confused.
His voice grew stronger. "No. I won't walk away from you, or abandon you. And I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. I thought that if I backed off for a while, you'd like space, after what had happened to you, but I guess I - and everyone - went too far in the opposite direction. I don't know, I haven't been brave enough to ask you how things were. I'd see the uniform, I wouldn't know what that creep did to get you in it, but I would know that I'd failed you. I care about you. I *care*. I just couldn't say it until now . . . Is it too late to apologize for being a coward?"
Lyta, back remaining turned, blinked at the wall to try to clear her eyes. He was being honest, she could sense it without even trying. He was also sincere, and worried. [Wor ried?] "You sound worried, Zack, why?"
"Because of the rumors of what the corps is doing to the underground. Because of what they - Psi Corps and the underground both - might do to you if they suspect you're with the other side. Because I care about you. Yes, professionally, the Chief of Security thinks you're a damn good telepath to have around, trustworthy and competent. But most of my concern isn't professional. It's personal. I care about a friend, especially I'm worried if she might go away still mad at me for being a dolt, or worse. I haven't missed the way you'd tense up around me, the mask that goes up behind your face to keep you separate from the big bad world. At the risk of making things worse, I want to try to make amends. And to see if I can do anything to help."
Lyta had begun to tremble. Zack walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder, just like he used to do. "Lyta?" He asked, concern growing from her stiff silence.
She turned and faced him, head at a slight angle, looking at him at his arm's length. Then, faintly, "I want you to help me not to think about it. To not think about anything. Excape, for a while. Give me a reason to want to come back, besides a very dubious safety."
Zack had panicked for a second when he saw the tear-trails on her cheeks, wondering if her mention of 'excape' meant she wanted to die, but she made her meaning a little clearer when she stepped up next to him and touched her lips to his nervously before backing away to stare at the floor, her face turning red. Zack blinked in surprise. "You're . . . sure you want *me*?" His voice is a little awed, wondering why a woman as good as her would want *him*.
"There isn't anyone else here! I - I just - I guess I shouldn't have . . . You have a choice, Mr. Allan. Either stay and seduce me past madness, or leave. I won't stop you either way." She stared at the floor, arms crossed in front of her defensively.
. . .
Zack stayed. He had promised that he wouldn't walk away . . . and he wanted to stay, besides. He wanted to be with Lyta, and hadn't had any other women to distract him for a very long time.
He did manage to distract her past madness. They kept each other from thinking until Lyta's alarm yelled to let her know to get ready to go to the docking bays. Lyta mumbled something Zack didn't quite catch in his pleasure, but they couldn't finish as well as either would have liked.
He held her very close to him, hearts racing and skin soaked, imprinting the way she felt into his brain. They both knew she'd be gone for at least a month. Possibly a lot longer. Zack finally sat up, letting her hug him. "You should shower, my love," he whispered in her ear. "If you go smelling like me . . ."
Lyta smiled into his skin. "I can think of worse things. But I guess you're right, if someone comes looking for us . . . " She let the sentence dangle as she slowly removed herself from around him. She sat up next to him on the floor, looking for a second at the scattered clothes spread all over. She didn't have time to shower and repack. She had to choose one or the other.
"I'll do it." Zack suddenly said, breaking her revere. "It'll help keep me from getting in there with you . . . I'm tempted very badly." He couldn't keep his eyes completely on her face as he added the last part.
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed him again, letting him taste himself with herself on her tongue before pulling away with a fractured expression. [I guess I'm not the only one tempted,] Zack marveled.
"Wash!" He ordered playfully, grabbing the nearest item of clothing and flicking it at her. She smiled at what he held, looking over her shoulder at him as she turned the corner to the restroom. Zack looked puzzled for a second at her expression, then realised what item he held, dropping it in embarrassment. Then he got annoyed at himself, he'd been more intimate with Lyta than it ever had. Hell, he'd helped take it off a few hours before. He got up, rummaged for his own undergarments, and put the clothes and personal effects Lyta'd had in her bag back into it, zipping it closed just as Lyta came back. He couldn't help but smile at the way she looked. Glorious . . . bitten, too. [I think I was a tad rough on her - but I've got the marks to match! :) ] She picked up the shirt she'd had on when he'd arrived, watching him watching her.
"Your turn," she reminded him as she fastened the buttons.
"Huh?"
"The shower?" She had to grin. She hadn't had this effect on a man in a long, long time, that stunned appreciation expression. She'd missed it. She'd been missing a lot, like the wonderful inner sensations Zack had given her. She passed him a kiss on the cheek as he moved beside her, getting a return touch on her own, and a stray hand touching her still- bare legs momentarily on his way to clean. She got dressed, pulled her unruly hair back into a ponytail to get it out of her way, and tidied up the remnants of her presence during his brief absence. [I still don't know if I'm going to come back alive or not . . . but I sure as hell WANT to now . . . he's been wanting me for more than a few months, I could tell. The kind of want that can last through a long absence.] Her bad mood had long since faded.
She grinned at him as he came back into the room, pulling his shirt over his head again and fastening his uniform jacket. "Hi, handsome," she greeted him.
He paused, and smiled at her while wrapping his arms around her waist to kiss her again. "My sweet, kind, beautiful Lyta," he whispered into her ear. "You . . . are going to be very late if we don't run right now for the docks!"
She straightened just long enough to glance at the chronometer on the wall, swore mildly, and grabbed her bag on the way to the door. Zack paused just long enough to nab her forgotten identicard off the otherwise empty counter and walked after her at a quick pace, catching up with her as she waited anxiously for the lift. The trip didn't take but a few min utes, and they didn't meet any crowds due to the extremely early hour. There was only a few others, far down the halls, until they got to the docks where Franklin was pacing.
"You're almost 10 minutes late, what the hell happened?" He exclaimed.
Lyta was about to speak, trying to figure out what to say, when Zack jumped in for her. "If the corps thinks she's involved with any of this in general, she's as good as imprisoned, vanished, or dead. They're not going to admit to altering blips for the shadows, are they. I've arranged to keep her identicard here, to make it easier to fake not leaving. Do you want the same thing, or do you think it would be better to keep yours with you, in case we actually DO win and you get a ticker-tape parade?"
Franklin thought for a second. "Well, the underground is bound to recognise me, as long we can find the same cell, and the fake ID's are working fine . . . but I think I'd better hang onto mine, it has medical access, and I have some old friends who might be able to help in a pinch. Keeping hers here is a good idea, though. I'd hate to see you splattered, Lyta. Ready?"
She gave a faint smile, nodding.
"I'll make sure it's all cleaned up," Zack said, with only two of the three there knowing his full meaning. Lyta's smile flickered a tad brighter before she turned to go.
As they walked to the ship, she was a step behind Franklin, and glanced over her shoulder back at Zack. He blew her a kiss, which she mimed catching and placing in her pocket to keep. Zack was grinning at her like a lovestruck schoolboy as she rounded the corner and lost sight of him.
She sighed, and hurried to keep up with the doctor. It was going to be a long and danger ous trip. She wasn't looking forward to it. Lyta's nervousness began to return, slowly.
She couldn't shake the feeling she wasn't going to walk down this hall on a return trip. She just couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't coming back with Franklin . . .
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