From bi185@FreeNet.Buffalo.EDU Wed Dec 3 22:15:23 1997 Date: Wed, 3 Dec 1997 11:02:50 -0500 (EST) From: Rachel Lynn Brody Reply-To: seaQuest-ff@escapenet.org To: seaQuest-ff@stgenesis.org Subject: (sQ-ff) FANFIC: Out of the Shadows Resent-Date: Wed, 3 Dec 1997 10:24:44 -0600 (CST) Resent-From: seaQuest-ff-request@escapenet.org Hey all! Here's the piece of fic I mentioned earlier... I just wrote it a week or three ago, anyway...I'd really appreciate some feedback on this one. ******************************************************** DISCLAIMER: seaQuest is not owned by me, but this story and the situation are mine. ******************************************************** For Claire. ******************************************************** "Out of the Shadows" By Rachel Brody "But no one ever talked in the darkness No voice ever added fuel to the fire No light ever shown in the doorway Deep in the hollow of earthly desires But if in some dream there was brightness If in some memory some sort of sign And flesh be revived in the shadows Blessed our bodies would lay so entwined And I will oh I will not forget you Nor will I ever let you go I will oh I will not forget you..." -"I Will Not Forget You", Sarah McLachlan She had left a single rose on the grave. Long-stemmed and a dark, rich shade of red. She'd been careful not to prick her finger as she'd set it across the plaque that read simply, "Wendy Smith, 1990-2022". Lonnie had sat at the foot of Wendy's grave all afternoon, deep into the night, until a cemetery guard had come and told her she'd have to leave. And then it had taken her twenty minutes to tear herself away from the plaque. She'd let her fingers brush it as she'd left, leaving a kiss that would have to withstand weather until she could return. Now it was ten o'clock, and she was curled in a booth in an all-night coffee shop, three blocks away from the Chatton Institute. Something about the proximity to Wendy's old school was helping to ease the ache in her chest, though she doubted she'd ever be fully rid of it. She didn't want to be, of course, because she'd have to let go her beloved memories...the only thing she had left of her love. With her mind, Lonnie reached out. But same as every other time she'd tried to do it since returning from Hyperion, she was met with only her own thoughts. She remembered the last time she and Jonathan had been kissing on leave, and he'd wanted to go further, and she'd stopped him and said she couldn't. He'd thought it was because she wasn't ready. She didn't want to tell him it was because she felt too trapped, too constricted, without Wendy's mind guiding her. Without the familiar touches on the inside of her mind, as well as on her body... "Excuse me," said a voice from somewhere above her. Lonnie looked up, and found herself staring into a pair of blue-green eyes, framed by a pale complexion and dark hair. "Yes?" she asked. "I..." The young woman, who looked to be about twenty-five, slid into the seat across from Lonnie without saying anything. Her voice was low. "I just thought you might want to know...you're projecting." "I'm--" Then Lonnie realized what the young woman was talking about, and felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. *Idiot, thinking about _that_ in a roomful of telepaths...* ...or at least people who were more likely to be telepaths than anyone else she'd been around lately. "Oh, God, I'm sorry." The young woman smiled and shook her head. "It's fine..." she said, looking at Lonnie carefully. "I'm sorry, I hate to ask, but have we met before?" "I don't think so," Lonnie replied. "Lonnie Henderson." The girl thought a moment more, then realization dawned on her petite features. "Wendy's girlfriend," she said quietly, "I knew there was something about you." Lonnie cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't remember you," she said. "Ami Sinclaire. Alan Sinclaire's little sister." It took another moment for the names to register, then the memories hit full-force. Her first real date with Wendy, three and a half months before the KrayTax had stolen the _seaQuest_. Stolen their future together... There had been a party for one of Wendy's classmates from Chatton, who'd just gotten tenure at a major university, and Wendy had managed to talk Lonnie into going with her. Telepaths were more open-minded than most people, she'd explained, they had to be. Wendy'd worn a light blue v-neck outfit, that set her eyes afire, and Lonnie had picked out a lavender dress that Wendy said complimented her figure. The guests had, for the most part, blurred into a haze of mist and memory, but now that the girl across the table had identified herself, Lonnie remembered the fifteen-year-old who'd just applied to Chatton's program. The second telepath in the family, her brother had joked, Ami's talents had been focused in telepathy, with a lesser degree of kinetics thrown into the mix. It had made for an interesting evening. But now... "You're..." Ami smiled. "Yeah, older, I know..." She trailed off. "I'm sorry about Wendy." Lonnie shrugged. "It was nothing any of us could have seen coming," she murmured, bringing her cup to her lips and taking another sip of her cafe mocha. She and Wendy used to have the nicest nights, curled up around each other on leave and sipping coffees...Wendy was an incredible cook. "Are you okay?" she heard Ami ask, somewhere outside the wisps of memories. "Yeah," she said quickly. But her voice trembled, giving her away. "God, I'm sorry," Ami said, getting ready to stand. "I Shouldn't have-- I mean--" "It's okay," Lonnie said again, holding in a half-sob and standing herself. "I'm just overtired and this is the first time I've been here since..." She should leave, she knew, before she started thinking too much and wound up in tears. But the thought of going back to her hotel, or worse, to _seaQuest_, was enough to bring tears into her eyes. If she went back to the boat, someone would notice she was so upset. Tony, or Tim, or worse yet, Ford or Hudson. She didn't think she could stand questions right now. It had been bad enough, keeping her mouth shut at the funeral. Being strong and pretending that Wendy's death upset her no more than Miguel's had. When all she'd wanted to do was break down in tears. Ask Bridger why he'd let Smith stay out of stasis so long, why he'd let her help the rebels... Ami nodded silently. "Look...you want to come over for a while?" Her question was met with a confused expression, and she smiled slightly. "I live just around the corner...I could make us coffee and we could just talk a while, if you wanted..." Henderson looked up, wondering if Ami was reading her mind, or if she was broadcasting, or what...then she decided it didn't matter. Better to be with someone who knew everything there was to her, or could at least see it without much effort, than to surround herself with strangers who thought she was an open book. Just now, Lonnie didn't think she could put up with all the masks life required... * "...Lonnie?" Henderson was lying on her side, facing the wall. She didn't answer the voice, nor did she respond to the light touch on her arm. "Lonnie, you know I don't want to do this..." "But you are," she replied tersely, biting back tears. "It's not permanent. It's just that the rebel doctors don't know enough about human physiology to get everyone under...by the time I finish, they'll know enough." "Then I want to stay awake and they can put me under, too." "No." Wendy's voice was soft, but firm. "Every moment you're awake, it gets more dangerous." "Then you're not sure you'll even make it to get everyone else awake..." Henderson turned over to face her lover, tears now glistening on her cheeks. "Wendy, please..." She saw her own pain echoed in Smith's eyes as the doctor shook her head. "I can't. I have to stay awake until everyone else is under." "You don't _have_ to do anything!" *"Yes I do,"* said a soft voice, a gentle touch, in her mind. Psi-blind, but able to feel Smith's touch despite it, Lonnie's mind wrapped itself around the tiny thread of her other half. She could feel a soft tug as Wendy worked herself loose, and saw the expression of discomfort... "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just..." she broke off, sitting up as Wendy moved next to her, arms moving around bodies until they were holding each other, so tight, and Henderson found herself whispering into Smith's neck, kissing her skin at the same time. "I know," Wendy murmured against Lonnie's hair, rocking her gently. "I'm scared, Lonnie, I won't lie to you..." She moved slightly, till lips met lips, and gently kissed her. She pulled away far too soon. "This is dangerous...I'm scared. But it's going to work. It's got to." Fingers rifled Lonnie's hair, making her feel like a child being calmed. The trouble was, Wendy's reassurances weren't doing anything to let her stop worrying. She didn't say another word, though. Just let Smith hold her, rock her, whispering that everything would come out alright and they'd be together again soon...heard Bridger walk in and didn't even care, despite the months they'd work to keep everything secret... * "...she might have been scared," Lonnie whispered, "but I didn't know how to make her see that I couldn't see living without her." Across the coffee table, Ami was curled in an armchair, sipping tea. Lonnie's coffee sat, untouched, between them as she sat in the crook of the arm of the sofa. Ami's apartment was small, but cozy, and far from cramped, though the girl's tastes ran a tad eclectic. "God," she whispered. "I don't think I could have lived with something like that." Blowing her nose with tissues the other woman had supplied soon after she'd started talking, Lonnie shrugged. "It wasn't something I had a say in," she murmured. And that was true. Once Wendy had made her mind up, it wasn't as though simple words could change it. All Lonnie had was that final mindtouch, where she'd tried to hold on tight to some small piece of her love, some wisp of memory. She'd wound up hurting her, though. *Just another piece of me, wanting a piece of her...* *"I'm sure Wendy didn't see it that way,"* said a soft voice in her mind. Lonnie's gaze jerked up from where it had lain on the couch, meeting Ami's eyes. The other woman already looked somewhat uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to freak you out." Lonnie managed a weak smile. "I've been with a telepath before," she said. "I just wasn't expecting..." *...to hear another voice in my head.* She'd almost forgotten what it felt like... * ...The first time. Gods, the first time, she'd been so small and so scared when minds had first touched like bodies...something new, it seemed, there was always something new and fresh and wonderfully frightening when she was with Wendy. She'd never been with a woman before, and never been with anyone like _this_ before, mind-to-mind and body to body, everything touching and winding around each other and perfect, and Wendy had been there but not just kissing her, not just touching her, but inside her mind and gentle touching her all over, warming her from somewhere deep inside. She'd gasped from surprise when the first trickle had begun, and almost pulled away, but she instinctively knew she could trust her partner's judgement...that Wendy would never hurt her, never let anyone or any_thing_ hurt her...that here, curled in arms and around bodies and kissing and touching and everything and in each other's minds, she was safe. Time had passed without distinction, and they'd been inside each other's minds for what seemed like eternity. Somewhere in the darkness, hours later, Lonnie had found herself drifting away, then finally separated from Wendy's mind. Isolated and alone again, and they'd laid in bed kissing each other, Wendy's hands moving gently over her arms, kissing her throat, murmuring how much she loved her and how they'd never have to be alone again. Pressed against each other, loving and warm, finally drifting to sleep in the circle of her lover's arms... * Her eyes were wet again, tears again. Ami was watching her, had just listened to everything she'd poured out, in both words and memories. Watching her quietly, silently. Lonnie looked over at her, managing a small, fake smile. "I'm sorry...this..." but she trailed off again. She almost didn't notice as Ami stood, walked over, and sat next to her, holding her and rocking her. "It's alright," Ami whispered, stroking her hair. "I understand." Ami had made her first joining when she was eighteen, with a boy two years her senior who was attending Chatton. They'd been dating for close to a year and a half, and she'd invited him to her prom, and she hadn't been able to think of any time more special...and he'd been worried that he was pressuring her into things, she'd had to keep telling him she wanted it as badly as he did. And even then, once he was convinced, she'd had trouble opening so completely to another human being. *And we were together and we were happy and then...* And then he'd been accepted to the Navy and he'd gone away, enlisted on some ship that had gone down in the early stages of the Macronesian Wars, and she'd never seen him again. And the two women sat in each others arms, deep into the night. END Copyright 1997 Rachel Brody ******************************************************** Again, please send comments here (bi185@freenet.buffalo). Thank you. 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