Coasting along the line between consciousness and sleep, Danika struggled to interpret the sounds that penetrated the fog. There seemed to be a great deal of activity around her, the sound of people working--very little conversation. She frowned, trying to make the sounds fit something she was familiar with. Scenes filled her mind as she struggled to make the sounds mesh with memories.
Not the village back home, she decided. It wasn't loud enough and there didn't seem to be any children's voices. Or women's for that matter.
The barracks?
That didn't fit either because she could hear heavy things being moved around.
The ship? That almost seemed to fit, except she couldn't think of any reason why she would sleeping in the hold where most of the work took place--the shifting and sorting of supplies, the servicing of equipment--and she could definitely hear sounds that indicated the use of tools and equipment.
The realization that she couldn't possibly be on the ship brought her upwards towards consciousness where fresher memories began to pour into her mind--the horrible discovery outside the cave; her flight; the exhaustion that seemed to suck away even any sense of self-preservation.
The last thing she remembered was falling and not even having the energy to get up or to care that she couldn't. Seth had picked her up anyway and then lifted her into his arms and carried her like one might a child, cradled against his chest.
That had comforted her, made her feel like she must have been wrong when she'd thought he considered her his enemy.
She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes.
Above her she could see ... rock, stalactites--artificial lights of some kind.
What the hell?
"I will get you something to eat now that you are awake."
The comment drew her gaze to the speaker and she studied Niles blankly for several moments, wondering why he seemed different. When he stood up and walked away, it hit her squarely between the eyes.
He wasn't wearing his hab-suit. He'd stripped down to nothing but his briefs. He wasn't even wearing his boots!
Darkness fisted around her mind when she sat up abruptly. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head, cupping her head in her hands and waiting for the dizziness to pass. The smell of something wonderful brought her eyes open again after a few moments.
She saw that a hand had appeared within her view holding a metal cup filled with some sort of yellowish broth. "This first. It will help you regain your strength faster and replenish fluids."
Lifting her head, she discovered it was Seth holding what looked to be some kind of broth. The look and smell was so strongly reminiscent of chicken soup that her mind immediately convinced her that that was what it was. Hunger washed through her. She couldn't remember when she'd smelled anything as heavenly. "There's enough?" she asked hesitantly even as she reached for the cup he was holding.
Her hand, she discovered, was bare. And that wasn't all that was bare. She wasn't wearing her hab-suit and she damned well didn't recall taking it off--or even recall it being taken off! How could she have beenthatout of it?
"I cannot say that we have a great deal but what we do have we share with all."
The comment effectively distracted Danika from her discomfort at the discovery that she was wearing nothing but her undies and wrapped in something that looked like army issue field bedding. Emotions cascaded through her--embarrassment, then guilt and shame, and then anger.
Fuck you, she thought! "Thanks," she said tightly, "but I still have rations in my hab-suit if you'll just tell me what the fuck you did with it."
His face slackened with surprise for a moment before anger tightened his expression. "This will be better for you. Why are you angry?"
"What makes you think I'm angry?" she growled at him.
His frown deepened. "I have misinterpreted the tone and the mannerisms?"
Danika felt like throwing the soup in his face. "Actually, you're pretty good at that. Too bad you weren't programmed with any damned tact or manners."
A flush mounted his cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was from discomfort or anger, though.
"Yes, that is a pity. Mayhap I can learn those things from you?"
"You're good at sarcasm, at least."
That seemed to take him aback. "I am?"
A touch of empathy flickered through her, but she resolutely ignored it. She narrowed her eyes at him. "My hab-suit?" she prodded.
