No Such Thing

by Michelle O'Leary

  "In battle, you’ll see the necessity of it. It’ll come more naturally when you have to defend the ship. But this way is too cold-blooded for you to handle right now. So," he said with a thoughtful tip of his head, settling his hands on his hips and rocking a little on his heels. "In the interest of saving our fighter’s resources, what can you do to disable them?"

  She stared at him for a moment, thought about further protest, and then gave it up with a little flare of relief. "I can destroy their propulsion systems and communications arrays."

  He blinked. "No kidding."

  "That will leave them adrift with no way to communicate with any other GenTecs."

  "And if you scatter the tunnel, they will be adrift in the field, which will make them very difficult to find. Very good. But can you do such fine work at a distance?"

  She sighed. "Is this an appropriate time to roll my eyes, sir?"

  A sudden grin flashed across his face. "You’re learning. I’ll try to stop questioning the things you say you can do. Proceed, Telenetic Soliere. This should be interesting," he finished in a mumble she didn’t think she was supposed to hear.

  Suppressing a smile, she proceeded. With some of her attention, she was aware that he’d returned to pacing in front of his viewers, but the rest of her was light years away, carefully crushing and mangling the GenTec’s systems. She didn’t want to leave them with no internal energy, which would kill their life support systems. She worked with a little hum in her throat and a smile on her lips but wasn’t aware of either. Inside, though, she was very aware of the delight, the joy she took in using her ability, the pleasure it gave her.

  When the ships were as useful as toys in a tub, she went to work on re-scattering the tunnel. After a few minutes, she felt the commander approach and gave him a vague smile for his scrutiny. "Coming along," she murmured.

  "I can see that," he said, gesturing to the viewers. "Don’t overtire yourself."

  She snorted rather undiplomatically, distracted by her work and the thrill of her ability. With joy singing in her muscles, she spoke without thought, "Not tired. Too much fun."

  He chucked and said, "I can see that, too."

  She went back to humming and ignored him. An officer checked in over the com, sounding a little panicked, to inform the commander that the tunnel was closing behind them. The commander thanked the officer in a wry tone and asked her to inform the rest of the shift that Telenetic Soliere was under his orders to return the field to normal.

  When she was done and the tunnel was gone behind them, she reeled her talent in with a sigh of heavy regret and bound it close again, grimacing at the effort. The more she used it, the harder it was to manage, to return her ability to its too-small cage. Back under tight control, she looked around for the commander and found him lounging in a cushioned chair, watching her with his cheek resting on a propped fist.

  He grunted. "That only took you twenty minutes."

  She raised her eyebrows and settled herself neatly in the chair opposite. "Was it supposed to take longer?"

  "I’ve never seen anything move a planetoid before."

  "Is this a bad thing?" she asked with narrowed, speculative eyes. "I was only putting it back where it came from."

  "You didn’t have to move it the first time. We could have gone around."

  She tilted her head, studying him carefully. Sometimes he was very difficult to read. She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or voicing a serious objection. "But if we’d gone around, than I wouldn’t have known I could move it."

  He snorted, humor sneaking into the lines around his mouth. "Blast it, girl, aren’t you the least bit tired?"

  She considered it. "A little," she admitted. "But a good tired, like after doing some healthy physical activity."

  He sobered, leaning forward to examine her features with a sharp eye. "How long? How long could you have done that without collapsing?"

  "Are you asking how long would I last in a battle?" she asked softly. Before he could respond, she continued, "I don’t know. The Institute was more concerned with keeping my talent in check than with finding out my limits."

  "Morons," he snarled. Launching to his feet again, he took another turn around the office. "How can I use you efficiently if I don’t know how long and hard I can push you?"

  She shifted in her seat with discomfort but knew she couldn’t keep quiet. "Sir, I think you’re missing the point."

  "And that is, little mims?" he asked in his driest tone.

  She tried not to flinch, raising her eyes to meet his piercing gaze. "How much damage I can do in a very short amount of time."

  He absorbed this for a moment then strode to her side, staring down at her with an expression close to compassion. "And how much damage do you think you could do, Ryelle?"

  "I’m afraid to find out," she whispered, looking down at her clasped hands. "But I know this much—it’ll be enough for any battle. That’s why they gave me to you."

  There was a moment of silence. Then he touched her shoulder very briefly, before walking away. Ryelle blinked against the sting of tears.

  After that, the morning passed slowly and with a large slice of boredom, at least on Ryelle’s part. The commander seemed unnaturally absorbed in the routine matters of inventory, maintenance, and preparation for the upcoming action. She had no idea where he got the patience to discuss proper storage with his supply officers and ways to streamline docking with his flight maintenance crew. He had a strategy meeting with his top ranking officers, which was more interesting, but it was material they’d gone over before, since they couldn’t get any fresh intel from the front line while in the scatter field.

  When he showed no signs of breaking for lunch, Ryelle gently reminded her commander that he needed to eat like any normal human being. He didn’t even glance up from a nav report on the nebula, just told her she was free to go. She bolted.

  Lunch wasn’t on her agenda, though. Declan was. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to approach him.

  She took herself off to the observation deck to think about it, pacing through space with more or less casual disregard. It took a bit of discipline to ignore the vast openness around her, but it bolstered her control and helped her to think. To strategize.

  Declan wouldn’t come to her. Even if he didn’t think she was crazy, there was still protocol. Low ranking members of any crew did not approach a telenetic without invitation. So she didn’t expect to see him at her door any time soon on his own. It was up to her to invite him.

  But how did any self-respecting female invite the attentions of a male she had run away from? Putting any humiliation and embarrassment aside, she was totally clueless how she should approach him. She had little experience with social customs and even less with dating customs. She supposed it would be a good idea to ask someone for advice, but she flamed with mortification when she thought about asking the people she knew. The one person she felt comfortable enough with to reveal how little she knew about these things was Declan.

  With a gloomy sigh, she headed for the exit. She’d just have to muddle through it somehow. Because as much as the idea unnerved her, she had to see him again. She’d already had a very bad morning missing him and she suspected she was coming to crave his presence as much as she craved human touch. Especially his touch. And if she was really, really lucky, his kiss.

  The memory ambushed her and she stumbled across the threshold, cheeks burning as she took a quick, furtive glance around. The corridor was empty, but her cheeks kept burning. Her heart was racing again. With a sigh and a press of her hand to her chest, she grabbed the tattered edges of her courage and made her descent to the engineering section.

  There was no one in the anteroom when she entered, so she approached the com and tapped it. "Chief Sheridan, please."

  "This is Sheridan," his calm voice said a moment later.

  "It’s Ryelle, Chief Sheridan. I was wondering if I could speak to Declan for a moment." There was a small silence, and she
hurried on to say, "If he’s busy, I can speak with him later…"

  "No, no. The boy has been working much too hard and putting the rest of us to shame. You would be doing me a great favor by taking him off my hands for a while. Do you remember how to reach my office?"

  "Yes."

  "Please meet me there, then."

  Ryelle stepped through to the main engineering deck, wincing a little at the battering of sound and color. She paused a moment to admire the beauty of the proton streams again, sighing with regret that she couldn’t touch them this time. Then she made her way to the Chief’s office with no trouble, nodding to the crew she saw on the way. Most stopped in their tracks and stared unabashedly with mouths open. She schooled her face to show only serenity, burying her discomfort under a layer of projected calm.

  The Chief was already in his office and ushered her inside with a warm smile. "My dear, you’re a welcome sight. Mina told me this morning that she misses you already. I explained that you had duties to perform and couldn’t entertain her all day. She made a crude remark about my ancestry."

  She smiled at the man, taking his warm hand with a rush of sincere affection. "You can tell her that I miss her, too. Can she join us for dinner again, or will she be too busy with food preparation?"

  "Hmm, she does most of her prep ahead of time, I believe. Very efficient, my Mina. However, I believe I’m looking for a little less noise, this evening. Could you join us in our quarters? I’ll be inviting that beastly boss of ours and Declan, as well."

  Her stomach flipped and she watched his eyes twinkle while her smile grew nervous. "That would be…wonderful. Thank you."

  "Excellent. I’ll just call Declan and have him meet you here. You are welcome to roam as you like, but don’t feel as though you need to confine yourselves to engineering. That boy could use some new, delightful scenery. Other than you, of course." He winked at her and touched the communicator in his ear. "Declan, report to my office immediately."

  He strolled to the exit and paused, sending her a thoughtful look. "Perhaps when you are finished with him, you could ask him to check the security system for this office. It appears to be malfunctioning." Then he gave her a bland smile and strolled out.

  Ryelle stifled a hysterical giggle behind her hand, staring after him in horror. Finished with him? What did he think she had planned for Declan, anyway? But it was nice of him to let her know they would have privacy in his office. She supposed his security system was going to remain malfunctioning, no matter what she told Declan.

  A few moments later, before she was ready, Declan quick-stepped into the office, an expectant look on his face. He stopped short when he saw her, gorgeous blue eyes widening. "Ryelle," he said in a tone of utter surprise.

  Her cheeks burning again, she looked down at her clasped hands and babbled. "Declan, the Chief called you here for me, I mean, I asked him if I could see you for a moment, so he called you. To see me, not him. Can I—can I talk to you for a minute?"

  "I’m sorry," he said abruptly.

  "Wh-what?" She looked up to see his angular face set in grim lines, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was looking at her as though he desperately wanted to be anywhere else. Her heart sank. "You don’t have time?"

  He gave a little shake of his head. "That’s not what I mean. I’m sorry for—for last night. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to scare you or upset you, and I’m sorry."

  "You didn’t," she managed in a weak voice, feeling her face burn hotter.

  "You ran."

  She rolled her eyes. She was starting to get the hang of it. "That’s because I’m an idiot."

  She surprised a snort of laughter out of him, which he suppressed with a firm press of his lips. Then he folded his arms across his chest and stared down at his feet, rocking just a bit on his heels.

  "Are you laughing because I’m an idiot or because I rolled my eyes?"

  He angled a quick look up at her, his mouth relaxing into a mischievous smile. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you, without you getting mad at me, that you looked like a normal girl just now. And I was the idiot. Should’ve kept my hands to myself."

  She narrowed her eyes on him. "All three of those comments are seriously debatable."

  His smile faded and he straightened to meet her gaze steadily. "Which part did you want to debate first?" There was a warmth in his eyes and in his honey voice that pulled at her, weakened her all over. But he still stood all the way across the room and she didn’t know how to ask.

  Looking away, she turned to pace a random path to the Chief’s desk. "I’m not normal."

  "True. You’re amazing. Incredible. Fascinating. Unique. Not normal."

  Warmth spread a glowing bubble in her chest and a helpless smile curved her lips. If only he really believed all that. "That’s a lot of questionable adjectives."

  "Don’t use big words on us idiots, lady. It ain’t nice," he drawled in his worst Nine Rings accent.

  A flash of anger melted her nerves for a moment and she swung away from the desk to head straight for him. "You are not an idiot."

  His smirk turned into a rueful smile, as she stopped almost on his toes with her hands on her hips. "Well, I was last night. I chased you away."

  Her nerves came back with a vengeance and Ryelle hid her mortified face in her hands. "Ugh. I have no idea why I did that."

  "I scared you?"

  "No, you didn’t scare me. Surprised, yes." She dropped her hands but kept her gaze fixed on his folded arms. She noticed that his muscles were flexing slowly, as if he was clenching his fists. Taking a deep breath, she tried to get it out. "I’m very embarrassed that I left that way. People k-kiss all the time. I know you were pushed into it, so I don’t—I mean, I wouldn’t—I j-just don’t want it to ruin our friendship," she finished miserably, folding her own arms in an attempt to keep from clutching at him and pleading. Good god, that had been the most pathetic speech she’d ever made.

  "What do you mean, pushed?" His sharp tone almost made her flinch.

  "I mean, you were still affected by what I did to you on the command deck."

  "No, I wasn’t."

  She looked up with a frown, feeling her heart thud at the direct intensity of his blue eyes. "You weren’t? Than why did you kiss me?"

  He gave a short laugh, tipping his head back and studying the ceiling as if it held the secrets to the universe. Then he looked back down at her and took a very deliberate step backward. His tone was also deliberate as he said, "I’m doing this because I’d really like to show you and that would make me twice the idiot. I’m also doing it so you won’t think your power has anything to do with how I feel."

  Her frown lingered as she considered his words. Twice the idiot? Did that mean he wanted to kiss her again? "But I’m not doing anything to you now."

  "Right. You’re not. So it’s all me when I say—" He took a deep breath and continued, "When I say I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first laid eyes on you."

  She jerked in surprise and he took another hasty step backward, angling to stand in front of the exit with a nervous laugh. "Don’t run yet."

  She narrowed her eyes on him. "I wasn’t about to," she said coolly.

  "Okay, good." He shifted in place, watching her warily for a moment. "So I’ve got a question for you."

  She was still trying to get over her irritation that he expected her to bolt again and trying to wrap her mind around the idea that he actually wanted to kiss her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for a question but nodded anyway.

  He folded his arms tighter across his chest, straining his shirt in an alarming way. "Two questions, I guess. First one—you thought you’d hurt me on the command deck. How did you feel when you found out it was…something else?" His voice sounded a little strangled at the end, eyes darting everywhere but at her while his cheekbones darkened perceptibly.

  She felt her own cheeks blaze with color again and she lifted her hands to cover them, wondering if somebody could die o
f mortification. "Feel?" she squeaked and cleared her throat to try again, spinning away in the hopes that movement would help her think. Seemed to work for the commander. "I was—glad I hadn’t hurt you. Embarrassed that I didn’t—didn’t know. Guilty that I forced it on you—"

  "Well, you can stop that," he said with such rueful humor that she managed to look at him without bursting into mortified flame. He wasn’t quite looking at her either, his eyes trained somewhere around her feet, but there was a crooked smile on his face. "Mostly I need to know if you were garsed out. Or if it scares you to know I felt like that about you."

  "I’ll thank you to stop asking if you scare me," she said sharply and his smile flashed into a charming grin. "You don’t. And no, I wasn’t sick about it. Well, when I thought it was pain, but not after."

  "Good to know," he murmured in that dark honey voice of his and she felt her knees start to wobble. "Second question—did you like the kiss?" He started moving toward her, his grin fading into a smile so potent, it almost stopped her heart. "Come to think of it, I’ve got one more after that."

  Her mind was a big, mushy mess. She watched him come closer until he stopped right in front of her. She watched him study her face, watched him look at her mouth with his beautiful indigo eyes and thought she was going to collapse at his feet.

  "Well?" he murmured.

  "What was the question?" she breathed, swaying a little.

  "Did you like it? Did you like me touching you? Did you like me kissing you? Do you want me to do it again?"

  "Yes," she whispered, then swallowed hard. "To all the above."

  "Thank god," he muttered and reached for her.

  His big hands closed very gently on either side of her face, cradling her in warmth as he bent his head. She clutched at his arms, because she really thought she might be falling but didn’t want to take the time to be sure. Not when she could feel his warm breath on her face, on her lips. Not when his mouth started a tingling brush against her lips, sending quivers running down her entire body. She was captivated by the motion of his mouth, the incredible mobility of it, the astonishing way she could feel every subtle motion. He made a sound in his throat and she could feel it, the vibration moving from his lips to hers and diving somewhere deep inside her to send out a new wave of shocking warmth. She thought dimly that she could do this forever…if only she could breathe right.