Angels and Ministers of Grace

by Michelle O'Leary

  "Nope. I was hoping you did, since you've been here a couple of times."

  "Sorry, I was always bad with direction." Turning back to the chamber, she pointed with what she hoped was clear authority at one of her protectors. "You, Larry, lead the way out, if you please."

  "Do they understand you?" Frank asked in a near whisper.

  "I have no idea," she answered back just as softly.

  But the three seemed to understand her—or at least they'd figured out the problem. They scurried around the two humans and headed down the tunnel. Anya and Frank had to move fast to keep up.

  When they came in sight of the entrance to the Hive, Anya murmured, "Thank god," under her breath and moved faster, Frank right on her heels. The familiar metal and bright lights of the station's corridors were a welcome sight. They both stumbled out into the open to see a contingent of station guards standing in formation, listening to their commanding officer.

  "Jason!" Anya gasped, tears springing to her eyes at the sight of his anxious face.

  "God, Anya…" he rasped, taking two hard strides before dragging her into his arms.

  Hiding her face in his chest, she pressed herself as close as she could and tried very hard not to sniffle like a lost child. He held her hard enough to make it difficult for her to breathe, but she didn't complain. The terror she'd sustained seeing him defend the station against what had looked like impossible odds made this crushing embrace worth every shallow breath. He was alive, he was with her, and she didn't ever want to let him go again.

  "Thank you, Frank," she heard Jason say in a hoarse voice over the top of her head.

  "Hell, I didn't do anything. Just got myself stuck in there with her and missed all the fun."

  Anya could tell by his voice that he was grinning, but she didn't bother to lift her head to see. She was too busy counting Jason's heartbeats and concentrating on the heat that soaked from his body into hers.

  "I think I'll take these youngsters back up to security, see if I can't put 'em to better use," Frank continued in a too casual tone. "That way if the captain asks, I can tell her honest that I ain't got a clue where you two went." He lowered his voice as he added, "I might even forget that Anya's quarters are just down the way there."

  Anya turned her head to give him a watery smile. "Thanks, Frank. You're a good friend."

  He gave her a solemn wink before turning to the guards. "A'right! Let's move like we got a purpose, people!"

  Several of them had grins on their faces, but they moved with alacrity, disappearing down the corridor. Flashing the two of them a grin, Frank followed.

  Anya lifted her head to look up at Jason. He was half-smiling down at her with a tender light in his dark eyes that made tears prick again behind her eyelids. Clearing her throat, she tried not to sound desperate as she said, "I don't suppose I can convince you to shirk your duties for a little while and sneak away with me to my quarters."

  "Try and stop me," he murmured in a husky voice before placing a swift, hard kiss on her lips and stepping back. Snagging her wrist, he headed off down the corridor at a pace fast enough to make her skip to keep up.

  With a breathless laugh, Anya matched his stride, heart thrumming in anticipation and delight. Until she heard a familiar skittling sound behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she swore and stopped. The Three Stooges stopped with her.

  "What's wrong?" Jason asked, frowning when he caught sight of the Shrieks. "What are they doing?"

  "They think I'm a damned queen. I guess they're my duly appointed bodyguard."

  "How the hell did that happen?"

  "Long story," she muttered and waved her arms at the three insectoids. "Scat! Go home!"

  The three bobbed up and down for a moment as though their legs had acquired springs before freezing in place again. They showed no signs of returning to the Hive.

  Anya sighed in defeat. "Fine, but you guys are not allowed in my quarters. You hear me?"

  "But I am, I hope," Jason murmured in her ear, startling a squeak out of her when he scooped her in his arms. "And I'm a little anxious to be there just now."

  With a low chuckle, Anya wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled her face into his throat, tasting his skin and grazing her teeth lightly against his flesh. When his grip tightened, she smiled to herself and whispered, "You're not the only one."

  When they reached her door, she wasted no time gaining them entry, and when the Shrieks approached, she said, "Sit! Stay!" in as firm a voice as she could before closing the door hurriedly.

  Jason leaned back against the door, letting her slide slowly down his body as he slipped one hand in her hair, his dark eyes grave as he stared down at her. "I heard you, you know," he said in a low voice. "When they took you. You called my name. But I couldn't—I'm sorry I wasn't there."

  Anya sagged against him as she shook her head, giving him a rueful smile. "Stop it, Jason. You can't always protect me."

  He frowned, his fingers twisting in her hair. "I should—you need protecting, always getting yourself in trouble."

  "Hey, I had nothing to do with what happened this time! Besides, it wasn't really trouble and the others needed you."

  A fire kindled in his eyes that made her knees buckle, and he lowered his head until his mouth was a breath away from hers. "Do you need me?" he murmured, his other hand sliding from her hip over the curve of her bottom, pressing her closer to his hard form.

  With a breath caught in her throat, she whispered, "I always do and I always will."

  With a low sound in his throat, he captured her mouth with his own, his kiss demanding and desperate. She answered him in kind, tightening her arms around his neck and pressing against him. She was drowning in his heat, his taste, his scent, sensations that filled her with joy and a deep yearning for more. She wanted to burrow closer, to have all of him, to wrap around him until they both died of the pleasure.

  She wasn't aware of them moving, and when he lowered her from his arms, she was distantly surprised to find that they were in the bedroom. But Jason was suckling on her lower lip, and his hands were pulling at her clothes, distracting her from their surroundings. Heart pounding and body trembling with need, Anya yanked at his shirt, not even aware that she was sending buttons flying. All she was interested in was the expanse of hot skin and taut muscles that she uncovered.

  Exploring him with mouth and hands, she whimpered to hear his groan of desire and feel his touch slide over her naked skin. When his hands found her breasts, she let her head fall back, eyes closed and hands clutching his arms in a surge of pleasure. Bending his head to place hot kisses on her throat and moving his hands down her torso to her hips, he pulled her against a muscular thigh, creating a friction that was sweet agony. She moaned, arching her body in helpless need. Growling against her exposed throat, he lifted her and dropped her gently on the bed, his strong hands efficiently stripping their remaining clothes off.

  "Jason," she sighed as their naked limbs twined together, the feel of his hard muscled body making her shudder with both pleasure and torment. His eyes met hers, and she quivered at the intensity in their dark depths. Tangling her hands in his hair, she brought his mouth to hers and wrapped her legs around his waist in a desperate demand. She couldn't wait. She needed him too badly, needed to feel him in every part of her, filling the void in her body, her heart, her soul.

  A shudder went through him, and he answered her demand with a slow thrust, a delicious stretch and slide that made her want to cry out with joy and sharp pleasure. Whimpering into his mouth, she held him closer and with the tensing of her limbs and answering arch of her body, she demanded more, harder, deeper. He gave her everything she wanted.

  Her release was sudden and intense, a violent cascade of pleasure that seemed to shatter her down to her molecules, transporting her to a place that was only this, this pulse of glory, this sweet bliss, and him. She took him with her, and his cry of wonder was an echo of her own expanding joy.

  A long whil
e later, Anya smiled to feel him shift closer, his thighs curving up under hers as he propped his head on his elbow and began tracing mysterious patterns on her skin. "So what happens now?" she asked in a husky voice that was slowed by the aftermath of pleasure. Opening her eyes, she watched him watch his fingers.

  "Give me another couple of minutes to recover, and I'll show you," he answered in a musing tone, and she chuckled.

  "I meant with the station."

  His fingers made a tantalizing pass over the peak of one breast, and he smiled faintly when she drew a deeper breath. "Mm, right, the station. Now we work hard, deal with things as they come up, and get on with our lives. Pretty much the same as before."

  "Not exactly," she murmured, but couldn't put much sarcasm into her tone. His teasing fingers were too distracting.

  "All right, maybe not the same. But that doesn't mean everything changes, either. People will still come and go, and we'll still do what we need to do to get the job done." He shrugged, but still didn't look up from his moving fingers. "Life goes on."

  She thought about protesting that rather bland outlook on the enormous shift in their civilization's state of being, but couldn't work up the energy. With a small sigh, she let her eyes slide shut and enjoyed the tingling sensation his fingers produced on her skin as the silence lengthened.

  When he spoke again, his casual tone was edged with tension. "I'm in love with you, you know."

  She stopped breathing for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. Looking up at him, she smiled to see him still studying his fingers intently, a pensive curve to his mouth. "I know," she lied, working hard to keep an offhand tone while a thrill of joy shivered through her. With a huge effort, she held herself still, waiting for him to look up and see the delight on her face.

  But he still didn't meet her eyes, his mouth curling in a wry smile. "Of course, you do. I don't suppose," he continued, as his fingers stroked over her soft skin, "that you'd feel the same, would you?" His hand stopped moving, and Anya would swear that he held his breath as he waited, his body rigid at her side.

  "Oh, Jason," she said with a breathless laugh.

  When he slanted her a quick, uncertain look out of the corner of his eye, she slipped her hand behind his neck and pulled his face down to hers. Kissing him with abandon, she unraveled her talent, showing him the exact depth and breadth of her emotion, her deep, abiding love, her respect and admiration, her desperate need for him.

  His response was as ardent as she could have wished, but as they twined together in passion, he gave her more than she had ever thought to ask for. In an act of humbling trust and acceptance, he bared the deepest parts of himself to her, letting her sink into him until she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. She knew his pleasure and pain, the heart-stopping depth of his love and desperate need to keep her from harm, the enormous loneliness that had filled his life until it seemed there had been no other way to live. She banished that solitude, filling the empty parts of him with herself and feeling the same happen within her own soul. It was like coming home.

  The sweet, throbbing pleasure of body and soul was an eternity and a moment as fleeting as a sigh. When it had passed and the trembling of their bodies had eased, he settled next to her and said with breathless humor, "I would've been okay with just a yes."

  Shaking with silent laughter, she turned into his waiting embrace.

  Epilogue

  Jason leaned against the arch to the open market, watching from the back of the crowd as Anya sang to them. She was at the opposite end of the market, standing on the steps to the upper level, the deep, dark blue of her gown making her pale skin and her cloud of snow-white hair seem to glow. She looked like the angel that they'd named her, her voice lifting above and around them like a promise of grace.

  The captain would be so proud, he thought cynically, but couldn't stop a shiver of pleasure at the touch of her voice and her joy, moving through and inside him with a life of its own. It was still a source of awe to him that he could feel her deep within himself, a touch more intimate and more satisfying than anything he'd ever known. He'd accused her of doing this very thing when she'd first come aboard the station, fighting bitterly what he'd thought of as an invasion, but now he didn't know how he would live without this connection to her. She wasn't just the woman he was madly in love with—she was now a part of him, as essential as his own heart.

  He caught his breath as her voice soared again, pure and clear and powerful in its beauty. She was singing about heroes, but she wasn't talking about herself. Or Jason or the captain, for that matter. She was singing about the people in front of her, and they knew it. She thanked them for their courage, called them champions steadfast and true, and they adored her for it. They flocked to her, basking in her warmth like worshipers at the altar, and Jason felt his lip curl in a cynical half-smile.

  She was falling right into the captain and Thlassnian's plans as inevitably as a stone falls to earth. But she couldn't help it. It wasn't what she did—it was what she was. Her talent was only a small part of it, an interesting side note to what really drew people to her. She was beautiful not only in face and form, but in every part of her, and they fell in love with her with effortless ease.

  "Enjoying the show?" a voice murmured at his elbow, and he pulled his gaze away from Anya to see Jarden standing next to him. Her mouth was curved in wry amusement, her elegant head in profile as she watched her friend.

  "Hmm," he responded noncommittally, studying her flawless features. "How'd you get her up there by herself? I didn't think she'd put herself on display like that."

  "Ah, well, she wouldn't have if given a choice. But Rie had some kind of emergency with her own people, I came down with a stomach bug, and Cesna just made herself scarce."

  He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "How…convenient. Did the captain bribe you?"

  She chuckled, casting him a quick look, a twinkle in her dark eyes. "I'm sure the captain would love to take credit, but I actually see her point on this one. This is Anya's moment, and we'd detract from it." She shrugged. "So we made sure we wouldn't be there."

  "Never thought I'd see you agreeing with the captain."

  "Don't get me wrong, she still scares the crap out of me, and I disagree with her methods. But look at them," she said, gesturing to the adoring crowd. "They're eating this up. As an entertainer, I know a good thing when I see it. And if that works with the captain's plans, so be it."

  He glanced at her curiously. "It doesn't bother you that she's up there without you?"

  She smiled, her eyes finding Anya again and softening with affection. "How could it?" she asked with quiet serenity. "She's where she belongs. Besides, it's not like we won't be up there with her tomorrow." Then she shot him a quick look. "But she needs us most off stage, you know. She'd let them drain her dry if we didn't put a stop to it. You'll help us with that, won't you?"

  She was studying him out of the corner of her eye, and he let his mouth curl in a wry smile. "I thought that was my job," he murmured.

  She grinned, her eyes dancing with amusement as she tossed her head. "Glad to see you finally figured that out."

  He snorted, but didn't comment, and they fell silent as Anya began another song, this one filled with tentative hope for their futures and wistful longing for loved ones left behind.

  Jarden cleared her throat, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Did she tell you about the telepath?"

  He snorted again, this time with disgust. "Five minutes with her, and he was chomping at the bit to throw on a suit of armor."

  "It was an hour, and I do believe you're jealous." She smirked up at him, seemingly unimpressed by his scowl. "The captain can't be too pleased that her pet telepath has slipped her clutches."

  "Are you kidding?" He gave her a cynical look. "If Gillespi manages to sneak back to Earth and retrieve Anya's parents, he becomes a shining hero to this station. Marty couldn't ask for better PR for other telepaths that make it out here."


  Jar made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. "I still say you're jealous."

  "Course, I am," he grumbled, shifting restlessly against the arch support. "Should've seen her face."

  With a chuckle and a pat on his arm, she said, "Don't worry, Sal. You'll always be her favorite hero. The best the telepath can hope for is her thanks and a peck on the cheek."

  Because he knew it would make her laugh, he growled in angry rejection at the notion. She laughed.

  "Speaking of people making it out here…" she continued in a casual tone, slanting him a speculative look. "I hear there are already ships on the way. Just hopeful rumor, you think?"

  Training his eyes on Anya's distant figure, he smiled faintly. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

  She snorted. "Clever. If there are ships coming, that makes you people look good. If there aren't, you don't get any blame for false hopes."

  He smirked as he looked down into her shrewd eyes. "Well, aren't you jaded," he retorted. "Careful, that kind of thinking is bound to make you paranoid."

  "I prefer to call it self-preservation, especially around your captain. Speaking of which, she asked me to ask you something when I came over here to see you."

  He raised his eyebrows, studying her smooth face. "Really? What's that?"

  "She wouldn't say what it meant, which is suspicious and irritates the hell out of me," Jar muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. "But her question was, 'Have you done it yet?'"

  He stared at her blankly for a moment before he figured it out and chuckled. "Damn pushy woman. I told her she'd know when I did."

  "Did what?" Jar asked in an exasperated tone.

  Catching sight of a familiar face over Jarden's head, Jason grinned. "You're about to find out," he murmured.

  Frowning, Jar turned. Frank stood just behind her with a squad, his face wreathed in a huge smile. "Ready boss?"

  "As I'll ever be," he answered, suddenly realizing that he was starting to feel nervous.