Part 13

Damn, the girl thought as she drifted out of sleep and into wakefulness. Why does it have to be morning already? She felt like she’d just barely gotten to sleep and the sun was already up. Stifling a yawn, Zaira shifted and opened her eyes—and froze. That wall wasn’t her wall, she thought to herself. And…that hand draped casually across her hip wasn’t her hand. For one thing, it was too big. For another, both her hands were tucked under her chin.

She relaxed as memories came back and she remembered where she was and whose hand that was. She even smiled a little bit as she remembered what they’d shared. Feeling giddy and silly, she relaxed into his arms and recalled those moments to savor over again.

“Hey,” a gravelly voice said in her ear, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She pulled away and stared up at Gaavan. “Don’t go back to sleep,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“What?” she asked, still feeling a little fuzzy.

“I said don’t go back to sleep.” He shifted the hand draped over her hip and gave her a little shake.

“Stop that!” she exclaimed while putting a hand to her head and closing her eyes tightly against the rising nausea the sudden, jerky movement caused her.

“Then wake up.”

“I am awake,” she growled at him, peering through her fingers at him. He had the audacity to grin at her discomfort, just like the cocky bastard he was.

“Good,” he said, levering himself upwards to rest on his elbow to look down at her. She slipped over onto her back to gaze up at him.

“Why?” she demanded, trying to glare. “Don’t I deserve to sleep?”

“I suppose so,” he said. “But my arm was going numb.” He grinned, winked and tweaked her nose.

“Oh,” she said, suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry.” To prove how contrite she was, she reached out and poked his arm.

“Hey!” he shouted with a wince. “What was that for?

“You could have moved your arm any time. Poor baby.”

Growling, he flexed his arm against the returning sensation and leaned over her. “Is that so?” he snarled.

“Yeah, it is.” She poked his chest to emphasize her point.

He snatched her hand and pulled her up and against him where he trapped her. “Maybe I should make you pay for the discomfort you put me through, what with my arm falling asleep and all.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, really?” Leaning in close, he looked her in the eye and purred in that deep voice of his, “Try me.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, slipping her hand between them and pinching his arm—the numb one.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, jerking away from her. “That hurt—Ah!” He hissed between his teeth and held his arm in tight against him.

“It’s meanness, you know,” she said, running her fingers through her hair.

“Is it now?” Grimacing against the pain, he grabbed her arm, pulled her back down onto the mattress and in an instant was on top of her, straddling her and pinning her beneath his weight. “We’ll just see about that.”

“Hey!” She squirmed under him, beating on his thighs with her fists. “Let me up!”

“Uhm…No.” He grinned menacingly down at her. “Not until you say you’re sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what?”

“Pinching me. I bruise easily.”

“Like hell,” she retorted.

“All right then…I’ll think of something.”

She glared up at him through narrowed eyes. “There is one thing I’d like to say to you…”

“And what’s that?”

Going still, her glare softened a bit. “I want to thank you. For yesterday and last night. For being there—when I needed you.”

He gazed into her eyes a moment then shrugged with his eyebrows (a very interesting and impressive maneuver that fascinated Zaira almost to the point where she didn’t hear his reply). “No need to thank me,” he said dismissively.

“Yes, there is,” she said crossly.

Drawing back a bit, he looked at her with genuine curiosity. “What else should I have done? You were hurt; I took care of you. You were frightened and needed comfort; I comforted you.” He paused and seemed to consider his next words. “It’s what friends do for one another, right?”

Staring at him, she nodded. “Yes, it is. And friends also thank each other.”

“Oh. Well…So they do.” He sat back and looked away, seemingly embarrassed by the situation, and put a hand behind his head and rubbed his neck. “Don’t think anything of it. If it makes you feel any better, I can think of several ways you can make up for it.” The grin he turned on her was positively impish. He leaned down and fixed her with that impish gleam while running his hands up her sides.

“Don’t you even think about it!” she snapped. “You don’t deserve it!”

“Oh, don’t I?” he purred against her throat as he slipped his hands under her.

“No.”

Abruptly he sat up, pulling her with him and sitting her across his lap facing him. “Damn. Well, at least you can buy me breakfast. I’m starved.”

Gaping at him, she shook her head in disbelief. “You…”

He put his fingers under her chin and held it. “And you, as well.” He winked and kissed the end of her nose. “Come on—”

Before he had a chance to say anything more, the door was flung open. Zaira’s friend Stacia barged in and stopped, staring at the two of them: Zaira straddling Gaavan’s lap. “Geez, you two, get a room—Oh. You did.”

“Stacia!”

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Gaavan growled, turning a poisonous glare on the other girl.

Stacia reached out and knocked on the door.

“Learn to do it before you come in!” he shouted.

“And miss all the fun?” Stacia grinned evilly at the two of them and leaned against the door. “Oh, please. Don’t let me interrupt you. Carry on what you were doing…”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Gaavan said, standing and setting Zaira on her feet. “Other than discussing breakfast.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“That’s exactly what we were discussing, ”Zaira said, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Among other things,” Gaavan said softly as he leaned over her shoulder. She blushed bright red and pulled away to stare at him incredulously.

“Gaavan!” she scolded.

He winked at her, then straightened and tossed a bag in Stacia’s direction. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get us some breakfast.”

“Why me?” she demanded, though she was grinning from ear to ear at Zaira’s discomfort.

“Because Zaira shouldn’t be straining herself and someone has to stay with her.”

“Why can’t I stay with her?”

“Because it’s my room.”

“But you—“

“Do you want breakfast or not?” Gaavan growled.

“Yeah, duh,” Stacia retorted.

“Then go!” he ordered, stepping around Zaira and coming towards her.

“All right!” the other girl snapped as she backpedaled out of his way. “No need to get your knickers in a twist!” She gave Zaira a quick wave just before she ducked out the door.

“Damn, that girl is mouthy,” Gaavan growled as he turned back to Zaira.

“What was all that about?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “I feel fine!”

He grinned and put his arms around her. “I wanted a little more time with you.”

She blushed again and leaned against him. “You’re awful.”

“I know. It comes with the territory.” He leaned down, grabbed her around her waist, and lifted her up so he could kiss her.

A moment later, she pulled away and looked down at him. “What was that for?”

“It wasn’t for anything. Other than I’m glad you’re okay. You gave me quite a scare yesterday.” He fixed her with a serious look. “And I’m not used to being scared. I didn’t like it. Don’t do it again.”

She gaped at him. “It’s not as if I wanted that to happen!” She beat on his shoulders and started kicking. “Put me down!”

“Not on your life,” he said, shifting her and slipping a strong arm under her legs to swing her up into both arms.

“Gaavan…” she growled menacingly.

“Oh, listen to you. You’re about as frightening as a kitten.”

“Even kittens have sharp claws,” she threatened, holding up her hand with her fingers crooked into claws.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he said with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t I?”

He carried her to the chair and sat down, settling her on his lap. “Of course not. And why?” he said before she could do so. “Because I’m buying you breakfast—again.”

“Well, there is that,” she conceded, leaning against him and shutting her eyes. She had to admit that she was still a little dizzy and her head still ached. It felt so nice lying here in his arms, just as it had last night.

She heard him chuckle. “You’re an easy one, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes. Buy me food and I’m yours,” she said with a grin.

“Izzat a fact, now?” he said in that low purring voice of his, running his hand up her back. She arched her back under his caress and snuggled deeper into his arms.

“That’s nice.”

“So’s what you’re doing,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“What? This?” She snuggled some more, settling even further into the crook of his arm.

“Yes,” he responded, holding her tighter.

“Hmmm…” she murmured, feeling very warm and secure. “You’re a very strange man.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

Pillowing her cheek on her hand against his chest, she shrugged. “I don’t know. You just…are. I always thought that most men—“

“I’m not most men,” he interrupted sharply. “Stop comparing me to them.”

Pushing against him, she looked up into his eyes. “I—I didn’t—I mean, I wasn’t. It’s just…you’re the first man I’ve really known. And you don’t act…” She leaned against him again. “I haven’t had very good experiences with men.”

He sighed and stroked her hair. “I know. But you’ve got to trust me; I’m not like most men.”

“I do trust you,” she whispered. “More than you can know.”

She could hear the wry grin in his voice. “I think I do.” Then he was kissing her hair. That sent a lovely wave of warmth through her and she tilted her head back so she could see his face, and raised her hand to cup his cheek.

“Yes, I think you do, don’t you?” She stroked his cheek, then pulled her hand away. “Ow!”

“What?”

“You’ve got to go shave.” Zaira scratched at the stubble on his cheek with her fingernails. “Feels like sandstone.”

He gave her a mock snarl and wiped a finger down her nose. “Well, you’ve still got soot on your face from yesterday.” He showed her the end of his finger which was black with soot.

“Hey! Why didn’t you tell me?” She sat up and scrubbed at her face.

Gaavan pulled her close again. “I know what, let’s go take a bath together. You can scrub my back and…” He looked her up and down and grinned lecherously. “I can scrub your front.”

Blushing, she pushed him away. “Lech.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, running his hand up her arm, across her neck and along her jawline.

“Nothing. Just pointing it out.” She covered his hand with hers and kissed his palm.

“So, you’re okay with the taking a bath together thing?” he asked hopefully.

“No, I’m not.”

“Why not?” He traced the line of her cheekbone with his fingertips.

“Because—“ she started to say, and was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. “Stacia’s back with breakfast.” She smiled ruefully at him as she sat up and started to slip off his lap. “Soon, though…”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he murmured before she pulled away completely. Zaira nodded and went over to the door and opened it.

“I got breakfast,” Stacia said, holding up a large basket.

“Good. I’m starved.” Gaavan rose from the chair and came to take it from her. “Where’s the rest of my money?”

“What do you mean, the rest of your money?”

“You spent it all?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t so I assumed you meant get a lot of food!”

“It’d better be a LOT of food, then!” He pulled back the cloth covering the items in the basket and peered inside.

Stacia shrugged. “Oh, not much. Just a couple chickens, two loaves of bread, couple bottles of beer, some fruit, the usual breakfast things. If you don’t think it’s enough, I can get some more.” She grinned saucily at the tall, red-haired man. “Of course, you’ll have to give me some more money…”

Zaira moved forward to embrace her friend and to head off a confrontation between her and Gaavan. “It’s enough, love. Isn’t it, Gaavan?”

He grumbled but didn’t say anything.

“And we appreciate you going to get it for us all.” Smiling, she pulled her friend across to the pallet and tugged her down. “Come and sit down and we’ll eat. Why don’t you bring the basket over here, Gaavan?” she said, patting the mattress in front of her.

“Hey, that’s my bed. I don’t want crumbs and junk in it.”

“Then get clean bed sheets later. You’ve got the money.” Stacia twitched the bedclothes into place to make room for the basket.

Zaira scooted backwards to make room for Gaavan. “I’ll help you. Come on. It will be more comfortable over here.”

“Oh, all right.” He picked up the basket and carried it over to the bed and sat down where he could lean against the wall next to Zaira. She smiled at him and scooted closer to lean against him as the food was divvied out. They ate in comfortable silence for several minutes until Gaavan spoke. “You’re not eating,” he said to Zaira.

“I am,” she said softly, picking up a crumb of bread and nibbling at it.

“I don’t call that eating.”

“As much as I hate to agree with him, I agree with Gaavan,” Stacia said. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“I just…” Zaira sighed and leaned back against Gaavan and put a hand to her head. “Suddenly I don’t feel very well. My stomach is all upset.”

“You’re over-exerting yourself,” Stacia said, taking her hand and pulling her forward. “Move,” she ordered Gaavan. He didn’t protest; in fact he was already moving before she made her command. He slipped the pillows close and pulled Zaira back onto them.

“What…?” Zaira stared at them both.

“You’ve got to rest,” Stacia said as she pulled the light blanket over her.

“Stacia! I feel fine! I’m just a little queasy, that’s all.”

“Zaira,” Gaavan said in his low, gravelly voice. “You might not realize it, but that head wound you got was worse than you realize. You’ve got to take it easy—and do as we say.”

She stared at him with her large green eyes wide. “Oh, come off it. It wasn’t that—“

“Do you think I would lie to you? About something like that?” he asked crossly.

“No…”

“Then don’t question me.” He stood abruptly, grabbed up his boots, stalked over to where his coat and sword were hanging and grabbed them, too. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” And with that, he stormed out of the room.

Zaira stared after him. “What…what did I do?” she asked softly, looking at Stacia incredulously.

The other girl sighed and tucked her friend’s hair behind her ear. “He’s having a hard time. He cares about you, but men…” She shrugged.

“But…why did he get so huffy all of a sudden? And just…leave like that?”

“Because you’re not seemingly appreciative of what he’s done for you.”

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, Zaira. He’ll be back and cooled down and everything will be all right. But you really need to rest. You look awfully pale, still.”

Sighing, Zaira settled back on the pillows, turning and inhaling Gaavan’s spicy scent. “I…I don’t think I should stay here, though,” she murmured sadly.

“Why not?” her friend asked, sitting on the pallet next to her.

“Because! It’s not my home!”

“Look,” the other girl said, laying a hand on Zaira’s shoulder. “If you’re not here when he comes back, it’s going to make things worse. He’s expecting you to let him take care of you; if you leave, he’ll be hurt.”

“But, Stacia, that doesn’t make sense. My room is just across the hallway—“

“So it won’t hurt you to let him take care of you, right? Go on over, get cleaned up, change clothes then we’ll come back over here and work.” Stacia leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I got the silk cut out and ready to start sewing on that robe.” She winked at Zaira.

“You did?” the red-haired girl said, brightening. Then, biting her lip, she looked at Stacia. “It really wouldn’t hurt me to stay here, would it?”

“No, and it would put you back in good favor with Gaavan. Let him think he’s being all manly and protective of his woman.”

“I’m not his woman!” Zaira protested sharply.

“Of course you are. You just don’t realize it yet.”

“I am not! I’m not anyone’s woman except my own! I don’t belong to him!”

“But you’ve slept with him, right?”

“STACIA!!!” Zaira shouted, appalled that her friend would think that of her.

“I saw you two last night, all snuggled up together.” The wicked girl gave her and equally wicked grin.

“Nothing happened! And you, of all people, should realize that!”

“Of course I do, but you are so much fun to tease.”

“I hate you sometimes,” Zaira muttered, looking away and glaring at the wall so hard it was in danger of melting.

Her friend scooted over so she was sitting next to her and put an arm around Zaira’s shoulders. “Zaira, love, you know you don’t mean that. All I’m saying is that Gaavan wants…He wants to feel needed. It’s something men like, having their women—“ She held up a hand to forestall Zaira’s protest “—dependent upon them. It makes them feel powerful. They’re the big, bad protectors and we’re the meek, fragile ones in need of protecting.” She stroked her friend’s hair. “Is it really so bad?”

Zaira refused to answer for a long moment but she finally relented. “No, it really isn’t. Actually…it’s kind of nice—having someone care that much about me.”

“There. I told you so.” Stacia stood up and held out her hand to help Zaira up. “Come on. I’ll help you get cleaned up and we’ll be back before he even knows you’re gone.”

“All right. If you think it will help.” Suddenly, Zaira was very thankful she had Stacia to lean on as she was suddenly dizzy.

“Of course it will. Trust me.” She helped her friend out of the room and across the hall to her own room.

Slayers copyright 1991-2000 by Hajime Kanzaka/Rui Araizumi/Kadokawa Shoten/TV TOKYO/SOFTX/Marubeni.
The other characters copyright Wendy W Lee.