“Bekka holds the ring they used to control me,” she said, blinking back her tears.
“Does she… have they ever used it?” he asked, genuinely surprised. His heart went out to the woman, and he actually found his hand on her back.
She shook her head. “No, the Captain said they never would, unless I lost control of myself and attacked them.”
“I don’t know your story,” Logan admitted, “but you seem sane enough to me. Why not ask her for it?”
“She’s supposed to be finding a way to destroy it,” Bailynn said, offering a smile up at Logan as appreciation for his compassion.
“Well then there’s no reason for you to feel threatened. You’re as free as any of us,” he said.
She smiled again and nodded, then shrugged. “I guess you’re right… but I feel no different.”
Logan chuckled warmly. “Well Bailynn, I can think of no better place to be for people like us. We are a danger to our friends and family, and are cast aside because of it. But here,” he said, glancing meaningfully onto the forecastle, “is a place where I think we can safely make new friends and family.”
“My world places no value on the life of others,” he explained. “But I have seen the Captain show more care and concern in only a short time then I saw in my entire life on Azmir.”
“You’re talking about her, aren’t you?” Bailynn asked, referring to Jenna.
He nodded. “Anybody on my world would have cast her aside immediately. Even when Bekka rushed forward to cry out for her.”
“Our Captain stayed his hand though,” he said, remembering the scene. “He…well, you were there, you saw what happened.”
Bailynn nodded and glanced up to the forecastle as well. Then a shifting rope pulled at her hand and she had to refocus quickly on their task. They were pulled apart as the ship tacked into the solar wind, and each found themselves lost in their own thoughts and remembrances.
Bekka had rushed forward, calling out frantically, “Dexter, wait!”
The Captain hesitated, then did as she bade him, withholding the final pound of pressure that would push the trigger past its release point.
“Were you scratched or bitten?” Bekka asked her.
Jenna looked up, trails of tears running down her cheeks. “Was I what? I was scratched. His fingers tore through-‘
“The curse is spread when they bite,” Bekka said, turning back to Dexter quickly and interrupting the elf.
His face was one of warring emotions. He refused to look away from Jenna for a long minute, and the elf’s gaze was tied with his own. Finally Dexter ordered her confined in a cargo hold, just in case. Jenna nodded and smiled, hopeful tears now streaming from her eyes. She reached for Bekka’s to hug her, but saw the alarmed expression in the half-elf’s eyes. Crushed, she nodded and walked directly to the hold, with Dexter and a few others following behind.
It was several hours later when Jenna heard the door to her makeshift cell being opened. She stood away from it, waiting patiently. The door creaked open and Dexter stepped in, his pistol leading the way. “You itching to take a bite out of me yet?” he asked her.
She shook her head and fought the urge to run over to him. Dexter shut the door behind him and lowered the hammer on his pistol. Replacing it in his belt, he looked at her and sighed.
“We’re almost back in the void,” he explained to her. “We’ll do what we can for repairs up there, then head down to drop Aidan off and get off this cursed world.”
“Will they take him back?” Jenna asked, surprised at Dexter’s chosen topic.
Dexter shrugged. “I offered him a bunk,” he said. “He said he’s got some things to take care of down there. I’m for thinking he wants to see about changing the way things are done.”
“That’s a lot of work,” she opined.
Dexter nodded. “He might be the right man for it though.”
They lapsed into silence then Dexter looked at her and stepped closer. “How’s your leg?”
She looked down at her injury. She knew he had something else he wanted to say, but could not yet bring himself to it. “It’s all right. Stings a little, but I’ve had worse.”
Dexter nodded. “Well good,” he finally said. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.”
Jenna smiled and took a step closer to him. “Me too.”
“Almost did, you know.”
“I asked you too,” she laid her hand gently on his shoulder.
“You should be more careful,” he said, “I don’t want to lose another first mate.”
“Afraid you can’t get anybody else to take the position?” she asked with a smile.
They were close enough now that Dexter found himself leaning in and dropping the pretense. He kissed her and within half a heartbeat Jenna was returning his kiss. He wondered, briefly, if she had fooled him when he felt the strength of her arms pulling her against him. She slipped her leg between his and pulled, not letting him separate from her. When the dust settled they were on the floor and Dexter was snugly held against her.
Dexter opened his mouth to speak but Jenna pulled him down before he could do more than draw in a breath. When their lips parted she warned him, “Don’t you dare talk, Dexter Silvercloud!”
Her mouth found his again and she untied her leather vest. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her breast, placing hers on top of his and offering encouragement. Jenna continued to slip out of her clothing beneath him, until she managed to lay nude on the wooden floor.
Her hands then turned to Dexter, roaming over his body and finding the laces, buttons, and clasps necessary to remove his clothing. With a silent acquiescence that surprised her, he let her have her way with him.
“Take me, Dexter,” she whispered to him. “Take me and make me yours!”
She positioned herself beneath him, breath held in anticipation and fear. When Dexter’s flesh met hers she gasped, a dam suddenly bursting within her. All the teasing, all the waiting, all the denial over their time together was over. She bit her lip to fight back the emotions that made her eyes blur and her throat tighten.
Dexter worked at it, rolling his hips and losing control of himself. He shook his head as he felt her wrap her self around him, accepting him fully and asking for more. Jenna looked up at him, confused for a moment. Understanding came as she felt his muscles stiffen against her. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye at the abrupt consummation. Dexter grimaced and grunted, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
She held him tight, her legs entwined around his trapping him inside of her. Her fingers ran in lazy circles over his back and shoulders, offering comfort. When Dexter looked up at her he had a sheepish expression on his face that turned to one of surprise at the tears in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Jenna pulled him closer and kissed him instead.
“It’s been a long time,” she whispered when she broke the kiss. “And this just tells me how strongly you feel.”
Dexter smiled, his cheeks red from more than exertion. She winked at him and pulled herself up to kiss him again. “Besides, I’m not finished with you. Roll over.”
Eyes wide, the Captain obeyed his First Mate. What followed was far more satisfying for both of them.
It took a few days of rest for Bekka to reestablish contact with the helm. Though she hid it well, her anxiety over the disruption began to raise her doubts. Once she tried it and was successful, she felt the weight of fear rise from her shoulders. Bekka enjoyed many things in her life — in fact she made a point to enjoy as much as she could — but seldom was there anything that could compare with piloting a ship.
Now, less than a week later, Dexter was on the bridge with her, perusing star charts and trying to determine his next course of action. Bekka pulled her consciousness back from the ship somewhat and turned her head toward him.
“Dex, how are you?” she asked him.
Dexter jumped, startled a little to hear her ask such a thing. He turned and studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “I am well… shouldn’t you be paying more attention to the ‘Hawk?”