Editing Two Dreams

An Excerpt from ''Peripatetica'', by M. K. Sebastien, ret.<br><br> <br>


'''Arrival + 4 days'''<br>
'''Christian’s House'''<br>
'''Lucifer’s Landing, Angel'''<br>
'''2200hrs, local time'''<br>


I left Joshua in Lem’s room and crept downstairs to the kitchen.  One thing shipboard living demanded was adherence to cleaning up.  Tools and equipment left unstowed were safety hazards.  Soiled items left uncleaned endangered the health of the crew. Detrimental outcomes in either area were amplified by the closed-loop environment of a ship and required assiduous attention to prevent them.  One had more leeway living dirtside but habit and inclination made me loath to leave the job of cleaning the kitchen undone.

The stew had cooked down while I’d been occupied with Joshua but was salvageable.  I duly crocked it, stowed it in the fridge, and set the pot to soaking overnight.  Joshua’s bowl and spoon were a snap to wash, as were the tea things, and it wasn’t long before they were dried and back in their places.  Christian preferred open storage, the better to show off the china, and I had to admit the plates and cups looked nice on the shelves.  Chintz mingled with plain porcelain, patterned pressed glass with smooth.  I gave the table one last wipe for crumbs and cast one last look around for anything out of place.  Satisfied I’d done enough, I took myself upstairs.

The storm was louder on the second floor with the rain drumming on the roof.  I peeked in on Lem and Joshua, found them both asleep.  Christian’s room was dark and would remain so until he returned.  A spate of lentil-sized hail rattled the windows and I reckoned a change in the weather was coming. I stood in the dim hall and listened to it clack and hiss on the shingles above, and wondered if it would be warmer or cooler come morning.

''There’s only one way to find out.  Sleep, wake up, and see.''

I went to my room and shut the door.  Christian had sinks installed in the rooms upstairs and I sketched a quick wash before turning in. My sheets were a mess and I tweaked them straight before sliding between them.  Joshua’s scent and mine mingled with the musk of our lovemaking and together they and the rain lulled me to sleep.

I didn’t stay asleep for long.  A sound woke me and I shot upright and blinked.  Daylight shone through my windows and standing at one of them in his boxers was Mike.  Leaning with one hand high on the frame and the other on his hip, he stood looking out at the morning as was his habit, thinking.

“''Misha?''”  The shock of seeing him stayed my hand on the covers, kept me frozen where I was.  ''Something’s not right'', my head whispered.  ''Look again''.  And in that logic-defying way of dreams, memory poured into me with a flash and the weight of imagined history hit me.  Mike ''knew''.  He knew everything.  We’d already wrangled and fought over the issue.  Knock down drag-outs.  Had just screamed our way through another one, in fact.  Before I could say another word, he turned to me and just as he had in my fever dream on Miranda, he stood kitted out for war.

“Not much time left, Irina,” he said quietly, his face inscrutable.  “Make up your mind.”

And he walked out and left.

A sound woke me and I shot upright and blinked.  It was dark, the rain continued to pour.  Taking a deep breath I caught the scent off the sheets and knew I was no longer dreaming but awake.  ''Something’s not right'', my head whispered.  ''Look again''.  The sheets rustled and Joshua was there.  And as before, memory poured in and lust shimmered through me.  I relived every caress, kiss, and stroke from earlier that evening.  I cupped his face as he moved over me and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping next door?” 

Without a word, Joshua pulled out and left me gasping, awake and alone in the bed we’d just hours ago shared.

It was dark, the rain continued to pour and taking a deep breath, I waited for that internal whisper to look again and was met with nothing but silence. I checked myself.  I was as I’d turned in—in tank and skivvies, sleeping alone.  I checked my watch.  ''0430''. 

''I need more sleep.  Dawn’s coming and Lem will be need me awake and functional.''

I lay back, listening to the rain and trying make sense of what just happened. The early hour and my night’s activities, however, had me asleep within minutes and the hiss of the rain was the last thing I remembered.  And the world went away.




Go back to '''''[[Mutineers_Timeline,_Season_Three | Timeline, Season Three ]]'''''<br>
Go back to '''''[[Mutineers Timeline|TIMELINE]]'''''
@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
-An Excerpt from ''Peripatetica'', by M. K. Sebastien, Eng. ret.<br><br> <br>
+An Excerpt from ''Peripatetica'', by M. K. Sebastien, ret.<br><br> <br>
@@ Line 20: / Line 20: @@
 I didn’t stay asleep for long.  A sound woke me and I shot upright and blinked.  Daylight shone through my windows and standing at one of them in his boxers was Mike.  Leaning with one hand high on the frame and the other on his hip, he stood looking out at the morning as was his habit, thinking.
-“''Misha?''”  The shock of seeing him stayed my hand on the covers, kept me frozen where I was.  ''Something’s not right'', my head whispered.  ''Look again''.  And in that logic-defying way of dreams, memory poured into me in a flash and the weight of imagined history hit me.  Mike ''knew''.  He knew everything.  We’d already wrangled and fought over the issue.  Knock down drag-outs.  Had just screamed our way through another one, in fact.  Before I could say another word, he turned to me and just as he had in my fever dream on Miranda, he stood kitted out for war.
+“''Misha?''”  The shock of seeing him stayed my hand on the covers, kept me frozen where I was.  ''Something’s not right'', my head whispered.  ''Look again''.  And in that logic-defying way of dreams, memory poured into me with a flash and the weight of imagined history hit me.  Mike ''knew''.  He knew everything.  We’d already wrangled and fought over the issue.  Knock down drag-outs.  Had just screamed our way through another one, in fact.  Before I could say another word, he turned to me and just as he had in my fever dream on Miranda, he stood kitted out for war.
 “Not much time left, Irina,” he said quietly, his face inscrutable.  “Make up your mind.”
@@ Line 40: / Line 40: @@
 Go back to '''''[[Mutineers_Timeline,_Season_Three | Timeline, Season Three ]]'''''<br>
-'''Go to ''[[Peripatetica - Rina's Journal entry and RP log]]'''''<br>
+Go back to '''''[[Mutineers Timeline|TIMELINE]]'''''
-'''Go to ''[[Rina's Russian Glossary]]'''''<br>
-'''Go to''' [[Marina Kseniya Sebastien | '''Rina's Crew Page''']] <br>
-'''Go to [[EPISODES]]''' or '''[[MTimeline#2511-2518|TIMELINE]]'''