Editing Whispers

<span style="color:#800000"> '''''This one's all Andy's idea and he let me play in it.  Thanks, Andy!''''' </span> 


Joshua watched Rick's hands on the ''Ouija'' board pointer as it floated from K to I to L. The lights in the lounge flickered briefly and he looked up at them, shaking his head briefly before turning his attention back to Rick. Was Rick really contacting the spirits of the poor victims of the ''Orcus''? Unlikely, he thought. But yet, here he was. His handlers had warned him he would be sensitive to places where tragic death hung in the air like a morning fog. But even knowing that, he couldn't stop himself from being on edge all the time, from thinking about ghosts causing these mysterious problems.

Now he began to really understand how Rina must have felt in the swamp. Damn if he didn't hate being in the ''Orcus'' the same way she hated being in Muir. The sooner they could get repairs done, the better.

&nbsp;***

'''Thursday, 21 Nov 2520''' <br>
'''Kuiper II class, ''Summer’s Gift'' '''<br>
'''La Grange Point, Muir'''<br>
'''Blue Sun (Qing Long) system'''<br>
'''1540hrs, ships time'''<br>

After the steamy swelter of Muir's swamp and the dry heat of her moon, spending the past couple of days in our ship's own atmo was a blessed relief. No longer stewing or roasting, I managed the repairs in shirt-sleeved comfort. I relished it. I knew it wouldn't be long before the current environment would cease to register as an improvement over hardship and simply fade to the background again. So it was that when I wasn't in my coveralls or suit effecting repairs, I'd taken to going round in just my off-duty duds while on the clock, the better to soak up the comfort.

I'd just stepped out of my coveralls, leaving ten pounds of clothing and tools puddled around my boots in my quarters, and had padded barefoot to the galley for a cold drink when I saw Joshua and Rick were at it again with that damned ''Ouija'' board. Not for the first time did I wonder how a man usually so adept at reading body language could be taken in so completely by Rick's bullshitting, but there Joshua sat, watching everything with the rapt gaze of a five year old at the circus. Stifling a growl, I changed course to stand behind Joshua's chair and leaned in to murmur in his ear.

"Careful. He's yanking your chain, Joshua."

&nbsp;***

Joshua visibly startled as Rina whispered in his ear. She was surprisingly quiet when not in her coveralls. He nodded at her and stood up. "Rick, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a break for a while", he said, knowing that Rick wouldn't mind. He, after all, had plenty of chances to remind Joshua about how there could be creatures behind the panels or ghosts in the ship.

Rick began picking up the ''Ouija'' board and heading out of the lounge as Joshua headed into the galley, not really sure what he was looking for. He mostly just wanted the comfort and familiarity of the space. Joshua always felt more comfortable in here. The organization and order of the kitchen contrasted deeply with the chaos of the ''Orcus'' and he could at least pretend to ignore it while he was here. But he couldn't spend all his time in the galley, unfortunately.

He leaned up against a counter and took a deep breath, letting it out in a big rush. He needed to get it together, he thought. And fast.

&nbsp;***

I followed him in, concerned.  I saw him start at my words, caught the faint tremor in his tone as he took his leave of Rick, divined the reason he dove into the galley…and regretting causing him upset.  To spare him further distress, I didn’t say anything but simply went in, got that drink from the fridge and took the time to pour it into a glass over some ice.  I put it within his reach and leaned against the counter opposite, sipping the remainder from the bottle.  After a few pulls, I put my drink down and asked him quietly, “You gonna be okay?”

&nbsp;***

He reached over and held the glass in his hand, letting the cool of the glass seep over his fingertips."I know he was just messing with me, you know. I've not quite fallen so far that I believe that a ''Ouija'' board is the way to contact spirits." He deliberately stepped around her question.

"I can just feel them in the back of my head. Always there, just hovering..." Joshua said, feeling his hand involuntarily clenching tighter around the glass. Carefully, he set it back down on the counter before the pressure shattered it into a million pieces. "Not speaking, but just making their presence known."

He rubbed his forehead with his hand, not quite able to look at her, embarrassed by how out of control he was feeling...acting. "Ever have the logical portion of your brain reassure you that everything was okay, only the rest of you doesn't listen?"

&nbsp;***

"More than I'd like to admit, yes," I said. "And the converse, too." I put my bottle aside, got up close and gently pulled his hand from his forehead. "How hard are they pressing?"

I kneaded his hand, working the tension out of it.

"Have you given any thought to what we discussed earlier? About defenses?"

&nbsp;***

He shook his head. "It's just background noise, like someone constantly whispering creepy nonsense in your ear. When I'm busy or focused, I notice it less. But there is always the moment where they just slip in and it is like they are standing behind me, and I jump or glance over my shoulder to see if there is a dead man staring at me from behind." Another occasion where he was glad he didn't carry a gun. Somebody would've been shot by now.

He took his other hand from where he had been leaning up against the counter, holding it front of Rina. His hand trembled as he held it, until he closed it into a fist. "I just can't stop being afraid...on edge every waking moment. It's just wearing at me."

&nbsp;***

I wrapped my arms around him and held him.  Nothing of ardor in it, just offering comfort, a bulwark to lean on.  I tucked my head under his chin and breathed in the scent of him, caught a whiff of soap over the musk of male, and closed my eyes.

&nbsp;***

As she hugged him, Joshua slowly let his hands unclench and could feel some of the tension releasing from his shoulders and neck. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting to keep the touch of her close. He took a long slow deep breath and then said, "Thanks. I needed that."

After a few quiet minutes, with neither saying anything, he finally let her go. His legs felt a little wobbly, so rather than risking having them give out, he just placed his hands on the counter and pushed himself up to sit on the edge.

"I know you weren't fond of Muir, but I will say that I enjoyed that more than this portion of the program. Arrive at Shepherd's Moon, get called an 'it' by a former Operative, watch said Operative try to kill me then shoot himself in the head, finally followed by a good old fashioned mental haunting." He stuck out his tongue. "Bleh."

&nbsp;***

I stood between his knees and tapped the underside of his chin with a curled knuckle.

"Bite your tongue, you. Or have you forgotten that stunt you pulled with Queenie?" To take the sting out of my reprimand, I leaned in with a quick kiss and pulled back again. "Although I have to say I admire your restraint through all of it, Muir ''and'' the Mission. Especially the Mission. I was ready to kill Iskariot for what he said to you. Only the fact that he was dead already from TSE kept me from giving him the easy way out....not that he didn't manage to take it anyway. With ''my gun'' to boot, the bastard."

I let my head thunk to his chest and tried to let the resentment pass. I'd been an idiot, letting Iskariot get close enough to grab my gun, had been stupid to draw it in the first place. I'd cleaned it with extra care afterward and was tempted to toss the cleaning kit out the airlock when I was through, not trusting the prions not to cling to the brushes and rags. Like the suspicion of contagion, the man's vicious invective against Joshua clung stubbornly to memory and I wondered how Joshua could stand it and not marinate in self-doubt. Like the way I was simmering with pent-up anger with nothing suitable to vent it on.

I couldn't take it out on the repairs--we couldn't afford the damage. ''Orcus'' had the parts we needed, but she only had one of each. If I botched the removal or installation of any, with the exception of the deflector vanes, we had nothing to fall back on. So I'd worked and tried to sublimate the negativity into being extra meticulous. Such self-deception, however, would carry me only so far before the punching bag belowdecks suffered a thorough working over from me. ’Til then, I had to keep my head clear and my attitude positive.

If not for my sake, then for Joshua's. I realized my hands were fisted on Joshua's thighs and taking a deep breath I deliberately opened them.

"Sorry," I said, staring at the weave of his trousers through my spread fingers. "Memory lane's no picnic right now for me either."

&nbsp;***

"Didn't want to say otherwise. It's not really been sunshine and rainbows lately." Joshua shrugged. "As for staying calm, I'm not an 'it' no matter what he thinks. I've established that for myself. For the rest..." He ran his hand through her hair. "I only heard it through everyone else. I didn't have to physically hear it. Besides, I already know that Nika will shoot me if I become a danger to the crew and I assume you would too."

Not a pleasant thought, to be sure. But he'd rather be dead than responsible for the death of his friends.

"And I can only hope and trust that you don't think I'm some sort of secret mole," he said quietly. "But I would understand if any of the crew did, given that you've all seen what I can do." Well, not '''any''' of the crew, he thought. He'd say he understood, but if Rina thought he was a threat, might as well just start running out the door the next time they hit dirt.

&nbsp;***

As he ran his hand through my hair I leaned into it, deriving the peace I needed. He maintained the rhythm as he spoke and when he was done I captured his hand and kissed it.

"There comes a time when you have to go with your gut, despite everything the evidence and others tell you. Some things can't be nailed down and measured, they can only be known. Here," I added, laying the flat of his palm against my midriff and then ten inches higher up. "And here. Call it intuition. Call it faith. Call it what you want, but when it talks, listen."

&nbsp;***

He felt her heart softly beating against his palm and he took comfort from it. "Call it faith, since I can never prove to you that I'm not what Iskariot accused me of. You just have to take it on faith. And that's good enough for me."

His mouth felt incredibly dry, so Joshua reached for the glass on the counter with his other hand. As he took a sip, he realized he could hear the ice rattling and the sound of Rina breathing...and nothing else. At least for the moment, that horrid presence, those memories of crimes past, had stopped whispering in his ear. He closed his eyes and reveled in the silence, because it wouldn't last long.

&nbsp;***<br><br><br>



<span style="color:#800000">'''''Since this season turned out to be RP heavy, it's only fair to include the link to everyone's efforts.'''''</span><br>

'''Go back to''' '''''[[Dark Places]]''''' | '''Skip to''' '''''[[Reassurance]]'''''.<br>
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−	Joshua watched Rick's hands on the ''Ouija'' board pointer as it floated from ~~'''''~~K~~'''''~~ to ~~'''''~~I~~'''''~~ to ~~'''''~~L~~'''''~~. The lights in the lounge flickered briefly and he looked up at them, shaking his head briefly before turning his attention back to Rick. Was Rick really contacting the spirits of the poor victims of the ''Orcus''? Unlikely, he thought. But yet, here he was. His handlers had warned him he would be sensitive to places where tragic death hung in the air like a morning fog. But even knowing that, he couldn't stop himself from being on edge all the time, from thinking about ghosts causing these mysterious problems.	+	Joshua watched Rick's hands on the ''Ouija'' board pointer as it floated from K to I to L. The lights in the lounge flickered briefly and he looked up at them, shaking his head briefly before turning his attention back to Rick. Was Rick really contacting the spirits of the poor victims of the ''Orcus''? Unlikely, he thought. But yet, here he was. His handlers had warned him he would be sensitive to places where tragic death hung in the air like a morning fog. But even knowing that, he couldn't stop himself from being on edge all the time, from thinking about ghosts causing these mysterious problems.

	Now he began to really understand how Rina must have felt in the swamp. Damn if he didn't hate being in the ''Orcus'' the same way she hated being in Muir. The sooner they could get repairs done, the better.		Now he began to really understand how Rina must have felt in the swamp. Damn if he didn't hate being in the ''Orcus'' the same way she hated being in Muir. The sooner they could get repairs done, the better.