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applecameronAuthor: Apple Cameron
Fandom: Blake's 7
Spoilers: Ultraworld, The Sarcophagus
Featuring: Avon/Cally - friendship more than romance, IMO, but YMMV.
Category: Post-episode vignette
"Goodnight"
After long enough, he went to Cally, confident in her discretion.
“A human being can only go without sleep for so long.” She worried at him in the med unit, long fingers touching the sensor to his forehead, partner to her own.
“How sure are you this is going to work?”
“That depends on you, Avon. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams would be infinitely preferable to --“ he didn’t finish the sentence. It was unnecessary. She knew him well enough to know he was plagued with insomnia - useful trait for a computer genius most of the time, the inability to turn your mind off -- and their experience on Ultraworld had acted as aversion therapy. To slumber meant quite literally to lose his mind, one of the few things he must truly fear.
* There. We are linked on the sensors. I am monitoring your brainwave pattern on the screen here. * Cally tapped the handcomp on her chest as she lay down. * We’ll meditate first, controlling each transition toward sleep. *
“Hm.” Avon clasped his hands over his stomach and exhaled. “If we were going to sleep together, one would hope it would be less prosaic than actually sleeping.”
Cally pushed herself up on one elbow on her couch, braced next to him in the medical unit. That wicked little smile of his was there, hallmark of the mind, but only pasted on in a valiant effort by a man in desperate medical need of sleep. Sleep was such a simple thing. Too long without it, and any human would go mad, though. Hallucinations, psychosis, and death lay before him. It was humbling, in a way, that distrustful Avon came to her for help.
She leaned down and sampled his mouth, very gently, not disturbing the sensor pads.
Each contemplated the other. Kerr Avon’s eyes swam in dark pools of fatigue, and the lines at his mouth looked hastily drawn. It was not a kind face, but it was normally a very alive one, for all his imperious pose. He had not raised a hand to aid her kiss, merely responded as gently as her initial impulse, lips parting so that their breath mingled between their bodies. They shared silence.
Finally, “May I ask what you are thinking?”
Cally cocked her head. “I am thinking that most of the time I do not want to sleep with you.”
“I see.”
Her lips quirked without conscious prompting. “You liked kissing that other me. The one from the sarcophagus.”
The wicked delight of his smile became more genuine. “That adventure did have its merits. And my observation was correct.”
“‘Beautiful when angry?’"
“Yes.” His fatigue-bruised eyes grew distant, seeing something Cally couldn’t. “But she was simple.” Then his full attention riveted onto her again. “Whereas the whole you is decidedly more complex, and worth knowing.” It was quite possibly the closest to saying they were friends he’d ever get out loud. In some things, Avon let actions speak for him. Grumbling incessantly while he saved your life, because it mattered to him that you existed, was simply one way of keeping you from thanking him.
“Back home, my partner would have been compatible.” She told him.
Avon simply regarded her from the medical unit, paying the compliment of letting her think.
“Telepathically.” she finished. “And yet...Sometimes I think of you.”
“But not really.” He noted. Insightful as ever. “We are crippled, compared to you.”
“I am sorry. Do I cause you pain, Avon?”
The answer was one of the saddest smiles she’d ever seen. “No. Not really. You have paid me a very fine compliment.”
She bent her head again for a quick maternal buss, then settled back into position, the screen of the handcomp where she could see it easily.
* Now. Focus on our breathing. One, two. One, two. *
Fandom: Blake's 7
Spoilers: Ultraworld, The Sarcophagus
Featuring: Avon/Cally - friendship more than romance, IMO, but YMMV.
Category: Post-episode vignette
"Goodnight"
After long enough, he went to Cally, confident in her discretion.
“A human being can only go without sleep for so long.” She worried at him in the med unit, long fingers touching the sensor to his forehead, partner to her own.
“How sure are you this is going to work?”
“That depends on you, Avon. Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams would be infinitely preferable to --“ he didn’t finish the sentence. It was unnecessary. She knew him well enough to know he was plagued with insomnia - useful trait for a computer genius most of the time, the inability to turn your mind off -- and their experience on Ultraworld had acted as aversion therapy. To slumber meant quite literally to lose his mind, one of the few things he must truly fear.
* There. We are linked on the sensors. I am monitoring your brainwave pattern on the screen here. * Cally tapped the handcomp on her chest as she lay down. * We’ll meditate first, controlling each transition toward sleep. *
“Hm.” Avon clasped his hands over his stomach and exhaled. “If we were going to sleep together, one would hope it would be less prosaic than actually sleeping.”
Cally pushed herself up on one elbow on her couch, braced next to him in the medical unit. That wicked little smile of his was there, hallmark of the mind, but only pasted on in a valiant effort by a man in desperate medical need of sleep. Sleep was such a simple thing. Too long without it, and any human would go mad, though. Hallucinations, psychosis, and death lay before him. It was humbling, in a way, that distrustful Avon came to her for help.
She leaned down and sampled his mouth, very gently, not disturbing the sensor pads.
Each contemplated the other. Kerr Avon’s eyes swam in dark pools of fatigue, and the lines at his mouth looked hastily drawn. It was not a kind face, but it was normally a very alive one, for all his imperious pose. He had not raised a hand to aid her kiss, merely responded as gently as her initial impulse, lips parting so that their breath mingled between their bodies. They shared silence.
Finally, “May I ask what you are thinking?”
Cally cocked her head. “I am thinking that most of the time I do not want to sleep with you.”
“I see.”
Her lips quirked without conscious prompting. “You liked kissing that other me. The one from the sarcophagus.”
The wicked delight of his smile became more genuine. “That adventure did have its merits. And my observation was correct.”
“‘Beautiful when angry?’"
“Yes.” His fatigue-bruised eyes grew distant, seeing something Cally couldn’t. “But she was simple.” Then his full attention riveted onto her again. “Whereas the whole you is decidedly more complex, and worth knowing.” It was quite possibly the closest to saying they were friends he’d ever get out loud. In some things, Avon let actions speak for him. Grumbling incessantly while he saved your life, because it mattered to him that you existed, was simply one way of keeping you from thanking him.
“Back home, my partner would have been compatible.” She told him.
Avon simply regarded her from the medical unit, paying the compliment of letting her think.
“Telepathically.” she finished. “And yet...Sometimes I think of you.”
“But not really.” He noted. Insightful as ever. “We are crippled, compared to you.”
“I am sorry. Do I cause you pain, Avon?”
The answer was one of the saddest smiles she’d ever seen. “No. Not really. You have paid me a very fine compliment.”
She bent her head again for a quick maternal buss, then settled back into position, the screen of the handcomp where she could see it easily.
* Now. Focus on our breathing. One, two. One, two. *