She Has No Time
By: sorrel_rowan
CATEGORY: Drabble
WARNINGS: None
AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:
http://kalesbohan.livejournal.com/
She needs air. It's a burning sensation in her lungs that
makes her reach for the hatch, and it has nothing to do with the heat inside
the cabin they've paid head over mikita to rent for the journey.
Vala looks at Alaric and looks away. He's a decent thief and knows a safe bet
but-
She needs air.
She puts one foot on the steel girders that make the walkway, feeling the rush
and heat of the atmosphere impact her skin. Contained in a bubble she can't
escape, Vala blinks languidly and looks from side to side. Stalls, vendors,
travelers and workers - they've hit the station at the wrong time, with too
many other ships using Tareka as a stop-over. It's worse than a
Teal'c would compare this to Coruscant-
She needs air.
Oh, great.
Her thoughts are sarcastic but her breath catches nonetheless.
Now I'm seeing them.
She blinks and shakes her head sharply before realising that she isn't seeing
things.
They finally made the silly things work.
I just wonder if they actually called them gateships.
She remembers she doesn't care, but her eyes linger.
One puny puddle jumper does not equal
SG-1. And even if it did, it's not as if they'd-
She turns sharply away, letting out an explosive breath and stretching her
cramped arms. She doesn't remember Tareka being this cold.
One puny little puddle jumper. Gateship.
Whatever. Just get back in the ship. It's not even-
Her mind and body disagree, and she turns. No hesitation, no second thoughts.
She's always been able to find his eyes and hold them and now is no different,
staring bright from the other side of a force shield through a crowd.
Crowds, trees, distance or the haze of stupidity; what did it matter?
He's stepping down from his puddle jumper - McKay
will have to face it, gateship isn't sticking in this galaxy or any other -
and coming towards her. Vala's never been one to freeze, but she finds herself
unable to move.
Daniel asks her what she's doing there. Where she's been.
Earth. On business. Just business.
Interstellar trade and all.
She asks where he's been.
Ralleru.
She blinks. He's smiling softly, and the one-word answer says more than whole
rants ever could or have done. He's gone where she was, just to look.
Vala turns away and senses him a step behind in a dance she isn't sure she remembers.
I was hoping to run into you.
She's stepped on his foot.
Oh?
He's raising his eyebrows with a smile. Trying not to be too bright-eyed or pay
too much attention.
I have a business proposition. It's just
business, you see. I have a venture- an adventure, if you will-
Oh?
She's attempting to stamp on his foot, but as they sit and he invades her
personal space, trapping one of her fidgeting hands between his, she notes that
however hard she attempts to crush his toes beneath her heel, he evades with
style.
I have a tablet. It's written in Ancient.
She studies the interesting engine of the transport opposite and dreads another
'oh'. He speaks too many languages to be able to say so much in a syllable.
Leads to a treasure?
Something wonderful for all of us.
They aren't talking about why she left or why he ran to her places but not to
her. They aren't talking about the losses piled on losses or the pains and
miscommunication they've raised to an art form.
Cypher?
Got it.
Location?
Earth.
Why do you need us?
Vala had been asking herself the same question, then denying it had ever
crossed her mind.
Well, I don't know the territory. Reading
the tablet is one thing -
-Understanding is another.
They share a smile, and it's all clean cut, fresh and light. He still hasn't
let go of her hand or her eyes.
Their eyes widen and heads turn at the blaring sound. Their docking slots are
running out of time, and there's no feeding these metres.
Vala tries to articulate her proposition again.
You'd be doing me a favour, see. Taking
this heavy, clunky thing off my hands. I wouldn't hang around for-
She stops because she's babbling.
She laughs in sheer relief at the sudden realisation that she's an idiot and
kisses the back of his hand, feeling his gaze on her, noting his genuine but
tentative grin as she meets his eyes. He leans his forehead against hers and
kisses her, a palm against her cheeks as she stands on the balls of her feet to
be tall enough. He firmly puts a hand on the small of her back, feeling her
balance fail slightly.
They break apart and he looks around the station bashfully as if he expects an
audience.
Vala ducks her head.
It's Tareka. They're used to random
strangers getting up to all sorts.
Vala meets his eyes, her smile slipping as the warning siren continues to count
down the minutes until the docks clamp their ships.
She walks away.
Alaric is a safe bet. He's a decent thief. He knows a good deal from a sour
one. He'd take care of her. He was crazy about her.
But who isn't?
She pauses at the doorway as it opens, Alaric staring at her with dark eyes.
Who I'm crazy about might, for once, be
more important.
Alaric is a decent sort, but Ralleru doesn't have rush hours, mochachinos,
She takes the bag he holds at an easy to reach level. He's a decent sort.
Daniel is staring at the open door of his Milky Way puddle jumper and Vala
knows the shape of his shoulders. He's brooding, worrying and generally feeling
teenage-like angst she'd hoped he'd left behind. He sees her in the reflection
and turns, eyes wide and hand outstretched. He raises an eyebrow as she raises
her chin and slots the bag handle into his hand.
You're coming home with me?
She doesn't question his presumption that she's going home. He's right.
Vala doesn't answer but swings her legs across his, waving to the others as she
reclaims her patches from
Six billion people, but sometimes all you
need is one.
**
The End **
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