Salvation (6 page)

Over the next few months, I developed a nightly routine with my weapons. I practiced drawing and sighting over and over, and gradually it did begin to feel like it was second nature. I also made my own scarecrow out of some extra pillows and one of my old
T-shirts and set it on top of my desk so I could practice throwing from across the room. I hit the target almost every time straight on, and once in a while when I was feeling brave, I would practice turning and throwing. I wasn't very good at it, and nicked the metal walls beside my desk more than a few times from that practice. However, I trained faithfully and felt myself building some nice firmness in my arms and shoulders.

Although I
now had clothes in my closet and a holster on my hip, I still didn't feel comfortable leaving the ship. But I tried to wear a few of the outfits around the ship on my free days to please the captain.

I still avoided the other crew members except in relation to my work, not particularly wanting to make friends and busying myself in the evenings with my weapons.

To my surprise one night when I was eating dinner, Jeremiah came over and sat across from me with his own meal.

"Hey, kid," he said cheerfully.

"Hi, sir." I racked my brain as to why he could be sitting by me.

"So, have you been practicing with those knives you got?"
he asked, grinning and looking me in the eye.

I started. "How did you know?"

He laughed. "Well, I figured being..." he coughed, "...small...you'd want to get right on with protecting yourself. So do you?"

"Yes, sir," I replied. "Every night."

"Good for you." He took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully. "You're good for the captain, you know." He said, taking another bite.

"
Wha-what do you mean?" I asked, my heart rate accelerating.

"You give him someone to take care of, something to care about," he said calmly, stirring his stew. "I haven't seen that side of him in a long time."

"Glad to be of service, sir," I mumbled. He just chuckled in response. I was almost finished, so I decided to make my escape before he made any more astute observations or started asking me questions. I waved good-bye and went back to my room and practiced with my weapons.

Lying in bed that night, I
thought about what Jeremiah had told me. I was glad that the captain was beginning to open up again, but I knew that he saw me as a kind of surrogate little brother instead of what I really wanted to be.

Suddenly, I bolted upright. I ran over to the computer panel by the door and looked at the date. Yesterday had been my twenty-second birthday. I had completely forgotten about it.
That meant I had been on board the
Exteris
for almost a year.

Walking slowly back over to my bed, I climbed in and covered myself with the thick blankets. Twenty-two. I had always imagined
growing up and wearing beautiful dresses, finding someone I loved, and getting married, as my parents had. They had never been rich, but I remembered my father putting his arm around my mother and smiling, saying, "At least we have each other, and that's all that really matters."

Sooner or later, I was going to have to find a way off this ship,
if I ever wanted that kind of life. Otherwise, I was due to remain a small, runty kid until I was found out, which would eventually happen as I never got any taller or larger. But how could I try to leave and follow my heart, when it was firmly stuck on the captain?

A few weeks later,
I awoke to the sound of sirens blaring. I opened my door just in time to see the captain run past, pulling on a shirt. "Fire in the hold!" he yelled loudly, and other doors opened.

Since I
still slept in my clothes, I grabbed an extra T-shirt, threw on my shoes, and ran after him. As we reached the cargo bay, Jeremiah ran up. "It's the Ravian goods, sir, they must have had something illegal in there."

"Dammit!"
the captain ground out, pulling on a yellow jacket. Then he stilled and gave Jeremiah a sharp glance. "We put those goods next to our medical supplies."

"I know, sir," Jeremiah
answered, regret written all over his face. "I shouldn't have trusted them, sir. It's my fault."

The captain didn't acknowledge his words, but quickly grabbed two fire
extinguishers and nodded me toward the blankets. "Well, let's put this thing out before the whole damn ship goes up." I grabbed as many as I could and ran after him.

We fought desper
ately to put the fire out. I used the blankets to beat back the escaping flames and sprayed foam from the hydrants. Once I got too close and a flame leaped to my jeans. Two large hands grabbed my blanket and smothered it before it could spread.

"Be careful, Simmons," the captain shouted over the noise of the flames, handing back the blanket.

"Yes, sir," I shouted back.

Two hours later, the fire was out, but the hold was charred pitch
-black where it had been and most of the medical supplies were ruined.

Most
of the men were sitting down, taking a break before heading back to bed or their posts.

But suddenly, we heard a swi
ft
crack, crack, crack
and the captain, who had been standing on a pile of charred rubble, pointed up, shouting "Look out!" But several men who had been sitting were not that fast.

The captain saw them and clenched his jaw, and I instantly knew what he was going to do. "Captain, no," I shouted, but it was too late because just then a huge
, metal beam broke off from the ceiling.

He positioned himself under it and it landed on his shoulder. He roared with the strain
of holding it, but it gave the crewmen a few seconds to move. Then he went to his knees and the beam slid off his shoulder sideways.

Suddenly all the men were crowding around him, trying to see if he was ok
ay. A futile effort, I thought. Of course he wasn't okay. Thankful for my small size for probably the first time since I'd come aboard, I slipped between them and took his good arm.

"Let's get you to the
medic bay, sir," I grunted under his weight, motioning for the others to move out of the way. He slowly stood up and I put his good arm around my shoulders, leading the way. He had a slight limp, but I knew it was the shoulder which would be the worst.

A few
X-rays showed a broken collarbone, which the medic immobilized by putting his arm in a sling. I was surprised at that; since they had regrown my bones I assumed they would use an accelerated treatment on the captain as well.

The captain must have seen my lo
ok, because he explained, "Most of our medical supplies were destroyed in that fire. We do have some accelerated treatments left, but I need to keep them on hand in case of a true emergency, as yours was."

"Do you want anything for the pain, sir?" The medic asked.

"What do we have left?" the captain asked, but I think he already knew the answer.

"Just the
pratnis and the cetaline, sir."

The captain cursed
but didn't look surprised. "No," he ground out. "Save it."

The medic pressed his lips together.
I could tell he wanted to argue, but even he agreed with the captain. "Yes, sir."

I walked back with the captain to our quarters
, and I could tell he was in a lot of pain. I bit my lip.

"Captain?" I asked.

"What is it, Simmons?" he asked tiredly, running his uninjured hand through his sooty hair.

"I have something that will help your shoulder, if you want it."

He eyed me and looked like he was going to refuse, but then he capitulated. "All right. I'm willing to try anything at this point. Let me take a shower and then I'll come over."

"Yes, sir." I ran into my quarters, tore off my clothes, and jumped into the shower. I had never scrubbed off so much black soot so quickly. I could finally help the captain! I felt almost giddy with excitement. He had done so much for me, and I knew this ointment would work.

I hopped out
, bound myself hastily and threw on another set of clothing, grabbing the jar of ointment from my pack.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and then it slid open. The captain walked in, shirtless
except for the sling. My mouth fell open. I had never seen a shirtless man before, and certainly not one this big. But watching him, he was almost beautiful. For all its size, his body was lean and muscled. I could see some hairs curling lightly across his chest and making a trail down his stomach.

He heard my quickly indrawn breath and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Simmons. We don't have time for modesty here. I'm tired and in pain. What do you have for this shoulder?"

He startled me out of my perusal and I felt my face turn red. "I'm sorry, sir. It's an ointment, sir. Over here, sir," I stuttered, motioning to the sofa. He walked over tiredly and sat down.

Shaking my head slightly to break free of my trance,
I walked to the sofa and knelt down next to him. I studied his shoulder, which was red and swollen and already turning black and purple. Taking a deep breath, I dipped my fingers into the ointment. I had always used it conservatively on myself to get rid of cramps, but this time I took a liberal amount on my first two fingers. I placed them on his shoulder lightly and he winced, reflexively grabbing my arm tightly with his other hand.

"This is going to hurt a bit,
sir," I said worriedly, slowly unwrapping his fingers from my arm. "But I promise, it is going to make the pain go away."

He released my arm and
his hand clenched into a fist. He gritted his teeth. "Just do it."

I smoothed the ointment over his entire shoulder, working from back to front. I traced the muscles with my fingers. He laid his head back g
ingerly and closed his eyes. As I slowly worked, the creases on his face seemed to ease and his body started to relax.

"That's
a miracle ointment you've got there, Simmons." His words were slightly slurred and I could tell the combination of fatigue and pain had taken its toll.

"Yes
, sir," I said softly, placing my hand on his arm. "But it isn't a cure. The pain will come back eventually, so try not to move too much while you aren't feeling anything. It's still better to wear the shoulder brace."

He nodded with his eyes still closed.
He had always been so in control, seeing him vulnerable was...endearing. His skin was warm and smooth, and touching it made me feel as if I were on fire.

When I was sure his shoulder was
thoroughly covered, I almost stood up, but then I realized he had fallen asleep. As of their own accord, my fingers kept moving slowly and steadily over his body. Daring more, I ran my fingers over the hard muscle of his chest. Fine hairs dusted the smooth skin, and as I approached the nipple it pebbled beneath my fingers. Nervously, I looked up at the captain's face, but he was soundly asleep.

I looked at his lips. They looked smooth and soft,
and for a few moments I wondered if I could get away with kissing him before he woke up. Just one movement, and my lips could be on his...

It took all of my reserve not to kiss him.

I wanted any excuse to keep touching him, so I got up and moved to his other side, massaging on the other shoulder.

"Huh?" He seemed to wake, but I reassured him.

"Don't worry, sir. I'm just going to do the other shoulder, because although you strained your right shoulder, your left would have braced in compensation."

"Ok," he mumbled, and closed his eyes again.

On his left shoulder, I massaged more deeply into the muscle, trying to remove the tension. Then I moved my hands to the sides of his neck, making long strokes with my thumbs and loosening the muscles there. Finally, I knew that, as much as I wanted to, I couldn't let him sleep any longer.

"Captain
." I spoke loudly and his eyes flickered open. "Come on, sir, let's get you back to your quarters."

I tugged at his uninjured hand but it was impossible to move him. His eyes closed again.

"Captain," I repeated even louder, although it ended on a squeak.

He opened his eyes again. "Hold your horses, Simmons, I'm coming." He struggled to his feet and I all but pushed him to the door. I steered him toward his own room and lifted his
uninjured arm to slap his heavy hand on the scanner.

Once inside, I helped him stumble to the bed in the dark.

Once he was safely on the bed, I looked down through the darkness at his handsome face.

"Good
night, sir. If you need more ointment, I can put some on for you tomorrow evening," I walked slowly to the door, every part of my being wishing that I could stay there and look after him.

"Simmons," he called out softly.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're still a pain in the ass."

I chuckled as the door closed behind me.