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by heehee
She never really spoke much. At least, not to him. She used to be nice, and giving, they said. But she lost a son and never got over that. About three years ago, they'd say.
That was all Seamus really knew about her, and he believed it. Sometimes, they'd share food or company with each other, but that was it. She just sat in her little corner most of the time, staring. She couldn't move, anyway. She had an injury, and Seamus didn't really understand it, but if she got up and moved too much, she could bleed to death.
He never learned her name; it didn't seem that important at the time, compared to fighting for your life. Everyone called her Ma, so that worked for him.
Ma'd always help with Seamus' cuts, if he came to her. He didn't have to say anything to her, either. He'd just walk up and she'd take care of him in a way only a mother can. Even his own mom had lost that touch. When his dad left, she did too, in a way.
Once, after a fight over two soft apples--still red, opposed to the normal brown, so they were worth the extra hard bumps and bruises he'd received, he passed her alleyway.
He was going to go home and eat, let his mother take care of him. He was bleeding, a lot, and he didn't want to worry Ma. If she would even care-- he had no idea.
But something caught his eye. Her spot was empty. At first, he felt sad, someone had come and killed her, he figured. But then he looked to the side. She was up. He wanted to walk over and tell her to sit down, but he didn't. He just watched as she moved in a graceful circle, her hands up, as if holding an imaginary person. She was humming softly to herself, but Seamus didn't know the tune.
He suddenly felt like he was spying on her and turned to leave, but she spotted him.
Without a word, she called him over.
He hesitated, thinking she was after the apples. Food was rare and wasn't given all that freely. He then realized he really couldn't eat both, he'd get cramps for having too much. So he obeyed.
As soon as he got arms length away, she put out a hand, stopping him. She gently took both apples from him, and when he started to protest, put a soft finger to his lips.
She set the apples to the side and grabbed his wrists. Leading one to her shoulder and holding the other.
Seamus was beginning to think this was very past bizarre, but he didn't want to offend Ma, she gave willingly. Besides, she looked like she needed him to be there.
The position was odd, as his head only reached just under her breasts, but she wasn't paying attention.
Slowly, she started swaying back and forth. Very slowly at first, so he could pick up on the movements. Her hand was on his hip and she'd push every once and a while if he didn't get a step right.
His side hurt from a particularly hard hit, and she was digging into it every time, but he didn't complain. It felt nice to be this close to someone.
After what had to be a minute of silence, she finally said, "One day, you're going to be off this planet. Somewhere nice. And a girl will be there. And she'll look over and think, 'Look at him. He looks special. He looks like he could be the -one-.'" She paused, looking up at the yellowish sky. "'If only... if only he'd as me to dance. Because, if he can dance, oh, I'd love him.' And if you don't, you could miss out on the one who could love you the most. And hurt you the most. And believe in you no matter what. And care for you. And not have a problem with admitting it. And you'll miss out on all that. Unless you ask her to dance."
Seamus felt confused and took a chance. "Why does dancing matter?"
She chuckled, and looked into his eyes. She looked younger. Happier. "Because dancing... It shows so much. It shows you have enough dedication to learn something that doesn't qualify as sports. It shows you have grace. It shows off gorgeous baby-blues. And it shows warmth. And caring. And love."
Now, he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to ruin the mood, and with his voice changing like it was lately, he would probably shatter it, so he stayed quiet.
"But you have to ask." She said in a dreamy voice.
Seamus had no idea how long they dance. All he knew was, someone cared enough to talk to him, and she said he had gorgeous baby-blues.
At the end of it, he was tired enough to go to sleep right there, but that could've been blood loss. And he had that 'dance' down. He offered her the apple before going home to split his with his mother.
She watched him as he ran out of the alley, and she sat down in her spot, smiling softly, feeling pity for herself and the sweet boy who had to grow up in that hell-hole.
The next day, Ma died with the apple still clutched to her breast.
For some reason, Seamus couldn't bring himself to take it. He'd taken from the dead before, it was nothing new. But he just couldn't. Let alone eat it.
Eventually, he hid it under her in the pile of bodies to burn. He knew it was dumb, but Ma had given him something last night. Something that meant a lot to her, even if it meant nothing to him. Yet.
And he could swear, as the bodies burned, the smell of apples was everywhere.
Harper stared down at his cup. It was one of the glass ones. Looked crystal.
He then looked up at the rest of the table's occupants.
Happy. That was the only word. Not even content. HAPPY!
Of course, Liquor'll do that to you. The basic message of that night was, 'Hurray for Commonwealth! We're saving the universe!'
Harper didn't know why, but he found this all very annoying. Everything offended him. He hadn't felt this way since he was a teenager. At first he thought it was because of sleep deprivation-- he'd been having nightmares again. But that didn't seem right.
There -was- a good reason to get drunk. Four planets had allied in the early 30th century, and once they convinced one of those planets to join, the other 3 had to agree. So they had four new ones in two days.
It was pretty good.
So, 'Hurray for Commonwealth. We're saving the universe!'
Gods, how stupid was that? Even the wine glass was annoying him. Crystal? Why hadn't sold -that- in the 'garage sale?' Of course all his toys had to go. But not boss-man's crystal.
He looked up at Hunt. He was the only one who wasn't drinking. Right. Like he was above it or something?!
The scowl on his face deepened. Dylan looked up and seemed alarmed at Harper's expression.
"Something wrong?" He asked innocently.
"Nothing." Harper said darkly. "Hurray for commonwealth. We're saving the universe." It felt good to say what had been on his mind for such a long time.
"Hurray!" Trance giggled, bring up her cup like at toast and everyone mimicked her.
"Oh? Is Seamus the penis upset?" Beka laughed.
Harper stared at her as everyone-including Rev and Tyr laughed at that.
He'd -never- ran across that nick-name before. It seemed kinda obvious, now. Beka laughed a little bit more before making a, 'I'm-about-to-pass-out-now' sigh and falling into her half-empty plate.
Tyr picked her off the plate easily and swung her over his shoulder.
"Gonna take her to bed?" Dylan asked and he nodded, walking out.
"Right." Rev laughed, looking over his shoulder. "Go put her to bed."
Ever think Magog can't look suggestively?
"Shit. You're all slammed." Harper sighed, not as upset now that he got to see Tyr blush.
Dylan stood. "Seamus' right. I think it's time all of us went to bed."
Harper found himself scowling again. 2 things. 1: Who the fuck did he think he was? Sure he was the captain, but he was acting like a dad or something. 2: What was with using Seamus instead of Harper? Was he trying to be his 'friend?' He hated those kinds of boss's.
"Wha?" Trance was asking, standing up some-what gracefully. "But I -like- this stuff." She indicated the wine.
"We have a lot more. Don't worry." Dylan said.
"But..." Trance said, sounding confused. "I -like- this stuff."
Rev escorted her out, and Harper considered teasing him about that, but decided that was way too gross to even joke about. He stared to get up, when he noticed Dylan was staring at him.
"What?" He asked, not bothering to come up with something funny.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you so upset?" Dylan asked.
"I'm a mean drunk." Harper muttered, heading for the door.
"That's not true." Dylan called, still sitting. "I've seen you pretty wasted before. You're a charming drunk. Hyperactive, but charming."
"I'm glad you think so." Harper almost spat.
Hunt actually flinched from that.
Harper smiled a little. Maybe boss-man -had- drank a little. That surprised him. Dylan didn't like sweet drinks. The wine had been sweet like... Harper tasted what was left of it. Apples.
"Everyone else was in a good mood."
"Maybe I don't like getting called penis." Harper said. "Besides, I'm a leader. I stray from the pack."
Dylan smiled a little at that. "What would make you happy?'
"What?" Harper asked intelligently.
"You heard me. I want everyone to be in a good mood when they go to bed tonight." Dylan said. "I'll do anything. Except chocolate."
Harper rolled his eyes and started for the door again. He wasn't in the mood for this.
"No, I'm serious." Dylan said. "Anything."
"Oh..." Harper tried to think of an Earth phrase Dylan wouldn't know. "Bite me. You don't want me happy. You want to know that -you- made me that way.You want to know that your perfect little self kept up it's perfect record and tried it's hardest to make the world a perfect place, so you can sleep tonight. You couldn't care less about me or Rev or Trance or ... well, you do seem to care about Beka."
He sighed. "You just want the whole world to be perfect."
Dylan was quiet, and Harper started for the door. Again.
"You're perceptive when you're drunk. Wrong. But perceptive."
"No. I just get pissed off enough to say what I'm thinking easier."
"Har-- Seamus, I do care about you. I care about all of my crew--"
"Bull shit."
"You're saying you don't care about us?"
"No." Harper snapped.
"Oh. So you're saying that the only person capable of caring is you, and no one can return it?" Dylan asked.
"No." But it wasn't as quick this time.
"I -do- care." Dylan said. Harper had to look down.
Dylan's gaze was too intense and that smell of apples was making him even more light headed...
"Dance." He said suddenly.
"Huh?"
"That would make me happy. I wanna dance." Harper said. He was so -sure- Dylan would say no. He had no clue why, he just was.
"Okay." Dylan said. "What dance?"
Harper got a deer in the headlights look. "Um... the one..." He couldn't explain it. "C'mere."
"I only know one." Harper said, knowing he sounded stupidly serious, but Dylan just nodded as he came over. Harper took his hands and directed one to his hip while taking the other. Resting his and on Dylan's much broader shoulders, he looked up. "You know this one?" He asked.
"Yeah. It's called the waltz." Dylan said, smiling. "I didn't think anyone knew it anymore."
Harper just shrugged, amazed at how the simple position brought back memories. The familiar motions started, relaxing him in a most depressing way.
"How did you learn it?" Dylan asked.
Harper didn't know why, but that question made him want to cry.
"What's wrong?" Dylan asked, and Harper guessed he could tell he was barely holding back tears. The blond shook his head and pushed his cheek against Dylan's chest, loving the feeling of protection Dylan was giving so easily.
He ended up telling the captain the whole story, about Ma and the apples. He had no idea why this was affecting him so much; that story was probably the least damaging ones he had about Earth. Maybe that was why. But Dylan held him as he cried and didn't ask any questions.
He had no idea how long they danced. All he remembered was someone cared enough to listen to him.
And getting so tired he could've fallen asleep right there, but that could've been the wine.
At the end of it, Dylan literally carried Harper to Dylan's quarter's, he was too tired to protest.
He fell asleep as soon as that warm body curled up around him, but not before hearing, "Good night, Baby-blues."
He didn't have any nightmares that night.
~~Owrai
Sorry if that was a little rushed. I really wanted to get this up. ^__^ um... give me feedback, or I will go to your house and you'll find yourself in a very uncomfortable situtation. ^___^