<USS Avalon> =/\= Sleepless In Space =/\=

Advisory: This log is rated Adult.



=/\= Sleepless In Space =/\=
by Miriam Francher and El-Kainah Ngaio


Something woke Miriam in the middle of the night, and as the sleep-fog 
cleared from her brain she realized the distress was not hers, but her 
bed-partner's. She sat up, hugging herself, and watched El as he slept. He 
twitched a 
little, restlessly, and she could sense the unease of a nightmare. Miri hoped 
he 
would wake, but was afraid to touch him, either with her hand or with her mind, 
for fear of making the nightmare worse.

El tossed and turned, the nightmare wracking his body and mind. He turned 
again and woke with a shout, "No!" as he sat up in the bed panting heavily.

Miri was right there, drawing him to her, stroking his sweaty brow. Now that 
he was awake, no longer in the grip of the dream, her mind reached, wrapping 
him in soothing emotion. "I'm here," she whispered, holding him.

He closed his eyes a moment and tried to focus his mind on the moment and the 
feelings Miri was projecting to him. "Miri," he whispered. "I'm sorry I woke 
you," his voice was shaking and sounded like gravel in his ears. 

"You didn't," she fibbed. After all, he hadn't intended to wake her. It was 
in the nature of being so deeply connected. "Love you, El," she murmured, and 
shifted to cuddle up close to him.

He leaned into her a bit. "I love you too, Miri," he said. "But you shouldn't 
lie to me. I know I woke you," he smiled at her. The dream was slipping away 
with her arms around him. They felt so comforting but they felt odd at the 
same time.

"It's not your fault," Miriam insisted, snuggling. "It's all right... Did you 
want to talk about it, love?" Maybe if he could talk it out, the nightmare 
wouldn't return.

He nodded and sat so he was leaning against the headboard of the bed. There 
was still a slight sheen to his smooth chest. "It started out... I was small, 
with my brothers and sisters, with my real parents on their ship. I don't 
remember where we were going." He took a breath and went on. "Next thing I knew 
I 
was being attacked by a snow buck on a planet. Then it changed again and it was 
a Borg attacking me and many others."

Miri scooted up to sit beside him and cuddle, listening.

"I don't know," he said. "It's hard to explain," he added, and shook his 
head. 

"Part dream and part memory," she nodded, understanding. "And it's rough when 
the memory isn't your own."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I've had those kinds of dreams before. When I was 
just found by my parents. This one was different."

"Different how?" Miri asked gently.

"I don't know. Like I said, it's hard to explain," he said again. He moved to 
get out of the bed. "I'm hungry you want anything?" he asked her.

"Are you sure your stomach can handle food after that dream?" she inquired, 
concerned. But she followed him out of bed, pulling on a robe.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm a little hungry but I can feel my stomach 
churning too," he said. He shook his head. "It is so strange."

Miriam went to the replicator for tea for them both. "The Borg attacked your 
people a long time ago," she commented, bringing him a mug of steaming liquid.

"Yeah, and then the dream changed again. They weren't attacking my people, 
they were attacking us. You and me. I was trying to get to you to help you but 
I 
couldn't."

"If I am ever attacked like that," Miri promised, "I will use every trick 
I've got, and the heck with not showing off."

He smiled at her. "I don't know too many tricks myself," he said. "Thank you 
for the tea," he said as he took a cup from her. 

"You'll have to learn more tricks, then," she teased gently, and added, "The 
tea should settle your stomach... did you want to try something solid, too? Or 
maybe some soup?"

"Soup sounds good," he answered. "I used to have nightmares all the time," he 
said. "After I was attacked in the camp or after I was found by my parents," 
he paused a long moment. "Why now?"

Miriam went back to the replicator for soup, leaving her own mug of tea 
floating in mid-air. Slowly it drifted to the table and set itself down. "Maybe 
because you're still adjusting to my Gift?" she suggested. "It took me years to 
grow into it, and I still can't control the music most of the time. And now all 
of a sudden you're linked into it..."

"Why would that affect me?" he asked.

Deliberately, she switched languages on him, speaking in her own People's 
native tongue. "Because your brain isn't used to it yet... because you still 
have 
trouble keeping track of what language you're thinking in, when it isn't one 
you learned in the normal way..."

He blinked as she switched languages more from shock than a lack of 
understanding of what she was saying to him. "But we have been communicating 
like this 
since we met," he answered her in that same language.

Again, she switched, this time to Navajo, which she'd picked up as a child 
but which no adult could learn except the way her People learned languages. "I 
spoke your language, my love. But you've learned now to speak mine." Miriam 
brought the bowls of soup to the table. "All my People have a knack for 
languages, but my Gift gives me a little edge beyond that..."

"And because we are linked?" he questioned again, answering back in the 
language she had used with him. "I am able to do the same thing?"

"Only with me, I think," she said thoughtfully, "though it may carry over, I 
don't know." Taking his hand, she led him to his chair and sat beside him. 
"What language are you thinking in right now?" she asked, just for fun.

"I don't even know," he said. "El-Aurian I think," he continued.

"Not even close," Miri giggled, loving him.

"You know what language I am thinking in now?" he asked.

"Of course," she told him. "I'm a Communicator, and we're linked. I only have 
to think of you, and I can sense what language you're thinking in. Language 
is my specialty -- and conscious thought is the very outer surface of a 
person's mind anyway."

"Then you tell me," he said with a smile. He took a spoonful of the soup. It 
nearly scalded the roof of his mouth.

"Just now, we've been speaking an ancient Earth language called Navajo," said 
Miri, and blew gently on a spoonful of her own soup to cool it. "It was used 
as a code language for a long time because it's impossible to learn as an 
adult."

"Impossible huh?" he asked. He took another spoonful of soup. It tasted good 
but it was still burning his mouth with every bite.

"Well, impossible to achieve fluency, anyway." Miri watched him grimace.  
"You could slow down the molecular activity of that soup to cool it," she 
commented.

"It's fine," he said. What he didn't say was that he had been trying to do 
that and had only succeeded in doing the opposite.

She'd figured that out, but let him work on the problem himself. Some things 
were better learned through practice and experience. "So it's entirely 
possible that your brain is still trying to cope with my Gift and that's why 
you've 
had disturbing dreams," she said in El-Aurian.

"Any tricks on making them stop?" he asked pushing the soup away for a 
moment.

"I'm sure a Sorter would know all the tricks," said Miri wryly, "but since 
I'm not one, probably just sharing them and analyzing them ought to make them 
less disturbing. It usually works for me, when I have nightmares."

He looked at her. "What do you dream about when you have nightmares?" he 
asked.

"Sometimes, other people's nightmares or fears come in to me," she told him 
softly. "When I was younger, before I learned to cope with my Gift, I would 
wake up screaming in fifteen languages -- all stuff that came in to me from 
other 
people who never realized they were projecting their thoughts or dreams. But 
in the last few years, when I've had nightmares they were mostly from my 
People's memories of bad times."

He looked at her a moment. "Like when they were slaughtered?" he asked taking 
her hand gently

Miriam nodded, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't meant to bring it up."

"It's all right." She smiled wistfully. "It's a memory -- we all carry it 
around, some more vividly than others -- but it was a long time ago."

"Some memories are more vivid? Or some people carry it more vividly?" he 
asked, curious.

"Both..." the wistful smile never faded. "Some memories are clearer because 
they were Assembled repeatedly, or because the person who lived them was 
careful to place them where they'd be more accessible. And some people are more 
sensitive to racial memory than others. Communicators, like me. Sensitives, 
Sorters. Sometimes someone will just have a special knack for memory, too."

He shook his head. "So you get it twice?" he asked.

"Twice?" He'd gone off on a thought-tangent and she hadn't followed; she 
needed clarification.

"Because of your Gift and because of the memories being assembled?" he asked.

"Oh..." Miri took a sip of her tea. "Sometimes," she agreed. "But mostly I've 
learned to handle the Gift. So if I have nightmares, or if the memories come 
crowding in, it's not because of that, it's just what happens to anyone once 
in a while."

"Oh," he said. He stood up and started to pace a bit. "Will they go away for 
me when I get used to having so many languages in my head?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure they will," said Miriam, reaching to touch him with a 
tendril of love. A wisp of melody wove around him as he paced. "But if it gets 
to be 
too much of a problem, I can send a message home and they'll try to send a 
Sorter to us to get it straightened out."

He nodded. "I am not sure I want to try to sleep any more tonight," he said 
softly.

Miri rose from her seat and came to put her arms around him. "Will you be 
rested enough to work, if you don't sleep?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," he said. He ran a hand down her arm as it was wrapped around 
him. "I probably should try," he admitted.

"Do you suppose you could sleep if you were completely relaxed?" was the 
next, gently teasing, question.

He turned and smiled at her. "I suppose that would depend on how you planned 
on getting me to relax," he answered with a smile.

With a mischievous smile, Miriam traced her fingertips over El's chest. "I 
think I could find a way..." she said in a slow drawl.

"Oh really?" he asked 

"Mm-hmm," she nodded, and led him back toward the bedroom.

El groaned and followed her. "What kind of wicked plan is this?" he asked 
huskily.

"Just a conspiracy of one," she told him, in mock-solemnity. "You're even 
more fun to cuddle up to when you're relaxed, El." Her eyes danced with 
suppressed laughter.

He smiled. "You help me relax. I hope I help you too," he told her.

Miri lifted, hovering a moment, and then plopped onto the bed. "I love you," 
she said softly, her voice low in her throat, and she held out her arms. "Come 
here..."

"I love you too," he said and tried to lift onto the bed himself. His feet 
came off the floor and he came up and reached for her from a few centimeters 
above her.

She laughed with delight, and tugged him toward her. It was so exciting, 
learning what he could do. There wasn't a lot of specific information about 
El-Aurians in the databases, only notes on their history and that they were 
psi-sensitive and didn't discuss it much. Miriam loved to watch El learning to 
do the 
things she could do, that most humanoids couldn't. "Come here and kiss me," 
she invited him.

He unfocused his mind and plopped beside her, bouncing gently with a grin as 
wide as hers was. He leaned in and gave her a warm passionate kiss. A kiss 
that lovers share.

Determined to relax him enough so that they both could sleep for a few more 
hours, Miri kissed back, deeply and sweetly, her hands tracing soft little 
patterns over his shoulders and chest. Her mind, twined into his in bright 
passion, conveyed her love to him without words.

El drank her in. Her taste thrilled him and the feeling of her in his mind 
thrilled him even more. The tips of her fingers down his back and chest caused 
the small hairs there to stand on end and goose flesh to appear behind the 
trail left by her fingers. ~~Mmmm,~~ he said silently.

Her fingers moved lower, and after a few more moments she broke the kiss so 
that her lips could follow her hands. Moist warm kisses traced down his chest 
and belly, as Miri pushed his pajama pants out of her way. ~~Have I mentioned 
lately that I love you?~~ she asked silently, pausing for a moment to rest her 
cheek against his thigh while she stroked him with feather-touches.

El could only groan in response. After a few moments he was able to focus his 
mind enough to respond more clearly. ~~Not in the last 20 seconds, no.~~

Miriam laughed, and planted a big wet kiss exactly where he was most 
sensitive.

El reached for her to bring her up to him as he laughed with her. "And what 
about you? Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he asked. "I have never 
felt about someone what I feel for you Miri," he said as he traced over her 
shoulder and down her arm.

"Every moment of every day that we're together, I can feel how much you love 
me," she told him warmly. Her arms went around him, and she eased into a 
position that gently taunted him with the promise of joining together. "Come 
into 
me," Miri whispered. "Fill me, and let me love you."

He shifted, and they were joined. "Miri," he said as he felt her around him. 
"You can feel that from me. Just from the background?" he asked breathlessly.

"You're a part of me," she said, gasping a little at the sensation. 
"Always..." And she moved, muscles tightening on him, crying out softly as the 
stimulation made her tremble all over.

He could feel her tightening on him and it caused a shudder to go through his 
whole body. "And you're a part of me, " he told her. "It is so good," he 
breathed.

~~It's all good, when we're together like this,~~ her mind spoke directly to 
his, before she lost herself in the feelings and couldn't form words any more.

Her words in his mind were the last thing he was able to focus on, before the 
blinding flash of pleasure overtook him. Words came and went in his mind but 
they were in a jumble and in a mixture of languages he both knew and didn't 
know.

It seemed like a very long time that they hung suspended in ecstasy, aware of 
nothing but the brightness of pleasure and the warmth of each other. 
Eventually it subsided, and Miri scattered small kisses along the line of El's 
jaw and 
neck. ~~Relaxed now?~~ she asked gently, knowing he was.

~~Mmm, very~~ he answered almost dreamily in his mind. It was as if a fog 
hung suspended with in him.

~~Sleep, love,~~ her mind whispered into his. ~~Sleep, knowing I am always 
with you.~~ Her head rested on his shoulder as they cuddled together, and with 
a 
stray thought she tugged the blanket up to cover them.

~~Not sleepy,~~ he told her. ~~Wide awake, actually.~~ He felt his fingers 
touching her arm.

Miri giggled softly. "But I'm sleepy," she complained, amused.

"Then sleep, Love," he told her. "I'll keep you warm and loved while you 
sleep."

"Wasn't the idea for you to be relaxed enough to sleep?" Miriam asked, but 
yawned before she could get the last word out.

"I am relaxed," he said. "I'm just not sleepy. But you are, Yawny Face," he 
called her.

"Follow me into sleep," she suggested, and was drifting off before she could 
explain what she meant.

His mind was still meshed deeply into hers so she didn't really need to 
explain what she meant. His mind fogged over and he was soon drifting off with 
her.

=/\=

Other related posts: