Oh, all right.
*Warning: contains semi-intense kissing scene*
“He’s ready to see you now.” Barlow whispered, but her words carried in the miserable silence. Deryn was glad for the interruption, but not nearly as much as Alek.
“Is he all right?” Alek asked immediately, jumping to his feet.
“He’ll live.” Barlow said, with the faint traces of a smile. “Tough old geezer, that one. And if you two don’t come visit him this instant, he’ll probably pull himself out of bed to see you, leg injury or not.”
“He-he wants to see me?” Deryn asked, flabbergasted. Some said that near-death experiences drew you closer, but the bloody Count had stayed as far away from Deryn as barking possible. Not that she was complaining.
“I believe his exact words were “Bring in the young master…and his dumpkopft of a friend, of you must.” Barlow was smiling again. What was it with her?
“I don’t know if-“Deryn began to protest. The Count was scary enough when he wasn’t in agony. Would he be in a foul enough mood to tell her secret?
Deryn was cut off, however, by Alek. “Come on, Dylan!” he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the room. Deryn cursed silently at the bloody count, who probably knew that Alek would drag her along anyway…and that she would be unable to resist him.
“Ow!” she said, grabbing her wrist the second Alek released his death-hold. “You didn’t have to…” but Alek waved the words away.
“Shh!” he’s speaking.
“Prince….Aleksandar. Young Master. Alek.” the Count muttered. His breathing was heavy, labored, and even in the dim light Deryn could see that his hair and mustache were plastered to his head with sweat. Deryn almost felt bad for the cleverboots. Almost.
“Yes?” Alek was apprehensive. Dylan had felt him stiffen when the Count had called him “Alek”. She was sure that had never happened before. Always young master, or Prince Aleksander. Deryn approved of this change.
“I…I…love you…like…I loved…Sam, like…my own son…I want you…to know that. I somehow…never had a chance…to tell you.” If the moment wasn’t so touching Deryn would have laughed. “Never had the chance.” Bucket of clart. Couldn’t swallow his pride, more like it.
“Volger.” Alek asked softly, disbelieving. Deryn could see a single tear make it’s way down his already grimy face. He didn’t have to tell Volger he loved him. The Count already knew. He held up a hand to stop the Prince (likely before he said something stupidly affectionate that would embarrass the royal house forever, Deryn would think when she surveyed the memory much later).
“And…I trust you…in all your decisions. Even….the idiot…Darwinist.”
Dylan had to bite down a sharp retort. Even gravely injured, the Count just had to insult. Typical.
But the next words the Count said were not directly at Alek, but at her. “I will…allow it.” He said, closing his eyes as if in great pain. He probably was…but a different kind of pain than Alek thought.
“You are allowing me to be friends with Dylan? I’m afraid I don’ t know what you mean. We’ve been friends for a whole year now…”
“Yeah, what the bloody hell are you talking about?” Deryn decided to play along. She was entitled to a little teasing, after all she’d gone through at this man’s hands.
Volger’s eyes flashed with rage. “You…know. Tell him…” he murmured. He seemed to be lapsing…
“Fine.” Deryn said.
“Permission to be friends? We’ve been friends for such a long time! I think he might be delirious! Dylan, do you have any idea what he’s talking about.”
Deryn smiled a dangerous smile. With one last look at Volger, who jerked his head weakly as if to say “if you must.” Deryn elaborated.
“Not permission to be friends” she said, grabbing his tie with one hand and pushing him against the wall with the other. “Permission for this.” And she kissed him. Dead on the lips.
It was marvelous, better than she had imagined. His lips were soft, and moist, and tasted somehow like raspberries. She pushed closer, relishing in the moment, feeling his feeble struggles cease as his body went limp with shock. She imagined his beautiful green eyes widening to the size of dinner plates but she couldn’t see them because her eyes were closed. And then, abruptly as it started, it ended. Her eyes flew open in time to see him slide all the way down the wall and land with a dull thump on the floor, looking dazed. Deryn mentally kicked herself. What had she done! And who else had seen? If one of the crew members walked in… She looked around the room. Volger appeared to be out cold, and Dr. Barlow was leaning over him. Deryn hadn’t seen her arrive. She braced herself for the Dr.’s reaction…only to be met with a raised eyebrow and very amused expression. “You had better explain yourself, Mr. Sharp.” She said, nodding towards the slumped over (yet entirely adorable Alek), “or else I have a feeling we’ll have two unconscious men on our hands.”
