Tying up Loose Ends

A Pink Dormouse Production

Chapter Three

Avon

Blake is dead. I can no longer avoid the fact. The emptiness inside is much greater than that when I lost Anna or when I found her and lost her for a second time. The difference this time I suppose is that I have no external events to occupy my mind.

Vila seems happy enough; he has been making himself surprisingly useful on the flight deck and asking Marianne endless questions about life on Astbury. It should make a suitable home for now: I expect Vila will settle down and return to petty thieving or some other source of income that is a total waste of his intelligence. As for myself- if I decide to go on living- I am sure there are sufficient funds in my various credit accounts to keep me in an appropriate level of luxury until an appropriate opportunity presents itself.

Vila came in earlier with food and pills. I ate a little to keep him from complaining then he sat and held me for a while. I need some sense of normality, a link to the past as it were but I must avoid becoming too dependent on him or it will be so much harder for both of us to go our separate ways, as we inevitably must.

Vila

He liked watching people work. Right now he especially liked watching Marianne work. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt, which showed off her muscles rather well, although Vila was a little disturbed by the ‘SCorps Forever’ tattoo on her right biceps, and her hair was tied in a loose ponytail rather than tucked under a cap. She was working in the depths of some circuitry under the weapons console so all he could see were her boots and the tops of her calves enclosed in tight leather, very reminiscent of...

Stop that thought right now! She wriggled out from under the console.

"There, that’s the back-up circuits checked over. I was going to wait until I got home but what with the increased activity in this sector and having you guys on board I thought I should get it done sooner."

"That’s reassuring." Vila hadn’t wanted to sound cynical; it just came out that way.

"Hey, you look beat. Why don’t you get some sleep now so you’re good and fresh to take over the watch later on?"

"Good idea. Wake me up when you need me." He moved through into the sleeping accommodation and closed the door behind him. Avon was curled up on the nearest bunk; Vila considered whether to disturb him or if it would be better to take the unoccupied bunk. He perched on the edge to remove his boots; Avon rolled over towards him.

"Vila?" A whisper- Avon actually sounded anxious.

"I’m here. You want me to sleep with you?" He felt a hand gripping his so he undressed and slipped under the covers. Avon pulled him close.

"It’s ok- I’m not going anywhere." Vila put his arms around Avon, trying to reassure him. Avon pressed up against him and nuzzled into his neck. Vila stroked Avon’s hair.

"You can do what you want with me." The tone was all wrong- resigned, rather than teasing. Vila pulled away slightly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"We’re not playing one of your games now are we? You need to get well before we think about anything else." And you’d only hate me for it later, wouldn’t you, my love... Did I just think that? Don’t go complicating it, Vila.

"Just go back to sleep. I’ll stay with you till me watch." Vila felt powerless to help but he kneaded at a knot of muscle and Avon slowly relaxed into an uneasy sleep.

Marianne

"Status, Virginia."

*Proceeding on programmed course, no vessels detected on long-range scans, no incoming communications.*

"Keep Vila informed of any changes, I’m going to get some sleep." In a bunk rather than at my console for once. Marianne slipped silently into the sleeping accommodation; paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness then reached out and gently shook Vila’s shoulder.

"Wha-?"

"Your watch." Marianne said it as a statement of fact rather than an order.

"Uh huh."

Marianne returned to the flight deck and waited for Vila to join her.

"You look worried. How’s Avon?" she asked as he stepped onto the flight deck.

"Not good- he’s functioning on some levels but not others- an’ it’s not just ’cos of all the drugs they’ve had him on. I’ve always been able to get him over stuff before, but this time I don’t know. Maybe it’s his way of trying to make sense of it all but I’m scared. Scared that I won’t get the old Avon back; scared that I will; scared of what the old Avon will think of me now I’ve seen him at his most vulnerable. Damn it, he’s supposed to chuck a couple of insults at me or sink his teeth somewhere painful before rolling over and expecting me to shag him senseless. And I’m too bloody stressed anyway." Marianne moved behind him and put her arms round his waist.

"An’ you can leave off an’ all. For one thing if I’m not in the mood for him I’m definitely not in the mood for you. An’ for another you’re too bloody tall." She let go and stepped back slightly.

"Sorry, I wasn’t trying..." You’re far too twitchy for a start.

"No, I’m sorry. There’s honestly nothing wrong with you- I just needed to let off steam. What did I do to deserve a boyfriend who collects psychoses the way- did I just say boyfriend? Forget I ever mentioned it."

"Forget what?" My sanity? My self-preservation skills?

"Nothin’. You go get some rest, I’ll be fine."

"If it’s any consolation I think you’re doing a lot better than most guys would under the circumstances." She shut the door of the sleeping accommodation between them and leaned back against it.

The one and only time I decide to pick up hitchhikers and I land myself with these two... I don’t know what possessed me letting the pair of them on my ship... S’pose they’re quite sweet as lunatics go but I’m allegedly a lot more rational than this... Given Vila a lot of responsibility- hope I’m right about him...

Avon seemed to be asleep so she lay down on the other bunk without undressing and thought of oxen grazing on the pastures back home.

Vila

By the time they reached the Sappho’s final outward stop, he and Marianne were working as a team. She had spent her entire adult life in space and it showed far more so than with Tarrant, or even Jenna. All her prized possessions were either kept in her backpack or locked in a hotel wardrobe back at Astbury Base. She claimed to wear black to avoid problems with colour co-ordination; and said leather was so much more hardwearing than cotton or linen and much easier to obtain when three of her brothers farmed livestock.

Because she had been flying the same ship most of that time, she seemed to operate all the systems instinctively. The one time they were menaced by a pirate vessel she got off a shot across its bows before realising she could leave that sort of thing to Vila and concentrate on getting them away. That was another good thing about Marianne: she was prepared to fight if she had to but she saw the sense in running away stylishly whenever possible.

"Well," she had said, when he mentioned it, "I still owe money from the repairs I needed after the last fight I got into. I’d prefer to have some spare cash left when I’ve paid the SCorps’ loan back."

Best of all she never went around making unreasonable demands on a person; if six hours sleep on the offwatch had not been enough, she saw no reason why one of them shouldn’t grab a quick catnap on the flight deck while the other attended to matters at hand.

Virginia was the most interesting computer Vila had encountered since Gambit. She never looked down on him nor said ‘sorry’ all the time, and her repertoire of card games was certainly impressive. He was still waiting for Avon’s reaction to the personality programming, as his erstwhile leader was staying off the flight deck and not talking much to anyone. Sure, he would answer Marianne’s technical questions when she went into the cabin; he listened to Vila’s monologues about what had been happening on the ship; he picked at the rations they took in to him; but it was harder than Vila had anticipated to return him to normality.

Normality, now there’s a concept. Which version of normality do I want? One in which me an’ Avon get to live a life of luxury without the authorities botherin’ us? Never managed that yet but maybe now there’s no chance of us getting mixed up wi’ fightin’... Then there’s Marianne: don’t suppose she’s the sort to stick around a place for long but she’s never mentioned havin’ anyone special back home. Even if she did, her lot seem quite happy to have more than one Primary- that’s what they call it there, isn’t it? Nah, Avon’d never agree to that- but he prob’ly won’t be stickin’ around anyway... I was never more than someone convenient who’d play his games; an’ why am I worryin’ what he thinks anyway?

"Ok, Vila, I need your full attention now. We’re landing in fifteen minutes and you may as well take co-pilot duty."

"No problem, Marianne, d’you need help movin’ cargo as well?"

"Don’t worry, you may as well keep out of the way. You haven’t been ‘dead’ long enough to go completely unrecognised and we don’t want people asking awkward questions, do we?"

"Well if you’re insistin’ I stay put..." Definitely my sort of captain.

Marianne

Strange having a crew again. Well, definitely more ‘passengers who know how to make themselves useful’ as Vila put it, but even so. Don’t think I’ll be picking up any more strays in the near future. She fastened the airlock behind her and headed into the shopping area of the spaceport to stretch her legs before starting the homeward run. Couldn’t have abandoned either of them though and they’ll fit in better at Base than they would most places. Might have to explain a few things to Vila sometime soon, before he gets any more ideas about me. Wonder if I should tell Avon about- no, he’s not up to dealing with anything that doesn’t have circuits just yet; anyway I always told myself I wouldn’t dwell on that. Ok, shops, here I come.

She needed to get a new winter coat some time soon but there was nothing here that took her fancy. She automatically picked out new clothes for the boys (after being brought up by five older brothers she was used to it) then found fresh food to take back as a change from ship’s rations.

On the Sappho she found Avon and Vila playing chess in the cabin, which presumably meant they had managed some degree of two-way communication.

"Hi, guys. How about we eat before heading out of here?" Figuring that it was expecting a bit much to try and get Avon onto the flight deck, she pulled a couple of crates off the third bunk and started arranging the trays of stir-fry on them.

On to Chapter Four

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