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DISCLAIMER: They don’t belong to me. I’m just borrowing them and I promise to return them relatively unscathed.
SUMMARY: Dusan and Harry talk.
RATING: PG at most.
SPOILERS: None, really.
ARCHIVE: My sites: ...Mightier Than the Sword and Romantic Intentions, otherwise ask first.
1) This was inspired by the episode ‘A Place In The Sun.’
2) I was never very fond of the idea of Dusan and Paula together anyway.
FEEDBACK: Pretty please. This is my first, and at the moment only, Space Island One fic.
Dusan Kashkavian walked the corridors of Unity with a slow yet determined stride. As he walked, he was thinking some very serious thoughts, but these thoughts weren't about computers or dockings or anything to do with his work on the avionics deck. They were thoughts of a more personal nature. Thoughts of love, lust and women. In particular one specific woman. His steps became even slower as he reached a corridor containing a number of living quarters until he finally came to a stop before one door. He looked at the name on the door and softly traced the letters still trying to decide what he should do and just what exactly it was he was feeling.
With a jerk Dusan pulled his hand away from the familiar name. Now was not the time to talk to her he decided and started to move toward his own quarters. A strange sound caught his attention. He looked back at the door in shock. It sounded like someone was crying.
"She never cries," he murmured and before he could stop himself he knocked on the door he'd just spent long minutes staring at.
There was a long pause before he heard the room's lone occupant ask, "Who is it?"
"It's Dusan. May I come in?"
As she stared at the picture of her young daughter, Harry could feel sadness creep up on her. Normally she could fight the feeling off, her work and the presence of others holding the tears at bay. But right now she was alone in her quarters, unlikely to be disturbed until morning, lonely and missing her daughter. Like a sudden flood the tears began to fall, and despite her best efforts, a few sobs escaped to echo softly in the small room.
"Go away, Dusan. I don't feel like talking to anyone at the moment," Harry replied to his question.
Dusan hesitated for a moment staring at the door in indecision. A brief flicker, there and gone, of worry crossed his face. Finally, with a complete disregard for personal privacy, he opened the door and went in closing the door gently behind him. He took one look at the face of the woman sitting on the bed then crossed the small space and knelt on the floor in front of her.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked softly reaching forward and gently removing a picture from her hand. He looked at the picture to find Harry's young daughter Miranda staring back at him. With care he placed the photo on a nearby shelf.
"Go away, Dusan," Harry growled at him. "I just want to be left alone."
"I'm not leaving, Harriet Eschenbach, until you tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."
"There's nothing you can do," Harry replied after searching his face for a few moments. "I'm just feeling lonely and I miss my daughter. I'll be fine tomorrow." At his skeptical look she continued, "I promise. Now scoot, you've got better things to do than listen to me cry."
"You're right," Dusan answered standing up. "I'm going to listen to you tell me why you're lonely." He moved and sat down on the bed so that he was sitting right beside Harry. "I can understand missing Miranda. She's your daughter and you haven't seen her for awhile. I can't really understand the loneliness part. I know there aren't a lot of us up here but none of us would mind sitting up with you till you're not so lonely. Kathryn, Kaveh, even myself."
"I know that, Dusan," Harry said as she turned her body on the bed so she could face him. "It's just that... I miss crowds and traffic. There never seems to be enough noise up here. Oh, stop smiling you!"
But Dusan couldn't stop smiling; it was such a familiar complaint. Soon Harry was smiling back.
"All right, all right, so you've heard me say that before," Harry said with a little laugh.
"Frequently," Dusan murmured earning him a mock glare.
"You know what I think I'd do if I was suddenly transported back to earth right now?" she asked.
"I'd take Miranda to the beach and spend the day there with her, then I'd return home where my mother would be waiting to baby-sit. After it got dark I'd go out, grab the best looking guy I could find and head back to the beach with him and have some fun in the sand, if you know what I mean." Harry grinned wickedly at him.
Dusan smiled back and asked huskily, "Just any guy?"
Slowly, softly, she replied, "I'd prefer it if it was you."
"So would I," he said and leaned forward and gently kissed her. Reluctantly, unsure of Harry's reaction, he pulled away to look at the woman in front of him. The soft smile she gave him told him all he needed to know.
Sighing softly with pleasure, he pulled Harry into his arms and spent the rest of the night showing her how much he’d prefer to be the man on the beach with her.