The Space Between Us (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 11

Tired, not having had much sleep, Waverly slipped out of her quarters making her way to their new, secret location. She had seen every deck of a pulse ship during training, the lowest deck her least favourite. Dimly lit, the heavy hum of machinery keeping the ship alive, that unmistakable tang in the air of refuse mixed with strong chemicals. Not the most pleasant of environments, but, on this occasion, she was more than happy to be visiting. Far enough removed from the main activities of the ship to be secluded, it would serve well as their new hideaway for however long required.

Training rooms were an afterthought. Most of the areas on board needed for the day-to-day running of a ship. Only cadets could be found wandering in their direction. Small, intimate, buried deep in the bowels of a ship, a place where cadets could spend time practising whatever their commander had in mind. Nicole had a lot of things on her mind she would like to 'practise' with Waverly. If anyone asked, they were reviewing strategic flight manoeuvres in combat conditions. A flimsy excuse. Farcical really, given how good a pilot Waverly was. But, needs must when your only thought is to 'practise' naked without prying eyes. Any questions from Rosita as to why she was wandering around the ship so early might be awkward. More so now Rosita was making eyes at her. She could handle it.

Waverly checked the first of the two training rooms. No Nicole. Nor in the second. She stood outside, wondering whether Nicole had had second thoughts, was asleep, or simply forgotten. She couldn't say. This was all new to her. Nicole was new to her. They were at an early stage in their relationship. Each recognising there was something between them, each knowing they wanted that something to continue, each needing to learn how the other operated.

Where was Nicole?

The elevator door opened, Nicole rushed out, grabbing Waverly's hand, dragging her into the second room. No time for communication. No time other than to get on with the business of 'practising' their manoeuvres on each other. She closed the door behind her, making sure it was locked.

"I've a meeting with Doc in T-20."

"And, hello to you."

"What? Can we get on with it."

Waverly stopped. Muscles tensing, eyes narrowing, jaw tightening, absorbing Nicole's words. Any passion, any excitement about any practising they were about to do had just been rudely stripped out of the erotic equation. The way Nicole had spoken reduced her to a slab of synthetic protein, available any time, hot or, in this instance, cold. Waverly knew if she didn't make a stand right there, right now, she would end up feeling even more hurt than she already did.

"I think that's a no."

"What?"

"I'll catch you later."

The look Waverly gave Nicole told her she was definitely, categorically, unequivocally no longer available for practise.

Nicole watched open-mouthed as Waverly unlocked the door. Throwing herself on the nearest chair, she sat for a moment in shock. Their first falling out. She had screwed up. Really, really screwed up. Thoughtless. Her treatment of Waverly unintentional. A miscommunication. A misunderstanding. Something said the wrong way, taken the wrong way.

Her mind had been focused on the meeting with Doc. A crucial meeting. One where they were to draft their considerations for the battle with Svane. So much at stake. So many lives could be lost if they were wrong in their assumptions.

It had weighed on her all night. Her solace, knowing she would be with Waverly in a few hours. She hoped their brief liaison would release the stress she was feeling right now. Utterly, utterly wrong. On every level possible. Especially the lowest level, where they would have indulged each other. She now faced the prospect of not being able to caress her lover. Her insular thinking, her inability to recognise there were two in this relationship laid bare. The consequences of what she had done hitting her in nauseating waves. She wanted to throw up.