Эээ... те три человека, которые теоретически могут это прочитать... не ржите сильно, ладно? Мой первый фик и всё такое
И с английским у меня не совсем фонтан)))
В общем, Блейки, ПГП-аушка, а мне бы лучше рисовать, чем писать, но я не удержалась)))
читать дальшеIt was good to shower finally, shave and change into the clean clothes, luxury he took from himself almost a year ago. It was also good to feel low vibration of the ship's deck under his feet, familiar and relaxing noise that meant he and his crew were safe and able to go wherever they wanted, to do whatever they wanted. And most of all, it was good to know, that all of his people survived Gauda Prime, for now they could start all over again, with new forces and new hope. Well. That still left Avon and his kids, and even if they seemed to be cooperative, Blake knew how stubborn and cynical Avon was, and whoever found acceptable to follow him could be no better.
He wandered through the ship, bumping into his crew here and there, all of them looking celebratory and congratulating him on their successful escape. Blake smiled at them, but felt more determined than really happy, because it was just the last pit stop before the war, not a win. On the flight deck he watched Tarrant and Deva repairing the main computer, not seeing him, deep into their techno magic. He expected to find Avon there too, snapping at their handicapped attempt to work, but he seemed to be elsewhere.
''Have you seen Avon, by any chance?'' He finally asked them. Tarrant promptly turned over, still visibly uneasy about sharing the ship with so many intruders.
''He must be at his cabin, repairing Orac. He kindly allowed us to deal with the simplest damage.'' Snarly, but not unkind. Blake grinned faintly at Deva's pursed lips, and left the flight deck. Avon's crew was used to his charming personality by now, but his own crew wasn't – he expected a lot of pulled faces and private questions about Avon's reliability. Funny thing was, he still trusted Avon completely, without a doubt, and he did, he did find him and came after him, and was appalled to imagine that Blake could betray him. Still, Avon always had a habit of rescuing him in the last possible moment, and Blake was unsure, what he putted more into it, his vanity or his loyalty. With that thought he approached Avon's cabin, and after brief hesitation, knocked. He wasn't prepared to speak to him, though he knew he couldn't delay it no longer. There was outstretched silence, then the door opened, no surprise on Avon's face at his sight.
''I was hiding, you know.'' Avon informed him, then moved out of his way. Blake entered the cabin, leaning at the closed door. Avon's room was as ascetic, as it was on the Liberator, his bed untouched, and the table full of wires and other computer equipment. Somewhere underneath it Blake could see a holder of a gun.
''So was I but we had to talk sooner or later.''
Avon smiled to himself, a new smile Blake never saw before – bitter and sad, making him wonder, what happened to make it creep on Avon's lips. ''There isn't much to talk about. You can have the ship, the command, my crew if they are willing to follow, and I'm back to being cynical computer expert by your shoulder. I think it must be agreeable to you.''
Blake stared at him, nonplussed. ''And that's all? No demands of shared leadership, no terms, no offers of free advising on the all strategical decisions?''
Avon smiled again, brightly and predatory, another unfamiliar smile of an absolute self-confidence and aggressive power. Blake felt uncomfortable.
''Oh, don't worry, you were receiving my free advises before you ran away, you'll be receiving them now. As for leadership, I don't want it and I never wanted it, my only goal was enjoying my freedom in solitude. I still hope I will be able to do so after the war is over, so it's in my best interests to be cooperative.'' His voice also changed, Blake noted absent-mindedly, it was softer and lower, more pleasant. He shook his head, staring at the Avon's back, who leaned over the table, poking something inside of Orac. Avon hadn't lost his ability to distract him not a bit.
''I didn't run away.''
''And what did you do, then? Decided to play hide and seek?'' Avon suddenly turned to face him, radiating anger, lips curving in disgust. ''Don't give me this bullshit about gathering people and searching for the base, lack of resources and alliances had never stopped you before. You ran, like a coward – you could at least let me know, where the fuck were you, instead of making me think for two years that you might be dead!''
Blake gaped at him in astonishment. He wasn't expecting this outburst, perhaps the most vivid demonstration of emotions Avon ever revealed to him.
''Well, Avon, last time I saw you, you couldn't wait to get rid of me! I though it would be better to both of us, if we continue our paths separately. Besides, I didn't want to receive a mocking laugh as an answer to the offer of joining me.''
''Like my wishes and my mockery ever stopped you from ordering me around.'' Avon visibly forced himself to calm down, turning away again. His tired set of shoulders made Blake feel guilty and ungrateful, but he honestly never expected Avon to be so eager to find him.
''I'm sorry I left, Avon. I was hoping you'll come, but giving our past disagreements you can't accuse that I wasn't sure.''
''And what happened to your trust in me?'' Blake could hear sarcastic smile in Avon's voice, heavy with bitterness.
''Nothing happened to my trust in you, Avon, but as I hope, you recall, I was never forcing you to stay with me and fight. I was merely giving you a chance to live as you like.''
Avon snorted silently and turned around at last, looking even more exhausted and sleep depraved than he was before the conversation. Blake felt a pang of guilt again.
''Live as I like.'' He muttered to himself with a faint smile. ''Are we done with talking? I still have Orac to repair.''
''I'm going to lay a course to penal colony Resignation, I have a few useful contacts there. Is that fine to you?''
''I already said, Blake, it's your command. As long as you aren't doing something outragingly stupid, I have no objections.''
Resignation indeed, Blake thought with a wry smile. ''Well, as long as everything is sorted out, I shall leave you to your repairs.''
''Please do.''
Blake gave him the last glance, and did as he was asked. Conversations with Avon always affected him like a glass of adrenaline and soma, but this one also left him confused and with the pounding head. There remained a lot of unrevealed confessions and accusations on the both sides, and neither of them was ready to talk about it. Maybe they will never be ready, especially giving that all their discussions promptly turned into fights and threats to go different roads. Maybe their whole approach to the problem was wrong, and what they really had to do was fuck, as Vila once helpfully suggested. Blake snorted to himself. He'd have to get Avon shitless drunk and tie him up first. Well now. That was an interesting thought! Blake snorted again, more cheerfully this time, and stepped to the flight deck, giving orders and enjoying a busy noise of a ship full of people.
''A glass of wine?'' Vila appeared at his left offering him a plastic cup with a smirk.
''You're reading my mind, Vila! Thank you.''
''From my own collection.'' He pointed at the Blake's cup with his own, then frowned. ''Pity it's the last bottle.''
''Oh, cut it, Vila, being sober won't hurt you.'' Dayna said from her seat, with an eyeroll.
''How would you know?''
''Being sober means that he'd have to work, which does hurt him alright.'' Blake spun around to see Avon, leaning on the doorframe and looking highly superior.
''I thought you had Orac to repair.'' Blake said with a smile.
Avon squinted at him. ''And miss all the opportunities to insult this crowd of half-wits gathered in here?'' He gestured around and then turned to Blake with a bright smile. ''You in particular, Blake, have never failed to offer a good example of laughable idiocy.''
''It's nice to know I have some uses to you, Avon.''
They eyed each other for a moment, then, for everyone's bewilderment, laughed openly, tension between them easying away. He forgot Avon could laugh so sincerely, he forgot he himself could.
It felt like returning home.
21.09.2009 в 19:00
Очень здорово. Правильно и в характере.
Я тут уже три раза прочитала.
21.09.2009 в 19:08
Но мне надо было избавиться от этой сцены, а то совсем клинит)))
*перечитала сама, ужаснулась своему английскому*
21.09.2009 в 19:13
Мне действительно очень понравилось.
Я вообще в аське уже какой день ем мозги невинным людям. Не могу успокоиться.
А я английского не знаю вовсе. Так что не мне судить.
21.09.2009 в 19:31
Ну смотри, вот начну помимо арта фики писать!
Я поела людям, была мягко послана в пампасы
Ага, а фики с промптом переводишь? =)
21.09.2009 в 19:44
Пиши!
Я пытаюсь уговорить на просмотр!
Меня тоже скоро все посылать уже будут.
Я все пытаюсь-пытаюсь прийти в норму и никак.
Конечно!
Обожаю эту твою иконку!
21.09.2009 в 19:59
Если меня ещё раз переклинит, повешу фик по Доктору =)
Я уговаривала одну британку, она сказала, что это parent-tv, и у неё моментально пропадает всё желание приобщаться к таким реликтам асексуальным =) Прямо стукнуть их всех хочется)))
Ну ты монстр!
Я тоже!
21.09.2009 в 20:06
Ох. А меня так жутко переклинило. И почему меня такое не останавливает.
Шучу я. Ненавижу людей, переводящих чего-то промтом. Некоторые считают, что это - нормально.
Я просто сама с большим трудом могу связать пару фраз на английском. Ну, вот не умею. Меня никогда этому не учили. Короче чувствую себя понятливой собакой. Понимать понимаю, а сказать не могу.
21.09.2009 в 20:24
Я с горя даже Мерлина посмотрела, чтоб отвлечься. Помогло весьма слабо
Да я понимаю, что шутишь, промпт таких результатов, как у тебя, не даёт))) Да и вообще, с ним же текст читать нереально совсем)
Я тоже связывала на уровне "меня зовут-я живу" пока не начала общаться с англоговорящим народом))) За год буквально от невнятного бормотания до вот этого фика. Стремиться ещё есть куда, конечно, но результат заметен)
21.09.2009 в 20:35
Ай, Мерлин.
Я тоже смотрю.
Еще СГА, Декстера (очень веселый ненапряжный сериал), Доктора, про зверушков и всякую короткую пургу.
Все равно я думаю про другое.
Я с таким безумным чувством скакала домой смотреть дальше Блейков - это ужос просто.
Как тут теперь успокоиться.
Ну, и здорово!
Мне тоже надо начинать связывать слова как-то.
22.09.2009 в 06:22
Ага, Декстера я тоже. Куча сериалов, в общем, но хочется пятого сезона Блейков))) Или амнезию и по новому кругу, раз уж на то пошло =)
22.09.2009 в 07:46