Quill: *listen to wind whistling thru the trees* Geeze, it's quiet here, isn't it randi?
randi: It certainly is. Wonder where they've all gone.
Quill: *shrugs* Dunno ... do you think we should try and scare 'em out?
randi: *Scare* them? Wouldn't that just drive them further into hiding? (Well, considering the *last* thing we wrote together . . .)
Quill: *slaps forehead* Dammit ... you're right! Hey, how about a sweet fic, instead?
randi: *grin* Sounds good!
Quill: Ok! *assumes announcers voice* Now, for your reading pleasure, the randi & Quill Production House are proud to present ..............
randi: A Shannon/Lance story!
Vying list: WHO??
This story would never have come about if not for the way that randi went about finding her brother's birthday gift. While surfing, she came across WEP’s store, and discovered that there were episodes of Vehicle Voltron for sale. Whoooeee!she thought. My brother would like that! He hasn't seen VV in ages!
With the bonus, of course, that she could borrow them and watch. *Grin*
But the tapes really were for her brother, considering that the pair of them watched Voltron religiously every day while it was on the local Fox station. And that’s RELIGIOUSLY, folks. An hour of Voltron was not enough.
In any case, randi borrowed the tapes from her brother with the intent of re-awakening the VV yaoi bug, which had unfortunately petered out after one lone story. However, instead of concentrating on Jeff and Cliff, as she had thought to do, someone else wormed his way into her mind, someone with short dark hair, a hot temper and an utterly delicious Irish accent- Shannon, from the Sea Team.
Of course, randi mentioned this lovely boy to Quill, and that she wanted to include him in a story. Then she bugged and pestered Quill until Quill said, "Well, if it'll get you out of my hair, I'll do it. Lance sounds like a great choice . . ." And the rest, as they say, was written in about four hours one Sunday morning. (Or if you’re Quill, the very, *very* early hours of a Monday morning! ^_~ )
So, the point of this rambling piece of verbiage was to let anyone know, who may have forgotten (a rare person indeed, here, I’ll warrant!), just who Shannon is, and just how he came to be half of the focus of the below story.
PS If anyone’s wondering what *I* (Quill) had to do with this … heh! randi dear took me on a wander down memory lane … how could a mortal like me resist?! *grins*
Disclaimers: Thank God WEP don’t know what we do with these guys, right? *grin* Well, all know randi & I don’t actually own them, don’t we? We only mess with their minds a bit.
Warnings: It’s Sappy, It’s Fluffy, It’s ever so slightly Angsty (slightly??! Sheesh!) … oh yeah … it features delish bish. Do you need anything else?
Notes: There’s a follow up fic in the works for this, so if you don’t want to see it … *grins* … you’d better say so!
C&C’s very welcome. Ooooh … This is our first real fic together! *yay!!!*
What I’ll Miss
"I’ll miss you . . ."
The softly whispered words made Shannon stir, and he glanced down. Lance lay quietly in his arms, face buried in his chest, one hand tracing a light, tickling pattern over the flesh of his side. At his movement, Lance’s hand stopped, and just rested on his hip, though he did not look up.
Letting his accent lilt a bit more than usual, because he knew how Lance loved it, he asked, "Oh, you will, will you?" He could feel the other shiver at the sound of his voice, and stroked his shoulder.
Lance nodded against his chest. "Yeah . . ."
"Are you sure, now? Will you miss me . . . or will you just miss this?" He boldly caressed Lance’s back, from shoulder to buttock, and felt the younger boy shudder again.
In a bit of a pique at how well Shan could read him, Lance shrugged nonchalantly, his face remaining diverted to the other boy's chest. "This I could get anywhere," he stated casually, then locked his gaze with Shan's blue-green eyes. "It's you I'll miss."
"And why is that?" Shannon asked. He thought he knew the answer, but Lance would often surprise him by coming out with something completely unexpected. He didn’t realize the reaction his question would provoke.
Lance's temper flared, feeling as though his lover was toying with him. "Well, if I have to tell you that, then what the hell have I been doing here all this time?" he snapped.
Shannon flopped onto his back with a sigh. He hadn't wanted to get into this tonight. It was all too easy for them to argue; they were both quite hot-tempered.
He also hadn't wanted to deal with the tangled knot his feelings for Lance had become. It looked like it would be painful to unravel. But rather than saying that, he said quietly, "I thought we were having a good time. Didn't you?"
Instantly feeling the sharp pang delivered by Shannon's abrupt distancing, it was no wonder that the other man's subsequent words hit Lance like a piercing wound. Unable to quite contain his resentment, he too rolled away, turning his smooth, lightly-muscled back to Shan completely as he ground out bitterly, "So that's all I am? 'A good time.' Thanks for letting me know!"
Shannon let out another deep breath and covered his face with his hand. Well, this was going to be one hell of a send-off, he thought a little sourly. No sleep tonight. "I could say the same, you know," he said, trying to keep hold of his temper. "You made it very plain when we hooked up that there should be no strings attached."
"Yeah, well .. so did you," Lance replied. If Shannon could have seen the bright glimmers in Lance's tearing eyes, he might have gained an inkling of how bereft his lover felt at this moment, for Lance very rarely showed his emotions this way; he tended more towards sarcastic retorts and anger than to tears. Unfortunately, Shannon was lost in his own mental turmoil.
Shannon stared blindly at the darkened ceiling. He didn't want to hurt Lance, he really didn't. Lance didn't deserve the cold treatment he'd been given, that was for sure. But it was beyond "sorry" now. How can I extricate myself from this, he wondered, and still not hurt him?
Uncertain of how to proceed, he retreated instead into belligerence. "Then why the hell are you so upset with me?"
Lance's reply was little more than a snort. But, after a second, he found he couldn't leave it at just that. "I guess I just figured things had changed. Shows you how wrong I can be."
"What things? Look, I have no idea what you're talking about!" Not quite a lie, he thought. But really, sometimes, Lance, you're so . . . cryptic that I don't know what you mean unless you come out and say it. And this would be one of those times. "Please, just tell me . . ."
Lance's lips tightened. With a flurry of tangled sheets, he rolled quickly to sit up and glare at the Irish boy next to him. "You know damned well what I'm talking about, Shannon. Only, I'm not sure you want to hear it, so why don't we just drop it altogether? Unless you've got something to say?" His pale blue eyes as hard as ice chips, he leant against the headboard, crossed his arms and waited.
Shannon sat up as well, running a hand through his hair. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me tell you that I hope you'll find some other boy, that this was just a fling, that I'll forget about you almost as soon as I leave the spaceport? Do you want me to tell you that I fell madly in love with you somewhere along the way? Do you even know which would be the lie?"
All of Lance's aggression suddenly drained from his body, leaving him physically weary and emotionally drawn. Even as his mind gnawed at what to say, some other part noted every beautiful detail of the young man with whom he had shared his body, his joys, his disappointments for the better part of the past year.
The faint moonlight from the window made Shan's already pale skin seem even whiter, like milk. His midnight hair was lost in the darkness, and those entrancing blue-green eyes watched him . . . a bit warily. Lance's eyes trailed down to the sleekly-defined muscles of his chest and abdomen; he knew every ridge by touch. The long legs tented the sheet; Shan sat with his knees drawn up, the sheet covering him to his waist.
He let out a sigh, dragging a hand through his own chestnut hair. It hurt, the knowledge that his lover was going to leave; being just that one year older, one class higher than Lance, Shannon's eventual departure had always been inevitable.
The understanding of this had always been there, but Lance had never truly faced it. Until now: what was to be their last night together, perhaps forever. Shannon had received his orders just that day and was to be shipping out on the Explorer the very next morning.
And Lance was being a heel about it.
With another long, ragged sigh, he finally admitted to himself what he wanted to hear. And he didn't think it was what Shannon was expecting.
"What do I want you to say, Shan?" Shannon was startled to see the glistening drops gathering on Lance's lashes. "Just the truth. I don't care what it is, as long as it's the truth. Maybe I'll be able to let you go, then. Do you think you can give me that much?"
"H-Hey . . ." Shannon reached out a hand to touch Lance's cheek, then hesitated, unsure of his welcome. He'd never seen his lover so distraught. Guilt overwhelmed him when he thought about the cause of it . . . that he was the cause of it.
I don't want to leave, he thought at Lance, hoping the other would hear. I don't want to leave you, not like this.
Apparently, he’d have to unravel that knot after all . . .
He lowered his hand. "The truth," he stated flatly, and closed his eyes. "The truth is . . . I won't forget you as soon as I leave. I doubt I'll ever forget you. I don't want you to find anyone new, though I know you will. You need affection like you need air to breathe. I don't want to say this was a fling . . . because that would be the lie."
He opened his eyes again and stared down at his knees, then wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on their peak. "But . . . I can't say that I've fallen madly in love with you, either. I don't know how I feel. I care about you, very much. Sometimes, I care so much it hurts. I just . . . I just don't know." He took a deep unsteady breath. “But that’s the truth.”
Lance nodded sadly to himself as he watched Shannon hug his knees to his chest. Gently, long, tapered fingers reached out to stir silky black-blue ocks with a comforting touch, and Shannon turned his cheek to his knee to stare into Lance's sombre, intense eyes.
"It's enough," he heard Lance's husky voice whisper. He couldn't help but smile when sombre eyes started to twinkle a little with wry humour, and Lance's agile lips tilted slightly. "At least I can't say you weren't honest."
Not sure what else there was to say, Shannon added softly, “I will miss you, though, not just ... well …” He gestured helplessly, including them both and the rumpled bed.
His words failing him, he reached out to touch Lance's face, his fingers just brushing the other's cheek. Lance held Shannon's gaze for a moment, then had to shut his eyes against a fresh rush of tears. It wasn't quite what he had wanted to hear, but he would never again have to wonder if what they had shared had been special; it was.
Slowly, his forehead dipped towards Shannon's shoulder, coming to rest there as Lance slipped an arm behind the other's waist. For a long moment, they just ... were.
The moonlight continued to stream through the window as Shannon moved to return Lance's soft embrace. Carefully, each held the other close, as though one of them might fade away on the shimmering light.
Then Lance's soft voice whispered delicately in Shannon's ear. "I don't know if I'm in love with you, either, Shan ... but I honestly, really do love you. You've got to believe that."
Shannon tried to reply, but his voice caught in his throat. He nodded, and managed, “I do believe it.”
Then, slowly Lance drew back and cupped Shannon's face in his hands. Soft, loving lips teased the dark-haired boy's, enticing him into a sweet, longing kiss.
When Lance drew away once more, he smiled into Shannon’s tender eyes. "Then that's what I'll miss," he murmured.
~ owari ~