Revelations. Part 5

"I thought you'd like them," Jonas said, yanking gently on my hand, as was his way, to make me move on. "The desert is so drab, and you're used to the city, I figured flowers would make a difference."

"Good thinking," I said, though I knew he didn't really think the desert was anywhere near drab... and neither did I.

"You know," he began quietly, "if I could, I'd have some nice flowers delivered here for you. So you'd have something pretty in your room for a few days."

I grinned up at him. His golden eyes glowed down at me, and I said, "I don't think I could ever see anything more beautiful than your eyes."

"Stop or you'll make me blush." He tightened his grip on my hand, and for the first time I noticed he'd filed down all his fingernails. That made me squeeze his hand even more.

"I don't think you can blush," I said.

"Never know," he said.

I only continued to smile.

"You know," he said, "I'd kiss you, but I don't think you're ready for that yet."

I unpuckered my lips, metaphorically, of course. "How do you know?" I said, tilting my chin up.

"I just know," he said. His hand reached out and his forefinger traced the line of my jaw and stopped below my earlobe. "Well, you're certainly more beautiful than any of these flowers. Wanna see some more?"

I nodded, his words ringing heavily and sweetly in my ear. His hand drifted away from my face, and he dragged me along to see more flowers and more creatures, all of which he knew by name, both English and Latin.

A week later, Jonas kissed me for the first time. It was late at night, and we sat on the ridge overlooking the Commune. We were looking out at the desert lying far behind the reach of our eyes. The stars were abundant and the moon full; that's why we were out there. There was going to be a meteor shower we knew we could not miss.

As the stars flew by overhead- and I know that they aren't stars but they certainly look like stars- Jonas scooted just a little bit closer to me.

Something popped into my mind as I leaned back on my elbows, and I have no idea where the thought even came from. "Did you know I can't have children?" I said absently.

"What?" Jonas said.

"I can't have kids," I repeated. "The doctor with me when I woke from my coma told me."

"b.u.mmer," Jonas said.

I smiled.

"Why are you telling me this, anyway?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"I don't care, you know," he said. Until that moment, his eyes had been on the skies above. Now he turned his amber gaze to me.

I looked at him and lifted one corner of my mouth in a minor smile, something I picked up from hanging around Starch. "You don't?" I said after a moment.

He shook his head. His stunningly beautiful eyes glowed in the moonlight. "Who would want to have my kids, anyway?" he asked. "A couple of scaled little lizards running around...." He trailed off, his eyes once again moving skyward.

The words fell from my mouth before I even knew they formed in my mind. "I would," I said.

Jonas looked back at me in surprise, an eyebrow ridge lifted. "Really?"

I nodded, shrugging my shoulders, as was typical of myself. Then I gave him my best smile, the one I reserved just for him.

He then leaned over and kissed me. I swayed a bit under the effect, feeling a chill rush up and down my spine. Now, I've been kissed before, and by many more men than I'd like to talk about. I was a wild child. When Jonas kissed me, it was like all the other moments in my life washed away and disappeared down a storm drain. I mean all the other moments in my life. My eyes wanted to roll back into my head, and my skin felt like it was sliding off my body. It was euphoric. I'll never forget it.

We stayed up there until the meteor shower ended, his arm around my shoulder and my head against his chest. He never let a day go by without giving me the greatest of kisses. Yes, I loved him, but I still couldn't bring myself to tell him. People I love have a tendency to disappear...or die.

Chapter Eleven.

I told Jonas everything I could bring myself to tell about my early life. I spoke to him about my mother. I told him about my father, what little I knew. He believed me when I said I wasn't alone in the car when it crashed. He even got in the habit of saying, "Accident, my a.s.s," whenever the subject came up. I didn't go into much detail about my life in the orphanage. I left out Holt and the reasons my father and I were chased. I didn't tell him how I'd found my father dying in a hospital room. n.o.body knew about that, not even Philip or the good Doctor, Michael Daniels. I kept that as my own little secret.

He knew about the headaches, which I was pretty good at hiding, but he only knew because hiding anything more from him was something I wouldn't do. I hadn't had a really bad one in a couple of weeks when suddenly I felt one coming on. Jonas and I were sitting outside. It was dusk, and he just finished up work on the same white pickup I'd seen him working on the day I met him. He still hadn't gotten the old truck running.

I sat in a plastic chair, one leg hooked over a chair arm. This was a couple months after walking through the desert with him, after the day I realized that I was madly in love with him but hadn't gotten up the courage to tell him. It had been slowly climbing all day, the headache. It hit dizzying heights just as the sun set. Except I wasn't about to get up and leave Jonas alone and out of my sight. He was my favorite thing to look at. Even with my eyes closed, I could still see him. With my eyes closed, I can still pretty much see anything as long as there's someone else's mind around to pry into.

He finished up his work and pulled out the red rag from his back pocket and wiped the grease off his hands. He always worked until the sun set, when he could see no more. He was highly determined to get the truck working, and he'd work his a.s.s off until he did. Alas, today was not that day.

"Hey," he called out to me.

I opened my eyes and caught his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked. He came over to me and knelt before the chair, his hands moving to rest on my knee.

I nodded, not ready to admit how bad I felt.

Jonas saw right through me. "Headache, eh?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, darlin'. Let's go inside."

"But it's so pretty out here," I said. "The stars will be out soon."

"d.a.m.n the stars," he said as he got to his feet. "You're more beautiful than any star." He held out a hand to me, but I didn't take it. Since I didn't take his hand, he scooped me up into his arms.

As I hung on for dear life, I said, "What are you doing?"

"Playing soccer," he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes and slung my arms around his neck. "Just don't drop me, okay?"

He mock stumbled and laughed in my ear. "I'd never drop you," he told me.

"Good, *cause I'll kick your a.s.s if you do," I told him.

"I don't doubt that."

Jonas took me inside and tossed me gently onto the couch where the rest of what I now considered my family was watching TV. Starch controlled the remote which meant The X Files was on if he could find it playing. Patty stretched out on the loveseat portion of the big sofa and her head lay in Pete's lap. Pete appeared to be asleep, but his eyes opened briefly when Jonas deposited me in the only free corner of the couch. Humbolt and Hermione were still out in the shed, where they always were, since they had no real taste for television. Philip came in with a cup of tea and sat down on the floor.

"Ah, The X Files," said the head of our household. "Is there ever anything else on TV?"

"Nope," Starch said. "And never should be as far as I'm concerned."

"Mulder is hot," Patty said quietly, to which Pete kissed the top of her head. Looking up into his eyes, she added, "You're hotter."

I smiled over at Patty, and she winked back at me.

"Where's Cadence?" Philip asked.

"In her room, reading a book," Starch said. "She opted out of TV tonight."

"Good for her," Philip said. "We should all take a lesson from Cadence."

Jonas left my side to grab a beer from the fridge. He came back, snapped open the top with ease and sat down beside me. I put my head on his shoulder, and Starch gave me a look. My right eyebrow rose in response, but I said nothing. He only smiled.

Now Starch, one of my dearest friends, is quite the looker. Anyone would think I'd go for him instead of Jonas, but Jonas has a quality about him no one can match. Starch is tall, lean, and nicely built. He has wavy black hair, dark as ink. His eyes are his best feature by far, the color of the sky on a summer day; bright and brilliant blue, even bluer than Philip's, something I hadn't thought possible. There is a fire burning in Starch's eyes if you make him angry, which doesn't happen often, but at least that gives you a glimpse of what really hides behind those eyes. No one in our household ever saw Starch use his powers, and it would be a long time before I would get him to do it. He was worth every ounce of friendship I gave him, because he was something special. He was not Jonas. Jonas was his best friend, and Starch certainly didn't hold a grudge since Jonas got me first. Not that I knew if Starch harboured any desires towards me or not. I didn't look into his head to find out.

Anyway, I fell asleep this night before most of them, due to the pounding of my head. When I woke, the pounding diminished and almost everyone else had gone to bed. Pete and Patty were in their room, and though they each had their own room, they spent almost every night together, in one room or the other, doing what couples do. Humbolt and Hermione remained outside, probably probing some dead piece of road kill. Cadence was asleep in her room, as Philip slept soundly in his. Alendra had been the only one not in the room when Jonas brought me in, and I didn't question where she was. I could only guess. Jonas went to bed, not wanting to wake me while trying to move me. Starch was snoring on the couch. On the TV, a hot Fox Mulder was investigating G.o.ds knew what.

I got up and took the remote from Starch's hand and draped a blanket over him, keeping my friend asleep all the while. Another thing my mind is capable of doing is making people sleep. I turned off the lights, made sure the front door was locked, knowing the twins had their keys though it wasn't like anyone would be out here in the middle of the desert besides us to break into the house, but you never know, and turned off the porch light. A light glowed in the kitchen, and I followed it.

Hermione was there. I shook my dim head. I thought she was still outside, and she'd startled me. It was two o'clock in the morning after all.

"Hey," she said to me in her deep, musical voice. "You should be in bed."

"I should?" I said as I sat at the table.

The tea kettle on the stove whistled softly. Her reaction was to instantly remove it. "Want a cup?"

I shook my head and yawned. "No. You're right. I should be in bed."

"Jonas said you had a headache."

"Yeah," I said. "When did you talk to Jonas?"

"Just now," she said. "You know, you should try some of my teas. Herbal remedies."

"No, thanks," I said. I remembered how horribly I'd been affected by medicines back in Ohio. "Jonas's still up?"

"He was a few minutes ago," Hermione said. She smiled softly. "You two really hit it off, didn't you?"

I lifted an eyebrow in response. "Guess," I said.

"Did he say anything to you today?"

"'bout what?" I asked, stifling another yawn.

"He told me he wasn't feeling well."

My yawning ceased instantly. "He was fine earlier," I said slowly.

Hermione did something I usually do; she shrugged. "I told him I'd bring him some tea. Would you rather take it to him?"

"That's okay," I said. "I'm gonna head off to bed."

"Okay, dear," Hermione said. "Sleep well."

I said I would and retreated to my room, but sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. Jonas and sick didn't go together. He told me he'd not been sick since he was five years old when he lived in the desert. My mind began to whirl which meant it began to ache. Though only a dull ache, it managed to keep me awake for most of the night. When the sun began to rise, which I could see out my bedroom window, I felt an itch begin in my hands. I hadn't healed anything or anyone since healing myself in front of Christian. I hadn't even tried it out so I couldn't even be one hundred percent sure the powers in my hands survived the accident that wasn't, or accident my a.s.s, as Jonas liked to say. I lay in my bed, turned over on my side so I could look out the window, and I watched the skies. Once, during the night, I heard a long, low howl echoing across the desert plains. It didn't occur to me until much later that howl probably belonged to Alendra. My mind stuck so completely on Jonas.

Chapter Twelve.

The next morning found me still awake and somewhat cranky. A long, hot shower took care of my grumpiness, but I was tired and worried. So the first thing I did was go find Jonas. After getting dressed, that is. I found my man- for that's what he was- beneath the hood of his white truck. He was shirtless and cursing up a storm.

"Truck do something wrong?" I asked him as I came to stand beside him.

He looked up at me, and I saw a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with a streak of grease. "What?" he asked.

"I've never heard you curse so much," I said.

"Then you've never heard me talk," he growled.

"Somebody's in a bad mood," I said.

He just snarled back at me.

"Fine," I said, "I'll go back inside."

Jonas grabbed my arm. "Nope," was what he said as he swung me back towards himself. "Besides, I got this b.i.t.c.h started earlier but now she's being fussy and won't start again. I'm not going back inside until I get her working."

"I don't think you'll ever get her working," I said, thinking of something my father said about his Mustang. I looked around for my chair. "Hey, who took my chair?"

Jonas lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Let's sit in the truck. I'm due for a break, anyway."

"First," I said, grabbing the red rag from his back pocket. He stopped, and I reached up and took his chin in my hand. I drew him down to me and wiped the grease from his forehead. "Little dirty," I explained.