Author: Sam

Story: Say it With Music: 5 of ?

Series: n/a

Characters: Hank, Sheila, Others

Rating: PG-13: Minor sexual situations referred to

Summary: Sheila is always there for Hank...

Author’s Note: It has been some time since I updated due to severe health problems, a full time job, university, and my father’s recent death. I will try to update these teaser’s further as I find time. Please at least enjoy a hint of what is to come...

Song Note: All About Soul by Billy Joel.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

Stirring the embers with a charred stick, Hank let his tired mind wander slightly from the task at hand. He should have been watching for anything suspicious. Unfortunately, no matter how often he stood and quietly walked around, his body was screaming for sleep and his eyes tried to oblige. Thus, he was trying to keep his mind busy, instead, by thinking over the last quest the Children of Power had accomplished.

Accomplished might actually have been too strong a word. Yes, the team of seven had saved the world, routed the evil doers, but they hadn’t actually gotten through the portal they’d found. The various missions Dungeon Master gave them were often finished… but never quite as one might suspect or hope for. They never went home.

He was drifting off again.

The Ranger stood and stretched, trying to be extremely quiet so the other exhausted children, and their unicorn companion, could get their much-deserved sleep. Slowly, he picked his way around his comrades, making it to the edge of firelight. The youth relaxed and looked up at the starry expanse.

The last quest had only been one in a long line of assignments nearly gone wrong. They would be given a riddle, follow what they thought were the answers, and nearly fail due to missing some important piece of the mystery. The enemy would be alerted, the group would fight, and the portal destroyed as the team won their battles. It was disheartening… especially after the latest fiasco.

This time, it had not been Eric or Presto’s fault, which was the common problem. This time Hank had been to blame. If he had only listened to Bobby’s suggestions they might all be home tonight rather than in some cold field in the middle of the Realm. If he had listened, Sheila might not be hurt.

A sound from the direction of the campfire brought Hank whirling around bow at the ready. He relaxed when he realized that it was merely Sheila trying to find a more comfortable position for her injuries. The teenaged leader of the group moved towards the Thief, kneeling down and whispering, “Sheila? Do you need some more of Presto’s tea?”

“Ugh...” her gray eyes opened, focusing on the blond leaning over her. With a soft smile, she sighed, “It tastes horrible… but…” another sigh, “it works. Please?”

He nodded and slipped a steady arm behind her shoulders, easing her to a sitting position while reaching for the warm cup next to the embers. Hank could feel the weight of the slender girl pressed against his arm and chest; he closed his eyes trying to stop the sudden shaking that had come over him. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, the eighteen-year-old opened his eyes and had to draw another quick breath.

Sheila was looking directly up into his face. Her pale face held a beautiful smile, though she was lightly flushed. Reaching up with one delicate hand, the seventeen-year-old gently touched his tanned cheek, her fingers soft and fluttering, like a butterfly flitting in to land. There was some deep emotion in those gray eyes.

It drew Hank in. He was powerless to resist the natural tug of desire that flared up between them. Putting the cup back down, he tenderly drew one finger across her bruised jaw-line, turning her head just enough...

Their lips met in a brief, yet all-consuming kiss.

Pulling back, light blue eyes open wide in wonder, Hank stared down at Sheila, hardly daring to breath. He’d always liked her; his interest had deepened over their years in the Realm in fact, but she’d never indicated that she wanted anything more. Had she? The petite redhead had always greeted him warmly, moving to walk with him or lean on him. Had those smiles, those innocent seeming touches actually been her way of asking for more? And did he have the right?

“Sheila...”

“Oh, Hank, if you try to apologize, I’ll sick Bobby on you.” She winced and drew a shaky breath, a wave of pain once more coming over her. “And if you tell me that you don’t want to...” suddenly her face was suffused with an embarrassed flush, “uh... do that again... I’ll know you’re lying.” She touched his arm, hand shaking as much as the limb it rested on. “I... I love you, Hank.”

Shock coursed through the young man. He didn’t know how to react suddenly. For years, Hank had been the one to take charge, to lead this small group through life-or-death situations on a near-daily basis. He hadn’t allowed himself to get closer to one than any other, afraid he’d make mistakes if he let emotions overwhelm him.

And now?

Giving himself a little thinking time, Hank reached for the cup once more, bringing it carefully to Sheila’s lips and encouraging her to drink. He might put it off, but there was going to be no escaping from those beautiful eyes and the emotion in them. What should he do? Should he tell her the truth? Should he fall back on duty? Should he... should he...

Making up his mind, the youth nodded and took the cup from her lips. He leaned closer and gently, hesitantly, brushed another kiss across their softness. With a sigh, he let himself smile. “I… love you, too, Sheila.” Watching the joy in her eyes was worth it; he secretly hoped he hadn’t endangered her or the others by giving in. “Get some sleep.”

The young woman merely smiled and let her eyes close on a sigh. Hank carefully lowered her to the ground once more, pulling her cloak over her battered body. Things had changed; most surprising of all, Sheila had proved more mature than he’d ever though possible. He had a lot to think over before the dawn.

Hank was no longer sleepy.

If Hank thought his midnight rendezvous with Sheila would fracture their tiny group, he was wrong. In fact, things actually seemed more relaxed than ever before. Laughter was heard more and even Eric seemed less inclined to gripe at the world in general. Hank couldn’t know that his own worries had caused anxiety in the other teens; they had sensed something wrong and responded with uncertainty and surliness. The change between the leader and the injured Thief has seemed to do much to ease the tensions.

As they walked along, the group moved slowly in deference to Sheila’s injuries. Hank, however, was the one to fall back and walk next to her, rather than the other way around. Without complaint, Eric and Diana took the lead. For the first time during their years in the Realm, Hank felt like a part of the team, rather than the separated leader… he felt as if he could let go and let the others take on a bit more responsibility. After all, if Sheila had matured so much in the last years, the others would have, right?

It felt like only a matter of a couple of hours before they encountered Dungeon Master and his next riddle. Eric made his usual complaints, but not as enthusiastically against any suggestion Hank had as was his wont. Hank was pleasantly surprised by this unlooked-for side effect of admitting his heart. He offered a small smile to Sheila, which she returned happily.

It had happened again.

The Children of Power had misinterpreted one piece or another of Dungeon Master’s riddle. They salvaged part of the situation before it was too late, rescuing a group of priceless sentient felines, commonly known as Elven Cats or Felines, from being sold into slavery. However, the elder of the clan had not been able to help them get home, his *Moon*, an object of power, having been shattered in the battle.

Battered, bruised, and feeling defeated, the group had settled for the night in a copse of trees near the Feline clearing. Hank was building a fire, distracted by should-have’s and what-could-have’s. The others were gathering supplies, while Sheila was being tended by a young Feline with a gift for healing.

Hank didn’t hear the soft steps of the approaching Thief. He was unaware of her easing herself down next to him or even her gentle touch on his leather-clad arm. It wasn’t until he became aware of her soft voice that he realized he’d been lost so deeply in thought. Blinking, the teen turned his head to face his friend. “Hey, Sheila.” He let his eyes rove over the bandages and healing scars, soon there might be no trace of the injuries she’d sustained these last few days; that Feline was really amazing.

“Hey yourself, Hank.” There was laughter in her voice and he realized he’d started to daydream. When he flushed slightly as he softly asked how she was feeling, Sheila merely leaned into him and buried her face in his neck, breathing deeply. Hank’s heart started fluttering wildly.

Without thought that the others might return at any moment, Hank slipped his hand under Sheila’s chin and lifted her face for a gentle kiss. She leaned into the contact, her eyes closing. When he tried to pull back, Sheila stopped him by tangling a hand into his hair and smiling up at him. After a couple more kisses, the sound of someone returning alerted them. Hank reluctantly pulled away.