Dalek Week: Blindfold 2012

Deryn Sharp sat down on the airship's narrow bed and slid backwards until she was pressed to the wall. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight, staring without seeing. Instead of the tiny middy's cabin she saw the rain-soaked topside, heard the crash of waves, the howl of the wind, and shouted promises.

Deryn touched one hand to her mouth. Just like it had topside, her pulse began to quicken. She hid her face in her knees.

*Do not be a ninny.*

*Do not be a ninny.*

But it was like sprinting and trying to stop at the edge of the cliff—she tumbled right over, remembering the warmth of Alek's lips, as if in spite of the cold. He'd been a bit surprised, but mostly calm—had he already known?

*"You know I can't—"*

Deryn shook her head to rid herself of Alek's voice. She'd cut him off so she didn't have to hear it again. She knew. She knew, she knew, she knew.

She knew she was in way over her head.

Suddenly, Deryn very much wanted to hear her ma's old lullabies, something she hadn't wanted since her da died. She'd stopped believing in the fairytales they told when she was eight, but there was something comforting about them and now she wished she could remember the words. An irrational want to cry welled up in the back of her throat.

She shook her head again. It was just a kiss and it had done its job twofold: revealing her last secret and permanently removing the blindfold—still half on—from Alek's eyes. With a shiver, she wished she could put it back on. But there was no way to put back such a lie.

Ever since her da's accident, Deryn had wished she was one of those people that could just push emotion aside, but she wasn't. Instead, she took slow breaths and when her pulse returned to normal, she made her feelings for Alek as small as possible and shoved them away somewhere deep inside. The heavy weight of them settled inside her chest.

She had told herself in Istanbul: she would be his friend and nothing more. It was no use pinning.

Now, she had a report to write.


1948

"That is a good point," Deryn said, standing with all the swagger she'd never lost. "I'm going to find Bovril."

Alek straightened. "Dylan, wait."

Deryn froze.

Slowly, she turned back to her husband.

Alek managed to keep a straight face for only a moment, then a grin followed by a laugh made him double over.

"You knew you had that coming," he said when he had breath.

"Alek, you bum-rag!"

"Ma!" Sophie yelled. Startled, both parents turned to their daughter, now twenty-one and visiting from university. She was on her way to becoming an aircraft designer. With a huff and exaggerated dignity, she turned a page in Deryn's old aerology manual. "I'm *trying* to study."

Deryn and Alek covered their mouths to stifle childish giggles. Alek pulled a face at Deryn, mouthing, *Dylan*.