Off The Beaten Path

Well, Oh Well

It hadn't been hard to avoid Levi in the following days; he was gone first thing the next morning at his meeting. Not that Bernell had been watching for him when she had left to inquire about work... or when she got home. She didn't purposely stand in the garden and tend to the plants in hopes of seeing him the next day, nor did she walk by his house twice "chasing her kids" the day following that. No, she hated him. The very thought of the Captain made her blood boil. She wanted nothing to do with him.

The anger rose in her again, swift and hot, as she remember his words.

'Not with you'.

Breathing deeply Bernell set down the needle she had been using to stitch an intricate lace pattern as she looked out the window and sighed heavily. If she were to be honest with herself she was hurt by his words and actions. She had wanted... something. Validation of the feelings between them at least. Bernell shook her head and went back to her stitching. So the feelings were one sided? So they were unrequited? She was a mother and a grown woman, far too old to be playing these love-struck games. They were for little girls and immature women.

The bell above the door chimed and out of habit Bernell stood to greet the customer. The familiar brown and white pattern jerked at her vision. Immediately she sat back down.

"Hello!" A demure little red head moved to the front of the shop, "How can we help you today?"

Bernell could hear the sickly sweet smile on the girls face. For a moment Bernell wished it were her, but her clothes were not yet done and the blue dress was too unfashionable to be seen on a shop representative. Madam Salish forbade her from working the front of the shop till her new dresses wee complete. So she sat in the back and stitched. And embroidered. And mended. She didn't mind, it kept her hands and her mind busy. She'd always had a gift for small, detailed work. Maybe it was why she picked up the ODM so quickly. For a second the flash of metal and the exhilaration of the wind burst like white lightening through her mind's eye. A sharp prick to her finger ended that fantasy. Hurriedly, so as not to stain the lace, she pulled a wrap from her skirt pocket and wrapped the wound.

Lace was painstaking, detailed work. 20 hours could easily go into a foot of fabric. To ruin such a valuable material would not only cost Bernell her job but would most likely kill her as well. To put that much work into an item just to ruin it- she shuddered at the thought, then delicately resumed her work. The store was nice and calm. The faint scent of ladies perfumes drifted around the hushed whispers of cloth being displayed. The gentle discussions of women over bows and frills accompanied the delicate sounds of tea cakes and china cups. Everything within the shop was gentle, feminine. It calmed Bernell somehow. Despite her vehement protestation of civilization; she enjoyed this. The ease of which she made money, spent money, the calming atmosphere of other people. Some part of her had missed others. Even the memories that the familiar setting elicited soothed her wounded heart.

"M-ma'am?"

Bernell's head snapped up, causing her to stab her finger again. Cursing she put the offended appendage in her mouth. "What?" She mumbled around it.

"Someone has come to call on you?" The little red head indeed looked worried, her hands twisted over themselves and her brow was furrowed. Her deep green eyes looked troubled and murky.

"Okay." Bernell stood, adjusting her dress best she could, "Who is it-?" Her smile froze on her lips. "Commander Smith!" She relaxed visibly, "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hmm." He looked around, visibly uncomfortable in the women's shop. "I see you've taken up a job."

Bernell nodded though he wasn't looking at her.