Name: Roslyn - Species: Unknown

Name: Roslyn - Species: Unknown 19

Something smelt heavenly. My nose twitched and stomach rumbled happily... there was just no way I was getting back to sleep. I sighed and opened my eyes. There was a fire about two meters away and Mak was sitting next to it, a straw like basket beside him. I saw a baguette sticking out of that basket and guessed that the good smell was coming from in there. Despite my hunger however, I was now more concerned about what exactly Mak was wearing.

I've seen the old movies with men in breeches, boots and those too big linen shirts with those old Victorian looking jackets. Well that was Mak, all decked out in full ancient time garb. I stared at him, not even bothering to sit up.

"How long are you planning on gawking love?" he laughed, eyes sliding to mine. "Not that I mind the attention."

"What the hell are you wearing?" I sat up.

"We happen to be in the far, far past darling," he grinned, standing up. "We've got to fit in. There's a dress here for you too."

I stared at the rose colored thing he pulled up from beside the food basket with unconcealed horror. I was not getting into that thing.

"Why bother?" I thought quickly as he advanced on me with the dress. "I can just take us home."

"Do you have any idea where we'll turn up?" he laughed. "You can't control your power. We need to just stay here until we figure this out."

"There is no 'we'!" I jumped to my feet as he got too close. "I can just leave your arse here and go back to the present."

"Then you'll never know where those documents you want so badly are."

"I'll find another way to get them."

"I've made it clear to the guy at the hospital that if he gives those reports to anyone but myself he'll have the Sparrow territory to answer to. He won't risk it."

"I'll go back before you tell him that."

"Can you really be that precise with time?"

I grit my teeth to stop myself from cursing at him. I hated that he was right. Still, there was no way in hell that I was getting into that dress. My decision must have shown on my face because he calmly stalked up to me before I could get away and grabbed my arm.

"Rose you are either getting into this dress and willingly having breakfast with me so that we can talk about what to do from here, or I will put the dress on for you, tie you up and feed you breakfast while holding you so that you can't go anywhere without me."

The fighter in me rebelled against his orders instantly. It had been like this between us since the day I came to the sparrows. He was used to being followed without question and I loathe taking orders. Still, I was so used to living with him as my leader. Not to mention that he claimed I was his 'mate' or something like that... it just messed everything up. I knew I didn't have a chance in hell of getting away from him. Once Mak had set his mind to something, it happened, end of story.

"I'm waiting for an answer love," he was perfectly serious.

"Give me the damn dress."

"Good girl," he let go of my arm and handed me the dress. "Now don't try that disappearing act on me, you don't know what else I've told Rafe to do in my absence."

I really did not like the sound of that. This was his trump card and it was a damn good one. I had been thinking about time jumping to the present... no matter what he'd said about me not getting the documents, I was still going to try... until that trump card. No way was I going to leave now. I knew that whatever Mak told Rafe to do if I should show up without him, Rafe would do happily and it would not be good for me. I hated Rafe with a passion.

I glared at Mak for a good long minute before turning around and marching over to a thicker part of the woods to change. I heard him laugh, then go back over to the fire. I hoped his hair caught alight, that would make my day.

The dress wasn't as vulgar as I first thought... but that did mean that I liked the look at it at all. It was a dusty rose, the same color as that first shirt I borrowed from Ash. Unwillingly I slipped out of my clothes and pulled the dress up. It wasn't corseted, thank God, but it would tight enough on its own once I got it closed. It was made out of some thick, tough material that I would have used to make mattresses. The front wasn't too low, which I was grateful for, but it would cling to my upper half, skintight against my waist and hips. Past the hips it just hung there. The fabric wasn't itchy, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. I definitely was not liking the dress.

I looked down at myself, half glad that it flattered my figure and half wishing I could throw it into the fire and put my t-shirt back on. It was strange though, that dress and my modern shoes... let's just hope no one sees them. I took my sweet time picking up my clothes and walking around the tree because I had a serious problem. I could not button the back of the dress. I was not at all looking forward to asking Mak to do it either... because there was just no way that he would show any signs of chivalry now.

"What took you so long?" Mak looked up as I walked over. "I bloody-well thought you got lost in that thing."

"Shut up and button it," I snapped, spinning around.

I was surprised when he didn't say anything. I heard him stand and walk over, stopping right behind me. His heat pooled against my back and I fought to not turn away. I would not let him see how much he affected me.

Slowly, deliberately, he ran a finger up my back. I clenched my jaw, fighting not to move, to spin away, slap him, swear at him like there's no tomorrow... I had to stay still, this was a power play. He was trying to get me mad, to make me lash out and prove that I felt something. I would not give him that satisfaction. He stopped at my bra strap, then reached down and started buttoning, slowly. I swear my teeth were going to end up flat from all the grinding I was doing.

"You've awfully tense love," he laughed, pulling the dress tighter as he buttoned. "Have you got something to say?"

"I'm not your love."

"Then why didn't you throw me off the couch yesterday?" he was very serious now, but I could never tell his mood by his tone of voice, Mak was infamously hard to read.

I had no answer to that. I have no idea what happened yesterday. Maybe I just really wanted a shag... no. That wasn't it. I didn't know why I reacted to him like that, but  I sure as hell knew that it was not going to happen again. I was sending the message, loud and clear, that I did not want this. I was not giving into this. Whatever 'this' was.

He got up to the middle of the dress and stopped. I waited for him to move, but he didn't. Patience has never been one of my virtues, so I tapped my foot. He didn't get the hint.

"Did you do it wrong?" I asked. No answer. "Hello?" Still nothing. "Mak!"

I gave up and turned around. His expression stopped my anger in its tracks. I don't think I've ever seen him look so lost. He looked like a man standing in the middle of a desert, lost and hopeless. Where the hell was his arrogant smirk, his orders and his frustrating need to dominate everyone?! How was I supposed to be pissed at him when he looked like that? Why wasn't I laughing? Mak was always so self-assured and I hated that, so why wasn't his lost expression hilarious to me? Why did I want to hold him and tell him it was going to be alright? I didn't even know what the problem was and I wanted to tell him it would all be okay.

He lifted a hand to the side of my neck, resting on my shoulder. It was warm and I had no urge to jerk away. No... it was happening again. I was letting him influence me again. I had just promised myself that it would never, ever happen again, but now I knew there was no chance of escaping it. I couldn't stop myself from needing to have him close. Heat radiated onto my skin from his hand, his thump gently stroking the side of my neck.

"What's wrong?" I murmured.

He didn't say anything, in fact I don't think he could actually speak. I had no idea what had him looking like that, but anything that could upset Mak like that really scared the hell out of me. When he encircled my waist with his other arm and pulled me close, I let him. The hand on my neck slid to the back of my head, gripping my hair. He held me against him, just held me there, like he needed support... or comfort. I am not used to being held, it was strange to let someone hold me so close for more than a split second hug. But this... was comforting. I didn't like that it was... but there was just no helping it.