Nico (vilakins) wrote,

Ficlet: Light Touch

And last week's topic was light. Set just after Hostage, cut for length.

Light Touch

Everyone, Vila found when he got to the flight deck, seemed to be angry with someone else. Blake was glaring at Avon (either for having leaked Travis's whereabouts--and theirs--to Servalan, or for getting shot); Jenna was scowling at Blake (for having kissed his cousin--very nice sympathetic girl, that Inga); and Cally was very annoyed with Avon (for kicking Vila right where that Molok bastard had punched him). She'd muttered under her breath with outrage while she treated Vila for internal bleeding after he'd collapsed, and he was so relieved it had put the whole teleport debacle out of her mind, he hadn't even complained about the pain.

He tried to slip in quietly. No such luck.

"Ah, Vila!" Blake looked up. "All right now?"

"No, he is not," Avon said savagely. "We should have left the pusillanimous little sod behind."

Jenna brightened up. "That's a good idea. That young girl--" she shot a venomous look at Blake, "--seemed to take a bit of a shine to him, I have no idea why."

Typical--take it out on the Delta. What was he--a walking lightning-rod? Unfortunately this time they had a point. Vila sat down on the couch beside Blake. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened. It was being trapped in that little room with no air like they used to do to me when--"

"That's no excuse."

"Yes, Avon, it is," Blake said very quietly; Avon lowered his gaze. "And my uncle told me Vila did try to resist Travis."

"Obviously not hard enough."

"You've never had that lazeron thingy right in your face!" Vila said indignantly. "I did try, you know, even when I thought he'd kill me." He reached into his pockets and slapped two wallets on the table in front of him. "Did my best, see? That's Travis's and that Molok swine's. Dunno what this is for though." He held up a swipe-card. "Not that any of it was much use at the time. Still," he said gleefully, opening one wallet, "the drinks are on me, first planet we go to with a decent pub."


Outside his ship, Travis felt in his pockets disbelievingly. Bloody hell, and that woman was still standing there, watching him. He'd never live this down.

"Lost something, Travis?" Servalan asked sweetly.

"Key," Travis said tersely. And his wallet and all the money he had on him.

"Oh, dear. No honour among crimos?" Servalan laughed.

Travis stood, glowering at his airlock's lock. It was once a Federation ship and he was going to have to swallow his pride and ask her use her override. Which of course her pilot would have.

It had not been a good day.


Everyone laughed, the tension broken, as Vila emptied out the contents of the two wallets.

"Good for you, Vila!" Blake said. "Nice to see you haven't lost your light touch."

Vila grinned happily. In more ways than one, he thought.
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