JUST ONE WISH

Pairing: Vila/Avon

Author: Illne Vertell

Notes: Originally published in THE BIG B7 ZINE (1993)

Just One Wish
by Illne Vertell

"C'mon Avon, just a little further now." With a beckoning motion, Vila urged the recalcitrant tech to follow him.

"Vila, I have humored this...aberration of yours quite long enough. We have the supplies Cally needs, it is time to leave."

Completely oblivious to Avon's rapidly waning patience, Vila suddenly scampered forward emitting an excited cry. "There," he pointed, "just over that hillock."

"Vila, I said…" Avon fell silent, realizing that the thief, even if he could hear Avon's words at this distance, would pay them no mind. Much like a child, when Vila found something to distract himself with, nothing short of thermonuclear war would recapture his attention.

Hands on hips, Avon watched with resignation as Vila disappeared over the hill's crest. Heaving a much put-upon sigh, he followed the errant Delta at a more sedate pace.

Admittedly, DONEGAL was a lovely planet. Avon, not being what one would call an outdoorsman, couldn't help being just a little discomfited by the wide open spaces surrounding him, even as he enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine. Still, he would feel much more secure once aboard LIBERATOR. As a dome-bred Alpha, he still found it difficult to be comfortable when out in the elements.

All things considered, this had after all been Blake's idea, their mission to DONEGAL had gone quite smoothly. After all, he'd reasoned to himself, what trouble could Vila find on a small, pastoral planet settled by peaceful Irish immigrants.

Besides, how could he not meet the challenge in Blake's eyes when their fearless leader had "suggested" this minor supply run be dealt with by Avon and Vila.

And, everything had gone so well. Too well. Vila dealt with the vendors, negotiating prices with a verve that the Irish obviously admired. They'd spent far less money and time than anticipated, and were ready to teleport back to LIBERATOR much sooner than anticipated.

Then, Vila spotted IT.

In retrospect, Avon knew he should have put his foot down and insisted on teleport immediately. Instead, being in a somewhat benign mood, he'd humored the smaller man and followed along.

Certainly, when Vila started chortling gleefully about rainbows, pots of something, and (if Avon could trust his hearing) leprechauns.

Resignedly, Avon started up the hill when the sound of a triumphant yell reached his ears.

"Gotcha, you little devil." Vila sounded a little breathless, as if involved in a tussle. "Hold still you. I caught you fair'n'square."

Despite himself, Avon hurried toward Vila's voice, anxious to see exactly what had been caught. He was somewhat surprised to see the holding what appeared to be a midget. Close by the struggling figures sat a kettle shaped object holding a material that shone as if it were gold.

GOLD?

Avon's eyes lit with avaricious interest. He moved a step closer.

Still staring at the container of gold, Avon almost missed Vila's next comment, "Don't get your knickers in a twist, all I want is one wish, you can keep the gold."

Avon's jaw dropped.

A WISH?

NO GOLD?????

Whatinthhell?? Avon shrugged, shook his head. Apparently Vila had gone 'round the bend, joining their fearless leader in madness. Wonderful.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation when Vila started whispering in the midget's ear.

Lost in thoughts of immediate, intensive psychiatric care for Vila, Avon started when he heard his name. He looked at Vila, immediately noticing the absence of the pot of gold. Gone also, was the midget.

"Ready?" Vila asked cheerily.

Avon opened his mouth to demand an explanation. Paused, and thought better of his questions. He was quite sure he did not want to know.

"Yes, Vila," he raised the bracelet to his lips, "I am definitely ready."

* * *

Restless for reasons he could not identify, Avon left his cabin and headed to the galley. He brewed himself a cup of tea and sat down to sip it while he read the technical manual he'd brought along for entertainment.

The fifth time he found himself rereading the same paragraph, Avon gave up and slammed the magazine shut. He sighed and reached to take a swallow of tea.

Sputtering - he'd forgotten how hot freshly brewed tea was - he shoved the cup aside and rose to his feet.

"Avon?"

Before his mind had even identified the intrusive voice as that of Vila, Avon had turned to the door, a ready sneer on his lips. "What is it now?" he asked shortly.

Vila smiled gently, brown eyes twinkling as if they shared a secret joke. Avon considered sending the impudent man on his way with a few well-chosen words of derision, but the hopeful expression on Vila's face touched him in a way he'd thought impossible. With a silent nod of assent, he followed Vila to his quarters.

Curiously, he wandered about the small cabin, examining the few bits and pieces of memory scattered around. While not exactly cluttered, the room had a homey feel to it. It was, he discovered, a comfortable place.

Settled in a over—stuffed chair, Avon watched as Vila bustled about, gathering a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a cheap—-but attractive—-tray upon to present his offering.

It had been an unsettling day, and Avon was glad of the chance to relax and just be himself. No need for pretense with Vila, the smaller man always seemed to know how to behave in accordance with Avon's mood.

Why, he wondered had he not taken note of this before? And why, as he accepted the glass of wine Vila offered him, had he never noticed how soft and vulnerable those soft brown eyes were?

Taking a sip of the wine, Avon sighed in appreciation. A mellow warmth spread through his midsection. He looked up at Vila and smiled.
Really smiled.

Vila returned the smile, and settled himself on the floor at Avon's feet.
The tech uttered not a word of reprimand as the Vila leaned his head back against Avon's knee.

Somewhere, far in the back of his mind, Avon knew he was behaving with uncharacteristic benevolence. He just didn't care.

Slowly his fingers threaded their way through the silken strands of Vila's hair. The thief sighed and snuggled closer.

"Vila." He had no idea what he wanted to say, just that he should say something.

A warm hand covered his lips as Vila turned to face him. "No words, Avon." Soft pools of brown silently begged his cooperation. "Just for tonight. Just this one wish."

The End