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Setting: Historical Scotland Sarah snuggled into the soft mattress, enjoying the cushioned feel beneath her body. It had been a long time since she'd felt this comfortable. Mattress? She opened her eyes. A small, dimly-lit room greeted her. A fire blazed in the hearth at the far end. She sat up, and a wave of nausea hit her. "Take it slow, lass. That ale didn't agree with ye." She looked toward the corner of the room. D.K. sat in a chair, his feet propped on a stool. Ale? Oh, no. She must be back in England. Or was it Scotland? Was this some eternal circle she was destined to live over and over again? Oh, drats! This meant that D.K. didn't know her. She sighed wearily, and glanced around the room. "Where am I?" "My bed." D.K.'s eyes burned intently, as he stared at her. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, have me a room here over the tavern. That's where ye are." His bedroom. Sarah blushed. She sat back against the headboard. "So ... uh, what do we do now?" she asked nervously, then realized how awkward a question that was. "Would ye like to send a message to yer da?" he asked softly, as he stood and walked to the bed. Sarah hugged her knees to her chest. She chided herself. Why did she feel so nervous? There wasn't any reason to be. The man coming toward her was D.K., and he'd never hurt her. "Well, lass?" He sat beside her, right on the edge of the bed. She gulped at the intensity of his stare. She'd never seen that particular look in D.K.'s eyes. She couldn't even really describe it. "Well, what?" "Your da?" "Oh, my father. Uh, no. I can't contact him. He's ... out of the country." D.K. reached out and twirled a lock of her blonde hair around his finger. "What are yer plans then?" "I--I don't know." D.K.'s hand shifted to cup her cheek. "Perhaps ye should stay right where ye are. You're quite a bonny lass." Sarah's breath caught in her throat as D.K. leaned forward. He was going to-- A sudden knock disturbed the tension surrounding them. D.K. frowned. "Go away!" he called out. "I'm busy." "I must speak with ye, sir," a male voice called out from the other side of the door. "Tis urgent business." Sarah thought she heard a growl from deep in D.K.'s throat as he shot to his feet. She let out the tight breath she'd been holding. Conflicting emotions raged inside her. She felt relieved at the interruption, but disappointed, at the same time. "Wait here," he told her, impatience lacing his voice. He stalked to the door and slipped outside. Sarah jumped off the bed. It might be better if she got out of here. D.K. didn't know her in this time period, and she wasn't really sure if she could trust him. She bit her bottom lip. She probably could trust him, but should she take the chance? She shook her head. No, it was best to leave. She'd wake up again, and he'd know her--maybe. Then they could try to figure out how to stop this craziness. After a few moments, she opened the door a crack and peered out. Nobody. Good. She slipped into the hall. How could she make it outside unnoticed? Quietly, she approached the top of the stairs. Loud chatter and roars of laughter from downstairs drifted up to her. The tavern sounded crowded. No one would probably even notice her. She tip-toed down the stairs, glancing around for D.K.. He was nowhere to be seen. Three-fourths of the way down the stairs, a hand shot through the bannister posts and grabbed her ankle. "Where do ye think yer going?" a male voice demanded. Sarah screamed as she tumbled head first the rest of the way down the steps. |