Chapter 12: Headaches
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"Jordan? Jordan? Breath for me. Come on now, quit screwing around," Whittaker's voice reached her from what sounded like miles away.
"Is she okay?" Why did Aleksei sound so far away, too? They'd been so close to reaching each other. Their souls had almost blended. What the hell was going on?
"Dammm..." Jordan groaned softly, her chest rising as she took in a full breath of air, keeping her eyes closed as she focused on regaining her breath and trying to reach the shining star she'd been so close to touching. Consciously she knew she'd had the wind knocked out of her and the best thing she could do was relax and wait for her lungs to refill. However, her body still screamed for the impending physical release she'd been on the verge of experiencing and at the moment she'd have gladly given up breathing - hell living - to feel the shattering explosion of release that had been at her fingertips.
"Jordan, do you hurt anywhere?" Whittaker asked, concern clear in his deep voice; the voice that pulled her back to earth and replaced the freedom she had felt as she flew toward the stars with Aleksei and exchanged it for lungs that burned for oxygen. Damn!
"Should I?" she finally answered weakly, rolling to lay on her back, her knees pointing toward the ceiling as she covered her eyes with her arms. Relax, relax, relax she repeated to herself, feeling her lungs expand and contract with each slow breath.
Whittaker's voice held a smile. "Hopefully not, but considering you did your best to take off Aleksei's shoulder I thought I should ask."
Jordan raised her arms enough to peek out from beneath them and watch as Whittaker carefully checked her ribs. "What are you talking about?"
"My fucking leg didn't hold!" Aleksei growled from across the room, where he scowled back and forth between Whittaker kneeling beside Jordan to Dee where she stood keeping him from her, frustration and anger coming through loud and clear.
"It's not the first time I've been dropped, I'm sure it won't be the last," Jordan stated matter-of-factly.
"The hell it won't!" Aleksei blasted back.
Jordan allowed Whittaker to help her to a sitting position, breathing slow, deep breaths as her body got back into sync with itself. Allowing herself a slow perusal of Aleksei, she shook her head to clear the final remnants of her obvious hallucination. Aleksei continued to pace, his limp lessening as he moved restlessly. "Rocmanov, falling is part of skating. I would have thought you understood that. It's not as if you haven't taken a spill yourself," Jordan suggested, rising slowly to her knees and finally to her feet, foregoing Whittaker's offered assistance.
Absently she ran her hands through her tussled shades-of-copper hair, re-securing the barrette, which held it out of her face. Her body still hummed, balanced on the edge of she didn't know what, shifting from a need to explode to one of dissolving into nothingness. The need to touch and reassure Aleksei overwhelming and yet the fear of doing so almost tangible. The whole situation was unsettling, to say the least.
"No shit, Sherlock. I've fallen more times that I care to admit, but I've never been the direct cause of someone else being hurt."
"I'm not hurt," Jordan stated, straightening up then weaving slightly as bright flashes of light exploded in her head.
Aleksei rushed to her side, easily brushing Dee out of the way and caught Jordan from the back as her knees began to give way. Her back rested against his chest, the muscles of his forearms brushing against the undersides of her breasts. "Right - you're not hurt," his voice stated in a disbelieving tone over her head.
"Rocmanov, shut the hell up," Jordan complained weakly, her hands ineffectively pushing against his arms where they rested around her waist. "You're giving me a headache."
"That's it - you're going to the hospital!" Aleksei stated, sweeping her into his arms then staggering as his leg again refused to hold him and they both hit the padded floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
"God dammit, Rocmanov. What are you trying to do, kill me?" Jordan raged, untangling herself from his still clinging arms and sitting beside him.
Aleksei had the grace to look embarrassed and raised himself to his elbows, trying to ignore the pulsing pain surging through his weak leg. "So much for chivalry," he suggested, his eyes flashing impishly, then wincing when Jordan punched him in the shoulder in frustration.
"The next time you decide to be chivalrous, be sure you can keep from dropping the lady. I didn't ask for your help, in fact, I didn't even want your help!" Jordan fumed.
"You said you had a headache."
"I said 'you're giving me a headache'. There's a difference."
"You could have a head injury," Aleksei suggested.
Jordan looked at Aleksei in disbelief. "You're right!" she suddenly agreed. "I'd have to have a head injury to believe we could ever skate together successfully. Whittaker, take me to a fucking looney bin. I've obviously lost my mind!" she screamed, frustration turning her eyes a fire-filled emerald and her cheeks a deep rose. She rose to her feet, willing herself to stand tall and steady.
Aleksei followed her up, favoring his good leg but still towering over Jordan. "Jordan, I'm just worried about you," He allowed, refusing to believe it was any more than concern over their skating partnership, he didn't dare consider the aspects of a personal relationship.
"Well, don't be," Jordan stormed, pushing his arm away as he reached for her. "So help me, Rocmanov. You try to help me again and you won't have to worry about the next time you drop me - you won't have the arms to get me up in the air in the first place!" She vowed, lifting her chin challengingly and walking away.
Aleksei appreciated the view as she stormed away from him, despite her anger her shapely bottom still swayed enticingly and he smiled a wickedly appreciative smile.
Whittaker caught the look and shook his head knowingly. "That boy's a slow learner when it comes to that little girl," he commented to Dee. She still stood silently next to Whittaker trying to make heads or tails out of the little scene that had just played out before them.
"Did any of that make sense to you or have things changed to the degree that we're somewhere out in left field without the new rule book?" Dee asked in a bewildered tone.
"I was kind of hoping you had all the answers," Whittaker countered semi-seriously.
"We're in deep shit, Frank!" Dee stated, chewing on her lower lip as she pondered their predicament.
"I don't know about you, but I'm digging out my old waders," Whittaker stated, moving forward to meeting Aleksei as he limped toward his coach.
"Now what?" Aleksei demanded, absently rubbing his shoulder where Jordan had punched him. It hadn't been a hard hit but she'd known exactly where to do it and he could feel the knot beginning to form.
Whittaker looked at Dee. "The pool?" Dee agreed with a nod.
"We're going swimming?" Aleksei asked in disbelief.
"Something like that," Whittaker acknowledged and urged his skater slowly out of the workout room.
"Terrific, first she beats me up and now she's going to get the chance to drown me. I don't see how my day can get much better," Aleksei growled.
"Give it a chance. I'm sure there's a way," Whittaker suggested, lightly punching his already sore shoulder and walking forward to join Dee.
"I'm holding my breath," Aleksei mumbled darkly, rubbing his sore shoulder and doing his best to ignore the knot he could feel growing beneath his fingers. Maybe the pool wouldn't be such a bad idea. He could only hope.
Text Copyright © 2000 by Constance E. Moynihan
