Folios/v7/Time-landscape-2019/MS-160
Katy sat in their newly provided tent, waiting without hope for Matthew to return to her. She wasn’t expecting him to come back. She couldn’t blame him for staying away – although she also couldn’t help but wait for him. She kept replaying the scene with George in her mind. Matthew had just shut down completely when he found out that she was working for Lord Raglan. She could still picture the blank apathy on his face. He wasn’t going to come back. She’d betrayed him. Nothing she said was going to make this better.
Finally there was a movement at the entrance of the tent, and she looked up, heart pounding and stomach clenching.
It was only a soldier.
“Kit Russell?”
She nodded.
“I’ve come to take you to your new assignment.”
“Assignment?” Her voice cracked.
“Your employer has transferred you over to work with the medical officers. He doesn’t require your services any more.”
> As predicted, the actions of subject allocation “KATY” in time-landscape 1854 have become detrimental to progress
> Chances of mission completion becoming increasingly unlikely
> Intervention recommended
>> Intervention denied
Kate was dreaming about Matt kissing her against her desk when an alarm went off. She blinked herself awake. A radio soap was playing on Matt’s clock radio. They were in his room in halls.
She pulled his arm over her waist more firmly, before bringing the duvet up to cover her eyes. Then she lay in the confined darkness, sleepily listening to the sounds of talking until it resolved itself into a discussion on crops. Then she sat up.
She pointed a finger at Matt, and exclaimed, “You!”
Matt rubbed his eyes, and frowned at her. “What?”
“You listen to farming shows!” she announced. “Oh my God, you loser!”
“Shut up. There isn’t anything wrong with a healthy interest in crop rotation.”
She choked on her laughter. “No one listens to farming shows except farmers. It broadcasts at four a.m.! That means you record it to listen to later,” she said, amazed at his dedication to listening to farmers discuss fields.
“They have interesting sections on badgers and stuff too.”
She couldn’t help shaking her head at him. “I thought you were cool,” she said accusingly, sadly. “You misled me. All this time. With the retro haircut and the mismatched clothes, I thought you were being ironically hipster, but really you are just an old man! I can’t date someone who listens to this. It will utterly ruin my street cred!”
“Street cred,” Matt repeated under his breath, and then pulled her down on top of him, silencing her outraged rant with his mouth. She smiled against his lips and kissed him back, already preparing her next jibes.
“Tom said you wanted to be a farmer when you were a kid,” she remembered suddenly. “You still kind of do. That’s so … adorable.”
“Stop talking about my brother when we are in bed together,” he said.
She wrapped an arm behind his neck, kissing him, to show just how focused on him she was and not any of his relatives. In a voice she hoped was sexily husky and not just reminiscent of someone suffering from a bad cold, she murmured, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just listen to the rest of the episode?”
Matt removed his lips from her collarbone and looked up at her. “All right.” He said it with such sincerity that she almost fell for it. After reaching across her, he flicked up the volume on the radio. Then he leant back and crossed his arms behind his head, a picture of contentment. She let out a cry and pulled him back over her immediately. He claimed his victory with a kiss.
“I win,” he said, low and quiet.
Kate shivered. That was what a husky voice was supposed to sound like.
“I think we can both win,” she decided. “We’re definitely both the coolest people in the room.”
“Not exactly hard, is it?”
“That’s what she said,” Kate interjected.
Matt shook his head. “And this is where I chose to lay my affections,” he muttered, like it was just the latest in a series of bad life choices he’d made.
“You’re awesome,” she said contentedly, sighing as he kissed her neck.
He snorted at her. “‘Awesome’? That’s the word you choose? Really? So romantic.”
“You’re radical, dude,” she intoned, pushing his head back down into her neck. “Get back to work. We don’t have much time. We have to make the most of it.”