A/N: Hello, all! I certainly hope you all know about Dalek Week on deviantART here a while back, but if you don't I'll give you a quick explanation:

#Alek-and-Deryn, a group on the site, has an annual thing called "Dalek week" where all Leviafans (Haha! Came up with that name myself!) can submit seven "deviations" (Pieces of art, writing, cosplay, etc.) for each day of the week, all under a different, pre-specified category.

I participated in said event, and I did a mix of art and writing. I don't know if the art will show up, but I'll certainly make sure you get to read the writing! Here we go…

UPDATE: Yeah, so the pictures didn't show up. Sorry. You'll just have to imaaaagine them. Or go to my page on deviantART: lissa-molloy .deviantart

Dalek Week 2012.

Day 1: Parents

The door closed behind them with a soft click. Light from the setting sun cast long

shadows on everything in Alek's room, much like wormlamps did, but in bright oranges and

yellows, not green.

But Deryn wasn't focused on any of that.

She reached for her prince's hand, feeling his fingers slide into hers like pieces in a

puzzle. "Finally," Deryn whispered, "Some time to ourselves."

"Mmhmm," Alek agreed, studying her features in the dim light. She pulled him in close,

leaning in for the kiss she'd been wanting for days. The curve of his lips fit on hers with a sort

of—

"Aleksander!" Volger's voice called from the hall. Alek pulled back with a start, face

"Mr. Sharp?" Deryn could hear Dr. Barlow at the door to her room, to the left of Alek's.

"Blisters!" she cursed, searching frantically for an escape route before the count could

come barging in. She rushed silently to the balcony, judging the distance between Alek's and

hers.

"They're like our parents," Alek groaned, following her. He bit his lip when he realized

her plan, but didn't say anything. He knew by now she could make the jump, easy.

Deryn turned to face him, surprised. "Parents?" she echoed, face twisting into a grimace.

"Barking annoying ones, then." She climbed up onto the solid stone banister, holding out her

arms for balance.

"Very much so," Alek said from behind her. "You can have them," he added with a

wicked grin.

Deryn shook her head and leaned down to give him a quick kiss, and then leaped

quickly over the open space and on to the safety of her own balcony. Her feet connected with the

ground in a solid thump, and she turned to give her prince one last, fleeting glance. "Dummkopf,"

was all she said.

As she raced to open the door for Dr. Barlow, she heard him call softly, "Love you,

too!" and smiled.

Day 2: Roaring 20s

(This one is a picture, so if it doesn't show up, sorry!)

Day 3: Blindfold

(Also a picture)

Day 4: Summer Afternoons

(Still a drawing)

Day 5: WWII

(You know the drill)

Day 6: Obsession

(Hey! This one is actually writing!)

All she had seen of Alek for the last three days had been the closed door of his office, a dark, fabricated mahogany barrier that blocked her away from him. She often found herself staring at the door these days, waiting for the brief moments he'd come out for something to eat, or, if she was lucky, to come sleep in their bed instead of hunched over his desk.

Her home—no, their home, no matter how little he seemed to be a part of it—seemed empty. The halls were occupied only by the ghosts of happier days, before the boy she had known drifted away. They haunted her, and many times Deryn couldn't stand the emptiness and had to leave for a few hours just to clear her head of the awful sadness it gave her. Deryn often wondered if Alek got lonely, hunched over piles of paper from the rise of the sun to the set.

No. If he did, he wouldn't do the same day after day.

Of late, their conversations were brief, a few words here and there that she grasped at, trying to pull him back to her, back to the life they'd had before. She held on to them now like she had her father's Air Gallantry Cross so many years ago. They were a piece of when she was happy, a snatch of blue sky on a cloudy day. Only, that cloudy day was looking as though there were no end in sight.

It was strange, Deryn thought, tracing small patterns on the door she hated so much, how she used to throw the words away, believing there was a never ending supply of them waiting to be claimed. The same had gone for smiles and laughter. They were just wisps of smoke that slipped through her fingers.

The backs of her eyes burned with unshed tears. She'd sworn to herself not to cry—it just wasn't something she did, and that would mean admitting defeat.

And Deryn Hohenberg did not admit defeat. Not now, not ever.

Her palms connected solidly with the wood, resulting in a crack she'd been wanting to hear since the first time the door had been closed instead of held open in welcome. The shock jolted up her arms, and a half second later the door slammed inward.

Alek, exactly where she had known he would be, nearly jumped. The papers fell from his hands, and he jerked around to face the intruder.

His wife.

Deryn still noticed the small details, like the way his reading glasses always tilted to one side, that one piece of hair that always stood up in the back, and even how his head had finally caught up to fit the size of his ears. They were the things that made him Alek, and that tore at her heart. Because she felt like she hardly knew him anymore.

"Alek." Her voice came out steadier than she'd thought it would. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the tears still waiting in the corners of her eyes.

"What, Deryn? I'm kind of busy right now…" he trailed off, as though suddenly noticing the now-disorganized papers on his desk and began to straighten them into neat piles.

Deryn took two steps and was across the room, less than a foot from him. This was the closest they'd been in days. "Don't be."

He didn't even meet her eyes. "I am. And I'm already behind on these reports, so I really don't have time…"

In the back of her mind, Deryn was wondering at the fact that he was actually having some sort of conversation with her. "At least come out for dinner." She was trying to stay calm, to reason with him.

"I don't have time. I'm working."

The anger bubbled up in her throat, spilling out in a torrent. "No, you're obsessed!" Her voice was a shout now, but she didn't even care. "Blisters, would you just look at me, Alek?" Deryn reached down and pulled his face toward hers. He hadn't bothered to shave, and his chin was covered in red-brown stubble that scratched her fingers. "Where have you gone?"

He looked puzzled, his green eyes clouding over, "I'm right here."

"No you aren't! I don't even know who you are anymore, Alek! You've gone away from me and become someone who doesn't have time for his own barking life! Don't you remember what it used to be like, when you went outside and we actually talked?" When we were still in love? She didn't say.

Deryn held his gaze fiercely, and in his eyes she thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a piece of him left. She pressed her lips on his, hard, the way they used to do. He responded, kissing her back, if only for a moment. "Alek, I miss you. Come back."

His mouth was slightly open, lips bright red and cheeks flushed from their kiss. He almost looked like his old self now. The light was back in his eyes.

Too soon, the moment ended. He turned away from her, eyes downcast. When he spoke, she could almost hear sadness in his voice. "I have to finish these papers."

Deryn could feel her heart stop. The world crashed in on her with those six words, and any desperate hope that she'd clung to that maybe he was still the man she'd fallen in love with was still there disappeared. He was gone forever.

She turned away and walked out the door of his office. She didn't stop there, just kept walking away from the stranger that looked like Alek. There was nothing left for her there anymore. The tears now slid freely down her cheeks.

Deryn Sharp had finally admitted defeat.

Day 7: Generations

(This one is actually a photograph of my grandpa, my mom, and I reading the trilogy )