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"A
Little Downtime"
Dean leaned back, and let out a loud sigh. It felt good to finally be able to sit and relax in his quarters. Well with all that had been going out lately, relaxation was a welcome change. The young Ensign took another sip of his drink, and thought over the events of the past couple of weeks. Fresh out of the Academy, he had now seen what it was like to be in deepspace, on a real mission. Unlike his Cadet cruise aboard the Excalibur. That had been smooth sailing, not once had they been fired apon, almost captured and put into a prision camp. Nothing of that sort had happened, so it was a nice change. Dean stood up, and crossed over to the mirror. "Not too bad," he said, looking at where he had been injured during the battle. He let out a little smile, before slumping back down into his chair. Picking
up his book, he began to absently flip through the pages, a little bored,
but it was a change. Nice and quiet. Hell it never killed anybody...
"Focus"
Captain Spencer sat at his desk, focused on his work with smoldering intensity. His recent discussion with Marie left him with the intense desire to loose himself in his work. And there was plenty to lose himself in. Nothing generated as much paperwork as a space battle. Tarrah hovered around the Captain as he worked at his desk. She rotated the forms in front of him. As he finished one, she would replace it with the next, and then she would finish downloading it into the ships computer and copy it for a data-burst to Command. The Captain had made it very clear that he wasn't in a talkative mood. As soon as he entered his quarters he had done nothing more than grunt at Tarrah before taking his seat and launching himself into his reports. Tarrah, of course, understood his feelings after her own encounter with Ensign Larron. But it still pained her to see David feeling this way. She knew she would be able to ease the turmoil he was going through. She came up behind him and leaned over his shoulder to retrieve another PADD. Being so close to him, she couldn't help but enjoy the smell of him. The warmth of his body radiated to touch her cheek. When she turned her back to input the report, she heard him begin to stir and turned to see him taking off his uniform jacket. Her eyes widened at the thought of him taking off his cloths, had he finally come around? Did he finally find her as irresistible as she found him? But as soon as his jacket was off, he tossed it aside and returned to work, oblivious of her reaction. Tarrah couldn't help but frown as she took the jacket and carried it through the door into his quarters. Once again, she was confronted with the painting of Marie that still lay in one corner of the room. The care and love that went into the artwork cried out through the blended shapes and colors. She looked back at David, still working in the outer office. Keeping her eyes focused on him, she returned to the office. David was still focused completely on his work. Tarrah came back up behind him to swap another report. She could sense the tension that knotted his shoulders through his white turtleneck. Every instinct cried at her to rub those shoulders and help him forget about his problems. That was who she was, that was what she was good at. But she pulled herself away again and began to download the newest report. This was a different situation and she swore to herself that she could change. She looked over her shoulder to see David's back hunched over the reports on his desk, beyond him the door to his personal quarters where the painting of Marie lay. Tarrah swore she would do whatever she needed to to make sure that the Captain and the Navigator got back together. "Old
Times"
"You have to admit that having a starship is much more exciting then sitting out here orbiting an asteroid" Adam Hathaway was the Commander of Starbase 12. Spencer walked the corridor with his old friend from the Academy. "Yeah, I guess." David had been morose during most of the visit. The Republic was getting extensive repairs and the crew was enjoying some leave. New arrivals and replacements had been slowly filtering in. But most recently, the Captain had been helping the doctor transfer off the more seriously wounded personnel for their eventual return to Earth. It was a grim task and one that forced the Captain to give some hindsight to his actions. Even though Starfleet approved of their action with the Arwa, it was still gut wrenching to see people get hurt over his choices and decisions. "But at least you're exploring new worlds instead of staring at the same old rock out of your window every morning." Commander Hathaway continued. "And the women must be amazing." "Geez, Adam, I haven't been out that long." David moaned. "Oh, come on, this is you we're talking about. It never took that long at the Academy." Adam poked David in the arm. David said nothing. "Isn't that little Orion girl with you?" "Why does everyone think..." David stopped himself. "Tarrah's my yeoman, Adam. There's nothing going on with her." "You know, there are some women here on the station that hang out in the lounge..." "No!" David snapped, "Thanks but... not this time." "If you say so." Adam finally relented. They walked on in silence for a while. "So if you're not involved with Tarrah" Would you mind if I..." David had stopped and was looking in the window of one of the dining facilities here on the station. Sitting at a lone table sat a tall blond human female, Sonya Williams. David and Sonya had been a serious item back in San Francisco. In fact, David had almost rejected his first space assignment in order to stay with her. But it had ended badly. "I told you there were some women here on the station." Adam smiled as he followed his friend's gaze. "I think you should go over and catch up." Adam slapped his friend on the shoulder before leaving him to continue staring at his old flame. David turned to leave twice, but couldnt quite do it. Finally, curiosity drew him into the dining room. "Sonya?" he asked as he neared her table. She looked up at him and her face immediately ran through a series of emotional responses. "David?" She asked "You look great." He said, still standing awkwardly across the table from her. "So do you. Have a seat. Can you stay?" She was obviously feeling as awkward as he was. "Sure, I have a few minutes anyway." David sat down. "So what have you been up to?" "Starfleet Security." She gestured towards her tunic. "I see you made Captain. Do you have a ship?" "The Republic. We're in for repairs." "Ah." Sonya nodded her head. "Listen, Sonya, about..." "No..." She cut him off. "Look, that's old news. What's done is done." "But I didn't want to..." "David." Sonya stopped him. "Please. I've forgotten about it and moved on." "But I still need to apologize. I betrayed your trust and drove you out of my life. I need to make up for that. I need to make it better." "Don't you get it? If you make it better..." Sonya caught herself before opening up the revelation she was afraid of revealing even to herself. "If you make it better, then I won't have anything to buffer me from the pain of not having you in my life." They stared at each other for a long time. "I guess I haven't forgotten about it." She finally said. David had a hard time finding what to say next. "Me too." He finally said. The
two of them sat and continued to talk for several hours.
"Rien
ne va plus"
There weren't too many Starfleet officers down here. The small casino on one of the lower decks was frequented by mostly civilians, and Marie herself had dressed like one. The booze was genuine - thank goodness - and affordable, too. That is, it had been when she had entered the casino several hours ago. Since then she had lost so much money that she didn't know if she'd ever be out of debt again. It was all because of David. He was on her mind day and night, night and day, making her feel miserable and angry at herself for getting too attached. "Place your bets," the croupier at the roulette table said, and Marie chose another straight-up on a random number. "En plein," confirmed the croupier impassively and waited until the other two people playing at the table had chosen their numbers. "Rien ne va plus." And the wheel began to spin. Spinspinspin... Marie was beginning to feel the effects of her fourth mojito. Not that it mattered. Who would care if she got herself dead drunk? She'd lived through it once, she'd live through it again. She wondered what David was doing right now. It was late. He was probably in his quarters, and that little green pain-in-the-neck yeoman was with him. Yuck. Slowly the roulette wheel in front of her came to a halt: another ten credits down the drain, but what did it matter - she'd already lost when David walked out on her in the gym. No, not true: she'd already lost when she had agreed to that bet for a portrait of her. She was a loser. Blast her reckless personality. Always got her into trouble. Marie finished her drink and stood up, but had to sit down quickly again: dizzyness had set in, and she knew it was time to retire. Perhaps she would. Perhaps she would go to her quarters, fall asleep, and never wake up again... yes, that would be such an easy way out, such a cowardly way. No. She'd lived through it once, she'd live through it again. Deciding that it was time to stop losing Marie finished off her drink, rose unsteadily and began to walk out of the casino. She knew she'd live, but until then she would be feeling lifeless, apathetic, paralyzed. Behind her she heard the croupier say another, "Rien ne va plus." How right he was, she thought. "Shopping
Around"
Tarrah strolled through the corridors of Starbase 12 humming softly to herself. She had a small garment bag slung over her shoulder and shopping bag with a new pair of shoes in her other hand. While the shops here on the starbase werent the best for shopping, they were better than anything she had had access to in a while. But weather she was back on Earth or out past the Porthor Nebular Expanse, shopping always seemed to make Tarrah hungry. So she angled over towards the dining facilities and chose one that appealed to her taste. After seeing to it that her purchases were sent back to the ship, Tarrah entered the small restaurant and began to look around for a table. When suddenly her gaze froze on a table near the back of the restaurant. Captain Spencer was sitting there with an attractive blond woman. They were laughing and smiling. And... That blond was placing her hand on David's arm! Tarrah stared in shock. This was unthinkable. She had decided to stop pursuing David so that he could get back together with Marie, not this other bimbo! Tarrah slipped back into the shadow and watched from a distance. It was obvious they were having a good time. "Hey, cadet, is that the captain?" The voice boomed behind Tarrah, she turned to see the door blocked by the huge frame of Lieutenant Witten. The engineer had been pushing an antigrav lift full of engineering equipment when he chose to grab a little bite himself. "Yeah, I guess it is." Tarrah muttered. "Well, I'll be," Witten exclaimed, "And that's Sonya Williams!" "You know her?" Tarrah's outburst was louder than she meant it, but no one else seemed to notice. "Sure, she and the captain use to be quite an item. It's nice to see them back together again." Witten began to walk over to their table. "Do you want to join us?" he asked the Orion yeoman. "No," Tarrah began to back away, "I have to go... I have to..." Suddenly she turned and darted out of the restaurant. Witten shrugged and proceeded to the table containing the Captain and Sonya Williams; where he invited himself to a seat and joined the happy couple. "Fortune
Cookie"
Thanks to following the doctor's orders, however begrudgingly, Tomoe's tailbone and bruised ribs had healed perfectly. After a lengthy amount of resting, light duty and a nonfat mocha latte with whipped cream on top twice a day, the Lt. Commander was ready for action again. Conveniently just in time for a bit of shore leave. As many of the crew had already reported, Starbase 12 was nothing to crow about. The nightlife was hardly different from what Tomoe remembered of Jupiter Station... a few diehard partiers busting a move on the dance floor, a tone-deaf woman screeching out some Centauran melody at the karaoke machine, and the ever-present available women lounging around the bar area. There were groups of people quietly taking a meal or drinking around tables, but no one Tomoe knew well enough to approach. After the ill-planned incident of "getting to know a random crew member at lunchtime", Tomoe decided not to corner any of the Republic crew members. It was enough that she had disturbed Ensign Larron's lunch during duty hours... butting in on someone's shore leave would be much more awkward. The dim ambiance of the lounge belied the vibrant buzz of conversation within its walls, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. Tomoe finally found a small empty table on the upper level and claimed it herself. A triangular menu slid up from the center of the table as she took her seat, the screen highlighting the specials of the day in animated holocolor. Tomoe chose shrimp chow mein and a rum-and-coke. "Interesting combination maybe, but it's _my_ shore leave," she mumbled to herself as the triangle slid back into its place. Now that she had a clean bill of wellness and nothing important to do, Tomoe was oddly looking forward to the opportunity to get blasted. There was that nagging bit of conscience that warned her not to make a fool of herself in front of her own crew _again_, but it was easy to suppress, especially when her order arrived and she'd taken a few sips of the drink. *Shore leave is about letting yourself down,* Tomoe reminded herself mentally as she took a big bite of her entree. *and I'm going to enjoy it.* 20 minutes later, the chow mein was finished, the rum-and-coke was long gone, and Tomoe was half finished with a Long Island iced tea. She was already beginning to feel the first effects of intoxication as she opened the obligatory fortune cookie. ACCEPT
THE NEXT PROPOSITION YOU HEAR.
Tomoe still held the slip of paper in her hands, densely trying to interpret the meaning of the message when a soft voice interrupted, "Mind if I join you?" That effectively derailed her train of thought. "Christophe." she acknowledged coolly as the speaker helped himself to the seat opposite her, without waiting for a reply. "Tomoeee," he greeted with considerably more enthusiasm. "It's been, what, almost 3 years now? Time does fly. What have you been up to?" "Enjoying my shore leave, alone, for the past 35 minutes," she replied, putting the fortune down on the table. Needless to say, Commander Christophe Lassen was not someone Tomoe was hoping to run into on this trip, or anywhere. There had been a time, back in the Academy... he was a class ahead of her, but they ended up being in lab together for Geology. Soon rocks were not all the two were sharing. Thanks to Christophe's privileged senior status and small private bunkroom, they were ripping the sheets at every opportunity. After his graduation he promised to stay in touch, but of course Tomoe never heard from him again, until an awkward moment in which his ship ended up in her docking bay on Jupiter Station. Which brought them to the present day. "Alone on shore leave? Tch..." Christophe chided. "And your glass is empty. Let's have a round of Flaming Giraffes," he announced to a passing waitress. Tomoe frowned, but her curiosity got the better of her more rational impulse to get up and leave. "Just one shot together, for old time's sake." Somehow, Christophe never managed to sound like he was begging. Before Tomoe could come up with a good reason not to, the layered brown and yellow drinks had arrived, in double shot glasses topped with a blue flame. With a sigh of mock resignation, Tomoe raised the glass to his, touching rims briefly, then blew out the flame and downed the potent liquid in a gulp. Both of them gasped for a silent moment before Tomoe regained her composure. "That was good." "I was a complete ass the last time on Jupiter," Christophe frowned. "Just seeing you then reminded me of how stupid I'd been to leave you in the dust like that, and I felt so guilty, I didn't know how to approach you. But I've grown since then. If you'll give me another chance, I don't want to lose you as a friend." Even through the fog of alcohol, Tomoe could tell where this was going. She listened patiently, though, just grinning stupidly. "... So, listen, do you want to go someplace a little more private and talk? I could show you my quarters on the Eisenhower, make you a cappucino before bed, maybe?" Tomoe stared down at the table. Her discarded fortune glared back up at her, the bold letters proclaiming "ACCEPT THE NEXT PROPOSITION YOU HEAR." Ironically, it was the first thing Christophe had actually asked her all evening. He didn't ask permission to sit down, ask about her life, or order her a drink, but he was asking now. Tomoe wasn't superstitious, but she had to admit the fortune cookie's advice was uncanny. She decided to take a chance on it. "Yes," she simply replied, slipping the fortune into her pocket as she rose from the table. |
