True Beliefs

By Laura Schiller

Based on: The Orville

Copyright: Fox

/

Kelly almost turned to go, but one last look at Ed held her in place.

The way he sat at his desk, with his jacket unzipped and his chin in his hand, with a faraway look in his brown eyes, surrounded by keepsakes as quirky and eclectic as his crew – from precious antique paper books to a Kermit plushie – was so typical for him. She must have seen him that way a million times and taken it for granted, but one year of living alone had reminded her of everything she missed.

As embarrassing as it was to be the unwitting object of worship for an entire civilization, it did force you to think about the consequences of your actions. Breaking the Union's non-interference policy was a mistake she couldn't make up for … but breaking Ed's heart was another matter.

He had asked her on a date. He wanted her back. If she was honest with herself, part of her had wanted this all along, or she would never have volunteered to be his First Officer. Watching him fall for Pria Levesque had made her sick to her stomach. And as for Darulio … the less she thought about that, the better.

"You're wrong, you know," she said.

"About what?" He braced himself visibly as if for another fight. Normally she loved their arguments, but today it just made her sad; was she really so aggressive that he was always expecting her to attack?

"When you covered for me with the Admiral … it wasn't because your judgment was compromised," she said. "It's because you're the most loyal person I've ever known. You would've done the same thing for any one of your crew. You did do the same thing for Alara when she saved us from the Calivon Zoo against Admiral Halsey's orders."

Ed blushed at the unexpected compliment and looked down at his desk. "C'mon, she saved our asses. I couldn't let her take the fall."

"Exactly. And when we were in that cage about to be killed, do you remember what we did?"

"Besides squabbling like something out of a bad reality show?"

"Besides that." It was her turn to blush. "We held on to each other. Nothing else mattered then – no military protocols, no fights, not even our divorce. I looked at you and I thought: If we have to die, at least we're together. That's all." She circled around behind the desk, took hold of his forearms just like she had done in the cage, and pulled him to his feet.

"Wow … " He gave her his self-deprecating schoolboy grin. "That's what you thought? And there I was scrambling for famous last words and coming up with Elvis Presley's I'm going to the bathroom."

She laughed. God, how she'd missed his sense of humor during their year apart, even when it drove her crazy.

"My point is," she said, "If hating each other hasn't stopped us from being a kickass command team, I don't think loving each other will stop us either."

"I never hated you." He squeezed her arms and drew her a little closer.

She cocked her head. "C'mon, really?"

"Yeah, okay, I may have literally run screaming from the bridge when I first saw your name on the manifest … but I wouldn't have reacted that way if I didn't still care. I never stopped caring, Kel."

No one else in the universe could get away with calling her that. She closed the last few centimeters of distance between them with a kiss.

Kissing Ed was like dancing or sparring; even if her mind forgot, her body remembered. The taste of him, the feel of his arms around her, even that awkward moment when they bumped up against the desk, were so familiar that it was almost like being young ensigns on their first date again. Except that back then, she'd had no idea of how lucky they really were.

They broke apart and smiled at each other. Kelly wondered if her smile was anywhere near as silly as his, and decided it didn't matter.

"So, um … can I get you a drink?" he asked, gesturing at the synthesizer behind him.

"Something non-alcoholic, please. I want to be sober tonight." She enjoyed a good whiskey as much as anyone, and could drink most of her crewmates – her human crewmates, anyway – under the table, but this wasn't the time for that. Whatever happened between her and Ed tonight, she wanted to remember every second.

"Two hot chocolates," Ed said to the machine, which lit up and produced two steaming cups. He handed her one with a playful little bow. "O Great and Mighty Kelly, please accept this sacrifice."

"You'll never let me hear the end of that, will you?" She took a sip of her chocolate and let out a hum of satisfaction. He still had the synthesizer programmed to make it the way she liked it, with a spiral of cream and a dusting of cinnamon.

"Never. It's too good a joke. You know I'll worship you any way you like, right?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She swatted him on the arm with her free hand.

"Careful, or this chocolate's gonna end up in your lap."

"You'd never waste a good drink like that."

"Fair enough."

They clinked their cups together in a peacemaking toast.

It tasted of new beginnings.