Michael awoke on the queen sized bed. The long light blue bed sheets. The dark blue bed. The light blue pillows. The bedroom a mix of this and that from tastes of both people. The quarters were different from the Discovery. She leaned up, looking in both directions, seemingly at a loss. This was the shared bedroom that she once had with Georgiou. A painful memory of seeing the captain stabbed by T'Kuvma reached forward into the now. She heard a shower running. A familiar old fashioned shower that used synthesized water. She was dreaming or she had been using a recreation of the shared quarters.
A faint memory of Tilly joining her came to. She wasn't alone. Michael stood up from the bed. She felt along her chest to feel the star fleet delta. The cold, flat attachable surface to the uniform. She looked down to see the familiar bright gold deltas. She was frozen where she stood as she slowly looked up. She wasn't allowed to have a Star Fleet delta. She was court martialed and stripped of rank for starting a war. The faces of the star fleet officers were barely memorable in the dark fog of grief. She zipped her uniform up heading in the direction of the shower. She can hear Philippa's familiar old, beautiful singing with her long missed accent. Each step forward felt like a eternity. She came to the door of the bathroom then walked forward. The doors opened. She walked into bathroom. Through the steam on the glass she can see the woman's figure waving from side to side.
"Philippa?" Michael asked.
"Yes, Michael?" Philippa's voice came. Her figure had stopped waving in the steam.
"What happened to the unknown object?" Michael asked, coming closer to the shower.
"It left after we retrieved you," Philippa stuck her head out. "Are you alright, babydoll?" the older woman looked at the younger woman out of concern. She stepped out of the shower that continued to run. Michael came toward the woman. Her hands instinctively went to her cheeks. Her heated, well carved cheeks that were thriving with life. "Did you have a bad dream again?"
"Philippa," Michael said, bringing the woman closer into a hug. "I thought I lost you."
"You would never lose me," Philippa said.
"I dreamed I lost you, " Michael said. She broke the hug with the captain. "I dreamed I was responsible for your death, a war break out because of it, a strange shady captain named Lorca brought me back on a Crossfield ship called the Discovery, we used mushrooms to get to places instantly, and ten thousand three hundred forty people dead because of me." It felt real. Philippa didn't feel like a figment of her imagination. It was real. "It felt vividly real."
Philippa gave Michael that familiar warm, kind smile.
The kind and understanding.
"I told you to stop writing about your dreams," Philippa said.
"You were right . . . " Michael said, emotionally. "T'hy'la."
Phillippa placed a hand on the woman's darker cheeks.
"I am here. . . I am here. . . I am here. . ." Philippa repeated, as the usually composed woman was tearing up.
The comforting words steadied the first officer. Michael closed her eyes feeling the hand cupping the side of her cheek. Michael covered the captain's hand with her own. It was disturbing to see Philippa's well put together partner so broken up and upset because of a dream. Just seeing that Philippa was alive was bringing a emotional response out of the normally non-emotional woman. Michael opened her eyes.
"I don't want to leave you," Michael said.
Philippa smiled back with her wet hand on the woman's waist.
"Babydoll," Philippa said, stroking Michael's cheek. "What makes you think I am sending you to a new ship?" Michael's demeanor changed. "I am never going to leave you alone to hog all the fun," Philippa kindly smiled back. "I think Star Fleet can handle a Admiral living with her wife."
Michael nodded, slowly, as her tears began to dry.
"Star Fleet can," Michael said. "There are no rules regarding it."
Philippa's hand went down from the woman's cheek to the woman's free hand laid to her side then she slowly guided the woman into the shower. Michael slipped off her jacket discarding it to the floor including her pants. Philippa's back struck the wall to the shower. The water soaked Michael's regulation shirt against her skin. They looked at each others eyes with their foreheads pressed together. Philippa's arms were on the woman's shoulder. Michael leaned forward to plant a kiss that was returned by Philippa. From the bridge, Saru was requesting the two, and he was largely ignored. Saru shook his head with a sigh and waited, patiently for the two.
The End.