I think I've fallen in love with this redhead. Reviews greatly appreciated.
It wasn't as if I wanted him to ignore me. I really did love Jimmy. I loved him like a sister and a friend, like something that I thought we'd share forever. But I was a fool. It was only later when I found out that his first love is always for space. Always. And me? I was just a pawn. Something he used and tossed aside like a spare uniform. I'm not bitter. I don't think. It's just…painful. I'm not used to rejection. My physiology prevents that. But he…he was different. All types of different.
I saw him in the mess hall one day. He was sitting down on a bench near the door, ready to spring to action, taking in one of the rare times he was actually off-duty. The Captain never sleeps, but sometimes he'll come down and pretend he's not a Captain. This particular instance, he's there with Dr. McCoy—Bones—and they're talking. Reminiscing. Bones makes a remark about the exam and Nero, Jimmy laughs, and then the two lean back on the stool, comfortable around each other.
Jimmy catches my eye, and for the first time, I flush, not exactly wanting him see me. He winks at me and then continues chewing thoughtfully on his apple. It's silly, but I look back down to my soup and take a dainty sip. When I look up again, Jimmy is focused solely on Bones and whatever they're talking about. He's discarded me.
Nyota and I are still good friends, and every so often we'll have lunch together. She's more bubbly and confident than when she was at the Academy. I'm envious of her easy grace and the way her ponytail bobs up and down when she talks—my own hair is notoriously unruly. She's so at home with Jimmy, and the bridge. We chat and catch up, but often I'm called for computer repairs and coding problems with the mainframe during our sporadic lunches, and eventually we stop. Nyota returns to her world, the bridge, and I return to mine, making sure that the central computer keeps everything in line and the ship afloat in space.
It's a different world up there. They're confident and notorious. Easy around each other. The one time I saw them on the bridge, Nyota would joke with Jimmy, each playfully throwing out insults like siblings. Chekov would mutter under his breath and respond almost haltingly with Jimmy, but he's part of the group. Sulu focuses on flying—that's his job, after all—but he spars verbally with the Captain and with Nyota with a careful ease, flinging back verbal spars while keeping his eyes focused ahead, always ahead. When I'm done delivering my status report, Jimmy winks at me again, easily, but maintains his focus on the ship. He hasn't said one single word to me, leaving me to feel like I'm talking to a brick wall, but Spock nods at me, and I hand him my PADD. Nyota blows me a friendly kiss and we arrange the time of our next meeting. As the lift closes, the bridge falls into a silence. It's a silence that's familiar to me down in the lab. Everyone grows quiet because there's nothing to talk about at that moment, but someone will spill a comment out into the silence and soon the conversation will begin again—just not yet.
It's the silence with Jimmy that's the most disturbing. I don't know if he's maintaining silence because I'm something he's ashamed. I don't know if he's silent with me because he's too preoccupied with being the Captain, and I'm just one of the people under his command and I can't talk to him about us. I miss that the most. We'd lie on the lawn in front of the library and we'd talk. We'd sit on the beach after running and we'd talk. To not speak to him is the worst from our failed relationship. He came back from Vulcan changed, and I had to change because of it.
And it's because I said too much.