Rating: PG
Summary: This is an epilogue to the episode, "The Brink," set immediately after the closing scene with Frank and Olga.
Feedback is most excellent. :-)
by Trekkieb
Olga Vukavitch walked across the large hanger with determined strides, knowing without a doubt that Parker would follow.
"Olga! Olga, come on, wait up."
She was right.
She stopped halfway to the exit but didn't immediately turn around. Only when Frank caught up and lightly grabbed her arm did she turn.
"Yes?" she asked innocently, peering up at him with raised eyebrows.
"What was that about back there?"
"What?"
"You know what. . .about your dream. . .the mistake you made."
"Not now."
"Why not now?" he cajoled.
"Because."
"Please?"
"No," she said firmly, staring at her shoes.
"But I want to know!" When that got no response, he tried another tactic. "I told you about my dream; it's only fair that you tell me about yours. . . ."
"Mr. Parker, that's not going to work. Besides, I really don't think it's appropriate --"
"To hell with appropriate!" He moved both hands to her shoulders and ducked his head a little to meet her down-turned gaze. "After what we've just been through, not to mention everything else in the past, I think it's about time we crack open a couple bottles of beer and spill a few deep, dark secrets." He paused and added, "Don't ya think?"
She turned her head away from him, placed one hand on her hip, and chewed on the inside of her bottom lip as she debated whether or not to divulge the "mistake" her older self had made in her electricity-induced vision. Finally, she met his pleading, curious gaze and her resolve melted. She sighed, then wagged an index finger in front of Parker's chest. "All right. But you have to promise not to laugh or make any jokes. Promise?"
Frank smiled and crossed himself. "Cross my heart and hope to die." She didn't look convinced, so he added, "Stick a needle in my eye."
"Yes, well, don't tempt me." She ran a hand through her tousled red hair, then let it fall to her side, shrugging out of Parker's grasp as she did so. "In my vision, I -- my older self -- was looking at a picture of us -- you and me -- and regretted. . . regretted. . . ."
"Yes. . .?"
"Not taking the chance when she had the opportunity."
"What chance?"
"What chance?" she repeated, then realized what he was up to. "You're going to make me spell it out aren't you?"
He grinned delightedly. "Yep."
Olga sighed again and looked down, wishing she didn't have to actually say the words. "She -- I -- regretted not taking the chance with you. You and me. As in us. There, are you satisfied?"
There was no immediate response, and after waiting about five seconds, Olga looked up. Parker wore a thoughtful look on his face.
Suddenly a little nervous at the silence, Olga rushed on, "I was looking at this picture – and I had no one in my life to care about -- and I realized that my being alone was entirely my fault. And I don't want to be all by myself when I'm eighty, and you don't really think I'm cold and heartless, do you?"
Shocked at how much she'd let slip out, Olga pressed a hand to her mouth in mortification. She hadn't intended -- ever -- to tell Parker about that part of her dream.
Frank blinked and processed the sudden barrage of words, and then smiled, a soft smile that eased her embarrassment somewhat. He gently pried her hand away from her mouth and squeezed it with his own hand. "Olga, Olga, what are you saying? Cold and heartless? You? Never," he whispered. "Just the opposite. And I have a hard time picturing you -- you -- being alone. Even at eighty, I'm sure you'll still be just as beautiful."
Her breath caught in her throat at the sincere words, and before she could say something in response, Frank leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
She stared at him as he pulled away and released her hand. Forcing her thoughts into coherence, she cleared her throat and said, "Thank you, Mr. Parker."
He grinned at her and tilted his head. "You know, I think it's about time you started calling me Frank."
They'd known each other for over two years, and in all that time she had never called him by his first name. She called the others by their first names: Bradley, Craig, Isaac… But never Mr. Parker. She supposed it was a way of maintaining a professional relationship between the two of them, keeping a distance. Now, here, she wondered why.
"Thank you. . .Frank," she said.
They stood there for a moment, and then Frank broke the silence by asking, "So, does this mean you'll go out with me? I mean, now that we're on a first name basis and all. . . ."
Raising a hand in exasperation, Olga shook her head and began walking the rest of the way across the hanger.
As she walked around the corner, she heard Frank, standing where she'd left him, call out, "Is that a yes? Olga? Olga?"
And she smiled.
~finis~
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