AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dialogue is from "Fight or Flight," written by Rick Berman and Brannon Braga. Beta'd by resenpeace.
Hoshi almost lost her nerve when she stepped into the ready room and saw the captain on his knees and T'Pol standing there watching him. If it had been any other woman on board, Hoshi would have thought she had interrupted something private. She might even have felt jealous. But Jon and T'Pol? Yeah, right. She knew how much he distrusted Vulcans. Besides, he had called out permission to enter at the sound of the door chime.
It was still terribly awkward, though. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, her gaze going from Jon to T'Pol and back to Jon.
Before Hoshi could retreat, T'Pol said to the captain, "I'll leave you to your exploring."
As T'Pol stalked out, Hoshi took a deep breath. If she wanted to get through this, she couldn't dwell on the fact that Jon had at one time been something more than a friend. That included thinking of him by his first name. From now on, he was her superior officer. Nothing more.
He climbed to his feet, graceful for such a tall man. It was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place.
"Trip tells me Sluggo's not faring too well," he said as went to sit in his desk chair.
His reference to the small, slug-like creature added to her discomfort. The captain had indulged her whim by allowing her to bring back a pet, sort of, from a planetoid. That Sluggo wasn't doing well didn't surprise her. That's the way her luck had been going ever since she had set foot on the ship. "No, sir, but the doctor's doing the best he can." She rushed on, anxious to get to the point of her visit, and determined to keep the conversation on a professional level. "Sir, my quarters are on E deck, starboard section five."
He knew where her cabin was if, as she suspected, he was the one responsible for her quarters being on the same deck as his. She was just a short walk past the mess hall and around the deflector dish compartment from him. That was what had made the two weeks since they had dropped Klaang off on the Klingon homeworld so confusing. Not once had Jon... the captain, she corrected herself... visited her quarters.
"Yes?" he asked as he turned away, becoming engrossed in something on a data PADD.
His disinterest could be a sign that he was over her. Too bad she hadn't realized that when he had said he needed her on his ship. He really, truly had meant he needed her linguistic ability, and not a return to the more personal relationship they'd had before her teaching stint in Brazil. She'd tried to beg off at that time, saying she couldn't leave her students, not sure she wanted to be stuck in an interstellar tin can with him for who knew how long if he no longer reciprocated her feelings.
He had known how to hook her, however. The prospect of learning a new alien language had been too good to pass up. She had hoped when he had asked her to join his crew there might be a chance that-
He was staring at her, waiting for her to explain.
"The stars are going the wrong way, sir," she told him.
He looked at her with a quizzical frown. "Wrong way?"
"On both my training tours, I had port-side quarters," she explained. "I'm having trouble sleeping."
He took her statement literally. That was an endearing quality of his. He rarely suspected subterfuge or artifice of anyone, much less her. "Because you're on the-"
"The wrong side of the ship. Yes, sir," she said, knowing she would break down if he showed her any sympathy, or worse, condescension. Then he would want to know what was the real problem. "I spoke with Ensign Porter. He said he's willing to switch, with your permission."
Porter's cabin was the port side, but two levels up on C deck. Of all the crewmen who had been willing to trade with her, his had been the farthest away from the captain's.
"You got it," he said with a smile. "Can't have my comm officer-" A squeaking sound came from below the deck plating, drawing his attention away from her for a moment. "-falling asleep on the bridge."
So that's what he had been doing on the floor when she had come in, she realized. He was trying to find the source of the annoying noise. It also explained T'Pol's sarcastic comment about exploring.
Hoshi managed a small smile, more at the boyish inquisitiveness on his face as he tried to track the squeak than for granting her request. "I appreciate it, Captain."
She continued to stand there, hoping he would object to her change in cabins. She couldn't bring herself to broach the real reason for her cabin change. She would make a fool of herself if she did. He would realize that she had never gotten over him. That would be worse than him being unaware of how much she loved him.
"Is there something else, Hoshi?" he asked.
There was a trace of impatience in his tone. He was probably getting tired of reassuring her at every turn. Maybe he was even regretting asking her to be one of his crew. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to take her home, but she couldn't do it.
"No, sir," she said. "Thank you."
She turned to leave, but at the door she looked back at him just as another squeak came from below the deck plating. She smiled a bit, wondering if that squeak was going to drive him crazy, just like all the sounds from the ship that no one but her seemed to be able to hear were making her jumpy.
Probably not, she decided as she walked out. He would find what was causing the problem and have it fixed. That's the way he was. There was, unfortunately, no way to fix how she felt about him.
She sighed as she walked down the corridor. The stars were definitely going in the wrong direction for both of them.
