AN - "Dylan's yellow shirt, I can't stand it. It's too yellow for me. The only yellow thing I approve next to him is Kallan's blond hair." Technoboyager – thank you for the muse.
Yellow, Kallan wrinkled her nose as she curled a lock of hair around her finger. A thoughtful expression encompassed her face. Watching her image in the bathroom mirror Captain James sighed. People try to tell me it's golden or blond, but in the end it's just this horrible shade of yellow. I've tried to dye it, bleach it, cut it and hide it, nothing works. No matter what you call it, I hate the colour.
Pulling the offending strands into a ponytail, Captain James secured it behind her head with an elastic band. Inside her helmet this style would be impossible. Today she'd managed a rare day off while the rest of the team tested a new component on TB6. Dressed in the oldest outfit she owned, Kallan prepared for a long day's work. The apartment desperately needed a spring clean.
While the boys are away I might get all the domestic jobs done that I've put off. Glancing at the now clean cupboards in the bathroom, Kallan hoisted a box of items to be thrown away. Who would have thought I've collected so much in the last five years?
Walking back into the bedroom, Kallan attacked the closet filled with civilian clothing she rarely got to wear. Almost constantly on call, Captain James couldn't remember the last time she'd been out of uniform for any length of time, except to sleep. Starting at the top, she pulled every item out and piled it on the bed.
Eight years ago she'd graduated from university with not one but two separate degrees. The IRO offered her a place at flight school in the summer of 2078 to complement her flight engineering program. After passing top of her class, Commander Greg Simpson wanted her to come on board a new project with four other young officers. They'd worked with C-core designers and technicians to create the Thunderbird vehicles for two years. Another three passed as they tested and refined the equipment. Finally the TB team went live. Life had been a rollercoaster ever since.
'We've been active three years,' Kallan spoke into the empty room to relieve the gathering silence. 'In that time, I think I've managed as many dates. Every time I get close, an emergency call comes in and off we go. You'd think I'd have learnt not to buy clothing I'll never need. I'm always in uniform. At least that's how it feels.'
Pulling out the red and white jumpsuits which gave away her unique position, she stored them at one end of the rack. Pulling her unofficial boyfriends uniforms from the pile, she placed them at the other end of the closet. Picking out her clothing, Kallan became ruthless as she discarded item after item.
'If I ever move back into my quarters in the barracks,' she smiled, knowing it would never occur, 'there won't be room for all this stuff.'
Initially each of the Thunderbird team had been assigned quarters at C-core. As the testing commenced, they flew back and forth between the sites, each living in the officer's mess at Acrology. Jesse soon felt hemmed in by restrictions, Grant needed an apartment for his family and Dylan hated the lack of windows to the outside world. They'd requested and been granted accommodations close to IRO central.
'Not that I stayed in the barracks much longer,' Kallan smiled at the memory. Officially she still resided in her quarters. In reality, Captain James hadn't stepped foot inside her billet in five years. 'I need to give it up,' she lamented, glancing around the room which held her personal items alongside those of her very unofficial boyfriend. As far as the general public were aware, Captain Kallan James remained single. 'We'd never spend any time together if I moved back to the officer's mess. It's hard enough now, maintaining a relationship that's not sanctioned by the IRO. Every date we've attempted in the last three years has either been cut short or cancelled due to work.'
'Oh,' she'd nearly placed the horrid yellow sweater back in the closet. 'This just has to go.' Rolling her eyes, Kallan knew she couldn't just throw it out, as much as she might want too. Someone, her mind supplied, will be offended if I throw away any of their clothing. Against her better judgement, Captain James placed the awful item on a hanger and left it on the bed. 'I've never seen this on you in all the years I've known you,' Kallan spoke aloud, thankful her other half didn't wear it around his apartment.
'That's because,' a voice emanating from the doorway startled her, 'I didn't think you'd appreciate me wearing a gift from another woman.'
'You're home early,' Kallan flew into her lover's arms.
'The job didn't take a long as we thought,' he replied, eyes surveying the room after he'd returned the greeting. It looked like a bomb hit it.
'Well,' Kallan held up the jumper. 'Going to tell me about the woman who brought this for you or do I need to torture it out of you?'
Wanting to say no, he noticed the determined look in his girlfriend's eyes. 'You have seen that on me.'
Straining to remember, Kallan thought back over their association. Recalling the event, Captain James knew exactly who'd brought the sweater. Smiling, she didn't have any concerns about the woman becoming part of her boyfriend's life once again. 'You've had it a while then?'
'Since school,' he confirmed. 'I've worn it twice since I've known you. I remember your reaction the first time you saw it.'
'You know I hate yellow in general but especially on you,' Kallan slipped into his embrace.
'I don't know,' he smiled back, allowing a his hand to release the ponytail, 'I always thought yellow looked pretty good on me, so long as it's attached to you.'
In that instant, seeing how entwined their lives had become, Kallan decided to go for broke. 'The only yellow thing I want to see on you again,' she removed his hand and brought it up between them, 'is a ring on this finger.'
'That's gold, Kallan,' Dylan laughed, 'and I think I'll have to start wearing one soon, but,' he watched the mixture of emotions play across her face, 'only if you agree to wear one too.'
'Where will that leave us "officially"?' she asked, aware the IRO frowned on officers in the same service entering into relationships. It'd been the reason she continued to keep her quarters and an unofficial boyfriend.
'Married,' Dylan cupped her face.
Before he could lean in and kiss Kallan, the tri-D sounded. 'Incoming,' Dylan frowned. The tone meant an official communication from headquarters. Captain James moved out of the way so Captain Beyda could accept the call.
'Grant,' Dylan looked confused. He'd left his teammate not more than ten minutes earlier.
'I'm looking for Kallan,' the older man spoke gruffly. 'Don't try and tell me she's not there. We all know the two of you have been living together for years now.' Stepping into the picture, Captain James finished pulling on her uniform. 'The techs have been trying to reach you all morning. There's an issue with TB13's sonar and they want you down there now. I don't know why the two of you just don't make it official. You're not fooling anyone and haven't been for about four years now.'
'Funny you should say that, Grant,' Dylan slung an arm around Kallan, 'we were just discussing the only yellow thing I liked on me.'
'What,' Grant's mind boggled, 'would that be?'
'Kallan,' Dylan smirked. 'Although Kallan seems to think a couple of wedding bands might be called yellow.'
Laughing, Grant fingered his own ring. 'I don't care what colour you two chose, just make it soon. Commander Simpson's been giving me a hard time about your unofficial relationship. I've been delaying talking to the pair of you about it. Now, if you're married, there's not a thing he can do. Just remember officially, you can't wear your rings while on active duty. I suggest you keep it with your dog tags.'
'We'll try to remember that, Grant,' Kallan winked, leaving the mess behind her in the bedroom. 'Looks like you get to do the rest of the spring clean, Dylan. Duty calls.'
'Well?' Grant crossed his massive arms.
'Well what?' Dylan seemed perplexed.
'When's the big day?' Grant managed to hold on to his humour. 'It's taken the two of you five, almost six years to come out of the closet. I hope the wedding going occur before I retire.'
'The minute Dylan gives up the horrid yellow jumper,' Kallan's voice echoed from the hall, 'and gets someone to make it official. Tell the jeweller my finger is 14mm in diameter and I hate yellow.'
'Be over in ten,' Grant signed off with a gruff chuckle.
An hour later, Dylan had been talked into a pair of platinum wedding bands by the sales assistant and reassured by Grant they met official standard. 'No way,' Captain Beyda stated, surprised by the dent they'd made in his bank account, 'Kallan can mistake those for yellow.'
'You just keep telling your soon to be wife,' Grant clapped the younger man on the back, 'her hair is the only yellow thing she's ever likely to see on you, and you'll be right.'
