A/N: I've had one of the worst months ever… seriously. So I hope you'll forgive the horrendous delay on this chapter, I hope there are even still people out there reading this. (I updated one of my other stories yesterday and was greeted with almost deafening silence). I could really use some encouragement right about now, so I'll shamelessly beg for reviews.

Oh, also, I wanted to point out that Christine does not really have a drink problem… she's a student and has been kept on a short leash for way to long… let the girl have some fun… she'll get over the talking thing in time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters; I do own my OCs… yay!

It still felt like the strangest thing, this odd mixture of simply letting go, not thinking, and intense concentration, focusing on her goal while not being cerebral at all. She liked it; it was immensely liberating.

"Beautiful, my dear, keep it up."

Her instructor, a woman in her late 40s with that distinctly arty flair that only came with colourful silk scarves and too much silver jewellery, swept past behind Christine, glanced at the canvas on her esle and smiled indulgently.

Christine wasn't too sure if 'beautiful' was quite what she was going for, after all, the colours mainly used in her current painting were black and a glaring orange, but then again, she'd long since understood that everyone had the right to see just what pleased them as far as art was concerned.

What a shockingly non-deterministic view of the world… mother would be outraged, particularly since she views anything post mid-21st century as simply tasteless and vulgar.

A soft smile played across her lips as she contemplated what else her mother might deem 'vulgar'. Like the fact that she'd gone shopping with Gaila, Aureya, and Noyota the day before, and that they'd ended up in a lingerie boutique… turns out, there is such a thing as sexy underwear for severely pregnant women. Noyota had blushed furiously, hat stuttered something along the lines of 'oh my, well who'd have thought', and then had bought a little pale blue ensemble anyway. Gaila had practically cleared them out, and Aureya had to be wrestled into getting a sheer white shift with bright red panties.

"This is ridiculous… all that money, and they won't survive for more than 30 seconds." She'd huffed.

"That's the point, sweetie." Gaila's wicked little grin had made Eya blush and nod.

The complete absence of anything that could vaguely be described as a jealous pang had mildly surprised Christine.

Yup, that had definitely been more of a theoretical rather than an actual crush. Oh well.

She had, however, been a little hurt that nobody even suggested she go and pick something for herself; the silent understanding of all the things she did not discuss with the other women hung heavily over the racks of flimsy lace and satin. Robert was not going for another week, and Christine wondered whether her friends should not have suggested she surprise him before then; she was sure they would have, had it been anyone but her. The question of whether this was a judgment on her as a person, or merely her relationship with Robert lodged itself uncomfortably somewhere in the pit of her stomach. She decided she did not want to delve too deep.

Coming out of her reverie, she noticed that her painting had dramatically gained in black; frowning slightly, she added some red, and then a rather revolting shade of dirty yellow.

There! I think I'll call it 'Robert'… Oh Lord, I need psychiatric help.

"Very intense." Ms Loranza, her instructor, muttered thoughtfully from just behind her.

"Beautiful… but not happy, I think."

Turning, she gave the older woman a small smile, nodded and said rather quietly:

"No, not happy."

Well, apparently sometimes people did see what she put into something.

As she packed up her supplies and brought the finished canvas to the climate controlled drying room, she felt oddly peaceful. She was glad Shrem and Lily had talked her into taking up art classes, no matter how odd or dark her thoughts might be while she was working on a painting, she always felt cleansed afterwards, it was… therapeutic… meditative.

***

She'd decided to take some of her earlier pieces home that evening, they were fully dried and would bring some colour to what Shrem liked to call her 'decontamination chamber of a room'. She liked clean and tidy, but she supposed it could not hurt to make the whole thing a bit more comfortable. The giant multicoloured throw that Shrem had made her looked a little lost in the otherwise colourless room, and Christine had decided it couldn't hurt to give it some friends. She struggled a little with the bigger of the two canvases and had just sunk into what was becoming an embarrassing habit of limbo-shuffling towards her access pad, elbow extended, when Gaila's door slid open.

"Hey honey, need a hand there?" Not waiting for an answer, Gaila had clearly meant it as a rhetorical question, the younger woman grabbed both wrapped up parcels and smiled brightly at Christine.

"Thanks… Ahm, tea?" Christine still wasn't particularly eloquent with anyone but Shrem, but she was getting better.

"Dinner?" Gaila offered instead. "I got some really nice tubar root at the marked and some chicken, I sort of suck at cooking, but if the ingredients are OK, how hard can it be?"

They'd made it into Christine's apartment at this stage and Christine indicated her kitchen table so Gaila could set down the paintings.

"Pretty hard, actually… I suck too, I have experience with mucking up the best of ingredients." Christine smiled shyly and was pleased to hear Gaila laugh.

"Wanna suck together… and I mean that in the entirely food related, non oral sex kind of way."

Christine knew she'd just gone bug-eyed again. Gaila giggled and added:

"Not that you're not cute… in that whole new-born giraffe kind of way…"

"Ahhhm… thanks… I think?"

Fortunately Gaila chose that moment to change the subject:

"So, what are those?"

"Oh." Christine couldn't help the warm feeling of excitement spreading through her chest; she quickly unwrapped the two pieces and leaned them against her bed. She noticed she was holding her breath.

"Holy shit! Where did you get these?... And how expensive were they? Because I want one." There was a distinct fluttery sensation right where Christine's heart was and she couldn't help but smile widely. She just grabbed the larger (and in her opinion nicer) one of the two, and held it out to her neighbour:

"Here, it's yours."

It was Gaila's turn to look shocked.

"I can't accept that honey, it must have cost a fortune and I…"

"I painted it,… plenty more to come."

Gaila just stared in silence, something akin to reverence on her face. Christine's heart was still dancing the rumba, so she just grabbed the store-bought crème caramel she had in her fridge.

"So, dinner? You' all alone today… that's unusual."

Gaila caught herself and smirked:

"Shocking, isn't it?... and, ahm… I mean… thank you."

"Sure… you do know that you'll be inundated with paintings, right? Nobody's reacted this enthusiastically before."

"What can I say, I'm now officially your biggest fan."

---

They really did both suck at cooking. They barely managed not to burn the tubar root, which would have been an achievement, since it was boiled in plenty of water. The chicken ended up fully cooked but anaemic looking and rubbery in texture. The frozen broccoli turned out barely edible, since they forgot about it while debating where to hang Christine's painting, and it ended up being mushy and a distinct shade of grey.

The only thing vaguely enjoyable was the desert, and neither of them could claim credit for it. It might be noteworthy that by the time they actually had desert, they were into their second bottle of wine, so it could have been awful, really, at that stage it was anyone's guess.

"I miss Shrem… this would have been spectacular if he'd cooked it." Gaila stated rather wistfully.

"He's only at the other end of campus, Gaila." Christine noted, then thought about it some more and added:

"We should definitely have called him. I'm sure some people complement each other with their cooking skills, you know, two bad cooks being bearable together… but we clearly make each other worse."

For some inexplicable reason, Gaila found this hilarious. She deigned to clarify once her fit of giggles had subsided:

"I was just thinking how funny it is that you'd probably consider his cooking skills as his most impressive feature, whereas I know better."

This was followed by another fit of giggles and Christine just grunted:

"Seriously? That again? Why can't people shut up about that? I'm starting to feel a little sorry for him… Isn't that objectification?"

"Huh?'

"You know… the whole 'oh, he's a big boy' thing." Christine felt incredibly sheepish, and a little guilty, discussing Shrem's privates with his girlfriend.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about size, I was talking about technique, honey."

"Oh good, that's so much better." Christine muttered.

"You're not really offended, are you? I'm not making fun of him, I'm just…"

"This conversation is weird."

"Yea… hey, since we're having one of those, and since I'm sort of tipsy… can I ask you something?"

"Does it have something to do with Shrem's penis? 'Cause I really only know what Captain Taylor told me."

They both burst out laughing, and Christine couldn't help but feel a little smug at the success of her joke, even if she'd clearly just violated her own rule against objectifying Shrem.

My parents would both have strokes if they could hear this conversation.

"No, not really… or, well… a little… but only remotely."

"OK?"

"You're monogamous, right?"

"---"

"I mean, you don't sleep with anyone but Robert, right."

"Yes?"

"How is that?"

"Ahhm… are we talking about you or me here?"

"Me. Does it matter?"

"Yes… I mean, are you asking me because you think I shouldn't be monogamous, or because… of something else?"

"Something else."

"Gaila, you'll have to give me more than that."

"You're really unhappy, right… and I was wondering if that is because you only get to do the dirty with one guy, or because he is just the wrong guy… I was wondering if you think it would be OK if it was the right guy?"

"---"

"I'm sorry, Chris… did I just insult you?"

"Ahm… yes."

"Sorry." Gaila looked down at the glass of wine clasped in her hand, Christine thought she seemed oddly vulnerable and shy all of a sudden.

"Is it that obvious… I mean that I'm not hap…"

"Yes."

"Oh… who are you trying to dump?"

"I'm not trying to dump anyone… I mean, I know that you think of the two guys as my boyfriends, but they're not… we're… friends with benefits… I was just wondering if I maybe wanted one of them to be my boyfriend." She'd never heard the younger woman speak so quietly, sound so insecure.

"Which one?"

"Jim."

"---"

"Say something."

"Why would you want to not have sex with Shrem anymore… you were just joking about… ahm… you know…"

"I love Shrem… the same way I love Aureya, and possibly Pavel… they are my very best friends, and if you asked me to die for them, I probably would… and don't get me wrong, Shrem is phenomenal in the sack… technically and equipment-wise better than Jim… but I think I might feel differently about that stupid Terran idiot."

"Ahhmm…"

"I mean, sex is great… and if you have sex with someone you love it's even better… but if you're in love with someone… never mind… I'm talking complete nonsense here." Gaila stood up quite abruptly and began to clear the table. Feeling so far out of her depth that her brain currently resembled a mass of scrambled egg, Christine could think of nothing better to do but help.

It wasn't until all the dishes and pots were neatly put away, that her mind seemed to oblige her with coherent sentences again.

"You can't do that to Shrem. He's the sweetest person I know,… why would you…?"

"Oh honey, it's not like that. I know you still find it hard to look at things from someone else's perspective, but trust me, I wouldn't be hurting his feelings… I mean, sure, I'm bendy and have a rather talented tongue, but Shrem wouldn't have any problems replacing me… only where the sex is concerned… we'd love each other just the same… as friends, the way we always have." She gave a small snorty laugh and added:

"And I'm pretty sure he'd still cook for me, too, so, that's all good."

Christine couldn't help but frown deeply and feel supremely uncomfortable simply thinking about all of this.

"Chris, honey… I know how close you and Shrem are… I shouldn't have asked you." Gaila was chewing her lower lip now, giving her a rather doleful look.

"Do you still want an answer?" Christine queried, taking a large sip from the glass of wine she'd brought into the kitchen with her.

"Sure… please."

"I don't know, Gaila, I really don't. I actually think you might have more of a clue about this than me. Think about it… the first thing anyone seems to notice about my love life is that I'm horrendously unhappy… as if it's printed on my forehead or something… I haven't discussed Robert with anyone but Shrem, but still everyone knows… and I'm sure Shrem didn't tell you anything. Why would you even ask me?… I'm clearly the most clueless person around. You could have asked Nyo or Eya."

Gaila was silent, staring at her own glass once again.

"I think I know why you asked me anyway. Nyo and Eya would just have said 'yes', right?"

Gaila nodded:

"I don't think happy people make the best advisors."

"Deep… so you picked me, because you thought I'd be impartial?"

Another nod and silence.

"Gaila, I think you knew the answer before you asked me."

A rather hesitant nod, and:

"I'm sorry, Chris."

Christine downed the last of her wine in one large gulp, then gave her friend a small smile:

"It's alright… just don't hurt Shrem… I'd have issues with that."

Gaila smiled in return and tilted her head to the side.

"Can I ask you another one of those questions… you know, one of the ones where we both know the answer already?"

Christine just quirked her eyebrows but said nothing.

"Why is it that you think it's OK to be unhappy?,… Who on earth ever said you had to stay that way when you can help it?… And don't you have friends to tell you to suck it up and do something about it?"

The crooked grin on Gaila's lips told Christine that she was doing just that: being her friend and telling her to get over herself.

"Good night, Gaila, and thank you for dinner." Christine gave the other woman's arm an affectionate squeeze and was caught a little off guard when she caught her hand, pulled her towards her and put a small kiss on her lips.

"Orion custom, deal with it… and good night."

***

She'd barely slept the previous night, fragments of her rather odd conversation with Gaila replaying in her mind on an infinite loop. Her… friend had seemed so shy and insecure about her affections, demonstrating just how mistaken her initial judgment of her had been. Sure, she was all confidence and swagger when it came to sex, but she seemed just as fragile as any other girl when it came to love. And there was that word again: 'love', the one Christine was hiding from even more than the three letter one she now spoke of so regularly with her new friends: 'sex'.

Glad that it was Tuesday, a day where she had no lectures, and nursing her second cup of coffee, she sighed heavily and gave one of her determined little 'huh' sounds. Time to face some truths; if only tow hours of sleep, a slight hangover, and a decent dose of caffeine couldn't make her honest with herself, then what could?

Truth number one: She didn't love Robert… never had, and never would. She had been impressed, almost intimidated, by his academic brilliance, had been flattered by his interest in her, and had been too young and painfully shy to know how to refuse him… and then she'd been stuck.

Truth number two: She didn't like sex, but that was no reason to keep having it with a guy she didn't love. She was in no way ready to even contemplate if she'd have better sex with someone else… right now her priority had to be to stop having bad sex, full stop.

Truth number three: She was scared senseless… positively chicken shit… about attempting to change anything about her situation. She had done nothing but strive to please her family, and Robert, for so long, it felt entirely alien to her to do anything else.

The word 'alien' sort of made her smile.

Truth number four: She had friends now… the kind she'd never had before… people who liked her just the way she was, who made fun of her in the sort of way that told her they cared, and who wouldn't even blink if she decided to paint herself purple and insisted they all call her 'Oh-ye-great-aubergine-of-wisdom' from now on. Ok, so her friends were crazy, but that was sort of her point.

Truth number five: She loved Starfleet, loved everything about it. She loved her classes, becoming a nurse, the supplementary art course she was taking, the knitting circle… everything. They would have to drag her away from her in a coffin.

This made her think of Will, and how she had come for him, because of him, but also how this had stopped being only about him, and now was so much about herself.

So, she had a third cup of coffee, which made her sort of jittery… or had she been like that already?... showered and got dressed – opting for something low cut because she knew he would hate it – and made her way to the campus shuttle port. She'd looked up the departure times on her PAD, and the next craft leaving for Boston was scheduled for 1140 hours. She was paying Robert a surprise visit after all… only it would most definitely not involve skimpy panties.

---

It had never occurred to her how strange it was that she had only been to Robert's laboratory a handful of times. Approximately four or five visits in nine years should have seemed oddly little to her. He had insisted that she would only distract him, and that he did not like mixing the professional with the personal, and the girl she had been had accepted this without question… it was a little scary to realise how much she had changed in the few months she'd been in Starfleet.

A voice in her head, sounding suspiciously like Gaila, just shrieked a very loud:

"Woooo-hoooo!"

Correction: Her friends were turning her crazy.

Somehow she managed to bypass the receptionist, she wasn't in the mood to fill out forms, explain herself, or have Robert dodge her somehow. She remembered the way to his office well enough, and as she exited the turbo lift on his floor, she wondered if she shouldn't have stopped off for a drink somewhere… both for liquid courage – she was so much more fluent and eloquent when she'd had something to drink – and to irritate Robert further.

Right, might have a mild alcohol problem here… and why am I trying to make him angry again?

As it turned out, she was fine without the alcohol, and even without the extra incentive of an infuriated and therefore even more unbearable Robert. She opened the door to his office, not bothering to knock… which, in hindsight she wouldn't be able to explain, it was just one of those fortunate things that were uncharacteristic but oh so fortunate… entered the room and stopped in her tracks.

Robert was leaning backwards on his desk, his head back, his eyes closed, and his pants around his ankles. A woman in a white coat, her back to Christine, was kneeling between his legs, and judging from the fact that her head was bobbing up and down and slurping noises were coming from where Robert's crotch was obscured from view by the enthusiastically swaying head of light brown hair, Christine ventured that she had arrived at a rather inopportune moment.

Neither of the two had noticed her as yet.

What was it with her and walking in on people having sex and being inevitably ignored?

At this point Robert started to make little grunting noises, the ones he usually emitted just before cuming. Christine sneered.

It was pretty much at this stage that she realised that she did not feel what she was presumably supposed to feel. She was a little disgusted, somewhat irritated at having to witness this, but she was most definitely not hurt… as a matter of fact, there was a certain lightness, a distinct sense of curious disinterest spreading through her. As Robert's grunts became louder, Christine thought it prudent to clear her throat. A number of things happened simultaneously after that: Robert's eyes shot open, he scrambled for his trousers, all the while cupping his privates, and the woman in front of him got to her feet so fast, she stumbled backwards a little; her mouth was in the shape of a small 'o', and Christine wondered if that was because she was surprised, or because it was still shaped according to where it had just been. She noted the rather obvious youth of the woman, assuming that she could not be more than 20 and must be a student intern at the lab.

Oh well, he'd always like them young.

"Christine!" Robert sounded breathless and a little scandalised, as if he was somehow blaming her for walking in on him. And then the most amazing thing happened: Christine began to laugh; and it was genuine, not frustrated, hysterical laughter, but amusement, and relief, and a healthy appreciation for the ridiculous all mixed into one.

"Christine?"

She briefly marvelled at his eloquence, then pulled herself together, and with one final low giggle told him earnestly:

"Robert, thank you. I've been agonising over the conversation I was planning on having with you today, but you've just made things so much easier."

Who needs alcohol? I'm talking just fine.

Slipping the rather large diamond ring from her left hand, she placed it carefully on his desk beside him. She gave him a curt nod, smiled almost pityingly at the young woman, and left. She figured she'd made things pretty clear.

She arrived back in her apartment two hours later, exhausted but strangely giddy; she had not stopped smiling the entire way back.

Yup, I definitely need psychiatric help.

Checking her fridge for wine (as usual there wasn't any… better raid Gaila's), she noticed the small indicator light on her com screen was blinking: she had a message.

"Computer, relay saved data."

As the screen came to life Robert's face appeared:

"Christine, I don't know what you were thinking arriving at my office unannounced, all I can say is that what you witnessed was of no importance. You must be aware that the rather irregular and somewhat unsatisfactory physical relationship we share is not enough to alleviate my urges… it is perfectly understandable that I would look elsewhere. Perhaps if you were more accommodating… well, be that as it may… you have been overly emotional and irrational as of late, so I will be lenient and overlook your outburst of today. I will keep your engagement ring safe until my return from Tellar, when you will indubitably have come to your senses… Think of your parents, Christine. I will speak to you soon."

She was just staring at the now once again transparent screen, mouth open, eyes wide. For lack of anything better to do, she just burst out laughing again, then muttered under her breath:

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

When she'd recovered, wiping a tear of mirth from her cheek, she plopped down on her bed with a distinct feeling of happy "now what?". She tried to pinpoint this odd sense of relief, of weightlessness she'd felt right from the very moment she'd set that ring down on Robert's desk… and just like that it came to her: "freedom."

She felt a wide grin spread across her face as she got up, walked out of her apartment and beeped the pad across he hall.

"Hi sweetie, you look happy." Gaila beamed as her door slid open.

"I am… got any wine?"

"Sure."

"Cool."

A/N: I'm in dire need of reviews… seriously. Oblige me?