- "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." –
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
„Better?" Chris asked, a hand on the small of Leonard's back, after they'd stepped out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.
"Next time, could you warn me before making any of these announcements? Please?" Leonard asked weekly. "Cause spluttering my drink all over the table in front of Admiral Reed would have been really embarrassing."
Chris turned to face him, a smile lighting up his eyes. "Okay," he agreed pleasantly, "next time, I'll warn you."
"Which precludes the possibility of there not being a next time," Leonard murmured, quoting Spock, "Chris, you'll have to give me some time to adjust to this. You just went from Shakespearean drama to Hollywood's happily-ever-after in no time." He looked up, unsure what more to say or to do.
God, I love you so much. And now it's like I'm dreaming, and you're standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I don't know how to react.
"We'll have all the time in the world," Chris promised, and his words made Leonard's heart do a little somersault inside his chest. "Will you come with me?"
"Where?" Leonard asked, but actually, he didn't care. The with-me-part was all that mattered.
Chris smiled at him. "Home," he said softly and Leonard was caught in that smile, and blinded by it.
Beautiful, so beautiful…
"Yes." But then mischief caught up with him and he added: "You know, that's the second time tonight I get invited by an admiral. So what's next? The President asking me over for breakfast?"
"Screw the President," Chris replied, scowling and moving closer until he was almost too close for Leonard to breathe without wanting to fall right into his arms. "He didn't just spend the most agonizing few days of his life cursing himself, just because some teenage-misfit-turned-Captain thought he had to re-enact Shakespeare."
"Jeez, you really are mad at Jim, aren't you?"
"I usually don't threaten people with death if I'm not mad at them. That's more of a Jim-thing to do."
"Huh. Guess there's no use trying to persuade you to spare him, then."
"No."
"The most agonizing days of your life, Chris? Really? You know, that's pretty melodramatic and I bet, spending time with Nero was a lot worse…"
"The only good thing about physical pain is that there's a limit to it. At a certain point, it doesn't get any worse – you either die, pass out or get hit with a painkiller, and that's it. There are other forms of suffering, though."
Leonard was quiet, shivering slightly as he contemplated what Chris had just said and how to react to it, before he decided to act on impulse. He put a hand on Chris' shoulder and the other one on the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss that was gentle, yet determined.
"So how's that for a painkiller?"
That earned him another smile – he could have killed for those smiles – as Chris replied: "Better than morpheme and probably twice as addictive."
"Yeah, well, I thought you might prefer that to a hypo… Jim always complains that I'm way too fond of them anyway."
"So, do you kiss him, too, in order to make him feel better?"
"Still a little jealous, are we? No, obviously I don't, Chris. I don't think his already overgrown ego needs that kind of boost. Besides, Spock would probably push me out of an airlock and then pretend it was an accident if I did."
"Spock?" Chris asked in obvious surprise.
"Don't tell me you hadn't noticed that…? He positively adores Jim. Oh, there's nothing sexual about it – I'd go as far as to say that our favorite Vulcan is actual an asexual being if Jim didn't swear he kissed Uhura… and not on the cheek, mind you. Anyway, Spock has grown fond of Jim, in his weird Vulcan way, they are good friends by now, and he's very protective of that friendship. I actually found myself fighting with him over Jim a couple of times recently, and that was a pretty disconcerting experience…"
"I bet," Chris replied, but then he shrugged, "though it doesn't surprise me much. Jim has a way with people, and I suppose, even Vulcans aren't immune to that. Besides, Jim's got a brilliant mind, and Spock certainly admires that in a person. It's what drew him to Uhura, too… though I'm not so sure about the kissing part. That could've just been a lot more enthusiasm on her side than on his. Though it seems that she's found herself a new love interest…"
"Scotty." Leonard grinned. "Yes, I've been watching that, too. I guess she won't be too concerned about Admiral Reed's advice."
"Which ought not to be taken too serious, anyway, considering that he is one of the most happily married people I know."
"I think I like him," Leonard mused.
"Malcolm? Yes, he's a pretty likeable person. It's a shame he never got around commanding a ship."
"He made it to admiral without ever commanding a ship?"
"Well, Jim made it to captain without ever graduating from the Academy. Malcolm's always been ambitious, as far as I can tell. He left space in order to stay with his partner, but that hasn't kept him from rising up the ranks pretty fast. He's got a thing for politics." Chris chuckled quietly. "Though he's right about his partner – Trip is a menace, and he's very well capable of taking apart a house in no time. Especially when aided by their children. You think one child with a paint pot is bad? Think again. They've got four, and three of them are nearly the same age… they ought to be eight or nine by now, so they are probably out of the paint pot and into the war games stage."
"I don't mean to be tactless, Chris, but seeing that I'm a doctor and pretty well aware of the… limitations of human reproductive medicine – how did they come by four kids?"
Chris shrugged. "There's still adoption. I know that Laurie, their eldest, is an orphan from a colony Malcolm went to for a rescue mission. As for the other three… I suppose, once you decide that you're up to raising one adopted child, a few more probably won't bother you so much. Besides, it is easier to convince the authorities in question of your suitability as adoptive parents if you've already proven that you can do it."
"You've given some thought to that yourself, haven't you?" Leonard realized.
"I wouldn't be a suitable candidate, Leonard."
"Nonsense, you're really good with kids. I've seen you with Joanna and with your sister's little girls."
"That's not what I meant. I was hinting at the significant lack of a significant other in my life so far. Adoption authorities aren't too fond of the whole single-parenting thing. Besides, I always put my career first. "
"No, not always," Leonard said softly, locking gazes with him, "or you wouldn't have turned that ship around, just because Jim told you I had been injured."
"That was the first time," Chris replied just as quietly.
"Was it worth it?"
"Yes," Chris whispered, before wrapping him into a close embrace. It didn't matter that they were standing on a well-lit sidewalk, that everyone could see them. It didn't matter that it was raining softly and that their hair was already sprinkled with moisture. It didn't matter that they'd once upon a time had an agreement to never even let it come thus far.
All that mattered was that Chris was holding Leonard, that Leonard clung onto him as if he'd never, ever let him go again, that Chris' lips were on his, gently, tenderly exploring them, telling him that yes, this was all real, that he was loved and wanted and had been missed more than words could express.
Chris lived in walking distance of the restaurant Malcolm Reed had taken them to, which was no big surprise considering that both addresses lay within the Academy district.
The quiet residential area close to the main engineering campus was actually an all-Starfleet neighborhood; neat, well-kept, somewhat uniform brick houses nestled into small gardens. To Leonard's surprise, they were welcomed at the door… by two cats.
One was a magnificent Abyssinian, with bright yellow eyes and an imperial manner. The other was smaller, black and white with green eyes.
"I didn't know you'd gotten a companion for Tiberius," Leonard remarked, bending down to pet the Abyssinian, who condescendingly allowed him to do so. Tiberius had been Chris' therapist's idea after he'd recovered enough to take care of a pet again. She'd argued that it would help him get over the traumatic experiences with Nero. Leonard wasn't so sure about that, but Chris and the cat certainly got along well, so there was probably no harm to it.
Chris took their slightly wet coats to hang them up, casting a glance at the second cat, who shyly sat by the door that led to the living room.
"I figured he shouldn't be alone. Seemed unfair, somehow. She's better company for him than I am." He chuckled. "You know what my therapist said when I told her? She said it was a nice idea and asked me when I was going to get a companion for myself. That's when I stopped seeing her."
"Figures," Leonard murmured, "you'd have thought she was messing with your life."
"Well, she was, wasn't she?"
"Yes, but it's her job, silly." He shook his head, straightening up. "What's her name?"
"The therapist's?"
"No. The cat's. I'm not interested in your therapist, I met her once and that was quite enough."
"You see?" Chris replied grinning. "Her name is Lucky. Come on in."
He opened the door for Leonard, leading him into the living room, both cats following at their heels.
"Looks like you," Leonard commented, after briefly scanning the room. It was spacious, with large windows and a fireplace. The furniture was simple, functional, yet elegant in design. Colors were scarce, nearly everything was kept in black and white, even the thick, soft carpet, but there were a few pictures – family and several class pictures - and two sketches, as well as a few schematic drawings of space ships.
Chris shot him a questioning look.
"Your house," Leonard clarified, "the way a room is furnished can tell you a lot about the character of the person who lives in it. And this room has Admiral Christopher Pike written all over it."
"It does? Well, then you must take me for a pretty boring person," Chris replied, his eyes twinkling.
"I wouldn't call it boring. Focused is the word that comes to mind. Maybe modest or unobtrusive. It needs a little friendly chaos, though." He grinned.
"I think, I just invited that in."
"You're calling me chaotic?"
"In an endearing way, you are."
"Very diplomatic, Chris," Leonard chuckled, "maybe they weren't so far off in making you an ambassador after all."
"Maybe. Bourbon?"
"You need to ask?"
"It's considered polite. Sit. You're my guest, so get to chaotifying my living room already and make yourself comfortable."
"Chaotifying? That's not a word."
"I just came up with it. The Romulans have one like that, but there isn't a sufficient term in our language, so I had to make one up. Learning a foreign language really expands your horizon."
"Yeah, I bet," Leonard laughed, settling down on the sofa with the Abyssinian in his lap, "how many do you speak again, seven?"
"It's actually six; Klingon is more of a faucal disease than a language." Chris handed him a glass of bourbon before sitting down next to him.
Leonard took a sip of it, then put down the glass on the low glass table in front of him and turned to face Chris. "So… why are we talking about your cats, furniture and linguistics?"
Chris rolled his eyes. "It's called small-talk. One considers it a polite way to fill the gaps between those very few actually material things people say to each other. You're spending too much time with Spock, if you actually need to ask me that."
"My mistake… to be more precise; what I really meant was: let's get down to the material things. I take it that Jim more or less cleared up your misconceptions about me having an affair with him?"
Chris inclined his head. "More or less. And I'm sorry for being such an idiot about it, but I really thought…"
"That I'd suddenly developed a romantic interest in my notoriously childish, outrageously annoying and foolishly reckless best friend, who just happens to be my commanding officer? Not very likely. Besides, you've seen pictures of my ex-wife, so you ought to know that I'm really not into blondes…"
"Not funny," Chris growled, aiming at him with a pillow that missed its mark, but managed to scare Tiberius away. "What was I supposed to think, Leonard? You turned me down when I invited you to spend shoreleave with me, then Spock tells me of his conversation with Christine Chapel, and when I ask you about it, you actually tell me that you love him."
"What? I never said that!" Leonard frowned.
"Sure you did, though I suppose you didn't mean it quite that way. Remember our conversation, when I asked you about the nature of your friendship with Jim?"
"Vividly." Leonard suppressed a shudder, then realization hit him and he looked up. "Jeez, Chris, you really are an idiot! I wasn't talking about Jim. I meant you!"
"I asked about Jim."
"No, you didn't. You asked me whether it was love. Well, it was. Still is. I had been meaning to tell you that for quite a while, but you'd never let me."
Chris opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, just staring at him for a long moment.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
Leonard rolled his eyes. "No, why would I be? After all, I just love these misunderstandings." He sighed. "Of course I am, Chris. I've always been honest with you, haven't I? Sometimes a little more honest than you could take."
Chris shook his head, then buried his face in his hands. "I think I'll just die out of remorse now," he announced half-ironically.
"No, you won't. You can still make up for it... come here and I'll show you…"
Hi everyone, I just wanted to say thank you for the awesome reviews you gave me! I'm glad you still like it. I could have ended it a couple of chapters ago, I suppose, but I'm just having so much fun writing it... therefore, I'll do at least a few more chapters. You'll get to meet some of Chris' family, including his sister, Laurel. I might also do that M-rated excerpt Lunetta suggested...
