"Morning, Ambassador."
Pike stands as she walks in, the first to arrive for the daily briefing, and sets her things down on the table. "Morning, Captain."
As she turns from the synthesizer, holding her cappuccino, she surprises him. "I'm sorry I wasn't ready yesterday. I am today. I don't think I should need more than five minutes."
He blinks. "I'm sorry, what?"
"My portion of the briefing. With everything the day before, I hadn't prepared, but I'm ready today. Should I go last?"
"Kennedy, I have no idea what you're talking about."
She sets the cappuccino down at her seat and straightens up to face him. She's beginning to see that he really is confused. "Do...do your CDOs not…?"
She trails off, but he's picked up on her line of thought. "I think Ambassador Muktahr has talked a grand total of twice at the daily briefings. When he comes." He chuckles. "But it sounds like...you do?"
"Well...on the Republic…yes. I normally provide a rollup of the diplomatic news. New trade agreements, any hostilities or treaties that it's good to be aware of. Just the high-level points. Unless you'd prefer I not…?"
"No." He's staring at her. "No, that's incredibly useful. Yes. Please."
She laughs, caught slightly off-balance. "All right then. Ah...should I go last?"
"Yes, that's fine."
And she does.
After the rest of the status reports, he invites her to speak. She sits forward in her chair, hands folded on the table, occasionally consulting her pad for a note or two. Her five-minute rollup has just saved him over half an hour of reading through the daily reports from Starfleet.
She finishes, and nods at him, yielding the floor back. He wraps the briefing shortly afterwards, and as the crew files out, sits back down heavily in his chair.
He's beginning to see what Aiden Dodge meant. He's going to get spoiled.
He waits until Leah leaves the bridge at midday; he's got work to do, and he doesn't want her knowing about it.
"Commander Burnham. A word?"
"Of course Captain."
Even though Leah's gone, he lowers his voice, standing at Burnham's station. "I'm in need of...a resource that might be a little tough to get ahold of. But, if anyone knows where I could get it on this ship, I thought it might be you."
"I'm intrigued, sir. What is it you need?"
"I need a really...really...good bottle of white wine. Real stuff."
"That's an unusual request, sir."
"Any thoughts?"
She thinks for a moment. "Lieutenant Rhys. If anyone will have it, it's him."
"Good. Thank you Commander, I appreciate your help." He doesn't elaborate, and of course she can't ask.
Rhys proves to be the person he needs. He doesn't have it himself, but he knows who does. And it's a good bottle indeed.
She still owes Commissioner Ramirez the Angula treaty, and she goes head-down after lunch, determined to finish it. The afternoon slips away quietly as she writes, and she's on her final proof and already looking forward to sending it off when her door opens.
This is twice now Pike's come to her office. It's becoming a daily event.
She stands, and her back lets out a series of cracks that startle both of them. "Sorry about that…"
"Sounds like you haven't moved for awhile…"
She smiles ruefully. "I'm trying to wrap up a treaty that I was working on the day I got the transfer here. I'm a little behind on it and I don't like that."
"How's it going?"
"It's almost done, I think. Just one more proofread."
He nods, stepping slowly over to her desk. "Well...if you won't need to be working...I was wondering if you'd have some free time this evening."
She raises an eyebrow. "I certainly can…"
"Good. Will you join me in my ready room at, say, 1930? After dinner?"
"Of course." She's starting to get even more curious, especially because he isn't giving her any details. "Do I need to bring anything?"
"No, not at all. I'd just like to run something by you."
"Understood. Well, then 1930 it is."
He leaves, and she stares into the dregs of her coffee. She hasn't thought much about what happened on the planet yet...there hasn't really been time to.
It's five, by her count. Five times he touched her.
That hand on her shoulder, in the church. Both hands on her shoulders, putting his jacket around her. A light touch on her elbow as their story fell apart and they tried to leave. A hand to help her to her feet after the blast.
And that hand on her elbow, as they left the fire...after apparently giving off married-couple energy. That's a whole other thing she hasn't thought about yet.
Oh, and him lying on her legs, both of them unconscious. If that counts for a sixth.
She realizes now that she's definitely contributing to the count of her own accord. Although most of it was while he was half-conscious, at best. He probably doesn't remember her taking his hand, or touching his face. Or her scarf, pressed against his side.
She props her chin on her hand. This is…
Unexpected.
It's probably nothing. Maybe he's just the type. Or maybe it's a little leftover chemistry...that hadn't been the problem on that night, after all.
She sips the cold coffee and turns her attention back to the treaty. If she's got…
...a date…
...somewhere to be this evening, she needs to push through.
"Come."
Leah's gaze is already roaming the room as she steps through the door, looking for a hint of why she's here.
She blinks at the ice bucket, bottle of wine, and two glasses sitting on his conference table. "What in the…?"
Pike stands up from the desk. "I thought it was time I apologize properly to you."
The door closes behind her. She slowly walks to the table and examines the label of the bottle, and her brow lifts. "This is a hell of a peace offering, Captain. Do I even want to know how you got this?"
"Nothing exciting, I promise." He grins, picking up the corkscrew sitting next to the bucket. "A fair swap for some excellent tequila I happened to have on hand." He fills the two glasses, offering her one, and gestures to the cozy little sitting area he's assembled in the ready room. "Join me?"
She feels like someone has hit her between the eyes with a hammer, but takes the glass and settles down on the couch as he moves over to the synthesizer. "Did you want anything to eat?"
She swirls the wine and breathes. Sharp, acidic, and mineral. "I had dinner...but some cheese and crackers would go well with this."
"Done."
He brings the plate over and settles down in the chair, facing her on the couch and setting his glass on the table.
She sips from her own glass, and her eyes roll back in her head. "Oh my god. All right. You're forgiven."
He laughs. "Really? That's all it took?"
She gestures with her glass. "Try it."
He sips, and has to admit that she isn't far off. It was definitely worth the tequila. But…
He puts his glass back on the table, leaning forward, and she sees the expression on his face as he opens his mouth, and she tries to stop him. "Look...Chris…" She sets her glass down and leans forward to mirror his stance, resting her elbows on her knees. "It's...it's fine, really. It was a long time ago. I feel like we're working together well. As far as I'm concerned, it's done. In the past. Dead and buried."
Except for how you keep looking at me. And touching me. And, oh yeah, apparently we've been married for the last eighteen years?
It's true though. She doesn't need him to say anything. It's a little strange to realize, but she doesn't need it.
He shakes his head. "No...I'm not going to let you let me off that easily. I'm going to do this right this time."
"Did you write a speech or something?"
"No...but I know how to apologize to someone."
And instantly, it's eighteen years ago. She's standing on a veranda, looking at this ensign who seems to know exactly how to piss her off, and she's contemplating leaving him wearing a martini for the second time as he fumbles through what is definitely not an apology.
She smiles, raising an eyebrow at him, her smile going slightly crooked to acknowledge his callback of her words on that night. "All right. Go for it."
"I'm sorry for what I said. It was a long time ago...but I was completely wrong. It was grossly inconsiderate, I hurt you, and I would never say anything like that now. Especially because it doesn't reflect how I feel. And...even just over the last two days...you're showing me why you have the reputation you do. You don't need to prove anything to me, but I'm glad to have you here. I mean that."
It's a good speech. She's pretty sure he actually did write it.
She swirls her glass again, taking a piece of cheese from the plate as she considers how to reply. "I think the thing that bothered me most was feeling like you looked down on what we do. It's incredibly important work. I'm proud to be SDC, and I'm proud of what we're accomplishing."
"You should be." He picks up one of the crackers and cuts himself a chunk of cheese. "I don't look down on the SDC. Despite my experiences. I do think it's important work."
She lifts a brow curiously. "Experiences? I didn't know you'd struggled with your CDOs."
"In confidence?"
"Of course."
"My feedback on the program hasn't been good so far. I think the goals are commendable, but the execution…in two days you've done more to help me than both of my CDOs on the Enterprise, combined."
Leah nods. "That's good to know. I feel like it's going well, but those of us who are serving don't really talk to each other. We're all just sort of figuring it out."
"Well, you seem to have, at least. Captain Dodge was very complimentary. And Captain Zimmerman."
"And now Captain Pike?" She grins.
He laughs. "Let's just say I'm more open-minded than I was."
"I'll take that." She pauses, and feels like she owes him something in return for his openness. And there's something she can give back, as it turns out.
"You know…" She sips, buying herself a moment. "The other thing that was hard...was that you weren't the first person to talk about diplomacy as a joke major. I heard it a lot during those four years."
He sighs. "I know. It's still no excuse for me saying it though." He stops, his eyes dropping to his wine glass. "Especially on a night that I was really hoping was going to turn out...very differently."
She blushes. She blushes.
She's not sure which of them is more unbalanced by what he said; he can't make eye contact with her, looking to the side and the floor and anywhere but back at her, as he takes a rather large gulp of wine.
Before she can say anything, he stands up, moving back towards the conference table. "There's one more thing."
He opens a drawer and pulls out a small object. She can't see it from where she is, and stands, walking across the room to join him.
Her breath stops for a moment as she sees what he sets down on the conference table.
A cribbage board.
"The matter synthesizers do a nice job," he says. "And I thought...maybe you could teach me."
Of everything he could have chosen.
She inhales, and it takes everything she has, all of the training and experience and almost two decades of perfect control. Her lips don't tremble; her eyes don't fill. And when she raises them from the board, her grey meeting his blue, he only gets to see what she wants him to see.
"We're going to need a deck of cards," she says softly.
She crushes him, of course. Repeatedly. She's been playing since she was six, and was playing cutthroat rules by the time she was ten. He's not going to learn enough to beat her in a single evening. But he takes to the game well, and he learns fast, and they slowly drain the bottle of wine and empty the plate as she walks him through counting and pegging and crib strategy.
She leans back in her chair after the sixth game. "I think you're getting the hang of this."
He smiles. "I think so too."
"Well…you just let me know when you want to practice again."
The first thing that he thinks is, What are you doing tomorrow night?
The second is something much more sensible, and so that's what he goes with. "Soon. I don't want to forget everything you just taught me."
She stands, stretching. "I'm always up for it. Hannah and I play almost every evening on the Republic."
"Then I'm glad I could give you a little piece of home."
Yes you did. More than you know.
"Now if only I had a horse somewhere around here, I could return the favor."
He laughs. "It's been a long time since I've gotten to do that. Can't wait till I get another chance."
She chuckles. "It's getting late...I should get some sleep. Are you heading out?"
He puts the glasses and empty plate back in the synthesizer. "No, I've got a few things to do yet."
"Then...thank you. For taking the time."
She stops for a minute, then steps closer to him and offers her hand. "Officially a fresh start?"
He takes it and they lightly shake. "Fresh start."