Nearly three days after the Enterprise was hauled back to Starbase 1 for repairs, Harriet stepped through the doors of Mrs. Thurston's shop hesitantly, nervous at the welcome she might receive. She couldn't put a finger on why she was nervous but she was nervous nonetheless. Perhaps it was because she knew what she had almost lost; perhaps it was because she felt lost.
The shop was like a little island of normalcy after everything. While it wasn't full, there was the usual mix of customers chatting quietly away as they worked or sipped on drinks. It spoke of safety and calmer times and Harriet couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips.
She only makes it three steps into the shop before Mrs. Thurston looks up, a call of welcome dying quickly on her lips, her face going briefly slack in either surprise or shock. It worries Harriet. Perhaps she'd come back too soon? Too late? Should she have called ahead first? What exactly was the protocol for returning after likely being presumed dead? As a so-called hero to planet that wasn't her own?
Just as Harriet's hopeful little smile started to ebb, the older woman put the order she was working on down with a quiet apology and beelined for Harriet. The hug that followed was unapologetically long … and comforting, dare she say it.
"O Hari," Mrs. Thurston said softly into her ear. Had she been wondering if Harriet was ever coming back after all the stories that were circulating? After the Bay had been so blatantly targeted and terrorized? Had the shop been affected?
Harriet honestly hadn't meant to keep Mrs. Thurston in the dark about her own well being, she'd simply been overwhelmed herself this last week. Between the Enterprise being dragged back to Earth, offering her services to the Vulcan embassy, Smaug wrangling, and dodging both Bones and Captain Pike for what she suspected were vaguely related reasons, she hadn't had time to sit down and properly send out messages, much less contemplate what to put in said messages.
Given how tightly Mrs. Thurston was hugging her, and the fact the woman was still holding her, perhaps she should have.
At a momentary loss for what to do, Harriet simply stood there, before quietly returning the hug. That must have been the signal Mrs. Thurston had been waiting for because she finally stepped back a few moments later, only to gently but firmly place both hands on her shoulders and look her directly in the eyes.
"How about a cup of coffee?" Mrs. Thurston offered quietly.
Harriet smiled. She perhaps wasn't home, not yet, but it was starting to feel like it.
Harriet hadn't quite been able to put herself back on rotation at the shop after her return but she still tried to help out where she could. She needed the normalcy, the innocence of a simple coffee shop, to balance out her life at the moment. She knew Mrs. Thurston was worried for her, didn't want her to leave her sight really, and was diligently waiting for Harriet to offer up answers and stories, but Harriet simply couldn't bring herself to worry the woman further.
So instead, Harriet pottered around, dressed in her Vulcan inspired outfit (that Amanda insisted she wear), hair braided in one of the most elaborate hairstyles she could remember (and magic could recreate), wearing earrings and hair pins to match, all in an attempt to reestablish what had once been normal.
Of course, just about when she thinks she's convinced Mrs. Thurston all is well in the world once more, Pike walks into the shop.
It's a slow day (for reasons Harriet refuses to examine), so she's sitting at her table enjoying a cappuccino with a light dusting of chocolate by the window. She's so absorbed in her reading she doesn't spot him until the proximity ward on the table goes off.
"Is this seat taken?"
Without looking up, or putting down her cappuccino, Harriet gestured with her other hand for him to take the seat. She'd put off this conversation long enough.
Pike quietly eased himself into the seat across from Harriet. While physically he was on the mend, the phantom aches from his ordeal still plagued his mind.
'And they likely will for some time to come…' he thought with a certain amount of ill humor.
Since the woman seemed uninclined to put aside her – paper – book, he took a moment to study her. She was wearing what he suspected was a Vulcan style wrap of some sort, a deep orange color that somehow didn't clash too badly with the green of her eyes. The elaborate braids of her hair were pulled back into a bun without a seeming attempt at meeting regulations. Her face was relaxed but focused.
It did not seem like the face of a woman who could see or speak with death.
He did not know how to reconcile that thought with the woman seated before him and what he knew deep in his bones to be truth. In the end, Pike was a man of action and would not stand on either ceremony or duty to address this particular issue.
"Ms. Luna."
"Hari, or Harriet if you insist."
"Harriet." He took a steadying breath. "I don't know exactly what it is I saw, but I would greatly appreciate knowing if it was real."
"We all see things when we're under stress Captain," she said calmly, eyes still on her book.
"Christopher, and is that your professional opinion?"
She placed an honest to goodness leather bookmarker into her book before setting it aside and finally looking up.
"Are you requesting my professional opinion or a healer's insight?" Her seriousness was uncanny but thankfully on par with what he remembered from their pervious interactions.
"I'm requesting the truth." He sighed and leaned back into his seat, considering her. "What did you mean when you said it can be difficult to keep their company for long periods of time? Who is they?"
Harriet raised an eyebrow, then took a sip of her drink. Eventually, she crossed her legs and turned to stare out of the café window.
"Are you sure you wish to have this conversation, Christopher?" She turned to look back at him. "You may not like or believe the answer."
He took a moment to consider that before answering her. "I'm willing to listen."
"Then my only request is that you commit to seeing a counselor when we are done."
For a long moment he simply stared at her, thinking of all the ways a counselor would most certainly not be helpful in this particular situation, before deciding it was a fair exchange to make with a woman who dealt in medicine and miracles.
"Deal."
Hari and Christopher were still sharing a quiet cup of coffee, both lost in their own thoughts, when Bones entered the shop.
Hari snorted inelegantly. 'Of course, shows up now of all times!' He looked like he wanted to discuss something too. Hopefully, he didn't want to discuss anything too deep. She wasn't up for deep conversations. She'd already had one too many today; she didn't need another.
Alas.
"Hari, Captain," he nodded to both in greeting. "Mind if I join the party?"
She gave him a quirky little smile in response. "Depends. What do you want?"
He took a seat from a nearby table, brought it to her own, and plopped down into it as if they'd already agreed.
"How old are you? Actually?"
Crup poo! She was not up for this discussion!
She settled on dramatically rolling her eyes.
"It's not polite to ask a woman her age Bones."
"Except, as your Doctor, I'd really like to know." She gave him her best skeptical face. "I'd also really like to know where you're from."
She waved a hand dismissively. "Irrelevant."
"Hardly. You're giving me a headache."
'rude!' She blinked at him blankly for his efforts.
Pike – Christopher – had the nerve to smile. She sent him a betrayed look.
"As curious as I am to know the answer to those questions myself, I think I'll take my leave." He moved to get up. Hari sure as hell wasn't going to stop him, much less invite him to stay. "Hari, Doctor," he said simply, then made his way stiffly out of the shop.
Hari pinched her nose. "Is this really necessary Bones?"
"None of you makes sense woman!" he insisted quietly. "And if you weren't avoiding me, I wouldn't have to do this in public."
"I'm not avoiding you," she said defensively. As if HARRIET avoided PRobLEmS!
[*cough* no comment *cough*]
Ok, so maybe she was avoiding Starfleet at the moment. Not the point!
She sniffed delicately. "At least ask a lady out first."
Bones snorted. The nerve!
AN 1: A short chapter but the prompt wouldn't allow for a longer one and still progress the story.
AN 2: Yes, this story is marked complete. These last few chapters are more of an epilogue. Now that I have time to write again, I want to wrap up/ round out a few things but the story itself won't be going into the next film's territory.
Prompt: Unfinished; Write while listening to a playlist! [surprisingly enjoyable]