"What have you done?"
Chapel bristled a little, the bottle dangling anticlimactically from her fingers. She hadn't done anything. Things had happened, sure. Maybe she was there when they did. But it was hardly her fault that the universe had decided today was the day to… There hadn't been any actual phaser fire this time. It was all good.
"Nothing. The ship's fine. It's all fine."
La'an shook her head and stepped back to let her in.
"Who do I need to go and beat up?"
Chapel felt her smile falter as her mind skittered away from the question. There wasn't anyone to blame. It had all just gotten a little out of hand. Made the bar feel too bright and loud, her hotel room cavernous and stifling. Left the refuge of her Enterprise quarters echoing with noise she couldn't seem to quiet.
It was why she was here, interrupting La'an at this ridiculous hour without any actual excuse. And La'an, dressed incongruously in brushed cotton, her hair down, seemed to have taken one look at her and drawn, well, the obvious conclusion apparently. But still, it could have taken her a little longer.
"That would be me."
La'an raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't press. She took the bottle from Chapel's unresisting fingers and set it by the sink, where she retrieved a cup that matched the small teapot sat on a burner on the coffee table. It was unexpectedly domestic, and it made the snarl inside Chapel relax a little. She sat on the couch beside La'an and accepted the cup she poured for her. It smelled light and flowery. Jasmine, Chapel thought, inhaling the steam. It was too hot to drink.
"Did you see the ship?"
"Yes." She tried to quell the memory. It had been the kind of beautiful that was just a small step from pain, the kind of precarious, soaring elation that would tip her into the void if she didn't clamp down on it fast enough. Sitting there with Erica she had been almost loose enough to slip, to admit to things she didn't want to have said. Because Erica would listen, and give her advice that would be sensible, and patient, and true. Tell her things she already knew. That she didn't want to know.
La'an watched her, but didn't ask. After a moment she picked up her PADD and hit a few buttons, searching for something. "I found this." She said, throwing the program at the environmental controls. "I like it."
It was a soundscape, textured and multidimensional, filling the room in a way that was so real Chapel could almost feel the breeze, smell the sap and the earth, see the dust that danced in the beams of sunlight between tall, rough pine trunks. She watched the steam rise from her cup and listened to a bird picking through the dry forest floor, its little wings fluttering, its claws catching against a fallen trunk. Up above, the wind barely rustled the branches.
La'an settled back onto the couch and flicked the PADD back to the book she had been reading. She propped her feet up on the coffee table, sipped her tea, her dark hair falling back against the cushions. Chapel focussed on the warmth of the cup in her hands, the sounds of insects buzzing, far away. She toed off her shoes and drew her legs up under her. Watched the candle flame as it danced in the burner. The sun shifted, making the trees creak. The forest opened up into a clearing that rustled with tall grass.
The tea cooled in her hands. Eventually La'an took the cup from her and emptied it back into the pot, then returned it fresh and steaming to match her own. She went back to her book without comment. Slowly, the noise stopped. Chapel rested her head against the cushions and went to sleep, listening to the sound of a whispering brook coming slowly nearer.
La'an looked round at her when she blinked awake. She couldn't tell how long it had been. It had to be late. She shouldn't be here.
"I should go."
La'an studied her. "Do you need me to come and vanquish a monster?"
It was funny. She was supposed to smile. Or shake her head. She watched La'an's expression change, her searching eyes fade towards gentle concern as the world blurred. She didn't know why she was crying, only that she was, sharp and silent, completely involuntary.
"You're not going home." It was final, but not unkind.
La'an took her cup and cleared the tea things away, rinsing the pot in the sink, blowing out the candle. It left a whisp of smoke that trailed towards the ceiling, spiralling, coiling in the still air.
"Here."
La'an urged her up with a hand to her elbow, guided her towards the bed. The sheets were soft and fresh, the pillowcase cool under her cheek. The regulation blankets felt heavier than usual as they fell across her shoulders. La'an dimmed the lights, turned the forest down until it was just a whisper. Chapel listened as she cleaned her teeth, water splashing in the basin, a halo of light spilling out around the door. The mattress dipped as La'an's silhouetted form slid in beside her, quiet in the darkness. She listened to her breathe, and let her eyes fall closed.
Chapel woke to artificial sunlight streaming in through imitation portholes. The room was quiet save for the whisper of the trees, the bed beside her neat and empty. She felt better, clearer. Most of the leaden, stifling jag seemed to have passed. She curled into the warm sheets and looked around the room she hadn't taken in last night. The ornaments she was fairly sure La'an didn't own. It was nice here. Colourful.
She sat up when the door slid open. Hugged her knees through the blankets while she watched La'an lift plates and bowls off a metal mess tray. She should probably try to explain. She didn't, and La'an didn't ask. Just nodded and turned to make tea.
The bathroom was neat. Uncluttered. Chapel washed her face and ran La'an's hairbrush through her ruffled hair, avoiding the mirror. La'an was already buttoned into her uniform, which was a shame, Chapel reflected, pulling bleached strands from between the bristles. She so wanted to see what it took to get those braids so tight.
When she emerged the forest had been replaced by a local system news channel. Perfectly manicured anchors sat around a large glass table under bright, flattering lights. The politician they were interviewing seemed dull. Chapel didn't recognise her. La'an wasn't watching.
There was a place set for her at the table, fruit and toast and scrambled eggs. La'an poured tea into her cup, then returned to her cornflakes. It was familiar.
"That isn't a balanced breakfast." She couldn't not say it. She always said it. It was the opening she had used to join La'an in the mess hall, that very first time, because good morning really wouldn't have cut it.
"It's an excellent breakfast." La'an fired back, eyes never leaving the report she was skimming. She very deliberately didn't smile. The tell was in her shoulders, the momentary stillness as she suppressed the reaction.
Chapel grinned. It never got old. The news switched to a feature about the Denobulan festival of lights.
"If you're beaming back out you'll have to use the cargo pad." La'an tilted her bowl to spoon out the last of the milk. "Chief Kyle has a couple of ensigns micro-cleaning the transporter room."
"Why?"
"Because it's where fun goes to die." La'an said neutrally.
Chapel winced at the reminder. Poor M'Benga. And people said she was the one without a filter. "How did she take that?"
"Not well." La'an pulled up a file on her PADD and slid it across for Chapel to see. It was the full list of Enterprise bingo, adorned with little green check-marks. "She put up a force field on the hull so we could sign the scorch."
"That's…" Dangerous. Stupid. The kind of reckless La'an clearly already comprehended.
La'an shrugged. "It made her happy. Breaking the rules. And the view was spectacular."
"It would be." After all, with nothing but a fragile force field between you and the freezing vacuum, space must feel close enough to touch. Close enough to die in, breath boiling, at the slightest power fluctuation. On a starship undergoing extensive reconstruction.
She let it go. It was none of her business.
"So, who shot who?" La'an fixed her with a look. Chapel rolled her eyes and handed the PADD back. "Forget I asked."
La'an shook her head anyway. "Who shot who." She muttered into her tea.
The door chimed. La'an went to answer it, cup in hand.
"Oh good, you're here." Una stepped into the room without invitation, brandishing a cargo manifest. "We've just received a shipment of replacement torpedoes, I thought you might want to…"
"I know." La'an took the PADD as Una pulled up short. "I scheduled it."
It was kind of funny to see her thrown, Chapel decided as Una offered her a careful nod.
"Nurse Chapel."
"Commander."
"I'll come and see to it in a minute." La'an indicated an empty chair. "Cup of tea?"
Una hesitated, then rallied. "No, that's fine, I'll see you down there." She smiled at Chapel. It didn't reach her eyes. "Enjoy your breakfast."
Chapel would have saluted her with the teacup, but she was already gone, the door hissing closed behind her leaving just the Cheshire echo of politely masked disapproval. "She really doesn't like me." Usually she tried not to let that bother her, but right now the commander had a point. After all, what the hell was she even doing here?
"People are idiots."
La'an brought the mess tray over from the counter. She stacked the empty bowls onto it then stalled, pressing her fingers against the crockery. "She likes to be in control." She said after a second. "I tend to piss her off."
It was an interesting misconception, although Chapel supposed it was characteristically unforgiving of everyone involved. "I think she worries about you." She suggested carefully, because this was the last place she needed to start interfering. Especially today.
La'an actually laughed. "So that makes you what? A threat?"
Chapel shrugged, focussing on her eggs. They had skirted around this before. The problem really wasn't that Una was wary of her, but that La'an wasn't. La'an was careful about everything. Always on guard. Except here. Because Chapel had found a back door through her defences.
"I should go."
"You should finish your breakfast." La'an said flatly.
"I really…"
"I don't want to hear it Chapel." La'an cut her off. "I'll decide for myself who I can trust. You don't get a say in that. And neither does Una."
Which was true. Of course it was true. La'an had told her this before; she was an adult, she wasn't saying no. And yet, it had the twisting, hollow weight of something wrong. Of something she shouldn't be doing. Because as much as La'an insisted this was fine, how could she really be agreeing to anything when Chapel wasn't even sure what the hell it was she wanted here? When the scope of it seemed so broad, and so hazy, and all of it felt like it involved taking advantage.
"Stop." La'an leant in across the table. "Stop thinking."
She couldn't. It used to be such an easy thing to do. Something she had come to excel at, over the years. But recently, it had become uncomfortably difficult. Whenever her mind slowed it tended to throw up images she didn't want to see, feelings she didn't want to examine. She'd known signing up for this mission would be dangerous. She hadn't been prepared for quite how existentially draining it would be.
Shore leave was supposed to have been fixing that. Instead, she had ended up here, in absolutely the last place she should be attempting to recharge her flickering sanity.
"Chapel, stop."
La'an was watching her, unwavering, as if mere force of will was going to make her settle. Strangely, for whatever reason, it did. Chapel found the world refocusing around her dark, insistent eyes. This was fine. She knew how to say no.
"Good." La'an drew back, straightening up. "Now, eat the eggs, and then go do something that helps. Or I'm going to have to tell M'Benga."
Chapel smiled at that. The threat was starting to become familiar. "He's fishing."
"The hat rather gave it away."
She finished her breakfast, wondering what advice he might give her if she asked him. Nothing she wanted to hear, probably. Almost certainly, he'd be disappointed. Better to leave him to his lures and flies. He'd been looking forward to the break for weeks, showing her pictures. The lake seemed peaceful.
"Have you ever been?"
"Been what?"
"Fishing."
La'an gave her a look that could either mean why would you even ask that? or who hasn't? "I prefer torpedoes." She said instead.
Of course she did. They were on the ship.
"Come down to the station." Chapel tried anyway. "Once you're done here." La'an frowned at her. Chapel smiled back, wrinkling her nose. "There are forests."
"They're not real."
"Have you been to a real one?" La'an hesitated, suddenly unreadable. "It's nice down there." Chapel said quietly. "It feels real."
"It looks full of people."
Which it was, there was no point denying it. Even down by the fishing lake. There was nowhere really quiet on a starbase. "They don't bother you. They're enjoying their own shore leave." She pointed her fork at the news report that was winding up. "We can watch the light festival."
La'an blinked at the images on the screen. There were lanterns, swarms of tiny, luminous drones, people swathed in glowing robes and what looked like an artificial aurora shimmering in the sky. "Fine." She shut the screen off. "I'll be terrible company."
Chapel grinned "Not possible."
"Trust me, I've been told. Multiple times."
Of course she had. Chapel caught at the tray La'an was picking up, made sure to trap her fingers as she lifted her dishes onto it.
"People are idiots."