Title: Listener
Author: Medie
Email: medison thezone.net
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series (With a minor TNG crossover)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/Other
Spoilers/References: pre-series, pre-Star Trek: The Movie, Post: Search For Spock, Post-Generations
Author's Note: Um...yeah. First time I've ever written Kirk. Starfleet: Gander is actually mentioned in the Diane Duane Novel "Spock's World" (Spock refers to it when thinking of the reprovisioning of the Enterprise) and Gander is only about 40 minutes (that's in conventional car travel time) from Botwood hence where my reasoning for the layout mentioned in the fic comes from. The Dockside really does exist and makes fantastic food. No Calandre. But, the guy that runs it does have a friendly ear. grin
Written for the LJ Hometown Ficathon. My hometown, the town featured in the fic, is Botwood, Newfoundland.
Disclaimer: Star Trek - not mine. Calandre - mine.
Summary: Sometimes, you find the best sanctuary, in listening.
"Listener"
by M.
-------
Night came early to Newfoundland in the fall. Dark had long since fallen when Kirk emerged from Starfleet Gander's facilities. Weary, the newly-promoted captain rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at the night sky, searching out the shining light that was his ship. His new command...Enterprise.
The thought of it sent a jolt through him, rousing him from the exhaustion of a day spent overseeing the re-provisioning of his ship. It was the mundane side of prepping for launch, stocking a ship with it's many and sundry provisions. Everything from replacing the stale air that filled the Enterprise which, even with the environmental systems, became stale over time, to stocking the ship's stores with food, hydroponics, replacement supplies, equipment, circuitry, data solids...everything imaginable that a starship would need on a deep space exploration mission. A captain's presence was not required for this particular step in the process but he wanted to be there. He wanted to see it for himself. Experience everything relating to his command. So, thus, he now found himself standing outside the facility responsible for taking care of that particular step and realizing that Newfoundland in the fall can be a very cold place.
The material of his uniform tunic did little to protect him against the evening chill and he suppressed a shiver as he strode along the well-lit walkway. Starfleet kept ground cars and shuttles on hand for visiting officers' use and, rather than return to San Francisco, he'd arranged for one of them.
The small towns that surrounded Gander had, over the years, evolved into a loose support network for the Starfleet facilities housed there. The closer ones house the officers and personnel that staffed the facilities but the ones a little further out, like the town Kirk was heading for, those were where Starfleet housed visiting officers and the odd dignitary. Mostly, it was the senior staff or officers, men and women like Kirk, of ships undergoing the very re-provisioning that Enterprise currently was.
Newfoundland, a somewhat isolated place in days gone by, had remained largely untouched by the wars that had so ravaged the rest of the world during the late 21st and early 22nd centuries. Thus, much of the architecture of those eras and prior had remained intact. Now maintained by the inhabitants of the province. Travelling through those communities, Kirk had the feeling of stepping back in time. He found he liked it.
He liked the fact that, even with Starfleet's presence, towns like Botwood hadn't changed much. They'd retained the unhurried, peaceful atmosphere which was their trademark. They'd long ago learned the lesson the rest of humanity had fought bloody wars to learn. Ambition for financial wealth and power meant little. He who dies with the most toys still dies. He liked the simple equality of the belief.
He liked a lot about this place. Especially a little hole in the wall restaurant overlooking the deep blue of the harbor. The Dockside, in one incarnation or the other, had been around since the late 20th century and was housed, he understood, in what had once been the town's jail. The bars still decorated the intimately lit dining area, setting it apart from the entry way and the lounge room off the entrance hall.
Kirk had been dining there every night since he'd arrived. The food was fantastic but he had to admit, it was the Dockside's enigmatic owner, Calandre, that kept him coming back. She greeted him with a friendly smile and a beer - the good stuff - and her husky voice calling his name. Seeing her and hearing her, never failed to send a charge through his body. The heady feeling of new attraction was more than enough to keep him coming back but truly, the sexual attraction had very little to do with it.
Calandre, he was convinced, wasn't human. There was an ageless feel to her, a knowing look in her eyes, and a way about her that made people open up. Secure in the knowledge that no matter what they told her, she would listen. He'd found that one out for himself for the first night. Sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and talking about his life. His experiences. From the horrors of Kudos the Executioner to the demonic cloud which drained the life out of anyone it enveloped. And, throughout it all, Calandre listened. Refilled his drink and, when he was ready and only when he was ready, offered comments and sympathy without patronizing him.
"Jim..." There she was, right on cue, with a smile on her face and the beer in her hand. "You look tired."
"How tired?" He inquired with a grin, settling in at the bar as she drifted down to the other end, refilling a glass for another patron.
"About five times worse than exhausted." She elaborated, glancing over at him.
"Only that?" His grin widened before he lifted his beer to his lips, taking a fortifying swallow. "Feel about ten times worse than dead tired. Explain to me, how a day spent watching screens and listening to briefings can leave you more tired than taking on twenty Klingons?"
Calandre gave him a look, laughter in her eyes, and leaned on the bar. "Hungry?"
"Starving." He countered, giving her a wicked look in return.
She laughed aloud. "Shameless."
"Only with you." He promised, catching the rag she tossed lightly at him.
"Utterly shameless." Calandre affirmed, disappearing into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with a large plate of food and set it before him. "Eat."
Not an order he was particularly averse to following, he happily dug into the steaming plate while she dealt with other customers, listening as a young man in Sciences blue poured his heart out about his partner and the troubles they'd been having. He half-listened as Calandre soothed the boy's worries with some concoction that turned purple with sparkles and some advice that didn't sound like advice. She was especially good at that, he'd noticed. Phrasing things in such a way that the listener didn't really realize she was helping them come to the decision or realization they needed to reach.
"Last night I hear." Calandre was before him again, her eyes watching him with curiosity and some sadness.
He nodded. "The re-provisioning should be done by tonight so, back to San Francisco for orders and shipping out."
"Off to who knows where to discover who knows what." She teased with a smile that somehow gave him the impression she knew full well what was out there. Full well what he was going to see.
"Exactly." He agreed, smiling back before saying, more suddenly than he'd planned, "Feel like taking a walk down by the water? With me?"
Calandre looked at him for a long moment, then around the room, and signalled one of her waitresses to take over. "I'll get my coat."
"We'll be getting snow soon." She observed, closing her eyes and lifting her face into the air.
"How can you tell?" He asked casually, automatically slipping an arm about her waist, steadying her as they walked.
"You can smell it on the wind." Calandre opened her eyes again, looking at him. "The edge in the air, the change."
"I don't smell anything." He observed, mimicking her earlier actions and nearly stumbling over a pile of seaweed. The gaffe elicited a soft laugh from his companion who slipped her arm about his waist. "Just the water."
"You haven't been here long enough." She pointed out logically. "I'm sure, were this Iowa, you'd be telling me what was coming on the wind."
Jim nodded. "True enough."
They walked in companionable silence, comfortable with each other, the sea air bracing them and he realized he would miss her company. No one had ever listened like she did. But, he had a feeling, no one human could.
"Ask." She said quietly, surprising him.
"Hmm?"
With knowing eyes, Calandre smiled, slipping her arm through his and hugging it. "Ask."
"All right." He returned the smile. "Who are you? What are you? Where are you from? Really?"
"Really?" She stopped, finding a rock and settling down on it, pulling him down beside her. "Well..." Lifting her gaze to the water, she watched the ebb and flow of the tide as she answered, "I am a Listener, an El-Aurian. That is the proper name for my people but...we are listeners first and foremost. My home...my home is very far from here. You could not reach it in your lifetime." Turning her gaze from the water, she looked at him, reaching out to lightly trace his jawline. "I came here many years ago. Many, many years ago. I liked it. So...I stayed. Humans are a fascinating people...Especially here." She gestured to the land and water about them. "It sounds silly but...this place, these people, remind me of home."
"The best of both worlds." He murmured, making her laugh.
"Yes, Jim, that's it exactly."
"Does anyone else know? About you?"
She shook her head. "No. You're the first. The first one who really looked...who saw me."
He kissed her then. Slow, careful...promising. Asking a question.
She answered it by standing and offering her hand.
They made love that night. More than once. Taking their time each time and, for a while, he was tempted to ask if these 'Listeners' she spoke of had the ability to slow down time. To bring it to a crawl. He was tempted to ask but he didn't. If it was not among their abilities then he wished the illusion that it was to stay with him forever. Instead, he contented himself with exploring the line of her back with his lips, his hands committing her curves to memory. It would be years before he saw her again and he wished very much to remember until he did.
The certainty of that belief, that he would see her again, didn't much surprise him. He had a sense that no matter when he came back to Botwood, walked into that bar, she would be there. It was a concrete fact. Like the fact space was a vacuum and the Enterprise – his home.
He woke to a beautiful morning only somewhat marred by the infernal seagull that insisted on flying overhead and demanding breakfast. Beside him, Calandre was still sleeping, lying on her stomach, face turned toward him, and one hand resting on his chest. He stayed there longer than he should have, watching her sleep, before he finally admitted he needed to get ready.
A replicated breakfast wasn't nearly as good as what he would have gotten at in the kitchen of the Dockside but it was good enough. Calandre didn't complain when she woke to a cup of replicated coffee and a not-so-replicated kiss. She didn't ask when he was leaving, just smiled and took the cup. Relaxed, she stayed in bed, watching him pull on his uniform, making small talk as he stepped into the pants. Teasing him when he very nearly fell over. Starfleet didn't exactly make their uniforms easy to get into.
When he sat down on the edge of the bed to fight with his boots, she leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Excited?"
"Terrified." He countered, enjoying the frank honesty her mere presence seemed to encourage. It was easier to tell her things than most. "It's the Enterprise."
"A lot of history." She agreed. "Archer, April, Pike..." Turning her head, she kissed his neck then murmured, "Kirk," into his ear. "I think he fits in that list quite nicely."
"Did you know any of them?" He asked, struck by the thought.
"Archer." She revealed with a nod. "You would have liked him." Mirth danced in her eyes as he turned his head to look at her. "If you didn't drive each other crazy first."
Jim laughed, kissing her. "I have to go."
"I know." Calandre kissed him again, settling back on the rumpled sheets. "I'll see you when you get back."
Walking from the room, he smiled. He liked her certainty.
As expected it was five years, plus a promotion, and a failed marriage before she saw him again. But, without warning, one evening, Admiral Kirk walked into the Dockside and still found a beer and a smile waiting for him. El-Aurians, it seemed, were difficult to surprise.
"You're late." Was all Calandre said as he sat down.
"Got lost for a while." He responded, tasting the beer. "Sorry."
"Mm...No need." She reached out, brushing her fingers over his brow, as if reading the cares that were now etched into it. "Tell me."
And he did. It poured out of him. The entire five year mission, the return to Earth, the promotion, the instant realization it was a mistake..and Lori. He told her about Lori. The entire disaster from beginning to end.
Just as he remembered, from Calandre there was no judgements, no recriminations, no comments on what he could have done differently, what he should have done differently. She simply listened. Her eyes on him, her attention on him, and her acceptance surrounding him. The title of 'legend' slipped away and he found himself remembering what it was to be that excited young man, on the brink of his first command, with no idea of what lay ahead of him. Of the adventure, the friendship, the disasters, and the successes.
"Don't do that." Her words surprised him. Calandre had never spoken like that before but even as he met her gaze with wide eyes, he could see her intent. "Don't compare then to now." She smiled. "Then only helped make now."
"I miss then." He commented softly.
"Live long enough, you find everyone misses then. It's why everyone waxes poetic about the 'good old days'." She turned, taking the plate brought to her by a server and putting it before him. "They tend to forget there's no such thing."
He slanted a look at her over the plate, silently questioning, waiting for her to explain herself.
She answered the look with a softer smile. "Tell me, Jim, when you were out there, when you lost a crewman...did you wish for the good old days when you were a cadet? And when you were a cadet, were there times you wished for the good old days when you were growing up?"
"It's all a matter of perspective." Jim agreed with a nod. "Humanity's never satisfied."
"An endearing trait." She teased with a grin, lightly touching his hand.
He chuckled at the comment and tucked into the food, putting away most of it in companionable silence. Calandre wasn't standing before him but he wasn't out of her awareness. Somehow, she always seemed able to be aware of everything at once. He was quite convinced there was little that went on in the Dockside, or in the town itself, that she didn't know about. Whether that was Calandre or a trait of her race, he didn't know. As far as he'd ever been able to tell, she was the only El-Aurian he'd ever met. Though, she maintained, there were more moving about the Federation - Earth in particular - than just her. Humanity, it seemed, fascinated the El-Aurian race to no end.
"You're right." She agreed suddenly, stopping before him to lean on the bar. "Humans do fascinate us. We can't help ourselves..."
"It's a perfect fit." He countered with a grin. "We like to talk, you like to listen."
Calandre smiled widely, pushing a dark curl out of her eyes. "You have much to say and I have much to hear..." The personalization of the comment drew his full attention and she tilted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "So...what is it you wish to say now?"
He reached out, his fingers sliding back the rebellious curl which had again fallen into her eyes. "Walk with me?"
She smiled, nodding. "I'll get my coat."
TBC in Part 2
Author: Medie
Email: medison thezone.net
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series (With a minor TNG crossover)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/Other
Spoilers/References: pre-series, pre-Star Trek: The Movie, Post: Search For Spock, Post-Generations
Author's Note: Um...yeah. First time I've ever written Kirk. Starfleet: Gander is actually mentioned in the Diane Duane Novel "Spock's World" (Spock refers to it when thinking of the reprovisioning of the Enterprise) and Gander is only about 40 minutes (that's in conventional car travel time) from Botwood hence where my reasoning for the layout mentioned in the fic comes from. The Dockside really does exist and makes fantastic food. No Calandre. But, the guy that runs it does have a friendly ear. grin
Written for the LJ Hometown Ficathon. My hometown, the town featured in the fic, is Botwood, Newfoundland.
Disclaimer: Star Trek - not mine. Calandre - mine.
Summary: Sometimes, you find the best sanctuary, in listening.
"Listener"
by M.
-------
Night came early to Newfoundland in the fall. Dark had long since fallen when Kirk emerged from Starfleet Gander's facilities. Weary, the newly-promoted captain rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at the night sky, searching out the shining light that was his ship. His new command...Enterprise.
The thought of it sent a jolt through him, rousing him from the exhaustion of a day spent overseeing the re-provisioning of his ship. It was the mundane side of prepping for launch, stocking a ship with it's many and sundry provisions. Everything from replacing the stale air that filled the Enterprise which, even with the environmental systems, became stale over time, to stocking the ship's stores with food, hydroponics, replacement supplies, equipment, circuitry, data solids...everything imaginable that a starship would need on a deep space exploration mission. A captain's presence was not required for this particular step in the process but he wanted to be there. He wanted to see it for himself. Experience everything relating to his command. So, thus, he now found himself standing outside the facility responsible for taking care of that particular step and realizing that Newfoundland in the fall can be a very cold place.
The material of his uniform tunic did little to protect him against the evening chill and he suppressed a shiver as he strode along the well-lit walkway. Starfleet kept ground cars and shuttles on hand for visiting officers' use and, rather than return to San Francisco, he'd arranged for one of them.
The small towns that surrounded Gander had, over the years, evolved into a loose support network for the Starfleet facilities housed there. The closer ones house the officers and personnel that staffed the facilities but the ones a little further out, like the town Kirk was heading for, those were where Starfleet housed visiting officers and the odd dignitary. Mostly, it was the senior staff or officers, men and women like Kirk, of ships undergoing the very re-provisioning that Enterprise currently was.
Newfoundland, a somewhat isolated place in days gone by, had remained largely untouched by the wars that had so ravaged the rest of the world during the late 21st and early 22nd centuries. Thus, much of the architecture of those eras and prior had remained intact. Now maintained by the inhabitants of the province. Travelling through those communities, Kirk had the feeling of stepping back in time. He found he liked it.
He liked the fact that, even with Starfleet's presence, towns like Botwood hadn't changed much. They'd retained the unhurried, peaceful atmosphere which was their trademark. They'd long ago learned the lesson the rest of humanity had fought bloody wars to learn. Ambition for financial wealth and power meant little. He who dies with the most toys still dies. He liked the simple equality of the belief.
He liked a lot about this place. Especially a little hole in the wall restaurant overlooking the deep blue of the harbor. The Dockside, in one incarnation or the other, had been around since the late 20th century and was housed, he understood, in what had once been the town's jail. The bars still decorated the intimately lit dining area, setting it apart from the entry way and the lounge room off the entrance hall.
Kirk had been dining there every night since he'd arrived. The food was fantastic but he had to admit, it was the Dockside's enigmatic owner, Calandre, that kept him coming back. She greeted him with a friendly smile and a beer - the good stuff - and her husky voice calling his name. Seeing her and hearing her, never failed to send a charge through his body. The heady feeling of new attraction was more than enough to keep him coming back but truly, the sexual attraction had very little to do with it.
Calandre, he was convinced, wasn't human. There was an ageless feel to her, a knowing look in her eyes, and a way about her that made people open up. Secure in the knowledge that no matter what they told her, she would listen. He'd found that one out for himself for the first night. Sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and talking about his life. His experiences. From the horrors of Kudos the Executioner to the demonic cloud which drained the life out of anyone it enveloped. And, throughout it all, Calandre listened. Refilled his drink and, when he was ready and only when he was ready, offered comments and sympathy without patronizing him.
"Jim..." There she was, right on cue, with a smile on her face and the beer in her hand. "You look tired."
"How tired?" He inquired with a grin, settling in at the bar as she drifted down to the other end, refilling a glass for another patron.
"About five times worse than exhausted." She elaborated, glancing over at him.
"Only that?" His grin widened before he lifted his beer to his lips, taking a fortifying swallow. "Feel about ten times worse than dead tired. Explain to me, how a day spent watching screens and listening to briefings can leave you more tired than taking on twenty Klingons?"
Calandre gave him a look, laughter in her eyes, and leaned on the bar. "Hungry?"
"Starving." He countered, giving her a wicked look in return.
She laughed aloud. "Shameless."
"Only with you." He promised, catching the rag she tossed lightly at him.
"Utterly shameless." Calandre affirmed, disappearing into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with a large plate of food and set it before him. "Eat."
Not an order he was particularly averse to following, he happily dug into the steaming plate while she dealt with other customers, listening as a young man in Sciences blue poured his heart out about his partner and the troubles they'd been having. He half-listened as Calandre soothed the boy's worries with some concoction that turned purple with sparkles and some advice that didn't sound like advice. She was especially good at that, he'd noticed. Phrasing things in such a way that the listener didn't really realize she was helping them come to the decision or realization they needed to reach.
"Last night I hear." Calandre was before him again, her eyes watching him with curiosity and some sadness.
He nodded. "The re-provisioning should be done by tonight so, back to San Francisco for orders and shipping out."
"Off to who knows where to discover who knows what." She teased with a smile that somehow gave him the impression she knew full well what was out there. Full well what he was going to see.
"Exactly." He agreed, smiling back before saying, more suddenly than he'd planned, "Feel like taking a walk down by the water? With me?"
Calandre looked at him for a long moment, then around the room, and signalled one of her waitresses to take over. "I'll get my coat."
"We'll be getting snow soon." She observed, closing her eyes and lifting her face into the air.
"How can you tell?" He asked casually, automatically slipping an arm about her waist, steadying her as they walked.
"You can smell it on the wind." Calandre opened her eyes again, looking at him. "The edge in the air, the change."
"I don't smell anything." He observed, mimicking her earlier actions and nearly stumbling over a pile of seaweed. The gaffe elicited a soft laugh from his companion who slipped her arm about his waist. "Just the water."
"You haven't been here long enough." She pointed out logically. "I'm sure, were this Iowa, you'd be telling me what was coming on the wind."
Jim nodded. "True enough."
They walked in companionable silence, comfortable with each other, the sea air bracing them and he realized he would miss her company. No one had ever listened like she did. But, he had a feeling, no one human could.
"Ask." She said quietly, surprising him.
"Hmm?"
With knowing eyes, Calandre smiled, slipping her arm through his and hugging it. "Ask."
"All right." He returned the smile. "Who are you? What are you? Where are you from? Really?"
"Really?" She stopped, finding a rock and settling down on it, pulling him down beside her. "Well..." Lifting her gaze to the water, she watched the ebb and flow of the tide as she answered, "I am a Listener, an El-Aurian. That is the proper name for my people but...we are listeners first and foremost. My home...my home is very far from here. You could not reach it in your lifetime." Turning her gaze from the water, she looked at him, reaching out to lightly trace his jawline. "I came here many years ago. Many, many years ago. I liked it. So...I stayed. Humans are a fascinating people...Especially here." She gestured to the land and water about them. "It sounds silly but...this place, these people, remind me of home."
"The best of both worlds." He murmured, making her laugh.
"Yes, Jim, that's it exactly."
"Does anyone else know? About you?"
She shook her head. "No. You're the first. The first one who really looked...who saw me."
He kissed her then. Slow, careful...promising. Asking a question.
She answered it by standing and offering her hand.
They made love that night. More than once. Taking their time each time and, for a while, he was tempted to ask if these 'Listeners' she spoke of had the ability to slow down time. To bring it to a crawl. He was tempted to ask but he didn't. If it was not among their abilities then he wished the illusion that it was to stay with him forever. Instead, he contented himself with exploring the line of her back with his lips, his hands committing her curves to memory. It would be years before he saw her again and he wished very much to remember until he did.
The certainty of that belief, that he would see her again, didn't much surprise him. He had a sense that no matter when he came back to Botwood, walked into that bar, she would be there. It was a concrete fact. Like the fact space was a vacuum and the Enterprise – his home.
He woke to a beautiful morning only somewhat marred by the infernal seagull that insisted on flying overhead and demanding breakfast. Beside him, Calandre was still sleeping, lying on her stomach, face turned toward him, and one hand resting on his chest. He stayed there longer than he should have, watching her sleep, before he finally admitted he needed to get ready.
A replicated breakfast wasn't nearly as good as what he would have gotten at in the kitchen of the Dockside but it was good enough. Calandre didn't complain when she woke to a cup of replicated coffee and a not-so-replicated kiss. She didn't ask when he was leaving, just smiled and took the cup. Relaxed, she stayed in bed, watching him pull on his uniform, making small talk as he stepped into the pants. Teasing him when he very nearly fell over. Starfleet didn't exactly make their uniforms easy to get into.
When he sat down on the edge of the bed to fight with his boots, she leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Excited?"
"Terrified." He countered, enjoying the frank honesty her mere presence seemed to encourage. It was easier to tell her things than most. "It's the Enterprise."
"A lot of history." She agreed. "Archer, April, Pike..." Turning her head, she kissed his neck then murmured, "Kirk," into his ear. "I think he fits in that list quite nicely."
"Did you know any of them?" He asked, struck by the thought.
"Archer." She revealed with a nod. "You would have liked him." Mirth danced in her eyes as he turned his head to look at her. "If you didn't drive each other crazy first."
Jim laughed, kissing her. "I have to go."
"I know." Calandre kissed him again, settling back on the rumpled sheets. "I'll see you when you get back."
Walking from the room, he smiled. He liked her certainty.
As expected it was five years, plus a promotion, and a failed marriage before she saw him again. But, without warning, one evening, Admiral Kirk walked into the Dockside and still found a beer and a smile waiting for him. El-Aurians, it seemed, were difficult to surprise.
"You're late." Was all Calandre said as he sat down.
"Got lost for a while." He responded, tasting the beer. "Sorry."
"Mm...No need." She reached out, brushing her fingers over his brow, as if reading the cares that were now etched into it. "Tell me."
And he did. It poured out of him. The entire five year mission, the return to Earth, the promotion, the instant realization it was a mistake..and Lori. He told her about Lori. The entire disaster from beginning to end.
Just as he remembered, from Calandre there was no judgements, no recriminations, no comments on what he could have done differently, what he should have done differently. She simply listened. Her eyes on him, her attention on him, and her acceptance surrounding him. The title of 'legend' slipped away and he found himself remembering what it was to be that excited young man, on the brink of his first command, with no idea of what lay ahead of him. Of the adventure, the friendship, the disasters, and the successes.
"Don't do that." Her words surprised him. Calandre had never spoken like that before but even as he met her gaze with wide eyes, he could see her intent. "Don't compare then to now." She smiled. "Then only helped make now."
"I miss then." He commented softly.
"Live long enough, you find everyone misses then. It's why everyone waxes poetic about the 'good old days'." She turned, taking the plate brought to her by a server and putting it before him. "They tend to forget there's no such thing."
He slanted a look at her over the plate, silently questioning, waiting for her to explain herself.
She answered the look with a softer smile. "Tell me, Jim, when you were out there, when you lost a crewman...did you wish for the good old days when you were a cadet? And when you were a cadet, were there times you wished for the good old days when you were growing up?"
"It's all a matter of perspective." Jim agreed with a nod. "Humanity's never satisfied."
"An endearing trait." She teased with a grin, lightly touching his hand.
He chuckled at the comment and tucked into the food, putting away most of it in companionable silence. Calandre wasn't standing before him but he wasn't out of her awareness. Somehow, she always seemed able to be aware of everything at once. He was quite convinced there was little that went on in the Dockside, or in the town itself, that she didn't know about. Whether that was Calandre or a trait of her race, he didn't know. As far as he'd ever been able to tell, she was the only El-Aurian he'd ever met. Though, she maintained, there were more moving about the Federation - Earth in particular - than just her. Humanity, it seemed, fascinated the El-Aurian race to no end.
"You're right." She agreed suddenly, stopping before him to lean on the bar. "Humans do fascinate us. We can't help ourselves..."
"It's a perfect fit." He countered with a grin. "We like to talk, you like to listen."
Calandre smiled widely, pushing a dark curl out of her eyes. "You have much to say and I have much to hear..." The personalization of the comment drew his full attention and she tilted her head slightly, looking into his eyes. "So...what is it you wish to say now?"
He reached out, his fingers sliding back the rebellious curl which had again fallen into her eyes. "Walk with me?"
She smiled, nodding. "I'll get my coat."
TBC in Part 2