Redemption

Chapter 18

"Dr. Johnson. How are you?"

"Please, T'Pol, call me Steve."

"I apologise…Steve."

"I'm doing great…just settling into my new Starfleet office."

It was then that she realized he was calling her from the Starfleet Medical building.

"I hope it is comfortable."

"Yeah, it is. Listen, the reason I'm calling…about the dinner. My wife is out of town for the next few days so the earliest we could get together is Friday or next weekend."

"That is fine."

"Are you okay, T'Pol?"

"Yes…of course."

"Okay…you seemed absent-minded."

"I apologize. I have just came across some information that has surprised me." She didn't know why she was telling him this. Probably because she was still in shock over the letters.

"Oh, wanna talk about it?" he encouraged.

"It's personal."

"I won't pry then. But if you need to talk..."

"Thank you for the offer."

"T'Pol, listen. I've got a light day; no appointments till around 3pm this afternoon. Why don't you come over to Starfleet and we could have lunch here in the cafeteria? And if you change your mind I'll give you my listening ear."

The offer sounded tempting. It wasn't as if she had any plans, except to read more of Jane Eyre. And perhaps Steve would be more forthcoming with information about Margaret and Jonathan. Though at this moment nothing could shock her. Not after reading the letters. She agreed and said she'd be there at 1pm.

Jonathan ate lunch while reading one of the books he'd brought with him. Rebecca was gone for the afternoon and he was alone in the villa. She was out with an old acquaintance of hers that they'd bumped into yesterday during dinner. She was a reporter from London that Rebecca had worked with on a few assignments who was also on vacation here.

Rebecca had asked Jonathan if he minded being alone; he was welcome to join them. He'd answered that he'd have a nice quiet day by himself and no he didn't mind. She'd repeated her invitation nonetheless, hinting that Cynthia had taken quite a liking to him. Yesterday she'd teased him about it mercilessly on the drive home from the restaurant. Instead of being his usual broody self however, he'd laughed at Rebecca's hints. It had felt like old times…before the Expanse, before Enterprise had ever left spacedock.

Rebecca had noticed his change in demeanour and remarked last night that he seemed in much brighter spirits. He'd been polite, conversational and more enthusiastic about the vacation in general. A smile and a twinkle in his eye had been her only response.

On the inside he didn't feel any better, but he was grateful that Rebecca's questions about either the Expanse or T'Pol had ceased. Since she'd made the effort he'd felt obliged to do the same. It seemed when he put his mind to it he could be a pretty good actor. Besides what fun was it for her to have a companion who was constantly moody and grumpy? None.

Since their sailing trip to Beqa they'd kept themselves busy with activities. They'd gone jet skiing on Saturday morning, parasailing in the afternoon and then taken a dinner moonlit cruise of Suva that evening.

Yesterday he'd booked himself on a diving expedition. From Suva he'd taken a shuttle flight in the morning to the island of Ovalau and met up with a group of divers in Levuka. They'd gone scuba diving amongst the Ovalau reefs exploring the old shipwrecks that had sunk in the 1900s. It had been an amazing experience and he'd taken several underwater photographs that he'd shared with Rebecca at dinner that evening, before bumping into Cynthia.

Keeping busy seemed to be the answer to the problem. It gave him and Rebecca less time to talk about his problems and secondly it gave him less time to think about them. However, now and then he'd find his mind wandering to thoughts of T'Pol — curious as to whether she'd enjoy such activities herself.

After two days of non-stop activity Rebecca and he had both decided today would be a day of rest. She hadn't gone to Ovalau with him, but had a busy day herself nonetheless. She'd taken an all day hiking expedition to Koroyanitu National Park. When they'd met up for dinner last night they'd both been eager to share their individual tales of adventure.

They'd planned to spend today together either just lying on the beach or going for a relaxing walk. But with the appearance of Cynthia, who was flying back to London tomorrow afternoon, Rebecca had wanted to spend some time with her old friend and that was perfectly understandable.

The afternoon passed quickly as he became engrossed in his book. It made a change, usually he found himself rereading the same line over and over. But his concentration seemed to be in gear today. And he'd been sleeping well which was good news. He'd had no more nightmares since the one a few night's ago. He was grateful that luck was holding out on his side.

Rebecca's Freudian theories might just hold weight, he thought. Since his thoughts hadn't been occupied with his guilt and the Illyrians in the last few days, that could be why they didn't appear in his dreams either.

He had no idea how long this temporary reprise would last, but he tried to enjoy it for the time being. If sweeping everything under a rug was the short-term answer, then that's what he'd do.

"Hey, Jon, look who I brought with me?"

He looked up from his book and saw Rebecca standing above him with Cynthia. "Hi Cynthia," he smiled.

"Nice to see you again, Jonathan," Cynthia answered in a posh English accent.

"You two are early. I thought you were going to be gone for hours."

"Well we came back for you. We've been invited to this party on the beach tonight, and we aren't taking no for an answer," Rebecca informed him.

He didn't care for the sound of that. He was not a party person. There would probably be free booze, but even that wasn't enough of an enticement.

"Jon, don't screw your face up like that. It's unbecoming," Rebecca chided.

"I'm not," he lied. "The sun's in my eyes."

"Hmm…anyway I thought I'd make dinner for the three of us, then we'd all head out to the party at Cynthia's hotel. Cynthia, why don't you sit down?" Rebecca invited. Her friend seemed a little nervous around Jon. Rebecca smiled to herself, remembering the feeling.

"Jon, be a good host, I'm going to get some drinks. Do you want anything?"

"A beer sounds good," he answered. Cynthia asked if they had any white wine. Rebecca nodded.

"You enjoying your stay here?" he asked Cynthia, trying to be a good host.

"Yes, I've loved it. It's so beautiful here."

"Yeah, that it is."

"Sure makes a change from rainy ole England."

"I bet."

"You know you're quite a celebrity, Jonathan. The London papers were full of photos of you and your crew when you returned. Do you get stopped and asked for autographs a lot?"

Rebecca walked in with the drinks, overhearing Cynthia's question. She guessed her friend was asking about the Expanse. She hadn't told her the topic was off-limits and was concerned the subject might put Jon into a bad mood.

"Now and then. Why, you want one?" he teased.

Rebecca was relieved he was taking this so well. She handed Cynthia a glass of white wine and Jon his beer. She joined them at the table with a beer herself. She wouldn't need to start on dinner yet for another half an hour.

"Course she does, Jon! And you can sign it love Jonathan." Jonathan cocked his head to the side and gave Rebecca a smirk. Cynthia laughed.

T'Pol made her way up to Starfleet Medical. She hadn't been here for a long time. In fact she'd hadn't been here since that day four years ago when her eyes had locked with Jonathan's for the very first time.

She walked through the sliding glass doors up to the reception and asked for Dr. Johnson's office. The receptionist told her it was on the third floor. T'Pol started off in the direction of the elevator and glanced behind her. The receptionist was watching her with evident curiosity. The Vulcan analysed why…then it dawned on her: the woman thought she was Steve's patient!

Well she wasn't going to change the woman's perception now. It reminded her however that one of Steve's patients was an Enterprise crewmember. Who was it? It could be anyone from an ensign to a commander. Or perhaps one of the MACOs…though that seemed less likely. She gathered they'd be the ones best equipped psychologically to deal with what had occurred in the Expanse.

If anyone had been scarred by these events it was Jonathan. He was the one who should be seeking help. Perhaps if he knew someone else was having problems in coping with what had happened out there, he'd be more willing to open up about his own feelings to someone, namely a professional.

She exited the elevator on the third floor and proceeded through a medical bay. She stopped for a moment. This was the very spot she'd met Jonathan for the first time. He'd threatened to knock her on her ass — she'd thought him an arrogant, proud man who needed to learn humility.

Those feelings no longer existed, now the recollection was amusing. It seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had occurred since then and they'd both changed considerably. She'd been as prejudiced as he, looking down upon the human race as inferior beings, while he'd been convinced anyone in a Vulcan uniform was out to get him.

She continued to walk toward the end of the corridor where Steve's office was situated. She pressed the buzzer to his door and a young lady, presumably his assistant, answered.

"I'm here to see Dr. Johnson."

"Ah, yes, T'Pol, isn't it? He's expecting you. Take a seat and I'll tell him you're here."

Steve emerged a few moments later, apologizing for keeping her waiting. "Hope you don't mind Starfleet food."

"I do work on a starship."

"That's true. But I've heard that Enterprise's chef is the best in the fleet."

"You heard correctly."

They made their way to the cafeteria located on the top floor of the medical building. T'Pol choose a light salad with a bottle of mineral water. Steve had a turkey club sandwich with coffee. They sat down at a table by the window overlooking San Francisco Bay.

"Seems you didn't have a problem finding my office."

"No, I asked the receptionist at the front desk. However, in doing so, I believe she now thinks I'm one of your patients."

Steve chuckled. "Let's hope that doesn't leak out. Enterprise's First Officer seeks out shrink — that would make quite a headline."

"I don't believe joking about such a serious matter is appropriate."

"I'm sorry T'Pol. I didn't mean to offend your Vulcan sensibilities. Forgive me, joking and teasing is my way of coping at times. Remember my job is listening to people's problems all day."

"I am not upset. I recall you mentioning one of my fellow crewmembers are seeking your help. I wouldn't like to think the general public would think less of him or her for requesting that help."

"In an ideal world, T'Pol, no one would be judgmental. We may think we're an advanced race but seeking help for psychological problems still carries a stigma, sadly." Steve had turned serious.

T'Pol wondered if this was another reason Jonathan hadn't sought help. If it did leak out, she could imagine how unsympathetic the public would be. But the chances of that were very slim.

"Yes, I believe so. I think for a second I was a tad concerned as to what the receptionist would think about me."

"See, we were thinking along the same lines, only I made a joke of it."

"I won't deny it."

Steve smiled at her. "So, can I be nosy for a moment and ask what it was that surprised you this morning?""Is this second nature for you?"

"Being nosy? Sure! It's my job."

"But I'm not seeking your services."

"That's a no, then?"

"It is not something I can discuss with…anyone."

"Must be some secret. Or is that just the Vulcan way? Keep it all locked inside?"

"Well there is one person I may discuss it with at a later time."

"Ah, so Jonathan is your confidante," Steve smiled.

She decided not to say anymore. Steve was good at his job and was reading her too well. If she gave him any more clues who knows what theories he might begin to weave.

"I think it's great," he continued, "how the two of you are so close. He thinks the world of you."

"You speaking of the captain?"

"Of course, T'Pol."

"You've been reading Jonathan's logs." That was the only way he could have come to such conclusions.

"Yes, and in between the lines. There's a lot said there as well."

"I know it's part of your job to read his logs, but perhaps you shouldn't psycho-analyse the captain without his permission."

"You're very protective of him."

Now he was psycho-analysing her!

"Don't get upset. Like I said before, it's second nature to me. I guess it's my gift or talent — reading people. Don't have any others to speak of, so I choose to put this one to use and help others if I could."

"You always wanted to go into this branch of medicine?" T'Pol enquired.

"Pretty much…yeah. The mind is fascinating and still very much a mystery."

"And I'm not upset." She was however concerned as to what he might figure out. He hardly knew her and yet his guesses or assumptions were right on the nose.

"But you're worried that I may stumble across some truths you don't want me to?"

"Do you think I have something to hide?"

"I don't know, do you?" he asked, teasingly. She didn't answer. "To be honest you've intrigued me from the day I met you, T'Pol. And it's in my nature to dig deeper and ask questions, even if I'm not on the case so to speak. But if it makes you uncomfortable I will desist."

"I'm fine."

"Good. And just so you understand, with Jon it's not mere idle curiosity. He was a good friend of mine many years ago…it was shame we lost touch. I'm looking forward to seeing him when he comes back from Fiji."

"I understand."

"So how is he doing?"

"I haven't heard from him since I last saw you."

"Okay. But generally, is he okay? After reading some of his logs…well let's just say I can't imagine he'd not be suffering some kind of psychological effects from what he went through."

"How much do you know?" T'Pol asked.

"I've read the logs up to where you encountered the Triannons."

So he didn't know about the Illyrians yet, or what had occurred at Azati Prime.

"Steve," she whispered, "I won't lie and say he's fine, although he'd probably be furious with me for saying so. But I also can't divulge anything in such a public place, even if it is Starfleet."

The doctor was Jonathan's friend and perhaps, like she'd suggested to Phlox, he would be able to assist the captain. At first she had felt a little defensive about Steve reading between the lines so to speak. But she acknowledged that it was second nature for him. He could be just the person to help Jonathan.

This was a perfect opportunity and she'd decided to seize it. Yes Jonathan would be angry, and he'd probably go a couple rounds with her saying he wasn't going to see any shrink etc etc…but there was always a slim chance that he'd consider it, especially since he knew Steve from a long time ago.

Steve nodded. "I understand. Listen, maybe you should make an appointment with me after all? I can't imagine any of you were immune to what went on out there. And during said appointment…well if you felt inclined, you could share your thoughts about you know who."

"Let me think about it."

"Sure."

"In the meantime, weren't you going to finish a story for me?"

"Oh about Jon and Maggie?"

She nodded.

"I think you should go in black," Rebecca giggled. She'd had a few beers even before leaving for the party. "Then the women won't be able to keep their hands off you."

Jonathan's face contorted. "Right, that's what I really want. While we're at it, why don't you go dressed in that red off-the-shoulder cocktail dress I know you brought."

"Okay, you're on! The red dress it is." She laughed and left his bedroom to get dressed.

Jonathan looked at the clothes in the wardrobe. He should pick something out that would make him inconspicuous. He really didn't want to go to this party, but he had a part to play and it wasn't time yet for the curtain to fall. He pondered how long he could keep this pretence up.

He sat down on the bed and sighed. He'd been here almost a week. It had gone slowly, it felt like months since he'd been in San Francisco. Enterprise and space exploration felt like another lifetime. That's cause they are, he thought. He felt like the life he'd known had been ripped from him and he didn't have a clue how to get it back.

T'Pol had asked him if he was fit to command Enterprise. Was he? He felt like he'd been moulded into some kind of military commander and now there was no war to oversee. He felt useless. Could he ever enjoy exploration again? How could he fly through space with the knowledge that somewhere out in the Expanse a stranded ship of Illyrians was trying to find its way home?

The answer to that was he couldn't.

Maybe it was time to pack his bags up and go home. Go home and face the music so to speak. Do something pro-active. He didn't know. His thoughts were beginning to give him a headache.

He shouldn't be thinking about such things…he might bring on another nightmare.

He rifled through his toiletries bag but couldn't find any painkillers. Exiting his room he knocked on Rebecca's bedroom door. Cynthia answered saying they were trying on different outfits for the party tonight.

"What's up, Jon?" Rebecca asked as he walked in. He inquired as to whether she had any painkillers. "Sure, what's wrong?"

"Just a mild headache. Don't want it to get any stronger."

"Okay." She stepped into the bathroom, retrieved a container and passed it to him. "Here you go. Don't think this will get you out of the party though," she teased.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. So you going with the black shirt and pants?"

"Thinking about it." He thanked her for the pills and returned to his room. He went to the bathroom and washed two pills down with a glass of water.

Returning to the bedroom he slipped on a pair of black pants and noticed they were tight around the waist. "Rebecca's cooking," he mused to himself. Plus all the desserts he'd been indulging in of late.

He'd really overdone it tonight…and so had Rebecca in the cooking department. So much for her saying they'd have a simple dinner this evening. Her culinary talents amazed him!

For starters they'd had chilled avocado soup. The main course was turkey escalopes with baby new potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower and a salad. Dessert was a blackcurrant cheesecake that she confessed she'd made the previous night. Even Cynthia was amazed.

Fortunately he had another pair of black pants with him that would accommodate his sudden weight gain. They were an older pair he'd worn before his time in the Expanse. He slipped them on. They fit snugly.

Now for the shirt…something that would not get him noticed. He had a dark beige shirt — yeah that should fit the bill. He took it off the hanger and put it on. He brushed his hair, and went to see if the ladies were ready.

Rebecca came out dressed in the red shoulder-less cocktail dress, just as he'd dared her to. The dress ended just above her knees and was tightly fitted around her waist. No wonder she'd had the smallest portions at dinner. She looked fantastic! She'd put her hair up and wore long dangly gold earrings and a chain around her neck.

"I don't think we're in any doubt as to who will be getting all the attention tonight," he said.

"He can be a real flatterer when he puts his mind to it," she told Cynthia, as she smiled at Jon thanking him silently. "You didn't wear the black shirt, Jon."

"Didn't want to steal your limelight," he teased.

She didn't push it. Her instincts told her he didn't want to go to this party and he was just putting on a good act for her and Cynthia. If he looked very bored she decided she'd come home early with him.

"How's the headache?" she asked.

"Better, thanks."

He complimented Cynthia on her outfit as well. She was dressed in black pants with a shiny gold top open at the neck.

"I ordered a taxi to take us to the hotel as I assume we all wish to drink tonight. It should be here in about five minutes," Rebecca informed them.

The party was rowdy and noisy. The hotel restaurant had been turned into a dance floor. Jonathan sat nursing a whisky watching as the revellers enjoyed themselves. The doors to the restaurant had been left open, leading out onto a large deck where food was being served. It was mostly party fare with some barbecued items. After the huge dinner he'd had he couldn't eat another thing.

Rebecca had asked him to dance but he said he wasn't in the mood. She said she'd let him off for now, but expected him to dance at least once with her and Cynthia, even if he didn't feel like it.

This kind of thing was more for young people. He began to feel his age…if he'd been twenty years younger maybe this would have been his scene. He recalled a party like this he'd been to with Maggie. Even then though he'd preferred the slower ballads to dance to, where you could hold your partner close.

His thoughts switched to T'Pol. He remembered the afternoon he'd danced with her in his apartment. One of his jazz CDs had been playing in the background and it had seemed an opportune moment. She'd come to him eagerly, closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest. He'd held her tightly, luxuriating in her closeness; never wanting the moment to end.

And then he'd kissed her. At first he was gentle, then he permitted some of the welled up passion he felt for her to slip out. All too soon the music had ended and the spell had been broken. For a few brief moments he'd forgotten about everything else and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, but then reality had interfered.

He got up from his chair and ambled towards the direction of the bar. He needed another drink…one that would drown out all thoughts of T'Pol. On his way back to his seat he bumped into Cynthia.

"You all right, Jonathan?"

"Fine, thanks."

He was about to continue on his way but then remembered his manners. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks. I have a weak head."

"Okay."

"But I'd like to dance," she said as he'd started to move away from her.

"I'm not really a good dancer."

"That's not what Rebecca says," she smiled. "Besides it's not as if you have to do the tango."

Hmm…how was he going to get out of this one? It didn't look like there was any means of escape. He reluctantly agreed. He placed his drink on the table and allowed Cynthia to lead him to the dance floor.

She was a pretty girl. Of that there was no doubt. She was a few years younger than Rebecca and had dark brown wavy hair and blue eyes. Her complexion was pale. But whatever pretty or attractive women came his way, he only had eyes for T'Pol. He considered this an extension of his duties as host and a favour to Rebecca because he really wasn't in the mood for dancing.

He didn't know whether or not to be grateful but the next tune played was a romantic ballad. Yes it was more his style of dancing…but this was ideal when you were with the woman you loved.

"Something wrong?" Cynthia asked as the music began.

"No," he said.

"If I'm treading on Rebecca's territory—"

"No. Rebecca and I are good friends."

"That's what she told me."

He felt stiff and uncomfortable. Knowing that this girl was attracted to him made him uneasy. Unless of course it had all been a big joke and Rebecca had teased him just for fun. Boy he hoped so!

"So you flying back to London tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I don't envy you the jet-lag. What is it, a 12 hour time difference?"

"Yes twelve hours, but I'll adjust. I'm used to travelling and time changes."

Within a few minutes the music ended and he returned to his table. Cynthia followed him and sat down. He glanced around the room. Where was Rebecca? He swallowed the drink he'd left in one gulp.

"Do you like that stuff?" Cynthia asked.

"Whisky?"

"Yeah, I think it's ghastly."

"It's an acquired taste."

"I suppose. I guess it does the job quick if you want to get drunk."

"You think I'm trying to get drunk?" He felt a little defensive, as if she was accusing him.

"Oh no, I never meant to insinuate. Just that you'd have to drink a lot more wine and beer than whiskey or vodka to achieve the same result."

"Right."

Rebecca made a welcome appearance at this point. "Where have you been?" Jonathan asked as she sat down.

"Oh just making some new friends," she laughed. "Antonio over there was trying to buy me a drink." She pointed in the direction of the bar where a handsome Latino winked back at her. "Cynthia, would you mind getting me a beer and I think Jonathan will have another whiskey."

Her friend nodded and left.

"I saw the two of you dancing. You didn't look very happy."

"It was awkward," he replied.

"Well thanks for doing it anyway. She's really sweet on you."

"So it's not all a joke then?"

"Nah, sorry. Don't worry, it's just a little crush. I told her there was someone you're interested in anyway."

"What?" He sounded angry.

"Oh my God, here we go again. The forbidden subject. I didn't mention any names, Jon. Calm down. I'd have thought with the amount of whiskey you've consumed you'd be feeling a little mellow."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to overreact like that. I've been trying to be more…pleasant."

"I know, and I appreciate the effort." She ruffled his hair in a sign of affection. "What are we gonna do with you, Jon?"

"Is that rhetorical?"

She shrugged.

"So what's with you and Antonio?"

"He's just being friendly."

Cynthia returned with the drinks and then dashed off explaining Antonio had asked her to dance. She seemed rather excited at the idea.

Rebecca laughed. "See, she's forgotten you already, Jon! Come on, you can take me round the dance floor, just for old time's sake."

"I guess I can," he smiled and offered out his hand to Rebecca.

TBC