I Need Time
Right on schedule, Phil entered the ready room the following morning. Today he carried two thermoses and set one in front of Pike. "From my stash of real Tanzanian peaberry beans. I heard you had a late night on the bridge." At Chris' raised eyebrow he added, "Don't worry, Chef brewed it. I know when to leave things in the hands of the master." Phil took a chair on the opposite side of the desk comfortably slouching into it.
Leaning back in his chair, Chris sipped the fragrant brew, closing his eyes in appreciation. Coffee was one of his few indulgences. He tipped his thermos at the CMO in appreciation then explained, "Getting close enough to analyze the asteroid field in our path without being drawn into it was painstakingly intricate. Number One and Amin had the worst of it."
"Any conclusions?"
"It's dense, massive, and unusual. So far, the probes we've launched failed to return any data. Lucero's science teams and Louvier's engineers agree we should go around it. They estimate that will take three weeks at a minimum. We'll spend a few more days gathering information in order to determine how wide a berth is needed for safety while remaining close enough to map it."
"Wish you'd opted for the mail runs between Earth, Vulcan, and Andoria rather than deep space exploration?" Phil queried his eyes dancing with merriment.
"Not a chance," Chris replied with a slight smile. "In addition to a plethora of asteroids, dwarf planets with orbiting moons, comets and other ice bodies, this field has a number of mysterious properties. And may be worth outfitting a specialized ship to explore it internally. Which starts with us sorting out if that is possible. Spock … well I've heard him utter fascinating more times in the past forty-eight hours than during the prior three months. When I checked in with the bridge this morning, he was still in the science lab."
"It is amusing seeing Spock behaving like a child on Christmas morning whom Santa richly favored."
"Or a kitten who has jumped into a box full of toy mice and crackly balls," Chris added.
"What, no horse metaphor? Should I haul you to Sickbay for an exam?" Phil teased.
Chris rolled his eyes.
"So how are things with you and Aalin?"
"That was subtle," Chris noted with a hint of sarcasm as he began sorting through reports vying for his attention.
"No reason to beat around the bush," Phil countered. He peered at his friend. "Or is there? You know, playing with your PADDs isn't going to disappear me in a puff of smoke."
Chris mumbled something undecipherable.
"What was that?"
Chris mumbled again while burying his attention in a maintenance request.
"Use your big boy voice," Phil prompted.
"We haven't seen one another nor spoken. Other than when I was looking for Spock a couple of days ago," Chris repeated looking and sounding sheepish.
The doctor abruptly sat up and moved to the edge of the chair. "You kissed the girl … you were close to … you know what with the girl … and, to use an antiquated idiom, you haven't called the girl since then? Other than to find your Vulcan? Are you a moron? I hope so because otherwise I'd have to conclude you are totally lacking in any social graces." A pause. "If you were five, I'd send you to your room to contemplate the error of your ways," he finished in a huff.
With a sigh Chris admitted, "Age wouldn't matter to my father, he'd do the same today. A lot is going on … has need my attention … I've …"
Phil leaned forward. "If you want a relationship with this woman, she can't always be prioritized after the crew, the mission, the ship. You wanted to spare her from gossip. Don't you think the crew will notice if you purposefully avoid her?"
"You're right."
"What?" Phil prompted.
"You heard me," Chris said firmly.
"Yeah, but that phrase is so seldom uttered to me by this crew, particularly the senior officers, and even less so by one senior officer who is in this room but shall remain nameless. I decided to luxuriate in the moment."
"All of your points are … spot on," Chris conceded. "This is not an excuse, but I've been waiting for the right time, until I have more than a few minutes in the wee hours of the night or at the start of her shift. I don't want our conversation to be rushed."
Phil settled back in his chair. "Alright then. So you've abandoned your earlier plan to break it off?"
"No."
ooooo
On this third day after that night, as Aalin had begun referring to her and Chris' interrupted liaison, another day slowly passing without speaking with him, her earlier benign uncertainties morphed into a whispered doubt. As the day continued the doubt buzzed in her mind with increasing frequency, retreated briefly when swatted, and then resumed. Logic argued with emotion. Emotion dredged up previous hurts, experiences best left in the past. By the end of her shift she was tense and arguing with herself.
Tonight, needing to be alone, she was grateful to have her own quarters, a rare perk for a lieutenant with no seniority. Every inch on crowded deep space vessels was optimized leaving no permanent work area for the ship's linguist. At times, the information she translated was classified demanding privacy rendering quarters her lab. Though given a choice, most days Aalin would pick the roommate over the perk, thinking it would have been a nice way build a friendship and integrate into the crew. Her roommates from college had remained best friends.
Describing her path into Starfleet as winding and unexpected would be an understatement. As a state department interpreter she accompanied a delegation of Federation Ambassadors on a tour of the Gileseian refugee camps and stayed behind as a teacher. That led to the Varian mission then a life on Enterprise. Because of the nature of that path Aalin had few personal items with her, only things she always carried when traveling – a frequently reread book, a portable music player loaded with a couple of favorites, a shell bracelet made by and gifted from a nephew – and the remembrances from the orphans on Noohra. This left her quarters standard issue and not yet feeling like home.
Stressed and edgy, she sank into the armchair and played a round of 'what I miss most from civilian life.' Lolling in a long hot silky bubble bath surrounded by candlelight was currently at the top of the list. Bathtubs were not standard issue in junior officers' quarters. I wonder if that perk is available to the senior officers.
Also, freshly baked bread. A night out on the town with friends. Real pizza. Freshly fallen snow. Cupcakes from … Chris would tease me about the outsized place of food in this list …
Thinking of him cascaded her mood lower. What's going on? Maybe he regrets … what if he's realized he's not attracted to me after all …
Or perhaps he thinks I am pushing him away, that I don't want him. I've tried to be mindful of his responsibilities and not bother him, not ask for too much, but is my passive action sending the wrong message? Is waiting for him to come to me fair? After all, yes, he hasn't reached out to me; but I've not reached out to him either. Is he staying away in order to give me an easy out? Are both of our good intentions creating a misunderstanding? She resolved to talk to Chris tonight.
Aalin glanced her watch. It read 4:00pm. No, 16:00, will I ever get used to a twenty-four-hour clock? It's too early, he's likely still working. Wait until the delta shift is half-way through. Tugging off her uniform boots and shedding the jacket, she placed wireless buds in her ears, called up a favorite on the portable music player, cranked up the volume, and indulged in her second favorite way to destress.
ooooo
Chris drummed his fingers on the wall next to the door of Aalin's quarters while waiting for her to answer the chime. Having ordered all who spent the past two days focused on the unusual asteroid field to stand down until morning, he followed his own instructions. 16:50, she's off-duty, not in the mess halls, no one has seen her in the past few hours …
Impatiently he pressed the chime button three additional times, because once is never enough.
Where is she?
What if …
Chris jabbed in his command override negating the lock and rushed inside.
Where he found Aalin standing in the middle of the room, back to the door, body swaying to what he assumed was music heard only in her head, arms gesturing. Left hand palm up, fingers curled inward then straightening, the motions repeated once, twice, three times in rapid succession as if encouraging someone. Right hand, palm facing the ground pushing downward four times, as if quieting. She nodded then her right armed moved to the center of her chest, from the movements of its elbow he discerned she was tracing a cross in midair, down, right, left, up. This continued for a several minutes. Or so Chris assumed. Mesmerized, he lost track of time; standing motionless, as if hypnotized, savoring the moment.
Closed hands raised, her fingers opened with a punch. Her arms emphatically sliced through the air; her head leaned back face turned to the ceiling. Arms thrust up. Chris expected trumpets to sound as if heralding an important announcement. He cleared his throat intending to capture her attention without startling. Aalin pulled out an earbud and turned in his direction. Her face flushed.
"Captain … Chris …"
"You didn't answer the chime … I was concerned …"
She smiled. "It's OK. I needed … to relax. Some beings sing in the shower, some meditate, I air conduct an orchestra."
"At home I'd go for a long horseback ride. Here I have to settle for reciting equine facts which bores my crew," Chris replied with a grin. He pointed to the earbuds in her hands. "Why not play something from the ship's library? You know, so you can hear the door chime or public address system?"
"Oh. This particular performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony isn't loaded into Enterprise's computer, it's several hundred years old. And my favorite."
"You can tell the difference between performances of the same song?" Chris asked his tone of voice a combination of amazed, puzzled, and disbelieving.
"Symphony not song," Aalin replied. "And yes. Can you tell the difference between how the ship feels traveling at warp six versus warp seven?"
"Of course."
"Then I rest my case." She smiled again and shook her head before explaining, "When you grow up in a family of lawyers and doctors most discourses at home turn into presenting a case."
Aalin moved closer to Chris. He stepped back. She halted and asked, "Would you like to sit?" He nodded and pulled out a chair from the small table. She took the armchair now opposite of him. For several minutes there was no sound in the room, just awkward silence. Simultaneously they said, "I should have …"
"Please, me first," Chris insisted. "I'm sorry. We ought to have talked before now and that's my fault."
"No. We both shied away. In the moment I though my reasons were good, were kind. And I'm sure you did as well."
"Yes … but …"
"No buts. Let's dispense with the unnecessary apologies and move on," Aalin replied reaching for Chris' hand.
He started to reciprocate then pulled back, resting the hand on a knee, fingers unconsciously flexing.
Aalin placed her hands in her lap and searched his face. Then in a soft voice she said, "You want to tell me something, something you believe will hurt."
Damn, she reads me too well, Chris thought. He nodded.
"Go on."
Her shoulders straightened. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Chris was learning her body language. She's summoning her poise, her interpreter's persona, the one she believes lets her melt into the background, the one meant to keep others from seeing she's vulnerable.
He began haltingly, "I … us … I think we should pull back. Slow down."
She glanced down and to the side, carefully planning her response. Looking back to him she said, "You once told me the stability of a crew flows from its commanding officer." Aalin placed a hand on his arm; this time Chris didn't pull away. She continued, "And that you don't indulge in casual physical relationships on board the ship because of this responsibility. You've convinced yourself looking for a commitment before what is a more typical getting to know one another period is too big of an ask. But it's not. Not with you."
Aalin paused and smiled. "I want to give you that upfront security with my promise to try and work through our problems even when they seem insurmountable rather than simply moving on.
"But we've never …"
"That's immaterial."
Chris closed his eyes briefly. When they opened Aalin noticed their haunted look. He held her gaze and said in a sad whisper, "I'm unsure about us together. I realized that these past couple of days."
"Oh."
"I need time. Time to work through my doubts." He now understood why the cliché 'it's not you but me' was often uttered in these situations yet hated and never believed. It was truth, but it never comforted.
"I see."
Chris' inner voice insisted, Take her in your arms, make love to her; that's real. His intellect shouted back, No! I have to be sure.
Instead he asked, "Will you grant me that?"
"Yes. Of course."
ooooo
At 17:00, Team Christopher's second meeting came to order.