What IF

"Captain?"

Una paused. "Chris?"

Pike forced his attention back to his first officer and repeated her last statement, "All boards green, Sickbay reports no injuries or illnesses and no patients undergoing treatment or under observation."

"So you are listening. Your silence combined with that spacy look led me to conclude otherwise," she replied.

"I always hang on your every word," he tried a familiar tease, but it fell flat.

Una continued delivering the status report. "Our circumnavigation of the asteroid belt is proceeding as expected, no, better than predicted. One week into the journey we are still on schedule. No systems degradation, no variances in the outer ring of gases which surround the field. No needed course corrections. To sum up … boring."

"Well," he paused, "there's a first for us."

"Indeed. Recommend we cancel the standing yellow alert, resume normal shifts, and find something interesting to do for the remaining two weeks."

Pike leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "Concur. Put extra resources on the long-range sensors. Tell folks to dust off their pet projects. Anything else?"

"No. You may resume daydreaming."

"I wasn't …"

Una shot him her 'I'm playing along but I don't believe you' look. "Since we'll require little captaining for the next couple of weeks, follow your own directive and spend time indulging in a favored activity."

"I was referring to professional pursuits," he quickly reminded, too quickly.

"Who said I wasn't?" she answered in an overly innocent tone of voice.

Damn, she caught me, as usual, he thought then nailed her with a steely glare. "Una."

She lifted her chin as if in challenge. "Chris."

A chuckle. Don't take the bait, that is what Phil is hoping for. Pike said, "We're done here. Go manage someone else."

"Louvier and his delinquent crew evaluation reports are next on my list." She flashed an eager grin.

"For the inevitable betting pool which will spring up, give me ten credits on our chief engineer."

Her grin widened.

"I just bet against you," Chris pointed out.

"Exactly. You … well … when have you ever won a bet? If Spock hadn't counted cards on Janus XII the mission would have ended very differently. Very differently."

Chris wrinkled his nose at her emphasis. A poised yet hasty exit from the ready room ensured Una had the last word.

"Computer dim lights, switch screens and ports to external view," Pike ordered. He settled in a chair near the largest window. Una misses nothing.

Reminders of the first time he met Aalin had nudged all morning. He let the memories roam freely.

Enterprise had been docked at Earth, its home port, completing preparations for the mission to Varia. He remembered the weather in Paris was blustery, raining. It's odd, the details that stick, he thought.

His last commitment for the day was a meeting at the State Department, after which he planned an overnight visit to his house and an indulgent lengthy horseback ride. As participants entered the conference room and greeted him or introduced themselves, he noticed a woman slip in a side door, nod to a colleague, and claim a chair along a far wall. One away from the table rather than at it. He couldn't pull his attention away from her – pretty blue green eyes, light brown hair that reminded him of the desert and summer honey, a wrap dress that modestly hugged her curves, her thumb touching the pad of each finger as if counting which he now knew was Aalin's tendency to think and speak in lists – and he had kept her in his peripheral vision. The attraction was immediate, it tugged insistently at him.

Since the briefing was a rehash, he employed the skill all commanders rely on – listening to multiple conversations and tuning in when his focus was required – while another part of his mind followed the woman's movements and cataloged her expressions subtle and otherwise. Una didn't miss that either.

Then Aalin spoke, just the one time, pointing out an inconsistency in source materials of the Varian language. An observation all ignored including me, an observation containing a vital key to the mission's success. Her voice drew me in, it was … is beautiful, melodic. At the time I thought of us laughing over a private joke, I wanted to hear her call my name. I knew her murmured words would soothe away the rough edges of a trying day.

The briefing ended. Ambassador Shran cornered Pike. Aalin left the room. Rather than finding her I returned to the ship after Shran and I spoke.

Chris' thoughts then wrote a different ending to that meeting:

A couple of queries led him to her office. The door was open, he stopped in its frame. "I'm …"

Aalin stood and said in greeting, "Hello Captain."

"May I?"

She gestured to a chair and took the opposite one. "Of course. How may I help you?"

"Have dinner with me," he said with a disarming smile.

Her head tilted slightly. "Oh. Ah. I thought you had a question about … the briefing."

His smile deepened. "I could have led with that, but why waste time? I didn't seek you out for a work discussion." Aalin looked away for a moment, Chris assumed she was covering amusement, or shyness, or both.

Resuming eye contact she asked, "Has anyone ever said no to those dimples?"

Chris' brow creased slightly; his expression was thoughtful as if considering the question. Then his cheek twitched, and one side of his mouth ticked up. "Tholians. Klingons. A few admirals. Definitely my mother."

She shook her head as if in surrender. "Then I don't stand a chance."

"So that's a yes then?"

"Yes." She smiled as she spoke, it reached her eyes. Chris liked that.

"Excellent. Restaurants are busy and noisy. I prefer to avoid them when on leave. Come to my place. I'll cook."

"That's a nice offer but I'd never get a seat on a shuttle, or a transporter spot out of Paris this late on a Friday afternoon."

He pulled out a communicator. "I have a transporter of my own."

Aalin chuckled. "And, I'd guess, a bay full of shuttles."

"True. But mentioning those is very close to bragging and I'm a humble guy. Besides, why waste time on a shuttle ride?"

"OK. I'll go change and meet you there."

"No need. You look lovely."

Her cheeks pinked and she failed to completely hide the pleasure his comment brought. "You're very smooth."

"I'm inspired. However, my normal … shall we say … less than suave self will soon resurface. Eventually I will tell you all about my horses. In detail. A lot of detail."

"So the charming Captain will turn into a …"

"Geeky pumpkin," Chris finished. "A gumpkin. Who gets … who loses … coherent speech in the presence of a woman I'd like to get to know." The dimples returned. "See it's happening already."

"I think I'm going to like the gumpkin just as much as the dashing officer."

Chris suppressed the satisfaction her observation gave. He stood. "Shall we?" She nodded. He contacted the ship.

Before dinner Chris gave Aalin a guided tour of the barn. He noted she carefully yet unobtrusively stayed out of arms reach of the horses yet never expressed discomfort via words or body language. She asked thoughtful questions, her interest felt genuine.

After dinner they sat side by side on the sofa. Retrieving the decanter from a side table Chris asked, "More wine?"

"Ah … it's very good … and I'm tempted … but … no." Aalin rolled her eyes and admitted. "I get tipsy very fast."

They talked. At some point during the conversation Chris held out a hand and she clasped it. And they talked. For hours.

He raised her hand to his lips and bestowed a light kiss. "Dance with me."

Aalin said, "I'm … really bad at dancing. No rhythm. And I don't want your predominate memory of me from this evening to be the number of times I stepped on your toes." She realized her head was resting on his shoulder. When she moved to sit up Chris tugged her back into his arms.

He tilted her chin up. "May I kiss you?"

She nodded. "I was hoping you would."

Their lips brushed then settled together. His hands encircled her waist, hers slid around his neck. The kiss was gentle with hints of intimacy. When their lips parted Chris leaned his forehead against hers. Their second kiss was still tender, and it lingered, each reluctant to part. His fingers traced circles on her back, her hand caressed his cheek.

Pulling away Aalin said barely louder than a whisper, "It's late. I should go."

"Or you could stay," Chris said. "If you want to that is."

Her reply was immediate. "I do. I normally don't so soon, but I do want to stay with you."

"Captain, I've downloaded the message traffic from the long-range communications buoy, as you requested," came a call from the bridge.

Pike closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. "Send the official communiques to the ready room, distribute the rest to the recipients."

"What if?" he asked out loud.

"Excuse me sir?"

"Nothing," Pike assured and closed the channel.

What if? he thought.

What if I had made a different choice that day? Would she have joined the first Varian mission eliminating the need for a second? Would she have avoided the trauma of surviving the attack in the refugee camps?

Would we be lovers now? Or would I have shied away even then when the stakes weren't so high?

The ready room suddenly felt small and confining. Like a cage. To bury the nagging questions, questions probing too close to all he was avoiding, Pike decided to roam the ship.

ooooo

When he entered the mess hall on deck three, Spock made a beeline for him. "Captain, may I have a moment of your time? Actually several moments are required. It is of importance."

"Of course."

"Please join me." Spock gestured at a table in the corner.

Retrieving a bottle of water and a fresh apple Pike sat opposite the Vulcan. "What's on your mind?"

Spock had carefully planned his stratagem. "I am conducting a detailed study of the complex chemistry which draws two sentient beings together as lovers and pairs them as mates, particularly humans. May I ask a few questions of you?"

Instinct warned Pike to refuse, that there was more to this request than one of Spock's typical extracurricular science projects. Yet, he liked seeing things through the half-Vulcan's unique point of view. And Spock's enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge always enticed. Most of all Pike was fond of this young officer. "OK. Shoot."

Spock's eyebrow raised in query.

"Let's get out of the starting gate," Pike prompted.

Perplexed by his Captain's phrasing, Spock made a note to research the term starting gate. Ongoing experience with this particular commanding officer hinted it was likely related to Terran equines.

"Ask your questions," Pike clarified.

"What do human males look for in a lover and partner?"

"You certainly start with a bang." Pike rubbed his chin. "There's no overarching answer to that. Individual desires and needs vary."

"I see." Spock formed his expression into the look of disappointment he practiced earlier in his quarters. It was subtle yet tugged at Pike's affection for the young officer. "We are unable to proceed as it is inappropriate to ask such personal questions directly of you. Thank you, sir, for your willingness to participate. Good evening." Spock leaned forward, picked up his PADD, and rose from his chair.

"Wait. Give it a go, we'll see where it lands."

The Vulcan resumed his seat. His expression remained impassive; inwardly he was pleased with the success of his ploy. "What traits do you seek in a romantic partner?"

"Hmmm. I'm not really a list kind of guy. I tend to look at the whole package rather than focusing on she must have this, or she must do that. In other words, when someone rocks your world, make room for them in your life."

"Are there commonalities in the packages you have shacked up with in the past?" Spock queried.

"Ah … umm … well," Pike stammered.

"Was my idiom inaccurate?"

"Not wrong … just … a bit crude," Pike advised.

Spock's eyebrow raised. "In other words, I should avoid its usage when I am soliciting a date?"

"Exactly. And by the way, soliciting is a loaded term with humans."

"Making a note." A pause. "I can't prove it, but I believe Dr. Boyce was having fun at my expense when he introduced the term shacked up. Is that the correct application – having fun at my expense?" Spock explained, "I am practicing human idioms this week."

"Yes, that was spot on. So ditto."

"Excuse me?"

"What traits do you look for in a romantic partner?" Pike asked.

"I have not as yet undertaken such a quest. And my father has chosen my bond mate. All that remains is her final acceptance." A pause. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"You have turned the tables on me, haven't you? Is that a tactic for stalling?"

"Yeah," Pike admitted. "Alright. What traits would I seek in a partner?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. For a couple of minutes his eyes defocused on the external details of the room. Reengaging he said, "Someone who laughs at my jokes and welcomes my tears. Someone who embraces an interest simply because it's important to me. Someone who is a lover as well as a best friend. Someone who wants to share a life rather than simply live side by side."

Pike was silent for a moment.

Then he added, "Someone who sees the wonder of a foal born at 2:00am despite the late hour, despite an unease with horses."