Fragile Moments

Two Days Later

Phil Boyce's serious mood complimented Pike's sober one when he joined his Captain in the ready room for their habitual morning catch-up. The ship's chief medical officer had read the shuttle accident report; it was harrowing, and Phil believed the account reflected Chris' gift for understatement.

"Anything of note?" Pike asked. His tone lacked its usual spark and energy. And he was not multitasking.

"No," the doctor replied.

"And Lieutenant Matthews?" Pike's formal address, his use of Aalin's rank and surname rather than given name spoke volumes and Boyce followed this lead.

"Dr. M'Benga concurs with Nurse Chapel's initial assessment. The period of unconsciousness the lieutenant experienced was simply a reaction based on her individual physiology as well as her lack of training or experience with high g-forces. Matthew's tinnitus is improving. She's symptomatic for mild radiation sickness, presenting mainly with nausea and fatigue. Your quick treatment immediately after the crash for radiation exposure reduced its severity. I've placed her on light duty for the next five days." Phil paused gauging Chris' tense posture and furrowed brow then answered the unasked question hanging in the air, "There won't be any permanent effects."

"Why her and not me? We shared the same exposure."

"Her smaller frame effectively renders her radiation dose higher than yours."

Pike nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

The doctor left his chair and circled the desk stopping by Pike's side. With the trained eyes of a professional and the concern of a friend he assessed the weary man and decided this was not the time to push. After briefly placing a hand on Pike's shoulder Phil said, "I'll be in my office if you want to talk."

ooooo

"Chris you've been hiding in either the ready room or your quarters for two days," Una remarked. Her eyes roamed the room. "And in the dark. Computer raise lights."

He uncrossed legs and leaned forward from his seat on the sofa. "Does something require my attention?"

"Well … no," she admitted.

"Then your point is moot."

Una retrieved two glasses, filled each with a healthy shot of whiskey and handed one to him. He looked up at her and noted, "It's eleven am."

"I'm not on duty and you're the Captain," she said in explanation and settled comfortably in a nearby chair. "I've seen you walk away from worse crashes. Why are you spooked?"

"I'm not," Chris protested a little too firmly, a little too quickly.

"The accident couldn't have been prevented. Or anticipated. The hazards rose suddenly creating a perfect storm," she pointed out.

"I agree," he replied. "Let's move on."

"As you wish," Una acceded.

Chris stared into the liquid then abandoned the glass on a side table.

She set her own glass down. "I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or kick your ass."

"Hoisting me on my own petard?" Pike's mouth turned upward in a faint smile, mostly rueful, which quickly faded. "How long have you been waiting to quote me to me?" he asked.

Una looked towards the ceiling. "Let's see, one … three… five … six and a half years. But I knew if I bided my time the moment would come. You were right when you said that to me."

He gave no response.

"Can I help?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," was his reply. "This may be beyond repair." Pike's voice dropped to a whisper meant only for his ears. "Given what I now know about others in her past, walking away will protect Aalin from more heartbreak. If I can't escape my doubts, or worse if my feelings for her are manipulation, don't I owe her that care and kindness?"

"Sparing her heart and breaking yours," Una said.

His voice grew still softer. "Yes."

She retrieved her glass and sipped from it. After consideration she said, "Your answer is in the subtext of your words. Read between the lines. Giving up your own happiness for another's wellbeing is love, real love. Reach for it."

"I don't know …" he began.

"Chris, the fact your protective instincts are in overdrive is another clue." Una's tone was adamant.

"Perhaps."

She looked away; her fingers rapidly tapped the chair's arm. "I'm unused to seeing you indecisive. Frankly, it's unnerving."

Chris picked up his glass and swirled the liquid before downing it in one swallow. After a few seconds he spoke. "My instinct warns this is one of those fragile moments where inches swiftly become miles rendering choices irreversible. Caution is warranted and vital."

"Lately, with the lull, I've been thinking about Talos," Una admitted.

His eyes narrowed. His hand moved in the slightest of tremors.

She continued. "Please let me finish. This is hard to say well. I didn't suffer the same degree of physical and emotional pain they inflicted on you because you protected us – me, Vina, and Mia. That gives me more … space to reframe. You and I worked through the embarrassing secrets revealed by the Talosians selfish actions and our friendship is stronger and deeper for it."

"Is there a buried message in there?" he queried with a hint of annoyance.

"That's for you to decide," Una replied as she stood.

ooooo

That Evening

Frazzled from events, exhausted from the radiation poisoning, aching from the extra gravity that had pressed her muscles like a heavy roller, Aalin didn't protest when Spock relieved her of duty early in her shift. She retreated to quarters.

There, on the small all-purpose table, a vase of her favorite flowers, lily of the valley, sat next to a cupcake and a round container. When she removed its lid the escaping aroma stroked her appetite in spite of the queasiness. Homemade, she thought, picturing with a smile Chris experimenting with this and that until perfecting his offering. Her fingers brushed the delicate flowers, their softness felt like a caress.

The accompanying PADD read: I know soup is most likely to tempt you. Please eat. Chris.

ooooo

After resolving a minor problem in engineering Pike gratefully retreated to his quarters. He rubbed the back of his neck while rotating it up, down, left, and right to ease the kinks. Dinner didn't appeal, instead he ordered coffee from the replicator.

An envelope rested on the kitchen counter. It's heavy elegant paper and faint floral scent immediately identified the sender. Aalin favored handwritten notes. She considered digital messages too ephemeral for the important. He liked this eccentricity of hers – a lot.

Today was the first time she'd made use of the walk-in privileges granted to his quarters.

He carried the envelope and coffee into the other room and settled on the bed. The note inside read:

Chris – Now I understand the words I internalized were not the words you said. I painted your honest admission of doubts about us and your request for time to work through those doubts with the brush of hurts inflicted from others in my past. That was unfair. And a disservice to the man that you are. – A

From a side table he retrieved a box and lifted its lid adding this note to the others the box safeguarded.