Finite Space
by Liz
chapter 5
in which our heroine bites the bullet, our hero opens up, and redemption is much more fun
It was early May, and the Bajoran Institute for Religious Studies in Berkley graduation ceremony took place on a Saturday morning. The last time Amanda had talked to Aaron about his plans had been before he had ended their affair, and at least in February, he hadn't had any idea what he would do after graduating besides move back to Bajor. Whatever he had decided in the meantime, Amanda knew she wouldn't get another chance to talk to him. Today was it.
She arrived close to the start of the ceremony and did her best to hide in the back, where no one would take notice. An audience in the hundreds, full of families and prestigious professors and vediks, crowded the rows of benches in the brightly lit hall, where colorful flags draped from the walls and windows which had been left open for the lovely spring air. She'd missed most of the processional; in the very front of the audience sat three rows of graduating seminarians, all of them dressed in the bright saffron robes of their calling.
From behind, Amanda couldn't tell which one was Aaron. Nor could she pick his voice out from the soft, calming chants that accented the hour-long service. She waited through the keynote addresses—one by the local high vedik (sort of like Earth's bishop), and another from a holographic recording by the Kai. The audience listened, rapt.
The words were gentle and erudite and sophisticated and kind, and not exclusive or angry. Still, Amanda felt deeply unnerved. She and Aaron had been together for months, and she'd never really grasped that this was the thing to which he had dedicated his life. It was really beautiful.
When they began calling the names of the graduates, she was shaken again. Aaron was close to the end, according to the Bajoran alphabet, and when he finally approached the dias and knelt to receive the high vedik's blessing and the small metallic charm which served as a diploma, a few female voices in the back of the hall, on the other side from where Amanda sat, burst into cheers.
The rest of the audience chuckled. There had been polite applause throughout the service, but this was the first all-out eruption from any of the spectators. Aaron himself glanced over his shoulder with a look that Amanda recognized as chagrin. The high vedik laughed and clapped Aaron on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear.
As Aaron turned to descend from the dias, his eyes glanced right at the section where Amanda was seated. She ducked her head and shifted so that she was obscured behind a taller woman.
Feeling foolish, she looked back up. Aaron was moving into his row again, but he was frowning now. He looked back over his shoulder at her once more before sitting.
Well. At least she couldn't run away now.
After commencement, the campus grounds were packed with families and friends celebrating. Cameras flashed, children whined about the hot sun, and cocktail napkins floated away on the breeze. It was just like the scene after any other graduation ceremony, but Amanda thought she observed something else. There was an darker intensity to the hugs and the cheers, as parents and grandparents who had been refugees or prisoners proudly flashed their earrings and straightened the new ceremonial robes of their graduate. No one mentioned it, but the sacrifices and pain of the older generations were being validated with each graduate to cross the stage.
A young woman stood not far away with her father, who adjusted his daughter's hood for the camera. "Here," he said, "let's stand in the sun so we can see you." When they turned and smiled, Amanda saw a vicious swath of scar tissue on one side of his face. He wasn't the only one.
Amanda felt like an intruder as she squeezed through the crowds, keeping an eye out for Aaron. Several other people were winding through the crowds, too, making the public square into one gigantic lost-and-found. At this rate, Aaron and his cheering section would be long gone before she ever found him.
A large buffet table with hors d'oeuvres and punch stood under the trees in the middle of the square. Amanda decided to get something to drink and wait there. Never one to resist free food, Aaron would be by at some point. Nervously, she helped herself to a cup of punch—noting with irony the sign by the galdatar saying, "Bajorans only, please"—and tucked herself into the shade of a tree, out of the way. She waved to a few of Aaron's classmates whom she had met; they recognized her and were friendly, although they looked at her a little curiously.
"Ellia," croacked an older man to her left, waving his hand across the plaza. He sounded like he had poorly repaired vocal cords, maybe some computerized system to help him speak. "Ellia!"
"There you are, Daddy!" said a young woman, who shoved past an especially large herd of people to where the man stood, beckoning her. "Come on," she told him, taking his hand. "Taren was just saying good-bye to some friends. We're all over here."
Amanda watched them make their way back through the masses. It was odd; not so long ago, she would have felt nothing but envy watching all of these people together. Now, she just felt a little wistful. Maybe someday she'd have a whole family waiting for her before they snapped pictures together in the sunshine. It would be nice.
"Amanda."
She jumped, spilling her punch on the ground. It was Aaron, standing behind her in his saffron robes. He looked almost magisterial. "Hi," she said nervously, wiping her hands on her skirt.
He glanced at her cup on the ground. "Sorry to startle you."
"Don't worry. It—Hi. It's good to see you."
"I didn't expect to see you here." He crossed his arms over his chest.
Amanda took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough so she could talk to him without choking. "I'm sorry to surprise you like this. I tried to contact you at home, but no one ever answered."
"I've been busy."
She nodded, even though she was sure he was lying. "So, you graduated."
"That would be one reason why I look like a chicken."
"No, it's just—you'd said before you were worried, and…" Keep breathing. "Anyway, you look really nice in your robes," she told him. "They suit you."
He scoffed, pulling the hood down so that it sagged behind his head. "They itch."
"Well, they look nice anyway." She bit her lip, but plunged ahead. "It really is good to see you again—but that's not what I came here to say."
He just kept looking at her.
"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not proud of what I said or did the last time you saw me. I can't really get it out of my head… So, I just wanted to apologize for everything. I was wrong."
Aaron didn't seem happy to hear all this. Her heart sank. "So you came here to tell me that?" he said
She nodded.
"Part of the recovery program?" he asked.
That stung, but she forced herself to keep looking at him. "No, it isn't. I came because I mean it."
"Okay," he acquiesced.
"I'm really sorry to surprise you like this. But I didn't know if you would be leaving after today. And I had to… well, I had to say something." She waited. "Do you want me to leave?"
There was a stretch of time as she waited for his verdict. Finally, he sighed. "No, don't go. You would come today, wouldn't you? I've just been ordained a vedik. I think I have to forgive you—they might defrock me or something if I don't."
She remembered Aaron talking about forgiveness, months ago. He was right—it did offer some freedom. "I'm glad," she said quietly.
"And I should apologize, too," he said. "I said some harsh stuff."
"It's okay. I kind of deserved it."
"No, you didn't!" he protested. "Good grief. If you're working on self esteem, you have a ways to go, Amanda. Listen, I had bad timing. I was angry, but I went overboard. And maybe I bailed on you when I shouldn't have." He around at the crowds. "I was thinking about you the other day. Things seem really quiet without you."
"I'll bet they do."
"I'm glad you're doing better."
"You know me," Amanda joked. "Always pulling myself up by the bootstraps." She tried to smile, but a tear slipped out of her eye, despite herself. Oh, and she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't do this!
"Here," Aaron said, pulling a handkerchief from his robes. "Take this."
"No, you don't—"
"Amanda, just take the damn thing."
She did, embarrassed. "Thank you."
Aaron seemed to be fighting something in himself. "Oh, hell," he said. "This doesn't change anything, but yes. I forgive you. Come here, Amanda." He opened his arms to embrace her.
She went to him shyly, afraid she wouldn't be able to let go. This was the last time she would see him; it had to be.
He smelled good. The incense from the ceremony clung to his skin and robes, and she could tell he'd shaved just before commencement. The smooth fabric of his robes was strange, but it also seemed appropriate, somehow. He wasn't the same person, either, not any more than she was. She closed her eyes to enjoy this moment of reacquaintance with him, however brief.
"Shit," she heard him say, his voice buzzing against her cheek. "Amanda, run."
She pulled back, surprised. "Huh?"
He was watching something approach over her shoulder, his gray eyes catching the bright sunlight. "It's my mother. Run."
"Aaron!" cried an older woman's voice from behind Amanda. She turned to see a shorter, fairer version of Aaron approaching, her arms outstretched and her mouth wide and smiling. She bridged the gap between herself and her son with alarming speed for a woman of late-middle years. "Oh, my beautiful, beautiful son, never have I been so proud in all my life! Let me give my beautiful, only son a wonderful hug!"
Amanda scooted out of the way just in time for Aaron's mother, who barely reached Amanda's shoulder, to envelope her much taller son in her arms. "I can finally die today, because my only son has done wonderful things!" she proclaimed.
"Hello, Mother." Aaron looked at Amanda pointedly, as if to say, there's still time for escape.
A young Bajoran woman caught up to them; she looked a little out of breath from having chased Mrs. Jarro across the plaza. "There you are!" she said, leaning over Aaron's mother to give him a peck on the cheek. "Congrats, you big stud."
Amanda felt like she'd been slapped in the face. He had a new girlfriend. And why shouldn't he? They weren't together anymore. He'd made that clear. And a young, handsome Bajoran vedik was such a prize for any Bajoran woman who might be looking. This newcomer ("this bitch," Amanda thought) was about Amanda's height, with dark, wavy hair tumbling down her back. She looked back at Amanda frankly with gray eyes.
"Who's this?" the young woman asked. She had a low, confident voice. Aaron's mother suddenly broke off both the hug and her rambling monologue to stare at Amanda in surprise.
Aaron rolled his eyes to the heavens and mouthed a short prayer. "Mother and Mari, this is my friend Amanda Jackson."
Amanda noticed the girl's—Mari's—brows raise in surprise. She didn't have time to respond, though, because Aaron's mother was gasping in surprise. "Oh, a young lady! Aaron!"
Amanda shook her head desperately. "I'm not—I didn't mean to intrude, I mean—"
"You're not intruding! My son never told me he had a girlfriend. Oh, my dear, and you're so pretty!"
Mari was studying Aaron with curiosity as she slipped an arm around his waist. He looked like a ship tossed about by three monstrous, female waves. Helplessly, he shook his head. "Mother, she isn't—"
"And how long have you known my son?" Mrs. Jarro asked. Amanda blinked, not sure how to respond.
Aaron saved her. "Mother, please be polite to my friend. Amanda, may I present my mother, Jarro Tuli, and my sister, Jarro Mari?"
"Your sister!" Amanda exclaimed, before she could stop herself. Well, of course. They even looked a little bit alike, with the same dark coloring that must have been their father's. Quickly, she tried to cover. "It's very nice to meet you."
"What, didn't Aaron mention me?" Mari said, not letting anything slip past.
"Mari, back off," Aaron told her.
"He mentioned you," Mari said pointedly. "At least he did to me."
Mrs. Jarro suddenly looked like she was about to have a stroke. "What!" she demanded. "You told your sister about your beautiful girlfriend, but you didn't tell your own mother! You don't trust your own mother to tell her about your love life. Oh, and here I was so proud of you, and now this?"
"Mother," he said through gritted teeth. "Please. I am not going to listen to your theatrics today. Now why don't we all thank Amanda for coming, and then we can go to dinner?"
"What, did you two have a fight or something?" Mari said. Amanda had a brief memory of her brother Nathan, and how one time he'd caught her talking on the com link to a boy from school, late at night. He'd taken great pleasure in blackmailing her for the next week.
Their mother ignored this. "Don't change the subject, and don't try to keep me away from this nice young lady." She marched up to Amanda and grabbed her by the arms. "My son has never trusted me, but I only want the best for him."
Amanda shot a desperate look at Aaron, who didn't seem thrilled, either.
"Mom, maybe you should back off," Mari suggested, finally coming to her brother's defense.
"You be quiet," Mrs. Jarro said without looking. "Darling, come have dinner with us. I insist."
Amanda found herself swept up in the flood of talking that was Jarro Tuli and carried off to dinner with no chance to protest. Mari and her mother were staying in a full suite on Telegraph Avenue, not far from campus, so they walked there in five minutes, during which Aaron and Mari successfully prevented Tuli from grilling Amanda only by the use of constant bickering.
"Now where did you meet my son?" Tuli would ask her as they wove through the crowds.
"Mother! Please stop!" Aaron called from behind.
"Won't help," Mari told him dryly.
"Whose side are you on?"
"Come on, the last time I brought someone home, all you did was offer him a beer and update us on the Federation Cup scores."
"Of course, I'm a guy. That's what we do."
"No, it isn't! You're supposed to behave like a gentleman."
"What, and challenge him to a duel?"
And so on. Amanda decided as they reached the front doors of the hotel that Mari and Aaron had at some time in their family history come to the understanding that the only force more powerful than their mother was the two of them in active combat.
The suite was a generous size—Amanda wondered how much money Aaron's family had to afford it—and Tuli and Mari had dinner waiting, ready to be heated up upon their arrival.
"It smells very nice," she said timidly. "I guess your whole family must cook—not much replicating."
Tuli basked in the compliment. "Absolutely. Cooking is a wonderful art, I always say. It's a sign of civilization! And, when life is too difficult to talk about…"
"Eat until you pass out," both her children said in unison. They all laughed, even Aaron.
"That's if you have enough food to go around," Mari pointed out. "When Aaron and I were kids, after Dad died—"
"Hush, we're talking about happy things today," Tuli said. "Aaron, you're looking skinny. Are you getting enough to eat?"
"Mother, it's the end of term. I've been busy."
"Well, thank the Prophets that's over, or else in another few weeks I wouldn't have a son left!" She took Amanda by the arm and led her into the suite's smallish kitchen. "Come on, darling. Help me pour the drinks, and we'll gossip."
Amanda looked at Aaron, desperately hoping he wouldn't hate her for having landed on his family celebration like this. For his part, he seemed equally chagrined, unable to prevent his mother from commandeering her.
Once out of earshot from her son, Tuli settled down marginally. "Now," she said, businesslike. "We need four glasses and a bottle of wine. We'll use the human stuff Aaron bought for us, since you're here."
"You don't have to do anything special on my—"
"Of course we do. You're a guest, and Bajorans know how to treat a guest. I think it's all those years of homelessness: we want to repay all the people who let us crash their parties!" She laughed, an irreverent snicker of delight. "Here, darling, open the bottle for me, these old hands have lost their grip."
Amanda took the bottle obediently, but she thought she should say something before Tuli got too far along. "Mrs. Jarro, I…"
"Tuli, please. Call me Tuli."
"I just didn't want you to think that Aaron and I are—well, we're not serious. I didn't want to mislead you."
"Posh," Tuli said. "I saw the way he held you when I walked up. That's not just some girl he took to dinner last week, I told myself. For a boy who's always had trouble holding on, he sure was keeping a pretty tight grip on you!"
"Trouble holding on?"
Tuli nodded. "The going gets rough, he gets angry, he shuts out the world. He picks up and leaves, he won't talk to anybody. Especially his mother, but of course that's true. Nobody really talks to their mother. But Aaron? He shuts off like a spigot!"
Amanda blinked. "I didn't realize that," she said.
"Oh, he's grown a lot—it was being a teenager, trying to help us build our lives when we made it to Bajor—what a beautiful day that was! But it was hard for him, trying to settle into a life with so many strange people, when he'd only known the world of our little refugee town on a moon where the universe would leave us in peace. He has held onto his silence, his privacy, I tell you. When we would fight—oh, you know mothers and sons—he never shouted, he simply left the house and scared me to death, every time."
"Wow."
Tuli sighed. "Oh, I suppose I'm exaggerating. But only a little. Aaron had a lot of pressure, the son of a hero and all that. He was a leader whether he wanted to be one or not, and when things were difficult, where could he turn? I'm his mother, but I was rebuilding. I was a mother to our people, not just to him."
This sudden confessional was overcoming Mrs. Jarro. Amanda froze, not sure what to do. And not sure how much to believe.
Tuli regained her composure, mostly. "Well. That's neither here nor there. The entire world made sacrifices, not just us." She looked up at Amanda then. "But listen to me, darling. That boy is very special to me. I want a woman who will take care of his heart. If he shuts you out but then comes back, never let go of him. It means he really loves you, and he'll always come back. Honor that."
Amanda didn't have time to respond. Aaron stepped into the kitchen. His robes hung open, revealing a ratty pair of shorts underneath. Amanda was briefly scandalized by the thought of what the other graduates had been wearing under their robes. "Mother," Aaron said warily, "do you need help?"
"We are completely finished, darling," Tuli announced calmly and marched out, two drinks in each hand. Not knowing what else to do, Amanda grabbed the bottle.
"Hey," Aaron said, grabbing her elbow before she could escape. "I'm sorry my mother cornered you like that."
She blushed. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let her bring me here. This is your family's time."
He scuffed a shoe against the doorway. "I guess we should go ahead and stop apologizing to each other."
"You first." She looked at the bottle in her hand. How ridiculous that she should be here. "Listen, I can go before dinner starts. I don't want your mother to have the wrong idea."
"Too late," he grimaced. He took the bottle from her hand. "But… I don't know, Amanda. You can stay, if you want."
"Is that okay with you?"
He rolled his eyes. "We were never this courteous when we were together. Not once. Come on, get in there. We'll talk more later."
"Really?" she said.
"Yeah. Come on."
After dinner, Aaron did his best to extricate Amanda from the grip of his family. It wasn't easy, and besides, Amanda was beginning to enjoy herself. Mari was an exobiologist, and she had incredible stories to tell about her travels from planet to planet—and the storyteller's knack that Amanda herself didn't possess. Aaron's mother, on the other hand, had been a city administrator during the crucial period of rebuilding after the Cardassian occupation, and then when money finally became available to reimburse the families of Bajoran resistance heroes, she had, to her surprise, become a rich woman.
"Since then, I've made a career of it," she said, expansively brushing her hair back from her face. "You should see what I can do to an unguarded shoe store."
Mari rolled her eyes. "Mom…"
"What?" she demanded. "My children want to dress me in black and have me mourn until I'm so old I don't remember my own name. Posh! Everybody knows I'd give it all up to have your father back, but what's the use in being so serious about it? Won't reincarnate the man."
Aaron had given up trying to temper his mother and sister since the salad dish, and had spent most of the meal laughing along with them. Amanda felt guilty for being there, knowing that he didn't want her around, whatever he'd said, so she tried avoiding his eyes. It didn't work very well. She caught him looking at her more than once.
He'd saved her from the worst of the questioning. His sister apparently knew something about her already—he had probably mentioned her to Mari when they were still together. His mother was fascinated, but he and Mari deflected most of the questions until Tuli got the point.
"Fine, I'll wait till the book comes out," she said. "But I expect you to give me the personalized version someday, Miss Amanda."
They were a small family, but Amanda could tell they were very close. Beyond all the joking and bickering, there was the feeling that the three of them were clinging to one another on a raft that was adrift in a very wide ocean—no matter how large Tuli's wealth. At one time, they had had nothing in the universe but each other. Something of that remained.
As the afternoon wore on into evening, Aaron finally decided it was time for him and Amanda to leave. He waited patiently for his mother and sisters to make their farewells.
"You make sure I see this one again, Aaron," his mother said. "I like her spunk."
Amanda hadn't felt very spunky that day, but she supposed this was something his mother said to him about all the girls.
Aaron finally extracted her from his mother and sister's suite, and walked with her silently down the stairs to the street. He held the door for her; they still didn't talk.
He waited until they were close to the metro stop. "Are you still living in the same place?"
"You mean my apartment?" she said. "Yeah. Actually, it's turned into boxes again. I got a new job, so I'm moving out soon."
"Yeah? Ricky must be heartbroken. Where's the new place?"
"There's a cheap sublet I found on Craig's List."
"Amazing how that thing still runs this city after all this time. Where's the sublet?"
"The Haight-Ashbury. Close to a transporter hub and the metro, and there's a new express service that goes to Marin from Haight and Filmore up to Marin County. I like to walk around Mount Tam if I get a day off," she said shyly.
He smiled, and she felt a sad burning inside her chest out of want for him. The dimple in his cheek was still there. "Been out to Stinson Beach?"
"Too many people. I go farther north if I can." He looked as thought he was going to follow her into the metro. "Is this your route, too?" she asked. "Or are you being chivalrous?"
"Chivalry? No way. There's a party in the Outer Mission." He smirked. "After today, I'm embarking on a life of exemplary piety. But that doesn't start until tomorrow."
"How do Bajoran seminary graduates celebrate?"
"Personally? After that dinner party, I plan to pour beer on my head and do a lot of grunting."
"Too much of the feminine touch?"
"Or maybe I can hunt down a wild animal and drink its blood straight from the carcass."
"Ritual sacrifice is underrated these days."
"Thanks for putting up with that," he said. "I should have put my foot down, but my mother… well, she gets her way a lot."
"Don't worry about it," Amanda said. "I wasn't 'putting up' with anything. I'm just glad… we could talk again. And, I like your family."
"You do?" He backed up, regretting the question. "I mean, I like them, too. But they're a lot to handle at once. Usually they take some warming up."
They fell silent for a while, until the train arrived in the tunnel. Aaron attracted some interesting looks in his ratty shorts and unfastened robe, particularly from the occasional Bajoran to board the train, but he seemed determined to follow through on his plan of debauchery and misbehavior.
"So. How are you?" he finally asked, just as they reached the east end of the tunnel.
She'd been dreading the question, even though the answer wasn't so bad. "Oh, fine, I suppose. I'm busy… I'm looking at graduate schools for the year after next. I think I might have a part-time research position out in Havana soon… Something to do," she finished lamely.
He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Good. And the rest of you?"
She shook her head. "No, don't. I know you're being kind, but… I have to keep something safe. Even from you. Especially with you."
"Right." He withdrew his hand.
"Aaron," she said, "if I start telling you everything, that will just… It will make it harder for me to say goodbye to you. It's only a train ride. Let's just go where we're going and leave it there. Okay?"
"I get it."
It was an awkward silence. "What about you?" she asked finally. "What are you doing now?"
"I told you. A life of uninterrupted piety and good behavior. I'll be a good example to my fellow Bajorans, wherever I go."
There was a derisive snort from the back of the train car, where an older Bajoran man was watching them. "Yeah, yeah," Aaron said, waving a hand dismissively at their spy. "Laugh all you want, pops. You're looking at a grade-A spiritual guide here."
The sound of the door to the next car opening and closing as the old man left in a huff was their answer. Aaron rolled his eyes. "Actually, I'm going to Cardassia Prime for three months to help rebuild an orphanage and a hospital. I leave in the fall."
She gaped. "You're going there? Haven't you heard what they're doing to aid workers?"
"Heard all of it. Kidnapping, sabotage, mugging, an occasional murder. But to the other 99 percent of the foreign aid workers, they'll serve you tea."
"Are you sure?"
"Are you asking me that because you're worried about me, or because it's Cardassia?"
"Both."
He shrugged. "This is why I've become a vedik, Amanda. It's not to give lectures or satisfy what some old coot in the back of the train thinks is proper. It's about rebuilding, reaching out. Doing the brave thing, even if it's dangerous. Now I have this degree and the robe to go with it, so I don't turn back."
"I didn't know you were considering this."
"I wasn't until we split."
"Oh."
"It was hard for me, too," he said. "It made me think. I miss you."
"Well, if my idiocy is enough to motivate you to save the lives of orphaned children, then I guess it was worth it."
"It wasn't idiocy," he corrected her softly. "It was just a tough, tough thing. And I'm glad you're on the other end."
Despite herself, she squeezed the hand that had touched her own. "I'm not always sure I am at the other end."
"Maybe not, but you look… different."
She didn't want to tell him. She knew it would be so much harder when they reached her stop if she opened up… But maybe, when she went up into the sunlight, she could pretend it was just something she'd dreamed up below the ground, and no one would know about it, not ever.
She told him about her conversation with Chakotay. She told him about going to the museum, and about talking to B'Elanna and the job she would be starting soon. She told him about everything. "So I'm trying," she finished. "Maybe I'll be okay after all."
She caught him smiling at her. "I think so."
The train slowed to a halt at Market and Powell. Amanda took a deep breath. "Thanks, Aaron. For everything. Good luck."
They looked out the windows at the crowds waiting on the platform for the train. The doors chimed, then opened. Amanda got up to leave, avoiding his eyes as he watched her rise.
Just when she started to walk away, he stood up, too. "Come on," he said, setting a determined arm around her shoulders.
"Huh?"
He walked her outside, forcing his way through the crowds to the nearest thick column, where he backed her against the concrete and kissed her long, long, and hard.
It was one hell of a kiss. Amanda grabbed his waist and held on. His lips were so wet, and he tasted like the wine they'd only just shared. She could feel him rising against her, too, hard against the soft flesh at her waist.
They were interrupted by the old man from the train, who swatted Aaron below the knees with his cane. Aaron jumped back with a surprised cry as the cane made contact with one of his shins. "Despicable," the old man snarled. "That's what we get for training vediks on Earth!" And he stormed off to the nearest lift. The people around them pretended, badly, not to notice.
Doubled over with laughter, Aaron could barely speak; he found the whole thing hilarious. Amanda was too surprised by the kiss to react. "Come on," Aaron said as he caught his breath. "Take me up to your place, and let's make up."
"What about your party?"
"There is no party. Let's go."
There was a moment, as Amanda stood by the column, with Aaron holding her hand and confidently, gently pulling her to him. She pictured him coming with her, and what it would be like to begin again. And the sex.
"If he shuts you out but then comes back, never let go of him," Tuli had said. "It means he really loves you, and he'll always come back. Honor that."
She could honor that. By letting him go.
Amanda walked up to her apartment alone, feeling the cool wind blowing hard against her—one of the downsides of living in the city proper rather than in the slightly warmer climate of the East Bay. It was so strong that it threatened to push her off balance—not that she needed any help.
It was the right choice. She loved Aaron, he was a good man, but she needed to make a new life on her own. She had to be the one to rebuild herself. Leaning on him? It wouldn't be right. Someday, perhaps, she would meet someone else, when she was ready. When she could stand on her own, it would be time, but not yet.
It was the right choice. She entered her building and went to the stairs, waving to Ricky, who was once again making repairs to the ancient and broken lift. "Hello!" he barked at her, loud enough for the first three floors to hear.
She winced. "Hi, Ricky," she said. Her voice was shaking, but she knew she was right. She was fine. It was the right choice.
Ricky yelled something utterly ungrammatical at her as she ascended to her apartment, inadvertently noting the black scrape on the wall from when she and Aaron had dropped the replicator, all those months ago. She'd repaint tomorrow, Ricky be damned. It was time to move on. A clanging and a thud sounded below, probably casualties of Ricky's handiwork.
Amanda entered her apartment and let the door slide close. She set down her bag, looked at all the half-filled boxes, and realized.
It was the wrong choice after all.
"Mees Jacka-son!" Ricky bellowed through her door suddenly.
Something in her snapped. "What!" she screamed back. "What the fuck is it, you stupid, moronic, imbecilic fucker?" She was beginning to cry, and this was not the time to deal with a socially inept, barely sentient repair man with a temper.
"Mees Jacka-son, open door!" A thud collided with the outside of her door.
"Get the fuck away, you son of a—" She opened the door to see Ricky holding a fistful of Aaron's hair. She knew it was Aaron's hair because it was still attached to his head. Aaron was bracing himself against the door jamb with one hand and holding his head with the other. Apparently this was Ricky's new style of knocking.
"Aaron!" she gasped.
"You want I turn him go?" Ricky shouted.
"What?" she said. "What? No! Go away, Ricky. Go away! You turn go. Now!"
Ricky paused. "Mees Jacka-son, you want…"
"Go away!" she yelled, pulling Aaron from his grasp and bringing him inside her apartment. She closed and locked the door and barricaded it with a packed box for good measure as Aaron collapsed onto the bed, muttering some very un-vedik-like things about Ricky's heritage.
"I am so, so, so sorry," Amanda said, running into the kitchen for ice, which she wrapped into the handkerchief he'd given her at commencement and gave to him to hold to his forehead, which was already sprouting a knot. "I am so sorry, Aaron, I don't know what's wrong with me, this is so terrible, it's like every time you come near me you get hurt and I don't want that to happen ever again, so please, listen, I don't want you to—"
"Amanda, shut up," he grumbled. "Don't worry about my head, I'll be fine."
"That's not what I'm apologizing for."
He looked up, realized what she meant. "Oh. I was going to call after you, but I was out of breath from running, and then Ricky got to me first…"
On second thought, she took the ice from him, which he eyed with some wariness. "What are you going to do with that?"
Amanda tossed it onto the floor and pushed Aaron back onto the bed and climbed on top of him like a cowgirl mounting up.
"Does this mean we get to make up?" he said.
"Are you kidding?" She began pulling the robe from his body and his shirt with it. "Shut up and fuck me. And don't you ever leave me again."
"You know how you told me once that Bajoran men have to treat their women right?" she said softly. It was about an hour later, and Aaron was lying beside her, content as a cat in the sunshine. "Or else we can take our revenge after you've come?"
One eye cracked warily.
"If you walk out that door today like this was nothing more than a fly-by, I'll nail your hide to the top of Coit Tower," she threatened.
The eye closed again. "Never."
"Never what? Come on, speak up."
"You were never a fly-by. Never could be." He turned onto his side to face her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Thermonuclear explosion, maybe. But nothing less."
"Thanks. Thanks a lot."
"Meant that in a good way."
"Yeah."
"Amanda?"
"Yes?"
"I have never stopped loving you. Now let's get back to this after I have some semblance of a voluntary muscular system."
"How's your head?"
"I'm probably concussed. Make sure you wake me once every few hours and make love to me or else I might slip into a coma."
"I didn't know sex was part of the treatment for a concussion."
"Bajorans require tender care."
"I see." She hesitated. "Aaron?"
"Hmmm."
"We need to talk."
He opened one eye again.
"I really just said that, didn't I?" she said.
"Give it five minutes, Beautiful. Five… minutes…"
Well, that was all well and good for him, except Amanda was feeling like she'd been tossed into the anti-grav simulator back on Voyager. She had no footing.
She wanted Aaron here, beside her. She had realized on her walk up the hill alone that she wanted him here the rest of her life. To hell with whether it was healthy or not, or right or not—that's what she wanted.
Only what happened the next time there was a force field between them? Amanda had no intention of getting locked up in anybody's psych ward ever again, but she figured there was really no way that someone like her would ever live an entirely peaceful life. And, she may have recognized that she needed to change some things about how she looked at her life and the universe and herself, but that didn't change the thing about her that had scared him away. Seven years of isolation in a weapons chamber and a few years of active combat before that and the utter destruction of her home planet and all the loneliness of her life so far added up to something that had scared him off before.
And what Amanda had learned in the months since was that it wasn't necessarily something she wanted to get rid of.
She'd visited the edge of something so many times that she wasn't afraid to go there. What B'Elanna, Tom, Chakotay, Chell, and even those stupid doctors at the psych ward had wanted to point out to her was that she also needed to respect the edge so that she wouldn't carelessly walk over it into oblivion. But the people who knew her best—like it or not, her Voyager crewmates—knew that this quality also gave her a rare strength, one that most people wouldn't understand, much less share.
She needed Aaron to understand, though.
"So did I ever tell you how my father died?"
Aaron was awake. She felt him take that deep, reviving breath, the one that meant he was finally alert again. Not sure what to say, she just turned and looked at him.
"It was my fault," he told her. He told her the story then, as much as he could remember it, leaving nothing out. Amanda didn't ask any questions—she was too shocked. She only listened.
When he was done, she wrapped her arms around him. "It wasn't your fault," she whispered.
"Yeah, it was," he said simply. "My whole life, everyone has tried to tell me it wasn't, but any way you cut it, if I hadn't been playing with the horse Mitch gave me out in the open, if Mari and I had told our parents what the Cardassian said, if we had called out to them as we ran out of the house… He'd still be alive."
Amanda couldn't answer. He was right.
"It's not that I feel guilty," Aaron said. "I didn't mean to, I was a child, and I've made peace with that.
"But you can't deny that it happened because of me."
"Why are you telling me this now?"
He raised a hand to her hair and began running his fingers through it. "My whole life, I wondered if I would have had the courage to run back into the house, if it were me in my father's place. It's a little late now to question it, but I even wonder if that's why I became a vedik—so I could find out or maybe even prove to myself that I would have gone back.
"That day… at Starfleet… I left you because I was scared for you," he said. "But I also left because when you stared me down… I saw my father looking back at me.
"After I left," Aaron continued, "I did a lot of thinking. Well, first I got drunk, but then I started thinking. I finally get why you could do all the things you've done to save your ship or your friends, and why you put your hand on the force field. And I know why my father went back into the house. He loved us, sure, but more than that, it was because he believed that something in his life so terrible had happened that it was all right to give himself up for us."
She remembered her brother Nathan's snap decision to save her. She couldn't be like that. Could she? It was totally different. "But I didn't… I mean—"
"Let me finish, okay? I think I finally get it. What you've done in your life, it's not a choice. My dad didn't choose to die, and he didn't choose to save us. He went because he had to. You're a little more complicated, Amanda, but it's not so different. I guess you were trying to show that to me.
"My mother's furious that I'm going to Cardassia, and Mari wouldn't talk to me for a week after I told her… but it's just a force field. It won't really hurt.
"Are you okay?" he asked her gently. She could feel the tears rolling off her own face and onto his shoulder.
"I love you," Amanda whispered. "Don't leave me again."
In the morning, Amanda came to and was a little surprised to feel Aaron beside her. Unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone after their months apart, she'd woken up several times during the night, disoriented by his presence. But this was different. Now he really was here.
She didn't think Aaron had budged once since the last time they'd made love. She prodded him gently in the side, just to check. The only response she got was the flutter of one side of his mouth, almost but not quite a smile. That was good enough.
After a few lazy minutes of counting cracks in the ceiling plaster, she roused herself enough to go to the kitchen. Happily, she recalled the actual food she had in the stasis bin, some things she'd picked up at the farmer's market near Civic Center last week. It had been an indulgent whim on her way back from seeing B'Elanna in Cuba—a reward to herself for going, and a celebration of a new opportunity. Since then, Amanda hadn't done much more than make a salad, but this would be a perfect chance to try her new egg-frying skills. And, she'd bought some fruit, too! Oranges, mangoes. A perfect reunion breakfast.
She busied herself with the eggs, carefully digging out the bits of shell that had made their way into the pan. She nudged aside the cooked whites so the raw part could seep through to the surface of the skillet, just like Aaron had showed her before. The finished eggs wound up in an unceremonious pile on the plate, but a little straightening out and they looked kind of good.
Amanda cheated and replicated some juice, but she made real tea, too, and she sliced the oranges and mangoes and laid them out on a plate around the eggs and a hunk of stale French bread. The eggs were a little cold by the time she'd finished, but hell, this was pretty damned good for a beginner.
She came back into the main room of the studio, food in hand, and saw Aaron lazily poking at a padd that had been lying on the floor. Sure enough, there was a faint but growing bruise in the middle of his forehead from Ricky's maneuver the day before. "Hey," she said.
"You're reading Gerina Tolla?" he asked her.
"Oh. Well, yes. The library had it available for download. I was just curious," she said.
"Curious enough to get to page 237 of a two-volume work?"
"I'm a quick reader," she evaded. "If you have enough coordination to eat without losing an eye, then breakfast is served."
"I'll find a way." He smiled beautifully, the perfect picture of a man content. "Should I be helping?"
"Let's say you're too tired, and I'll take it as a compliment to my lovemaking skills," she said, dumping some transparencies and crystals that B'Elanna had sent her the other week on the nearby shelves so there would be room for the feast.
Aaron gazed at her from across the room. "Making love to you is one of the greatest pleasures of my life."
She blushed. "Oh, come on. What about religious fervor?"
"I'm not joking." He smiled, the dimple in his cheek standing out in the morning light. "I love being a man. I love what I get to do with you."
Amanda crossed to the bed and sat next to him, resting a hand on his ass. "I'm glad it's enough to bring you back."
"Hell, no," he said vehemently. "I came over here because I love you."
"That's good," Amanda said.She planted a light kiss on the bump on his head and turned to go back to the kitchen, but Aaron caught one of her wrists and held her there. "Hey," she protested.
Ignoring her, he licked one of her hands. "Mango?" he guessed.
"Yes. There's more of that in the actual fruit, if you'll let me—"
He pulled her off balance so that she fell onto him. "I love the taste of mango and woman."
"Aaron, the food will get cold!"
"Warm it up later," he said, rolling them both onto their side.
It was an awkward affair for her, trying to keep her sticky hands from getting all over the sheets. "Typical man," she said. "I just cooked a whole meal, you know."
"And I'm starving." He kissed her and tried moving on top of her.
She felt his erection against her. "Whoa! Again!"
"Is that okay?"
"I should ask you! Can you do this?"
"You have to ask?"
"What are you, Mister Endurance now?"
"I haven't had sex in months. It's been building up."
"I'll say."
He moved his hips against hers. "You forced me to see how strong you are at the force field. Let me show you what I can do."
"Are you trying to ravish me?"
"Do you want me to stop?" He began kissing her neck and shoulders.
"No," she admitted, then shrieked as he licked the skin below her ear. Aaron rolled on top of her and was undoing her robe.
"Wow," she said. "Aaron. Mango. Hands. This could get messy."
"I don't care," he said. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them above her head to keep them out of the way. He moved his knee between her legs to spread them.
She shivered. "I have this martial arts move where I could throw you across the room. If I wanted," she told him.
"No, you couldn't," he said. "Not a chance."
Aaron slid inside her with only a few thrusts. She gasped, sore but ready enough. He moaned, a grating at the lowest part of his voice, a feeling like he was digging into the deepest well of the earth but it wasn't quite far enough. It was a completely undignified sound, and she loved it.
She made him do it again.
Some time later, with a kiss to her drowsy man, she went to the kitchen, warmed up the food again, and brought it back to the table. By the time the meal was set, Aaron had roused himself enough to come to the table and was pouring the tea.
"Blessings," he said with a toast and pulled out her chair for her, maneuvering it around the stacks of boxes.
Amanda took a sip and relished the sensation of the warm tea filling her belly. "I've decided something after reading that Gerina Tolla stuff," she said offhandedly.
"Hmm?" Aaron had his mouth full with eggs already.
"I think he's wrong."
A single dark eyebrow raised. "Really?"
"It's all just fine," she said, "forgiveness, compassion, renewal, blah, blah, blah."
Aaron blinked. "Those are kind of important," he said. "At least to me."
"Sure. But the idea that you only have so much space for your soul? That's bullshit."
He laughed, nearly choking. "Please continue debunking one of the major modern theologians of my world," he said.
"Sure," Amanda said. "For one thing, who the hell is he to say that anger and compassion can't exist in the same person? And," she added, looking down at her plate, "clearly he never fell in love with the right person."
He regarded her seriously. "How's that?"
"Because when I think of you, there is no finite space for my spirit," she told him, blushing. "There's only forever."
Aaron reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Forever," he agreed. "That's fine with me."