Vulcan: Stardate 2258:158 (17 years ago)

A fourteen-year-old William Darcy sat on the couch in his family's common area, flipping through the PADD in his hand while George Wickham slouched next to him.

"I'm so fucking bored! Why is there never anything fun to do on this god forsaken planet?" the teenager groaned loudly.

This was a frequent complaint of George's. Despite the local learning center offering a curriculum specific for a human's education requirement, Mrs. Wickham had been insistent on home schooling for her son. She, of course, was in no way trained or had the natural inclination for teaching (and had barely graduated high school herself), but she didn't let these insignificant facts stop her.

What she did let stop her was her frequent shopping sprees and spa appointments.

The majority of the time George was left to his own devices. Even though there were literally thousands of games and books at his fingertips, George's favorite pastime was riling up the uptight family friend. This wreaked havoc on both Darcy's sanity, and to a lesser extent, his grades.

Darcy ignored the antsy teenager sitting next to him in favor of his study material. The lack of a reply did not deter George from grumbling again, and poking the student in the side.

"Come on, why don't we take out the desert flyer?"

"I do not have time; I have multiple exams tomorrow I need to prepare for," Darcy replied curtly. He neglected to mention the fact that George always insisted on driving, and with his reckless personality and utter disregard for following proper vehicular laws he was bound to get into an accident one of these days.

Darcy would rather not be in the hovercar when that happened.

"Christ, Billy, you have got to be the lamest thing on this planet."

"Do not refer to me as 'Billy,'" Darcy commanded absentmindedly, ignoring the insult completely. After all, George almost never seemed happy. Whether it was the food, the people, the environment- George usually found a problem.

At that moment Georgiana shyly wandered into the room, her robes softly trailing behind her, and sat on the arm of the couch next to her brother. George leaned over Darcy to ruffle her hair. "And what have you been up to, little bit?" he asked the small girl, who giggled before holding up a loose tooth in her hand.

"I just lost my first tooth!" she announced proudly before turning to her older brother and gently patting his shoulder. "Will, did you see it?"

Darcy dropped his PADD in his lap before gently taking her tooth to study it in his palm. "Fascinating. And it did not hurt?"

"No, silly," his sister laughed quietly. "I barely felt a thing! But didn't you lose your baby teeth too?"

"Vulcans do not have deciduous teeth like humans. I still possess the same teeth that I was born with, although clearly they have grown in size. Also, Vulcans have two additional-"

George interrupted Darcy to hand a piece of candy to Georgiana. "Congrats, sweetie."

Darcy almost started another lecture on the effect of processed sugar on human teeth, but stopped short when his mom walked into the room and squealed at the tooth in his hand.

"Georgie, is that what I think it is? Oh, give me that; I'll put it with your other baby things," his mother hugged her daughter before inspecting the tooth in her son's hand.

"You wish to keep it?" Will's tone was as even as ever, but Mrs. Darcy could sense the question behind it.

"Well, Will, humans often keep mementos of their children's milestones to remember the event."

"Illogical."

"Keep in mind that humans do not often possess eidetic memories, so such keepsakes will trigger certain recollections," she explained carefully. Living with two Vulcans and a human raised in Vulcan society, Ann was accustomed to clarifying aspects of human behavior.

Her son nodded slowly. "I understand... Curious."

"So what are you two boys doing for the rest of the day?" she asked as she smoothed Georgiana's golden hair back down.

George thought this would be a great time to coerce Will into going out with him. "Actually, Mrs. Darcy, Will and I were about to take my parents' desert flyer out. You know, practice driving a little bit."

Will opened his mouth to refute the idea but was stopped when his mother nodded her head. "Of course! Will's been in the house all day- he could use a little of the outdoors. Maybe Georgiana would like to ride along too?"

"No!" Darcy shouted quickly, startling the other three occupants in the room. His little sister, who had leaned forward at the idea of hanging out with the teenagers, recoiled a little at the volume of his voice.

Darcy was too panicked at the thought of George crashing the flyer with Georgiana in the backseat to comfort her. She was so human, so vulnerable. "Georgiana had some questions earlier about her xenobiology class. Mother, maybe you could assist her while George and I are out."

"Sure thing. Georgiana, why don't you help me with something in the garage and we can talk about your schoolwork," his mother said as she picked up his sister. "Good grief, girly, soon you'll be too big for me to do this. You boys have fun."

Thirty minutes later and Darcy sat in exasperation as George ran through yet another stop sign. "George, please halt at the proper areas."

"Get that stick out of your ass, man, there's nobody around!"

Indeed, they had only seen 4 pedestrians since they left the Wickhams as they were currently in the residential part of the city and not the commercial district. Darcy had tried encouraging Wickham to drive toward the desert where there were less restrictive regulations and less people, but Wickham had claimed he was trying to "pick up babes" and that Darcy could "shut up" unless he was trying to help.

Darcy turned to face the window and studied the city outside. T'Paal was surrounded by desert- red dirt as far as the eye could see. Certain succulents sprouted up sporadically, but were sparse due to the lack of regular precipitation. Given the fact that Vulcans were a telepathic and private species, residencies were spaced out rather far apart. Unpaved roads created a simplistic grid plan, and houses were often small and utilitarian.

At that moment they passed a group of 3 girls tending to a small herb garden in front of one such residence. George slowed down to yell out the window. "Hey ladies, how's it going?"

They briefly looked up before returning to their work. "George," Darcy warned the driver, "Vulcans tend to be betrothed from a young age. Please desist in harassing what are likely to be unavailable females."

"You're not betrothed, right? How would you know?"

A muscle ticked in Darcy's jaw at the reminder that his parents were unable to find a Vulcan his age who wanted a betrothal bond with the "half-breed." "Even if they are not yet bonded, I do not believe they would appreciate you shout-"

"You know what, Billy?" George huffed as he brought the car to a stop. "I think you're cramping my style. It's time for you to go home."

Darcy felt relief for the first time since they left. "Yes, I think it is for the best if you drive me back to my house."

"No, you don't understand," Wickham sighed as he put the flyer in park. "I'm not going back just yet. You are."

"We are currently 8.5 kilometers from my residence. Surely you do not expect me to-"

"You'll be fine," Wickham shooed him out the hovercar.

Darcy briefly imagined knocking Wickham unconscious and commandeering the desert flyer. While the thought was appealing, he would fully expect some sort of legal and personal ramifications, given George's propensity for spitefulness and lying.

Darcy simply exited and began the long trek home.

U.S.S. Longbourn: Stardate 2275.307

Self-isolated in a corner across from the bar, Lizzie sat in the ship's Ten Forward, nursing her drink. Though the room was fairly packed, she had snagged an empty table by the viewing window. She glanced at the stars and sighed again. Usually the view of space brought a sense of peace and perspective, but tonight it did nothing for her. Despite the fact that she felt like drowning in alcohol to even temporarily forget her problem, she couldn't ignore the fact that she was surrounded by people who she needed to keep a clear head around. She supposed she could bring something back to her quarters, but that scenario struck her as particularly depressing.

It had been a day and a half since Darcy had professed his... attachment, and the confession had caused an awkward situation. The entire bridge could easily see the tension between their captain and first officer during the Alpha shift, even though they both seemed to be trying their damndest to hide it. She was entirely grateful that nobody had the stones to confront her about it, since she had absolutely no idea what she would say.

The irony struck her just then and a hoarse chuckle burst from her. This weird, difficult shitstorm was exactly what she was trying to avoid when she decided she shouldn't date anybody on her crew and yet it still fucking happened. She didn't regret her decision to deny his transfer request; they worked great together damn it, and she didn't think that was solely due to his surprising attraction to her. A subdued, possessive feeling settled at the back of her chest. Would another captain mesh so well with him? Would appreciate how much effort he spent working his ass off?

Damn it all, they probably would. According to his recommendations, clearly he had impressed the other high ranking officers on other ships he served on. Maybe she should approve his request? Even if her gut was telling her that was a mistake?

Eh. Lizzie shrugged her shoulders as she thought through her decision. He'll probably get over his crush quickly. There were certainly enough reasons, at least according to him, why they were a bad fit. Darcy just briefly gave into some of his human side. Surely his Vulcan sensibilities would return soon, and they could put this whole mess behind them.

Suddenly more optimistic about the whole thing, Lizzie left her drink at the table and started walking back toward her quarters. She nodded to a couple of people in the corridors, but didn't stop to speak to them like she normally would.

The familiarity of her quarters soothed her a little as she walked in, and she decided she had just enough energy to see if any urgent missives had come in while she was in the Ten Forward.

While there wasn't anything marked urgent, her eye was still caught by a notification saying that Commander Darcy had sent a personal correspondence. She briefly considered ignoring it for the time being, as it clearly wasn't an emergency, but curiosity forced her to open it.

Captain Bennet,

Do not be alarmed at receiving this missive. I do not intend to reiterate the sentiments that offended you so. The purpose of this letter is not to cause you discomfort, or to apologize for my previous profession. However, I do feel the need to address the two charges laid against me during our discussion.

I will not claim that I was not involved in Bingley's decision to separate himself from your sister for the time-being. Charles' amiable personality often endears him to many people, and in the academy he was never short of friends or admirers. His easygoing and friendly demeanor is a major contributor to our enduring friendship. Although I have great confidence in his reliability and steadfastness as a platonic companion, romantically he has the tendency to be fickle. At the academy he fell in and out of love with great frequency, and never seemed to focus on one partner long enough to form a solid connection. Last year, during our assignment aboard the U.S.S. Lambton, he had a brief affair with the chief medical officer. Lambton was a fairly small vessel, and things quickly became tense and awkward after the dalliance dissolved.

Charles became infatuated with Jane quicker than he usually does. He would frequently seek her out during their free time. I observed their behavior whenever I was in the vicinity. His manner with her was always open and engaging. It was clear, even to one not well versed in human behavior such as myself, that he was interested in her romantically. And the counselor, while always polite and friendly, did not seem to return his affection. On Starbase 434, I decided to introduce Bingley to a potential partner, in order to distract him from his infatuation with a fellow officer, but they did not seem to connect. Furthermore, I could detect no trace of jealousy in Ms. Bennet. After this event I decided to confide my observations to Charles and suggested that he spend some time apart from the counselor to prevent any problematic situations. You may disagree with my decision, but my suggestion was based on my intimate knowledge of my friend, as well as his history with romantic entanglements. I apologize if your sister was hurt, but at this time I cannot regret my actions as they may have very well prevented her more pain in the future.

The second accusation discussed yesterday, and the more serious charge, was that I prevented Wickham from entering the Starfleet academy.

While you and I have shared many anecdotes regarding our respective childhoods, I have steered clear of mentioning George due to our tumultuous history. As you know, I was raised on Vulcan. While Vulcans may preach their admiration for diversity, their actual behavior regarding beings that they find to be different is anything but accepting. As a child I was often ostracized by my fellow classmates, and although for the most part I did not crave their company, I could tell the lack of social interaction bothered my mother. When the Wickhams moved to Vulcan my mother was pleased. She felt as if a human boy would be better company for myself than my more aloof Vulcan peers.

I wish she had been correct.

Mr. Wickham was an honorable and hardworking man. Both my mother and father thought he was a good addition to our society, and that his son would prove to be a positive influence. Unfortunately, George modeled his morals after his mother. He was selfish and arrogant, but excelled at hiding his true nature. Outwardly he was the very image of a confident and amiable teenager. My mother doted on him, and would often lament that we were not closer. Revealing the truth would not accomplish anything, so tried my hardest to avoid Wickham and focused on my studies.

My mother passed away of an unexpected aortic aneurysm when I was 15. The only source of unconditional love and affection I had ever had was lost with her. My father really tried, but he was ultimately uncapable of filling the void her absence had left. Georgiana was 7 at the time, and in hindsight I did not offer her as much familial love as I should have. A couple months after this the Wickhams moved off Vulcan, and I did not give them a second thought for years.

My father passed away 3 years after my mother, and with my last connection to Vulcan severed I entered Starfleet academy. I also confess that I believed Georgiana would thrive more in a more diverse environment. I did not realize it at the time, but George had moved close to San Francisco several years after we did and proceeded to contact Georgiana, who only remembered George as a kind and outgoing boy. Georgiana, perhaps sensing how I would disapprove, never mentioned their correspondence.

I would appreciate your utmost discretion with this next bit of history. It really is not my secret to tell, but I do so in the hopes that you will further understand my contentious relationship with Wickham. If you must disclose any of the following information, please do so with Counselor Bennet only.

At this time I had just been granted a teaching position at Starfleet academy, and lived off-campus while my sister completed her schooling. My courses took up the majority of my time, and while I provided the necessary shelter and nutrients necessary for her well-being I suppose I neglected her emotional requirements.

George took full advantage of this. I later learned that he initiated a relationship with my sister, and would constantly give her gifts and trinkets. He gave her the attention that was lacking by her only remaining member of her nuclear family. I came home early one day and, to my utmost shock, found my sister and George preparing to engage in sexual intercourse.

He was 23. She was 13.

In one of the few times I have completely lost emotional control in my life, I flew into a blind rage. Due to my eidetic memory it is impossible to forget the feeling of his nose breaking beneath my fist, or the red hue his face turned as I impeded his ability to breathe. I honestly believe that if I had not heard Georgiana crying I would have killed him. He fled from our home, and the only reason I did not pursue him was to confirm Georgiana was not hurt. Arguing that my career would suffer as the result of the inevitable assault charges, she begged me not to contact the police. At that moment, I could not have possibly cared less about my profession. She then claimed that she and George had yet to be physically involved, and that she did not feel that she could handle the intrusion into her private life by people she did not know or trust. Due to Earth's statistics regarding sexual assault conviction, as well as the Vulcan's emphasis on privacy, I capitulated to her wishes. I encouraged her to save their online correspondence, as well as the "presents" he had bestowed upon her as evidence in case she changed her mind and decided to go to the authorities.

For the next several months I felt intense guilt. I asked my sister three more times for permission to report him, and she declined each time. You might wonder at my guilt, seeing as how most beings would not consider it appropriate for a Vulcan to admit to such a thing. Vulcans do not fret over things they cannot change.

Kaiidth.*

However, by ignoring the issue, there was a possibility that Wickham might be able to prey on another vulnerable, underage girl. Eight months after the incident I succumbed and reached out to a colleague that had formerly worked with the San Francisco police department for advice. She still knew quite a few people at SFPD and, after a short phone call, was able to inform me that George Wickham had been convicted of statutory rape of a 16 year old, and was currently serving a sentence of 2.3 years in prison. Wickham had been in a "relationship" with this teenager for more than a year before her parents discovered it and pressed charges. While I empathized with this family, I also felt a sense of relief that Georgiana did not have to undergo the process of testifying to the police.

I am not aware what lies Wickham has told you, but I can assure you that if George ever did apply to Starfleet, my low opinion of him was not the cause of his rejection. Even if his criminal background were not a hindrance, his narcissistic tendencies and complete lack of ambition most certainly would be.

I relate our history to you, not to cause you pain, but to warn you of his character. Of course, if you doubt any of the facts relayed you always have the option of searching through Starfleet's database. George has always been a competent liar and manipulator; therefore, I do not- and possibly can not- judge you for falling for his act as so many have done.

I sincerely hope yesterday's events will not impact our professional relationship. I will endeavor to remain impartial and in control. Rest assured, you will not have to hear a repeat of my outburst.

-Commander William Darcy

Lizzie finished the letter in shock before laying her head down on her forearms and groaning. "Fuck."

*Kaiidth- Vulcan phrase meaning "What is, is"