U.S.S. Longbourn: Stardate 2275.308
Lizzie hadn't slept very well.
The letter had remained on the edge of her consciousness, even as she kept trying to drift off to sleep. She wanted to deny everything- to scream, to call Darcy a liar. But for all of his faults, he never really lied (the obvious exception being with the Collins, but she was going to let that one slide). Now her clock was telling her it was close to 8am, and she still couldn't force herself to either fall asleep or shake herself fully awake.
The contents of the letter ran through her head on repeat, each point dissected and exhumed.
Somebody not believing Jane was head over heels for Charles? That sounded like bullshit to her. What idiot couldn't see Jane's besotted face every time that gangly man walked into the room? Darcy even knew Charles reciprocated, and he still felt the need to interfere? Who does that?
A sudden burst of embarrassment- or maybe it was guilt- settled in her stomach seconds before the accompanying memory popped up. During their time at the academy, Charlotte had been seeing a guy who was completely and absolutely obsessed with an old Terran animated movie and, when pressed for her opinion, Lizzie had vehemently suggested that Charlotte dump him.
But surely those were different situations...right?
As for the second half of the letter, Lizzie seriously doubted that Darcy would make up such a horrible story- it just wasn't in the Vulcan's nature. Still though, she could hope that he was, because then she'd feel less like a total and complete asshole.
Nearly slapping her forehead at the thought, she realized she could always search the Federation's database for the truth. Finally coming to something of a productive decision, Lizzie threw her covers off and stomped hurriedly to her desk, still slightly irritated at herself for being so oblivious.
"Computer, search San Francisco Police database for George Wickham."
134 search results appeared, and Lizzie mentally estimated Wickham's age and the date of the offense from the information Darcy disclosed. She found the correct file, and upon opening it, squawked in outrage at what she saw. On the left hand side of the page was Wickham's mugshot, and the douchebag was actually smirking at the camera. To the right there was a list of his offenses as well as the corresponding sentences, confirming that Darcy was indeed correct. She delved a little deeper into the file, and was surprised to find that she had access to his psychological profile as well. Skimming his evaluation, she could see that he was denied early release during his first sentence based on the recommendation of the prison's psychiatrist, who stated that he seemed to lack victim empathy and that he had tried manipulating her on several occasions.
The man was then convicted of statutory rape again, less than a year after being released; the second time with a 16 year old. It looks like his second sentence ended early last year, but he was still on probation. For a second, Lizzie was a little confused at his interest in her; maybe he had finally learned to stop grooming and seducing teenagers? Then she remembered his words to her in the bar: you barely look old enough to be a cadet.
Shuddering with revolt, Lizzie had a hard time not instinctively glancing in a mirror. She knew she looked younger than she was, but not so young that she was attracting pedophiles. He had to have known she was at least 21- for shit's sake, they were in a bar.
Lizzie gave up trying to discern Wickham's actions- or motives- and instead focused on her own.
Slowly banging her head against her desk, she finally admitted to herself that she really fucked up. Technically, thought a small part in the back of her brain that still craved some dignity, Darcy could be lying about Wickham targeting her sister. Just because the dude was a pedophile, and there was the evidence to prove it, didn't necessarily mean- oh now she was just deluding herself. This wasn't really the type of thing any sort of sane, ethical person would lie about, and she had seen the look they had exchanged at the bar. In hindsight, Wickham had very briefly looked terrified, and Darcy looked about 2 seconds away from ripping his head off.
Waves of shame rolled over her at the realization that Darcy was telling the truth. She had accused him of discrimination against the man who had tried sleeping with his young sister! Honestly, how does one begin to recover from that type of mistake? She should apologize, she know she should.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the chime indicating somebody was at her door.
Lizzie winced as she recalled she was supposed to spend the morning in the gym with Charlotte. "Come in," she yelled out, hurriedly reaching for the black tank top and teal sweatpants she had placed on her couch the previous night. Her best friend walked in confidently before stopping short.
"Did you forget about our plans?" Charlotte asked, eying her friend's rumpled state.
"No, no. I'm just running a little late," Lizzie lied distractedly before quickly changing out of her pajamas.
Charlotte hummed in response before walking over to sit at her desk. She was in the process of haphazardly throwing her feet on the desk when something on the computer caught her eye, and Lizzie froze as she remembered she hadn't closed the page detailing Wickham's criminal charges.
The engineer snorted loudly at Wickham's mugshot. "This guy looks like the type who screams his own name during sex," she quipped before glancing over the rest of the information. "Oh, no," she chuckled awkwardly while pointing weakly at the screen, "really wish I had read what he was jailed for before making that joke."
"You ready to go?" the captain asked hopefully, walking to the door before her friend could respond. To her dismay Charlotte ignored her to squint at the screen.
"He looks familiar... holy hell, was this the dude from the bar?" Charlotte questioned incredulously, eyes widening in shock. Thankfully, before Lizzie could decide on how to respond, Charlotte drew conclusions on her own. "Did you manage to look him up just with his name and phone number? Crafty. And lucky, because could you imagine hooking up with somebody and then discovering they're-" she seemed unable to form words, and instead pointed at the mugshot of Wickham's smug face.
"A convicted pedophile? Yep, really dodged a bullet. Anyways, gym?" Lizzie responded in quick succession, wanting the subject to end before she accidentally revealed why she was really researching Wickham. In his letter, Darcy had insisted on Georgiana and Wickham's former relationship remaining a secret, and although she trusted Charlotte to be discreet, she also felt like it wasn't her story to tell. She knew if they continued talking about it though, that she would absolutely let something slip. And once Charlotte caught a whiff of gossip that woman was like a dog with a bone.
"Yeah," Charlotte agreed, eying Lizzie curiously as she got up and followed her friend out of the captain's quarters. As they walked through the sleek halls of the starship, Lizzie brought up something that had been briefly bugging her.
"Hey, do you remember that cadet you dated when we were at the academy?" she began before Charlotte could continue to discuss Wickham. "The one who was absolutely obsessed with that really old movie. What was it- 'Iced'? 'Sleet?'"
"It was 'Frozen' and for the millionth time Elizabeth, would you let it go?!" she whispered furiously, trying to avoid the attention of an ensign walking in the opposite direction.
The captain pushed her gently as she assuaged her friend's anger. "No, no I'm not going to make fun of him... again, I just want to know if you broke up because of my advice."
Rolling her eyes at the question, Charlotte snorted quietly. "Pft no. First of all, we broke up like two months after we had that conversation, and there were a couple of red flags- oh my god, I don't think I ever told you about the roleplaying thing!"
Lizzie nodded in absentminded agreement at her friend as they waited for the turbolift, then did a double take as her words sunk in. "Roleplaying?"
"I'm going to tell you, but only because it's been years and I'm more immune to that judgmental face you make now," Charlotte sang the last words lightly as they stepped through the open doors.
"I do not have a judg-"
"Deck 7," Charlotte stated loudly to the interior of the elevator before continuing. "Sure you don't, hon. Anyways, so one day Derek brings up the fact that he wants to do a little roleplaying. Being the absolute champ that I am, I agree. We schedule the night, I go out and buy the ice princess outfit, and then head over to his dorm. And I get there..."
Lizzie almost dislocated a shoulder with her impatient, enthusiastic get-on-with-it hand gestures. "And?!"
"And he's already dressed as Elsa," Charlotte finishes casually as they step out, without the gusto that should accompany that sort of statement.
"Okkayy, being the same character sounds like some boring roleplay, but what-"
"No, he didn't want us to be the same character. He wanted me to dress up as a..." Charlotte's last word was mumbled so much that Lizzie leaned in instinctually.
"Dress up as a what?"
"A troll, okay! He handmade a costume, with some weird carpet, and- I don't know- some type of necklace made out of long grass, and I think there might have been some crystals involved."
The laughter Lizzie had been trying to contain finally escaped as a snort, and Charlotte pulled her off to the side of the hallway. There were some officers straggling around the entrance to the gym, and, while she wasn't ashamed, Charlotte certainly didn't feel like having this story spread around.
"Ohh, so that's why you broke up with him." Lizzie tapped her chin thoughtfully, but was distracted when Charlotte started avoiding eye contact.
"Well..."
"You stayed together after he made you roleplay as a troll?!" The captain's shrill voice turned several heads walking past, and her friend hushed her.
"First of all, there's your judgmental face right there," Charlotte accused, while pointing at her friend's furrowed brow.
Despite the attempt to relax her face muscles, Lizzie's expression stayed dismayed. "And secondly," her friend continued, "it was odd, but he was so appreciative that it actually ended up some of the best sex we had. That man was insanely grateful. I mean, at one point-"
"Ah ta ta," Dramatically placing her hands over her ears, Lizzie tutting interrupted Charlotte's train of thought. "I don't really need to hear about that. Wait, so if you didn't break up because of that..."
Charlotte's expression grew exasperated at the memories. "We had a few fights before, about a couple of different things, but the tipping point was when he said he didn't want me hanging out with male friends without 'supervision' from him. Yeah, I dumped his ass real quick after that."
"'Supervision?!' What year is it?" Lizzie asked rhetorically. A brief second of relief at the realization that their break up hadn't been her fault was overshadowed by another concerning thought. "Why didn't you tell me this shit years ago when it was happening?"
"Well," Charlotte ventured tentatively, "you're really quick to jump to-"
"Conclusions? I hardly think that-"
Sighing in irritation, Charlotte clasped her hands in front of her as if she was praying for patience. "Look, Elizabeth, I love you. You're one of my best friends, and favorite people, but believe me when I say you are the most stubborn person I know. You make snap judgements about people, and then you stick to them come hell or high water."
"I..." No words were coming to her, and Charlotte laid her hand on her friend's upper arm soothingly.
"Let's not get into it now, okay? We can talk about it later," Charlotte murmured while gently nudging the captain toward the gym doors. "I'm pretty sure James and Darcy are waiting, and I don't want to be late."
Lizzie's stomach dropped at the name, but she hid her flinch well. "Why are Fitzwilliam and Darcy waiting? I thought you were going to show me some basic fencing moves?"
"That's still the plan, but I was talking to James yesterday and he mentioned that him and the commander would be practicing with some lirpas, and I want to see some Vulcan weapons! I was thinking we could watch them for a while and then practice some fencing. You don't mind, right?" Charlotte asked, just as the door slid open to reveal the objects of their discussion.
The captain had to force down the urge to turn tail and flee. Certain the smile she was trying to fake her way through looked more like a grimace, Lizzie nodded belatedly at her friend's question. "Yeah, sounds good."
Author's Note: Ahhh I know, it's a short chapter. I just really wanted to post something before leaving for my vacation in the Caribbean. I'm going to try to post more often, I promise! As always, reviews are welcome.