7
Pamela crept out of An's quarters before anyone could see, and before she'd have to deal with him. It had been kind enough of him to offer her a place to sleep but she had bigger fish to fry. Coffee would be on the agenda that morning. But not until after a shower.
At least the coast was clear at her own quarters. Blair and Will were ... somewhere. Good.
Her PADD was flashing. She picked up a message from Hoshi: "This is from the same anonymous source," Hmm.
The message was just one word:
Tonight.
Nothing more.
Okay, she thought to herself. Tonight it is.
=/\=
The Ti'Mur had sent a shuttle.
Dr. Keating-Fong was ready. She smiled and shook hands with Dr. Phlox, who was seeing her off, "Oh, I almost forgot! I have a present for you!"
"A gift, for me?" he asked, "Why, that's hardly necessary."
"It's small," she said, "A token of teaching."
He unwrapped the small package, "This is a box of chalk."
"Yes. Teachers on Earth used to write on blackboards and students would read and often copy down what they had written. Teachers always had chalk on them. You're a teacher, so you should have chalk."
"Thank you," he smiled, "I wish I had more chances to instruct. These next three weeks should be fun."
"Yes, there's nothing like it," she said, "Being listened to! People hanging on your every word! I do admit it's a bit of an ego trip. But it's also rather rewarding. If you come to Nereid, can I persuade you to give a guest lecture or two on Xenobiology?"
"Why, that would be a delight," he said, "Safe journeys."
She departed.
=/\=
It was the evening, right before the party was to start.
"What do you think?" Blair asked Pamela, holding up two outfits, "Brown or grey?"
"Um, grey," Pamela said, "With the drop earrings."
"Good idea. Will likes those."
"Ah, you are going to do everything because Will likes it, now?"
"Not necessarily," Blair said, "I do like to see him happy, though."
"Well, don't lose yourself in the process," Pamela picked a piece of lint off her skirt.
"How can you sit down in that thing?" Blair asked.
"Well, you usually don't. You just lean," Pamela said, "And you wear interesting underwear because if you cross your legs one way, heh, it becomes public knowledge."
"I see you got new fishnets."
"Yeah, the old pair had a hole in them you could drive a shuttle through."
"Are you ready to go?" Blair asked.
"Yes, but let's let 'em wonder for a while. Never arrive to a party early or on time. No one should."
"Uh, there's a philosophical flaw in that plan. How, exactly, do parties get started if everyone is late?"
"It's like the old Steady State theory of the universe," Pamela said, "No beginning and no end. Or maybe it's just turtles all the way down."
"Maybe. Do you know who your poet is?"
"Not telling you."
"Oh, then you don't know," Blair said.
"Not saying."
"No, wait. You have a good idea, just not 100% confirmed, right?"
"I'm still not telling you," Pamela said, even though Blair was right.
=/\=
"Cap'n, those neutron pulses are startin' to get annoying," Tripp reported via intercom.
Jonathan leaned forward in the captain's chair, "How so?"
"Well, we've got ..."
The sentence wasn't finished because the ship lurched. It took almost a minute to get their equilibrium back. Everyone shook their heads, as if they'd been momentarily knocked out.
"What the devil was that?" Jonathan demanded of the Bridge crew.
"It appears we were scanned," T'Pol replied.
"Check all systems. This is not just a comet trail. Hoshi, get me Starfleet."
"Aye, sir," Hoshi tapped on her console, "Go ahead."
"We've got activity here," Jonathan said to Admiral Gardner, "And this area isn't supposed to have any advanced civilizations. Any word on who might be out here?"
"Nothing," said the admiral, "Keep an eye on it, so long as you can, without endangering the crew or your passengers of course. But don't do anything big unless you have to. Best for you to stay out of a fire fight. We'll make inquiries. Klingon home world is not so far away – it might be them. Gardner out."
"We should cancel the festivities," T'Pol suggested.
"No," Jonathan said, "Not unless this happens again. The crew deserves a break."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I promise, if you call, I will come back," he said, smiling tightly. It had been a long week. Jonathan just didn't want this to overtake him and kill his mood. He felt a tiny bit funny, a little bit warm, perhaps, but it was nothing so he dismissed it.
"Sir," Malcolm said, "I can set up targeting on automatic. Have it track the source of the scanning."
"Well, the source is probably gone, or has moved," Travis pointed out.
"Understood," said Malcolm, "But I can pick it up and have it track the signal if it reappears. I can keep it quiet – it would not appear to be a hostile act."
"Tripp, work with Malcolm on that," Jonathan said.
"All right, be right there," Tripp said, "Tucker out."
=/\=
Chip was pushing chairs against the wall of the Observation Lounge when Aidan walked in.
"I got it," Aidan said.
"Oh," Chip said knowingly, "Punch is over there."
"Good. I don't see how anyone thinks there can be a party without a little liquid sustenance," He poured a fifth into the punch bowl.
"Think those gals will loosen up with the application of a little, uh, social lubricant?" Chip asked.
"I'm counting on it. I'm just dyin' to play doctor," Aidan replied.
=/\=
"Okay, looks like we're done," Tripp said, "This was a good idea."
"And it's all set to let you know if there's any more activity?" Jonathan asked.
"Yes, it'll ping my personal communicator," Malcolm said, demonstrating, "And then I'll come right back. No matter, uh, no matter what."
"Good. I guess you're going to the party tonight."
"I guess I am," he smiled slightly to himself. Whew.
=/\=
The party was in full swing when Blair and Pamela arrived.
"See, I told ya. No early arrival and you're guaranteed a good time or at least a better time," Pamela said, above the din of music and talking.
"Of course. When it comes to this sort of thing, I defer to you, my friend," Blair replied.
Will came over to her, "The punch is spiked," he said, by way of greeting, "Everyone's been keeping Phlox and the captain from having any. The dodges are getting interesting. Better have some before someone from the Temperance Union spoils the fun," He gave her a cup.
"My God, that's strong," she said, tasting it.
Pamela made a beeline for it. Chip was there, and poured her a glass, "Remember," he said, "If the captain or Phlox come over, give them this other stuff," he indicated a smaller bowl, off to the side.
"Aye, aye," she said, swigging, "Doesn't anyone dance?"
"Dance?" he asked, "We're all science types. Lucky we can dress ourselves when we're out of uniform."
She smiled, "C'mon, you remember the film! Someone should start."
"Y'know, you're right. But there's not a lotta women. Not counting you and Dr. Claymore, there are thirty-four women. And fifty-eight men, not including your classmates. Or, um, Phlox, T'Pol and Porthos," he replied, yelling above the noise.
"Who's Porthos?"
"He's the captain's beagle."
"We haven't met," she called out, "First dance could be ladies' choice," she suggested.
The song ended. Chip called out to the assembled throng, "I have received a request for some dancing!" People grumbled a bit, "But this one will be – because we have such a skewed ratio – it'll be a ladies' choice. Ladies! Get in the middle. Gentlemen! Into a circle around them."
"You think that's fair?" Tripp asked Travis.
"No more unfair than anything else. You want more women, you'll have to go to Risa," They got into the second ring of the circle.
"C'mon, Malcolm!" Tripp called out.
"Too much competition," he said, hanging back, "Too many moths around a golden flame."
"It's time to make your selections. Ladies, be fair! Give us guys a break," Chip said, getting on his knees in front of Blair.
She smiled down at him, "Sorry," She found Will.
Hoshi looked around and pointed to Mark Stone. He shook his head, "Hmmpf," she said to herself, and pointed instead to An.
Haddon paired up with MacKenzie. The rest of the women found someone until it was just Pamela, looking around.
One last confirmation. But where would it come from?
She scanned the remaining men. Her eyes focused on one. His face reddened.
Bingo.
She approached.
He looked down.
She pointed.
He looked surprised and a little puzzled.
She beckoned.
He followed.
=/\=
T'Pol checked the logs again. So far, so good. No more scans, at least not for the moment. The festivities could go on.
=/\=
The music started up again. A fast number.
She put her hand out.
He took it, tentatively.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes, I am, Malcolm," she said, "Tonight. Right?"
"Yes," he said, reddening again, "Tonight."
She whipped him around to start the dance. He followed a bit, and then yelled over the din, "I don't know the steps!"
"Improvise!" she replied.
He remembered, a bit, of how the movie had gone, so he repeated some of that. Sometimes he led, sometimes she did. Around and around, dizzy with it.
The music changed. A slower number. He was ready to stop. She wasn't.
"I, I don't know this one," he said, "I'm not very graceful."
"C'mere," she said, taking his hand and putting it around her waist, "Just move slowly, in a circle."
"I fear I'll step on you."
"I can get out of the way quickly."
He could smell her perfume. He concentrated on not stepping on her feet. He looked up for a second and saw Tripp and Travis, watching.
Travis said to Tripp, "I do believe we have a winner."
"Yep," said Tripp, "Lucky dog."
The song ended. Malcolm looked at Pamela, "Do you wish to continue dancing? I think I'm getting the hang of it a little."
"No," she said.
"Oh," he was about ready to give up.
She turned to him, "It's too loud in here."
"Yes, I don't normally go for parties."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Outside. I don't want other people to hear," she said.
"All right," They left the Observation Lounge and got into the hallway, ducking away from a couple who were kissing.
He led her down the hallway a bit, "It's easier to hear now."
"But not very private," she said, "Let's go someplace private."
"Oh," he said. He'd had some of the punch and was feeling it a bit, "There's the Botany Lab over there. I don't think the plants will be listening."
"No, some place more ... private," she said, "But my quarters are occupied."
"Occupied?"
"Yes. Blair and Will? The bride and groom for gosh sakes," she said.
"Then, um," he swallowed, "My quarters?"
"You should clear your roommate out."
"I don't, I don't have one."
"Then your quarters it is," she said.
"B deck," he said, taking her there. When they arrived, he opened the door and asked, "What did you, uh, what did you want to ask?"
"How you knew how to write a Shakespearean sonnet," she said, "It was a very creative touch."
He smiled to himself, "I just, I thought it would be appropriate. Did you, did you like it, Golden Lady?"
"Yes, I did," she said, "Did you mean it?"
"Yes," he squeaked out.
"Then show me."
He put his hands on her waist and leaned forward. He kissed her very lightly.
"I'm not a piece of china, Reed."
"No, no, of course not," This time he kissed her deeply. When they broke apart, he sighed a little.
"Reed, I'll give you a warning right now," she said, "I'm only going to be here another three weeks. So don't get too deeply involved."
"I, I see," he said, "Are you, is this, is it all right?"
"'Course it is," she said, initiating the kiss this time. She grabbed at his uniform a bit.
This surprised him, "I'm not, I'm not used to women being so aggressive."
"Does that bother you?"
"No, it's, it's rather intoxicating. Are you, are you certain you wish to do what I think you wish to?"
She smiled at him, "Yes," She kissed his neck, "I," She kissed his cheek, "Am," She kissed him on the mouth.
"It has been, uh, a while," he said.
"It's like riding a bike. You don't forget," she said, fiddling with his uniform zipper.
"No, I don't suppose you do. May I help you?" he put his hands on her skirt.
"That just pulls down, yeah, there," she said, then took off her top.
He stood and stared at her for a second. She was wearing a black lingerie and fishnet stockings that were held up by some sort of grippers on her legs and, perhaps, some defiance of gravity. Plus those same little black boots she'd worn when he'd first seen her, "My God, you're stunning."
She smiled at him, "I see you're more or less ready," She smiled at him and lay back on the bed.
He rolled down her right stocking and took it and the boot off together in one fluid motion. Then he moved to the left one.
And that's when he saw it.
Something he was not expecting.
He touched it, tentatively, an alien thing. He swallowed hard, "P-Pamela?"
"Yes?"
"Darling, have you been, have you, that is to say, have you been bitten by a, a wild animal?"
"Not exactly," she said.
"Oh," he touched it again. The thread of desire was fading. This was not good.
She looked at him and down at the alien thing, an irregular mark on the inside of her left leg, "Ex-boyfriend."
=/\=
Travis and Tripp finished up the last of the punch, "And here's to Ruby," Tripp said, "And her sweet favors."
"Yeah," Travis said, grinning.
"You, too? I thought it was just me and Reed."
"Reed, ha, it's the quiet ones," Travis said, "who can sometimes be the luckiest."
"I'll drink to that."
=/\=
The thread of desire was gone, gone, gone. Malcolm sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed.
"My God," he finally said, "What, what happened?"
"He got me in the femoral artery," she said, sitting up.
"Did he, did he beat you, Pamela?"
"It's all right."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is," she insisted, "It was a long time ago."
"But ..."
"Look, Reed. If you're not interested because I've got an imperfection, I can leave right now," she got up.
"Don't go," he said, touching her hand, "Please. Don't leave."
"All right," she said, sitting down next to him.
"Still. I, Pamela, I will never, ever do that to you. I can, I can pledge that to you."
"Reed, I'm warning you. Don't get too deeply involved."
"Please," he said, "Let me at least tell you that you're, you're safe here. With, with me."
"And I appreciate that. Actually, it was a bit of a favor."
"A what?" Malcolm was incredulous.
"Yes. I, uh, it's more sensitive there. Almost like I've got two, yanno."
The thread of desire was returning. With a vengeance.
"Do you, uh, mind, Pamela, if I, uh, test that theory out for myself? For, for science, as it were?"
"How?" she asked, watching him.
"I suppose I'll just improvise a bit."
=/\=
Dr. Keating-Fong was tired. It would be good to be away from the kids for a little while.
"Can you, can you turn the heat down a little bit in the shuttle?" she asked the Vulcan pilot.
"Compensating," he said.
"Thank you."
=/\=
Kissing her, no matter where on her body he did so, was a complete sensual experience. It wasn't just feeling and taste, but smell and texture and sound. The softness of her body, the hardness of her hip bones, the smoothness of her skin, the irregularity of the scar, the smell of her hair, the pressure of her fingertips, the heat and huh huh huh of her breath – they all conspired to lock him in.
When they broke apart, she was back in a flash, kissing him all over, working to get him worked up again.
Finally he lay down on the bed, "Ah," he said, "I'm spent. You?"
"Not completely," she said, "Help a girl out," she said.
He laughed a little, "I'm not in shape for this much ... activity."
"Practice makes perfect," she whispered in his ear, then kissed it.
"Allow me to, um," he said, voice trailing off.
"You've just had your hands all over and you can't ask me if it's okay for you to do something?" she teased.
"I suppose I'm too refined. Too much conditioning. Always told to be oh so proper."
"Well, what do you want to do?" she asked.
He whispered in her ear. She laughed, "It's just you and me here."
"I know. It's still not an easy string of words for me to say out loud, and hear myself say. Foolish hangup, I think. Seems very foolish right now."
"Well, don't ask. Just do," she said.
He didn't have to be told twice.
8
The next morning, Malcolm was shaking himself awake when he saw her, fully dressed, "Are you, are you going?"
"Well, I need to take a shower and stuff."
"You can take one here. With, with me."
"And then get back into dirty clothes? Honestly, Reed."
"Oh, yes, I suppose that would not be a good thing. Pamela, are you, are you free for, for breakfast?"
"I guess so."
"And supper?"
"Maybe."
"And all the other days you'll be here?"
"I don't know. I don't normally plan that far ahead. Like I told you, Reed: don't get too deeply involved."
"Well, it's just, I was thinking," he got out of bed and approached her, and put his hands on her waist, "if you're all right with it, then let's be together for your time here."
"Maybe," she said, looking at him, "You're, huh, ready to go again."
"Yes. See what you do to me?" he said, kissing her.
"There's not a lot of time," she said, "Still, I am already ... dirty."
He smiled at her.
"I like how you think. I can stick around a bit." She said.
"Well, I feel freer with you," he said.
"Here," she said, backing herself into a wall.
=/\=
Brian Delacroix set out breakfast for the captain's table. T'Pol, Doctor Phlox and Mark Stone would be joining him. He was setting out a few different kinds of jams when he noticed he was getting the beginnings of a sore throat. Probably nothing, he thought to himself as he set the table.
=/\=
Malcolm got to the cafeteria first, and found Tripp and Travis eating together already.
"Omelets are good. Get the Western," Travis recommended.
Malcolm brought over a fourth chair.
"Oh?" Tripp asked.
"Yes," Malcolm said, looking down.
"Congratulations," Travis said, "You won."
"Now, Reed," Tripp said, "you do not have to tell me anything, of course, but, uh, I just gotta say, I bet she's a hellcat."
Malcolm just looked down.
"You lucky so and so," Travis said, smiling.
"Who's getting lucky?" Pamela asked, arriving.
Malcolm stood up quickly, "Here," he pulled out a chair for her.
She thanked him, "So, big plans for today?"
"Checking an anomaly, it looked like a comet trail but then we were scanned. That was a, a bump you may have felt early last evening," Malcolm explained.
"As opposed to other things that happened later," she replied, grabbing his leg under the table.
"Could you two just get a room or something?" Tripp asked in mock exasperation.
"We already have one," She answered, leaning over to grab the pepper. "Boarding house reach."
"Uh, ahem," Travis said, "Do you, uh, have special things to, erm, do today, Doctor?"
"Yes. Surprise quiz that isn't really a surprise," she said, "Plus lab and all of that. I've got West Nile virus growing in a dish. Gotta check it; see that it's still going. My little infectious pet, I suppose."
"Porthos is a lot nicer," Tripp pointed out.
"Oh, the dog! A terrier?" she asked.
"Beagle," Malcolm said, "Friendly little thing. Phlox likes him; I'm surprised you haven't met the little chap yet."
"I think Doctor Phlox is keeping Sick Bay clear as there's so many of us in there at one time. Are you two also working on this, what is it, an anomaly?"
"Well, I'm steering around it. We don't always have options. Klingon space isn't too far away," Travis explained.
"Ugh. Klingons," she said, "Big lummoxes, they are. Do they, I've heard, do they smell?"
"Uh, a bit," Tripp admitted, "I've shared decon with a few. It was ... an experience."
"I hope I don't have such an intimate …" she paused and looked at Malcolm, giving his leg another squeeze, "experience with them. Ever."
"Not too much chance of that," Tripp said, "Reed here's got the ship well-defended."
"Nothing to, nothing to worry about," Malcolm said.
"Good," she said, finishing the last of her breakfast.
=/\=
"And you're going into which specialty?" Jonathan asked over breakfast.
"Psychiatry, I think," Mark said, "But we haven't had that rotation yet. I might change my mind."
"With the use of psychotropic drugs, I'd think that much of that specialty would be pharmacological in nature," Phlox said, "What I mean, in plain English is, after prescribing, what else is there to do?"
"There's still therapy, still discussions. Freud's old Talking Cure," Mark said.
"So people can still talk to their doctor and work out their problems, without being medicated?" Jonathan asked.
"Sometimes. But mostly there's medications. It's easier, and it works better," Mark explained.
"It makes one wonder if all patients desire such a treatment," T'Pol said.
"Oh?" asked Phlox.
"Yes. There are cultures where madness – or at least a mild form thereof – is considered to be the seat of creativity. Or at least, well, do patients feel, when they are medicated, that they could be losing their sense of self?"
=/\=
Malcolm got to shift on time. It was already shaping up to be an excellent day. He set to work quickly, checking logs and testing the targeting computer, making sure everything was absolutely, positively perfect. He'd run his third diagnostic by the time Jonathan told him to quit and just work on figuring out the anomaly. He smiled to himself a bit. Always overzealous, he thought. Whatever it takes to keep her safe.
=/\=
Pamela, Mark and the other students sat on stools in Sick Bay. Phlox announced, "And today we'll be having a quiz. Open up your PADDs and click on the file that I've just sent you. You'll have ten minutes."
"What file?" asked Will, showing Phlox his PADD.
"Oh, that's interesting. I could have sworn I'd sent it," Phlox said.
"I don't have it, either," said An.
"Does anyone have it?" asked Phlox. Everyone shook their heads, "Here, I'll just resend it. No, wait," he said, checking his own PADD, "I don't seem to have it, either. Strange. Hmm. Well, then we'll just do it orally."
Blair glanced over at Will for just a split second, and then looked away.
"All right," Phlox said, "What are some means for spreading typhoid? Mark?"
"Contaminated water. And, uh, asymptomatic carriers."
=/\=
"Could we turn down the heat a little?" a crewman asked Tripp.
"Sure. It is gettin' a bit stuffy in here. Better check the environmental controls, see if anyone's been messin' with 'em."
=/\=
The rest of the week progressed in much the same way. Malcolm and Pamela spent two meals together, and then their nights. During the day, he obsessed over keeping the Enterprise secure or helped Tripp try to figure out the anomaly. The ambient temperature was cool in most of the ship, and Pamela liked it cool, too, so he complied with her wishes when they were together.
The sex was intense and imaginative. He did things he never thought he'd do. He got to know what she liked, but still tried to keep her guessing. During the day, he missed her, and rushed to be with her, mostly leaving his friends behind in order to be close, even if all they were doing was chatting over a snack in the cafeteria, or working out in the gym.
Things altered in his head, and one day he got up and saw her sleeping next to him and realized that there was only one thing to do. It would require another sonnet, but not to be sent anonymously. No. This one would have to be delivered in person.
9
It was early.
Phlox checked again. This was not good. The entire Immunology text was wiped. He called the Bridge.
T'Pol answered, "What is the trouble?"
"I have – it's probably nothing – but the entire Immunology unit has been erased."
"Perhaps you can get a replacement from Dr. Keating-Fong."
"Good idea. And, sorry to trouble you. Phlox out," He muttered to himself a little. What was the cause of the erasure? He kept coming up with only one reason, and it was not a pleasant prospect.
=/\=
Malcolm watched Pamela sleeping. He cleared his throat a little as he could tell she was waking up. Good. Before the alarm. He touched her head, entangling his fingers in golden waves. She woke and smiled at him, that same, slight smile that she gave everyone, "'Morning," she said.
"How are you feeling, Darling?" he asked.
"Y'know, I've never been called pet names before. And here you go with Sweetheart and Darling all the time," she said.
"Is that, is that a bad thing?"
"No. Just unexpected. Wouldn't have thought you'd be the type. But I don't do it in return, Malcolm."
"I know. That's all right. I meant to ask you, are you – has it – have things improved since, since our first time together? I know it was, I know it was fast. And I apologize for that. It had been so, so very long."
"S'okay," she yawned, then grabbed at him a bit.
"Pamela," he managed to squeak out, "can we talk just a little bit?"
"Sure," she said, but didn't take her hand away.
He fought to concentrate, "I, uh, I have another sonnet for you."
"Oh? Should I check my PADD?"
"Uh, no. I wanted to, to deliver it in person."
"Oh, a live performance!"
"Y-yes. And, uh, it's difficult for me to, to concentrate while you're, you're doing that."
"Oh," she said, moving her hand away. Then she whispered in his ear, "Be right back."
"All right," he swallowed hard, and then recited:
"The Golden Lady chose the knave
and shared and lit his darkest night
A gen'rous soul, a heart to save
She filled his spirit with her light
A burning ember, burst to flame
as kindred souls entwine and merge
the knave, he could not be the same
falling, ever falling over precipice and verge
Her face was fair, her mind was keen
her body offered untold pleasure
And yet her heart remained unseen –
could the knave unlock this treasure?
The Queen, she came down from above
She changed the knave, who did it all for love"
He paused.
She got up and immediately started rummaging around, on the bed and then on the floor next to it.
"What are, what are you doing?" he asked, getting up.
"I told you, Reed! I warned you. I told you not to get involved."
"What? Wait! Wait!"
"No," she stopped what she was doing for a second and looked him in the eye, "I hate this part."
"What, what part is this?" he asked, and then began to shout, "Is this the part where you leave?"
She kept looking.
He repeated, louder, "Is this the part, Pamela, where you leave? Because you're thirty-four years old! You're, you're beautiful, and you're brilliant and, and women like that don't just choose men like me so I know – I can see – that the reason for all of the endings in your life, that reason isn't the rest of the human race. It's, it's you. It's that you can't commit. It's that people who love you scare you," He grabbed her left arm, harder than he intended to, and it reddened a bit.
She stared down at her arm until he dropped it, "No. It's not me leaving. It's, it's, this is the part where I explain. And then it's not me who leaves. It's you."
"Me? I have no intentions of going anywhere."
"You will. They always do. I may as well be dressed so I can make a quick getaway when you kick me out," She went back to looking.
"Stop, stop, stop! Pamela!" Reed shouted, "Stop! What is it? What is so, so horrible that you cannot tell me? I, is it, are you, are you married?"
"Ha, no."
"Then what is so awful that you cannot tell me. You can tell me," he said softly, "You can, you can tell me. And I'm, I'm sorry for shouting and for, for saying what I said."
"No," she said, finally spotting her clothes under a chair, "Nice guys like, like you, it's not what you want to hear."
"I want to hear," he insisted, taking her hand.
She looked away, "I totally and completely hate this part."
"Tell me, Sweetheart. Tell me."
"You asked for it," she said, straightening up and sighing, "Sit, sit down."
"I'd rather stand."
"Sit," she commanded, "People who get shocking news should be sitting down when they hear it."
"All right," he complied.
"I, you remember when, when I told you that it was all right. And what was all right?"
"Yes. It was about your scar."
"Well, it's not just all right that I have a scar. It's also all right as to how, how I got it."
"How so?" he asked.
"He – his name was Henry – Henry wasn't the only one doing the biting that night."
"So you, you bit him back? And you defended yourself?"
"No. I bit first."
=/\=
Shelby Pike looked around the Botany Lab, turned on a few lights and adjusted herself to its warmth. It felt warm, but the plants were getting a little droopy. She checked a thermometer. 18.3 C. It was supposed to be 26.7 C. It certainly felt like the latter. She shrugged. Maybe the thermometer was broken. She added more growth solution to perk up the plants and wondered why it was always so damned hot in the lab.
=/\=
"You what?" Malcolm was suddenly glad that he was sitting.
"You heard me."
"Yes, I suppose I did. I'm, I'm trying to comprehend it. It's like it's all moving at Warp Factor Five and I'm only plodding along at five KPH."
"I will spell it out for you. I instigated it, because that was the way Henry and I related to each other. And it's the only way I can really feel anything."
"Do you, I, am I to understand that I have never, ever satisfied you?"
She sat down next to him and put her clothes on the bed, "No. My body does respond. But if you want to get to me here," she thumped her right temple once, "and here," she thumped her sternum once, "it's through, it's through pain."
"Pain?"
"Yes. Feeling it, inflicting it. Dominating or submitting. I do both. Ready to kick me out now?"
"I, I, huh. I want to understand this, I do! Do you, do you know why, why you feel this way?"
"Yes."
"And ...?"
"And I can't tell you, because I know you'll only try to fix it. And I just don't want to be fixed. This is me. This is who I am. And it's ugly and it's messed up and it's wrong but it's still who I am."
"You're not, you're not ugly. Nothing about you is."
"No. You don't know me very well at all," she said, "If you did, you'd never call me generous. I'm not a kind person. I'm not thoughtful; I'm not helpful."
"You're a doctor, Pamela."
"And I don't exactly have much of a career ahead of me of healing as I do of perfecting and altering people, which is a whole other ball of wax."
"You were generous when you, when you forgave me for the, the first time," he said, "And you've been generous to stay with me."
"I –"
"Pamela, I am not even close to being the most, well, attractive man on this ship. Yet you are here, with me, and not with the others. Don't tell me you didn't have offers. I have eyes. I know they still look while I squire you around. But you are here with me every night and in the daytime, too! I don't know if this means that you have feelings for me but you cannot argue against at least, well, kindness or, or at least a kindredness of spirit. Like I told you in the first sonnet, it is all moving quickly, and if I have frightened you by mentioning my, my feelings, then I apologize but they are well and truly my feelings. I am, I am falling in love with you, whether you like it or, or not."
She smiled a little to herself, "So we are at a stalemate."
"No," he said, "I, I have a question. For you, in your first, uh, encounter, was it all biting and, and infliction?"
"No, I was fifteen and trying to make sure that my parents didn't find out. That was the overriding theme."
"And, and when did you, did you realize that you had these, I don't what to call them."
"Proclivities."
"All right," he said, "Proclivities."
"I was twenty-three."
"Was that with, with, you said his name was Henry."
"No, Henry came later. That all happened almost two years ago. He hit the femoral artery and I ended up in Emergency. He thought he'd be taken into custody and so we kind of, it was mutual how we ended it."
"Oh. So you weren't at Warp Factor Five immediately, then?"
"No, definitely not."
"Then here's a thought. And tell me if you think this could work. I, I cannot simply rocket straight to Warp Five. But if you, if you could see your way clear to being, well, patient, perhaps I could start at, at five KPH. And progress and see where it all goes. I am, I am willing to try if you are, Darling."
"There you go with Darling again," she said, "Are you sure? Because I've been down this road as well. There are some who've tried. But it all goes kerflooey at some point, where it gets too intense and they can't handle it."
"How long has anything lasted?"
"With nice guys, like you," she smiled at him slightly, "no more than about a month, five weeks or so. It's not a question of if. It's a question of when."
"And what about Henry?"
"Seven months. Longest relationship I've ever had. But I didn't have to have this conversation with him."
"No?"
"No. He was just a lummox I picked up in a bar. He already knew the score. No need to have this discussion at all."
"You said you hated this part, this discussion. I suppose I can see why Henry would be, would be attractive to you."
"It's, I hate this kind of a discussion so much that I will do almost anything to not have it. I have a lot of one-nighters. And when they go beyond one night, I say 'I love you' far too fast. I stay in relationships that aren't working way too long. And I do it because I despise the talk so very, very much," she said, looking away.
"One day, someday," he said gently, "it will be the very last time you ever have to have this discussion. And I cannot promise you that this was just that last, that last time. But pretend that it was, all right? And maybe that will comfort you a little."
"You are too kind for this," she said, getting up again.
"I think you – we, us – I think we are worth it," he said, "So tell me. Where's five KPH? How do I, how do I start?"
She thought for a moment, "Kiss me as hard as you can. And I mean hard. Harder than you think I can take. Start with that."
"Uh, all right. How do I –?"
"No warnings," she said, "Just do it."
He thought for a moment and realized he was standing on the edge of a cliff.
=/\=
Hoshi stretched as she got up. Ow. Things did not feel too good.
She'd been working out a lot. That had to be the reason for the muscle aches. Her PADD was flashing. A message from An. Would she like breakfast? Sure, just nothing hot. It was already too warm on the NX-01.
=/\=
Malcolm's alarm went off while he was thinking. He shut it off and saw that she was looking away.
He seized the opportunity and grabbed her hair, planting a kiss on her mouth that was as hard as he could make it.
She looked up when they broke apart, "How was, how was five KPH?" he asked, eager for any sort of a positive response.
"That was, uh, seven KPH."
"Seven?"
"Yes. The hair pulling. Nice touch. You've, um, got potential," she smiled and it was just a tiny bit broader than he'd ever seen her smile.
"Oh, uh, good," he said, relieved, "I, uh, I can't do it, do it that way every time, you know."
"I know."
"And, and I have to draw a line. I can't simply beat you. That's not; it's not in my makeup."
"That's, that's acceptable," she said, "Keep in mind, I go both ways, both inflicting and taking it, dominating and submitting. It's, it's easier if we both do both."
"And how, how do we decide who's going to, uh, to be, uh, Alpha? Do we draw straws? Keep a schedule or something?"
"No," she smiled, even more broadly, "I mean, do we decide in advance anything else? We just do whatever feels good, right? This is similar. We just start up and see where it goes. Sometimes I'm Alpha. Sometimes you are."
"Oh. This is all very new to me. I will have many questions."
"We'll need a Stop Word, too."
"What the devil is a Stop Word?"
"It's when it's going too far. You say it when it's all too much. Particularly if you think the injury's going to be a permanent one. See, Henry thought it would be funny to ignore our Stop Word. It's why I ended up in Emergency in the first place."
"Oh. What sort of a word are we talking about? I mean, isn't 'stop' a perfectly acceptable word?" he asked.
"No, it needs to be something we wouldn't normally say while in the throes. And it's very possible that one of us would say 'don't stop!' so as you can see, 'stop' is out. It has to be something really odd and unexpected. Like, like 'avocado'."
"Avocado?" he laughed.
"Yes. I am being totally serious."
"I know, Darling, but it's just so, so ridiculous."
"That's kind of the idea. Actually, the whole thing is. When you think of how we look when we do it, it's all rather comical if you really, really think of it, look at it closely."
"Avocado. Avocado," he said, trying it out, "And you'll stop if I say it? Immediately?"
"Immediately. And you must, as well."
"Of, of course. Avocado. I suppose if we really want to discuss bumpy green vegetables we'll refer to them as 'alligator pears' or some such."
"Yes. It will be our secret word. Just like the rest of this is secret," she said, kissing him, much more gently than he had just kissed her. She grabbed at him again.
"Pamela?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I'm, I'm ready to try ten KPH."