Beloved readers! I promise I didn't forget about you this morning, and I know I'm late! There were a lot of appointments on my schedule, and I tried to get it off before I left, but I just didn't have time. So, in return, this chapter is actually super long. Have fun with it!
(P.S. Beyond is on DVD. I officially own Beyond. I watched. I cried. I listened to Sledgehammer as I posted this. It was beautiful.)
AHEM!
Chapter Thirteen: In which Bones and Camille are precious, Karina discovers her competition - and exactly why Spock was being so illogical earlier, Sulu decides to test Chekov's Standard abilities (and the results are glorious!), Karina does some spring cleaning, the pair of them are adorable little cupcakes, and Camille has some mom-time. Also, predictions are made. Will they be true? Y'all have to wait to find out! Mwahahahaha!
I own nothing!
"Have you even been wearing your cast?" Bones asked, quite certain he already knew the answer. Camille's jaw tightened in her typical I'm-too-stubborn-to-function way.
"Of course I've been wearing my cast, Bones," she growled. "It's a bit difficult to take off, don't you think?"
"Well, what have you been doing in the meantime?" Bones asked. "Pounding your wrist up against your bed post or something? At this point, I'm going to have to push your removal back a month."
"A month!" Camille protested, her mouth falling open in indignation. "Come on, Bones!"
He shrugged, irritation running through his veins. How hard was it to understand that you had to actually rest an appendage for it to heal properly? At this rate, she'd be lucky if it ever functioned correctly again, though he figured if he tried telling her that she would go positively ape on him. And Camille going ape was something he tended to avoid at all costs.
There were some pretty great aspects of her intense personality. Her defensive side for one. The way fire glinted in her eyes whenever his ex-wife came up in conversation. Her disapproval of any woman Jim happened to be going after, even if she knew Jim had no intention of pursuing anything more than a one-night stand. How she was just protective of Karina in general.
And the woman's fighting spirit was nothing short of enamoring. Her determination last year to beat her lung condition was what had first drawn him to her. Okay, if he were to be honest, it was her innate determination to have her way with him – which had been not at all. Why he'd found the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him attractive, he had no idea. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment.
But what he liked most about Camille was that she was dependable. Bones tried to be dependable when he cared enough about a person to call them more than just a casual acquaintance. It was rare to find someone who fit his standards for that, and after his divorce, he was a bit gun shy, in any relationship. How he and Jim managed to get along so well, he had no idea.
Camille, however, he would trust with his life. She may be young, but he knew she would never let him down, never betray his trust.
Well, unless he trusted her to take care of any healing injuries herself. His life, he'd trust her with, but her own? He wasn't quite sold on that one yet.
"Look, Cam," he said. "Just be glad I'm not keeping you on bed rest until then. And believe me, I've been tempted. Like it or not, you have a tendency to injure and keep injuring yourself."
"Are you saying I don't care about my own health?" Camille demanded.
Bones groaned inwardly, rubbed the space in between his forehead and eyes, fighting that headache that threatened to rise every time she demanded an explanation for his diagnosis. Or anytime they argued, for that matter. Knowing that giving her a heated reaction would just give her exactly what she wanted, or, for that matter, make her more defensive, he bit his initial response.
"No, that was not what I was saying at all," he told her. "What I was saying is that you can be reckless sometimes. And not always think about what it's going to do to your injury. You want the best of both worlds with this, Cam. You want to live life without any impairments, but you also want to ignore the healing of said impairments. Is that clear?"
Camille tilted her head, intrigued. "How do you know so much about how my brain works, Bones? It's kind of freaky, to be quite honest with you."
How was he supposed to respond to that? Tell her that he was observing her closely every time they were together? That as much as he did enjoy Jim's company – annoying little jerk though he was – and Karina's, the reason he got up in the morning to drag himself down to the cafeteria was to see her before his long shift in the clinic? That he wanted to know every single detail about her, so he observed? That maybe he wasn't as surface as he appeared?
How was he supposed to tell her that when he knew there was no possible way she felt the same way about him?
Fortunately, he didn't have time to even attempt to formulate an answer, because she picked herself up off the table and brushed some stray hair out of her face. Adjusting her cast and grimacing slightly, she said, "Okay, fine, Bones. I'll be more careful. I promise."
She looked up at him as though expecting something else. Suddenly he was painstakingly aware of her nearness. She was looking up nearly a foot into his eyes directly, and he found himself mesmerized.
"I'll believe it when I see it, Cam," he responded, amazed at how under control he sounded, not as if there were sparks shooting all throughout his senses, as if his heart wasn't pounding out of his chest.
Camille looked as though she were about to leave, then turned around and hopped up on her tiptoes, pecking him on the cheek quickly. Then she hurried out, passing Juliet hurrying Sulu in before her.
"I keep telling you, I understand your love of Japanese cuisine, but you can always splurge and go find a sushi joint some place, Hikaru! There's no need for you to risk suicide by trying to make it on your own when you've never cooked a day in your life!" Juliet was railing at Sulu, who was holding his right hand under his left thumb, which was gushing blood at an indecent rate.
Shaking her head, Juliet turned to Bones. "Hey, Bones, do you have a prescription for pigheaded- Bones? Bones?"
Bones was barely paying attention. He was just staring straight ahead, vaguely aware of a tingling sensation on his face and trying to remember what his name was and what day of the week it was. He turned to Juliet, shaking his head as if to clear it.
"Sorry about that. What were you saying?"
"Cadets, this exercise will be more properly executed if done in partners. However, I have taken the liberty of selecting them for you," Spock intoned, eyeing his students. There was a low murmur spreading throughout the classroom, followed by a few audible groans from his less inhibited pupils. Karina, who'd learned something about exhibiting tact, was decidedly not one of them.
"Experience has taught me that allowing you to choose your own will merely impede your progress. I have posted the pairings. Now proceed, please, Cadets."
Karina tapped on the screen at the top of the table to see who Spock had paired her with. Uhura. Okay, that wasn't too bad. She didn't really know her that well, but Uhura seemed like a decent person, albeit one who would be dangerous to cross. Karina didn't intend to make that mistake.
Normally, Karina took it upon herself to make the switch of seats and go to her partner's table, but today she'd hesitated just a little too long, and Uhura came to her. Karina shot her a small smile in greeting and pulled up the assignment Spock had also put on the screens. Karina herself found that she preferred paper to computers, but she knew she was one of the few who did. Apparently her Vulcan instructor did not share the same love for killing trees that she had.
"So, how are you finding morphology to be?" Uhura asked her. "Easy, hard?"
"Relatively easy," Karina said automatically. It wasn't an automatic response because she wanted people to think she wasn't out of her league here. It was the truth. But she could tell from the slight change in Uhura's facial expression that she didn't believe her. Sometimes Karina really hated being a kid in Starfleet.
Fortunately, that had been one of the great things about her friendship with Pavel. He could totally relate. Both of them were slightly younger than the average cadet – okay, correction. He was riding on the border of slightly. But she was fully immersed in the much younger category. Funny how a simple twenty-one month difference could do that.
Either way, he totally got it, even more than Cam did. Camille may have been younger than average, and she may have looked it, but her personality and confidence made up for it. Karina didn't quite have that confidence. But she wasn't ashamed of being a kid. It was something she wanted to appreciate while it was here.
Seriously, though, the way Uhura was looking at her bugged her. She cleared her throat and asked, "What about you?"
Uhura shrugged. "A breeze, I guess," she said. "But this assignment in particular is getting me."
"Is there something I can help you with, Cadets?" Spock asked, walking past.
Uhura shook her head. "No, thank you, Commander."
He nodded, lingering a bit longer. Karina thought that slightly odd, considering how illogical it was that they might need help this early on in the game. She looked at him, saw his eyes linger on Uhura.
And suddenly everything was clear to her.
How could she have missed it? The way his demeanor changed slightly whenever she spoke, the way she was almost too eager to please him. And all this time, Karina had just thought Uhura had a case of teacher's pet! Well, she did…but for an entirely different reason than Karina had suspected.
Not that Karina had issue with that part. Even though it was a bit, well, forbidden, it wasn't uncommon for Academy instructors to have affairs with their cadets. The ones who were of age, of course. Were she in Uhura's shoes, it would have been far, far different. That would have been bordering on harassment, no matter how decorated of a graduate Spock was.
Karina almost found herself smiling. She could picture the pair of them together, shocking though it was to see her cold, calculating instructor in that sort of relationship with anyone. It didn't have the same thrill for her as Camille and Bones, but it did seem closer to fruition than the pair of them.
What gave her pause was another detail. Spock called everyone but Uhura "cadet." He insisted on calling her "lieutenant." Karina frowned. Wasn't there some regulation about that?
Yes! Instructors had the option of calling cadets by their official rank. It was recommended that they address them as "cadet" in order to avoid the possibility of a cadet considering their officers their peers, rather than their superiors.
But what actually got her was that the highest rank a cadet could achieve in the Academy was Ensign – just as she had, and Pavel had. The only way you could become a lieutenant was…
She eyed Uhura, who was now intent on the assignment in front of them.
…currently being the top cadet in your field. Such as Jim, Bones, Camille, and… Uhura, evidently.
The woman she was currently manacled into working with was her flipping competition for the position on the Enterprise!
Uhura looked up at her, frowning. Karina mentally kicked herself, realizing that the sudden feeling of utter despising she felt was probably written all over her face.
"Something wrong, Karina?" she asked. Karina shook her head, fully intending to cover her tracks on that one. If everything went according to plan, Uhura would never know that Karina had an eye on her spot.
"No, nothing. Nothing at all."
"How's the English lessons going?"
Chekov hadn't expected to run into anyone today. Even though Starfleet encouraged its recruits to stay in shape physically, most people preferred to utilize the gymnasium, rather than the track. Or, if they were running, they went through the streets and hills of San Francisco. However, not many of the Starfleet officers were runners, he guessed. So, he'd thought he'd have the track completely to himself today.
What he'd expected even less was to hear the older cadet whom he recognized from Navigation speak to him in perfect Russian.
"Good," he responded. "How did you know about that?"
The man held his hands up in the air. "I don't actually speak Russian," he said, back to English. "Karina just told me to ask you that at some point."
Chekov nodded, thinking he understood the gist of what he'd said. He and Karina talked in Russian the majority of the time, except when she was teaching him directly. And she was about the only person he talked to conversationally… so he didn't have all that much experience. Good news was this guy seemed to understand how to speak to someone learning a new language.
"I feel you, you know," the guy said. "I had to learn both English and Japanese at the same time when I was a kid. New languages kind of suck." He held his hand out. "Sulu, by the way."
Chekov frowned, and the guy grinned, realizing he hadn't clarified. "My name," he added. "Don't worry, it's not something Karina hasn't covered with you yet or anything."
Seeing the humor but still a little embarrassed, Pavel at least managed to return the grin. "Chekov," he said, figuring that, like most of the male cadets here, they'd stick to a last-name basis. Figuring he should potentially make some kind of conversation, he searched for something in his arsenal of English phrases that somewhat resembled small talk.
"So...how do you know Karina?" was what he finally settled on. He must have sounded defensive or something because Sulu took a break from his stretching and once again held his hands up, as though showing himself unarmed.
"Don't worry about that one, trust me. I mean, I'm not saying she won't be a very attractive woman one day, but if you're interested – "
Chekov immediately backpedaled, saying, "No, no! Definitely not what I meant. I'm just…" He searched for the word.
"Curious?" Sulu offered helpfully. Chekov nodded, wondering if perhaps he wasn't reacting a bit too strongly. Sulu appeared to not believe him in the slightest, but was also tactful enough not to press the matter.
"I don't, not really. I mean, we may have fought off a group of Romulans together at the beginning of the year, but that doesn't leave much time to get to know someone, does it?"
"Zat vas you?" Chekov exclaimed, suddenly not hearing anything else Sulu had said. The other cadet shrugged.
"Honestly, it was more Karina and her friends than anyone else. Me and my friend Juliet were sort of just back up."
Chekov contemplated that for a few minutes. She hadn't told him that part of her life. But if it was anything like it sounded like, Karina had been instrumental in saving Starfleet. How had he not known that?
"We were asked not to advertise it," Sulu continued, answering Chekov's question. Clearly they were done talking about Karina, because he continued, "So, what brings you to the track today?"
Chekov shrugged. "Just felt like running. I come here at least once a week. Running helps me think sometimes."
Sulu looked surprised. Eyeing him up and down, he said, "You must be about the only reason they keep this thing, then. I mean, I understand its importance, and everything, but I usually prefer the streets when I'm running casually."
"What are you doing today, then?" Chekov asked. He wasn't sure if what he did was casual running… or if he even believed there was such a thing.
"Training," Sulu responded, going back to his stretching. "You heard about the annual Starfleet marathon, Chekov?"
"Nyet – I mean, no," Chekov said. "It vould be adwertised in English, right?"
Sulu smacked his forehead. "Right. Sorry, I didn't even think about that one. So, there's this marathon every year at the end of March. A marathon, you know," he amended when Chekov looked confused, "a bunch of people running around a track to see who gets there first?"
Chekov nodded his understanding. "Go on."
"Anyway, I realize it's still about five months away, but I figure training for it now's a good idea, right?" Sulu asked.
Chekov thought it seemed a bit excessive, but held that opinion in. Sulu struck him as an ambitious sort of person so maybe that was just the way the older cadet was. "How fast are you?" he asked, curiosity suddenly piqued.
Sulu grinned. "I can hold my own," he said. "You?"
Chekov shrugged, attempting to dismiss the question. "I'm not bad," he said, knowing he was downplaying everything. In all actuality, he was pretty fast. When he was a kid – well, a younger kid – back in Russia, he could pull any manner of prank on his friend Dimitri. Normally, Dimitri had a temper that would terrify a much braver child than Chekov had been, though he hadn't exactly been lacking for guts. However, he could outdistance Dimitri by a mile every single time. And he'd had other reasons for being fast.
Sulu stood, looking as though he liked the idea of a challenge. "You want to have a go of it? See which one of us 'not bad' runners is worse?"
Normally, Chekov didn't consider himself a competitive person, but hey, running was running. Recalling a phrase Karina had used the other day, he grinned. "You're on."
The pair of them lined up side by side, directly behind the line that marked the starting point. Sulu looked over at him. This guy was clearly a competitive person by nature. "You sure you don't want me to go easy on you?" he asked, a smirk twisting his mouth in a way that made him look slightly arrogant.
"Your choice," Chekov said indifferently.
"On my mark…" Sulu said, gave the count-off, and then the pair of them were off like a pair of bullets around the track, faster than if there'd actually been a starting pistol in use.
Chekov didn't remember pulling ahead of Sulu. In fact, he didn't remember most of the run. They hadn't agreed to do more than one lap, but by the end of the fifth lap, Sulu was lagging rather far behind as Chekov came to a stop back where they'd began. He pulled off to the side and waited for Sulu to get there. Seeing he was clearly beat, the older cadet slowed down to a walk and finally, upon arriving, bent over, hands on his knees, panting and looking for all the world utterly spent.
"Not…bad?" Sulu asked, looking up at him. "That was the fastest I've ever…you probably cleared that in… Just, wow." Straightening, Sulu smiled in amusement. "I'm not sure whether I'm more annoyed or impressed that you beat me."
"You don't seem annoyed," Chekov offered, thinking he'd be helpful. Sulu just laughed, however.
"I guess the impressed part of me is winning, then," he said. "Just saying, you should really think about competing in that marathon. I mean it!" he exclaimed when Chekov made a dismissive gesture. "I mean, look at you! I'm here, about ready to quit for the day, and you look like you could go for another fifteen laps."
"Vy vould I vant to?" Chekov asked. "Ze marathon, I mean. Give me one good reason."
"I don't think you hate running, for one thing," Sulu said. "Take it from someone who's been accused of being a workaholic, doing something for the pure enjoyment of it isn't a bad idea every once in a while. Me? I read, fence and attempt to make my own sushi. You? Seems like you run. If for no other reason, do it for that."
Flipping his towel over his shoulder, Sulu turned to go, then turned back. "You know, I'm a realist. But there's something to be said for escapism, Chekov. It's why I read. But what I saw just there? I think you go to a whole other world when you're running. It's not, well, running from real life if you want to go there. Just something to think about."
He actually went this time, but shouted over his shoulder, "You can sign up for it at any time, even the day before. Oh, and there's a prize… of monetary value. If that holds any sway for you."
More than Chekov cared to admit.
He could do it, he guessed. But there was a reason he was trying not to draw attention to himself here, a valid reason. Plus, when it came down to it, running was what he was good at. Running in general, and running from his problems.
Karina knocked on the door. She hadn't been in many other cadet's rooms before, mostly hers and Jim's, so she hadn't known this wing of rooms existed before today. Checking her watch, she knew Camille was probably pacing the room, freaking out about potentially missing their shuttle. Karina had finally made the decision to go to Cam's for the holiday. She'd spend at least one week with Jim and his mom in December.
"You will stay with her, won't you?" she'd demanded of Jim before he and Bones had left to catch their shuttle. "It's a holiday, Jim. You should spend it with your mother for that reason, if nothing else."
He'd laughed and pulled her into a bear hug. "Relax, Kari. We won't get a hotel this time. Mom already basically ordered that we take her guest room. Well, Bones'll get that. I'll probably be banished to the couch. Unless Bones wants to spoon, isn't that right, Bones?"
Bones had shot him a death glare. "Don't even think about it. I know how to kill you in a hundred and fifty different ways that will make your death look perfectly natural."
Karina actually had briefly considered staying here in San Francisco for the holiday. She imagined most of the cadets would be gone for the weekend, and Starfleet didn't roll out the stops exactly for Thanksgiving. She just didn't like the idea of Pavel feeling alone. It wasn't exactly a big deal holiday-wise for him, she knew. But it had to get lonely sometimes when everyone else had vacated. How had the month-long hiatus this summer been for him, she wondered?
In the end, though, she'd figured it would be rude to turn down General and Mrs. Osbourne's invitation for favor of someone she'd only been friends with for a few months, when she wouldn't even be celebrating the holiday in that case. So, instead of bunking over for the weekend, she'd come to Pavel's room to drop off some things for him to work on over the few days she'd be gone.
On the other side of the door, she heard a slight scuffling sound, as though she'd caught him off guard. There was a sound like a door slamming, and a bunch of crinkling sounds before he opened the door and let her in.
The first thing she noticed was the ants. They weren't exactly everywhere, but a group of them were congregating in the corner around something that looked like a discarded food item. There were wrappers on the floor. And that door slamming must have been that mini fridge staring her directly in the face from across the room. She looked at him for a few minutes, not quite believing the state of the place. Not that her room was much better, but at least she lived in relative cleanliness, if a bit cluttered.
He was turning red under her indicting stare, and she considered that to probably be a good thing. Maybe he'd clean up after she left. No, an even better idea. Putting the stack of paper she'd brought with her in his hands and ordering "Hold this," she did a clean sweep of the floor, brushed the ant pile into the wall vacuum, and started scouring under the bed for anything else.
"Zat isn't necessary – " he began awkwardly.
"Don't try to get on my good side by using English, young man," she called from under his bed, choosing to still use Russian. "I'm doing this because I'll feel better if you aren't living in a pigsty while I'm gone. Now shush and let me do my job."
"Young man? Aren't I older than you?"
"Pfft! You're older by what, almost two years, Pavel? 'Young' is a generic term. And congratulations! Your bed is relatively clean." She straightened up and went back over to him, taking the paper and placing it on his desk. Catching the look in his eyes at the size of the stack, she smirked. "I don't expect you to do all of this…maybe just three quarters of it?"
He nodded. "I can do that."
As always, however, she could see clear as day when something else was on his mind, and she turned to face him, one hand on her hip in a sassy posture. "Okay, tell me what you're thinking. And don't even try to tell me you're not thinking. I can see the wheels turning in your head."
"Why will it make you feel better if my room is clean?" he asked. "Why do you care, exactly?"
It wasn't a negative comment, but a frank question, and Karina appreciated that. She thought about how to word her answer. It wasn't that complicated of one, but she didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Finally, she figured out her approach.
"Pavel, ever since we've met, you've spent so much time trying to be my friend," she said. "I'm grateful for that, I really am. And I tried to put effort into you, but somehow, it just didn't seem enough to me, that interrogation thing we did. Then it occurred to me, what makes my other friendships so good? Probably the fact that I've always felt cared for. So this is me," she concluded, "taking care of you. I'm not saying this comes easy to me. Acts of service isn't exactly my love language. I'll explain that later," she said, waving off his confused look. "So I'm sorry if this doesn't happen all that often. But I just thought, maybe… That's what I should do, because I'm your friend. Do you get that?"
He frowned for a few minutes, and she was worried that everything she'd said had gone over his head, or that she'd only served to freak him out. When he finally spoke, however, Karina was half relieved, half irritated to find that most of what she'd said hadn't even registered.
"Love language?" he asked, utter confusion marking his face. Karina groaned and facepalmed.
"Very long explanation which I do not have time to go into at the moment, or else I'll miss my shuttle to New York and Camille will kill me. Anyway, here's some stuff to work on over the weekend. And…I guess I'll see you in a few days?" she finally broke off the conversation, still trying to remember if there was anything else to say.
He nodded. "Yeah. I guess you will."
They stood there in moderate awkwardness for a few minutes. Karina wondered if she should hug him, but for some reason the thought made her uncomfortable. Yet it wasn't unpleasantly uncomfortable, just… oh, she didn't know what she was thinking! Just that she was thinking it, and it definitely made hugging Pavel in this particular circumstance off-limits.
She'd been hesitating too long, evidently, because he looked as though he was expecting her to do something more than just say good-bye and leave. The tension in the room was palpable as both waited for the other to make the next move.
They both moved at the same time, Karina to open her mouth and say, "Well, bye then," and just escape the confounding situation, and Pavel, adorably awkward as ever, to hold his hand out in an attempt to shake hers.
The words had barely left Karina's lips before she broke out into a grin and shook her head in amusement, reaching out and accepting the handshake. "See you," she said, and with that, left the room.
Chekov watched her go, smiling after her. As soon as the door shut, he looked around the room. Well, this was the cleanest it had been in a year. Flopping down on the bed, he thought, Maybe there are some advantages to having friends of the female persuasion.
"So, Camille," her mom asked, after Karina and Camille's dad had retired to the living room. Karina had expressed a sudden interest at learning how to play chess, and General Osbourne was a master at the game. Camille had no clue where this desire of Kari's came from, but she figured it had something to do with the kid's ADD tendencies.
"Yeah, Mom?" Camille asked. She'd been heading after them, because watching her dad and Kari sass each other was nothing short of hilarious and precious.
"You and I really haven't had a chance to talk since you got home yesterday," Mrs. Osbourne said, patting the seat next to her at the table. "I mean, yes, we've talked, but always with your father and Karina around. I need some time with my girl. We only get you for a few days, you know."
Camille relented and took the chair. Now that it had been suggested, she realized just how much she would, in fact, like to have some one-on-one time with her mom.
"Tell me about how things have been going at the Academy, hon," Mrs. Osbourne asked. "Your letters have kept getting shorter and shorter. I just wasn't sure if everything was okay. I haven't heard anything about Bones and Jim in a while. How are things in that area?"
Camille shrugged. "Things are really okay, Mom. In every area. I mean, they're almost too okay, if you know what I mean. I'm almost becoming domesticated. Nothing's happening, and I'm getting used to it."
"What does that mean, exactly?" her mom asked. "I mean, I'd assume nothing new is a good thing, right?"
"I guess so," Camille muttered. "I just feel…restless sometimes. There's no good battles to fight, you know? What is wrong with me, Mom? I feel restless when things are good, and then when things go to hell in a hand basket, I start to wish for the simpler times. Is that normal?"
Her mom seemed to calculate her answer. "Honestly, honey, I don't think that's necessarily abnormal. It's isn't good, either, but it's human. Almost no one is content where they are. You were born for excitement, sweetheart. As much as the idea of peace sounds great when you're in the middle of a fight, you thrive on adrenaline, kiddo. You're a junkie."
"So, basically, I need to go ask Bones for an adrenaline injection every once in a while?" Camille asked, smirking.
"Only if you want to kill something," her mom replied dryly. "And speaking of such… how is Bones, exactly?"
Camille groaned and leaned back in her chair, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. "So that's the real reason you wanted to talk, is it? I should have known."
"Hey, from what it sounds like, you're getting a taste of your own medicine here," Mrs. Osbourne teased. "Although just know that you aren't Karina, therefore you aren't going to be nearly as convincing when you tell me it's nothing. You can't hide anything if you wanted to, Camille Elizabeth. And I know you don't want to. Now read back over the letters you've sent me and tell me that there's nothing there for Bones."
Camille wasn't planning on hiding anything from her mother, but she knew that if it came down to it, there was no way she could ever hope to do so, just as Mom had said. She sighed.
"Bones is Bones," she said. "Infuriatingly stubborn. Insistent that I follow his medical instructions to the letter, even if I'm perfectly fine without them. In short," she concluded, smiling slightly, "I think he's fantastic."
Mrs. Osbourne grinned. "And how does he feel?"
"He definitely agrees. Referring to me, of course, not himself. Still working on him in that area. But I'm starting to get frustrated with the man. You know how you would read me those stories when I was little about Prince Charming riding up on the white horse?"
"I seem to recall those."
"Well, he's no Prince Charming, that's for sure. Not that I want one of those – SOOO overrated – but he could at least pick a faster mount than a flipping giant Galapagos tortoise!" Camille exploded in frustration.
"Who's riding a tortoise?" came her dad's voice from the living room.
"Don't worry, General Osbourne," Karina responded. "She's just telling Mrs. Osbourne about Jim's new hobby. The guy gets into some weird crap, right?"
A pause, then her dad's uncertain voice: "I suppose so…"
Camille shook her head and turned back to her mother, who was nodding. "In other words, he's taking his sweet time about making a move, right?"
"Exactly! Mom, what is his deal? What is his problem? Am I not being completely obvious? Why hasn't he acted on this yet? I swear, Leonard McCoy can be the most infuriating, exasperating – "
"Just a thought, sweetheart," Mom interjected into the tirade. "How old are you?"
Camille frowned. "Nineteen."
"Right. Fairly recently, actually. How old is Bones?"
Camille lowered her eyes. "Almost twenty-eight."
"Now, from what I understand, Southern men have a certain sense of…propriety," her mom began.
"But Mom, he's from Atlanta! They can't be that old-fashioned!"
"First of all, don't interrupt me, young woman. Secondly, he's probably thinking of what people will think if he goes for a younger model than what he's gone after in the past. You see what I'm getting at here? Also, there's implications if a younger girl is dating an older man."
"Such as?" Camille asked, finding the whole topic thoroughly exhausting and wishing they could just go back to the lack of adventure since January.
"A gold digger, for one. Not that Bones has any monetary value to speak of, but people could still talk about you. And I consider that far more likely to be what he's thinking about in this situation, hon. Your…honor, I suppose," she finished lamely.
"But I don't care about… 'honor,' Mom," Camille said. "Can't he see that?"
"You may have to show him," Mrs. Osbourne said. "Notice how the princess in those stories never got up off her butt and tried to escape the tower on her own. If the prince – "
"Cowboy, Mom," Camille corrected. "He's the cowboy."
Mrs. Osbourne shrugged. "The cowboy, then," she amended. "If the cowboy isn't getting his crap together and looking for a faster steed, maybe the princess will have to do some rescuing of her own, huh?"
Sitting back in her chair as though to signal this topic was done with, Mrs. Osbourne lowered her voice and said, "Now, tell me about this boy Karina mentioned. What's up there?"
Camille grinned. "She's claiming they're just friends. But at this point? I haven't met the kid yet, but I give it maybe two years."