Title: Herculean Tasks - Alpha Timeline – Chapter 3 – Three Weeks Shy

Rating: K+

Category: gen/het

Pairings: Davenport/Goddard

Note: Canon divergence starts here.

Summary: Seth didn't want to admit defeat. He didn't want to tell T.J. that things were far worse than she knew. And yet both begin to question the future.

Chapter 3: Three Weeks Shy

Radu had long since left the office, but T.J. had not even left her couch. She'd been contemplating how she might be able to help Radu for the better part of an hour. The young Andromedan had confirmed her suspicions about the Headmistress, and T.J. didn't know what to do with that information. That was how Seth found her: lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, with her brow furrowed and her lips drawn into a frown. He cleared his throat to catch her attention, expecting her to leap out of her seat, smooth down her uniform, and address him with an air of authority. Instead she simply waved him in with a forlorn sigh.

Seth locked the door behind him before sitting on one of the arms of the sofa, staring down at her with concern. "You're not okay."

"Pardon?"

"Figured I'd cut to the chase." He shrugged. "Saves me the trouble of asking if you're okay, having you lie to me and say 'yes,' and then needling you until you admit you're not."

"You could have simply asked, 'What's wrong?'"

"And then you would've answered, 'Nothing,' and I'd be put in the same position. I was trying to save time."

T.J. rolled her eyes, adjusting the throw pillows behind her as she sat up and challenged him, "You think you know me so well, don't you?"

"We've worked together for three years. I like to think I've learned a bit about the real T.J. Davenport."

"The real me? Opposed to?"

"The woman, the myth, the legend."

T.J.'s cheeks burned, and she covered her face with one of the pillows in embarrassment. "What has Father told you now?" she mumbled into the fabric.

"We're probably about even; you've learned a lot about me too," he reasoned, pulling the cushion away.

"Yes, well, you are more insufferable than I presumed you'd be," she told him wryly, "opposed to the man, the myth, the legend."

"I guess I haven't exactly made your job any easier." He gulped and offered earnestly, "I'm sorry about that."

T.J. scoffed and swatted at him, defaulting to their usual banter. "Sometimes I swear you are worse than the students! Even so, I believe your heart is in the right place. Heaven knows where your mind is half the time."

"It's figuring things out." He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced about the room, determined to look anywhere but at her as he considered some of the heavier topics he'd been avoiding. His shoulders slumped, and his entire being appeared to be defeated. "I really am sorry."

T.J. fidgeted, wringing her hands before catching herself and clasping them together in her lap. "What exactly are you apologizing for, Commander?"

"Everything," Seth answered with a bitter chuckle. "For more than you know."

She shifted to make room for Seth on the couch, patting the spot next to her in invitation. He accepted, sliding down onto the cushion next to her. The sofa was large enough to comfortably accommodate both of them, but he chose to scoot well into her personal space until their knees touched. She searched his eyes for answers.

"Lucky for you, you'll only have to put up with my antics for three more weeks." He offered with a half-hearted shrug.

"I do not see how that makes me lucky." She knew the date his teaching stint would end. She'd always known. She'd typed it on numerous forms over the last three years. But hearing him speak of it aloud made the reality hit harder than she anticipated. "What if I have grown accustomed to your antics?" she wondered, sheepishly.

Seth nudged her with a playful smile. "Never a dull moment with me around, eh?"

T.J. did not reciprocate the gesture or smile, wondering, "After you leave, you will be sent back out in space with a crew, yes? That is where you belong, after all. And I am sorry I had a hand in keeping you from it for so long."

"None of this was your fault. I put my time in. I might not be reformed the way the higher ups want—"

"Heavens! I would need to slap some sense into you, if you were!" Off Seth's stunned silence, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "How do I fight without you?"

Seth's blood ran cold. "What?"

"Everything is escalating. No one is putting a stop to the racist remarks floating around the premises, and Radu was physically assaulted last week by a group of his peers while the students and staff simply stood there and watched. And the Headmistress…" T.J. hung her head.

"What about her? What happened? Did she threaten you?"

"Threaten? Why do you keep asking me that? I..." T.J. narrowed her eyes in confusion. An uncomfortable silence passed before she continued, "She and several other members of the Board are against everything the Starcademy and STARDOGS once stood for. It all just seems so futile. Maybe it is for the best if the school doesn't admit more students from Proxima."

Seth bristled. "You don't believe that."

"At least they would not be subjected to the same blatant xenophobia as Radu. The UPP is supposed to be an open and inviting governing body for all peaceful races. The Andromedans were invited to colonize one of our territories after the War, but Radu's whole world has been upended. And now we're destroying his trust by allowing him to be tortured in his new home where he is supposed to be safe."

"But we're not allowing that. You and I—"

"Are powerless! The Headmistress has always been cold and calculating, but she is actively trying to sabotage Radu, and she most certainly does not like the fact that you and I are helping him."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Radu overheard her. He had many questions for me, and I do not have the answers. What can we do in three weeks time to make any sort of difference?"

"Just because I won't be here doesn't mean—"

"You're a right pain in the arse most of the time, Commander—"

"Why do you keep interrupting me when you're asking me for my help?" he interjected, exasperated.

T.J. sighed. "Because I do not want to think about…" She held her tongue, taking a deep breath before starting over, "You may be a pain in the arse, hovering about and making your little messes, but you have a talent for knowing what to do about the things that truly matter. And I feel as though I've exhausted my options, so I am asking for your help. How do we make this right?"

Attempting to dodge the question, Seth asked one of his own, "Have you tried asking your dad for advice?"

"Right now I am not asking Father. I am asking you ."

He scrubbed his hands down his face. He didn't want to admit defeat. He didn't want to tell T.J. that things were far worse than she knew: that the racism at the Starcademy was the tip of the proverbial iceberg and that an influential part of the UPP was excusing and instigating xenophobia across the Sol System. He didn't want to tell her that Radu was actually safer at the school, and that the boy's home was probably occupied by soldiers in charge of herding his people into concentration camps. He didn't want to tell her that the government hired gun runners to prepare for—and most likely instigate—another war. He didn't want to tell her that the top students set to graduate with honors were likely to die in that war, and that his misfits were probably safer for being held back. He didn't want to tell her that four of his five students were already victims of UPP corruption in some way. He didn't want to tell her that the Starcademy was his safe haven, and he'd be a dead man walking as soon as he boarded his shuttle home. He didn't want to tell her he'd had these suspicions for a while...and he really didn't want to tell her that her father held his own suspicions for far longer.

Seth shook his head. "For the past few years, everything I've done has backfired. And I hate it. Despite the rumors, I have good reasons for everything I do. Even when I make messes. But I don't have the answers you want."

T.J. didn't miss a beat. "What answers do you have, then?"

Anything he told her would devastate her. If he could hold out long enough for James to arrive, then they could both talk to T.J. "Nothing that would help," he answered truthfully.

"How could I have let this happen?"

"It's not your fault."

"But it is. It must be," T.J. insisted, her voice quavering. "These children need an advocate, and I don't know if I can..."

She leaned back, staring at the ceiling contemplatively with a frown, lacing her fingers together and casually resting her hands on her stomach as she reclined. Her change in demeanor allowed Seth to glimpse a side of her he'd rarely seen before, and he felt a substantial shift in their dynamic. Even though he had been keeping things from her since Day One, and even though their working relationship had evolved from a professional to a more friendly partnership, this felt new.

"I cannot abandon them," she decided, her voice soft but determined. "I refuse to let them down."

Her statement gave him pause. "What do you mean by abandon?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

"I misspoke."

"I don't think you did."

"Commander, please!" T.J. snapped, sitting up again as her anxiety peaked. She took a shaky breath and muttered an apology before confessing, "I've been considering all of my options, and that includes tendering my resignation. However, I have also considered how it might feel to walk away. Leaving just wouldn't be right. And there are many reasons why I simply couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Because of Radu?" Seth asked carefully.

"I am needed here," she answered vaguely, yet resolutely. "You have the rest of your life out there waiting for you. But this?" She gestured to the placards and certificates adorning the walls with a shake of her head and a mirthless chuckle. "This is my life."

"You never wanted to do anything else?"

"Oh, I want plenty." Her frown deepened as she admitted, "Perhaps I want too much. It would seem there are some things I am not meant to do with my life and not meant to have."

"Like what?" Seth wondered, gently.

"What I want does not matter. I am needed here, helping these children. And that responsibility is more important than any selfish dream or desire of mine."

"You want to protect the kids too, though. You really do care about them." While this was not a new revelation, how deeply she cared was.

"My own accomplishments do not mean much. But the students? Their successes and failures? I remember every single one. That is how I choose to view what I have made of my life now. I suppose it is unfortunate that the change in political climate coincided with my promotion." She considered this for a moment before adding, "Although if I had not earned my position at that time, I supposed I would not have been assigned to work with you."

The timing couldn't have been a coincidence. But instead of pointing this out, Seth asked, "Is that last part also unfortunate?"

T.J. bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. "My opinion on the matter has changed over time."

"In what way?"

She offered a thoughtful pout and quickly gave up fighting the wry smile threatening to pull at her lips as she answered, "Working with you may be a task at times. But I do believe it has grown to be a somewhat enjoyable one."

He offered his own smug smile in return.

"Oh, honestly. Stop it," she chastised, swatting at his shoulder. "Do not let that go to your head."

"I dunno, I think it's a pretty big deal," he teased her, although he did think of it as a great personal accomplishment on his part. "After all, it's hard to impress Vice Principal T.J. Davenport."

T.J. blushed and grew flustered. "Well. You did come recommended by someone I hold in high regard."

Seth chuckled and shook his head, enjoying the lighthearted turn their conversation had taken as well as the associated banter. "I never thought you'd confess to enjoying my company."

"I never thought I'd have an honest reason to," she countered, playfully.

Seth let out an indignant, "Hey!" causing T.J. to laugh in earnest. And for a moment, he forgot about the corruption and danger and his bleak future. Instead he found himself content to share a simple moment of relaxation with the woman he'd come to think of as his friend. Yes, she was also his boss, and yes she drove him up the wall. Yes, they disagreed and had their differences. Yes, she made his job as her protector more difficult. But while feigned apathy had been one of his specialties before, Seth could no longer deny that he genuinely cared about T.J. and it wasn't necessarily a horrible thing if she realized that he...didn't hate her. His job began as just that: a job. But at some point, spending time around her had also grown to be quite an enjoyable task for him, as well.

"Commander, are you quite alright? You're staring," T.J. noted, her cheeks still flushed.

Seth cleared his throat and broke out of his reverie. He suddenly felt hollow as he realized, "I'll miss you."

"Commander?" She tilted her head as she studied the sullen man before her. When he didn't elaborate, she tried again, "Seth?"

He rubbed the back of his neck as he took a deep breath to calm himself. Space hated weakness. "Three more weeks, and that's that," he offered with an overly-casual shrug. "I'll be outta here. Might not see you again."

"We could keep in touch over the Spacenet, yes? Video calls."

"I, uh, I don't think my next assignment is going to allow for much contact with anyone."

"Have you been given your new orders already?" she wondered, surprised.

"Nah, not exactly. It's just, uh, I'll probably be under a lot of scrutiny. And who knows where I'll be or what kind of communication will be available?"

"Seth, you are not going to prison."

He cocked his head to look at her, now finding her mirroring his own expression of confusion as he thought about how to respond, deciding on, "It's dangerous out there. The vacuum of space—"

"I am aware," she interrupted. "But I am of the opinion that you do, in fact, have what it takes to survive. Some may disagree with my assessment, but I will certainly compose a compelling argument and deliver it to anyone who needs to hear it."

"I appreciate the thought. But it might be better if you saved that moral support for someone more deserving, for someone who's less of a risk to you and your reputation." There were tears in his eyes as he continued, "Three years ago, I came to your door with a whole lot of baggage. I don't want to leave any of it behind for you to deal with after I'm gone. You deserve better than that, T.J. You deserve way better."

She had taken note fairly early on in their working relationship that Seth's eyes often changed color depending on the lighting and his mood. She was accustomed to a sparkling cerulean, an angry cobalt, or a neutral crystal blue. As he waited for her to respond, they were now a haunted misty grey. The man seated next to her was so far removed from "the man, the myth, the legend."

"Commander… Seth…." She felt her lower lip trembling as she addressed him. She looked away as she willed herself to regain her composure. "Is this what happens, then? Is this how you live your life? You serve with a crew and then put up your walls and shut people out before you move on to your next assignment? You cut ties with people and use the flimsy excuse that it is for their own good?"

"No, that's not what I do!" He regretted his outburst immediately when T.J. flinched at his tone. He scrubbed his hands down his face and clarified, "That's not what I do, because I don't usually let my walls down in the first place."

"Oh." T.J. swallowed thickly.

"There was a time when I allowed myself to think of my peers and crewmates as friends," he explained, "but I couldn't operate the same way during the War. I couldn't allow myself to become too invested. I had to choose: feelings versus survival. But something about coming back here threw me off. And for that, I apologize."

"Apology not accepted," T.J. declared. "Please never apologize for caring. Compassion is in short supply around here. Besides…" Choosing her next words carefully, she settled on, "I worry about you, you know."

Not sure how to proceed, he nodded, accepting the sentiment at face-value. "Okay."

"Should I?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure how to answer that."

"Truthfully, for starters." T.J. played with the edges of her pillow as she stared at the far wall, lost in thought. "May I ask a favor of you?"

He shrugged in her periphery and gave an honest answer, "Depends on the favor."

"Do try to stay out of trouble," she requested. "I obviously cannot hold you to anything, but I will feel better if you promise me you'll try. I will not be around to cover for you, and you cannot trust—"

"Other people to do the same?"

"I was going to say that you cannot trust other people, full stop." T.J. cleared her throat. "I suppose I have thought of the many ways in which trouble could find you. You know me: always thinking ahead and making contingency plans. I just have this feeling I cannot seem to shake: a constant need to prepare for the worst, even though I do genuinely hope for…better."

Seth warred with himself as she looked to him expectantly, awaiting words of comfort to ease her mind. He soon found himself admitting once again, "I don't have the answers you want. Believe me, I wish I did."

"Does that mean…? Has trouble already found you?" T.J. took a deep breath, both needing and dreading the truth.

"Better me than you."

"How do you figure?"

"It's best if you don't know."

"For pity's sake! Stop speaking in riddles! Commander, as your superior, I demand to know what is going on!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I bloody-well do!"

"Pulling rank doesn't work with me, and you know it," Seth stood to leave and paused to look at her over his shoulder. "You may want to know what's going on, but not as my superior: not as Vice Principal. And you can't know. Not as…"

She gulped, her throat suddenly dry. "Not as what?"

"Not as…" Seth shrugged and sighed in defeat. He didn't know how to define it—whatever she was to him—anymore. Theirs was a unique dynamic: she was currently his superior by title, but she was also his responsibility and also his mentor's daughter and also his friend and also...

"You can't know: not as T.J. Davenport," is what he decided on, leaving the room with her staring after him, stunned and more than a little confused.