Trawl
For the twenty-third time in twenty seconds, he desperately wished he had a way with words.
She was staring at him expectantly.
Of course she was.
He had called her to his cabin.
"Kate," he began, and cursed inwardly when his jittered brain failed to add anything to her name.
Well not anything, but he did not think 'Let's do it again' was going to be adequate.
"Sir," she repeated, her distant tone echoing off the hollow walls.
He sighed as his eyes traveled to her perfect posture, her eyes fixed dead ahead. He felt his chest constrict as he took a breath. He needed to talk to Kate. Hell, he would even settle for his 'X.' Right now he was talking to his XO.
Not his lover, not his friend, but his naval Executive Officer.
"Kate, can you take a seat," he attempted, stealing a quick glance towards her. This time, she flinched.
If he ever wanted evidence that last night had meant something, the grimace had confirmed it.
She cared.
Which meant he could hurt her.
Shit.
Where the hell were those magic words?
He looked up briefly to see her hesitate, before clenching her jaw and taking a seat as instructed.
She sat on the only available piece of furniture available.
His rack.
He cursed inwardly.
"Sir," she stated forcefully, pulling his attention towards her.
Waiting.
"I just wanted to talk about yesterday's occurrence," he replied firmly, inwardly cringing as his debriefing words fell from his mouth.
He felt the tightness ease when he saw the tip of her lip curve upward in recognition of the familiar words. He chose to ignore that the smile was at his expense.
She cleared her throat.
"I think Nikki is coping relatively well under the circumstances," she replied her tone easing slightly as she took comfort in the safe topic of the Navigator.
He watched as a stray eye rolled towards him, obviously trying to assess whether the decoy would be accepted. He remained silent.
"She's performing well, better than what can be expected, under the circumstances," she continued, taking a small breath as she recounted the situation.
He gave a brief nod as he indulged her.
Coward, he berated inwardly.
"Sir, there was something I wanted to talk to you about," she began hesitantly, and he felt his heart surge with hope as he looked towards her. Maybe he would not need to come up with the opening line after all.
"Lancelot," she replied formally, watching his face for a flicker of recognition.
He blinked at her.
What?
"The fish," she stated, eying him expectantly as he stared at her.
Fish. They were at sea. There were many fish.
"Nikki's clown fish," she elaborated.
Nikki had a clown fish?
He heard her sigh.
Obviously, his expression had given him away.
He frowned slightly, how often did he look like a dumbass that she would recognize the expression instantly?
Then he felt the warmth spread through his abdomen.
She had been looking.
"Nikki has brought her clown fish aboard the Hammersley. E.T. gave it to her the night he proposed," she stated calmly but he heard her voice hitch ever so slightly on the name of their former shipmate. "I know the Navy regs, but with permission-"
"Whatever she needs, Kate," he replied automatically. This time she directly met his gaze, giving him a small nod in acceptance. He felt his mouth instantly dry as she finally made eye contact. He was certain she could hear his erratic heartbeat.
"Kate," he began softly, daring her to break their gaze as he searched her eyes, trying to read her.
"Don't," she responded.
It was almost like a plea, the short word pulling at his heartstrings. She turned her uncertain green eyes towards him, a mixture of fear and confidence.
"Drop it," she finished, her tone carrying a sense of finality as she slowly rose from the bed. She paused momentarily, giving him the opportunity to respond.
He wanted to know.
Needed to know.
"Mike," she offered softly, and he turned to her surprised.
"Do you ever have those events that you force yourself not to think about, because if you did, you wouldn't be able to think of anything else?" she asked, voice fractionally above a whisper.
He gave a small nod in reply, not trusting his voice.
She gave a small nod in response as she exited.
He knew she would never allow him to broach the subject again.
And above all.
This conversation never happened.