Fic: Starting Over, 1/3
Starting Over, part 1. Go here for the full header.
Part I: Late 2254
Ensign Allison Jarvis was just about to step into the sonic shower when her comm vibrated on the sink where she'd set it. She thought about not answering it, but it could be a medical emergency . . . She flipped it open.
>Get to Observation Deck B now!< The message was from-who else-Lieutenant Commander Caitlin Barry, her occasional, er, something or other. Fuck buddy? Probably. But she'd sent it from her personal frequency, not from one of the ship frequencies, so it was definitely a booty call and not a real emergency.
Ally sent back, >Can it wait?<
>No. Now. Trust me when I say it'll be worth your while.<
True. Time spent with-or under, beside, behind, above, whatever-Cait was always worth it.
Ally sighed, pulled her uniform back on, skinned her blonde hair back into a bun, and sent a quick >I'm coming< before heading out and towards the observation decks. When the turbolift opened, she saw Cait, her backside facing Observation Deck A, her ear pressed to the door of Observation Deck B. Before she could speak, Cait turned and gestured for her to be quiet, and to come up to her.
The door to the observation deck was open a tiny crack; Ally wondered why, since doors didn't do that, until she remembered that Cait was, after all, the chief engineer. "What's going on?" she mouthed.
Cait wrapped herself around Ally and murmured in her ear, barely audible even at close range, "Mommy and Daddy are fighting. Shh."
Ally listened and heard snatches of a conversation between, apparently, Captain Pike and Commander One. "It is not what I want," the captain said. "You know full well what I want."
"What you want," Number One said, "is-illogical. It's not the best move for either of us."
"You don't honestly think I should-"
"I do."
"Recruiting, One!" Ally heard a clang that sounded, inexplicably, like silverware against a china plate. "I'm supposed to be on the bridge of a starship."
"And you will be again, in three years, and it'll be the Enterprise."
Ally's head snapped around so fast that she almost bashed into Cait's chin. She raised her eyebrows as far as she could, and Cait whispered, "In a minute."
"One-" Captain Pike sighed so loudly that Ally could hear him clearly. "This wasn't exactly how the conversation was supposed to go."
"Chris, we agreed that-whatever this is between us, it wasn't going to affect work. And it's affecting work. I don't really think there's anything to say other than that."
Captain Pike said something inaudible, and One replied, "Yes, of course, but sometimes it isn't enough."
Before Ally realized she was hearing footsteps, Cait had whipped her around and swallowed the bottom half of her face, maneuvering them so they were on the opposite wall, by the door to Observation Deck A. Ally was bright enough to figure out what was going on, so she got one hand in Cait's auburn hair before Commander One left the other observation deck, and reached the other for her cheek.
She didn't see what actually happened, but the footsteps hesitated for perhaps one heartbeat before they strode on, confidently, to the turbolift. Cait kept Ally pinned there until the turbolift doors shut, and then released her lips to pant for a moment. "Act two," she said, kissing her again as Captain Pike came out of the observation deck.
"Get a room, you two," he said, a top note of amusement balanced over something much heavier.
Cait turned and Ally looked up, trying for innocence and probably failing.
The captain was smiling, but looked tired. "There's some of Yeoman Colt's famous lemon-berry cheesecake in there. We didn't make it to dessert." He gestured to Observation Deck B and then used the same hand to rub the back of his head. "Someone should enjoy it." He turned, not waiting for a response, and headed for the turbolift, disappearing behind the doors a moment later.
Ally looked at Cait, and said, "Do you think he's going after her?"
Cait shrugged. "I should probably go after her."
Ally frowned. "Give it about ten minutes, and then see if they're in the same room. If not, you can go then. If so, then it doesn't matter."
"Why ten minutes?"
"'Cause you owe me an explanation over cheesecake."
Cait hesitated, clearly torn, and then said, "You make a good point."
They entered the observation deck together and saw what looked like nothing so much as the ruins of a romantic dinner. A table with a real tablecloth sat by the window, with fake candles still flickering, the chairs pushed back and napkins bunched messily. Real china plates held the remains of a steak and a few sad broccoli stalks-obviously the captain's plate-and an orderly pile of asparagus ends next to exactly half a pat of butter. Both glasses contained the dregs of red wine, and the aforementioned cheesecake slices sat untouched on smaller plates. Ally grabbed Pike's plate and scrubbed the fork on the napkin before diving in, and Cait did the same with the XO's slice.
"So," Ally said, a couple of blissful mouthfuls later. "'Mommy and Daddy are fighting'? What would Number One say if she knew you called her that?"
"Who says she's Mommy?" Cait said, and Ally snorted. "So, yeah, you were my plausible deniability. Sorry about that. At least you got cheesecake out of the deal."
"Yeah," Ally said, and took another forkful. "And I didn't even have to sell my soul. So, Pike's gonna get the Enterprise?"
"They offered it to him, if he pays a tithe of three years of recruiting, on and off-world. He may have teaching duties as well."
"Ahh," she said. "Three years? Is he going to do it?"
Cait waved her fork in the air. "We don't know yet, but if that man has an ounce of sense in his head, he will."
"Fair enough," Ally said. "So, um-is Number One going to get the Yorktown?"
"Unknown, but hopefully."
"Damn," Ally breathed.
Cait gave her a look. "You still think she hates you?"
Ally shrugged. "I think the entire command staff-present company excepted-hates me."
"If that were true, why would Pike give you his cheesecake?"
"Good point, but still."
"No one hates you."
"Commander One hates me, I'm pretty sure," Ally said, using her finger to wipe the raspberry sauce off the plate. "Captain Pike only knows who I am in relation to you, and I'm not sure he's all that comfortable with it. Dr. Boyce thinks I'm incompetent. Nurse Lrrr thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Spock thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Tyler called me something horrible in Spanish the other day. CPO Garrison thinks I'm stupid, in addition to incompetent. You like me, but I give good head." She shrugged, sucking on her finger to get the last of the sauce.
"You do give good head," Cait allowed. Her eyes dropped to watch Ally's mouth on her finger.
"Besides," Ally said, "this conversation isn't about me. It's about Pike and Number One and the Enterprise."
"I don't know anything I haven't told you," Cait said. "Look, you know why they think you're incompetent."
"Because I am incompetent," Ally said, sighing.
"You're a lab rat trying to be an EMT," Cait said. "Of course you're not at your best. If you'd only tell someone, or let me, your life might be a little easier."
"No," Ally said, as she had a hundred times over the last four years, meaning both Don't tell anyone and Stop bugging me about it.
"Out of curiosity, what did Tyler call you?" Cait asked, blatantly changing the subject.
Ally shrugged. "He said something unkind about my mother."
"What did you do?"
She shrugged again, but flushed. "I walked into the turbolift to go back to my quarters and someone apparently hadn't learned how to jam the doors yet."
Cait laughed. "You walked in on him and Ensign Waldorf? Is there anyone on this ship you haven't seen naked?"
"I've never seen Spock naked, thank God," Ally said. "I don't think I'd survive." She shook her fork at Cait. "I still haven't forgiven you for seeing my boss naked, by the way."
Cait laughed again. "But he strips so pretty!"
Ally shuddered, and finished the last bite of the cheesecake. "He's so not my type, and now he alternately glares at me and ignores me."
"Still?" Ally nodded, and Cait sighed. "Look, I'll talk to him."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Cait, you'll just make it worse. Don't worry about it. It's only been a few weeks. He'll forget."
Cait looked dubious, but she nodded. Looking up, she obviously remembered, and said, "Computer, locate Commander One."
"Commander One is in Captain Pike's quarters," the computer replied, in the bland tones that had always sounded a bit like Number One herself to Ally.
"Oh, good," Cait said. She took another bite of cheesecake-her last-and closed her eyes. "I love 'em dearly but I don't know that I love 'em more than this cheesecake." She opened her eyes.
Ally knew that look. She thought about it for a moment-you know, why not?-and said, "Race you back to your quarters?
Cait grinned. "Sure."
* * *
Afterwards, Ally had buried her head in Cait's shoulder and was sliding towards a light doze as Cait said, "You should talk to Phil."
That jolted her awake. Normally if she said 'no' once in a day, Cait would leave it alone. "I said no."
"Are you afraid of him? He's really nice, you know."
Ally tried to think of her stubborn, taciturn CMO as 'nice' and failed. "I'm not afraid of him," she said, rolling to her other side.
"He probably drinks too much," Cait said as if Ally hadn't said anything, "but he really just wants everyone to stay alive. And good God is he thorough."
This conversation, especially while naked, was just too surreal. "Cait," she said with a groan. "I'm pretty sure this is not normal pillow talk."
"Do we ever have normal pillow talk?"
"I guess not," she admitted, and rolled back to bite Cait's collarbone.
* * *
A week later, Cait caught her leaving the mess. "Come with me," she ordered, and Ally shrugged and followed her to her room. "There's another way," Cait said, once the door closed.
Ally frowned. "Another way for what?"
"I was talking with Number One about something completely unrelated, and she happened to drop that every time someone schedules a meeting with Pike, he makes a point of rereading their entire personnel file, even if it's, like, Phil."
"What does this . . . Oh." She frowned again. "But what on earth would I use as my reason for wanting to meet with him in the first place?"
"Oh, well, you'd be calling the meeting because you want to discuss if there's any possible way that you can be part of the group that will be transferring to the Enterprise after he gets it. And if he's already read your file, he'll know that you're cross-qualified-overqualified-to do something other than be a medic." Cait sat on her bunk and patted the spot next to her.
I'm not a cat, Ally thought, but went to sit next to her anyway. "Cait, I-" She sighed. "You know what? You're right; that might work. I'd feel like I'm being disrespectful to Dr. Boyce, though. As much as I think he thinks I'm an idiot, he's been a fair boss and has given me accurate performance reviews. I don't want him to think that I'm so desperate to get out of his department."
Cait twisted her lips. "I didn't think of that," she said. "It's perfectly legitimate for you to ask to meet with the captain, though. Pike's got a standing offer to the entire crew for a meeting at any time, to discuss anything."
Ally shuddered. "No thank you."
"You're afraid of Pike, too?"
Yes. "No," she said. "Not afraid. Just-wary."
Cait smiled. "I promise, he's not so bad, either. Just sarcastic."
Ally tried to return the smile. "Sure. Look, Cait, I gotta go-I promised Statler I'd meet him in about fifteen minutes. Catch you later?"
"Of course. Think about it, okay?" Cait leaned over to kiss her, warm and affectionate, and Ally was able to muster a real smile before leaving.
* * *
"Jarvis, Clov is allergic to diphenhydramine!" Dr. Boyce's voice got louder until he was shouting by the end. "Get me-no, not you, Jarvis, you've done enough damage-Nurse Lrrr, get me ten ccs of hydrous fexofenadine, stat!"
Ally slipped out of the room in the melee that followed and went to check on the patients in single rooms. Fortunately, her skill in reading biobeds hadn't deserted her yet.
Oh, no, that wasn't until later, when she misread the results on a surgical patient and missed the early stages of infection, leading to more emergency surgery.
She fought back tears as she ran back to her quarters after it ended. Shit, shit, shit. She had to do something, and at that moment, she didn't care if Boyce was insulted, because frankly, her performance anxiety was obviously getting worse, not better.
Sitting at her console, she tapped out a quick message to Yeoman Colt, requesting a meeting with the captain, stared at the screen for a full ten minutes, and hit 'send' before she could change her mind.
* * *
Dr. Boyce informed her at the beginning of her next shift that he was declining giving her an official reprimand. She thanked him politely, gritted her teeth, and checked her padd as often as she could to see if Yeoman Colt had responded yet.
She didn't until nearly 1200; by then, Ally had chewed seven of her nails down to the quick and had had to wear gloves for the rest of her shift. Her meeting was scheduled for 0700 the next morning.
Ally didn't sleep much that night; she kept waking up every half-hour or so, and finally, at 0400, she sent Colt a message cancelling her appointment. After that, she managed to get a solid two hours of rest before waking up to make sure she wasn't supposed to be meeting with the captain.
She wasn't. There was a message on her padd acknowledging receipt of the cancellation. Good. And she was on beta shift that day, so she rolled over and went back to sleep.
* * *
"Jarvis, my office, five minutes," Dr. Boyce ordered, a few days later, and ducked back into his office without waiting for a reply. Ally looked at the chrono; her shift ended in five minutes. Great.
Precisely five minutes later, she touched her fingers to the annunciator outside of his office; the door slid open, and she stepped in.
Dr. Boyce was turned away from the door, fiddling with something. "Have a seat," he said, and Ally dropped into the chair, knees together, palms flat on her thighs. She had no idea why she was in here but it didn't look good.
He kept her waiting for probably another thirty seconds, and then turned around, a martini glass in either hand. Ally's jaw dropped, and then she closed it and swallowed. Dr. Boyce set the dirty martini with what looked like half a jar of olives on his desk, and handed her a second glass, perfectly clear, and a toothpick of olives on the side. "Cait," he said by way of explanation, and she nodded.
He sat down, and Ally nervously nibbled on one of the olives. "Let's start over," he said. "Phil Boyce, CMO, U.S.S. Yorktown."
"Allison Jarvis, Ensign, medic and EMT, U.S.S. Yorktown."
"And drinker of the world's driest vodka martinis."
Ally shrugged. "I think you've got more olives in that glass than alcohol. Sir."
He gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Antioxidants."
"Lemons are more traditional. Dr. Boyce, sir, I can't really believe you brought me in here to discuss our respective tastes in martinis."
He shrugged. "Seemed as good a place to start as any." He leaned back in his chair and fished out an olive with another toothpick. "You're not really an EMT."
Ally frowned. "I have my EMT certification from-"
"No, I know about that, and I know you worked shifts at both Starfleet Medical and San Francisco General while you were at the Academy."
"Then-"
"I also know that your four-year degree is in microbiology, with a specialty in mycology."
"That doesn't make me unqualified to be an EMT or medic." Not this discussion, not this discussion, not this discussion. Her hands started shaking, and she clenched the stem of the martini glass to make them stop.
It was Dr. Boyce's turn to frown. "I was given the impression that you'd rather be a researcher."
"Cait?" she asked. I'm going to kill her.
"No," he said. "Captain Pike told me to look in your personnel file. And then I asked Cait about it, and she told me. I also read your psych profile, and frankly, I'm surprised they let you into Starfleet."
Ally bit back her first response, which was a sarcastic Thanks, sir, and went with her second, a noncommittal "Oh?"
He tapped a finger on his padd. "Everyone seems to have agreed that your-issues-with high-pressure situations could be solved by putting you in more high-pressure situations. If your performance last week is any indication, then everyone was wrong." He sighed. "Your near-pathological fear of authority figures-don't think I hadn't noticed that, Ensign-is probably adding to the problem, because you won't even think about asking for help when you need it. You slipped through the cracks, and I'm sorry. How are we going to fix this, Jarvis?"
"I don't know, sir." It was frightening, how much he'd just said. She took a gulp of martini.
"I barely have enough emergency-trained medical staff as it is. I've put in for more nurses when we get back to Earth, but that's six months from now."
"Are you going to be staying with the ship, sir?" Ally asked, and then bit her tongue.
Dr. Boyce raised an eyebrow. "You know about that?"
"I've heard things."
He sat back in his chair again. "Well. Starfleet wants me to be surgeon general; did Cait tell you that?"
She shook her head. "No, sir. Congratulations, sir."
"I'll probably take it, but I'm going to make them wait."
This whole conversation was still unnerving her. Normally, she could count the number of words he said to her in a day on one hand, and they were all work related-but if it meant she wasn't getting discharged, well . . . "How long do you think you can make them wait, sir?"
"I'm hoping for a year. That should give Number One enough time to get settled in as captain, and, as a bonus-" He pinned her with an ice-blue glare. "-it'll give me enough time to figure out what I should do about you."
She blinked, frozen in place.
Dr. Boyce sighed again, and fished out another olive. "You're not afraid of Cait."
"No, sir," she said, "but . . ." There really wasn't a polite way to put it. We're fucking?
"Were you afraid of her before you and she were-more than friends?"
Ally frowned. "I don't really remember. She's never been my boss, though."
"Damnit, I knew I should have gotten that psych qualification," he said, mostly to himself. "I might be able to spare you for one shift out of every five or six."
"Sir?"
"To go work in a lab," he said.
"Oh," she said. Through the terror still hazing her mind, a thread of hope wove itself in. "Thank you, sir. If you can do that, it would be great."
"I'll contact Spock, see what I can do. In the meantime-don't make me regret this, Ensign."
In other words, stop with the stupid mistakes. Ally nodded vigorously.
"If you want, you can go now, or you can stay, finish the martini, and practice not being scared to death of me." Dr. Boyce gave her a half-smile, and she nodded again, mutely. She didn't move for about thirty seconds, and he said, "Either you're petrified or you've decided to stay."
"I'm not petrified, sir," she said. At least, not that much.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the matter. "So. Your thesis was on airborne spore degradation?"
"Yes," she said. "There should have been a copy attached to my personal file."
"I'd prefer you tell me about it," he said.
Of course. This was some sort of therapy, or bonding situation. Cait had probably promised him some sort of kinky sex thing-not that she even remotely wanted to think about that, because ew--in exchange for not being mean to her. "Well, um, I started with Stachybotrys kapiti, a variety of black mold, and the various air-filtration systems used in Starfleet."
He couldn't possibly be interested in black mold, but he listened patiently and asked intelligent questions in all the right places, and by the end of the conversation and her martini, she was-maybe-marginally less afraid of her boss. Maybe. At the very least, it was much easier for her to look at him and not think of what he looked like naked. Yuck.
* * *
A week or so later, a confirmation receipt came back for a meeting with Captain Pike, and Ally frowned at it in confusion. She sent a message to Yeoman Colt. I didn't request a meeting.
She got a prompt response. No. He did.
Oh. She couldn't exactly cancel that one, then. Damnit.
By the time the day of the meeting came around, she'd bitten all ten of her fingernails down to the quick and had painted them with several layers of liquid bandage in vain attempts to stop herself. Indeed, as she waited outside the captain's office, she gnawed at the side of one finger, just past the bandage. A moment later, her chrono beeped, and she touched the annunciator.
"Come," she heard, and stepped forward, hoping she didn't faint or throw up or both.
Captain Pike was sitting behind his desk, signing something on a padd. Huh, she thought irrelevantly. I hadn't realized he was left-handed. "I'll just be a moment, Ensign Jarvis," he said without looking up, and she nodded.
A second later, she said, "Yes, sir," aloud, realizing he probably hadn't seen her movement, but her voice came out as a squeak.
Captain Pike did look up at that, but he didn't smile. "Sit down, Ensign," he said, and she nodded and obeyed quickly.
His estimate was reasonably accurate; before she'd particularly had enough time to settle into the chair, he set aside the padd and said, "So, Ensign Jarvis. You scheduled a meeting with me two weeks ago, and canceled it."
"Yes, sir." Damnit, she was still squeaky. She cleared her throat unobtrusively.
"But you and Dr. Boyce spoke, correct? That's why I'm approving an order to cross-register you as both a medic and a researcher?"
"Yes, sir." Nope. Still squeaking.
Captain Pike sighed and toyed with his stylus. "Is there anything I can do, Ensign, that would set you more at ease?"
Ally blinked. "Probably not, sir," she said.
"I didn't think so." He sighed again. "Why did you ask for the meeting two weeks ago?"
"I don't remember, sir," she said, which was a lie, but hopefully he couldn't tell.
His eyes narrowed, and her hopes were dashed. "Pardon my language, Jarvis, but bullshit."
"Sir?"
"I could order you to tell me."
"You could," she said. It was only an acknowledgment.
"I'd rather not," he said. "So I'll guess. I know you had a bad day that week. Perhaps you were going to ask me if you could transfer out of Medical?"
"Not exactly, sir."
"Well, you and Phil seem to have come to some sort of agreement, so even if so, you don't seem to want to transfer anymore."
"No, sir." This conversation was like pulling teeth, and it was entirely her fault. He'd probably let her go earlier if she just said something . . . "Sir, I-" She gritted her teeth, swallowed forcibly, and tried again. "I don't think it's escaped your notice that I've been an ensign for five years?"
"Your evaluations have never been high enough to qualify for promotion, Jarvis," he said, voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.
"I know," she said, "and I'm hoping perhaps the partial transfer to Sciences will help. But-" This was difficult. Very difficult. "I understand that the ship is going to be undergoing a change of command."
"I hope you enjoyed the cheesecake, Ensign Jarvis," Captain Pike said, his tone a warning.
"It's-but." She stopped. "It was amazing cheesecake." She paused again. "I understand I'm not an amazingly competent medic-all right, I'm just barely above 'useless' on Dr. Boyce's scale-and I have never, ever used my, er, friendship with Lieutenant Commander Barry to affect my professional life in any way but I'm also well aware of the fact that Commander One has, um, an exceptionally low opinion of me and I don't know that perhaps it would be better for me to transfer?" Also, I would sell my soul to be on the Enterprise.
"Hm," Pike said, tapping his fingers on the table. "Well, I know Number One would never allow her personal feelings to influence her work, or vice versa, so no, you probably don't need to transfer, and with your fear of practically anyone with a higher rank than yours, I would expect you would actually be more likely to achieve the scores necessary for promotion by staying here."
It wasn't just anyone with a higher rank; she was actually terrified of Yeoman Colt but not a handful of the lieutenants, but she didn't tell him that. She nodded.
"However, based on your somewhat disjointed commentary," he said, looking less annoyed than amused, "I'm guessing this is you trying to ask me what you will need to do in the next three years such that I'd take you in a transfer to the Enterprise."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Damn, he was good.
"I'll take that as confirmation," he said, almost smiling. "Make lieutenant, definitely. Don't do anything too stupid. And-" He pinned her with a glare, surprisingly similar to Dr. Boyce's. "Get Number One to write you a letter of recommendation. It's not a guarantee-I may already have too many mycologists on staff--"
Ally pressed her lips together. Starfleet ran high to astrophysicists, botanists, and medical professionals, not mold experts.
"-but I will give you a more-than-fair chance."
"Thank you, sir," she said. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Jarvis. Now, I think I've scared you enough, right?"
Ally nodded and escaped.
Part IIa | Master Post
Part I: Late 2254
Ensign Allison Jarvis was just about to step into the sonic shower when her comm vibrated on the sink where she'd set it. She thought about not answering it, but it could be a medical emergency . . . She flipped it open.
>Get to Observation Deck B now!< The message was from-who else-Lieutenant Commander Caitlin Barry, her occasional, er, something or other. Fuck buddy? Probably. But she'd sent it from her personal frequency, not from one of the ship frequencies, so it was definitely a booty call and not a real emergency.
Ally sent back, >Can it wait?<
>No. Now. Trust me when I say it'll be worth your while.<
True. Time spent with-or under, beside, behind, above, whatever-Cait was always worth it.
Ally sighed, pulled her uniform back on, skinned her blonde hair back into a bun, and sent a quick >I'm coming< before heading out and towards the observation decks. When the turbolift opened, she saw Cait, her backside facing Observation Deck A, her ear pressed to the door of Observation Deck B. Before she could speak, Cait turned and gestured for her to be quiet, and to come up to her.
The door to the observation deck was open a tiny crack; Ally wondered why, since doors didn't do that, until she remembered that Cait was, after all, the chief engineer. "What's going on?" she mouthed.
Cait wrapped herself around Ally and murmured in her ear, barely audible even at close range, "Mommy and Daddy are fighting. Shh."
Ally listened and heard snatches of a conversation between, apparently, Captain Pike and Commander One. "It is not what I want," the captain said. "You know full well what I want."
"What you want," Number One said, "is-illogical. It's not the best move for either of us."
"You don't honestly think I should-"
"I do."
"Recruiting, One!" Ally heard a clang that sounded, inexplicably, like silverware against a china plate. "I'm supposed to be on the bridge of a starship."
"And you will be again, in three years, and it'll be the Enterprise."
Ally's head snapped around so fast that she almost bashed into Cait's chin. She raised her eyebrows as far as she could, and Cait whispered, "In a minute."
"One-" Captain Pike sighed so loudly that Ally could hear him clearly. "This wasn't exactly how the conversation was supposed to go."
"Chris, we agreed that-whatever this is between us, it wasn't going to affect work. And it's affecting work. I don't really think there's anything to say other than that."
Captain Pike said something inaudible, and One replied, "Yes, of course, but sometimes it isn't enough."
Before Ally realized she was hearing footsteps, Cait had whipped her around and swallowed the bottom half of her face, maneuvering them so they were on the opposite wall, by the door to Observation Deck A. Ally was bright enough to figure out what was going on, so she got one hand in Cait's auburn hair before Commander One left the other observation deck, and reached the other for her cheek.
She didn't see what actually happened, but the footsteps hesitated for perhaps one heartbeat before they strode on, confidently, to the turbolift. Cait kept Ally pinned there until the turbolift doors shut, and then released her lips to pant for a moment. "Act two," she said, kissing her again as Captain Pike came out of the observation deck.
"Get a room, you two," he said, a top note of amusement balanced over something much heavier.
Cait turned and Ally looked up, trying for innocence and probably failing.
The captain was smiling, but looked tired. "There's some of Yeoman Colt's famous lemon-berry cheesecake in there. We didn't make it to dessert." He gestured to Observation Deck B and then used the same hand to rub the back of his head. "Someone should enjoy it." He turned, not waiting for a response, and headed for the turbolift, disappearing behind the doors a moment later.
Ally looked at Cait, and said, "Do you think he's going after her?"
Cait shrugged. "I should probably go after her."
Ally frowned. "Give it about ten minutes, and then see if they're in the same room. If not, you can go then. If so, then it doesn't matter."
"Why ten minutes?"
"'Cause you owe me an explanation over cheesecake."
Cait hesitated, clearly torn, and then said, "You make a good point."
They entered the observation deck together and saw what looked like nothing so much as the ruins of a romantic dinner. A table with a real tablecloth sat by the window, with fake candles still flickering, the chairs pushed back and napkins bunched messily. Real china plates held the remains of a steak and a few sad broccoli stalks-obviously the captain's plate-and an orderly pile of asparagus ends next to exactly half a pat of butter. Both glasses contained the dregs of red wine, and the aforementioned cheesecake slices sat untouched on smaller plates. Ally grabbed Pike's plate and scrubbed the fork on the napkin before diving in, and Cait did the same with the XO's slice.
"So," Ally said, a couple of blissful mouthfuls later. "'Mommy and Daddy are fighting'? What would Number One say if she knew you called her that?"
"Who says she's Mommy?" Cait said, and Ally snorted. "So, yeah, you were my plausible deniability. Sorry about that. At least you got cheesecake out of the deal."
"Yeah," Ally said, and took another forkful. "And I didn't even have to sell my soul. So, Pike's gonna get the Enterprise?"
"They offered it to him, if he pays a tithe of three years of recruiting, on and off-world. He may have teaching duties as well."
"Ahh," she said. "Three years? Is he going to do it?"
Cait waved her fork in the air. "We don't know yet, but if that man has an ounce of sense in his head, he will."
"Fair enough," Ally said. "So, um-is Number One going to get the Yorktown?"
"Unknown, but hopefully."
"Damn," Ally breathed.
Cait gave her a look. "You still think she hates you?"
Ally shrugged. "I think the entire command staff-present company excepted-hates me."
"If that were true, why would Pike give you his cheesecake?"
"Good point, but still."
"No one hates you."
"Commander One hates me, I'm pretty sure," Ally said, using her finger to wipe the raspberry sauce off the plate. "Captain Pike only knows who I am in relation to you, and I'm not sure he's all that comfortable with it. Dr. Boyce thinks I'm incompetent. Nurse Lrrr thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Spock thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Tyler called me something horrible in Spanish the other day. CPO Garrison thinks I'm stupid, in addition to incompetent. You like me, but I give good head." She shrugged, sucking on her finger to get the last of the sauce.
"You do give good head," Cait allowed. Her eyes dropped to watch Ally's mouth on her finger.
"Besides," Ally said, "this conversation isn't about me. It's about Pike and Number One and the Enterprise."
"I don't know anything I haven't told you," Cait said. "Look, you know why they think you're incompetent."
"Because I am incompetent," Ally said, sighing.
"You're a lab rat trying to be an EMT," Cait said. "Of course you're not at your best. If you'd only tell someone, or let me, your life might be a little easier."
"No," Ally said, as she had a hundred times over the last four years, meaning both Don't tell anyone and Stop bugging me about it.
"Out of curiosity, what did Tyler call you?" Cait asked, blatantly changing the subject.
Ally shrugged. "He said something unkind about my mother."
"What did you do?"
She shrugged again, but flushed. "I walked into the turbolift to go back to my quarters and someone apparently hadn't learned how to jam the doors yet."
Cait laughed. "You walked in on him and Ensign Waldorf? Is there anyone on this ship you haven't seen naked?"
"I've never seen Spock naked, thank God," Ally said. "I don't think I'd survive." She shook her fork at Cait. "I still haven't forgiven you for seeing my boss naked, by the way."
Cait laughed again. "But he strips so pretty!"
Ally shuddered, and finished the last bite of the cheesecake. "He's so not my type, and now he alternately glares at me and ignores me."
"Still?" Ally nodded, and Cait sighed. "Look, I'll talk to him."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Cait, you'll just make it worse. Don't worry about it. It's only been a few weeks. He'll forget."
Cait looked dubious, but she nodded. Looking up, she obviously remembered, and said, "Computer, locate Commander One."
"Commander One is in Captain Pike's quarters," the computer replied, in the bland tones that had always sounded a bit like Number One herself to Ally.
"Oh, good," Cait said. She took another bite of cheesecake-her last-and closed her eyes. "I love 'em dearly but I don't know that I love 'em more than this cheesecake." She opened her eyes.
Ally knew that look. She thought about it for a moment-you know, why not?-and said, "Race you back to your quarters?
Cait grinned. "Sure."
* * *
Afterwards, Ally had buried her head in Cait's shoulder and was sliding towards a light doze as Cait said, "You should talk to Phil."
That jolted her awake. Normally if she said 'no' once in a day, Cait would leave it alone. "I said no."
"Are you afraid of him? He's really nice, you know."
Ally tried to think of her stubborn, taciturn CMO as 'nice' and failed. "I'm not afraid of him," she said, rolling to her other side.
"He probably drinks too much," Cait said as if Ally hadn't said anything, "but he really just wants everyone to stay alive. And good God is he thorough."
This conversation, especially while naked, was just too surreal. "Cait," she said with a groan. "I'm pretty sure this is not normal pillow talk."
"Do we ever have normal pillow talk?"
"I guess not," she admitted, and rolled back to bite Cait's collarbone.
* * *
A week later, Cait caught her leaving the mess. "Come with me," she ordered, and Ally shrugged and followed her to her room. "There's another way," Cait said, once the door closed.
Ally frowned. "Another way for what?"
"I was talking with Number One about something completely unrelated, and she happened to drop that every time someone schedules a meeting with Pike, he makes a point of rereading their entire personnel file, even if it's, like, Phil."
"What does this . . . Oh." She frowned again. "But what on earth would I use as my reason for wanting to meet with him in the first place?"
"Oh, well, you'd be calling the meeting because you want to discuss if there's any possible way that you can be part of the group that will be transferring to the Enterprise after he gets it. And if he's already read your file, he'll know that you're cross-qualified-overqualified-to do something other than be a medic." Cait sat on her bunk and patted the spot next to her.
I'm not a cat, Ally thought, but went to sit next to her anyway. "Cait, I-" She sighed. "You know what? You're right; that might work. I'd feel like I'm being disrespectful to Dr. Boyce, though. As much as I think he thinks I'm an idiot, he's been a fair boss and has given me accurate performance reviews. I don't want him to think that I'm so desperate to get out of his department."
Cait twisted her lips. "I didn't think of that," she said. "It's perfectly legitimate for you to ask to meet with the captain, though. Pike's got a standing offer to the entire crew for a meeting at any time, to discuss anything."
Ally shuddered. "No thank you."
"You're afraid of Pike, too?"
Yes. "No," she said. "Not afraid. Just-wary."
Cait smiled. "I promise, he's not so bad, either. Just sarcastic."
Ally tried to return the smile. "Sure. Look, Cait, I gotta go-I promised Statler I'd meet him in about fifteen minutes. Catch you later?"
"Of course. Think about it, okay?" Cait leaned over to kiss her, warm and affectionate, and Ally was able to muster a real smile before leaving.
* * *
"Jarvis, Clov is allergic to diphenhydramine!" Dr. Boyce's voice got louder until he was shouting by the end. "Get me-no, not you, Jarvis, you've done enough damage-Nurse Lrrr, get me ten ccs of hydrous fexofenadine, stat!"
Ally slipped out of the room in the melee that followed and went to check on the patients in single rooms. Fortunately, her skill in reading biobeds hadn't deserted her yet.
Oh, no, that wasn't until later, when she misread the results on a surgical patient and missed the early stages of infection, leading to more emergency surgery.
She fought back tears as she ran back to her quarters after it ended. Shit, shit, shit. She had to do something, and at that moment, she didn't care if Boyce was insulted, because frankly, her performance anxiety was obviously getting worse, not better.
Sitting at her console, she tapped out a quick message to Yeoman Colt, requesting a meeting with the captain, stared at the screen for a full ten minutes, and hit 'send' before she could change her mind.
* * *
Dr. Boyce informed her at the beginning of her next shift that he was declining giving her an official reprimand. She thanked him politely, gritted her teeth, and checked her padd as often as she could to see if Yeoman Colt had responded yet.
She didn't until nearly 1200; by then, Ally had chewed seven of her nails down to the quick and had had to wear gloves for the rest of her shift. Her meeting was scheduled for 0700 the next morning.
Ally didn't sleep much that night; she kept waking up every half-hour or so, and finally, at 0400, she sent Colt a message cancelling her appointment. After that, she managed to get a solid two hours of rest before waking up to make sure she wasn't supposed to be meeting with the captain.
She wasn't. There was a message on her padd acknowledging receipt of the cancellation. Good. And she was on beta shift that day, so she rolled over and went back to sleep.
* * *
"Jarvis, my office, five minutes," Dr. Boyce ordered, a few days later, and ducked back into his office without waiting for a reply. Ally looked at the chrono; her shift ended in five minutes. Great.
Precisely five minutes later, she touched her fingers to the annunciator outside of his office; the door slid open, and she stepped in.
Dr. Boyce was turned away from the door, fiddling with something. "Have a seat," he said, and Ally dropped into the chair, knees together, palms flat on her thighs. She had no idea why she was in here but it didn't look good.
He kept her waiting for probably another thirty seconds, and then turned around, a martini glass in either hand. Ally's jaw dropped, and then she closed it and swallowed. Dr. Boyce set the dirty martini with what looked like half a jar of olives on his desk, and handed her a second glass, perfectly clear, and a toothpick of olives on the side. "Cait," he said by way of explanation, and she nodded.
He sat down, and Ally nervously nibbled on one of the olives. "Let's start over," he said. "Phil Boyce, CMO, U.S.S. Yorktown."
"Allison Jarvis, Ensign, medic and EMT, U.S.S. Yorktown."
"And drinker of the world's driest vodka martinis."
Ally shrugged. "I think you've got more olives in that glass than alcohol. Sir."
He gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Antioxidants."
"Lemons are more traditional. Dr. Boyce, sir, I can't really believe you brought me in here to discuss our respective tastes in martinis."
He shrugged. "Seemed as good a place to start as any." He leaned back in his chair and fished out an olive with another toothpick. "You're not really an EMT."
Ally frowned. "I have my EMT certification from-"
"No, I know about that, and I know you worked shifts at both Starfleet Medical and San Francisco General while you were at the Academy."
"Then-"
"I also know that your four-year degree is in microbiology, with a specialty in mycology."
"That doesn't make me unqualified to be an EMT or medic." Not this discussion, not this discussion, not this discussion. Her hands started shaking, and she clenched the stem of the martini glass to make them stop.
It was Dr. Boyce's turn to frown. "I was given the impression that you'd rather be a researcher."
"Cait?" she asked. I'm going to kill her.
"No," he said. "Captain Pike told me to look in your personnel file. And then I asked Cait about it, and she told me. I also read your psych profile, and frankly, I'm surprised they let you into Starfleet."
Ally bit back her first response, which was a sarcastic Thanks, sir, and went with her second, a noncommittal "Oh?"
He tapped a finger on his padd. "Everyone seems to have agreed that your-issues-with high-pressure situations could be solved by putting you in more high-pressure situations. If your performance last week is any indication, then everyone was wrong." He sighed. "Your near-pathological fear of authority figures-don't think I hadn't noticed that, Ensign-is probably adding to the problem, because you won't even think about asking for help when you need it. You slipped through the cracks, and I'm sorry. How are we going to fix this, Jarvis?"
"I don't know, sir." It was frightening, how much he'd just said. She took a gulp of martini.
"I barely have enough emergency-trained medical staff as it is. I've put in for more nurses when we get back to Earth, but that's six months from now."
"Are you going to be staying with the ship, sir?" Ally asked, and then bit her tongue.
Dr. Boyce raised an eyebrow. "You know about that?"
"I've heard things."
He sat back in his chair again. "Well. Starfleet wants me to be surgeon general; did Cait tell you that?"
She shook her head. "No, sir. Congratulations, sir."
"I'll probably take it, but I'm going to make them wait."
This whole conversation was still unnerving her. Normally, she could count the number of words he said to her in a day on one hand, and they were all work related-but if it meant she wasn't getting discharged, well . . . "How long do you think you can make them wait, sir?"
"I'm hoping for a year. That should give Number One enough time to get settled in as captain, and, as a bonus-" He pinned her with an ice-blue glare. "-it'll give me enough time to figure out what I should do about you."
She blinked, frozen in place.
Dr. Boyce sighed again, and fished out another olive. "You're not afraid of Cait."
"No, sir," she said, "but . . ." There really wasn't a polite way to put it. We're fucking?
"Were you afraid of her before you and she were-more than friends?"
Ally frowned. "I don't really remember. She's never been my boss, though."
"Damnit, I knew I should have gotten that psych qualification," he said, mostly to himself. "I might be able to spare you for one shift out of every five or six."
"Sir?"
"To go work in a lab," he said.
"Oh," she said. Through the terror still hazing her mind, a thread of hope wove itself in. "Thank you, sir. If you can do that, it would be great."
"I'll contact Spock, see what I can do. In the meantime-don't make me regret this, Ensign."
In other words, stop with the stupid mistakes. Ally nodded vigorously.
"If you want, you can go now, or you can stay, finish the martini, and practice not being scared to death of me." Dr. Boyce gave her a half-smile, and she nodded again, mutely. She didn't move for about thirty seconds, and he said, "Either you're petrified or you've decided to stay."
"I'm not petrified, sir," she said. At least, not that much.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the matter. "So. Your thesis was on airborne spore degradation?"
"Yes," she said. "There should have been a copy attached to my personal file."
"I'd prefer you tell me about it," he said.
Of course. This was some sort of therapy, or bonding situation. Cait had probably promised him some sort of kinky sex thing-not that she even remotely wanted to think about that, because ew--in exchange for not being mean to her. "Well, um, I started with Stachybotrys kapiti, a variety of black mold, and the various air-filtration systems used in Starfleet."
He couldn't possibly be interested in black mold, but he listened patiently and asked intelligent questions in all the right places, and by the end of the conversation and her martini, she was-maybe-marginally less afraid of her boss. Maybe. At the very least, it was much easier for her to look at him and not think of what he looked like naked. Yuck.
* * *
A week or so later, a confirmation receipt came back for a meeting with Captain Pike, and Ally frowned at it in confusion. She sent a message to Yeoman Colt. I didn't request a meeting.
She got a prompt response. No. He did.
Oh. She couldn't exactly cancel that one, then. Damnit.
By the time the day of the meeting came around, she'd bitten all ten of her fingernails down to the quick and had painted them with several layers of liquid bandage in vain attempts to stop herself. Indeed, as she waited outside the captain's office, she gnawed at the side of one finger, just past the bandage. A moment later, her chrono beeped, and she touched the annunciator.
"Come," she heard, and stepped forward, hoping she didn't faint or throw up or both.
Captain Pike was sitting behind his desk, signing something on a padd. Huh, she thought irrelevantly. I hadn't realized he was left-handed. "I'll just be a moment, Ensign Jarvis," he said without looking up, and she nodded.
A second later, she said, "Yes, sir," aloud, realizing he probably hadn't seen her movement, but her voice came out as a squeak.
Captain Pike did look up at that, but he didn't smile. "Sit down, Ensign," he said, and she nodded and obeyed quickly.
His estimate was reasonably accurate; before she'd particularly had enough time to settle into the chair, he set aside the padd and said, "So, Ensign Jarvis. You scheduled a meeting with me two weeks ago, and canceled it."
"Yes, sir." Damnit, she was still squeaky. She cleared her throat unobtrusively.
"But you and Dr. Boyce spoke, correct? That's why I'm approving an order to cross-register you as both a medic and a researcher?"
"Yes, sir." Nope. Still squeaking.
Captain Pike sighed and toyed with his stylus. "Is there anything I can do, Ensign, that would set you more at ease?"
Ally blinked. "Probably not, sir," she said.
"I didn't think so." He sighed again. "Why did you ask for the meeting two weeks ago?"
"I don't remember, sir," she said, which was a lie, but hopefully he couldn't tell.
His eyes narrowed, and her hopes were dashed. "Pardon my language, Jarvis, but bullshit."
"Sir?"
"I could order you to tell me."
"You could," she said. It was only an acknowledgment.
"I'd rather not," he said. "So I'll guess. I know you had a bad day that week. Perhaps you were going to ask me if you could transfer out of Medical?"
"Not exactly, sir."
"Well, you and Phil seem to have come to some sort of agreement, so even if so, you don't seem to want to transfer anymore."
"No, sir." This conversation was like pulling teeth, and it was entirely her fault. He'd probably let her go earlier if she just said something . . . "Sir, I-" She gritted her teeth, swallowed forcibly, and tried again. "I don't think it's escaped your notice that I've been an ensign for five years?"
"Your evaluations have never been high enough to qualify for promotion, Jarvis," he said, voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.
"I know," she said, "and I'm hoping perhaps the partial transfer to Sciences will help. But-" This was difficult. Very difficult. "I understand that the ship is going to be undergoing a change of command."
"I hope you enjoyed the cheesecake, Ensign Jarvis," Captain Pike said, his tone a warning.
"It's-but." She stopped. "It was amazing cheesecake." She paused again. "I understand I'm not an amazingly competent medic-all right, I'm just barely above 'useless' on Dr. Boyce's scale-and I have never, ever used my, er, friendship with Lieutenant Commander Barry to affect my professional life in any way but I'm also well aware of the fact that Commander One has, um, an exceptionally low opinion of me and I don't know that perhaps it would be better for me to transfer?" Also, I would sell my soul to be on the Enterprise.
"Hm," Pike said, tapping his fingers on the table. "Well, I know Number One would never allow her personal feelings to influence her work, or vice versa, so no, you probably don't need to transfer, and with your fear of practically anyone with a higher rank than yours, I would expect you would actually be more likely to achieve the scores necessary for promotion by staying here."
It wasn't just anyone with a higher rank; she was actually terrified of Yeoman Colt but not a handful of the lieutenants, but she didn't tell him that. She nodded.
"However, based on your somewhat disjointed commentary," he said, looking less annoyed than amused, "I'm guessing this is you trying to ask me what you will need to do in the next three years such that I'd take you in a transfer to the Enterprise."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Damn, he was good.
"I'll take that as confirmation," he said, almost smiling. "Make lieutenant, definitely. Don't do anything too stupid. And-" He pinned her with a glare, surprisingly similar to Dr. Boyce's. "Get Number One to write you a letter of recommendation. It's not a guarantee-I may already have too many mycologists on staff--"
Ally pressed her lips together. Starfleet ran high to astrophysicists, botanists, and medical professionals, not mold experts.
"-but I will give you a more-than-fair chance."
"Thank you, sir," she said. "Thank you so much."
"You're welcome, Jarvis. Now, I think I've scared you enough, right?"
Ally nodded and escaped.
Part IIa | Master Post