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Together Again

Posted on Wed May 19th, 2010 @ 6:16am by Lieutenant Thomas Jenkins

Mission: Wolf In The Fold. Season 2, Episode 1

The Anubis’ observation lounge had been a welcome retreat from the questions of the crew that she had enlisted to help her build something up from the very base to be a beacon of light in the darkness. and during her sifting of the information and data PADD's that had been left for her to work her way through she had come across something which made her brighten and also feel a deep sense of trepidation.

With that very data module in hand, and a slight flutter to her heart and her emotions, she now came to a standstill in front of a pair of doors that had more behind them than her dispute with her son. In fact what lay behind the doors was nothing more than a few years older than her son, hence the trepidation.

Slowly she extended a trembling finger until gently it pressed the chime and then came the wait, one that felt as if it lasted more than a decade to end with the sliding doors.


Anubis' Chief Tactical Officer's Quarters



Having finished his log and asked the Computer for the Admiral's location so that he could report in, Thomas waited for its response as he headed for the doors, trying to zip up the stubborn jacket he'd undone while recording the log. 'Damn new uniforms,' he cursed to himself. He was still comically bitter that his only true possessions, the broken-in uniforms he'd loved so much, were destroyed on Starbase 611.

"Vice Admiral Beverly Devuor is on Deck 3, Corridor B." The computer replied, as he approached the doors.

In the seconds it took his brain to put two and two together, the chime rang and the motion sensor-operated doors swung open. As the chime registered in his ears, Tom stopped and looked up from the zipper he was still fumbling, a slightly shocked look on his face.

"..Beverly!" He stammered, as his brain caught up to what had just happened.

".....Tom!"
She was taken aback by his lean body that could still be made out from underneath the trim uniform that hugged the muscles of his chest. Then there was that boyish face, the chiselled jaw and crystal blue eyes that she had found more than just appealing.
This would be the first time she had spoken to him since the discussion following their argument on the promenade of 611, but that was before she had left for her new post on Earth within the fleet Science Department. Now that she was faced with him she was lost for words. Joyed at his presence here and terrified at what she may do and say in the same token. One thought kept coming back to her. 'He is only seven years older than Stewart!'

"Come in, come in!" Tom blurted out, running entirely on impulse, not having had the time to mentally prepare for seeing Beverly again. Without realizing it he placed a hand on her lower back and led her through the door almost hurriedly; a habit he'd picked up on 611 during their more 'discreet' meetings.

"Believe it or not I was just on my way to report in," he admitted. As the doors closed behind them, he threw caution to the wind. Spinning Beverly around to face him he blurted out "you look amazing," despite the comment being completely unrelated and incredibly unprofessional.

Mentally, Tom wanted to blame the synthohol, but he knew that it wouldn't have affected his judgment. He knew that it had been weeks, maybe even months since he and Beverly had spoken. She'd left on assignment while he was still in intensive care, recuperating from what should have been a fatal attack he sustained from the Gorn while protecting Beverly at Cestus. They'd not spoken since, about the incident - or the relationship between them. Perhaps, subconsciously, he was taking a step back to his old, impulsive self and living in the moment. Whatever the case.. Beverly really did look fantastic.

He was standing so close, the scent of his aftershave enticing her to move in closer, to savour the warmth of his body against hers, but the call of judgment and reason pulled her back, and with a slight movement she took a single step back wards.
"Lieutenant... I... I... erm...", her words eluding her as the realization came to her that she had no idea what she had intended to say.

"Can I get you something to drink?" He asked, nonchalantly, leaving the stunned woman standing in the middle of the room while he headed for the replicator.

All she could muster was an almost childlike shaking of her head, each and every emotion she had felt for Tom swelling like a turbulent ocean within her. Primal instinct was telling her to move closer and revel in the ecstasy of his strong arms and masculine body while the reason was telling her that he was only several years older than her own son. It was a madness that threatened to consume her but she remained still and unmoving, staring at him.

"Repeat last order," Tom spoke into the replicator. "And add a bottle of synthetic Bajoran wine," he added, ignoring Beverly's head shaking. Ordering 'synthetic' alcohol all the time was a pain in the ass - and nowhere near as fun, but when you were on duty that was the way it went.

Taking the bottles of synthahol and the empty wine glass in his hands, he turned and made his way back to Beverly - who hadn't moved the entire time. "You're awfully quiet," he pointed out while he handed her the glass, doing his best to remain professional. Trying, anyway. The wine choice was clearly a throw-back to one of their more drunken encounters.

She accepted the glass and waited for him to pour a glass full of the rose colored liquid that she had always enjoyed and once he had finished and removed the flute of the bottle away she lifted the glass and downed the contents in one long drought before once again looking at him directly.
"I don't know what to say now that I'm here!"

Thomas looked up, pondering. "Conversation starters, conversation starters.." He mumbled to himself, leading Beverly to the barely broken-in couch in the empty quarters.

"How about 'hey Tom! Glad to see you with all your guts back in your chest!'" He smiled, hoping she took it jokingly as he'd intended. "Or maybe 'Congrats on that promotion! Starfleet must be really desperate.'" He added, jokingly. "Or.." He threw out a third option without giving her a chance to reply. "I missed you," he finished with a softer tone, looking her in the eye as he spoke. The serious third option was more of a statement than an option for consideration.

The light attitude suited him more than the angry young man he had been when she had first met him. Piloting that runabout through the battle with the small Borg Ship with such talent and venom that she was almost concerned about his mental state. Now was a different story. He was settled, content and one of the most valuable officers she had been able to serve with.
"I'm glad your injuries have healed.... And I have missed you!"
Her own voice softened to near a whisper as she placed a small hand on his chest without realizing it.

Setting his drink down on the coffee table, Tom gently pulled Beverly closer and wrapped his arms around her. He held onto her silently for a moment before speaking, not yet releasing her. "When I came around after the surgeries, Doctor Ulonova told me that you'd been reassigned but that you were fine." He sighed. "I understood, but I feel so much better seeing you for myself."

For the briefest of moments she allowed the comforting feeling of being in his arms again to swell around her, to fill her with a fleeting feeling of contentment, but only fleetingly.
"I... I can't do this!", tears had started to run silently down her cheeks. Each one carrying a flux of emotions, each one fighting within her for dominance. "I can't do this!", she repeated gently pushing herself free of his strong arms. She felt like a dead weight as she pulled herself to a standing posture infront of the sofa, still each tear mirroring the oceanic storm of feelings she was fighting.

"I can't do this... My son... He's seven years younger than you... I could be your mother... He's getting his commission... He's been assigned here, to this station...".
With each phrase the emotions started to overwhelm her, bubble to the surface and break her defenses. "He hates me!"

Caught off guard, Tom rose off the couch as she did, setting his drink down on the table as he got up. He did his best to place a hand on each of her shoulders and urge her to sit back down, but with her sudden outburst it was a challenge. It hurt that he'd been pushed away, but it wasn't necessarily a shock given how long it'd been since they were together. Through the lack of communication it was obvious now that she'd needed someone to talk to and that she was suffering - and that hurt the most; a pain he shared. Not only had he lost a lover when she'd been reassigned, but he'd lost a close friend - maybe the only one he had.

"Beverly, please.. Sit back down?" He pleaded. "I won’t tear your clothes off, I promise," he tried to keep things light, but was worried it was too late. He only hoped she didn't go running out the door - this new assignment was supposed to be a new start, but he couldn't change who he was; if she ran he WOULD chase her, and chasing his CO down the corridor probably wasn't the best way to start Day 1.

"I can't fight myself... I can't!"
She turned on her heel and with a speed the was precise and direct moved with a singular purpose towards the door, still trying to stop the tears.

"Computer!" Tom spoke in a calm voice, anticipating Beverly's reaction. As she moved away he spoke quickly, blurting out the mean but hopefully effective alternative he’d come up with seconds earlier. "Lockdown quarters, Security Chief Jenkins, Alpha-Four-Delta." She might hate him for it at first, and as a Vice Admiral she could easily override the locked doors, but he only needed a moment. "Beverly.." He called out.

With the ferocity of a caged animal she wheeled around on him, her eyes speaking of murder. "What the hell are you playing at?", the emotions of the last moments still plain as text on her features.

"I'll leave." Tom threw his arms up in the air, surrendering. He moved towards the door, but stopped beyond arms reach of Beverly, doing his best to keep his distance. "If nothing else," he sighed at the thought of being nothing more, "I'm your friend. And at the very bottom line, you're my commanding officer. You don't deserve to be forced to run through the corridors in tears for all to see." He wanted to desperately to step forward and wipe the tears from her face, but he resisted.

Caught flat footed by the uncharacteristic display of understanding her words caught in her mouth. This was another thing that she had loved about him, his ability to understand and do exactly the right thing when needed.
"Thank you...", her words under more control than before. "That won't be necessary".
She still could not bring herself to voice how she felt, but a sneaking suspicion told her that he was already clued in and it was her position that now held her back.

Waving off her last comment, he made his way past her to the door, his eyes to the floor. "I'm due back on the bridge anyway." He pointed out, manipulating logic to get his way - not that it was what he really wanted, but it was best. "So you either take a minute here, or you're walking with me to the turbolift. It's your call." It was more of a rhetorical offer, but he thought he’d take a shot.

Silently nodding her head, confirming her desire to remain were she was, if only so she could compose herself yet the position that both ere now in could and most likely would cause them all problems in the future in their dealings with one another. Of course it all came to self control... The question was this, would she be able to control herself in the future when in his presence.

Nodding, Tom punched the release codes into the control panel next to the door and stepped into the doorway before pausing and looking back to the woman in his quarters. "When you want to talk," he looked at the doors, and the quarters inside, "you know where to find me."

With a deep breath, he began to move into the corridor, pausing one last time as his impulses got the best of him. "And Beverly.." He called back through the doors that had yet to close, since he'd not moved far enough into the corridor. "I'm not your son." He said, bluntly. "And I don't hate you," he finished, emphasizing the "I." With that, he continued walking, the doors closing as he took his second step.

"What the hell are you playing at DeVuor!" came the whispered self chiding. Everything was swimming in front of her. All of her emotions, feelings and desires and all of them said the same thing. He was too young... But did that really matter?

Reaching the end of the corridor, Tom stood outside the turbolift and waited for its doors to open. When they did, he nodded politely to the ensign who exited before entering the now empty lift. As the doors closed he let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Bridge!!" He screamed, angrily, leaning against the wall and tapping the back of his head against it a few times. He'd done extraordinarily well at keeping his composure with Beverly, which was a good sign. Despite managing to not make a bad situation worse, he couldn't help but think it.. 'I need a drink.'

 

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