The Same Passion

Posted on Tue Apr 7th, 2009 @ 4:23am by

1,040 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Wolves in Sheep's Clothing
Location: Citadel Tower, Citadel Prime
Timeline: Current

Rowena Arkham smirked, leaning and resting on the balcony of the suite that the ruling body had given her for her comfort during the operation. She was still stiff and sore from the shooting and the operation early in the week, but it was tolerable -- Arkham had spent many years in pain, and this was no different from the throbbing ache that plagued her jaw. She probably shouldn't have been up and about as she was, but it was undeniable that she was extremely stubborn; she was more than able to hobble about with the use of a cane.

With the rest of the Archimedes team tied up and convinced that the senior officer was still in the hospital, it was clear just from looking at Arkham was working on something different from the Citadel Task Force. Instead of the red uniform typical of a Command officer, Arkham was instead clad in civilian clothing -- a white dress shirt under a solid black suit, the sort of formalwear more typical to a businessman than a career fleet officer. Unfortunately, Arkham had realized, her good uniform would need to be replaced relatively soon.

Sighing deeply, Arkham mourned all that had happened and all that was still to come. This was hardly the way things should have turned out. Puffing on her cigar mindfully, Arkham requested the song, "We Share the Same Passions," which quickly filled the room as the computer chirped in compliance.

"We Share the Same Passions" was an orchestral number from the soundtrack to the seventeenth James Bond film, "GoldenEye", a movie which had premired almost a thousand years before. While not a classic in the strictest sense of the word, Arkham had always loved the movies -- they were pure fantasy; and for an old intelligence officer like her, they were always fun to laugh it.

Things didn't work like that. The good guy never won, things were never so simple, and there were no beautiful women ready to throw themselves at you without the slightest provocation.

'Well,' Arkham thought, hearing familiar footsteps. 'I take that back.'

"Well, well," Harwood said quietly. Arkham turned her head to see the younger woman leaning in the doorframe, smiling softly at the older officer. "Isn't this the past come to life. It's been a long time, Rowena."

"Agent Harwood," Arkham said smoothly, smirking a little.

"I'm surprised that suit still fits you like a glove after all these years. Isn't this the one you bought in Italy, when we were staying in Florence?" Harwood said quietly, resting a hand on Arkham's shoulder, tracing her clavicle with two lithe fingers. "Nice to know you haven't gone soft. How're you feeling, imzadi?"

Arkham shrugged. "Well enough, Alex."

"Should you be...smoking while recovering from such a grievous injury, Agent Arkham?" Alex said quietly, drawing a little closer to the old officer and angling her head up, hinting at what she wanted from the agent.

"You only live once, my dear," Arkham said coldly, flicking ash onto the floor. "Eat right, exercise hard, die anyhow. If my choice is figuring all this out and risking my life or running out the clock with a walker, you know exactly what I'll choose, Agent Harwood."

Harwood smirked, planting a kiss on the old officer's cheek, lingering for a moment. "And I love that, Agent Arkham."

"No, you don't," Arkham said coldly. "You don't love me. You love the idea of me. Believe me, stick with that young medic of yours. You're far better off with her. Get out of this business, settle down, have that family Adrian wants .I'll be at your wedding--standing in the back in my dress whites, marveling at how beautiful you look in your wedding dress. We'll both wonder if it was a mistake; we'll dance once, and I'll make some excuse to leave. In three years time we might bump into each other on the street -- you'll be taking your infant child for a walk and you'll hardly recognize me because of how I've aged. It'll take me a moment to recall your name. We'll talk awkwardly for a few minutes. In five years, after I've retired or some such nonsense, I'll come to Paris and visit you, Adrian, your young child, and the second one you'll have in the oven, and you'll wonder what you ever saw in me."

"It's been ten years, Imzadi," Harwood said, running a hand across the Commander's ruined jaw. "And I still can't see myself with anyone other than you. I doubt another five years will change that, my Imzadi."

"I was your first," Arkham said quietly. "You romanticize me because of it. I'm not this shining hero you're so convinced I am...and soon my entire ship is going to know what I am."

Harwood sighed, shaking her head a little. "They were going to find out eventually. You can't shield them from the innate hypocrisy of humanity and the evils of politics forever."

"No," Arkham said finally. "I can't. But I can damned well try."

Taking in the music for the first time, Harwood smiled. "James Bond, again?"

Arkham smirked, "Of course. Might I...have this dance?"

Harwood allowed a slow and very coy smirk to cross her features as she allowed the Commander to pull her into a highly neat and steady waltz. Clearly, one could observe that the two were quite comfortable with this -- they'd been in this position many a time before, perhaps even enjoyed it.

"I best get this out of my system now then," Harwood said coolly. "Because Catherine would hardly approve."

Arkham smirked. "Do you still consider ballroom dancing to be a civil form of public exposition?"

Harwood laughed at this. "Of course, Rowena! What else could this possibly be?"

"In that case," Arkham said, smirking a little and spinning the young woman so that her back was pressed to Arkham's pelvis, one hand entwined with hers, and Arkham's other hand pressed against her abdomen, inching towards her chest. "We should be closer."

Harwood laughed. "I love it when you take the lead, Rowena."

"Indeed," Arkham said smoothly, puffing on her cigar. "Now, where did we leave off all those years ago?"

 

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