Yealousy?!
Posted on Mon Nov 15th, 2010 @ 12:07pm by Lieutenant Commander Dylan Blake & Lieutenant Commander T'kaarch & Petty Officer 3rd Class Sehra Vahn
Edited on on Sun Dec 29th, 2013 @ 12:41am
1,912 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Structured Shoreleave - Marchwiel
Location: Planet's surface
Timeline: Long Backpost before the trip to the surface
Finally, finally, FINALLY T'kaarch was excused of his duties. The captain couldn't have taken a worse time to give him disciplinary orders, as 2 days later they got stranded on a beautiful planets. Or so T'kaarch heard, as all he saw was a holodeck and Ensigns blowing up shuttles by running them into the Ranger - virtually, obviously, but it was quite frustrating he couldn't just grab the helm himself and show them how it's done.
As he stepped on the transporter plate, he checked what he had on him. A hawaii shirt, which was a strange combination with his fur, and some fitting short pants. Other then that a package which he knew included lunch and blood ale. T'kaarch was going on a picnic.
As the transporter got activated, T'kaarch first thought it went wrong, and he was transported to heaven. As his eyes adjusted, he saw he was in a canyon, with a beach and sea not far off. Behind him the Ranger stood proudly. He decided to head towards the beach and find a nice, sunny place to set his lunch up.
The beach however, much to his dismay wasn't deserted as he had hoped. Bathing the suns embrace, feinting sleep stretched Lieutenant Blake dressed only some eye watering bright swimming trunks.
He cracked an eye open having heard muffled footsteps hoping Sehra would join him. Instead he felt his body quake with laughter at the sight of T'kaarch's furry limbs protruding from beneath his clothing.
"Lieutenant." T'kaarch nodded to the fur-less creature. In cold areas he had always been proud of his fur, but right now it was a bit of a handful. Though it also meant he never got burnt. As the small beach didn't have much open space, he continued: "Mind if I sit herrre? This lunch isn't going to eat itself..."
"Wherever you like," Dylan replied closing his eyes against the sun rays.
T'kaarch put his package down and unwrapped it, setting up his lunch and blood ale. "Mmm." he nodded as he grabbed one of the sandwiches.
Even over the soothing sound of waves breaking against the shoreline and of the soft munching sounds both men heard the distinctive sounds of an empty stomach growing from Lieutenant Blake.
Oddly the lieutenant hadn't been hungry up until this point. Attempting to ignore the rumblings he rolled over, feeling the rough grains of sand clinging onto his sweating skin.
T'kaarch noticed the rumbling. "Lieutenant, would you like a sandwich?"
Before he could reply, there was a muffled chirp from the puddle of fabric that was Dylan's discarded shirt. After a few seconds past without intervention, a second chirp sounded.
The first sound had been lost into the sound of the waves and to T'kaarch innocent question. However the second metalic chripping registered with Blake's ears. He streched, showering his clothes with sand to locate the comm pin half dreading the Captain to scold him. Instead the voice made him smile.
[[I'm told, Lieutenant,]] sounded the amused tones of the Ranger's morale officer, [[That you managed to secure yourself a little free time.]] Even across the restrictive communication channel, Sehra's amusement was easily transmitted. [[I bribed your deputy into telling me where you disappeared to and I'm on my way if you want to hide your entourage of admirers beneath a rock.]]
"Oh," Blake mouthed feeling suddenly cautious with T'kaarch sitting close by and Sehra arriving shortly fireworks could ensue.
Hastily he rolled back to face T'kaarch with a grimace: "I guess you heard that?"
T'kaarch was enjoying his lunch. And nothing stops T'kaarch from enjoying his lunch. Still, a strange sensation tingled within him which he couldn't quite place. "Maybe she wants a sandwich too?" His demeanor was still his innocence, but deep within him something was bubbling.
"Maybe..." Dylan offered a strained smile sitting up right feeling a silence draw out between them both. "Look," he began, tugging at the shirt in his hands. "For what its worth: I'm sorry. I never planned anything to happen between Sehra and I... things just took their own course."
"It's ok, as long as she's happy." T'kaarch realised what he said was an act, that wasn't how he felt. However, how he did feel and why he felt it he didn't understand.
Blake didn't need to be a counselor or psychic to tell that T'kaarch wasn't telling the truth. All the same Dylan was surprised by the calmness the catlain expressed. If the situation was revered he knew he, himself wouldn't be so gracious.
"I try to make her so."
In the corner of his eye, T'kaarch noticed Sehra coming from the ship. Uncharacteristicly, he ignored it and took a big bite from his sandwich. All of a sudden eating with Lieutenant Blake didn't seem like the best of ideas, but running away now would be awkward as well... He decided to let it play out, maybe he could order these feelings out with Sehra. Though he didn't want to be near Sehra. It was confusing.
Blake too, had seen Sehra's tiny figure round the sloping corners of the canyon toward the beach. He didn't want to the afternoon to break into an augment. So, hoping to avoid trouble Dylan threw the sand filled shirt back over his bare chest and stood. His normal wide gait was hindered by the soft sand that his naked feet sank into, and with each stride he grimaced. The suns light had heated the sand, making it feel as if it was burning his feet. Quickly he hoppled onto the rocky outcrop and dusted his feet down beside his neglected shoes.
"Hello, sugar," he said as Sehra came closer.
"Sugar?"
Having no idea that Dylan had managed to engage the one person she had admittedly been avoiding for most of the morning, Sehra's face was relaxed and her expression mischievously playful as she clambered over several awkward rocks, a larged striped bag flung over her shoulder whilst one hand gripped the picnic basket she was occasionally using to steady herself. Already dressed for the beach, the sarong tied around her waist was a rich peacock blue, a nice match for the purples and emeralds of her two-piece bathing suit, something the database had called a 'bikini' though the Betazoid had been surprised by just how little material had been used. Back home, most beaches were clothing-optional and it seemed somehow entirely human to design an item of clothing that left you as-good-as naked but not quite. The broad-brimmed hat on her head had a certain character, as did the overly large sunglasses she'd replicated. Grinning from beneath the protective rim, Sehra then allowed the glasses to slip down her nose as she peered over them and added, "Has someone had too much sun already?"
Blake stared with a somewhat blank expression at Sehra's choice of attire. Her question caught him surpsied. "Oh, umm...I was going to find some shade" he glanced toward T'kaarch with caution.
"Hey Sehrrra." T'kaarch intently kept looking at his sandwich, a torrent of half-suppressed, half not even aware feelings.
As much as she tried to mask it several seconds later, Sehra's face, (beneath the large glasses), fell as her gaze drifted in the direction of the familiar voice and came to rest on the bowed head of the man she no longer was sure she could call a friend. It wasn't that she was displeased to see him, more that it was the last place she'd expected him to be and, in her confusion, she shot Dylan a look that he couldn't possibly see behind the dark lenses and then tried to calm her frantic thoughts. Why were they here together? Not that there was anything wrong with it, only....was there something wrong with it? Caught off-guard, it took Sehra a moment to extend her telepathic sense enough to realise that there wasn't any hostility in the air so much as tension and general unease. At least it didn't seem as if they'd been arguing but she still swallowed deeply before willing herself to smile. "Hey T'kaarch, enjoying the sunshine?" It was a stupid, meaningless, pointless thing to say but it was all her mind would give her to work with.
"Oh yes, I'm fine, thank you." While in any normal situation the words would be considered sarcasm, T'kaarch posessed no such fine social skills. Even so, the words weren't true, couldn't be true as T'kaarch couldn't explain his feelings to begin with.
"Right..." Dylan muttered stretching out his hand to relieve Sehra of her basket. "Here, let me take that for you."
"Hmmn?" Distracted by her nervousness, Sehra switched her gaze to Dylan and stared blankly at him for a moment before realising what he meant. "Oh! Sure, here," she replied, handing him the basket as she clambered over the last of the small rocks. "It's nothing much, just enough to eradicate the need for replicators for at least a few hours. I completely understand that this situation isn't ideal and I'll be as pleased as the next person when we finally get airborne again, but what are the odds of being stranded next to something like this?" Grinning with a little too much exhuberance, a sure sign of her clammering heartrate, Sehra placed her hands on her hips and declared, "It sure makes my job easy anyway."
"Quite," Dylan offered a one word answer still feeling uncomfortable with T'kaarch close at hand.
T'kaarch had finished his sandwich. And for some reason, he was unhappy, even angry, with the two love-birds being all lovey-dovey with each other. He silently packed up his blood ale, and stood up. "I'm sorrrry, I should be getting back to worrrk." He had absolutely no idea what he was going to do, but staying here was out of the question.
Blake winced, "Alright, catch you later T'kaarch..." he glanced quickly between Sehra and the feline before quickly adding: "It was nice to bump into you..."
Normally, Sehra would have been the first to rush in and mend the social situation, filling in any awkward silences and providing enough conversation of her own that the other participants wound up relaxing just enough to contribute, even if only the occasional murmur. It was her strength, it was what she was good at, but the skill failed her now as she watched her friend walk away with a head full of emotions she couldn't decipher either. The Caitian was confused and, because he was lost within his own thoughts and feelings, Sehra couldn't reach him, not without intruding on a level she simply wouldn't breach without permission. Sadly, she watched the scientist distance himself and then murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "Bye T'kaarch." She vehemently hoped there wasn't permanency in those words though she honestly wasn't sure anymore.
Then, as sudden as he walked away, T'kaarch turned around. "Sehrrra... Let's talk. Sometime, not now." He was looking down to the sand while saying it, but his mind was made up. "I want to understand these feelings."
Blake bit his bottom lip with akwardness, This was all his fault.
OFF:
A very late post by:
Lieutenant JG T'kaarch
Assistant Chief Science officer
USS Ranger
Petty Officer 3rd class Sehra Vahn (PNPC McAdams)
Counselor
USS Ranger
and
Lieutenant Dylan Blake
Chief Operations Officer
USS Ranger
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