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The man in front of me who claims he’ll be my first officer pauses in the corridor. The amused look on his face bothers me somehow as he recites a quote. "In the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself lost in a dark wood…"
I know those words. They're so familiar. Why do they make me want to smile for some reason? And yet…
"…where the straight path had been lost."
Oh, God.
Justin. Justin read me those words. Justin gave me those words. How does this man…No. It's probably just a coincidence. Yes?
I look up at this handsome traitor in a Starfleet uniform and dare him to explain how he who claims to know my future now seems to also know of my past. "I didn't know Dante's Inferno was on the Maquis reading list," I prod.
He hesitates for just an instant. "Actually, I borrowed your copy."
What? Never. I'd never do that. I couldn't do it. Why would I lend anyone the one gift Justin gave me of himself when he proposed? I could never stop loving him enough to bear to…
"My fiancée gave me that book as an engagement gift," I retort. "I've never lent it to anyone."
He smiles, a devilishly handsome smile of self-satisfaction that threatens to take my breath away. "Not yet."
My mouth opens with nothing less than pure, unadulterated horror. I can't even speak. He's told me the truth so far, how does it serve him to lie about this? Which means—
I did. I will. I'll lend him that book. That piece of Justin I will willingly hand over to this man. From the man who died for Starfleet, to a man who abandoned it. How can I betray Justin like that?
As my lips tremble, he lowers his voice and speaks to me in a tone that's unexpectedly comforting. "I know it's hard for you to believe. Possibly harder to believe than anything else I've told you. But when you lent it to me, it wasn't because you'd forgotten Lieutenant Tighe, or because you were any less in love with him than you are right now. You only gave me that book to me when you stopped hating yourself for his death."
He speaks in the past tense and somehow I can tell he's not lying. He knows Justin's name, knows how I still cling to my feelings for him like a life preserver. But if he knows me, surely he must know that I'm never going to stop hating myself for the choice I failed to make? If it hasn't stopped hurting in a decade, surely it never will. I raise my chin defiantly at him.
"And I suppose you're the one who helps me get past my crippling guilt?"
He shakes his head and answers me matter-of-factly. "No. That's Justin."
Is he mad? What does he think, my first love is going to rise from the dead and tell me it wasn't my fault that I couldn't choose between him and my father?
"You're going to forgive yourself, Kathryn. I promise. Give yourself time." His voice is so soothing, like a gentle embrace that I feel inexplicably powerless to resist. It infuriates me.
"Why does it matter to you so much?" I snap. "You become my first officer. My personal life isn't the business of my XO."
There's something he wants to say, I can tell. But he doesn't. Moments tick by. I stare unblinking at his eyes. I'm fixated, unable to look at anything besides those deep, chestnut eyes. He holds my gaze without faltering. The air between us is electric. My fingers start to tingle.
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
He doesn't need to answer my question. My body's told me all I need to know: My personal life is very much going to become this man's business. Knots form in my stomach.
"Anyways, I agree with Dante," he continues, speaking with an unflappable calm that I can only envy. "If you always see the road ahead, it isn't worth the trip."
Though he looks nothing like either one of them, I can't help but be reminded of both Justin and Mark all at once. My future self gets swept off her feet, I imagine, and no wonder why. My will to fight him fades away like the morning fog evaporating off the ground. My desire to get to know him—now that warms me like the morning sun. So why am I shaking?
I smirk to remind him that I'm still the Captain. Or perhaps to remind myself. "A soldier and a philosopher," I point out, stepping ahead of him because I don't dare look at those eyes anymore. "Your intelligence file doesn't do you justice." He follows quickly, taking his place at my side.
Something tells me I'd better get used to that.