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The thing is, Allison’s had a thing for Lydia Martin for years. Even before Lydia was Starfleet’s golden child - competent, beautiful, lined up to become one of the youngest chief engineers seen in decades - Allison knew who she was, and knew she was going places.
So when they’re both assigned to the USS Beacon for its five year mission, it’s like a sign that Allison’s meant to finally act on her feelings except. She just...doesn’t know how. And being in space is exciting, and she’s working in tactical while Lydia’s running engineering, and it just stops being any sort of priority because hell, she’s got five years and the whole damn galaxy, and they’ll eventually work together, and then sparks will fly and that’s a bridge Allison can cross when she gets to it.
Two years into the mission, she’s pretty sure she’ll never get to it.
Not that it matters - she’s two years older now, she’s second in command in tactical, Captain Stilinski likes her, they’ve made several amazing discoveries, she watches movies with Scott and Kira and Boyd every Tuesday night, and things are just good.
Or at least, they’re good until things go horribly wrong on what was supposed to be a basic expedition and eighteen crewmembers are killed, including Allison’s superior officer. After that, it’s like a switch is flipped - too many people are promoted too fast, nobody is given enough time to mourn, and the entire mood on the ship is darkened. Public spaces are quiet, tensions are high between senior officers while everyone looks for someone to blame, and Allison can’t even enjoy all the time she gets to spend on the bridge now, because it doesn’t even feel like the same ship she’s loved since her first day on board. Hell, when she reports for duty a week and a half after the incident, she barely even notices Lydia on the bridge, arguing with the captain.
Whatever the argument’s about, it thankfully seems to be ending, though whatever the issue was doesn’t seem to have been resolved. Lydia just says, loudly, “I’ll deal with it myself. Whatever,” and then spins away from the captain, her ponytail nearly hitting him in the face as she does so.
She passes Allison on her way out and nods. “Lieutenant Argent.”
“Commander Martin,” Allison manages to reply, surprised she’s been acknowledged.
Her shift is otherwise uneventful, but the stars seem to shine a little brighter anyway.
Allison knocks on Scott’s door that night, since it’s a Tuesday and she’s pretty sure they’re still going to hang out, despite the tension aboard and Scott’s arm, which he’d fractured in four places during the incident. (She’s just glad he survived.)
The door swings open. “Allison!” Scott says, pulling her inside with his good arm. “Thank god you’re here, I need your help.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Sure, what with?”
“You know Ensign Lahey?”
“Isaac? Yeah, he was in security before he busted his knee, we worked together a bit.”
“Well, he’s doing some med training while he’s off security duty, and he was there last week helping with my arm, and he was at my followup today, and anyway, I think I’m in love with him.” Scott grimaces. “Not like, in-love-in-love, that’s ridiculous, but…” He trails off, smiling.
She shakes her head, trying not to laugh. She hasn’t seen Scott smitten since their academy days. “So what’s the plan, and where do I come in?”
Scott’s smile widens. “Apparently my mom is heavily encouraging the captain to give us all some shore leave, to rebuild crew morale and give us all a break after, well.” He lifts his bandaged arm, not that she needs the reminder of what happened.
Allison nods. “That sounds like a good call, yeah. What does this have to do with Isaac?”
“Well,” Scott says, “I may have invited him to join us for drunken shore hijinks?”
“And I’m…?”
“Going to hopefully make sure that I don’t make too big a fool of myself. And he implied he’d be bringing his friends, so maybe distract them a little?”
“You want me to be your wingwoman?”
Scott beams. “Exactly! Well, wingwomen, you and Kira, since I think she’ll be on board with it, and maybe Boyd and Erica too?”
Allison agrees right as someone knocks on the door and Scott jumps up.
“Hey!” Kira greets brightly with a wave when he opens the door. Scott immediately starts telling her about Isaac, and Allison smiles, glad to have something pleasant to focus on.
Three days they’re on shore leave, in a bar, Scott looking nervous and picking at the sleeves of his green sweater. Kira slides him another drink and pats him on the back. “Breathe, Scott. He’ll be here soon, okay?”
Allison nods and takes a sip of her second drink of the night, looking around in the bar. It’s nice, if small and a little bit dark. It reminds her of the bar she and Scott had frequented when they were cadets, though the air feels and smells just a little different on this planet.
Kira makes a noise and hits Scott on the arm. “That’s him, right?” she asks, gesturing at the bar’s window, and she’s right, though he’s not alone - he enters flanked by Mahealani from engineering and the captain’s kid, and behind them are the Hale siblings and -
Allison downs the rest of her drink in one gulp, because she didn’t realize that Isaac was friends with Lydia goddamn Martin, and she doesn’t feel prepared to face any of that tonight.
Kira notices the look on her face and mouths, “You okay?”
Allison nods, and that’s the end of it, because Isaac and his friends are walking up to their group.
“Scott! Hi!” Isaac sounds a little breathless, and the way he looks at Scott indicates that Scott’s feelings are probably reciprocated. Allison breathes a sigh of relief, because that means she won’t have to worry as much about keeping Isaac’s friends distracted, and can instead get pleasantly drunk and maybe dance or fuck a stranger and just relieve some of the stress from the last few weeks.
She heads toward the bar and gets another drink while Isaac’s friends settle in around their table. When she sits back down with it, conversation is a jumble of introductions, and she slides in next to Mahealani.
“Oh! Also!” Stilinski exclaims, interrupting Kira’s introduction. “Look what I managed to dig up.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of what looks like Romulan ale - and judging by Stilinski’s expression, that’s exactly what it is.
Scott beams at him. “I like you.” He turns to Isaac, who’s presseed against his side as a result of the eight of them being crammed into one booth. “You have cool friends,” he says softly. Isaac smiles up at him.
Stilinski, meanwhile, pulls the cover off the bottle and then takes a swig directly out of it, cringing as he swallows and slams the bottle back on the table. “Christ, that’s strong. Who’s next?”
Kira looks like she’s about to reach for the bottle, but Lydia beats her to it, and Allison is captivated by the motion of her throat as she swallows. Lydia seems to notice as she sets the bottle down, but doesn’t say anything - instead, she just slides the bottle over to Allison, who drinks.
As soon as she’s swallowed it, she feels it warming her from the inside out, making her feel like she’s had far more to drink than she has.
The bottle makes its way around the table a few more times, and by the time it’s empty, Allison’s pretty sure she’s never been drunker. (She’s also pretty sure Isaac has his entire tongue down Scott’s throat, but she’s honestly too drunk to focus on that.) She’s too distracted by the light reflecting on the table, and the background noise, and she’s just feels like she is one with the bar, like its walls are her ribcage and the noises are her heartbeat, and she loves everyone in it so much, and she -
Really needs to pee?
She announces that to the table, then stands, though the floor is totally slanted and that’s totally unfair, she’s going to...do something. Whatever. When she stumbles, Mahealani - no, Danny, because they’re friends, she loves Danny - props her back up, and then there’s someone else’s arm around her waist, and it’s Lydia fucking Martin leaning into her.
“I have to pee too,” Lydia announces, and it’s maybe the fourth thing Lydia’s ever said directly to Allison, who therefore thinks it’s fucking hilarious, and then she and Lydia are both laughing and stumbling toward the bathroom together, arms around each other, and Allison feels so warm and open and connected to everything, and she tries to tell Lydia that but she’s not sure if the words come out in the right order. But Lydia smiles at her anyway, and that’s what counts.
They manage to get themselves into the bathroom, and Allison misses the toilet a little bit but whatever, and she manages to get her underwear back up and her hands clean and she considers that a total success.
Lydia emerges from the other stall, pulling her dress back down as she exits. “That was a challenge,” she announces. “But I did it.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, and Allison’s never really seen her with her hair down, and it’s so pretty, and she wants to touch it.
“You can!” Lydia says, enthusiastic, and then Allison realizes she said that and she needs to backtrack ASAP probably but...might as well touch it while she has the chance, because it looks so soft but shiny and fancy hair products are so not allowed in Starfleet regulations but Lydia’s a genius so she’s probably figured something out and it probably smells great and - yep, it smells great.
“Are you,” Lydia slurs, “smelling my hair?”
“It’s nice!”
“You’re nice.” Lydia’s face is really close to Allison’s. Which makes sense, because Allison is touching her hair. Her very nice hair.
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re drunk,” Lydia counters, and then cracks up, and Allison can’t help but join her, and then they make their way back to their group’s table, and there’s really not enough room for all of them so Allison just pulls Lydia onto her lap, because they’re best friends now, it’s whatever.
“You’re the hottest best friend I’ve ever had,” Allison whispers to Lydia.
“I resent that!” Scott says from across the table. Isaac appears to be passed out on his lap.
Lydia wriggles in Allison’s lap a little, working her legs until they’re facing each other. “Damn right,” she says with a grin, and then she leans in and plants a big kiss on Allison’s cheek.
Allison laughs, and Lydia pouts. “I missed,” she announces, then leans in again and kisses Allison square on the mouth and that’s about the last thing Allison was expecting from tonight but she can roll with it.
“You know,” Allison says when Lydia pulls back after what feels like forever, “I’ve had a crush on you since...a long time.”
Lydia shoots her a small smile. “Your ass looks fantastic in regulation pants. Nobody’s ass looks fantastic in those. It’s just unfair.”
In response, Allison puts her hands on Lydia’s hips and pulls her in for more kissing.
Allison wakes up on the floor feeling like there are knives buried in her skull and no idea where she is, other than that it has a floor. She rolls over, groaning, and immediately vomits, which almost makes her feel better, except that she’s now facing a pile of her own vomit, and that serves to make her feel even worse. She turns away from it and looks up at the blinding lights of the room she’s in, then looks around and is mortified to realize she was somehow passed out on the bridge.
It makes her feel a little better to realize she’s not alone - the Stilinski kid is sprawled out over the captain’s chair, Kira’s on the floor with a leg thrown over the younger Hale, and Mahealani is in one of the chairs, head slumped over the controls in front of them.
Allison has no idea how any of them got there, and decides she’d rather not be found next to a pile of her own puke on the floor of the damn bridge, so she forces herself to stand up and make her way back to her quarters. Fortunately, the ship is all but deserted, so she doesn’t run into anyone on her way, and she collapses in her bed and drifts off again immediately.
She stays in bed for the whole day, because this is the worst hangover she’s ever had and there are another two days of shore leave, so she doesn’t really have to do anything. Or at least, not until late afternoon, when Scott bangs on her door, Kira in tow.
She lets him in, and he starts talking immediately, waving his PADD in the air, while he says something about how he can’t remember most of the night but he apparently has pictures and they’re going to piece together the evidence together.
So they do, all squeezing together on Allison’s bed so they can all look at the screen as Scott flips through them.
They start off normally enough, a few pictures of the group, some weird attempt at an artsy shot of the bar, several extreme closeups, and then the camera seems to have been forgotten for some time, making a reappearance a few hours later for some blurry pictures of Kira, Stilinski, and the younger Hale dancing on the bar, with what looks like Scott and Isaac making out int he corner. Then the camera seems to have been turned around, and there’s a goofy but adorable picture of Allison and Lydia with their flushed cheeks smooshed together, both grinning. The one after that, though, has them kissing, and for fuck’s sake, Allison kissed Lydia Martin and doesn’t fucking remember it.
Then there’s another time skip, this time with a location change - the next set of photos have them all on a beach, with the planet’s characteristic red sand and clear water, and everyone appears to be in various stages of undress, and then Scott hastily skips through several pictures of the group of them skinny dipping.
“Does skinny dipping violate the prime directive?” Kira asks.
“Does my dick count as advanced technology?” Scott replies. Allison laughs, and they keep flipping through photos of them at the beach, apparently with another bottle of Romulan ale, and then the location jumps to the bridge.
“Ooh, that one’s a video,” Kira points out, and Scott hits play.
Stilinski is in the captain’s chair with a penis drawn on his forehead, barking orders, while Scott stands behind him making weird noises.
“Commander Call!” Stiles slurs in the video.
“Ensign McCall,” Scott corrects him, then goes back to the noises.
“What the fuck ever. What are you doing?”
“Sound effects!” Scott exclaims, then starts making a series of beeps. “We’re under attack! Oh noooooooo!”
Very seriously, Stiles nods and then points off-camera. “Argent! Defend us!”
“Yes, Captain!” Allison’s voice calls from offscreen.
“Maheanali. Martin. Do fancy tech things and save us from the space monkeys.”
“Lydia went to bed, I think?” Danny replies.
“Then it’s up to you to save us, mighty nerd,” Stiles says, like it’s the most important thing in the world.
The video ends there, and there are no more photos.
“So,” Scott says. “Apparently that was our night.”
“At least you got it on with Lahey,” Kira points out.
“And at least you didn’t wake up on the bridge,” Allison adds.
“Wait, you guys did?” Scott asks. Kira nods. “Did the captain find you? Oh my god.”
“I came back here before anyone else woke up,” Allison tells him.
“The captain did find us, though, after you left. I woke up to him reaming Stiles out for disgracing the family name and violating his trust and throwing up on important equipment. I wish I’d filmed that. The rest of us managed to sneak away without too much in the way of consequences, thankfully.”
Scott and Allison laugh, and then there’s a pause before Scott says, “So. Allison. You and Lydia Martin, huh?”
Allison buries her face in his shoulder and groans. “We’re gonna pretend that never happened.”
Doctor McCall was right - the shore leave did hugely improve crew morale, and while the absences of the dead or injured crew members are still felt, the mood on the ship is much more positive when they get back to work. Allison is able to settle into her new role as tactical officer, and she just has to avoid eye contact with Lydia, because she doesn’t know how much the engineer remembers and she’d rather not deal with any lingering awkwardness, because she’s basically totally over her crush anyway. So she minimizes their interactions, even though some are necessary when they’re both on the bridge, but it’s fine.
She manages to keep avoiding Lydia for another two weeks, but it’s too convenient to last.
One Wednesday, she wakes up to a message from the captain, telling her to meet him in one of the conference rooms twenty minutes before her shift, and she groans but gets her uniform on and makes it there on time, and actually beats the captain to the room.
She’s leaning back in one of the chairs when the door opens a few minutes later, and she stands immediately, but it’s not the captain - it’s Lydia.
“Commander Martin,” Allison says, trying not to show her surprise.
“Allison,” Lydia replies.
“Are we on a first name basis now?”
“You’ve had your tongue down my throat, Allison - I think we can handle first names.”
“Oh, I, uh.” Allison blushes. “Do you know when the captain’s going to get here?”
Lydia laughs, taking a step closer to Allison. “Oh, the captain didn’t summon you here, I sent that.”
“Is...everything okay?”
“Could be better.” Lydia tilts her head and smiles.
“How so?”
“Well, a couple weeks ago, I got to kiss one of the hottest people on this entire ship while we were drunk, and she’s been avoiding me ever since. But, see, I don’t like being ignored, especially not when that’s something I’d like to have happen while we’re not drunk. Understand?” Lydia’s taken a few more steps forward while speaking, and now there’s barely any space between them, Allison pressed against the table trying to avoid contact. “I mean,” Lydia continues, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, obviously, I’m not going to force you into anything because I’m not a fucking asshole, but based on some things I faintly remember both of us saying, I got the impression you’d be amenable to it happening again.”
Allison doesn’t trust herself to speak, because this is so much more than she could have hoped for, and Lydia’s got her crowded against a table and so Allison just nods, and Lydia beams - like the fucking sun, Allison can’t handle how goddamn beautiful she is - and leans up to kiss her gently, then pulls back.
“Okay?” Lydia asks, looking up at Allison.
“Absolutely.” Allison leans down and kisses her again, harder this time, one hand going for Lydia’s waist and the other resting on the side of her face. Lydia smiles against Allison’s lips, then opens her mouth and wraps her arms around Allison’s neck, using them as leverage to pull herself up and wrap her legs around Allison’s waist in one smooth motion. Allison moves her hands to Lydia’s thighs, her nails digging into the soft flesh there.
She’s pretty sure having sex in this room would violate several regulations, but at the moment, she doesn’t really care, and judging by Lydia’s hand on her ass and enthusiastic moans, Lydia doesn’t really care either.
Allison hoists Lydia up further, then turns them around so Lydia can rest her ass on the table. She moves her mouth to Lydia’s neck, her hands sliding up under Lydia’s dress, fingers hooking in the waistband of her underwear. Lydia lifts her hips so Allison can pull them off.
And that’s when the door bangs open.
Allison spins around and feels herself blushing, Lydia’s underwear still in her hand. “Ensign Greenberg,” she says, trying to keep her composure.
The kid is even redder than she is as he stutters, “The captain is, uh? Looking for you? Your shifts already started. Um. Bye!” With that, he bolts, slamming the door behind him.
Allison looks at Lydia, who runs a hand through her hair and groans. “To be continued?”
“To be continued.”