Chapter Text
A large red X blinked on the three-dimension control panel. Following it the computer’s voice announced, “Subspace channel collapsed. Hailing frequencies scrambled and dropped. Resetting the program. Begin again.”
“Damn,” Aalin said.
Entering the simulation lab as the computer spoke, Chris called from the doorway, “Not going well?”
“That is a charitable description,” Aalin replied with a sigh as she pulled the wireless communication bud from her ear.
Chris crossed the room and since they were alone kissed her cheek. “The shortwave higher subspace frequencies are tricky, especially when factoring in the vast distances involved for sending to and receiving from a starship. Subspace communications are as much art as science. Proficiency with the basics is the only requirement. No one expects you to become a specialist.” He then added for encouragement, “Practice helps.”
“Maybe,” she said quietly. “I hope so.”
He held out a thermos and sat in a nearby chair. “I brought tea. Take a break.”
That elicited a smile. “Thanks. Slow day?”
“With the preliminary security and medical surveys complete, the science teams are now working on the surface. Little on the ship or the planet requires my attention,” he answered. “I’ve been thinking …”
“Chris … what if I can’t learn this?” she asked in an unsure tone of voice.
He placed his thermos of coffee on the table and gave her his complete focus.
She shook her head slightly. “I’m not worried about the academic classes, but what about the physical training?” Aalin waved her hand at the control panel. “The required onboard systems? I’m a linguist and never had to fly a ship or transmit more than a basic close-range message. If I can’t pass the exams, my temporary commission won’t become permanent …” her voice drifted off. “I don’t want to be apart from you.”
“You won’t be.” Chris reached for her hand and clasped it. “I’m confident you will master the required skills and more. So are your other instructors.”
Aalin groaned, “I should have known you’d get report cards with my grades.”
With a dimpled smile he replied, “I am the Captain.”
“A fact you point out when convenient for you,” she countered in a dry tone.
He chuckled. “Yeah. If you tire of living and working in space, if you don’t pass, we’ll build a new life on Earth.”
“That’s not fair, you spent years preparing for Starfleet and earning your position. I’d never ask you to make that sacrifice.”
He raised an eyebrow. “This is a marriage, a partnership. Being parted from you would be the sacrifice. Besides, I could raise horses …”
Aalin thought as she reached over and placed a hand on his cheek, Now and then my unsentimental seldom romantic husband hits the bull’s eye. It’s usually stealthy, plopped in the middle of a casual conversation … and it’s always genuine. She said, “I love you.” Chris sighed almost imperceptivity. Silently they relished the intimacy.
The public address system announced a drill ending the moment.
“How is it possible you manage to work horses into nearly every conversation,” Aalin said. “When you first encountered the Klingons did you inquire about their equine species?”
“Klingons have specially bred sargs much like the medieval destrier war horses …” he started.
“I’m sorry I asked,” she murmured.
He continued without pause, “of course sargs are taller and can bear more weight than even a destrier as Klingon armor is extensive and heavier …”
“Chris?”
“… and sargs are put through an extensive training programing which includes fighting techniques, it starts when the colt is six months old …”
“Professor.”
“… the warriors control their mount with knees and voice commands, no reins are used …”
Well at least this time it’s not pillow talk, Aalin thought. “Christopher!”
“What? Oh.” He grinned, “Anyway, no one is going to let you fly this ship.”
“Seriously, you mean despite my ‘putting out,’ I don’t get to helm Enterprise? I expected that was one of the perks of sleeping with the Captain,” she teased back.
“I was thinking,” Chris said returning to the other reason he stopped by. “We’ve been married two months yet never had a proper date.”
“Isn’t that irrelevant now? And it’s OK, I get dates are not easy for the ship’s commander, it’s like having over four hundred metaphorical parents, siblings, cousins, friends, and curious bystanders looking over your shoulder and critiquing your every move."
Chris tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. “That’s a disturbing image. And not at all what I meant. Since the ship and crew consume most of my time, we should make it a priority as a couple to have date nights. A regular schedule is unlikely, like Friday nights, but …”
Tuning out, Aalin indulged the image forming in her mind – candlelight dinner, soft music, a very slow and intimate dance, Chris whispering endearments in her ear as their bodies sway, the soft kisses he places on her temple, neck, and …
“By the expression on your face I see you agree.” He stood. “Excellent. I’ll make all the arrangements. Meet me in our quarters at 4:00pm.” After another chaste kiss, he departs.
ooooo
“Sorry I’m late, there was a glitch with the universal translator update,” Aalin apologized as she entered their quarters and came to an abrupt halt in the living room. Chris, seated at the table and dressed in form-fitting black crew shirt and pants, was sorting through equipment as he stowed it in a backpack. She thought, That’s an odd outfit for a romantic dinner. After appreciating how the clothes hugged his toned body she amended, or not …
“No worries,” he answered.
Aalin continued, “I know it’s early, but I’m famished.”
Chris tossed her an energy bar and said, “Your gear’s on the bed.”
What? Rather than question, she walked into their bedroom. Laid out on the bed was a similar outfit in her size. On the floor sat a pair of light and flexible shoes. OK, never figured straight arrow Chris as the role-playing type, but then we have a lot to learn about each other. Trusting him implicitly and eager for the earlier imagined slow intimate dance, she changed into the sports bra, shirt, and leggings. Knowing he preferred her hair down, Aalin freed it from the ponytail band.
Looking up from his task when she reentered the living room, Chris flashed a brilliant smile. “The gear’s all packed.
Gear? For a date? Curiouser and Curiouser.
“But …” He pointed to an armchair. “Sit.” Disappearing into the bathroom he returned with a brush and hair band. “For safety your hair should be up. I’ll do it.”
Safety? “Ah Chris, exactly what do you have in mind?”
Standing behind the chair he kissed the top of her head and began brushing her hair, carefully unsnarling the tangles. “A favorite activity. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you and we won’t try anything past what a beginner is ready for, what you feel comfortable with. If the conditions are right, we can keep going well into the night.”
Well, Chris does have impressive stamina. The sensual feeling of a lover caressing her hair lulled Aalin away from further inquiries. Too soon, he laid the brush aside, braided the locks, and wrapped and pinned the braid into a tight bun.
“Where did you learn to French-braid?” Aalin, still savoring the pampering, asked in a dreamy tone. “You don’t have sisters …” She suddenly sat up. “Oh … no … do not tell me your proficiency comes from braiding your horses’ manes and tails.” She added emphatically, “Do. Not.”
Chris shrugged. “Okay. I won’t. And you need a safe word.”
“Huh?”
Seeing her shoe was unlaced he went down on one knee and tied it which distracted Aalin from his explanation. “You know a way to let me know if you are injured or need help or if things get too rough or if I go too fast. Use it anytime you are uncomfortable and want to stop. One that’s simple but not common in everyday conversation.” Chris grinned mischievously. “We’ll use canter.” He picked up the backpack and gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To the transporter room. I thought we’d spend the evening planet side in the fresh air.”
Visions of candlelight, a blanket spread on the sand with casually tossed pillows, a table by the water under a gauzy canopy fluttering in the breeze, a moonlit walk by and in gentle waves filled Aalin’s thoughts. She stretched up standing on her toes, ran her hands up his chest, and kissed him lips moving slowly, the contact lingering. Wrong outfit for it though, maybe he packed bathing suits …
Fifteen minutes later, after a brief hike, Aalin stood staring at the cliff face. “Rock climbing?” she asked for the third time.
“Yeah.” Chris added, “The view from the summit is amazing.”
“And we didn’t simply transport to the top because?”
“Getting there is the fun part,” Chris promised as he attached a safety line to his belt and then hers. “It’s a novice ascent and should only take three or four hours.”
“You are taking me rock climbing for a date and still believe there will be sex for you at the end of the evening. You truly are an optimist. It’s a good thing for you I’ve already married you.”