Chapter Text
“It’s good to see you again, La’an.”
La’an had known it would come to this. All afternoon, her eyes had been drawn to him no matter where in the room he stood – tall and clad in bright yellow formal uniform so easily spotted among the browns, greys, and olives of the Urtulians – no matter who she was talking to. Half the time, she caught him looking at her, more and more noticeable as the time passed. He’d nod at first, later, he’d smile, then he’d just hold her gaze until La’an looked away.
“Lieutenant Commander Kirk,” La’an said, prepared, palms clasped behind her back, “congratulations on your promotion.”
“Quite a mouthful, isn’t it?” The wrinkles in the corners of Kirk’s eyes deepened.
Was that his way of telling her to use his name? La’an wasn’t sure she could. For the last four months, whenever she thought of him – maybe more often than she was supposed to, considering – she firmly called him Kirk. His first name was dangerous, tempting. It reminded her of more hopeful times. Times when she still dared to dream.
Kirk had crushed those dreams before they could really take roots, but, surprisingly, his rejection had helped her to move forward. Kirk wasn’t James. He never was and never would be. James was gone. Dead. She could think the word now. She’d be able to say it out loud, too, she thought.
“Thank you,” Kirk added.
La’an smiled softly, gripping the glass in her hand firmer. She could do this. She could act as if her confession never happened. “How do you find being a first officer?”
“It is… rewarding.” Kirk looked over her shoulder at the empty wall, as if looking for answers, before meeting her eyes again. “Being a senior officer has its perks. And disadvantages.” Kirk smiled, but it was hollow. “It’s not easy being younger than half of the crew.”
Connect to your truth. Una’s advice to Kirk emerged from the depth of La’an’s mind. “And it’s easier to keep your distance from them,” she said.
Kirk chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. “I forgot.”
“What?”
“How well you know me.”
La’an’s chest tightened. James was dead, but Kirk hadn’t forgotten. La’an knew him and, at the same time, didn’t. It’d be easier for both of them if they could ignore it and keep the door closed and locked.
Kirk cleared his throat. “Walk with me?”
“Commander…”
“You haven’t left this corner for an hour,” Kirk said, lowering his voice. “Come with me to get some fresh air.”
La’an was stunned; Kirk had paid attention. The air in the room was stale and hot. The treaty was signed three hours ago, but the Urtulians wanted to talk to and question the handful of Starfleet officers present. Questions La’an had been prepared for, and questions she hadn’t. She was tired. Staying in the corner had helped her from being questioned as often, but a change of scenery would be welcome. After all this time, the captain shouldn’t face any threats from the locals, and she could stop keeping an eye on him, but did she want to spend time alone with Kirk? She was fine talking to him. She was. And yet…
“If you’re worried about your captain,” Kirk said, and La’an looked back at him, “I can tell him later I made it into an order.” He smiled, a real smile this time, and a warmth spread through La’an’s chest.
This was a bad idea. She looked into her half-full glass. You still owe me that drink, Kirk’s words echoed in her mind. There had been no hidden meaning behind his invitation. She knew that now. Only polite friendliness. Nothing else. Perhaps, they could be friends. Perhaps, she could get to know him as a fellow officer, as a friend. Kirk didn’t seem opposed to it.
“You can tell me to get lost,” Kirk said. “I understand if you don’t…”
Keeping her distance from Kirk was the cleverer choice. La’an let out a sigh, hoping she wouldn’t regret it. “Let’s go.” She left the room, trusting Kirk to follow, and walked through the white halls – the Urtulians didn’t believe in decor, only function – and out into the garden. The cool breeze caressed her cheeks. La’an took a deep breath, the sweet smell of flowers and blooming trees unfamiliar, a bit uncomfortable. Where the interior and exterior of the buildings were bare and plain, the gardens of Urtul were ablaze with color and complicated patterns.
The sun was about to set.
Kirk stopped next to her. “I’ve been here for a week, negotiating the treaty, but I don’t remember the last time I watched a sunset,” he said. “Do you?”
This really was a bad idea. Why did she agree to go for a walk with him? What was she supposed to tell him? She didn’t want to lie to him.
Kirk seemed to sense her discomfort. “Was it… with me?”
“He… he wasn’t you,” La’an said, suddenly aware she was still holding the glass. She clasped it in both hands.
“No.”
That simple, short sound made La’an’s heart ache. Kirk watched her, his eyes so green. She bit her lower lip and looked away before she could start seeing something in his expression that definitely wasn’t there. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. It… never was.
Kirk belonged to another.
La’an took a sip of her drink – the bitter taste remaining on her tongue. Leaving would be the most logical choice. Staying meant she could get hurt again. She knew that. She did.
“How were the negotiations?” she asked anyway. Keeping it professional. Wanting to learn about a side of Kirk she hadn’t known of before. He hadn’t struck her as a diplomat.
Kirk started to walk, La’an joining him at his side. He told her how his captain had thought it would be a good experience for him to try and convince the Urtulians to join the Federation. Since the war, Kirk had relied too much on force and luck, and the captain wanted him to remind himself of different options. Remind himself what it was like to use his words. He told her about the planet surveys he had done before the war – disguising himself and living among the natives for a few weeks – about how educational and interesting and fulfilling those missions were.
“I dreamt of being an explorer,” he said and stopped next to a blooming shrub, “but I became a soldier.” His fingers caressed the red-yellow petals. “And they want me to be a diplomat.”
La’an studied his face in profile, the last rays of the setting sun reflecting in his hair. Carefully, she said, “We are still explorers, even with the tragedy and darkness inside of us.”
Kirk glanced at her, his eyes soft. “What is it about you…” he muttered, and La’an wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
“Commander?” she asked.
Kirk shook his head, frowning. His fingers played with the flower. Something about the way his fingers moved was mesmerizing, and La’an couldn’t take her eyes off them. How would the touch feel on her skin? The thought shocked her, but not enough to look away.
The stem snapped. Kirk gave her a sheepish look.
The sun set, and the lamps throughout the garden went on.
“It’d be a waste,” Kirk said and stepped closer.
La’an raised her head, her breath quickening. Behind the sweet smell of flowers was something heavier and sharper. Familiar. Kirk.
What was he doing? It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.
La’an didn’t move.
Kirk smiled at her and tucked the flower behind her ear, quick and sure, his fingers brushing her ear. La’an’s skin tingled. Her lips parted.
Kirk moved back, his arm falling down his body.
“There,” he said softly. “It suits you.”
La’an touched the flower, afraid it would fall. Her heart was thundering.
“What –” she started asking when her communicator beeped, cracking the fragile and isolated bubble they were in, hidden from the outer world. La’an blinked and fumbled for the communicator, hoping the flower would stick. The glass she held in her other hand proved to be a hindrance.
“This is Lieutenant Noonien-Singh,” she said.
“La’an,” Pike’s voice sounded from the speaker, “let yourself be beamed up on the Enterprise.”
“Is something wrong, sir?” she asked, watching Kirk straighten and his face harden. Gone was the warmth she could feel just a few seconds ago.
“The Enterprise has received a new mission,” Pike continued. “We’re leaving.”
An hour ago, she’d have been glad to finally leave Urtul behind. Now, she wished for more time. But maybe, it was for the best. She couldn’t let herself be pulled into Kirk’s orbit again, for she would certainly fall and burn. “Understood,” she said.
“Tell Kirk to go back inside and continue his mission.” Was it disapproval La’an heard in Pike’s voice? She pushed the question down. There wasn’t time to think about Pike’s opinions concerning Kirk.
“Yes, Captain. Noonien-Singh out.”
“Duty calls,” Kirk said, the corners of his mouth down. He rubbed his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone, but I don’t like playing a diplomat.”
La’an let out a soft laugh. Perhaps he needed the time away from the party as much as she did. And he’d chosen to spend it with her.
“Thank you for…” She waved her hand around. A walk through a garden was not her idea of fun, but she… could get used to it.
“Anytime.”
La’an swallowed. The communicator beeped. She opened it and remembered the glass she was still holding. She pushed it at Kirk’s chest without a word.
Kirk caught it with a smile. “This isn’t how I imagined you buying me that drink.”
“Next time,” La’an blurted out.
“I’ll look forward to it.” Kirk moved a few steps back.
“One to beam up,” La’an said and watched as Kirk and the evening garden disappeared from before her eyes and got replaced by the transporter room.