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One:
After the screaming and the gorn and the tearing of teeth scraping across flesh, there was silence. Just gentle breaths in and out, just a face which had been twisted in fear, now smooth and calm in sleep. And there was Una, watching.
The girl seemed soothed, content to place her fate in the hands of a stranger for now, but Una was that stranger. For the first time, she felt the weight of responsibility heavy in her chest. And, overlaid on it, there was something soft; she wanted to see this girl smile.
How was it possible to feel so scared when all the worst things which could ever happen to a person had already happened to you? Una never cried, except now, it seemed, she did.
Two:
Lonely days and lonely nights. La’an was always surrounded by others, and yet she was always alone. Boarding school passed her by in a flurry of exam papers and comments behind her back and trauma therapy she didn’t want.
What did she want? The stars maybe, to protect others maybe, the stars definitely, because Una was there. Even that thought was enough to calm her, like a cold compress pressed against thoughts which were always spiralling. In amidst all the memories she tried to forget, Una’s face was like a brilliant shard of light.
And sometimes, in the evening, there was a letter from Una waiting for her, a beacon, a clarion call, telling her that there was more to her future than this.
Three:
‘Lieutenant, huh? Guess you really will be the chief some day.’
Una grinned. Just spending time with Starfleet’s most brilliant new cadet was putting her universe to rights in all sorts of ways. ‘Think it suits me?’ she asked, holding out the arm with the new rank sliders.
‘I think they should be promoting you faster.’
‘How’s the Academy?’
La’an shrugged, telling Una everything she needed to know – friendships did not come easily to La’an. ‘I’m top of the class.’
‘I’m proud of you.’ Una was rewarded with one of these rare, brilliant smiles which seemed to transform La’an’s entire being. Una never wanted the moment to end.
Four:
Her face was pressed into Una’s shoulder, that silky smooth hair tickling her cheek, Una’s arms around her back. La’an wasn’t one for hugging, except with Una.
Una went to step backwards, but La’an felt her own hands grip harder around Una’s neck. Una relaxed then, surrendering to the embrace as they held each other for much longer than friends really should have.
That feeling of Una solidly there somehow meant more than this whole graduation thing which they were meant to be celebrating. La’an was clever, she’d always known she would graduate; what she couldn’t let herself take for granted was this, was Una, her Una, here, in her arms.
Five:
‘She’s not very…you know… fun…’ Una paused in her walking, some sixth sense telling her that her new colleagues up ahead were talking about her.
‘Maybe she’s just shy,’ That was Chris Pike, their first officer. ‘I think we should still invite her…’
‘If you say so…’
Una turned and walked away from them. It was easier if they didn’t know she’d heard. She sometimes felt as if no one ever saw the real her, the Una underneath that carefully crafted, professional façade. The Una who loved stupid jokes and musicals and bad movies, but that Una was stronger and faster than any of them and healed herself with webs of golden light. That Una was a dangerous criminal.
Only one person had ever seen even part of that Una and she was on a classified mission far from here.
Six:
On an anonymous battlefield in the middle of the Klingon War, La’an took a phaser shot to the stomach. It should have killed her, everyone said it should have killed her, but it seemed that the blessing (or curse) which allowed her to always survive was still with her.
When she came around, she felt tired and ragged, stretched out and worn down. On her skin was a new scar to join all the others.
‘Is there anyone we can call?’ The medic’s eyes were filled with concern.
La’an shook her head. Inside, she was screaming for Una, but that old instinct, the one which told her to stay quiet, to stay small, wouldn’t let her speak.
Seven:
Kiley 279. She definitely wouldn’t have thought that it would all end on Kiley 279. She hadn’t even heard of the place until about a week ago.
‘I can’t stop thinking about my sister,’ one of the ensigns was saying. ‘We had this fight and I never said sorry.’
‘You’ll see your sister soon,’ Una heard herself say, not believing a word of it.
‘Who are you thinking about?’
‘No one,’ Una muttered, even as La’an’s face swam before her eyes. It was always La’an she thought about. Everything seemed to come back to La’an.
And then the door to the cell was opening and, there, framed in the light from the corridor, was that face, transformed by the biggest grin Una had ever seen.
‘I appear to be hallucinating, ensign,’ she said, softly.
Eight:
Fire was racing across her skin, tap-dancing up and down her spine. Everything was tender, everything was burning. There was nothing except the pain; it was almost exquisite, almost an art form, torture elevated to new and dreadful heights.
And nothing helped. All she could do was scream and scream and writhe on the floor of her quarters and scream some more.
And then, suddenly, out of the darkness, came light. Cool fingers were on her forehead, gentle arms were around her, lifting her, placing her on her bed. Another body was lying beside her, cradling her. And she turned her face into the shoulder of the person she loved most in the world and let herself be held.
Nine:
The table was littered with empty glasses. The bar was deserted, everyone else having left for the night a long time ago. This was completely out of character; Una could count on the fingers of one hand, the number of times she’d been the last one in a bar.
Across the table, La’an regarded her thoughtfully. ‘This is why I joined Starfleet you know.’
‘To hang out in the bar?’
‘No,’ and here, a small smile touched her lips. ‘To hang out with you.’
And Una felt like the luckiest person alive. She realised, in that moment, that La’an was beautiful.
Ten:
‘Lieutenant?’ La’an’s head jerked around. Pike was staring at her from the Captain’s chair.
‘Yes sir?’ She had no idea what he’d just asked.
‘I was asking if you were alright, Lieutenant?’
‘Yes, sir, perfectly, sir.’ Only she wasn’t.
Up ahead, in the Pilot’s seat, was Una, looking at her now with concern in those brilliant blue eyes. And Una was the reason La’an wasn’t alright.
A week ago, she’d noticed the elegance of Una’s fingers as she tapped away at a PADD, then, in the evening, she’d felt a twisting in her stomach as Una walked towards her table in the bar. And, just now, as Pike had been talking to her, she’d been lost in wondering what it would feel like to sift Una’s hair between her fingers. La’an took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts down; people didn’t think about their friends like that.
Eleven:
La’an’s features were soft in the yellow lighting of Chris’ quarters. Every now and again, their eyes would meet across the table and Una would feel a strange twisting in her stomach. Her fingers were restless, itching to reach out, to take La’an’s hand.
They were both involved in other conversations, but Una was only half taking in what was going on. The rest of the room was in black and white, while La’an was rendered in glorious technicolour. Una wanted the rest of the world to melt away, wanted it to be her and La’an forever, caught up in the bubble of each other.
She shook her head, trying to push her thoughts away; this was La’an she was thinking about, her best friend. La’an who had been seventeen when they’d met. Seventeen to twenty-two had seemed like the biggest distance in the world; thirty-one to thirty-six though was very different. Una pushed that thought away too. That thought was dangerous.
Twelve:
La’an could feel sleep trying to claim her. She was enveloped in softness; the sofa in Una’s quarters was much nicer than her own, but that wasn’t what the softness was. The softness was Una herself, seated beside her. They weren’t touching, but there was only a whisper of distance between them.
La’an wasn’t really watching the movie anymore. Instead, she was watching the flicker of the lights on Una’s face out of the corner of her eye, was watching the way Una was watching her too.
So slowly that it almost looked unintentional, Una stretched and draped one long arm over the back of the sofa. Trying to look equally casual, La’an leaned a little to the left and, after a moment, Una’s arm found its way to her shoulders. And then La’an did let her eyes close.
Thirteen:
The ship arched high above their heads, golden sails outstretched. Beside her, one of those rare and brilliant smiles had found its way onto La’an’s face. For a moment, La’an looked as though she’d never met the gorn, as though nothing bad had ever happened to her.
Una reached out and placed a hand on La’an’s arm, needing to anchor herself, to feel La’an solidly beside her. She wished she could inhabit this moment forever, could step inside it, wrap herself up in it. For, in this moment, she and La’an were the only things in the universe and it was beautiful.
Fourteen:
The Princess lay back in the warm water, letting her eyes roam over the huntress who stood in the doorway. The huntress had an animal grace about her, a physicality which fascinated the princess, which made her want things she’d never thought about before. And the princess was used to getting what she wanted.
‘Won’t you join me in my bath?’ She said.
The huntress’ eyes lingered on her face and then drifted lower. The princess saw those dark pupils widen, saw the huntress take a step forwards and then the world began to dissolve.
La’an came to herself on the floor of Una’s quarters, a metre away from Una herself. Their eyes met, a sense of something unresolved hanging in the air between them.
Fifteen:
‘Number One to Lieutenant Noonien-Singh.’
‘Noonien-Singh here.’
‘Do you have plans tonight, La’an?’
A pause and then ‘I was actually in bed. It’s been a long day.’
‘Are you ok? All the time, when we were going up against the Gorn, I just kept thinking about you, about how hard this must be for you…’
‘I’m ok. Weirdly, I’m ok.’ Another pause and then. ‘Are you ok, Una?’
‘I don’t know…I…’ Her voice cracked a little. ‘No, not really. I was so worried about you.’
‘I’m on my way.’
‘You said you were in bed.’
‘I think this is more important.’
‘I don’t want to disturb you.’
As usual La’an was direct. ‘Do you want to see me?’
And Una couldn’t lie. ‘Yes. I think I need to see you. I need to see you and know that you’re ok.’
‘Then I’m on my way.’
Sixteen:
La’an bit into the last strawberry in the bowl, feeling Una’s eyes on her from half a metre away.
‘I missed you the most,’ Una said after a moment. ‘When I was in jail. I mean, I missed everyone and everything, but it was you that I couldn’t cope without. When I saw you on the stand, I…’
And then Una was sobbing and La’an went to her, drawing her into a hug. For a moment, neither of them spoke, they just held each other, their silence saying more than words ever could.
‘I’m here now,’ La’an whispered, lips brushing against Una’s hair. ‘I’m right here.’ And Una sobbed harder.
Seventeen:
‘There’s something I can’t tell you.’
The words seemed to fall like blocks of stone, heavy between them.
Una fought down a feeling of betrayal, followed by panic. Why couldn’t La’an tell her? Weren’t they as close as she had thought?
‘It’s because of the temporal prime directive…’
And Una’s panic was replaced with worry. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Define ok.’ There was a hitch in La’an’s voice, a certain brightness in her eyes which made Una worry even more.
‘What can I do to help?’
‘Can I…’ La’an hesitated. ‘Can I sleep here tonight? I don’t want to be on my own.’
Eighteen:
La’an was aware of a delicious warmth surrounding her, a feeling of being wrapped up in comfort, in safety. She stirred, began to blink her way to full wakefulness.
‘Morning sleepy head,’ Una’s voice was so close that La’an could feel it vibrating through her.
As she clawed her way to consciousness, she recognised the warmth for what it was; her head on someone’s shoulder, a long pair of arms wrapped firmly around her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I seem to have rolled onto you in my sleep…’ She went to move away, but those arms, gripped her more securely.
‘You don’t have to move,’ Una said. ‘Unless you want to?’
By way of answer, La’an nestled further into Una’s shoulder and let her eyes drift closed again.
Nineteen:
Una looked up from her PADD, tiredness making it hard to focus. Her eyes scanned her quarters, snagging on a pile of La’an’s security reports at the other end of the sofa. On the table, she could see a mug La’an had left there at breakfast, on the back of the chair La’an’s spare uniform jacket was haphazardly draped.
Una looked at each of these things in turn, these footprints left by another in her space and she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time La’an had slept anywhere other than here. She knew it was weird, she knew it wasn’t what friends did and she found she didn’t care.
Twenty:
‘You look good,’ Chapel was smiling at La’an as she entered the bar.
La’an looked down self-consciously. It was rare for her to be out of uniform. ‘No need to sound so surprised.’
La’an scanned the room. They were celebrating Uhura’s birthday, but it seemed she was one of the first to arrive.
‘She’s not here yet,’ Chapel said with a knowing look.
‘Uhura’s right over there,’ La’an said, feigning innocence.
‘Not her. It’s our gallant first officer who isn’t here yet.’
‘Why would you think I was looking for Una?’
‘Because you dressed up specially for her.’
La’an looked down at the ground, unable to deny the truth of that statement.
Twenty-One:
‘Number One,’ Una paused at the sound of her name. She turned to face Pike, letting the others file out of the morning meeting around her. Pike waited until they were alone. ‘Number one, I need to ask you a personal question.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘Is La’an… living with you?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘The power usage in her quarters is very low and, well,…’ he hesitated, looking embarrassed. ‘Lots of people have seen her leaving your quarters in the mornings.’
Now it was Una’s turn to hesitate – was La’an living with her? They hadn’t discussed it. It had just sort of happened. ‘She… stays over sometimes.’
‘If the two of you are in a relationship, you’d need to let me know…’ Pike was going steadily more red in the face.
‘We’re not, sir,’ Una said, but, even as she said it, she realised that she didn’t really know what she and La’an were. Things had become complicated somewhere along the way.
Twenty-Two:
It was late, after midnight, the time of night when it’s sometimes easier to speak aloud truths which are hidden.
La’an, coming out of the bathroom, saw Una sitting on their bed (when had it gone from Una’s bed to their bed?), looking at her with the strangest expression on her face. Una held out a hand and, wordlessly, La’an took it, sitting beside her, eyes drifting to how their fingers intertwined, seemed to fit perfectly together.
‘La’an,’ Una said, voice heavy with some emotion La’an couldn’t name. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…’
La’an’s heart leapt in her chest, beating with wild hope.
‘I love…’ And then Una seemed to falter, her courage seemed to fail. ‘I love having you stay here.’
And La’an felt disappointment rising in her, even as she leaned into Una, relishing in the feel of a long arm draped around her.
Twenty-Three:
La’an’s hair was loose down her back, her body encased in a brilliant red dress. She threw back her head and laughed at something Sam Kirk was saying and Una couldn’t look away, couldn’t understand how anyone could be focusing on anything except La’an. She was entrancing.
‘Number One?’ She realised that Pike had been talking to her and she hadn’t heard a word. ‘Are you alright?’
Una tore her eyes from La’an. ‘I think someone else should do La’an’s performance reviews, Chris.’
‘Why’s that?’ Chris’ eyes were full of understanding, as if he already knew what she was going to say.
‘Because I’m in love with her.’ The words were easy to say to Chris, impossible to say to La’an.
Twenty-Four:
After the screaming and the gorn and the tearing of teeth scraping across flesh, there was silence. Just the sound of La’an’s footsteps as she made her way down the corridor of the ship she called home.
And then there was the swish of the door to Una’s quarters opening, the sound of La’an’s voice as she spoke the words which had been hanging between them for so long. ‘Una, I’m in love with you.’
There was a sharp intake of breath, the rustle of fabric as Una stood and closed the distance between them with three long strides. ‘I love you so much, La’an.’
Finally, finally, after years of wanting and waiting, their lips came together in a kiss which was so sweet that La’an felt she might break with the wonder of it all.
Twenty-Five:
Una held the woman who was no longer a stranger in her arms. Her lips were pressed into La’an’s hair, La’an’s arm was thrown across her stomach, relaxed in sleep.
Una though, Una didn’t intend to sleep for a long time. This moment, right here, was too wonderful to waste.