This story’s been on shore leave itself, but now we’re back baby. Still set during S2, in case anyone’s confused. Time travel, man. In fact, probably go catch up over on ao3. If you want. If not: Burnham has come clean about how everything’s she’s done has been for Tilly. To her surprise, Tilly doesn’t think she’s crazy. In fact she thinks it’s all kinda cute. Unfortunately, you can’t save the galaxy through cuteness alone.
“You call that a pull-up??” Tilly barked, voice echoing through the almost-empty gym. Neither her tone nor her posture brooked any protest. Hands behind her back, she stood straight as a ruler and looked up at Burnham without remorse. “Again! And you better do it properly this time or... or else!”
Hanging from a metal bar, Michael breathed a heavy sigh that quickly mutated into a groan. Relaxing her arms she lowered her leaden body. Not that it was much of a relief. Her attempt at a pull-up might have been unsatisfactory to Tilly, but even just hanging on like this was a struggle. In her defence it was a lot of weight to hold up.
Her time on shore leave might have left her with a few extra kilos, but since then Burnham's misguided efforts to endear herself to Tilly had a much larger impact on her waistline.
Burnham’s hefty gut surged with each laboured breath, peeking out from under a black shirt that also failed to quite cover her burgeoning love handles. What had been a narrow waist and hard abs was now a chunky muffin top pouring over a too-tight waistband. Not that the rest of her was any different – if anything she filled out the supposedly roomy sweatpants even more amply than she did the t-shirt. Trying to act laid-back and approachable had taken its toll.
In hindsight Michael might admit that her overindulgence had not quite been the calculated effort she made it out to be. Jealousy had certainly played a part, as had the harrowing events of the past few months. After all that she had lost, she could not bear to lose Tilly too. This obsession had left her little time to go to the gym like she promised herself.
It was now dawning on Burnham that this had not just sabotaged her attempts to lose weight. She had clearly gotten more out of shape than she had anticipated – and this was how Tilly rewarded that sacrifice.
“This isn't a daycare, maggot! I want to see that double chin meet that bar or I'll see it meet my boot!”
Tilting her head slightly to the side, Michael looked down on her tormentor: “You've got a real sadistic streak, you know that?”
In an instant, Tilly's ferocious façade faltered. Her lips moved silently as if to work out an apology, but before she could find the words her expression hardened again: “Don't make me... whip you into shape, like, literally as well as figuratively! Less talking, more lifting!”
Finding no quarter with the redhead, Michael gritted her teeth and began to pull. Deep beneath their doughy softness, her arms burned white hot with the unfamiliar strain. Closing her eyes, Michael opened her mind to the universe – the universe she was going to save – and let it blot out the pain. After all, she had been through so much worse in her chequered career. She would not be defeated by a little extra poundage – especially not in front of Tilly.
“One!” Burnham groaned, holding herself up just long enough to confirm that she had indeed done it. With a triumphant, if slightly tortured, croak she let go of the metal bar and landed heavily on the floor. Surprisingly nimble, the chunky commander rolled with the momentum to flop safely onto her back.
“Yaaay!” Tilly cheered and clapped excitedly, abandoning all pretence.
Sprawled on the floor, Michael burst out laughing. “I see your 'Captain Killy' is still on point!”
The redhead smiled awkwardly and looked away for a moment. “Is it a bit much?” she chuckled nervously.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, Michael likewise averted her eyes but couldn't help but grin: “Actually, it's... kinda hot.”
“Oh. Wow.” Tilly's eyes went wide, suddenly very preoccupied with adjusting her shirt.
“Sorry, I didn't mean... I wasn't...” Realizing what she had blurted out, Michael promptly forgot all about how exhausted she was. She sat up and reached out her hand, as if to console the redhead.
“No, no it's fine. If anything I'm surprised to hear you say 'hot' and not... I dunno... 'titilating' or something.”
“That's not what I sound like!” Michael huffed, affecting an indignant air. Moderating her defiance a little, she leaned back and put her hands on the floor to steady herself. “...not anymore, anyway...”
Getting down on all fours, Tilly crawled over to join her. “Oh-ho? Is that also part of the new 'approachable' Commander Burnham?” the redhead smirked and gave Burnham's belly a playful poke.
“If you want to,” came Michael's coy response.
“Well I'm glad you enjoyed it...” Crawling over the other woman's thighs, Tilly leaned in closer. Instinctively, Michael craned her neck to meet her. For a moment Michael could feel Tilly's breath on her lips... before the redhead quickly pulled back.
Drawing herself to her full height – or as close to it as she could get sitting on her knees – Tilly grinned: “...because you still have 15 minutes to go before you're done! Come on! Move that incredibly lovely butt of yours!”
“You're evil...” Michael chuckled and let Tilly help her to her feet.
Nearly veered into angst territory here, but I think I managed to keep this trainwreck mostly on the fluff rails. Michael has to come to terms with possibly leaving everyone behind. That makes it hard to enjoy just hanging around with Tilly. Even if Tilly brought snacks.
There was a film playing, projected above the bed, but neither of them were paying much attention to it anymore. Some biopic around the time of early interstellar travel, purportedly “based on real events”. It hardly mattered.
By all accounts Burnham should have been on cloud nine, with one arm around Tilly and the other around a bowl of marshmallows. Both fluffy and way too sweet, yet somehow irresistible to her. It was hardly logical, but the universe had stopped making sense a long time ago.
For her part, Tilly was busy snuggling up to Michael's side, curling up slightly to rest her head on Michael's shoulder. The way Tilly's arm hugged her waist made Burnham extra conscious of her unfamiliar girth, but at the same time having the taller girl so close made her feel less... large.
This evening the redhead's presence wasn't enough to soothe Michael's mind, however. The meeting in the captain's office earlier that day had come with a crushing revelation. She had made her decision in a heartbeat, but the ramifications of that decision were taking a lot longer to process.
Everything was falling into place for their final, desperate attempt to thwart Control's single-minded pursuit of Discovery and the invaluable data the ship held. The time suit was almost ready. Likewise the crystal that would empower it. And therein lay the problem. According to Queen Po's most recent calculations the massive amounts of energy required to power the time crystal would be more than the crystal could bear. Burnham could use the suit to guide Discovery into the future, out of Control's grasp forever... but it would be a one-way trip.
Burnham did not hesitate for a moment. The fate of all life hang in the balance, after all. But for all her bravery she had been unable to muster the courage to tell Tilly.
On Michael's shoulder, Tilly made a happy little noise as she stirred. Reaching for the snacks she pulled out a marshmallow and let it swoop towards Michael's lips.
Lost in thought as she was, Burnham still opened her mouth on pure instinct – only to be baffled out of her brooding when Tilly snatched back the treat and popped it into her own mouth.
Brought back to reality, Michael gave the mischievous redhead a quizzical look.
A sly look appeared on Tilly's face as she chewed, but she feigned innocence when she explained herself: “Don't you appreciate the sacrifice I'm making?”
“Sacrifice?”
“Someone's gotta eat 'em,” Tilly shrugged and went for another. Smiling affectionately, she rubbed Michael's belly. “I won't be held responsible if your time suit doesn't fit!”
“Ah... about that...” Burnham paused. Faltered.
As the silence grew longer, Tilly grew more confused. “About what?”
The moment loomed large in Burnham's mind. She stared at Tilly's earnest face. She had been so happy, just cuddled up here. There was no way Burnham could break her heart by telling her. Not now.
“About that... you see...!” She did her best to try and ease herself into feigned nonchalance. “You see, I have this cruel personal trainer taking care of that.”
“Cruel are they?”
Burnham could feel herself relaxing slightly, comforted by Tilly's playing along. “Just terrible! Running me ragged. And the worst thing is, she's so cute I can't even tell her 'no'! So...” She held up a marshmallow between them. “...I think I deserve this.”
Tilly propped herself up on her free hand and watched in silence as Michael chewed defiantly. Then, with a philosophical look on her face, she rubbed Michael's stomach as she mused: “You're right. We can't have you waste away and end up rattling around in that time suit. The exoskeleton has already been cast, after all.”
In her mind Burnham cursed Tilly for presenting her with another opportunity to come clean about her plans. But she could not bring herself to ruin this perfect little moment.
“Right...” she mumbled, unable to completely keep hesitation out of her voice. “Exactly.”
The subsequent silence was made somewhat awkward by that sombre tone. Acting quickly, Burnham did her best to mitigate it by opening her mouth, with theatrical anticipation.
“Oh alright,” Tilly teased and reached over to pick up another treat. For a moment she gave the marshmallow a thoughtful look, before popping it into Michael's mouth and smirking: “I guess your 'personal trainer' is just gonna have to go extra hard on you tomorrow then, huh?”
Mouth full of fluffy sugar, Michael just gave the redhead a silent look of utter betrayal.
“What do you say...” Tilly mused, pretending to ignore her plight in favour of studying a fresh marshmallow. Turning her attention back to Michael once she was done chewing, the smile on Tilly's face was particularly impish. “...one minute on the treadmill per marshmallow?”
It wasn't as if Michael could say no to Tilly at the best of times – as evidenced by her stout midsection. And right now those sweet treats seemed the only thing able to ward off the guilt. Even if she had to spend all of tomorrow on that damn treadmill.
Tilly fed Michael gingerly, then looked away and bit her lower lip. Easing herself up slightly, she made to turn closer towards her companion. As if sensing something in Burnham's eyes, Tilly hesitated. For lack of anything better to do, the redhead gave Michael's belly a quick pat to try and defuse the awkward silence.
“Two minutes,” Tilly smiled as she went for another marshmallow, relieved to finally find something to say.
“I'm so lucky to have a maths genius like you around,” Burnham retorted and accepted the treat.
Halfway leaning over Michael, Tilly just chuckled. “Shut up or I'll make it double.”
“Surely that's too easy to calculate. At least make it the square root or something. Challenge yourself.”
Tilly clearly did her best not to roll her eyes. “Is that really your best attempt to trick me into taking it easy on you?”
“I'm trying to appeal to your pride,” Michael said playfully before biting into the next treat.
“I'm not Stamets. That won't work on me.” Reaching towards the snack bowl as she spoke, Tilly's bosom pushed against Michael's chest. She found herself surprised how little distance there was between them.
“Then... what would?” Burnham nearly gasped. The sudden shortness of breath surprised her. The redhead wasn't weighing that heavily on her, was she...?
“W-well there might be something...” Even more flustered than usual, Tilly busied herself rearranging the marshmallows in the bowl. A quick glance at Burnham's expression seemed to change her mind. “Uh... no, it's nothing. Forget I said anything.”
As if seeking comfort and stability, Tilly laid back down. Resting her head on Michael's shoulder, she found it.
“What's wrong?” Michael craned her neck to try and look Tilly in the eye. With the taller woman almost on top of her, arm around her waist, there was little she could do about it.
“Nothing.” Despite the curtness of her reply, a thoughtful pause was followed by a happy sigh. Soothed by Michael's soft, comforting presence, the redhead sounded like she was falling asleep when she muttered: “Nothing's wrong...”
Unsure of what to do Burnham put her arm around the dozing ensign. It took her a moment to realize she was gently stroking Tilly's back. She could feel the redhead relax at her touch, snuggling closer as she drifted off to sleep.
I should tell her, Burnham scolded herself, but conveniently decided she could not wake Tilly. Instead she continued her soothing caresses. It was the least she could do.
