#pretend date

[kittythecat101]

The Ssum

I made the choice to search for a game where I could simulate being in a relationship with a man, and I believe this is the suitable app for me to engage in. 

[starryeyes2000]

Word in WIP Game

Thanks to the lovely @wordspin-shares for the tag. Open tagging any who would like to participate. Your word is cherish.

My word is dance.

From All About You (chapter 3). All About You is complete, the series it is a part of, Very Long Distance, is a WIP.

Chris takes her teacup and places it on the tray by his. He stands and holds out his hand. “I should go soon. But before I do, one dance. We missed that at the party.”

Unmoving, hesitant, her own hands now tightly clasped she says, “Not required on a pretend date, which is fortunate for you. I’m not very good at dancing.”

He untangles her hands and, taking both, gently pulls her up, while murmuring in her ear “I no longer care to think of this as a pretend date.”

“But …”

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “I want to feel you in my arms … to hold you … even if it’s just for a few minutes. May I?”

She nods. The music he selects is quiet and slow, faintly jazzy. After a few stops and starts and clumsy stances, they find a rhythm and move smoothly together. As she gains confidence her body relaxes into his. He leans down and she reaches for a gentle kiss. Neither notice when the music ends. Instead after smoothing his hair back, she lays her head against his chest, and they continue swaying.

[kaaras-adaar-a]

“Just pretend to be my date.”

more sentence starters !!

What? Kaaras’ brows raised a little as he looked at her. Someone she knew had come over in the tavern that they were staying at, and apparently she didn’t want them causing up any trouble. So... the Inquisitor? Or just him, a qunari, who was probably intimidating to anyone non qunari, to pose as her lover? 

Honestly, Kaaras could have just told the bloke to piss off, he didn’t really need to pretend to be her lover, but... if it would get the idiot off her back. He supposed there was no harm done, right? 

“Uh... alright, sure,” he finally said, sitting at the bar with a drink of wine in his hand. 

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 1

Next Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

Her attention is again drawn to the man on the outskirts of the large packed noisy room. The one attempting to shrink himself into a corner, as if he were trying to hide.

It wasn’t going to work. Not just because of his striking blue eyes and handsome face. Not because of his well-built physique. There is an air about him, he has presence. The media calls it ‘star power.’ But for him it is different. Not attention seeking. Rather he exudes confidence and authority. Leadership and competence. People are drawn to it, like moths to a flame, like Ferengi to gold, like Klingons to battle, like Vulcans to anything that piques their curiosity.

Of course those charming dimples are also tempting, she thinks.

Yet beyond the good looks and compelling aura, if one takes the time to look deeper, there is sadness. Tired eyes. A smile that is polite but not spontaneous. Shoulders that droop slightly despite the straight posture as if his responsibilities are too heavy and recent experiences have been harsh. He has an untouched drink in his hand, likely a prop to prevent fidgeting.

She knows that look of weariness. Has seen it before in her brother after a tough deployment and it calls to her protective instincts.

It takes time and finesse to weave through the crowds, but she manages to reach his side. Leaning in to be heard above the music and conversation she says, “You look like you could use a wingman.”

Chris is staring miserably at the ongoing party. How did I let myself get talked into this? A planet-side friend dragged him here, insisting Chris needed a diversion. His friend had explained it more colorfully, but he had outgrown that type of language after high school. He had also outgrown referring to a woman he wanted to take to his bed as a ‘target.’

His high school buddy left an hour ago with a very willing companion. Some friendships are better left in the past.

Yes, sharing the night with someone would be … nice. And end one of two ways – a fast furious ten minutes resulting only in his own release or an exhausting forty minutes holding back as he gave his partner the pleasure she deserved. Neither would be kind to her. Neither beckoned him at the moment, the first unsatisfying after those few brief moments, the latter too much … He thought about it and finally admitted to himself, it requires more than I have to give tonight. Yet he craved the intimacy found in the companionship of a lover.

I should leave. Go back to the ship. Though that was unappealing. On board, even parked in orbit, there were always a multitude of items and people vying for his time and attention. He wanted, needed a break from that tonight. Sighing, he decided on a long walk to clear his head and work out the lingering soreness in his muscles before beaming back to the ship to catch-up on work.

Lost in his own thoughts and caught off-guard Chris asks, “Excuse me?”

The woman now standing beside him – the one he noticed earlier, ok to be honest the one he watched, purposefully, several times during the evening, the one whose body language and playful manner with her escort telegraphed familiarity and closeness – smiles impishly and tilts her head slightly before answering, “Technically that should be an anti-wingman. You look like you could use one.”

All he manages is a confused expression.

“You turned down several offers for a …” She smiles before continuing and quiets her voice, as if sharing a confidence, “ah, shall we say a romantic liaison. Therefore it is logical to conclude you are not looking for seduction tonight.”

“But … you mean …” Chris stammers.

“I happen to excel in being a pretend companion. I’ll stand here with you which will deter the propositions.” She stops and narrows her eyes as if considering. “Well not all of them, some won’t deem me competition.”

Chris finally manages to utter a complete sentence. “But you are here with someone.”

“Oh that.” He noticed? Warmth spread through her at the thought. No, she tells herself firmly, he needs kindness and nurturing, not someone else clamoring for attention and affection. “I was his shield date, but our mission has been accomplished. I am now on my own.”

She moves to stand in front of him and looks up into his eyes, her expression kind. “We can talk or not, your choice, silence doesn’t intimidate me.”

The response is a smile. His first genuine smile of the night. “Alright, thank you. I should introduce …”

Her mischievous look is back. “Don’t wingmen have nicknames or handles? I’m not a pilot, but it might be fun to invent a handle.” I know who you are, but I think the flagship commander deserves the gift of anonymity for a few hours.

“This should prove enlightening.”

“Hmmm.” She taps her chin with a forefinger. “I could choose Amelia.”

Chris raises an eyebrow.

“As in Amelia Earhart. She was impressive. A bad ass. A little on the nose though. And I’m not much of a bad ass.” A pause. “You’re thinking CrazyChick is a better fit.”

That prompts a chuckle. “Not really, but why?”

“Because I offered to be your fake date,” she answers as if it were obvious. “Has that ever happened to you before?”

“It is a first.”

Seeing two women approaching with a hungry leering glint in their eyes she touches his arm possessively and stretches up balancing on the tips of her toes, whispering in his ear while shooting the pair a look that communicated – back off he’s mine!

Automatically Chris places a hand on the small of her back. To help her balance, he tells himself.

There was that warm feeling again. She pushed it aside and waited for his next cue.

They lapse into silence. For a brief time he seems lighter, but then the weariness returns. He takes a sip of his drink, grimaces, and places the glass on a nearby table. It had been a prop. Afterwards he clasps his hands together behind his back, frowns as if in pain, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and then not knowing what to do next, lets them drop to his sides. His eyes dart around the room like he is searching for a threat.

He surrenders to the inevitable, a lonely night. “I should go.”

“Me too. It’s much too noisy and busy for my taste.”

“Talking to you was the best part of the evening.”

“Thank you.”

Chris calls after her as she turns to leave. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll walk, it’s not far.”

“No.” It comes out like a command. “It’s late. I’ll see you home.”

How sweet and old-fashioned. “That’s not necessary.” She assures him.

He offers his arm, crooked at the elbow. “This is not up for discussion.”

She puts her arm through his. “Then I accept.”

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 5

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

ooooo

“Meili,” she repeats softly as she sits up and looks into his eyes. Her heart had leapt at the sincerity in his voice as he explained the choice of this call sign for her. The warmth she sees in his expression underscores that genuineness. And triggers apprehension. “Thank you.”

“Do you … am I the only one …” he stops unsure how to ask about or explain this intimacy between them. He’s heard of but never experienced love at first sight. He’s felt lust at first sight. This is different, it is familiarity at first sight and, so far, better than the other two. I am more comfortable with her than with any lover.

Her look is curious as she waits for him to finish the question. He shakes his head, “Not important,” and opens his arms in an invitation. As she settles next to him, Chris decides to merely be in this rare moment and enjoy it. Don’t ruin this, it is the intimacy you wished for earlier this evening. He chuckles to himself, I’m a dull guy. If a long-term relationship were possible for me, this is how I imagine it, these moments at the end of a long day sometimes talking, sometimes quietly listening to soft music, lost in our own thoughts or in reading or in work, always touching or within reach of one another.

But now fidgety, she is no longer at ease, and her body is tense.

She moves away and turns to face him. “My name is Lilly by the way. I want … I need to explain something. Please hear me out.”

Chris nods, disappointed that the ease in each other’s company might be about to change.

“My brother is a physician. He works with a humanitarian aid group, a non-government one. They serve the places other organizations can’t or won’t regardless of the conditions – conflict, disease, famine – to help the people who get overlooked.”

She pauses to allow any questions or comments. “Not always, but a few times when he returns home, usually after back-to-back to back assignments, there is a weariness in his demeanor. It’s hard to describe, a look in his eyes, a roughness in his voice, a slight slouch in his posture. You caught my eye at the party, and I saw those things in you.”

Chris continues to sit quietly, giving her all of his attention which she finds simultaneously refreshing and unnerving.

“Well-meaning friends and family jump in intending to help my brother during these times, and that overwhelms him. But he’s not the type of person to push anyone away, he wouldn’t take the chance of hurting their feelings.”

She smiles, “I promise I am coming to the point.”

“We now have a ritual for these times. Three or four days where the two of us play games, work puzzles, watch old videos, roam the park, and exist on pancakes, midnight pasta, and chocolate chip cookies. It gives him the space to just be and reconnect with himself.”

She takes a deep breath. “I deflected when you started to introduce yourself at the party because … I … I know who you are. And I wanted you, for a little while at least, to have the space to be anonymous, to just be without expectations. But now … it feels wrong to … to let it continue.”

“I understand if you are angry. It was meant as a kindness and not as a deception.” She searches his impassive expression for a clue to his feelings. I now understand how the rumors that he stares down foes got started.

“Does that mean I get pasta and cookies too?” Chris asks with a dimpled smile.

Her relief comes out as a nervous laugh as she exhales. He leans in and whispers in her ear, “I’m Chris by the way. And thank you. Anonymity is a gift for me.”

Working in the kitchen preparing a late supper becomes another type of dance, one without music but still with an innate shared rhythm, their bodies brushing together as they move about the small space; Lilly cooking at the range and mixing cookie dough while he performs the small tasks she assigns – retrieving items from the higher shelves, opening wine, grating cheese, slicing bread, and setting the table. With each brush they linger, prolonging the contact. Here and there one reaches out and caresses the other on the arm, or shoulder, or face.

Oh damn, Lilly mutters to herself as she quickly turns away and grabs the pan from the stove top before the contents scorch. Stop gazing into his eyes and concentrate. Chris reluctantly untwines his arm from her waist.

Instead of the sun in his earlier breakfast fantasy, light from the full moon streams through the window by the table in the kitchen as they sit side by side on the padded bench, eating pasta, laughing at each other’s anecdotes, and jumping from random topic to random topic.

“Wait, that is the third time you’ve used wicked in a different context. Please explain.” Chris says as he pushes his plate away and leans back against the wall. I can’t remember the last time I stopped for or enjoyed a meal. Usually, much to his CMO’s and the onboard chef’s annoyance, he ate hurriedly while working.

Lilly clears the table, “It’s a New England expression with a lot of uses. It has the tradition meaning, like evil deeds, but it’s also used as an adjective to emphasis something, such as wicked good or wicked bad. And it’s used as a one-word exclamation meaning awesome or fantastic.”

He rises to join her as she begins washing the dishes, looking for a towel to dry them. She points to a drawer. “I’m not from a Luddite community nor a technophobe,” she explains to his unasked question. “A kitchen reclamator or even an old-fashioned automatic dishwasher isn’t needed for one person.”

“When I’m done with starships, I think I will join you …”

She hides a secret smile at the thought of having him here fulltime. No, she tells herself sternly, thinking that way will make this hard, it is unlikely you will ever see one another again after tonight. And besides, he misspoke.

He stammers blushing slightly, “I mean I wouldn’t find a need for them either. And this may sound odd, but I like sharing these simple tasks with someone.”

“Me too,” she answers quietly.

Chris carefully puts down the glass he is drying. Drawing her hands out of the sink he guides them around his neck, nudging her body with his side and leg until they are facing. He shakes his head when she starts to protest about her wet hands. Tilting her chin up and leaning down, he kisses her, gently at first, chaste. As she returns the kiss he deepens it, channeling all his desire and need into it, trying to communicate he wants more but this was all he has to give in this moment. In a better time and place I would make love to you slowly, tenderly, emphatically. Drawing out the pleasure until you call out my name while I repeatedly coax you to climax.

Lilly brushes her thumb across his cheek answering that this is enough to his silent plea. He rests his forehead against hers. She feels his body start responding to her in other ways.

He abruptly steps back and away from her. “I’m sorry … I want you … but I … I can’t give you what you deserve,” he stammers and then adds quicky, “not tonight.”

“I am certain you are a generous lover,” she says softy, “but has it ever been all about you? Have you experienced that? Because you deserve it.”

Lilly holds out her hand. “Do you trust me?”

Chris nods.

She leads him to her bedroom.

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 2

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 900

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

ooooo

Once outside and away from the party, Chris breathes deeply and exhales, letting the crisp night air cleanse the remnants of the stale room.

“… or scenic route?”

And admonishes himself for tuning out, thinking it is rude. “I’m sorry, I … I missed what you said.”

“No matter.” She touches his arm. “It’s a ten-minute walk via the direct route. Twenty-five using the scenic path through the park …”

With the accompanying touch her response to his inattention feels genuine rather than perfunctory. Wanting to stretch their time together he interrupts and answers in a rushed tone, “The park. Yes, definitely the park.”

His reward is a brilliant smile. It least it felt like a reward to him. “Lead the way.”

They take the path through the trees and loop around a small pond. “There are no resident ducklings here in the spring, like in the public garden in Boston. I miss that. I miss feeding them and watching mom round up her brood.”

“You’re from Boston?”

She nods. They continue, arms intwined, as she lets Chris set the pace of their stroll and the conversation.

“Why?” He asks. Then explains in response to her puzzled look. “The, what did you call it? Shield date.”

“Oh, that. He’s a good friend from a large family who disapproves of his preference, his orientation. We were roommates in college. His parents showed up unexpectedly one day and I pretended to be his girlfriend.” She laughs. “You’d think they’d catch on after all these years.”

“You were very convincing.” Chris remarks dryly feeling possessive but trying not to sound that way.

She hugs his arm tighter, again surprised he noticed and still pleased he did.

Each time they near an exit he points to another path, another copse of trees, another plaque. An hour passes. Her phone beeps.

“Sorry, I have to check that. A lot is going on at work at the moment.”

As she reads the message he asks, “Important? Or was it an escape call?” He grins, flashing the dimples.

She notices when the smile isn’t forced, his features soften, and he almost relaxes. My god, I could get lost in that smile. “Hardly. My boss and his wife are on a mission to fix me up." She snorts. "Neither are capable of any subtlety.”

Chris admits to himself, reluctantly, he feels a twinge of jealously. A fix-up would be a real date. Then he chuckles, “I have a few people like that in my life as well.”

They end up sitting on a bench in the middle of a fragrant night garden filled with plants and flowers in shades of white, grey, and rose.

“There is something about the quiet of night that soothes.”

“Yes.” Chris agrees, thinking of deep space. He notices her shiver slightly. “Cold?”

“Not especially.”

Damn it, Christopher, pay attention. She’s in a sleeveless dress while you roam aimlessly in a park on a spring night. He stands, ready to suggest they leave but hesitates.

She catches his hand. “Let’s stay a little longer.” Needing little encouragement he sits down, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She snuggles into the warmth of his body.

This he misses. How does someone who likes physical contact, longs for it at times, end up in a job where that is practically off-limits?

“Do you have brothers? Sisters?” He asks in a ploy to divert his thoughts.

“An older sister and a younger brother. He’s travels a lot. You?”

“Only child. And I’m away most of the time.” This consequence of his choices lays heavy at times. “I think that would be easier for my parents if there were other children.”

The moonlight, the attraction, the camaraderie, the lack of pressure or expectation pulls at Chris. He leans over and down. Drawn to her lips, his own parting. She, looking up and into his eyes, her hand moving to caress the back of his neck, fingers combing through the hair at the nape; nods, communicating permission.

It’s so close and … Chris pulls back, unsure. I’ll be gone in two days and I’m … not … a good companion tonight. The moment passes. She lays her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest communicating she understands and reassuring it’s OK. He places his hand over hers relishing the contact.

Wanting to pull him back to a lighter mood she teases, “That’s not how a pretend date ends you know.” It works, a little. But they finish the walk to her apartment in silence.

At the doorstep, she holds out a hand intending to end the evening on a playful note and coax back his amazing smile. “This has been my best fake date.”

Chris takes the hand but rather than shake it brings it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Me too.”

Neither knew what to say next, what to do with suddenly awkward hands and limbs. She turns to open the door. He looks at the ground, reluctant to leave.

“Would you like to come up?”

No encouragement is needed. And his smile is back.

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 7

Previous Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

ooooo

Chris lingers in bed, savoring an ordinary experience which is a rare privilege for him – the morning sun streaming through the windows and a companion sleeping in his arms. Her head is resting on his chest and an arm is flung across his waist. He has discovered when he brushes the top of her head with a light kiss, she will, without waking, tilt her chin up and once her reward is given, return to her original position.

He has also learned she wiggles her hips as she dreams which preceded making love again at dawn, this time leisurely exploring each other’s bodies.

It feels odd, having nothing requiring my attention, especially after these past six months. It feels odd, but also very, very good. On a typical day, I would already be half-way through the morning shift.

His communicator beeps and he carefully coaxes Lilly’s head onto a pillow. She sighs but doesn’t awaken. I truly believe she would sleep through a red alert klaxon, he thinks, quietly chuckling, as he heads to the kitchen.

Returning, he sets the tray on the dressing table and sits on the bed beside her. He traces her cheek and chin with his finger before kissing her forehead and temple. His reward is a brilliant smile.

“Good morning.” She murmurs sleepily as she sits up.

“Good morning.” He sets the tray in front of her and sits opposite it.

“You made breakfast?” She samples the omelet. “This is incredible.”

He sips coffee. “Ah … no. I did order it however.”

She holds her fork out offering a bite which he accepts. “Well done.” She tries the toast and jam. “I thought I knew all the nearby restaurants, but this is so much better than any of those.” She gestures towards the tray. “And the flowers are a nice touch by the way.”

Chris can picture the smug smile on his crewman’s face. I should admit Chef added the flowers, or not. “Chef will be pleased with the compliment. Actually, I will never hear the end of it.”

“Does your friend have a restaurant?”

“No, he is assigned to Enterprise.” He continues in a wry tone, “Or rather he graces us with his skills and presence. Very generously he would say.”

“A bit of a prima donna? Lilly asks laughing.

“More than a bit.” Chris answers dryly.

“But worth it,” Lilly muses. “Thank you. This the first time a dashing Captain has sent down breakfast from his ship for me. I feel pampered.”

“Yes, today he has earned his keep. Of which he will remind me for months.”

“I don’t have enough of this in my life, eating breakfast in bed with someone special, I mean,” she says.

He reaches out and caresses her cheek. “Neither do I.”

“Do you … will …,” Lilly starts and then hesitates, not wanting to spoil the moment.

“Yes, I would like to spend the rest of my leave with you.” This time he hesitates, “I could … extend the ship’s stay to two weeks, take care of some maintenance …”

“I’d like that.”

After removing the tray, Chris returns and kisses Lilly, a lingering passionate kiss full of promise and possibilities that leaves her breathless.

She runs her hands up his arms and across his chest. “That’s the best kiss I’ve ever received.”

He flashes his dimpled smile, pleased.

Lilly chuckles, “Has any woman, ever, said no to those dimples?”

“Of course.”

“Other than your mother.” But I bet it was tough for her too, she thinks before cautioning, “Be honest.”

He rolls his eyes and concedes, “Some … a few … ok it’s rare.”

She smiles triumphantly before sighing, not wanting to miss a moment with him. “My nieces, they have a ballet recital this morning. It’s been planned for weeks and I promised …”

“And I have a few things to arrange with my ship and Command.” And a seduction to plan.

ooooo

After the recital, Lilly stops in the park she and Chris walked through the previous evening and sits on the bench in the night garden. I knew how this would end and I thought I was prepared.

Yet … I already …. Already what?

Care for him? Yes.

Am sad we will soon be far apart? Yes. But that is the reality of his commitment to Starfleet.

Perhaps the best path forward is walking away now. Protect yourself and avoid even the slightest chance your feelings for him will grow. Because the ending is inevitable, he will leave. He will always be leaving.

After the heartbreaking end to her only long-term relationship that she now admitted was doomed from the start, Lilly had come to believe love was a choice, making compatibility the most important measure for a boyfriend or lover. So, like many, she developed a list of must have traits. Chris failed the first item on that list. His available time was rare, fleeting and unpredictable. And if a romance blossomed between them beyond their initial hook-up, it would be very, very, very long distance.

Yet, a tiny voice inside, one she fails to extinguish, says ‘Chris is worth it even with his inevitable departure. Or …’ it prods, ‘if your feelings grow, if you both come to care deeply for each other, does the distance and time apart matter?’

Is it possible there is another type of love? Not the comfortable one that ticks all your boxes, but rather one that sneaks quietly and suddenly into your life? One that obliterates your assumptions and careful plans? One that is worthy of rearranging your life? One that isn’t always comfortable but offers an amazing and rare connection with another?

We could live a lifetime in two weeks. And you can then cherish that time for the rest of your life.

Her phone rings, interrupting her thoughts. She starts to ignore it, assuming it was another fix-up arranged by her matchmaking boss or his wife. “Lilly? I apologize,” says a colleague. “You’re needed in the office.” She resolves to deal with whatever is so important and return to Chris as quickly as possible.

ooooo

Chris frowns when he hears his communicator beep. “Yes,” he answers, annoyed with the interruption and speaking more curtly than he intends. He listens quietly to his XO. For the first time in his career, Chris considers using his influence and assigning the mission to another ship, thinking, basically, we will be ferrying an ambassador to treaty negotiations, that hardly requires the presence of the flagship.

I would, without a second thought, say no for the health and well-being of my crew, but saying no for personal reasons …

“Recall everyone and start the launch countdown. We’ll depart in four hours,” he orders.

We were never going to have more than a few days together, he reminds himself.

Then why do I already feel lonely?

Chris had been pacing for the past hour, waiting for Lilly to return, wanting to say goodbye in person, especially with the abrupt departure.

If only. There are no if onlys, he tells himself firmly. There are realities. I cannot give more than messages, periodic subspace calls, and rare time together at random places throughout galaxy. My crew, my ship and my mission will always be the pressing priority. I chose Starfleet and service and accepted the consequences.

Maybe I am thinking too narrowly, making too many assumptions. Maybe, with the right person something more is possible …

He shakes his head to clear it. No. With limited contact, a relationship would be imbalanced and always hostage to your career. That Is. Not. Fair.

With the little time left before his return to Enterprise, Chris composes a note to Lilly expressing his affection for her and appreciation of their time together. Again his communicator beeps and as he reaches for it, Chris absentmindedly brushes the paper with his hand, and it falls into the floor, facedown.

“Captain, Number One requests you return to the ship immediately, it’s urgent.”

“Very well.”

“Alerting the transporter room sir.”

“Thank you.”

As he stands and pushes the chair back, his foot accidently nudges the note under the desk where it cannot be seen.

ooooo

The launch is now two hours late. A myriad of problems, including a malfunctioning transporter had consumed Chris’ time and attention since beaming back on board. He rubs the back of his neck tiredly as he, Number One and his CMO wait for the Ambassador’s shuttle to dock.

The only bright spot in this mission is the return of Enterprise’s former Captain and Chris’ friend, Robert April who is now an Ambassador-at-Large. Bob, in his booming voice and blunt manner had explained in response to Chris’ question, “Ambassador-at-Large means I get all the assignments at the ass-end of the galaxy. Still, retirement is good.”

Bob bounds out of the shuttle, greyer, but otherwise unchanged. Tall and stocky, he’s like a fearsome grizzly bear with the personality of the laughing Buddha. Slapping Chris on the back, he shakes Phil’s hand as he introduces himself to Commander Una.

Right behind Bob is Sarah, his wife and former CMO of Enterprise. Various staff members file out of the shuttle. After counting Bob cranes his head, looking around, and remarks, “I’m missing one.”

His chief of staff replies, “She’s still talking to the General Counsel at Headquarters.”

“Very well, we shall wait.” Bob replies and rejoins Enterprise’s senior officers.

Chris happens to glance up at the shuttle as the remaining staffer disembarks. His breath hitches slightly. Lilly quickly looks away.

Letting his XO escort the delegation, Chris casually hangs back until he and Lilly are walking side by side. She leans in and whispers, “I didn’t know Enterprise was our transport. Everything happened so fast this afternoon. These negotiations were unexpectedly pushed up two months. There wasn’t time to … I won’t say anything …”

Sarah notices the quiet and brief conversation between Chris and Bob’s attaché. Later, in their quarters she remarks to her husband, “We’ve overlooked the obvious.”

“The obvious what?”

“Fix-up. Lilly deserves a good guy, and they don’t come better than the one on this ship,” she answers.

“You mean … Chris?” Bob asks and then grins as he considers the possibilities. “Of course! The perfect match for her was already right under our noses!”

“And he deserves someone who will shower him with love, devotion, and kindness. We have six weeks of travel to our destination. Plenty of time to make sure they get together. We should enlist Phil’s help …”

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 4

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

ooooo

She sunk down onto the edge of the bed, waiting for her heart rate to return to normal, thoughts swirling as she pushed away her body’s reactions and her attraction to the man. When did I stop thinking of him as Captain Pike? She smiles. There is a charming vulnerability in the man behind the formidable leader.

Stop, just stop, she tells herself firmly, this is about offering the space to just be. To one who needs and deserves it. With no pressures or expectations. And nothing more.

After dressing, she unconsciously tidied the room and mused about what life might be like on a different path. One filled with adventures among the stars and the people who embraced those voyages.

Chris’ attention darts around the kitchen whose walls are covered in the same creamy shade as the living area. Above the marble counters open shelves are stacked with dishes and cookware. Cabinets below the counters are painted a soft grey. It is organized in an efficient u-shape, everything only a few steps away from the large sink and … wait … is that a cooking range? Yes, it is, one of old-fashioned French ones. He takes another look around. Where is the replicator? Interesting.

Near the open portion of the u-shape is a table in front of another floor to ceiling window with a chair on one side and a cushioned bench pushed against the wall on the other. The window faces eastward. He runs his fingers along the back of the chair lost in the image invoked by his thoughts of a different path. The two of them sitting side by side on the bench in the morning with sunlight streaming into the room. Laughing over a private joke. Talking about ordinary things during breakfast before starting their day. Those little and perhaps insignificant moments when you share a life with someone. Moments that were … not prohibited but rare in his position. He craved them at times. Who would I be if I had chosen a different path?

Hearing movement in the other room he pushes the image away as he reenters the living area. And allows himself a moment to appreciate the woman who is still unaware of his presence. For the party she wore a simple elegant dress with her hair in a conservative bun. An attractive woman who caught his eye and then kept his attention. Now, dressed casually, looking down-to-earth in a dark sweater that complimented her eyes and black fitted pants with soft hair falling a few inches past her shoulders, she takes his breath away. But it’s more than the physical, he thinks, there is an openness in her that welcomes you in, that cheers and soothes.

She turns and smiles. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Chris says the first thing that pops into his head, “You don’t have a replicator?” Internally he rolls his eyes, could you sound any lamer?

Her expression is genuinely puzzled. “But on the … don’t you miss …” she stammers and then stops before accidently revealing too much. “I live a few blocks from the best fresh markets in the city, why would I need one?”

“Most still would, but I like that you don’t. That … rhythm of life … sounds nice.” Chris looks wistful and she notices. His next words sound reluctant, “I should go. I’m sure you have other things …”

She shakes her head and says tenderly, “Nothing more important than this. Than you.” A pause. “You could stay …”

His thoughts are still stuck on ‘nothing more important than you’ and he misses her next sentence.

Realizing what she just said, she looks down and away, bites her lower lip and stammers, “That is not what I meant … You are welcome to stay … but I’m not suggesting …”

You’re lovely even when flustered, he thinks. After catching up with the conversation, he gently tilts her chin up with his hand, “I …”

Stopping for a deep breath, she makes another attempt to explain, again rushing the words, “I mean I have a spare room. It’s pink because as you know I have nieces that stay over, but … more relevantly, its quiet and comfortable. And … I … I can put the dolls and other toys in the closet.” OK, that bit about the dolls was unimportant.

His hand drifts to the side and smooths a lock of her hair. “I see.”

She ducks just out of reach before continuing, “You … well …” Another pause. Another calming breath. “If you’d like to be … away … from where you normally would be, away from all your to-dos and responsibilities … and a hotel is quite impersonal … you are welcome to stay here … and … do whatever you want … I don’t mean that … I mean there are no expectations …” Oh for heaven’s sake, just stop talking, she thinks.

Without hesitation, without a pause, a smile beginning to spread to his eyes, Chris answers, “Yes.”

“I’ll get the room ready.”

He catches her hand as she bolts for the hallway. “No, please. Not yet. Can we sit and talk more? I haven’t had a night like this …” It was his turn to feel unsure and stammer, “well … not in … in a very, very long time.”

Turning back, she answers, “Neither have I.”

Their hands stay clasped as they settle on the sofa. Again she lets him set the pace of the conversation. “Have you lived in Paris long?” He asks.

“A little over a year. I was transferred here from Geneva.”

“Do you like it?”

She nods. “The city is beautiful, and my job is never dull. The Ambassador has, well, a larger-than-life personality with a great booming voice; there is never any doubt that he has entered a room. He and his wife have been generous helping me settle into a new city. I admire both of them.” She chuckled, “Despite the fix-ups that typically end in a debacle.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. I am much better at pretend dating than the real thing. And, in my defense, it’s not always my fault.” She mutters to herself, but Chris still hears, “… and I certainly wasn’t the one who called in a favor on Starbase 1 so that judge advocate could come to my rescue.”

He filed that tidbit away for later follow-up while thinking, that sounds like a prank that Bob would orchestrate.

“Will you be in Paris long?” She asks.

“Two, maybe three days. So no, not long.”

As the conversation ebbed and flowed, they moved closer to one another. She laid her head on his shoulder. Periodically he brushed his cheek against her hair.

“You still need a call sign. As my wingman.”

“Hmmm, I really don’t have any nicknames.”

“None?”

“Never. I’m just an ordinary girl.”

Hardly ordinary, he thinks. “No matter. I’ve already chosen it. My science … I mean my friend is studying Mandarin. Recently he spent a night explaining the intricacies of that language to me.” And I never expected to have a real-world use for the information, but as my father likes to point out, never turn down knowledge in any form, he says to himself dryly before continuing. “To me you are Meili, pronounced may-lee. Which means beautiful.”