JP: LtCmdr. Quentin Collins and LtCmdr. Connor Dewitt - Old Friends (Part II)
Justin Partridge
Quentin almost stopped dead in his tracks, even amid the gorgeous and luminous setting. It had been…a very, very long time since he had been addressed as such. Even longer still since he had thought of himself as such. But hearing the words and hearing them come from the earnest and achinginly sincere Connor Dewitt…it was enough to knock him over with a feather.
He knew this whole thing would be a trial. Both with his new affectation and obviously downturned demeanor, but just being the proximity of Connor and all these people and officers that had had such a profound impact on his life. It was giving him a charge and warmth that he didn’t expect.
And could do little to contain. He grinned sheepishly toward Connor, thumping after him in his new awkward gait.
Collins: You stop that. I can’t be blubbering before the vows.
Connor waited for the man to pass before he joined him.
Dewitt: Well, for me you’ll always be Quentin. ::pause:: Let’s get you to Ayemet… If she only sees you at the ceremony, I’m not sure she’ll stay at the altar. ::chuckling::
At that, Quentin gave a rueful chuckle. The last time he had “talked” to Ayemet had been…a test in itself. Such a test in fact that he opted to not be there as the talk, which came in the form of a handwritten letter to the incoming Chief Science Officer, gave his blessing in his stead. Further bequeathing his impressive collection of printed works and ancient paperwork to the young officer.
He hoped it was enough to soothe the ache of his sudden departure. But knowing her, and knowing the fire that blazed behind her mind and heart, he knew it would do little. The pall of his self-loathing returned slightly, but was withered back into his mind by the sheer glow of Connor and his special day.
Collins: Knowing her she will probably clock me before you cut the cake. ::under his breath:: and I wouldn’t much blame her.
Connor patted him on the back and led the way towards the stairs as he briefly glanced outside where the guests were already mingling. He briefly saw the Captain who was probably more nervous than Connor after Nolen had set his head right. A thin smile was on his lips as they reached the stairs.
Dewitt: Do you miss the old times?
Quentin stopped short of the stairs’ landing. It was like watching one of his father’s old tele-plays. One that was showing him what could have been should he have stayed in Starfleet. Captain Shayne with his open and boisterous laugh, mingling and carrying on beautifully with the crew that had quite literally saved his life on more than one occasion. New faces, old faces, and even a few he didn’t recognize at all. It was almost as intoxicating as the sharp smelling champagne that was being passed about.
Once more his hand tightened on the silver eagle head of his hand while his other dabbed liberally at his eyes. If he was hoping to maintain his mystique as the last bastion of the Collins legacy, he was doing a remarkably bad job of it. If anyone had looked up at them, they would have likely thought him some sort of rambling gatecrasher that Connor was politely escorting up and out of the ceremony.
Would they even still recognize him? Would they know how much he DID miss them? How could he ever put it into words? He turned shining eyes toward one of his oldest and kindest friends and told him what was in his heart of hearts.
The two men started to ascend and Connor only now realized that the question sounded more serious and probably addressed more emotions than appropriate for their remaining short walk to Ayemet’s room.
Collins: Every single day, Connor. Every. Single. Day.
Dewitt: We certainly miss you, old friend. The Khitomer is not the same without you…
They briefly stopped at the top of the stairs as Connor pointed to a door a couple of meters away.
Quentin’s eyebrows cocked slightly. Did he say…
Collins: The…Khitomer? What have you all done with my ship, Mister Dewitt?
Dewitt: ::chuckling:: Oh… right… the Arrow… Well, we have a lot to catch up on, Quentin.
They stopped at the door that looked like it was carved out of a single piece of wood by hand. Connor imagined that he could see the nervousness in Quentin’s eyes.
Quentin was all but quaking as they came to their destination. Just off the side of the dull, but growing roar of the assembly, Quentin figured this was where the bride and groom would be “held” until the ceremony. That meant…Jacin was just a few steps away. One or two doors at most. He was almost giddy with the sudden terror that fact filled him with.
But this wasn’t about him. This was about Connor and Jacin and they had been kind and gracious enough to include him in such. The very least he could do for them was NOT transform into a gushing mess of tears and expressed regrets. Though Quentin felt that most days he was MADE of regrets and kept going by spite alone. His quest to bring Richter to justice had become an obsession. He had even made sure that none of Richter’s claws and agents were anywhere near this ceremony before he had arrived.
He couldn’t, he WOULDN’T allow that reprehensible mountebank to take anything else from him.
From Jacin and Connor and his whole crew. His taint would be far, far way from this day, even if Quentin had to give another limb to make sure.
Dewitt: This is it for me… My mum would declare the marriage doomed, if I entered that room and saw her before the ceremony started. ::smiling:: Thank you for coming, Quentin.
Collins: Thank YOU both for including me. I know the way we left it was…less than ideal, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all again.
Quentin stood amicably, leaning smartly on his cane while he scanned their surroundings. Had Connor engineered this all along? That sly devil, him. Quentin felt himself easing and breathing through his coming tears as Connor turned to him again, aimed in the opposite direction.
Dewitt: Oh, Quentin, make sure she’s downstairs at 1500 hours.
It all crashed down on him at once.
What he was REALLY doing here.
And the honor and portent of the moment nearly buckled him at the knees. He nodded solemnly, once more dabbing at the corners of his eyes, this time with his monogrammed hankie.
Collins: Aye, sir. I’ll see it through.
He embraced Connor once more, with a little extra pull on the last bit of the hug and then turned like an ancient land vehicle toward the immaculate door. He found his breath catching. He had faced down Breen, Iconians, power mad despots, tyrannical cults, and even swapped minds and bodies with one of his peers…
And he had never been more scared of anything than this moment.
He raised a trembling fist to the door. Politely rap, rap, rapping with the edge of his sallow hand on the only thing that separated him from one of his most valued personal connections.
oO I really hope she doesn’t punch me…but I’ll understand if she does. Oo
Quentin Jaimson Collins the Third held his breath. And waited for his view (and likely the earned ire) of the Bride-to-Be.
Ayemet: RESPONSE
NEVER THE END…
TAG/TBC
Quentin Collins
as simmed by
LtCmdr Kirsty Carpenter
Chief of Tactical and Security
E239512QC0
AND
LtCmdr Connor Dewitt
Chief Engineer & Second Officer
USS Khitomer
A239901CD3