Lt. JG T’Fearne - Overdue Ketchup
Teayl Thorn
((Poolside, the Farm, Endicronimus V))
Late-afternoon light spilled across the Farm in molten shades of orange and rose, turning the pool’s surface into a sheet of rippling gold. Somewhere beyond the palm-like fronds, a flock of unfamiliar birds called to one another, their voices melodic and strange.
T’Fearne had finally taken the advice so freely dispensed by the ship’s medical staff and come planetside to sample the Farm’s legendary rest and recuperation. She sat on the edge of the pool in a simple black bikini, sandals, an orange silk shawl and a wide-brimmed hat abandoned beside her. One foot traced lazy arcs through the perfectly warmed water.
Her body might have been at rest.
Her mind was not.
The events of the past few weeks replayed themselves with irritating clarity—unfinished conversations, moments left hanging. She hadn’t seen much of Tess during or after the rescue mission. Subspace gossip had him serving some sort of punishment dealt out by the Captain—but whatever penance had been required was long since paid. He and the others involved had served their time.
And yet, he remained conspicuously absent from her orbit.
She had seen him, of course, exchanged nods, glances, but she couldn’t recall a conversation. Previously, they would often grab a meal or spend time in the holodeck with other lower-deck officers, Alyndra, and Sybil when their schedules aligned.
Something she noticed and admired was that Tess Evinrude was not someone who missed much or acted indecisively.
Neither was she.
Which meant the silence between them wasn’t accidental.
Had she been avoiding him? Or had he been giving her space she hadn’t asked for?
They had shared a moment on Proxima Sigma IV. She had gained a flash of insight into her own feelings and possibly his. It had left something unresolved. T’Fearne disliked many things—but the sensation of slowly losing a friend ranked high among them.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she reached for the combadge clipped to her bikini strap.
T’Fearne: =/\= T’Fearne to Lieutenant Evinrude. I’m planetside, at the Farm. If you’re free… There are beverages here…=/\=
A pause—just long enough for her to almost have regrets.
Evinrude: =/\= Response =/\=
Relief flickered through her, along with subtle apprehension that she ruthlessly suppressed.
T’Fearne: =/\= I'm swimming at the pool, next to the bar. I was hoping we could spend some time together and talk about things. I believe humans call it… a ketchup.
Evinrude: =/\= Response =/\=
She glanced toward the dining tables and the softly lit bar beyond them, cushioned lounges inviting in a way the holoeck never quite managed.
T’Fearne: =/\= There is also food…I mean, ::heart thundering:: Tess, would you have dinner with me? =/\=
Evinrude: =/\= Response =/\=
The self-embarrassment of bungling the ask was swiftly overrun by relief.
T’Fearne: =/\= Good. I’ll see you here. =/\=
She lowered her hand from the combadge, the breeze tugging at the tumble of curls that fell over her shoulders and down her back, carrying with it the exotic scents of the planet, the aromas of cooking food and growing things.
Whatever came of this invitation—her heart told her it was necessary and overdue—it would be better had here, off the ship, away from the subspace gossip, where they had space to breathe.
She unclipped the comm badge, leaving it with her belongings and let her toes sink deeper into the water, watching the sunset ripple and break as she fully submerged.
And wondered, with equal parts annoyance and anticipation, why her treacherous heart was fluttering in unmistakable excitement.
[Tags / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14