Petit Vriens - Chapter 4
by katirene (XMP)



      Nearing the end of his duty, Miguel shifted and stretched in his console chair, feeling an increasing unease. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the irritating ensign Adler approaching. He'd tried being nicer to her the past couple of days, but she tended to cut him off with protocol. Quickly, he refocused on the screen before him, braced for the words of her formal permission to view his work, but they didn't come. Instead, he felt her passage behind him, going further along.

      It was with a combined sense of shock and surprise that he looked over toward communications just in time to see her place her hands on the back of Tim O'Neill's chair and bend over him, her mouth so close to his ear that it had to be almost touching it. He felt an odd sense of betrayal that the ensign was over there and not with him. He leaned toward the two, straining to hear what she had to say to his best friend.

      But it just wasn't possible to catch any of it. Whatever it was, though, the effect on Tim was electric, a compleat surprise to the sensor chief, who had known him for several years now. Spinning around to look at her, his mobile, individual face lit up with a huge smile of welcome, and it was clear that he was more than pleased with her presence. Miguel cocked one eye-brow speculatively. He wasn't sure what he thought of this, but he didn't think he liked it one bit.

       Adler rested her weight lightly on his seat as Tim turned back to his station, his head turning back and forth to keep an eye on both the screen and her face. Apparently recognizing the inconvenience of his position, she moved more over to one side, enabling Miguel to catch glimpses of the her expression as they talked.

       He'd never dreamed that she could appear so animated as she gestured, changed positions, and then, finally, leaned back, throwing her head up to laugh quietly at some joke from the communications officer, accompanied with a comic-opera salute. Her eyes half-closed, her face open with pleased delight, the smooth column of her throat, disappearing into the open collar of her uniform. Why hadn't he ever seen her like that before?

       The disjointed sense of betrayal coelesced and was joined by the hot, liquid flow of atavistic anger. This wasn't right. Adler was assigned to Sensor Operations, and she had no reason to be over there, and none at all to be talking to Lt. O'Neill.

      "Mr. Ortiz," Ford's voice had a warning note in it.

       "Sir!" some of his emotions spilled out into the monosyllable, making it much curter than military protocol required.

       "Adjust the WSKRS pick-up for maximum dispersal, if you please." Quickly, he made the necessary changes, then turned back to his surveillance of the two.

       Ensign Adler had made a quarter turn in his direction, and Miguel was stunned to see her laughing, glee-filled face lit up and glowing with happiness. She leaned forward to cup a hand on the side of Tim's up-turned face and then moved even closer until, for a moment, he thought that she would kiss the seated officer, but she merely whispered something in his ear, that set the shy lieutenant laughing uncontrollably, earning them both a glare from the stolid second officer.

       As the ensign straightened up and turned with a fluid, graceful movement, the sight of her gentle, glowing expression of pleasure, still directed at Tim, sent a twist of pure jealousy through the Sensor Chief's guts. She'd never turned that look on him, none of it. Her face turned toward him, her words were clear on her lips, making it possible for Miguel to read her last words. "Ok. I'll see you then, Tim. And you'd better be ready, willing and able." She half-turned to flash that brilliant smile at him, then turned toward the sensor station again.

       Miguel had turned away, ostensibly keeping his face focused on the displays, but watching out of the corner of his eye. He could see her take a deep breath, and saw the animation flow from her expression. That almost unconscious gesture on her part felt like a hard right hook to his solar plexus. As she squared her shoulders, as if bracing herself before taking on an unpleasant chore, Miguel wondered just how she did regard him. Then she was standing respectfully behind him, at the sensor station.

      "Permission to observe, sir?" she asked, her voice curiously husky, with the purring undertone of some accent fuzzing the sound. The thought of what might be responsible sent a fresh jab of anger through him as he gave his assent.



       As soon as her relief appeared, Lonnie walked over to the entrance to the bridge where she usually met Miguel and Tim to share a Mag-Lev ride from the Bridge. Miguel had been relieved already, but he stood behind Ari at the sensor and WSKRS station, apparently giving her last minute instructions. Lonnie pursed her lips with amusement at the other woman's clear dismissal of both the sensor chief and his advice and she watched as he stood back, his shoulders drooping a little as if with disappointment.

       Slowly, he turned away and moved to join her at the entrance. As usual, Tim's relief was late by a few minutes, the rest of first shift dispersed by the time he appeared. Rising with alacrity, the tall, thin junior lieutenant almost skipped across to the young second-shift WSKRS operator, bending down for a private conversation with the ensign. Lonnie's eyes widened when Ari turned up a face so open and friendly that it might almost have belonged to some woman other than the one who'd relieved Miguel. Curious, she shot the muscular Cuban a sideways glance, to see if he'd noticed the change.

       From the darkened, glowering expression on his face, and his tense, almost angry posture, he had noticed and was not happy about it. With a final pat on her shoulder, Tim walked toward his two friends, still chuckling a little. Lonnie hadn't seen much of the previous encounter, just enough to excite her overly active curiousity and this added fresh fuel to the fire. His face still glowing from the brief exchange, he joined them.

      Off the bridge, out in the corridor waiting for the Mag-Lev, Miguel looked at Tim, curiousity mixed with barely contained pique, and he accused the other, "I thought that you said you didn't know her?"

       Tim's eyebrows raised, "Ari? I didn't." He smiled a small, secretive smile. "But I do, now." They entered the transport and sat down.

      Lonnie laughed, "You seem to know her quite well."

       Tim shrugged dismissively. "You know how things are on board. You don't know people, then you meet them and you do."

          Lonnie looked toward Miguel and their eyes met. He shrugged at the implied question, so she asked casually, "How did you meet her?"

       Tim's face screwed up warily, and he turned from one to the other, his eyes narrowed. Shaking his head at the two of them, he relaxed, the corners of his mouth turned, and he teased them, saying, "What does it matter? Look, you two, I've got some things I need to get to work on. I'll see you later, ok?" Standing up even before the Mag-Lev came to a compleat stop, he quickly exited and hurried off in the direction of his quarters, leaving the others standing, staring after him.

       Left agape by the suddeness of his dismissal, they slowly began to walk toward the off duty lounge. With an an impish, sideways flick of her eyes, Lonnie couldn't resist a jab at Miguel, testing his odd reactions to this turn of events. "I thought that Ensign Adler had a crush on you?"

       But he didn't react to her comment. Glowering and serious, he pursued his own train of thought. "I don't like this, Lonnie. This isn't like him. You know Tim as well as I do..."

     "Better, I hope," she interrupted with a half laugh.

      Seemingly oblivious to the interruption, Miguel continued his thought. "Have you ever seen him like this before? I mean, a couple of nights ago, he didn't even know the girl. Last night, she barely even looked in his direction, and now ... ? And now this?" He shrugged, his open, empty palm gesturing upward.

Now it was Lonnie's turn to look thoughtful. Pursing her lips, she shook her head slightly, "No. I can't say that I have." She smiled, shrugging her shoulders, "But what's the big deal, Miguel? You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

      "I don't think so. You didn't see what I saw, back there on the bridge." Lonnie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him and turning him around.

       "What is this?" she asked incredulously. "Four nights ago you were practically shoving her into his arms and begging him to take her off your hands. Now, you're bugged that they're talking together on the bridge? What do you imagine could happen there?" She looked at him closely, scrutinizing his expression. "Are you concerned about Tim getting hurt, or afraid that she might like him? That's it, isn't it? You don't like the idea of the two of them hitting it off together."

      Miguel shrugged her hand off his shoulder, turning away, uncomfortable. "You didn't see them," he repeated stubbornly, walking on. "Or hear what she said."

      Lonnie hurried after him, leaning closer in her eagerness to find out what she had missed. "And?" she prompted.

      "I think that they're planning a romantic rendevous," he confided reluctantly, as if hoping that the ensign could convince him otherwise. And she tried, laughing at the thought, certain that this was some elaborate joke on his part.

      "Tim? No! He wouldn't do that. He's too much of a gentleman." But Miguel didn't answer. Her brow wrinkled as she realized that he was serious about this. "What could they possibly have said to make you think that," she challenged him. He stopped, turning slightly to face her, and lowered his voice.

      "It's not just what she said, but the way they were acting. She kept touching him, and he was letting her. You know how he always pulls away and gives that warning glance when he thinks someone's invading his space?" Lonnie nodded, she'd seen that over and over again from their self-contained friend.

      "Well, it wasn't there. He was, I don't know, inviting her to get closer, I guess. And then, as she was leaving, she told him that she'd see him later, and that he'd better be, umm, I think she said 'ready, willing and able'."

      With a nervous laugh, she suggested weakly, "They could have been talking about almost anything, you know."

       "Yeah, maybe." With the air of someone pulling out the big guns, he said, "But she kissed him."

       "NO!" That was too much to believe. "She didn't! Cmdr. Ford would have had a stroke."

       "It was just after he'd told me me to change the settings on the WSKRS."

       Feeling vindicated, Lonnie smiled, "Then you couldn't have seen it. You're making it up."

       Stung, he turned on her. "Ok, maybe they didn't actually kiss, but it was clear they wanted to."

       His sincerity, and the pain the conversation was causing him, convinced Lonnie that maybe he did know what he was talking about. Doubtfully, she countered, weakly defending an increasingly indefensible position. "But Tim wouldn't agree to have, to have an on-board affair. And he definately wouldn't talk about it on the bridge if he did. I know him!"

      "Maybe not as well as you think," Miguel countered, and hurried away, leaving Lonnie standing open-mouthed in the middle of the corridor, staring at his rapidly disappearing back.



      Tim closed the hatch to his room with a sense of accomplishment. It was often that he could twist the tails of those two so compleatly, and it was thanks to Adler, no, to Ari.

       Still grinning, he looked around the organized confusion of his quarters, searching for his copy of "The Bacchae". It should be near at hand, he had it just that morning ... Ah, there it was. He picked it up and readied the audio-recorder, but didn't set it running yet. He wanted to savor the scene on the bridge first.

       The first clue he had to her presence was the pressure of two hands on the back of his seat and a warm puff of air on his ear. "Hey, Tim. I wanted to let you know that the tape's in your mail box. I finished it a little while ago." Her voice was low and husky, probably from the strain of reading aloud for so long, but it caressed his ear in a pleasant way.

       He'd smiled up at her, saying, "That's great! You are fast. I'll try to finish mine as soon as I get off duty here."

       "You'd better," she'd chided him. "You don't want a junior to steal the march on you, do you, Lieutenant?" The kittenish, come-hither tilt of her head delighted him. Although he knew that he ought to be paying more attention to his station, he couldn't resist stealing glances at her. Apparently, she noticed the problem and moved around so that he could keep an eye on both.

      "No, that would never do. I think I'll have to start running faster just to stay ahead." She'd laughed at that, apparently pleased with the compliment.

       "Please don't push yourself too hard. I know that you have a lot more demands on your time than I do." Shrugging a shoulder, she warned, "And if you do fall behind, I'll be there to push you on." From the position of her hands as she demonstrated, Tim thought that he might very well enjoy the assist. She continued with a half laugh, "Although I do confess that I am more than a little curious to compare the two."

       "So am I," Tim had admitted. "It's going to hard not to take a premature look at yours before finishing, though." Adler straightened up,  shaking a mockingly stern finger at him.

       "No peeking before you deliver on your end, Lieutenant. You know that as well I do."

      With a comical twist to his lips, Tim burlesqued a half salute. "Business before pleasure." He paused before daringly adding, "And this will be a pleasure." Ari had leaned back, throwing up her head and laughing musically. As Commander Ford's voice cut through the bridge, though, she abruptly straightened up and tensed, her attention directed outward, toward the dark non-com who'd been the subject of the Commander's verbal lash. Tim glanced over his shoulder to see what had upset her, but the other man was just doing his job.

       Remembering this, Tim felt perplexed and knew his face was wrinkling up with confusion. He'd looked back at Ari, and she was like another woman, her face set and anger sparking in her eyes. She'd looked down at him and relaxed slightly. With a nod across to the other station, she said, "Sorry. Apparently we are providing entertainment for the troops. Shall we give him something to really gawk at?" She quickly told him what she had in mind.

      Remembering, Tim's face split into a wide grin again. This could be fun, he thought, having an ally against Miguel and Lonnie both. She'd arranged herself so that she could keep an eye on the curious sensor operator while they continued their conversation. It hadn't been long before she nodded that they had his attention again.

      Leaning forward, she'd cupped the side of his face, and then had moved even closer, the laughter they were both suppressing making it difficult to maintain the pose. Then she'd whispered in his ear, "That should hold him." The sound of her smug satisfaction had made the entire situation unbearably funny and he couldn't hold the laughter in any more. Pleased with herself, she'd straightened up, turning in the same movement. And then she was gone, heading toward her assigned station.

       Sighing happily, Tim opened the book to the marked page, re-wound the recording, and found where he'd left off. Before he started, though, he wondered idly why they called an audio-recording a tape, when it wasn't anything like the fastening stuff? It wasn't even sticky. For a moment, he considered looking up the etymology, but with a quick twist of his lips, decided against it. Settling back comfortably, he began to read aloud.



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