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STARFLEET: ORIGINS
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: To Court a Nightingale==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2262.048
MD 2.2110
Scene: Metron Sphere
The scouting parties began to drag in after only four hours, their Gorn members
on the verge of collapse. Within another two, many of the aliens were becoming
seriously debilitated. By twelfth hour since Corbett had found a cure for the
humans, most of the big lizards were checking themselves into the improvised
sick ward that Kiska had prepared.
At least the scouts had found a few new herbals for Corbett to try out. They
had even located a nearby stream to replenish their drained canteens.
While Corbett kept at his improvised lab work, Sean watched Kiska lovingly tend
to the ill. He marveled at how exceptionally kind she came across in her roll
as nurse. She was attentive and proactive regarding her patients' needs. She
brought damp linens to ease their fevers, water to rehydrate, and she never once
flinched at the unenviable task of wiping away excrement when the creatures
became too weak to make it to the latrine.
And she kept smiling around them. She did it even though she probably suspected
as he that they couldn't read human facial expressions yet.
It was in that darling smile that Sean noticed the first signs of strain. More
and more when she turned away from the Gorn, the smile slipped. Then as the
hours rolled on and more Gorn came in, worry lines began to distort her pretty
face. She tried to keep the lapses to when she thought no one was looking. But
it was plain to Sean how frustrated and afraid she was for her patients, knowing
she could only try to ease their discomfort while waiting for a breakthrough.
Eventually Sean, with little else to do, became a nurse's aide. He had proven
less adept at controlling his gag reflex around the malodorous greenies, so she
had tasked him with working the laundry and hydro duty. From time to time he
took the soiled alien garments to a washing spot. They dared not pollute the
stream, but a hollowed out pseudo-cactus allowed then to move water around in
quantity. After washing, he laid the clothes out on rocks to dry and went back
for more.
During a lull in the workflow, he motioned her over. At first he began to ask
how she was doing. Then he saw the dull fatigue in her ice blue eyes. "Let's
step over there for a minute," he said, gesturing to a boulder that would take
them out of sight from the others.
When he was satisfied that they had a measure of privacy, he told her, "Corbett
may be on to something with the blood sample you gave him." It wasn't quite a
fib. Stile had said very little about his progress lately. But he could see
Kiska needed something to lift her spirits. Suddenly hopeful, she point blank
asked to know what Stile had said exactly. Caught, Sean tried to equivocate.
"Well, he hasn't been cursing at Zade for several hours so that has to be a good
sign right?"
He could see Kiska wasn't fooled. "Sean, please I don't need protecting," she
said, no longer smiling.
Sean put up his hands and rushed, "No, I don't mean to be like that. It is just
that you've been at this all day and I figured you could do with a dose of
encouragement.
For several seconds she just stared into his earnest blue eyes. The look of
weariness intensified over her fair features. "I don't like not being able to
help my patients. Even if they do smell worse than week old dead cod."
Sean snapped his fingers. "So that was why the stench seemed familiar."
Wanly, Kiska shook her head over his dry attempt at humor. She looked as if all
she wanted was to sleep for about a week.
Sean put a hand on her shoulder. She regarded him, curiously, uncertain at how
she should react to his touch. With a proud smile, Sean told her, "What you are
doing here may be the most important thing you ever do in your career. A
Federation nurse caring for a group of helpless Gorn? That has to score some
points towards making thing better between them and us. And that could protect
more lives than we could ever dream of."
Imperceptibly, Kiska nodded
in response. Sean continued, "So if no one else ever says it, I will." He put
his other hand on her arm and softly whispered, "Thank you."
Quietly, Kiska took a long tremulous breath and smiled gratefully at him. It
seemed she was feeling more stress than even she had realized. She put a hand
on his and squeezed lightly.
And then Sean did something else she hadn't expected. Gently, he began to draw
her towards him. He was so tentative at first that she had more than enough
time to understand what he was doing and could back away if she wished.
She didn't. Inch by inch, Sean Merrick pulled Kiska Saxman into his embrace.
As though moving through a dream, she slowly brought her own arms up and placed
them around his waist. Pressing into him, she lay her head on his chest and
began to listen to his heartbeat.
They stood silently that way for at least a minute: Kiska letting the slow rise
and fall of Sean's chest and his light stroking of her raven hair sooth her
exhausted body and mind.
Sean, for his part, could only guess at what Kiska was feeling. But he knew
what he felt. It had been so very long since he had held a woman this way. It
was like a man dying of thirst coming upon a pool in a desert oasis. He drank
her in: the warm
softness of her cheek and bosom against him, her silken hair under one hand, the
curve of her hip in his other, the trusting grip of her arms about his waist,
and the light fragrance of her perfume.
It must be, he mused, what it would feel like to take hold of the gate bars at
the threshold of heaven. An eager anticipation rose quickly within him. He
thought wryly at how the metaphor naturally extended: he was at the gates of
paradise and so badly wanted in ... inside her.
Ruthlessly, he pushed the flood of erotic notions back where they belonged.
They had no place here today and not for a good while after.
But once bidden, he could not stop the flow of blood to a certain member of his
anatomy that lay against her abdomen. He hoped to God that she wouldn't notice,
but in their full body embrace it was pretty impossible to miss. But, he
reasoned, Kiska wasn't a naive girl and as long as he didn't move ...
She turned slightly in his arms, jolting him. To his utter astonishment, she
looked up into his flushed cheeks with a glimmering smile, put her hands to the
back of his head, and pulled him down into a full deep kiss.
It was a sweet and tender kiss: passionate without being erotic and Sean
returned it with what he hoped was a restrained but clear hunger for her. When
finally she withdrew, Kiska gazed into his eyes with an indescribable mixture of
hope, joy, and admiration.
Sean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Normally after such a
kiss he would have said "I love you," but this was their first time. Somehow it
seemed inappropriate to say, "I'm massively infatuated with you and wish I
didn't have religious qualms about making love to you right now like a crazed
weasel."
So he said nothing as she slipped out from beneath his hands. But as he ogled
her swaying hips while she slowly walk back to the "ward", he found his voice
again.
"Kiska," he called lowly so as not to draw attention, "How about dinner at my
place? Thursday 1930. Buttered pepper salmon and wild rice."
Smiling brightly, she nodded. "I'll be there," she said, and went off back to
her work.
***
A short time later Sean asked the doc directly, "Stile, any progress?"
Corbett who was busy testing out another combination of plant life and sampling
of Kiska's blood, spared a half glance, saw who had come, sighed, and stopped
what he was doing. Could it be that the glib physician was worried too? Maybe
the man cared more than he would ever admit.
"Sean, I found a cure for the Gorn," he said with an ominous lack of enthusiasm.
He checked in the direction of the patients to be no one was within earshot.
"It won't be enough to cure all the Gorn. Four or five at most. The healthiest
ones." He closed his eyes against Sean's shocked reaction, took his hat off for
a moment, and rubbed at his scalp.
"What?" Sean probed apprehensively. "What else?"
Replacing his hat, Stile continued gravely, "Sean, I'm sorry. Getting the cure
will involve significant risk to LT Saxman's life."
NRPG: Can't have a Star Trek romance where at least one member in the couple is
not at risk of dying right? More about the cure next post. I'm harmonizing it
with what we know happened so far.
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
Sent from my iPod
Retrieved from "http://boi.alt-starfleet-rpg.com/Special:MobileDiff/27954"