1038: His Girl Friday

By William Lindsay and Keiran O'Sullivan
100205.02
Awhile after Consider the Possibilities

-=/\=-

"A dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up."
~Mae West

-=/\=-


-=Headquarters of Temporal Investigations: Earth=-


In this beautiful room in this building of meaningless opulence Denise Moreno was busy at work.

Even given William Lindsay’s relaxed approach to it all and fairly undemanding nature-- especially so compared to men like Jonas Vox-- there was always something to do in this position where she now found herself again.

The basics came down to directing other people’s correspondence; she was to send it through to Will or, if from him, to wherever it was meant to go. Often she found herself having to take a few sentences and being expected to turn it magically into an official looking statement or instruction to send out in order that it may have its effect on the galaxy.

Though even she was not old enough for it to have ever been normal for her she chose to work silently at her desk with a keypad rather than by voice interface because there was something she didn’t care for about spending all day speaking without getting any response except from the computer’s repeating of her words. Instead there was naught but the sound of tired, now slightly arthritic old fingers clicking quickly on the keys. The sound was if nothing else familiar; and in a place where so little was permanent every bit of familiarity one could come by was a small gift in and of itself.

Lifetimes ago, it seemed, she’d realised she’d been with Temporal Investigations for too many years. Yet, here she remained.

She’d been moved around from place to place like that old barely comfortable chair in any office they’re not quite ready to throw out yet even if no one’s volunteering to have it. Yet now here she was again; back at this beautiful hardwood desk in front of the director’s new office. She did spend much of her life here surrounded by luxury, but much like having happiness all around you the appeal of that slowly faded with the realisation it wasn’t your own.

Denise didn’t have a lot to call her own. Much of what she did have was little more than the sweet decorative trinkets like that a child might buy their mother that she kept in her drawer; just out of the way so no one would see. She had no family and this place hadn’t allowed her much time for friends and certainly never for love. Others made time but shyness was her curse; the heavy burden carried through her youth and independence was the curse carried through the rest of what felt like a very long life. It was never that she didn’t want anything more but simply that as the years had gone on she’d come to accept that she wouldn’t get it.

The sweet young girl who’d never been game to attend the dance had too long ago become the tough old woman who’d sit and watch all the men choosing those much younger and prettier than she. She realised that her time had passed though at some moments she actually had some glimmer of hope still; moments she’d often dismiss as pathetic later. Still, at least the work here kept her busy; even though she would always eventually return to the sad realisation that the same work that she turned to in the end for comfort had been the main thing that prevented her from finding true solace and her place in this life.

Rarely could she have any respite from the ever constant clacking of her fingers melding into the silence, except when she reached out to grab a drink of water from the bottle she kept on the floor beside her perfectly empty desk. She did however allow herself the occasional sad indulgence to look up from her screen and out across this so often empty room, where people only came to sit and wait and always seemed to sit in the furthest seat from her.

All the seats were empty now; just as she’d known they had to be because it’d been some time since she’d spoken with anyone. In addition to the rest of her work she was expected to greet anyone here; nothing meaningful, simply a few words offering them something to drink and apologising as though it were her fault that they’d have to wait five minutes even though if not for her they’d be waiting thirty. With no one here to apologise to Denise returned to her work and the clacking resumed.

She had always been good at organising what had to be organised, at keeping other people’s lives going on time. Perhaps that was why she’d always been someone else’s assistant, either arranging the affairs of one person or a team while simultaneously being expected to lead them when they were lost for what to do. Few saw her as an important part in this machine even though she was expected to be the part that made it work. Still, she accepted that an assistant she must always be because if they were to put someone like her in charge there’d be no need for assistants anymore and no one would have anything to do.

She’d found that it really did take a certain type of person to go far in a place like this. There was an arrogance required for it given young people especially liked to think of those in charge as being almost like gods, which they may as well have been for all the power they wielded over people’s lives, and so to take the job from them required you to think you were ready and worthy to enter the league of such erroneously perceived titans. For most this was a sign of a truly hopeless being but for some it could not be without its own redemption.

William Lindsay did possess a cockiness about him usually reserved for a much younger man before it was eaten away by his failures; failures from which Lindsay was doubtlessly no exception. However this assurance brought with it the continuation of the naïve presumption of youth that no cause was beyond saving or foe beyond defeating and that meant that Will would never give up without doing what he’d been sent here to do. That was why she wanted, why she needed, to take on this job.

So she continued with her lonely work as the day was taken away from her. Hours passed and though she patched through many calls no one bothered to come here in person. Will was the only one who actually managed to look her in the eye today and that was just to tell her his plans for where he’d meet with his guests, who he’d said he thought would be able to help, when they arrived. Evidently he didn’t wish to risk broadcasting to them to simply beam into that location as it may have been intercepted but regulations required security be informed about it in advance so she’d sent them the information after he’d told her where; to a brand new account name just established today.

She swore no one was nearly this worried about security ten years ago though with so little having changed they probably should have been. He’d also offered to bring her something back after lunch which though she’d refused the offer had made her smile for the first time today; he was definitely one of the good ones.

Finally now she looked up again to see two people; one human male and one Bajoran female, having just beamed in and standing now before her.

There was something gentle about the human; especially in his eyes, whereas there was something not quite so gentle about the woman at his side.

The pair exchanged a quick glance the moment they once again took solid form; as if silently and gratefully cataloguing away the fact that they'd both beamed over intact. Considering that glance, Denise had no doubt they were here together as more than just fellow officers.

She had studied other people’s love for years and there was something in the way that even without touching they moved towards her in exactly even steps side by side that said they’d walked together often before. Then she noticed the matching rings they wore and it was all confirmed and she knew now who they were and just what danger they could bring.

“May I help you, Captains Zanh and O’Sullivan?” Denise asked, surprised how almost meekly it came out as she hadn’t spoken in so long.

They exchanged a look as if to each ask if the other knew how she’d known who they were; they wondered if this was the one person Will had spoken of trusting.

“Your respective and joint reputations are very well known around here still.” Denise quickly explained, gaining her full voice back. “Even out of uniform I know you must be Starfleet or else you wouldn’t be here. I also figured there weren’t that many couples in Starfleet made up of a Bajoran woman and an Irishman. I take it I wasn’t mistaken?”

Denise then pointed to Keiran’s ring to say why she thought he was Irish and O’Sullivan seemed lightly amused at her reasoning. He could see why Will would want someone like this around even if he had to admit to a degree of surprise that Will would have the maturity to recognise the benefit of this woman’s having had time to reach some level of maturity.

“No, yer not mistaken.” Keiran answered with some small laughter, letting his accent confirm her suspicions as well as any more detailed answer could.

Denise smiled slightly at his answer though it quickly went away, especially so when she looked over and remembered that Liis was here. It wasn’t that she had anything personal against Liis but it was simply a fault that years of feeling rejected could leave her reacting rather bitterly to a younger woman who’d gained such acceptance.

“I understand you’re here to meet with Director Lindsay,” Denise said with a poorly hidden coldness directed towards Liis that, had someone not understood the old woman beyond just cursory observation, would have made them think she were jealous of other women getting near Will. Really she was just plain jealous with no one in particular to be jealous of.

“That’s right,” Liis answered evenly, confused by Denise’s tone but not about to challenge her over it. "...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Zanh stepped forward, offering her hand in the standard human gesture of greeting. She did so even knowing full well that the reason she didn't catch the name was because it had not been given.

“My…?” Denise started, thinking she must have misheard Liis because around here if you didn’t have it stuck up on your door then no one cared to ask your name. Still, she quickly realised she hadn’t and instead started to internally question not if it’d been asked but why. “Ensign Denise Moreno…”

“Ensign Moreno." (I feel Liis would try to show her she respected her position in the agency by referring to her by rank, change if you wish) Zanh nodded to her as she finally released her hand. "Is Captain Lindsay in? We didn’t arrange an exact time but he just asked us to beam down when we arrived.”

“No, actually he didn’t want you to meet him here,” Denise explained as courteously as she could, fighting any natural urge to be act like Liis should have known this because she knew she didn’t really want to do it and that it was just the bitterness talking. “He gave me some coordinates for you to meet him and said he’d be there when you arrived. He said he’d prefer it if you went there by way of your own ship, the Serendipity’s, transporter.”

Again Liis and Keiran exchanged a look, Will was being more cautious than they realised if he was worried even about the transporters here.

“Alright,” Liis said concerned that Will would be so concerned. “In that case I’ll need you to transmit those coordinates to the ship.”

“It’s done.” Denise said, having finished with her keyboard and sent the required information up to the ship before Liis had even finished her sentence.

Keiran nodded his thanks to her but Liis more eyed her uncertainly as they both stepped back then Liis hit her combadge.

“Zanh to Parrish,” she started “you should just have received some coordinates.”

[Yes, Sir. I see them now.]

“Please beam O’Sullivan and I to those coordinates…” Liis continued but Keiran stopped her, putting a hand on her arm as if to ask her to wait “…on my signal.”

[Aye sir.]

Keiran nodded his thanks to Liis as he approached Denise again, wondering if she might be able to give him some insight into what was going on even if he couldn’t ask her outright.

“Is there anything you can tell us about where we’re goin’?” He asked softly.

“I’m afraid not.” Denise answered in a much more charming tone for the Irishman than the Bajoran. “They’re in the city but I don’t know much beyond that.”

Keiran accepted this, though he suspected Denise was the type of woman who often knew more than she let on.

“Thanks anyway, yeah?” He gave her a half smile, and said "I thank ya for yer discretion and care in lookin' after William."

“I’m afraid there’s only so much anyone can do to keep the director out of trouble,” Denise answered lightly, realising that Keiran was not the sort of man with whom she’d have to be too formal about how she spoke of Will. “However I do try my best.”

While at the start of her sentence her words had seemed almost playful there was a seriousness that had fallen over them by the end. It was something Keiran understood because as much as you could joke about the trouble a man like William Lindsay could get into you still couldn’t completely pretend it wasn’t there.

“Aye,” He replied slowly, neither ignoring nor drawing attention to Denise’s tone “that’s all any of us can do.”

For a few seconds she stared, seeing how much he truly understood before finally Denise smiled again at him and was almost ready to return to her work when she decided there was something she simply had to ask.

“Look, I don’t know a lot of what’s going on here and it may not be my place to ask.” Denise started cautiously, knowing that it the phrase ‘it never hurt to ask’ was rarely entirely truthful. “However, do you really think you can make a difference?”

Keiran simply shook his head in a gesture that he couldn’t answer as he stepped back to Liis who was still eyeing Denise as she hit her badge again.

“Energize.”

Then Liis and Keiran dematerialised and when they reformed they found themselves to be in the centre of a turn of the century drinking establishment.

The turn of which century was the question.

It was in a style reminiscent of early twenty-fourth with a sparse feel and little decoration to be seen but with something almost like mould where the roof met the simultaneously pale and faded wall that looked to be at least twenty-third while the lack of windows or artificial lighting looked closer to the nineteenth.

The air wasn’t dusty but it was stale, like air that had feel filled with the smoke of celebratory cigars in more prosperous times then had been trapped here as the customers dwindled away to be only released in the slightest increments into the world as the single barkeeper opened the door at the start and at the end of his day.

With many tables and a lengthy bar this place looked like it could have supported hundreds of customers and dozens of staff in its prime. Now there were no customers to be seen though with the discretion brought by the height of the backs between the booths that lined the walls it was possible some were hidden from their view. In fact there were three such people here. The only staff member that remained behind the bar, dressed in the plainest of possible clothes and with a skeptical eye already upon them, looked like he’d been young when this place was and then simply never left it.

Almost as if forgetting who exactly he was thinking about here Keiran actually felt worried for Liis in a place like this. Consciously he knew she was more than likely a danger to anyone who might confront her here or anywhere else, deep down he knew they could still be a danger to her. Given this concern he moved towards the barkeeper first.

“Excuse me, I'm lookin' for. . .” Keiran asked politely.

"Do I look like a bloody computer console?" The man huffed, slapping his damp dishrag down onto the counter and sweeping it across. "If you're lookin' for somebody, friend, you'll have to find ‘em yourself."

Keiran stood taller with his shoulders back, and Liis sighed, rolling her eyes at him. She really, really hated what she was about to do but they really didn't have time for this. If the coordinates were at all off and Will wasn't here or he was in hiding because he feared for his safety, they had to find out if this was a dead end or there were leads to be had.

She turned to Keiran and put her hand up in a gesture that said ‘wait’.

Quickly, she shoved her hand into her pocket, pulling off her wedding rings momentarily and leaving them there before she lowered the black leather jacket from her arms and handed it to the now gaping O'Sullivan.

The tank top she wore beneath bared her arms and just enough of her shoulder to show the edge of her tattoo.

It also bared just enough of her cleavage she was certain to get them the information they needed. She sighed, muttering something about hating Will with all her heart in this moment, and then she sidled up to the bar.

Leaning forward over it to take advantage of every possible angle to gain the bartender's undivided attention, she smiled at him. She propped an elbow on the bar and her chin against it, eyes flashing at him flirtatiously, beckoning him closer.

He laughed in a manner he thought charming though in fact he was sadly mistaken. "And what can I do for you, darlin'?" he asked, leaning so close that Liis' nearly gagged from the combination of stale coffee and chewing tobacco that congealed in his breath.

"You...come on, come here. Don’t be shy. Come closer a little and I'll tell you exactly what you can do for me," Liis smiled even more broadly, and she waited until the man was leering at her closely enough for her to reach up and grab a handful of the chest hair that stuck out from the top of his shirt.

He yelped in pain as she yanked him closer and continued in a low, seething growl. "You can tell me where the Scot is, you licentious little troll, or next I will introduce you face first to this bar."

"Okay! Okay!" he whimpered, and Liis released him. "There's a door, round this way. He's waitin' for you in the back room.” She released him and nodded. “He wasn't kidding about you, was he?" the man mumbled, jumping as she lunged back at him again to warn that she was still within earshot and irritated enough to inflict serious injury.

Keiran looked at Liis nervously, worried this could be an ambush.

Liis reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out some latinum and threw it to the man. "For your trouble." She nodded to Keiran and he helped her put her jacket back on. She reached into her pocket and restored her rings to their rightful spot again before moving on.

“Thank you.” Keiran mumbled, not prepared to say nothing at all, before they started moving in the direction they’d been pointed.

“Do you have any idea why Will chose here of all places?” Liis quietly asked as they passed two men, also in civilian clothing pretending not to see them walking by.

“It’s discreet.” Keiran answered just as quietly as if in fear a loud noise might finally truly break the eerie silence in this place. “And I doubt anyone’d think ta look fer him here.”

Finally they moved through the small door to the back room which seemed to be set up for some kind of illegal gaming activities, and reached the end of the row and found Will say in the booth beside them; looking tired but apparently better for the beer he held in his hand.

“’Tis good to see you both.” Will said, as he gestured for them to take the side of the booth across from him. “I take it ya met Denise before ya came here.”

"The ray of sunlight? Yes, we've had the pleasure." Liis replied, as she plunked down into a chair opposite the Director of Temporal Investigations.

-----
Captain William Lindsay
Interim Director
Temporal Investigations

and

-=/\=- Keiran O'Sullivan
Security Liaison to
The Alchemy Project
and
Former Temporal Investigations Agent