by Michael Blakeney and Gemini Lassiter
90519.19
Concurrent with Malevolent
Soundtrack: Looking as You Are, by Embrace
-=/\=-
Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it.
~Jean de La Fontaine
-=/\=-
-=Guest Quarters: USS Gauntlet=-
90519.19
Concurrent with Malevolent
Soundtrack: Looking as You Are, by Embrace
-=/\=-
Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it.
~Jean de La Fontaine
-=/\=-
-=Guest Quarters: USS Gauntlet=-
After being diagnosed with symptoms that could only be attributed to a severe case of sleep deprivation, Gemini Lassiter had no choice but to submit to the demands of the Gauntlet's Chief Medical Officer and agree to taking a sedative.
She had gone completely without anything close to restorative sleep for days now, and she had to admit, even if only to herself, that at times she truly felt that she may finally have lost her mind.
Only after hearing from Zanh Liis that the Zenith had been found could she even begin to think of allowing herself to surrender to the needs of her body. Needs that, as strong as her will to deny them was, she may only be able to meet with the help of potent, modern, chemical intervention.
Now she was aboard the fastest ship she could find and flying at highest possible Warp toward the location of both ships. Even though she knew that Nick would not be there when she arrived- unless a miracle were to happen in the next forty hours- at least, she'd be closer to where he'd last been seen.
Maybe she could find it; that something that the others were overlooking.
She desperately needed to find something. To see something. To do something to help find Nicholas and bring him safely home.
She lay quietly in bed in the quarters that felt much more empty due to their size than they did luxurious, given her current state of mind.
She took the hypo that the CMO had prepared for her and pressed it against her arm. She felt a cold sensation travel up the length of her arm and down to her hand as the canister hissed, slowly expelling its potent contents.
I hope this is a hell of a lot more effective than the Macallan turned out to be.
She felt a little lightheaded as she leaned back into the pillow, and struggled to raise the hypo and set it upon the bedside table. Suddenly her arms felt too heavy to lift, her eyes too sore to hold open a moment longer. Her hand sank back onto the bed, and the hypo fell from languid fingers and came to a rest on the mattress beside her.
She hoped, at the very least, that sleep of this sort would stop the memories. If only for a little while.
Nothing else had, to this point, been able to keep them at bay. She'd spent the first night drinking Scotch and remembering all the while still trying to forget. About him, about the short span of time in which she'd lived a very different life, all of it.
Try as she had, though, once the news had come about Nicholas going missing, she found that nothing stopped the memories completely.
She quickly found she was unable to shut them off or shut them out; a side effect she was certain from the true terror she felt inside at the thought that Nicholas may be lost to her forever.
Just as his father was.
As she closed her eyes, she uttered a silent prayer to what she was certain were heavens around her devoid of any listening ear. That belief didn't stop her, even so, from asking that if anyone was listening, that she be spared at least one night, tonight. One hour, even without having to remember in sleep what she fought so hard to deny when she was awake.
Her breathing slowed, and her head lolled gently to the side as she succumbed to sleep, and to the dreams that it brought with it.
-=2357, Current Timeline: Residence of Gemini Lassiter=-
Unable to stop the sudden wave of shuddering tremors that overtook her body as she realized how cold she really was, Gem decided that she had to think. She couldn't do anything until she had a plan. She couldn't formulate a plan until she was warm enough to devise a list of orderly and methodical next steps, and she couldn't begin to devise that list until she could once again feel her toes.
Grateful to finally shed the freezing, unforgiving second skin that her clinging dress had become, she moved into the shower. She closed her eyes, and she let her head fall back against the wall with a dull thud.
Her mind went completely blank for a moment. One moment turned into ten, then twenty, and before she realized it she'd completed three cycles of the sonic shower and could still only just barely feel her feet beneath her.
It would have to be enough.
She wrapped a towel around her for warmth even though not truly needed to dry off with, and stepped out of the enclosure.
It was just as she was about to leave the bathroom in search of fresh clothing that she heard the noise. A rustling sound, a metallic clatter, and then more rustling.
She reached into a drawer in the vanity and pulled out a small, though particularly evil little knife. Unfolding the blade from the handle, she then turned back to the shower, turning it on for another cycle so whomever may be in her apartment would think she'd changed her mind and gone back inside.
Slowly, she stole around the corner.
When she looked up, she could not believe what she saw.
He was standing in her kitchen, dressed in the most unbelievably fussy looking blue blazer she'd ever seen in her life. He was searching through the utensil drawer as if his being there was the most natural, and expected thing in the world.
On the counter sat a bottle of wine and two glasses. He apparently hadn't been a bit fooled by the 'turning the shower back on' act because he seemed to fully expect her to be standing there and didn't even turn to face her as he asked, "Gem, love, where would one find your corkscrew?"
Before she could answer, he finally rotated around to face her and took note of the weapon in her hand. "Ah! Never mind. This will work just fine." He took the knife in an instant and her hand just hung in the air, unmoving, as did her jaw.
Michael Blakeney, or whoever the hell he really was, had apparently saved her the trouble of searching for him by coming to find her himself. That begged the question, bottle of wine notwithstanding, what did he want from her?
Swiftly, with one certain movement he stabbed the blade into the cork, twisted and pulled it out. He examined his work and seemed pleased with himself that he hadn't damaged the cork during the extrication process. "I'm so adaptable." He winked at her and flashed her a wicked grin very much like the one he'd worn earlier in the evening at the reception. "I must say, the dress you had on before was lovely but this? This is even better."
Gem’s hand dropped down quickly to take hold of and ensure the towel was secure. She immediately regretted that she'd not taken a few seconds to throw on a uniform and possibly a phaser before she confronted him. Her eyes cut between where Michael was standing and the nearest companel. She was daring him to get in her way but at first he seemed not to notice.
Then a look of feigned concern passed over his face. “What? You don’t like it?” he asked sounding worried, then paused, before happily adding “You’d better take it off then. I’ll gladly offer my assistance.”
He’d filled the glasses with the wine and was moving towards her with one glass extended in her direction. Now Gem was getting angry, her eyes squinted to a look that by rights should kill and her voice took on a threatening tone. “If you come anywhere near me then I promise you that you won't like what happens next.”
“I don’t know about that.” Michael said with a suggestive smile, “I have pretty varied tastes.”
At that moment she’d have knocked both of the glasses out of his hands if she didn’t think it’d stain; she was still wondering whether it wasn’t worth doing anyway. She wasn’t about to play his game anymore.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m here to give you a hand,” Michael suggested as he pushed a glass towards her. "Or two, if you prefer..."
“Keep your hands off of me,” she warned, stepping back and once again confirming that the towel was still securely fastened.
“Interesting that that’s the first place your mind went.” Michael paused, briefly taking the time to appear to be considering what it meant as he finally accepted that she wasn’t taking her glass and placed them both down on a nearby table. “Actually though I’m here on more official business.”
“Official business?” Gem again narrowed her eyes skeptically, there was nothing official about this man and there was clearly only one type of business on his mind.
“Yes, well it seems pretty official to me.” Michael said, taking further steps towards her and seeming not to notice as she stepped around him so now she was closer to the companel “There’s more to the ambassador’s attempted assassination than we know. Someone needs to look into it.”
“I see,” said Gem, not believing for a minute that he was simply offering his help with an investigation “And you think that someone should be you?”
“I think that someone should be us.” he corrected with a smile that said he didn’t see any limits on what that term meant as he resumed walking towards her.
“There is no us,” Gem asserted, taking an equal step back for every one he took forward.
“Of course there is.” Michael replied dismissively, at last giving up walking as he saw she had no intention of letting him come any closer. “We’re both agents.”
Gem still didn’t believe that. Thinking about it, she really didn’t think it was an accident that he showed up and she almost immediately lost contact with headquarters. She was still unsure of what he wanted. Unsure of why, if he’d had something to do with the assassination attempt, that he’d want to be involved in the investigation. It was possible he just wanted to steer her in the wrong direction, but if she had found evidence that he was involved then coming here would have been a huge risk.
“You’ve seen my credentials,” Michael observed. He knew that she was smart enough to know that they didn’t necessarily mean all that much but officially she still had to accept them and he was happy about that.
“Yes,” she replied sharply, realising the knife from before was now in reach of her hand in case she needed it. “And I’ve also seen you disappear into thin air in a way impossible to trace with the agency’s best technology.”
“Now, how would you know that?” Michael asked, once again wearing the grin that infuriated her; knowing full well that she’d tried to track him but also wanting her to know that he knew it.
She wasn’t about to confirm that she’d been trying to follow him; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “It doesn’t matter what you want anyway.” She shrugged, changing the subject. “In case you haven’t heard I’ve been suspended. Taken off the case. I’m not allowed to go anywhere near Braylan or Temporal Investigations.”
“Really…?” Michael asked, curious as that was not supposed to happen, but shaking it off quickly. “I don’t think that will be a problem. There’s no reason to go into headquarters, and I doubt the ambassador arranged for his own assassination so he’s out as a suspect.”
As angry as she was with Michael, Gem was suddenly feeling a whole lot angrier with herself for putting up with his unwelcome presence for as long as she had. “This is crazy,” she objected, taking further steps back towards the panel “I don't care who you are or what agency you work fir, you can’t just show up in my kitchen.”
“You’re right,” Michael agreed, moving to intercept her. “I can’t just show up. But to be fair, what I actually did was show up with wine.”
Gem did not find this remotely amusing. She felt ridiculous at the moment, standing in her kitchen wearing nothing but a towel and speaking with this man when she should have been in the field, wearing a uniform and hauling him in for questioning. She should never have let him escape in the first place and she was certain she wasn’t about to risk that happening again.
"You're absolutely right," Gem responded slowly, trying to will a smile onto lips pursed too tightly against her clenched teeth to want to move. "And I haven't been very hospitable, have I? I'll tell you what, Agent Blakeney. Why don't you take those glasses into the living room and make yourself comfortable. I'll put on something more..." She held her arms out at her sides and let them fall back down again. "Something more. Then I'll replicate some cheese and crackers to go with the wine you brought and then you can tell me more about this investigation you're proposing."
"Replicated cheese, Agent Lassiter? Is that really the TI way?" Blakeney mocked her use of title and furrowed his brow as if finding the notion truly distasteful. "You aren't much of a hostess are you? I'll tell you what. Why don't we discuss everything over a late dinner instead."
Gem's thin, forced smile faded. "Don't you have any idea what time it is?" This was a question so entirely ridiculous to ask a TI agent that Blakeney actually did laugh aloud.
The sound took Gem aback, and as she recovered she added, "You know we can't discuss this sort of thing out in the open in public."
"Who said anything about going out in public?" Blakeney flashed mischievous blue eyes at her again, and she fought against the effect that they seemed to have on her. Somehow, under the scrutiny of those eyes she felt a lot more exposed than even her current attire should account for.
He seemed instantly and acutely aware of this, and also quite pleased with himself. Still, he had to be careful. He needed her if his mission was going to be successful- and if he burned so quickly the frail bridge of good will he'd just begun to build between them, then he'd be in more trouble than he wanted to think about.
"Nothing is open this time of night. Nothing that...you'd probably like anyway. With your fancy, noble tastes. In fact I'm sure that-"
Suddenly, the look in his eyes changed. Just for a second, anger flashed; freezing cold across formerly warm irises, turning them to ice.
"Don't call me that," he blurted impulsively, without thinking. Which was how he said most of the things that indicated any sort of real truth about him. If he thought about anything too long somehow it always all got convoluted. Emotions, thoughts, desires, and actions, all tangled together.
In the lapse, the truth had a tendency to mutate. It altered into the most convenient sort of lie; one that served his purposes surely, but more certainly served to hide his true nature.
"What did I say?" She looked, for an instant, truly concerned about his reaction but the flicker of emotion was quickly replaced again by the stone facade that normally encased her.
"That word. Noble. It's one that I happen to hate." He turned and started walking toward the door rather quickly.
"Wait!" She rushed after him, reaching out for his arm but having to abandon the attempt to slow his steps; hurrying instead to grasp hold of the top of her towel as the end started to slip loose. She tucked it back in before any more of her skin was exposed, but still, color came to her face.
Suddenly he realized that by turning the tables and appearing angry- whether he genuinely had been or not, had upset her balance and now he had the upper hand.
She might dislike him, hell, she may hate him, he mused, but he was smart enough to know that she realized that for now, she needed him as well.
"Where are you going?" She inquired at last. "We haven't discussed the investigation yet."
"I was just going to get our dinner." He fought to suppress the inward smile that once again improved his mood, and the satisfaction of knowing that on some level, he was already getting to her. "What sort of woman are you, Gem? Rare, medium, or well done?"
She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your steak. How do you like it? Rare...medium..." The grin reappeared, slowly spread across his face. "Or well done?"
"Medium well." She stammered. "But where are you going to-"
"I know a little place." He stopped, glancing back at her; looking her up and down once more and thinking it a pity that when he came back she'd be wearing more clothing, which was to him clearly a step in the wrong direction.
"Go on. Get dressed before you catch cold. I'll be back within the hour."
The moment he was gone, Gem marched straight back to the kitchen.
She observed the cork on the counter where he'd left it, and picked it up and held it for a moment in her hand. She analyzed the glass of wine, then examined the bottle. It was the real thing.
The question remained, was the man who had brought it the real thing as well?
She turned to a nearby cupboard and reached for something a bit stronger than wine.
Taking a shot of the dark liquid, she closed her eyes.
"Well done." She scoffed, wondering what the hell she was really getting herself into.
---------------------
Lt. Commander Michael Blakeney
Starfleet
and
//// Gemini Lassiter
Director, The Alchemy Project
And former Temporal Investigations Agent
Lt. Commander Michael Blakeney
Starfleet
and
//// Gemini Lassiter
Director, The Alchemy Project
And former Temporal Investigations Agent