Straightening her jacket, Kami sensed irritation emanating from Argo. Looking up at the man she said quietly, “I won’t tear him down Commander. I happen to have some experience with drunk and belligerent trouble makers. I’ll keep it short and see to it he finds his rack.”
Argo motioned over his shoulder signaling the small smattering of pilots to leave. A pair stopped at Jeff's table and lifted the limp form of Lieutenant Kaplan. Jeff looked about to protest the move when Argo called out to him, “We'll take care of her Knight. You can call her in the morning.” The drunken commander grinned and woozily pointed a finger at Argo and Kami herself. Bending at the shoulders, Argo softly reiterated, “The man’s just had his guts wrenched out Commander. Please remember that.” Stiffly, he straightened and followed the men carrying Kaplan from the room.
Tamping down irritation at Argo’s frank tone Kami, took a deep breath before slowly walking across the room to join Jeff at his table. Brushing away a puddle left by his former companion, she took the seat across from Jeff as slight pang of sympathy briefly flittered through her at the sight of his wretched state. It was quickly eclipsed by a disgust she barely reigned in as she watched him slosh more liquor onto the table than actually into the glass before her. Gingerly lifting the vessel, she took a cursory sip. Whiskey, she thought as the harsh liquid burned her throat.
“Not like that!” Jeff corrected throwing his head back and draining the contents of his own glass in a quick gulp. “You’ve gotta slam it Kami,” he punctuated slapping the empty glass down with a loud crack.
Deciding to humor him, she mimicked the display, erupting in a coughing wheeze as the rot gut brought tears to her eyes. Jeff broke out in a deep throated cackle of a laugh seeming pleased with her response. Opening her mouth intent on bringing him down a peg Jeff cut her off saying, “That first shot’s always the worst,” and then tilted the bottle dangerously at her intent on pouring another round. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed it finishing the job for him while he clumsily pulled a cigarette from the half soaked pack lying on the table. After he tried several times in vain to light the thing, she made a vexed sound, growling softly deep in her throat. Reaching over she steadied his hand as he took a deep drag.
Blowing out a grey blue cloud, his wavering gaze fell on his hand. A hand still held almost tenderly by hers. Snatching it back, Kami felt her cheeks redden. Attempting to cover her embarrassment, she quickly picked up her glass saying, “That’s a filthy habit Commander.”
Jeff wheezed a raspy laugh reaching for the bottle. “You sound like my Mom.” He smiled attempting, so far as she could tell, to look her in the eye. “She’d like you. You’re…spunky.” Caught off guard, she sat, mouth agape, as he continued, “She used to call me her little prank… purrank…” A troubled look filled his face as he tried to sound out the word. “Prankster! Yeah, that’s it. Said I’d need to find someone who’d not be able to take my shit.” A look of confusion swam in his eyes a moment. “I mean put up with my shit.” Leaning forward, he added in a whisper, “She didn’t say shit, but I know she was thinking it.” Sloshing another puddle onto the table while filling his glass he quickly drained it again. “Some…someone like Laura. Now she’s a cutie. Curtis is one lucky bastard.”
From there Jeff began to regale her with tales of Curtis for several hours, all the while continuing to force glass after glass of whiskey down both of their throats. The stories didn’t seem to follow any pattern of chronology, though most focused on their years in the academy and the variety of antics they’d found themselves in. As the time, and liquor, wore on, Kami soon found herself smiling, and laughing at the sometimes sordid tales. Many of her suspicions about the crass, sometimes belligerent, commander were verified as if he had no recollection of exactly who he was speaking with. Strangely enough however, the seemingly endless accounts of irresponsible or downright juvenile actions, including those directed solely at her, didn’t illicit her usual rigid responses. In fact, she slowly began filing the stories away as amusing anecdotes about a very complex and intriguing individual. Instead of the jack fool fighter jock she frequently thought of him as, she found a person who dealt with the weight of duty and adversity in unorthodox ways. A man who attempted to insulate his sanity through a form of escapism in an effort to mitigate the constant reminders of the frightening consequences one simple mistake could make. A thought undoubtedly shared by every pilot onboard whom consistently placed their lives in peril.
The ships public address system called out a shift rotation prompting Kami to glance at her watch. Zero Two Hundred, she groaned and attempted to push herself up from the table. She hadn’t noticed how much she drank until that moment when her legs failed her returning her to the chair with a thump. Trying to clear her head, she looked at Jeff saying, “Okay Commander, we’ve had enough fun for one night. I’m at my limit and I’m quite sure you’re well passed yours.”
Attempting to blow a raspberry at her Jeff retorted, “Fu…Fuck you! I haven’t even started.”
Tugging on her jacket, Kami decided to be a tad more firm. “Commander Grant. It’s high time you found your rack. Now are you going to allow me to help you or am I going to drag you?”
Anger flashed across his face in obvious response to her tone. “I’m not finished yet, Commander!” he grated. “In fact, you’re not finished either.” The look of pain hidden beneath the drunkenness was evident in his eyes. “I want you…I want you to know,” he stammered, his voice taking on a heated edge. Clumsily he stumbled to his feet shouting, “You’re the reason we’re in this mess!”
The alcohol clouding her mind drove all thoughts of reason from Kami's head. Her emotions taking over, she instantly forgot the heartfelt lament he’d all too recently poured out and slapped the table with vigor. “You belligerent drunken lout!” she growled. “To think I was beginning to believe there was a shred of decency and honor in you.”
Leaning forward, Jeff barely caught himself from falling by grabbing the edge of the table. Shuffling a hand to grasp his glass, his eyes bore daggers upon her. In a raspy near whisper he mumbled, “You want people to blindly obey your orders. Is that what you think honor is Commander?” Kami attempted to protest, but the drunken officer wouldn't be silenced. Ignoring her, he unsteadily straightening to his full height and raised his vessel high as if to give a toast. His eyes, glazed with inebriation, stared emptily into space for the span of a heartbeat, and upon clearing his throat gruffly, he slurred more than recited,
“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
The bile Kami felt seemed to lessen after Jeff’s sloppy display of culture. “Tennyson.” She smirked. “I’m impressed. Charge of the Light Brigade?”
As if he just remembered her presence, Jeff looked at her askance mumbling, “The only thing sadder than a battle won…is a battle lost.” Dropping his arm as if it now contained a lead weight, the glass slipped from his hand bouncing loudly off the table top. Stumbling backward his knees appeared to buckle. Down he went to the floor with a crash sending the chair behind him tumbling across the room.
Kami jumped to her feet pressing a hand to her chest, an odd sensation of worry riding roughshod across her stomach. Steadying herself against the table, she slowly stepped around watching what looked to be a broken man sitting in a heap on the cold deck plates. Something about the low sobs emanating from Jeff tugged at her heart and a desire to comfort him in his grief began to grow.
“I couldn’t save him,” he rasped quietly, clenching his fists, and resting his forehead upon them. As Kami rounded the table, she could see the droplets of tears rolling off the tip of his nose. Gingerly she reached out. Kneeling down she delicately pl
aced her hands on his shoulders. This wasn’t the man she remembered arguing with over and over. The man she’d called down for behavior constantly, despised for special treatment, derided for extreme disregard of almost every regulation in the book. That man was left outside the Victoria’s hull. That man seemed to die when the razor he was flying exploded. What sat before her now was a person of such passion, that all her previous conceptions were dispersed like a puff of smoke.
“I couldn’t save him Kami,” Jeff sobbed again. Shuffling closer, the coarse deck plates dug into her knees. The sensation was a vague reflection of her heart ripping at Jeff’s defeated state. Pulling his hands back from his face, she wrapped her arms around him. “I couldn’t save him…” he continued in a horse whisper.
His tears soaked into her shoulder as she soothingly shushed him whispering, “I know. I know.” Holding him tightly to her breast, as if comforting a small child, tears of her own began forming in her eyes. “Let it out,” she whispered clinging to him. “Let it out. I know it’s hard right now. But it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Jeff pushed away from her weakly croaking, “I don’t see how.”
Wiping a tear from his slick cheek, she lost herself in the harsh sense of loss emanating from behind his bloodshot eyes. Inside of her something snapped. Either through alcohol reduced inhibitions, or some emotional tug she hadn’t felt in ages, Kami found herself, quite to her own surprise, doing something she never would have dreamed before this moment. Cupping his face, she pulled Jeff towards her and kissed him tenderly.
***
Awaking groggily, Kami rubbed a hand over her eyes. When she moved to sit up, she found something wrapped about her wait. She struggled a moment, attempting to pry loose whatever it was, when it suddenly released her from its grip. Kami squeaked and slipping from the bed landing with a thud on the cold hard deck. Head throbbing in pain, she groaned and rested it back against the edge of the rack. “Why did I drink so much,” she muttered to herself squeezing her eyes shut. They popped open again quickly at the sound of rustling sheets. Wincing, she gingerly twisted around. “Ah crap,” she rasped, blinking to clear her vision. In a heartbeat, the night of unbridled passion, and the sense of being as forward as some hussy, came flooding back through her mind. Just couldn’t be a dream could it? she chastised herself.
Rolling onto a hip, she folded her arms on the mattress to rest her chin on them. Before her, Jeff dozed in a deep contented sleep. What have you done to me? She thought idly. I come down to check on you out of a sense of responsibility, and you somehow in the course of an evening dispel every belief and instinct I had about you. Reaching out, she ran a hand across his arm. The man reflexively moaned quietly and turned to lie on his back. A small smile graced her lips as she lay there drinking in the sight of him. He was quite handsome when he wasn’t mouthing off at her.
Sighing, she came to the realization that all this time the problems the two of them had were a result of her own emotions. True, his sense of decorum needed improvement. His tendency to buck regulations did too. But the man lying before her was not her brother. Jeff didn’t take foolish risks. He knew his business and, risky or not, his actions were calculated. Not the hot shot fighter jock throwing caution to the wind. Not the irresponsible show off relying on ingrained skill and pure luck to pull his ass out of the fire. The memories of all their arguments, all their head butting, took on a new meaning. Jeff wasn’t being combative to rankle her. He was being the leader that knew far better than she what his job was about. You were right Emily, she thought both fondly and bitterly. I didn’t want to admit it. But you were right. Pushing herself up, she leaned over brushing his lips with a light kiss. “Sleep well Jeff,” she whispered, “I love you. I don’t know how, or why, but I love you.” A soft murmur she couldn’t make out answered her, followed by a slight smile that somehow promised her he shared the feeling.
Standing, she quietly collected her clothes before ducking into the attached bathroom. The reflection in the mirror punched her in the face. Blood shot eyes, surrounded by a mane of bedraggled and tangled hair, stared back at her and lent her already light complexion a starkly more pale appearance. With a quick spritz of soap with water, she made a passable job of cleaning herself up for the short journey to her own cabin where a hot shower awaited. Grabbing Jeff’s solitary comb, attempting to tame her wild mess of hair, she ultimately resigned herself to simply pull the bramble up into a semblance of an organized bun.
Shrugging into her jacket, she made a few more futile attempts to smooth over her haggard appearance, before slipping from the bathroom. Grabbing her shoes, she quietly crept across the compartment so as not to wake her slumbering partner. Partner, she thought, pausing at the hatch. Leaning on the frame she looked back at Jeff. His chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep and she smiled at the sight. “The next few weeks are going to be very interesting,” she whispered to herself. After tapping the door control, harsh white light blinded her when the hatch shifted open. She hadn’t realized how dark it was in the chamber. Dropping her eyes to the deck as they adjusted she stepped over the threshold. Sighing, she closed her eyes leaning back after the hatch hissed closed behind her.
“Good morning Commander,” someone said to her after a moment.
“Yes. It is, isn’t it,” Kami answered, lost in her own mind.
“I’m, ah, happy you kept your word. About not tearing him down and making sure he found his rack that is.” A hint of something akin to a laugh followed. “Didn’t expect you to tuck him in too however.”
“Argo!” she announced in recognition, eye’s popping open.
Smug smile and arms crossed, Lieutenant Commander James Argo leaned against the opposite bulkhead. “Happy to see you finally worked out your differences,” he taunted adding a wink for good measure.
Kami felt her face growing flush, no doubt a shade of red that would normally send any subordinates running for cover. The smile on Argo’s face only grew wider, or smugger if that was possible. Drawing down her brow she slipped on her shoes and took two steps before delivering a solid punch to his shoulder. The shot brought with it a satisfying grunt from the pilot.
“Not a word of this gets out. Do you hear me Mister?”
Rubbing the spot she decked him Argo said, “A bit too late for that Sir. You two were rather…amorous, last night?”
Kami’s next words caught in her throat, before escaping in a whisper, “How many?”
“The whole block.” Thankfully Argo had the decency to keep his voice low. “I already told everyone to keep their lips shut, but you know how scuttle is. I’m confident they won’t say anything to Knight, and downright certain they won’t approach you. But…well, news travels fast onboard ship Sir.”
“I’m aware,” Kami seethed in irritation. Looking him in the eye she said, “Tell the crew that—”
“If Knight has any questions about last night that he’ll need to take them up with you. Got it.”
“Yes,” Kami stammered, “well then. Carry on Commander.”
“Yes Sir,” Argo answered nonchalantly. Kami ignored him lost in her own thoughts. Turning she decided she needed to speak with Emily as soon as possible. Well, maybe after a shower.
CHAPTER 34:
THE LINE IS DRAWN
Sitting in the wardroom, James quietly pushed the food on his plate around with a fork. The murmur of conversation washed over him as he continued to absently study the eggs before him. “Whatcha thinking about?” Joanne’s unmistakable voice brought him out of his musings.
“I won the pool,” he said looking up at her.
A smile split Joanne’s face at the news. “Really? I’d never have guessed that,” she said taking the seat across from him. “By the look on your face I’d say something's troubling you. That or you have it out for those eggs.”
“Just not really hungry I guess,” he sighed letting the fork fall to the plate.
“In that case, do you mind?”
/> Smiling he pushed the tray towards her. Without hesitation Joanne was shoveling the yellow contents greedily into her face. She thanked him around a mouthful saying, “Spent the last four hours on CAP. Shit is messed up I tell ya.” Swallowing she added, “So you won the pool. Thought you’d be happy about that.”
“I am,” James hesitated, “I mean. Well, it’s nice those two worked their shit out. Just didn’t see it coming this way…”
Joanne stared at him a moment with the fork hanging from her mouth. “It’s about Spanky isn’t it?” she said removing the utensil. “Skid, I thought you were tougher than this. Mako I get, but you? Shit! You’re the one that told me we can’t let our feelings get in the way of business.”
“That was before,” James said somberly. “And it’s not Spanky. Well, not just Spanky. I’ve never seen Knight go off the deep end like that. Sure he’s always been emotional, a bit unpredictable at times. But the way he went into that fur ball guns blazing. That's Gunsmoke, not Knight. There wasn’t any calculation, no reasoning. He was…blind. It was nothing more than pure rage. It’s a good way to get yourself killed. I’m worried about him App's.”
“We’re all worried about him, but he’s safe now and we’ve got bigger things to worry about. We just got our asses kicked thoroughly, and I can guarantee him and Mako both won’t be seeing a cockpit for a good long time.”
“That’s the other thing. Spanky was his number two. With Knight grounded I’m acting CAG now.”
Joanne breathed a low whistle. “I didn't think about that,” she said quietly. “That’s a lot of weight.”
In the Blink of an Eye Page 35