A Different Can of Worms (2/4)

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

A Different Can of Worms (2/4)

LTJG Charlotte Matsumura

CDR Malcolm Alexander

Dr. Elisabeth Blair

LCDR Ronin Matsumura (Ret.)

 

***

 

Lunch, as it turned out, was a couple of take away sandwiches from their favorite café, seated on a bench in the Japanese style garden built by her father, Ronin Matsumura. Water rushed over hewn rocks, filtering down into the koi pond before them. The koi themselves provided a splash of color, streaks of orange and silver as they swished just beneath the surface of the water. "I've always wondered what your father fed them, to make them so big," Mal said. He kept his voice quiet, reflective of their surroundings.

 

Charlotte smiled. "I've never asked. If it was something disgusting, I didn't want to know. Especially since it was my job to feed the things."

 

Alexander looked at her, wiping his mouth with his napkin, eyes sparkling. He turned sideways so he was straddling the bench and facing her. "So you're to blame for it."

 

Recognizing the twinkle, she blushed slightly. "I wish I could say I was farming them for dinner, but I'm not sure we'd want to eat that."

 

"No, probably not." Mal chuckled. With a sigh, he shoved his napkin into the container his sandwich had come in, and took a sip of his drink. "Though I suddenly have a craving for sushi."

 

Charlotte couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe we can have sushi for dinner."

 

"Is that a date?"

 

Something in the tone of his voice caused Lottie to look back to the taller, senior operative. She found him watching her, his gaze visibly tracing the curve of her cheeks, her eyes, and the way her hair now fell around her face. Warmth crept up her neck and across her cheeks. How could he continually manage to make her blush with just the tenor of his voice?

 

Reaching up, she tucked the errant locks of dark hair behind her ear. So much time alone – and apart since Excalibur docked – had left her with plenty of time to think. She'd known for a long while that what she felt for Mal stretched far beyond the school girl crush she'd once marked it up as. Denial, however, had a strong pull, and as long as she didn't admit the depth of feeling for him, she could continue as normal. They'd be friends, and that was fine.

 

But the prospect of losing him frightened her more than she cared to admit. He had been there through her late night study sessions, answering random questions via subspace at two in the morning; had rescued her from the claustrophobic clutches of her parents during commissioning; had been her friend and mentor, what seemed a universe away. He was a warm, welcoming constant; his absence – his loss – would have left a gaping hole she would never be able to fill.

 

That realization, coupled with a similar admission from Mal weeks previous, left them with two sizeable problems. The first came in the form of the Operations Directorate: They were decidedly less than supportive of relationships between operatives, and even less so when dealing with chain of command. Given Starfleet policy, they could not forbid such relationships, but revelation could result in permanent removal from the field. Neither she nor Mal were quite ready for retirement.

 

Second, were her parents. Malcolm Alexander had been partner to her father and friend to both her mother and father since before she was born; he was as close to a brother as her father ever had. By the same token, she wasn't at all sure how her father would react to his little girl jumping into a relationship with his forty-plus year old friend.

 

"Charlotte?"

 

Blinking out of her reverie, Charlotte focussed once again on the familiar features opposite her. "I'm sorry, I'm just –"

 

"Thinking it through?"

 

She nodded. "I know what I want," she began, "but I keep asking myself if we should. Starfleet could pull us out of the field. And, even though it's my decision, I still can't help but wonder what Mum and Papa would say."

 

Mal swallowed, the bob of his Adam's apple visible just above his uniform collar. "That's a thought," he said, sighing heavily. "I've had more than a few sleepless nights over that-- nightmares of your father and a katana. Not very pretty."

 

Charlotte couldn't help but chuckle at the dark image, rendered somewhat comical by her own mind. "No, I would imagine not."

 

"When we were in the lift, just after Rue ruined my complexion," he continued slowly, "do you remember what I told you – that I felt a lot more than I could say then?" In response, she could only nod. She knew he wasn't finished yet. "I meant what I said, Lottie. And, eventually, when all this settles out, I think your mum and da will see it, too; they know me better than that."

 

"After all this time, I'd like to think so." Her smile was slightly lopsided, wryly amused. The amusement faltered slightly, however, as she thought of problem number one. "And Operations?"

 

"Operations…" Mal rubbed his hand over his hair. "I've had a good, long run and I've more than outlived the life expectancy for operatives in my class. I mean, I'm not ready to be put out to pasture yet, but, as a station chief, I already have one foot in the grave – as it were."

 

"But can you handle sitting at a desk while I'm out in the wild, dark yonder?" She frowned. "Because I'm not ready to give this up yet; I've only just started."

 

At this, Alexander shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure. But I'd bloody well give it my best shot."

 

"Then…" Drawing in a deep breath, Charlotte released it slowly. She forced back the overwhelming surge of emotions at the implications of their conversation; there was permanence inferred she wouldn't even begin to address. For now, she could only take things one step at a time. "I'd say we have a date."

 

There was an impish gleam to Mal's eyes as he leaned forward. "Good. I have just the thing."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Mmhmm."

 

Charlotte shifted, her expression and posture mirroring his. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her, anticipation singing through her. "Not going to tell me?"

 

His gaze flitted over her shoulder toward the house, then back to her, a frown flickering across his features. "Can't."

 

"Can't? Why?"

 

"Because," he said, pausing long enough for a too-quick kiss, "your parents just got home."

 

Sighing, she watched as he swung his leg back over the bench the way one might dismount a horse, and stood. His expression was apologetic as he extended his hand. "We'll have time, love."

 

Charlotte could only give a smirk. "You do know my parents, don't you?"

 

"Point taken." He chuckled as she rose, standing before him. She was careful to ensure the distance between them could be considered "platonic." "How does London sound?"

 

At this, Matsumura blinked. Her brow furrowed as she looked back toward the house, seeing her parents milling about in the living room. It was only a matter of time before they were spotted. "Are you asking me to go away with you?"

 

"Is that what it sounded like?" Mal continued holding her hand, his body blocking any view her parents might have. "I thought perhaps I was just offering a friend a place of refuge during a very trying time."

 

"You're incorrigible," Charlotte replied. In reality, she felt torn. It had been over a year since she had seen her parents, had spent any considerable time with them. She wanted to stay. She wanted to chat with her mother over tea; to train with her father; to sleep in her own bed. She even wanted to catch up with a friend or two from the Academy – anything to keep her mind off the troubles at hand.

 

By the same token, she was also swept up in the first blush of a relationship with her best friend, a man she'd been in love with for years. Escape would provide them the much needed time to work through the jumble of emotions. It would also, she thought wryly, give them plenty of time to work through the rush of hormones they'd barely kept at bay thus far. And the distance from just about everything Starfleet didn't hurt much, either.

 

She smiled up at him. "One condition."

 

"Anything, love."

 

"Dinner with my parents tonight. I owe them that much."

 

Mal nodded. "Done." He paused, then added, "What will you tell them?"

 

"Just what you suggested: You're offering a friend a place of refuge during a very trying time." She placed the back of her hand against her forehead, affecting a dramatically withering expression. "It's all so overwhelming."

 

"You'd better be a little less dramatic, and a little more convincing." He smirked, turning as he heard Liz and Ronin finally entering the garden.

 

Charlotte returned the smirk. "I'm an operative. Convincing is what I do."