Between the Lines (Cass & Gage)

[Gage Silver 0]

Between the Lines

A Granger-Silver Log

 

"What happened, Cass? Can't count on you going everywhere in pairs anymore."

 

"Funny thing about that, Sir. Went out of fashion along with bustles, floor-length skirts, and turtlenecks. Must've happened when they realized they needed us in the Corps."

 

Gage smirked. "We got different ideas about need. Last I checked, you're still wearin' miniskirts and slinkin' off to the bathroom in groups."

 

Cass checked the charge on her phaser rifle, felt for the 9mm holstered at her side and patted the Tatang strapped to her thigh. "Sounds like you're due for an upgrade, Sir," she replied, falling in step next to him. "You've lived a sheltered life. Standard combat BDUs look a hell of a lot like yours and the Marine latrine's not gender specific." She flashed a grin.

 

He gave her a sideways glance. "Think you just like bein' the exception, Cass."

 

"Like bein' a Marine, Sir." Her grin faded as they approached their destination.

 

Gage stopped abruptly and turned into her path. "Why?" he asked forcefully, wearing a piercing expression devoid of humor.

 

A quick two-step avoided their collision. "Why what, Sir? Like bein' a Marine? We've been over this territory, Sir, and it seems like we might have bigger fish to fry today than discuss my lifestyle preferences?" [Incredibad]

 

***

 

Something was wrong.

 

Cass and Silver engaged in regular button-pushing: a game of good-natured verbal jabs, seeing who would crater first. Hell, they even kept score sometimes. Gage usually won, she bought the next round, and all was well in the universe.

 

The game initially rankled the hell out of Cass until teammate Gonzales pointed out the obvious. "If you'd had a big brother, he'd be it," he said as he sat on the bench press, grinnin' from ear to ear. Takin' that to mean something totally different and way outta line, Cass barely had time to check her aim before Hector had a chance to explain.

 

He called it BBS which stood for (along with Brother Bull Sh..) Big Brother Syndrome: when the alpha male sibling pressed the buttons of the younger set just for grins. And they enjoyed picking more on the younger females 'cause the girls usually didn't catch the joke until it was way too late, they'd get all embarrassed, maybe even start to cry, which in turn let the younger boys join in the fun and usually got the perpetrator off the hook with the parental unit because by the time they arrived he was long gone, leaving the others to take the blame.

 

It made sense. Gonzales knew because a) he came from a big family, and b) he was the sibling alpha male. Cass was an only child; she'd have to learn to deal with it.

 

Ooorah.

 

This time, though, it was different. The exchange they'd had on approach to Men-Hilsu's bridge was light-hearted enough - or so Cass thought - until it suddenly soured. Something to do with women in the Corps, women in combat, women who could take care of themselves, women in positions of power? It startled her, to say the least.

 

Cass stood pensive, studying her locker as the rest of the team disbursed around her. What the hell was going on? What'd she say? What'd she do? Most importantly, could she correct the problem, and if so, how?

 

Having checked and stashed her gear, Cass peeled down to tee and shorts, draped a towel around her neck, and headed for the showers.

 

The heavy thump of gear from Silver's direction had stopped. Stripped to his tee and fatigues, he stood slumped behind the open locker door, hands loosely draped on the frame above his head. Cass paused, listening to the silence, weighing her options. The straight shot down their row and past Silver's locker was easier, but.... Cass turned, side-stepped Moa, and took aim on the next row: the long way around.

 

Silver needed his space or so she'd thought.

 

"Cass," Gage called lowly as he appeared at the end of the next row in her path to the showers.

 

"Sir?"

 

He studied her for a good ten seconds before his gaze caught Moa behind her and wiped the pensiveness from his face. He sighed. "I'm sorry. About the things I said earlier. It--" he hesitated and glanced again at Moa, who excused himself and moved on. "Wasn't right."

 

Unsure of his meaning, Cass waited a beat, then nodded.

 

"Look, Cass," he said, broaching that personal barrier she kept in a single step; enough to just sense his breath. His thoughts seemed to fail, but Cass stood her ground. They lingered in silence for a long minute, eyes fixed on one another.

 

It surfaced abruptly as he stared at her: an incredulous smirk and forceful exhale that shook off the silence and urged him away. ".....What m'I doing?" he muttered and stiffly rubbed his face and neck.

 

Good question. Still Cass waited, her eyes stabbing briefly toward the showers to ward off onlookers and still any undercurrent.

 

In that second, he'd turned and nearly reached his locker. "Said what I needed to say. See you in the morning, Cass," he casually tossed. The locker door closed with a muffled rattle and the sound of his boots rapidly faded from the compartment toward the exit.

 

***

 

Gage left FORECON feeling listless, but too hungry to pass the Officer's Mess. The timing made little difference; in fact, it was worse, given those visiting the mess mid-watch were off duty and there to socialize. Gage just wanted to eat, return to empty showers and hit his rack with the fewest distractions along the way. No helping it; he'd have to eat-and-run. Unlike himself, he didn't pause to survey the crowd and find someone interesting or new to talk to or get to know - had enough of that for awhile. When he entered, he headed straight for the line and loaded a tray: pork rib, potatoes and gravy, fruits, some kind of green salad - mostly mylar-packaged, reconstituted freeze-dried or dehydrated, and thawed foods - two plates of freshly baked dessert and a tall glass of a colorful liquid. He then chose a secluded table and sat down, digging into his food like a champion gurgitator. But it was asking too much for an extrovert like Gage to go unnoticed.

 

"Ensign Silver," Shavra greeted and then corrected. "Forgive me, Lieutenant, I'm still unaccustomed to your new position. May I join you?"

 

Gage frowned at the shadow of the Deltan overcasting his table; already disturbed within, he didn't want to be disturbed by anyone much less her.

 

"Kind of eating," he replied bluntly with a mouthful. She may have recovered from the infection that had turned her into a vampire physically and mentally, but he didn't have to trust or like her. She'd trespassed his inner sanctum. Shielded by anger it was easy to ignore her presence: the melodic voice and astonishing, glabrescent beauty.

 

"Yes, I see that. I won't take much of your time, if I could just speak with you for a moment." He paused, the hint of vulnerability in her voice drawing his attention to the bright, brown eyes she'd fixed on him. Stupefied by the raw entreaty he read in her face, he lost his appetite and wiped the last bite he'd taken into a napkin.

 

"Yeah, sure," Gage relented, stabbing his fork into the potatoes and gesturing at the open chair as he shoved the tray of food aside.

 

She gave a small but genuine and appealing smile. "Thank you."

 

He glared back at her and slouched in his chair, making no effort to dispel the animosity that settled at the table with her. Shavra hesitated, unnerved by his demeanor. The best he could surmise, she'd come to him expecting some sort of connection with him. She wouldn't find it.

 

"If you're gonna talk, talk," Gage curtly baited.

 

She blinked at him in apparent shock. "I'm sensing that you're upset with me."

 

"Damn right," he snapped, folding his arms.

 

"I'd like to talk about that, if we could." Gage said nothing, so she took a calm breath and continued. "I know that you blame me for what happened. But I want you to know that it was as degrading for me."

 

His jaw immediately tightened, hearing only what he wanted to hear and ego bruised and piqued by her apparent dispassion. "Why? 'Cause we're no better than naive kids to you?

 

"Don't have time for this," he grumbled and forcefully pushed away from the table, breaking for the exit.

 

Her eyes followed his brisk retreat and then slowly fell to the overloaded tray Gage had left behind. Wrapping her delicate fingers around the edge, she stood and crossed the mess to discard the unfinished food. She glanced at the smiling faces in the mess, all fortunately oblivious to what had occurred, and regarded the exit for a moment before entering the corridor. Scanning first to the right and then the left, she caught the flash of a red sleeve as it rushed around the gradual curve of the saucer.

 

"Lieutenant," she called out and stepped into a graceful jog.

 

Gage scowled at the sound of her voice. She pulled up at his shoulder and, expecting him to stop, she paused only to be left behind. She double-timed it to catch up again, but he pressed forward. She couldn't take a hint; he didn't want to talk to her.

 

"Gage, please. I can order you to listen, but I'm asking you. Please."

 

Her plea brought him to a standstill and wondering why he'd given in again. Already frustrated with unrelated events and disgusted with her, he clenched his fists and waited, half-expecting another trick.

 

"I didn't ask to know, but I know the things you hide deep inside and how deeply they hurt. For that reason, I need you to understand. Please. For my sake and yours. It wasn't me, but I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry. You are not the only one who was hurt and needs a chance to heal.

 

"Telepathy is a cherished part of my people's intimate relationships. It's painful knowing that something-- precious to me was used to hurt you. That I was unable to control what I sweared never to engage in with my fellow officers. And each morning I wake and worry that I've done irreparable damage." She made a small sound and he heard her weight shift on the decking. Unconsciously, his anger had eased and his hands hung loosely at his sides.

 

"Please, Gage," she pled lowly. "Doctor T'Aral assured me that I am not responsible, but I need your forgiveness to know it's true -- to feel whole again. And I believe you do as well."

 

There was a pause and then she shakily added, "We are alike you and I whether you believe it or not. I'm also drawn to monogamy; loyalty to just one..."

 

Her voice faded and hearing an unmistakable sound, he turned to find her struggling to quietly choke back tears. Reluctant but growing progressively uncertain of his feelings, he was drawn toward her.

 

"But now--" she murmured, unable to finish. Startled, Gage stood rigidly as she grasped his tunic and buried her head against his shoulder, whispering into the material. "Please forgive me."

 

The things T'Aral had said weeks ago as he thought of only himself. The full realization of his role. The effect his actions had on Shavra hit hard as she held on; this living, breathing being whose warmth and wealth of feeling were bleeding into his tunic. The act of comfortingly wrapping his arms around her felt awkward, but the words came easily, smoothly to his surprise.

 

"Should be asking you for that," he said and she clutched him tighter.

Edited July 16, 2012 by Gage Silver