Star Trek: Theurgy

Re: Day 15 [2100 hrs.] Hic Sunt Leones

Reply #25 – February 06, 2020, 11:50:46 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Counsellor’s Office | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @fiendfall
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Hathev had remained silent for some time after he had spoken, though his last question seemed to bring her back to the present.

”No.”

The word was spoken in a firm tone, just as the words which followed were. She proclaimed the idea that he was a monster to be objectionable, both in the fact that monsters weren’t real, and by the fact that, had they been, he would not be among their number. She paused, as though gathering her thoughts. He hand had sought his out as she had begun to reply, and if held it still. Cross glanced down at her hand in his, her slender fingers practically engulfed by his larger digits. He could feel that same awareness of her in his head from the contact, though he stopped himself form reaching out to it. Now was not the time, nor did he wish to do any more damage than he had already done. ”What you showed me…” Her words pulled him back, his eyes rising to meet hers once more. He found himself held by them as she spoke, her gaze seeming to both piece him and calm him. She claimed that she considered his control exemplary, though the image of himself with his hand around her throat flashed through his mind’s eye as though mocking him. She admitted that while there was more to be done, that the situation did not make him deficient. He felt sincerity faintly thought the physical contact, the knowledge that she meant the words providing him a sense of comfort.

She fell silent again then, though Cross held her gaze a moment longer. Finally he dropped his gaze back to their hands, relishing in the feeling of her hand in his, of that little glimmer of her in the back of his mind. He lifted his gaze only when she spoke again, stating simply that she was no longer married. Her tone was careful now, no longer firm or certain. Cross could feel a slight hesitation from the Hathev that taunted him in the back of his mind, though he again retrained himself from reaching out to it.

Cross failed to suppress a chuckle when she began to address the “complications” which would arise should this feeling prove t be permanent, citing first that they were colleagues, and that it could not be allowed to interfere with their duties. He raised his gaze but not his head, peering up at her from under his eyebrows, his mouth curved in a highly amused smile as he continued to listen. Her second point was a re-evaluation of their arrangement, as she could not counsel someone which she was affiliated with.

Cross chuckled again, wondering why Vulcans had to make any statement in such an official and proper manner. His grin grew as she finished by stating that, as long as both conditions were met, she would have no objections.

She spoke again quickly, expressing her opinion that this information was all based on conjecture, though she stammered a bit as she spoke. It could be temporary, she insisted, for either of them. They ought not to make assumptions. They wouldn’t know until the morning.

Should they remain, however, her answer would still stand.

She still held his hand, and Cross increased the pressure of his grip ever so slightly, though she’d made no move to free herself. She looked a though she were about to speak again, and Cross moved quickly to prevent it before she got out yet more statements of the possibility that such feeling could be temporary, or that such a relationship was inappropriate.

He’d heard quite enough of it already.

She’d just managed to get the first sound out of her mouth when his lips met hers again, muffling whatever it was she had been about to say. His hand moved to caress her cheek gently, and he only realized when he broke the brief kiss that he had used his left hand, and the metallic digits might feel cold against her cheek.

”I have a few things to say before you keep going on about how this might not be permanent.” Cross informed her with a chuckle, his pale eyes studying hers at a closer range. ”First, I may not have control of my emotions, though I’m more than a little familiar with them. They’ve been kicking my ass my whole life, and I can tell you they tend to stick around.” Cross leaned back ever so slightly, a smile playing across his features. ”As for not being able to counsel someone who you became affiliated with, consider yourself fired.” Cross grinned at her with a mixture of amusement and apology. ”Given the aftermath of our last two sessions, I think it’s safer for the both of us. And given the choice between being counselled by you or affiliated with you…” Cross shook his head with a soft chuckle, still finding her choice of word very bland and very Vulcan. ”I know which I’d choose.” Cross gave her a slightly shy smile.

”Haja, Hathev, I came over from the Endeavour with Blue and Ducote. The Theurgy’s new XO and Chief Engineer have not only been affiliated for quite some time, but they also got married a week ago. Considering Captain Ives officiated the ceremony, I can’t foresee him having an issue with two more of his senior staff becoming involved. Or affiliated, if you want to be all prim and proper about it.” Cross chuckled, then shrugged. ”Besides, our departments don’t exactly have much in the way of direct operational involvement, and I’m technically being counselled by Seren, not you. So again, I don’t foresee an issue.”

Cross’ eyes narrowed as a smile played across his lips. ”Now can I kiss you again? Or would you like to tell me again, for the fourth time, how this all might be temporary?”

---

Kardasi Translation:
Haja – Fuck

Re: Day 15 [2100 hrs.] Hic Sunt Leones

Reply #26 – February 13, 2020, 08:00:14 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Chief Counsellor's Office | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Fife

The matter of monstrosity turned all Hathev's patients to philosophers, it seemed; so many believed themselves to be so, or feared they might one day become one, as if a monster was merely the unavoidable endpoint to suffering, as if monstrosity were anything more than a superstition, a tool used by ancient creatures to explain and understand the world around them. Of all the ancient myths, this was the most pervasive.

Yet she would never dismiss these fears with such an answer. Of all the emotions, fear could be the least logical, grasping at the mind for little reason, dancing at the edges of one's perception, needling and cajoling and persuading. Thus she humoured Cross now, watching his countenance carefully, reading the uncertainty there, the guilt. She half expected him to argue against her words, make a case for himself as beast, but to her surprise he did no such thing. He merely listened, and, as she finished speaking, held her gaze as if searching for something within her in turn. Whatever he sought, she hoped he found it; he broke the connection only to look down upon the joined hands between them. She felt no dismissal bleeding through that contact, no sign that he might be shutting out her words. She could only hope that meant he might come to accept them.

He said nothing, and once more Hathev filled the silence. Again he let her speak, watching her once more, a smile growing upon his face as she did so. She could feel something unspool within him, stretching out to fill the space left by her words, and she quickly moved to clarify. She could not have Cross creating expectations for-- for something neither of them could be certain would even come to pass. She needed to be certain that he understood.

Even as she spoke, she was not convinced of this. Even as she insisted on the potentially temporary nature of whatever this might be, Cross' expression spoke to something else, and before she had an opportunity to make another attempt she found his lips upon hers, his hand cold upon her cheek, and it was all she could do to stifle the noise of her surprise.

She pulled away from him. The touch was not unpleasant, but neither was its timing welcome. 'Do not interrupt me like this, Cross, it is imperative that you understand.' She was cast adrift in a situation she had never anticipated, never even considered might come to pass, and was thus left scrambling to map it, to create the necessary parameters that she might exist safely within them, and to bring Cross that he did not suffer disappointment or regret should the situation change once more. Care was of the utmost importance in this. And while she could understand his desire to imagine that change would never come to pass, she could not allow him to do so.

And yet if that change were imminent, it should have occurred already. Cross' anger had long since left her system, and even that she had been able to dispel once she was more in control of her faculties. This, on the other hand, was unruly in a way that led her to suspect it might merely be the natural development of her original esteem for Cross, accentuated or accelerated by the faulty meld, perhaps, but hardly created by it.

Could the same be said for him? It was hardly likely that she had implanted such a sensation in him. Could the reticence of this sensation to leave them speak to a longer-term causality than a meld?

She shifted position minutely as Cross began to speak himself. Although their brief kiss had ended, he had not entirely withdrawn, rather remaining close. She endeavoured to smooth the microexpressions from her countenance.

His initial words were curious, but hardly convincing. Familiarity did not equate to understanding; should this be a mere echo within him, she would not expect him to be aware of such a fact. And yet what would it be echoing? The warmth in her? Had she somehow bent his emotional will to her own? She doubted it.

He moved away, then, smiling, and his next words surprised her from her considerations. She could not recall ever having been fired; patients might have been reallocated from her to other counsellors but that was hardly a dismissal. She blinked a little, caught off guard; yet the smile upon Cross' face made it clear he intended no harshness, and his words even more so. A joke? An admission? A... A statement of care. In his mouth, the word 'affiliation' took on new meanings, rendered soft with his shyness, and for the briefest of moments she was almost overcome with a most impulsive desire to repeat the earlier contact. She repressed it, of course, but could not entirely prevent her unconscious drift towards him.

She could hardly allow Cross to abandon his journey of self-control on her account, and yet if she truly examined their meetings she was forced to admit that she had never entirely viewed him as a patient. Even if she had not been biased all along -- and at this stage that seemed a real possibility -- it was certainly true that she had been rendered so this evening. Another would be sourced to aid Cross. Her own qualifications now lay elsewhere.

The mention of Commanders Tiran and Ducote was interesting, and she found herself watching Cross with curiosity. 'I am sure both are capable officers, yet you will forgive me if I do not wish to model myself upon either,' she said, speaking lightly and without sternness. 'Nevertheless, in this your logic is sound. I... I find such an arrangement to be unobjectionable -- at this present time.'

She was coming to anticipate that she might find such a thing to be unobjectionable for the forseeable future. For if it had not left her by this present time then perhaps this lasting effect spoke to a permanence, a continuity, that she had not previously considered.

She did not know. She could not know. Yet in this moment, she truly did find these things to be unobjectionable; where, then, would be the logic in objecting to them?

'You may,' she said, and found herself magnetised, drawn to him. She had explained the risks, the uncertainty; she could only hope Cross had truly understood them. Repetition was wasteful, and so was denial; she would not continue to engage in either activity. This, then, was the mnost reasonable course. She kissed him once more, and it was logical.

Re: Day 15 [2100 hrs.] Hic Sunt Leones

Reply #27 – February 19, 2020, 02:18:02 AM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Counsellor’s Office | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @fiendfall
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When the first kiss, which Cross had initiated in an attempt to mute Hathev’s insistence that this might be only a temporary anomaly, was not greeted with enthusiasm. Once she pulled away, Hathev remonstrated him for interrupting her. While it had failed in the one purpose, it had still succeeded in it’s second. He had gotten to kiss her again…

Hathev insisted that it was important that he understand, and understand he did. Not that she seemed to believe him. But there was, in his mind, a difference in understanding that these feelings might be impermanent, and choosing to accept and give up on them on the chance that they were, indeed, fleeting. True, Cross may not have be thinking like a logical Vulcan in that instant, but logic be damned. He’d been through enough in his life not to turn down a chance at happiness if presented with one, and should these feelings prove to be lasting, then that chance was something he hoped to hold on to.

Once he began his argument in favour of giving it a chance, Hathev seemed to lose steam in her arguments. Or perhaps she was simply unhappy about her position as instructor being terminated. He could, perhaps, have phrased that better. When he reached his point about Blue and Ducote, however, Hathev did not quite seem to agree with him, stating that while the two might well be capable officers, Hathev had no wish to model herself after them. Her tone, however, was far from harsh, and finally she admitted that his argument was logical…

His argument… logical…

And that she had no objections at this time.

It was then that he had asked if he could kiss her again, or if she would prefer to lecture him more on the potential impermanence of their current state. She opted for the former, leaning in to meet him half way this time. His head swam, the small light that was her glowing into life inside his head once more. His heart leapt, joy coursing through him, brought about both by her touch and by the end of her protests and insistence that this might be temporary and therefor should not be pursued. Raising his hand to caress her cheek, the flesh-and-blood one this time, Cross broke the kiss for a moment but kept his forehead resting against her. ”You know…” He murmured, his voice soft and slightly playful. ”That might be the first time a Vulcan has admitted one of my arguments had logic. You might have been making more progress with me than I thought.”

He kissed her again, a quick peck only, before he drew back a centimeter or so and met her eyes. ”I have an idea.” Cross said, his tone soft and his mind having trouble focusing as he stared into those hazel eyes at such short range. ”You insist this might be temporary. Fine. Let me take you on a date.” Cross’ face flushed, and he cursed himself for this visible show of idiocy. He was kissing her, and the idea of a date made him blush? Trying to ignore the reaction, he pressed on. ”We can agree on a couple of days form now. If, between now and then these feelings prove to be fleeting, we can simply cancel. No hard feelings, as the Humans like to say.” Cross leaned his head forward, leaning it gently against hers once more. ”Will you find that arrangement… acceptable?” Cross asked the question in the civil manner he expected she would have used, trying to suppress the smile which tried to claw it’s way onto his features. His thumb gently brushed her cheek as he spoke again. ”Though for the moment, I don’t think we should stop what we’re doing…” As if to punctuate the statement, Cross brought his lips to hers once more, pulling her closer to him this time, unable to help himself.

Re: Day 15 [2100 hrs.] Hic Sunt Leones

Reply #28 – March 07, 2020, 07:52:33 PM

[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Chief Counsellor's Office | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Fife

'That might be the first time a Vulcan has admitted one of my arguments had logic,' Cross said quietly, his amusement lightly tickling the edges of her consciousness. A tease?

She hummed slightly in reply; she could very well believe his statement, yet it was the amusement she wished to acknowledge, despite the fact it was not her own. Humour could be an invaluable mechanism by which emotional beings unburdened themselves, lighting the tone of their own feelings, and its presence here suggested Cross, at least, was beginning to recover from the events of the evening. She was pleased to see his spirits so high.

Just as she was pleased to be the subject of their attentions.

'Certainly, another week and I would have had you quoting Surak,' she said dryly. 'Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that logic can be found in even the most illogical of places.'

So too could affection, it seemed.

Cross flushed green as he made his suggestion for how they might proceed given this development. She had expected such a request; she had an understanding of both his inner workings and his current emotional state, and had hardly anticipated his suggesting any other course of action. Given the obviousness of such a thing his bashfulness in the delivery was illogical, and yet she found his uncertain demeanour so unreasonably endearing that she could not entirely disapprove.

'It is my understanding that such a thing would be the standard form of courtship, yes,' she said lightly. His embarrassment was… sweet. Moreover, his willingness to compromise with her was something she had not expected, the echoing of her wording in his request, and the circumspection displayed in his suggestion that they wait. She appreciated such things greatly.

'That would indeed be acceptable,' she said. Perhaps even agreeable. In any case, it offered them both ample opportunity to reflect, to study their psychological state, and to re-evaluate such a plan as and when it became necessary to do so. 'No hard feelings', as Cross said.  A nonsensical turn of phrase, and yet a sentiment she could not fault.

'I shall forward you a copy of my schedule that we may co-ordinate effectively.' It was the version she had compiled for Commander Tiran, with names and identifying details removed, that the woman could avoid interrupting any more of Hathev's sessions with a patient; that she might reuse such a thing in such vastly different circumstances had never occurred to her during its creation.

His hand found her cheek, and she found herself quite ridiculous once more.

'I see no reason to desist at the present time,' she agreed, and gave in to the impulse to enact a reprieve of their earlier osculation. She was not normally so tactile, but there was little here that was normal for her, and such a fact did nothing to lessen her gratification at his touch. She was far from averse to its continuation.

There was work to be done, after: her office remained in an unacceptable state, and she required several hours of meditation before she would be fit to recommence her duties on the morrow, yet there would be time enough for both. The evening's hours could draw on as they pleased, and she could spare more than a few moments from them, gladly so.

The coming days would bring what they willed; this time was their only certainty, and she was content to dwell there as long as they could.


--FIN