Two Ships...

Posted on Fri Mar 29th, 2013 @ 7:39pm by Lieutenant Norval Tigan & Lieutenant Eric Edwards

Mission: Breaking New Ground
Location: CoO's Quarters
Timeline: Prior to "The Rescuers Depart"

For several weeks, Lieutenant Eric Edwards had lived in the quarters reserved for the Chief of Operations.

"Well, Sakkath's moved in with the XO!" Norval had said.

"They're married," Eric countered.

"And that means these quarters would be vacant," the Trill had continued, unimpeded. "That seemed a waste, and I do have a little something to say about assigning quarters on this station. Besides, I've had to run the department more often than not. Divitia, the Admiral's disappearance... I deserve a perk or two. So here we are, our new home. Pretty good for two Lieutenants, eh?"

Eric was thinking fondly on the memory as he entered. It was one of very few memories he had of both he and Norval being here. They had been very much like two ships, passing in the night since deciding to move in together. Norval had been dealing with the retrieval of the Admiral, Commander Hawke and Darwin. Eric had been assigned to Chance's murder investigation... If you could even call it that anymore, as Chance was walking around, breathing, and the man who had killed him was dead. Stabbed. By Eric's superior officer.

He still had no idea how to feel about that, he realized as he sank onto their sofa and removed his uniform jacket. Was it really self-defense, as Gilroy had immediately offered, or had Oz seen an opportunity to kill her brother's murderer and be done with it? He honestly didn't know.

And he honestly didn't blame her, even in the case of the latter. So why was it bothering him?

Maybe, he thought, because Chance didn't seem like Chance. And that meant there was no revenge to be had... Or maybe, probably worse, that Eli hadn't seemed to realize that Chance wasn't really Chance.

But even as he wrestled with that issue, he heard his terminal chime. Heaving a sigh, he reluctantly stood and made his way over to the wall console, stripping off the gold security tunic that had seen far more action than it was meant to today. "Exit interview for Cadet Ziyad," he said out loud, ending with a laugh. "That certainly worked out."

Instead he got to fight with an escaped prisoner, witness a death and coordinate with Medical. Activating the terminal, his expression quickly changed from one of winding down, and of thinly veiled disinterest, to one of surprise and then action.

"Computer, respond in the affirmative to the active message," he said as he grabbed a duffel from the closet in the bedroom. "And replicate a black pair of pants, boots and turtleneck in my size, appropriately distinguishable from Starfleet issue."

=^= Specify =^= the computer's monotonous voice came back.

"I don't know. Just don't make it obvious that I'm a Starfleet officer," Eric sighed, exasperated. "Use a... Romulan pattern," he suggested on a whim.

That seemed to satisfy the replicator. He imagined Vic wouldn't want them advertising their affiliation. And despite his misgivings, he wasn't about to let Iggy worry Oz, so he was stuffing clothes into a bag when the doors hissed open.

"It is so good to be home," Norval announced as he dropped his own bag on the floor. "Do you have any idea how small the quarters on the Hammond are compared to this? Aaaaand," he added, sauntering closer and wrapping his arms around Eric's stomach from behind, "it's very nice to see you already half undressed." The Trill planted a kiss on the back of the human's neck.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t seen you since you got back,” Eric breathed, almost letting himself collapse into Norval’s embrace. Almost.

And Norval noticed the reticence. "What is it?" he asked, his cold fingers brushing against warm flesh.

"I ... actually have to go," he half laughed and half sobbed at the admission. He turned and joined his lips to the Trill's. "Iggy's been bugnapped," he breathed against Norval's lips as they barely parted, and Eric found his fingers tracing the unseen path of spots that ran across his partner's chest and side.

"Bugnapped?" Norval chuckled. "I'll talk to Oz, she can assign someone else."

"By some trader through the wormhole, interested in one of a kind items," Eric managed, quite seriously.

"Oh..." Norval's tone, his body language, had changed completely. This was... actually serious, and didn't involve sending a goon around the base with a spider scanner. He managed a smile in response. "Then I'm glad you're going," he said, more than slightly disappointed. "I happen to like Iggy. And being called 'double-male' is oddly gratifying."

Eric smiled in response, a more than bittersweet gesture. "Myself and Vic and Lieu... Major Smith," he corrected, "leave in 30." Sliding out of Norval's arms, he began to change his clothes, an act the Trill happily watched. "You mind if I borrow a few of your things?" he asked.

"Of course not," Norval said as he walked to their bar and poured himself a more-than-generous amount of gin. "What, like clothes?"

"Actually," Eric said, now clad in black, "like your war trophies." He heard, more than saw, the ice in the Trill's glass shake. His eyes were fixed on Norval. "Those Jem'Hadar weapons of Andam's could actually be helpful..."

Holding the glass in his right hand, Norval had almost dropped it, Andam's memories flooding Tigan... including the loss of that hand and the arm attached to it. He quickly switched his hold of the glass to his left hand, and just as quickly sank into the couch. "Yeah," he said, his voice cracking on the sudden dryness in his throat, and no more. He had retreated into his symbiote, his eyes almost unaware of the room around him.

Eric frowned, but it didn't stop him from gathering what he needed. His look, full of love and pity for the Trill, went unnoticed, even as he slung the bag over his shoulder and made plans to visit the armory.

"I love you," he spoke, and leant over to press a kiss to Norval's cheek. He barely responded.

Eric turned to go, and received as he passed the portal a "Come back safe," in reply.

"I will," the Security officer promised, before making haste to a weapons locker.

--
Lieutenants Eric Edwards and Norval Tigan
Two Ships Passing in the Night