You Can't Hide From Me

Posted on 30 Sep 2015 @ 2:54am by Lieutenant JG Cyrin Xanth & Commander Andreus Kohl & Alethea Coleman Ph.D

3,668 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 2, Senior Officer's Quarters
Timeline: MD 05 - 2210 hours

[ON]

The PADDs clutched to Cyrin's chest in his arms rattled as he tried to calm his shaking. This wasn't how an officer was supposed to act! There had been a time when he'd been confident, at least more than he was now, and that fact bothered him. Why was it that delivering a simple report make him so disturbed? It wasn't that Cyrin didn't know his speciality; he was brilliant when it came to his area of science and mathematics. It wasn't that he hadn't made much progress in his efforts at unravelling the secrets of the vortex; with the loss of so much data no one could be expected to do any better with the guesswork he'd done so far.

What it came down to, simply, was that he was standing outside the door to Commander Kohl's quarters where he'd been summoned to make his report. In fact, Cyrin had been standing there for some time now, looking anywhere other than the door itself, trying to calm himself down and beating himself up for his lack of decorum. But Andreus Kohl had a way of making Cyrin squirm.

"A Starfleet Officer faces a challenge with his head held high," the Trill muttered, quoting one of his instructors at the Academy. It didn't help much. With an oath he said under his breath, Cyrin juggled with his PADDs to reach out a finger and press the door chime. "Here goes nothing," a human quote that seemed far more fitting to the Trill.

"Come in," Andreus Kohl called out. That Cyrin could hear Andreus through the door --if low and muffled-- would suggest Andreus had been able to hear Cyrin through the door. Andreus had spoken to the computer, as much as to Cyrin, which caused the doors to his quarters to unlock and pull apart. Compared to the corridor, Andreus' quarters were dimly lit. He had set the illumination to half-standard; all the better to see the asteroids out through the viewports.

Because of Andreus' recent promotions --and his comings and goings from the USS Nautilus-- his quarters were stark and mostly empty. His belongings were still packed in crates, which was the only thing that had saved them from the damage that had wracked the whole of Galileo. The compartment was equipped with all of the standard pieces of furniture, including the sofa upon which Andreus was draped. Clad in a plum sweater and brown slacks, Andreus uprighted himself on the sofa, as he said, "Come in, Cyrin Xanth. Have a seat. Please."

The room Cyrin entered was nothing like he expected as he stepped inside, clutching the numerous PADDs to his chest like a shield. Just how had he pictured Kohl's intimate domains? With the Argelians having a renowned sybaritic lifestyle... Cyrin's eyes darted all over. Where were the deep purple silk drapes that would hide the rooms where the Commander did unspeakable thing? The plump pillows on deep couches, gold and burgundy, that he'd have to wonder when sitting on? The pictures of gorgeous people in poses that would make Cyrin blush, all looking like they were having the time of their lives and had no troubles in the world, feeding each other Betazoid utaberries? Cyrin shivered as his expectations were dashed.

At least Kohl himself didn't disappoint. The man looked like he was an artsy throw over the couch the way he was draped upon it, dressed simply but somehow elegantly. Cyrin hoped he wasn't trembling too much as he came to stand in the middle of the room. The young man took a deep breath.

"Ensign Xanth, r-r-reporting as ordered s-sir."

Andreus could only stare at Cyrin with his sapphire eyes open wide. It was as if Andreus was seeing Cyrin for the very first time. Certainly, their shared time in Galileo's science department meant Andreus was familiar with Cyrin's tall, lean frame and the pattern of his spots. The way Andreus' eyes were tracking Cyrin, though, he was clearly seeing something new tonight.

"Now, let's be fair," Andreus said, as if they were playing chess and Cyrin was a knight walking in a funny hook-shaped path. "When I invited you to my quarters, it was a request. Not an order. I called you Cyrin, remember? I didn't call you Ensign." After that, Andreus cleared his throat and he slumped down lower on the sofa, resting the back of his head against the back of it.

"But now," Andreus said, a little less playfully, "Right now, you can consider this an order: lose the PADDs and sit yourself down."

"Aye, sir."

Obeying orders was of course something that had been drilled into him so Cyrin didn't hesitate to obey. With trembling hands he set the rattling PADDs down on a table, perched himself stiffly on the edge of a couch. His worried grey eyes turned to gaze at the crates; it was easier than looking at Kohl. Just what was in those anyways? The young Trill began to turn a distinct shade of red, a flush that rose to the tips of his ears in short order.

Andreus, meanwhile, was staring somewhere over Cyrin's shoulder, and he let out a slow breath through his nose. He took in a breath, and he said, "Next order." Andreus watched Cyrin's eyes and waited for the eye-contact to return. "You're not allowed to call me sir again until your next duty shift."

He eventually cast a quick glance in Kohl's direction and met the man's eyes. So blue, and they seemed wide, observant. The Trill raised his chin ever so slightly and forced himself to not look away under that scrutiny. "Aye...Comman..." No, that wasn't going to work either, was it? "Kohl." Cyrin was trying very hard not to cringe, and his voice was stronger than it was before. "I am r-ready to make my report."

Somehow, Andreus managed to frown at Cyrin, even as he continued to smile at him. "Cyrin," he said, and that single word held an entire paragraph of chiding. "I don't want a report. We've been working in the same department, on the same ship, for months now. I want you to sit here, and I want you to talk to me. Talk to me like a person. And maybe..." --Kohl lightly kicked his shin against the coffee table, causing the shot glasses and the bottle of grappa to rattle-- "Maybe I want to watch you drink.

The Trill paused, not just in talking but his whole body, a bit like a sehlat in headlights. "No report? B-but I have..." He looked at his stalk of half-dozen PADDs, and finally started to unfreeze. "I have everything. Th-the Raychaudhuri equations and Penrose–Hawking theorems s-s-sort-ted, measurements of the Delta-s-s-series radioisotopes, and I finally matched th-the gravitational fl-flux densities w-with others in the computer and..." The young man looked so disappointed as he glanced up from his PADDs to his superior.

As if only realising it for the first time, Cyrin looked at the bottle and shot glasses. "Oh." Thoughts began to race even harder now. Talk? While drinking? What did Commander Kohl want to talk about? Would he be able to keep himself calm and talk clearly? What if the Commander got impatient with him? What if he didn't know anything about whatever topic came up? Worst of all, what if he got drunk and the things running through his mind started pouring out?

"Maybe one or t-t-two."

"Cyrin..." Andreus gently said, but when the trim man didn't immediately look at him, didn't appear to be entirely present, Andreus said his name a couple of times more. "Cyrin... Cyrin..." The last time he said it, Andreus reached over to take hold of Cyrin's left hand between both of his own. He gave Cyrin's hand a squeeze. "You know," Andreus asked, "I can't understand how to read Raychaudhuri equations, right? I rely on you for that."

The Trill came halfway out of his seat with the sudden contact. What in the universe? "Sir-err-uh-K-Kohl?" He stared, nervous of course. Cyrin's mind raced. Was that the point of all this? To make him nervous? Maybe this was some sort of test. Commander Stace couldn't have been the only one to notice his behaviour, and Commander Kohl had said they'd been working together for months now. Perhaps that meant that his superior had been observing him with displeasure all this time. He lacked certain numbers to form a true statistical analysis, but it was not an unlikely conclusion at least. Cyrin sat back down, didn't pull away even though he was quite conscious of the feel of those hands on his own cold one, and tried harder to be at his best.

He spoke deliberately and much more slowly, "I wouldn't have assumed that, s-Kohl. About the equations I m-m-mean." Cyrin's mind still raced, trying to figure out what to say, and as happened on occasion he wound up saying something he regretted almost immediately afterwards, "I think I'm going to need a drink if we're going to be holding hands much longer."

For his part, Andreus took no offense at that. In a consoling tone, he assured Cyrin, "We won't be holding hands." To make his point, Andreus released him and leaned back into the shared sofa. "In all this time working side by side, I hardly know anything about you, Cyrin," said Andreus. "I know you like to ion surf, but there hasn't even been much opportunity for that these past weeks, which means the only thing I know about you is irrelevant. That's not right, is it?"

The nervous astrophysicist settled down, though he held the hand that was just released with his other on his lap. Getting to know one another, right. Cyrin's mind finally settled on at least what was going to happen but now it began to wonder along those lines. At least he was able to look at Kohl better now though those bright eyes made him glance away every so often. How much were they going to share? What if he was boring? Would there be secrets involved? "Oh I uh...no s-Kohl," Cyrin said, still trying hard to watch his pronouns. He thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out something he enjoyed while worry about all the rest. "Oh I like regular surfing too!" Cyrin winced.

At first, Andreus only breathed out a single, "heh", of a laugh, but then the absurdity of Cyrin's personal revelation struck Kohl hard. A full-blown laugh sputtered out from Andreus' smile, but he reigned it in pretty quickly. "I like regular surfing too," Andreus said in good-humour. "I have a proposition for you, Cyrin," Kohl said in a cautious mien.

The laughter had started to defuse things further, and Cyrin found himself smiling a little uncertainly. Of course anything to do with surfing was sure to soften up Cyrin anyways. "Sure, alright," he agreed. Maybe things weren't going to be all that bad.

Andreus explained himself in just three words: "Truth or dare."

Cyrin looked at Kohl as if he'd sprouted a second head. Then he looked at the door in an obvious measuring of if he could escape for a moment. "Now I'm really going to need a drink."

"I can go first," Andreus offered helpfully, "if you'd like." He emphasized his point with a dip of his head. He wrapped a hand around the neck of the tall, slim bottle on the table. Lifting it up, Andreus poured out a couple shots of the translucent Argelian grappa.

Cyrin took his shot with hands he tried to keep steady so as not to spill, "This is really happening, isn't it? Y-you know, my l-last CO, he would have never done s-something like this." It didn't come out as an accusation, but more like Cyrin was still stunned by the situation. "Right then, uh," he cast back to silly parties at the Academy. "Truth or Dare?"

"Let us start at the start, Cyrin," Andreus replied. He spoke the phrase with a lyrical cadence to his voice. He let it be a toast, as he raised his shot glass and then downed it in one. It had been a while; it had been a long while since Andreus had drunk anything so potent. He coughed and he patted his palm against his chest, as if that would make it go down smoother. And only when he regained his composure, did Andreus say, "Make it truth."

An interesting choice of words, and this first name business was strange as well. Cyrin was going to keep thinking of his superior by his last name for the time being, it was more comfortable that way. When Kohl went to drink, so did Cyrin, though the younger man took it a good deal slower. It was fierce but tasty at least, and left a trail of fire from his mouth down to the pit of his stomach. Cyrin grunted. "Oh uh, let's see," he said as he set down the shot glass, "what made you want to become a scientist?"

The pained wince that crumpled Andreus' face was more intense than what that first slash of alcohol had done to him. He held the empty shot glass in his hand and he clutched it to his abdomen. Shaking his head, Andreus said, "I'm not a scientist. Not by any stretch of the definition. I'm a Starfleet Officer." --He shrugged helplessly and he tittered out an embarrassed laugh-- "I only became a science officer because I was paralyzed. I couldn't function as a medical officer for a time. Repurposing my knowledge to the sciences was... it was the first thing I could think of. Maybe not the best, but it was the first."

"Oh," Cyrin said, sounding a bit surprised; he hadn't known any of that. The Commander had been paralyzed? It was hard to picture. The man moved around just fine, had even gone ion surfing with him when they'd first met and that certainly took a lot of physical ability. The wonders of modern medicine indeed. "I s-s-suppose even a uh, d-doctor is a-a-a scien-scientist though," the answer had shaken Cyrin up a bit.

It had been months since Andreus had heard that one. No one much made that assumption ever since Andreus had left his Sickbay duties behind. It hardly even mattered anymore, and yet it stung. It stung his ego, and it filled him with fear at how little Cyrin was about to think of him. Staring at Cyrin, Kohl shifted his lower jaw from side to side. He let out a breath, but he didn't say anything. Looking away, Kohl busied himself with pouring another couple of shots, but he left his glass on the low table. "I'm not a doctor," Andreus said wearily. "I was never a doctor."

This was going so much worse than Cyrin had suspected it might at first. He could see just how awkward his words had made Kohl right from the start, bringing up things that probably were best left alone. Cyrin didn't think anything less of his superior at all, but he certainly felt less about himself for somehow hitting right on sensitive subjects. "I'm sorry, s-sir, I didn't m-mean to assume..." He didn't wait very long once his shot glass was filled again, and Cyrin downed more of the liquid courage while doing his best to avoid eye contact.

Putting on a plastic smile and 40-watt bulbs behind his eyes, Kohl only responded with, "Your turn!" There was forced excitement in his delivery, so forced his voice cracked at the end. Kohl looked down at the space between them on the sofa as he cleared his throat. He raised his eyes to Cyrin once again, and he said, "Now you get to choose. The truth or the dare?"

It seemed as if Kohl was trying to put a good on things, so Cyrin would try to do the same. Those blue eyes though, they put him on edge any time he lifted his gaze to see them. They could pin him in place, seemed to delve into him, search for secrets... "Dare!" Cyrin said a bit too loudly. Surely that would be easier than trying to talk about himself.

Lifting his gaze, Kohl studied Cyrin's lean face and grey eyes, as if for the first time. Kohl nodded vaguely, to accept Cyrin's selection, but he kept on nodding for a time longer, because his focus was internalized completely on devising the perfect dare. Snatching up his shot glass from the table, Kohl slugged back a gulp of grappa, and inspiration hit him just as hard. He narrowed his eyes on Cyrin, as he gave his dare a second thought, and then he decided to go for it.

"Computer," Kohl ordered aloud; "Open the doors to the corridor." Dutifully, the main double-doorway to Kohl's quarters slid open and stayed that way. Kohl watched the doors recede into the bulkhead; he watched them carefully, as if he didn't entirely believe they were going to obey. Once the passageway was exposed, Kohl pivoted his head to face Cyrin.

"Cyrin Xanth," Kohl said in a faux-ominous tone, "when the very next person walks past my quarters, I dare you to invite them to an ice cream date tomorrow night."

The scientist's eyes had turned to the door, immediately wary but still amenable to whatever was coming his way. He was a thrill seeker after all, and there was something exciting about taking on a dare before he knew what it was. Maybe he was going to have to sing as loud as he could out in the corridor, something raunchy or embarrassing? Or maybe Kohl was going to test him with some sort of physical challenge, trying to run up a bulkhead and backflip or something. Whatever it would be, Cyrin was ready.

But then Kohl told him what was coming and Cyrin's head snapped around to stare at his superior. "What?!" It had come out quite higher pitched than his normal tenor, his voice cracking as well. His mind began to speed up once again. A date? Like an actual, hey wanna go on a date with me kind of date? I've never been on one before! Am I supposed to do flowers for an ice cream date? I've never heard of an ice cream date before. Maybe I should gift them chocolate syrup? Or sprinkles? What do I even wear to go eat ice cream? Oh no, what if they want a second date?!

Coleman passed by the open doorway just then. Her hands were jammed firmly into her civilian jumpsuit and her feet made a shuffle sound as she walked. She looked in and gave a passive look before continuing on her way. The shuffling stopped after a step or two, before Coleman walked backwards into view. She gave the doorway a once over before settling her eyes on Kohl. "Your door is stuck, Commander." She said dryly. Her face was passive and she didn't seem all too impressed to be giving him the news. Surely he knew his door was stuck.

Perhaps to his credit, Cyrin didn't wait long to climb to his feet but his hands were trembling as he walked by Kohl and his eyes were wide. Cyrin hid his hands behind his back as he approached the door and his dare. Then he began what was possibly the worst invitation ever made on the Galileo, "Umm, Duh-Duh-Duh-Doc-Doctor Cuh-Cuh-Coleman?" His stutter had never been so bad. This might be the first time he'd actually spoken to her besides a brief hello as they passed in a corridor. With all his hiding in the lab, he wondered if she even knew who he was. "I wah-wwah-was uh, well, y-you s-s-see, if you might, puh-poss-possuh-. Argh! If you m-m-might l-like to maybe um, if you uh, h-h-have t-t-time th-that is, w-would you j-join me for some ice cuh-cuh-cream tomorrow nuh-night? If y-you l-like ice cuh-cream? Y-you um...uh...as uh...muh-muh-muh-my uh...duh-duh-duh..." Cyrin took a deep breath, his face so flushed and red, his eyes staring at Coleman's shoes. "Date?"

Coleman took a deep breath and let it all out in what sounded like an annoyed huff. Her eyes rolled lazily to Kohl and she quirked an eyebrow at him before giving Cyrin a withering look. "Ice cream irritates my gastrointestinal tract." She deadpanned. Though no one had really yet been able to get a read on her to know she was teasing, her blank stare of disapproval made it impossible to know she was joking.

The tall young Trill wilted like a plant without water, but at the same time let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like relief. Cyrin's expression was so embarrassed, but he did at least look up to make eye contact with Coleman His voice grew even softer, quiet, and uncomfortable, "Uh, I uh, I un-under-un-ah-stand, Doctor. Th-thank you. I umm..." Cyrin glanced back over his shoulder at Kohl, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. Then he looked back to Coleman. His mouth worked though nothing came out. His mind was curiously blank of thoughts but felt like it was spinning round and round.

"Bye..." He turned, strode directly to the couch, and wasted little time in helping himself to another shot. As soon as that one was down, Cyrin filled himself another and held it between both hands.

"And to think..." Kohl said with a lilt of excitement and resignation, "Now you get to have your revenge..."



[OFF]


Ensign Cyrin Xanth
Astrophysicist
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

Guest Appearance
Alethea Coleman Ph.D
Ecologist
USS Galileo
[PNPC by K'os Beaumont]

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