Same Song, Different Verse

Posted on 27 Dec 2019 @ 12:41am by Lieutenant JG Ian Beckett & Lieutenant Commander Camila Di Pasquale

3,475 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Epilogue
Location: Camila's Quarters
Timeline: 10 June 2389

It had been quite a while since the end of all those horrible things and Ian had been kept pretty busy with Operations duties. Especially after they'd made it out of that godforsaken Zone. But he never let work keep him from trying to see Camila. They'd had lots of fun on the holodeck and at that party and he thought they'd become okay friends. However recently, when he'd gone to visit her or contact her, Ian had been turned down. Every time. Not being worth it wasn't going to fly with him...or everything else that she'd come up with. He nothing if not persistent when it came to friends. Which is why he found himself once again standing outside her quarters in the evening. Only this time he had a small container with him.

Ian rang the chime and didn't wait for an answer. "Hey!" He yelled. "I brought food this time. Open up and I'll share. Everybody has to eat."

Camila sat in her quarters with a bottle of Andorian Ale in front of her and chilled shot glass that she refilled at the sound of the chime. "No one's here," she called out before she tossed the shot back. She didn't know why Ian kept coming around after what she had done. She didn't know why anyone wanted anything to do with her. Yet, he kept trying and she kept sending him away, but she had to hand it to him for persistence. Unfortunately, being persistent wasn't against any regulations and she hadn't told him that it was something she didn't want, so he kept coming and she kept coming up with reasons to not see him.

"Well I'm bringing in some food in for no one. And if no one doesn't want to eat it, then no one has to. But it would be best if someone did." Ian paused a second. "I searched the database for hours trying to find something that looked good to replicate. It's something called Sfincione di San Vito and some lemon sorbet over strawberries." He started tapping away at the panel next to the door.

She sighed when he continuously tapped the chime and considered disabling it, then sighed again and got up. She wore a green shirt that looked rumpled and a pair of faded Starfleet jogging pants as she went to the door and opened it. "Sorry, Ian, but I'm not hungry." She said, looking tired and empty.

Ian stood there in his green plaid shorts and brown tee shirt, looking at Camila. She looked...worn...to him. "Maybe not now," he said, "but you might be later. If you let me in, I can put them away for you. And then sit with you for a while."

"I appreciate it, but...I just really don't feel like company," Camila said but sounded like she was just saying it by rote now.

Ian smiled. "Now when did I get demoted from friend to 'company?' Friends don't let friends sit in funk. At least not by themselves. C'mon, Hotshot," he added with a wink.

She sighed and stepped aside, the lighting dimmed and the inside looking like she hadn't taken much care of anything lately. Clothes were where they'd been removed, several dishes remained on the table, and a large number of shot glasses littered every other surface. "Your wish," she said.

"It is. Thanks," he replied as he stepped inside. Ian would be surprised if more quarters didn't look like this after all they'd been through. He took notice of all the shot glasses and the bottle of blue liquid on the table. "So," he said as he went to the couch and moved some clothes to a nearby chair so he could set down, "what are we having to drink tonight since we aren't eating?"

"Whatever you want, 'cept most of it's synth. Cheers to the Ferengi," Camila muttered as she went to a chair that had a pillow on it and fell into it.

Ian had set the food containers on the other end of the couch. They would keep for a little while before he had to put them away. He then picked up a nearby shot glass and blew into it before pouring some light brown liquid from a bottle. "Glad to see you stuck around while most everyone else left for the duration." He threw back the shot and figured out that it was some of the synth. "Any plans to take advantage of stuff around here while we wait?" Ian poured another shot of the brown liquid and then took the bottle of blue and poured some into the shot glass setting next to it. If his guess was right, that's what Camila had been drinking when he showed up.

She looked over and frowned at the sight of him drinking as well, but her mood changed when she saw him pour a shot of the blue. She sighed and pushed herself out of the chair. "Why do you persist, Ian? I'm not a good person."

The synthehol tasted well enough, but Ian put his shot glass on the table for the moment after filling it and slid the blue one over to Camila. "Because whether you like it or not, I'm your friend. And as far as not being a good person, we all have the Jekyll and Hyde, Vulcan and Nausicaan that we have to deal with. A lot of times it's better to have a friend to help deal. Even if all that friend does is sit and have a couple shots of synthehol with you." He paused for second to pick up his shot glass. "I'm not here to fix Camila, I'm here for Camila. Cheers."

"Salud," Camila said before she picked up her glass and tossed it back with a grimace. "I dun geddit, Ian," she slurred. "You got one of those thing, aye?"

Ian guessed that Camila had already been drinking for a while before he came in. But he planned to keep his mind about him as long as possible. And maybe the synth would help with that. "I did," he replied after tossing back his shot. "It was slipped in while I was in the transporter room. And then I was responsible for beaming the rest of the damn things aboard."

"How're you livin' with it?" she wanted to know.

"It ain't easy," he said as he leaned back on the couch. "It's always on my mind. I deal with it the same way I dealt with the crap after the Chimera incident...I withdraw. To a point this time around, though. Kelly helped me out of my funk shortly after I transferred aboard. I started making friends. I ran into you. This time...I withdrew into the Operations department instead of myself. That's why I didn't go anywhere. Then I remembered what she said about making friends and that's when you came to mind. Right after is when I started pestering you." He leaned forward and poured himself another shot of the amber colored liquid and sat back. "I guess I just live with it one day at a time."

"It knew that I was the Chief of Security and my oath to protect the crew and ship," Camila started. "As soon as I left the Scruna to go after Harvey, I started killing crew members. Well, it did. Every time I watched, I felt the thing gloat in my head, Ian. It knew I hated that and it deliberately did it. It used my body to breath the oath that I swore upon entering Security over and over and over." Tears started sliding down her cheeks as she spoke and she threw the shot glass she held across the room with a scream.

Ian nodded. It had been harder on Camila than it had been on him. But when she threw the shot glass and screamed, he startled. "I don't have any clue as to what it's like being in Security and I'm not going to pretend to." He watched the tears slide down her cheeks and took a deep breath in, unsure of himself at the moment. He got up, remembering what happened when he touched her on that back that one time, and walked over to the chair. He squatted down beside it and put his hands on the arm of the chair. "I didn't have your experiences, Camila. But I'm really sorry that you did. I hate it for you, hotshot. And if you ever want to scream, call for me. You can scream at my face, the back of my head...whatever. And if you want to throw some more shot glasses, same thing, call me up. I'm pretty good at ducking things."

She looked at him and tried to listen to his words but got stuck looking into his blue eyes and darkly handsome features. She found herself wanting to kiss him but wondered why; this wasn't the time or place and romance was the last thing she wanted. She remembered all the fun she'd had with him on the holodeck and at Harvey's party, but it all seemed to long ago. She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them again. "It's hard at the best of times," she said softly. "Even harder when you have no control over your own actions. Then you remember every detail of every event and it plays in your mind every moment of every day and you can't even escape it when you sleep."

She was just staring at him. So he stared back. It was the first time he'd really noticed that Camila's eyes were brown...or like the amber liquid he'd been drinking. Heh, drunk on her eyes...wait, where'd that come from? When she closed and reopened her eyes, it broke his concentration and he was once again focused on what she was saying. "I'd agree," replied, "it's hard. I remember watching Quinn beam back up with the jar. I wished I could have done something then. The flight deck...when the Captain showed up there and a firefight started, I was in the middle of it. No security training, only knowing how to fire phaser, going after the Captain," he trailed off a moment. "It wanted to kill him, Camila. Kill him good." He patted the arm of the chair and stood to move back to the couch. "But you're right, sleep has been luxury for weeks now."

"Ah, Huntsman, when did like get so complicated?" the ombre haired woman asked with sadness. "What happened to the carefree days of running around the Piazza San Marco in Venice, eating gelato until I was ready to explode, and not having to worry about who was trying to kill or possess you next? Maybe I should resign my commission and try to recapture those days."

He smiled. "Ah indeed, hotshot." He sat back down on the couch and sighed. "I imagine that those days went the way of my days of running through the gardens and forests outside of Rixx, pretending I was shooting arrows and saving princesses. But don't resign your commission. It wouldn't be the same around where without you. People would miss you."

"I just don't know what to do, Ian," Camila said. "Not anymore. I make all kinds of protocols to protect the crew, then I second guess myself with them and end up changing them again or not submitting them. I keep looking at all the ways they can be used against us and it's freezing me with indecision. Harvey approved of some of my more strict protocols and I still haven't submitted my final deployment summary of them to him."

"Everything on this ship can be used against us, Camila. That was just proven." He leaned forward and poured another amber shot for himself. "You can't let your protocols, strict or not, get in the way. Just try not to second guess yourself...as hard as that is. Your confidence in your own work is still in there, I believe it." He drank the shot and nodded to the bottles. "You want another one?"

"No." she said. "I don't know what I want. I'm tired of being responsible for everyone and at the same time, I want to protect them even more."

Ian set his shot glass on the table. "Well, I said I just go with one day at a time. Maybe that'll work for you. We probably still have quite a bit of time before things get back to normal operations. Start with tomorrow and be responsible for just you and protect you. Start small and work your way back up." He looked over to where he'd put the food earlier. "Do you have a place I could put that? For when you get hungry."

"I'd suggest the recycler, but I'm not that mean," Camila said. "For what it's worth, I appreciate the effort and it does smell good, so I'll try it."

"Hey, if you wanted it in the recycler, we could've put it in the recycler," he said. "Wouldn't have hurt my feelings any...it got me in the door," he added with a grin and a wink. "So let's give it a try." He opened the container with the Sfincione and cut it half. One half, he placed on the lid of the container and the other half he left in the container. He put a fork in there with it and handed it to Camila before he took the lid and another fork. "Never let it be said that Ian Beckett doesn't do fancy." He laughed, hoping that it would be contagious, and put a piece on his fork.

She watched him, then cocked her head as she accepted the container and fork. "That reminds me of some trivia that I learned in the Academy," she said. "Apparently, Chinese take-out restaurants in the twenty-first century used to design their containers to unfold into plates."

He paused with his fork near his mouth and looked at Camila, then down to his lid, and back to Camila. "Now why wouldn't something that convenient still be around? Or at least some version of it. You know, I never would have pegged you for trivia...ancient or otherwise. What other little known facts do you have? Any funny ones?" He took the bite that was lingering in front of his mouth.

"Not really, but you're right about it should still be around," Camila said but still didn't touch her food. "Maybe because it was made of real paper product?"

"Real paper product...yeah, I can that not lasting at all." The bite tasted good and he noticed that Camila hadn't bothered with hers yet. Ian put the lid down on the table in front of him and leaned forward. "Thanks for letting me in, Camila. I'm glad we have this chance to hang out again." He paused and smiled at her. "So how about that music. Did you ever get around to replicating a violin for yourself?"

"I think I did, but not sure where it's at," she said as she poked at the food with the fork. "It may be around here somewhere. A lot happened since then and I sort of had to re-prioritize things. If you want to look for it, go ahead but don't open the globe mini bar."

A lot had most certainly happened since that time. "I think I will, look for it that is, not open the globe mini bar." Ian got up to start looking for it. That fact that he was wondering around a woman's quarters, moving strewn clothes, and looking for a violin never occurred to him as being odd. "I thought you might have gone back to playing it on occasion. Especially with everything that's been happening." He found it and the bow leaned against a wall. "Maybe as an outlet or a song to soothe the savage Camila?" He brought it back over and sat down. "It's really nice, that's for sure. I bet you could really make it sing."

"You're killing me, Ian," the ombre haired woman said softly as she accepted it and the bow. "I don't even know where my music PADD is, but I'll wing it." She made a few adjustments to the string, then began to play softly with a sad melody that slowly picked up as she continued.

He chuckled at her comment before she started playing. "Uh, wow," said a wide-eyed Ian after she'd finished. "Pretty damn good for winging it, Hotshot." When the amazement began to subside, he smiled. "Thanks for the private concert, Camila. It was great; keep it up."

"It isn't the same without the other instrumentals, but thank you, Ian," Camila said with a faint smile as she set the violin down again but toyed with the bow.

"You're welcome," he said and noticed her somewhat smile. He tilted his head to the side, "There she is. There's the Camila that swung out on a vine and fell into a lake."

"I remember those days," she said. "Before I turned over the away team and helped kill a lot of people."

Ian wasn't sure that any words he might have would help. Having her talk was a good thing. Getting her back to the violin was a plus and hearing her play was even better. Camila needed to work through things she was dealing with. And she needed someone to just be around. "They were good days and there can be more like them." He got up and walked over to the chair. Holding out a hand near her shoulder, he asked, "May I?"

"Go ahead," Camila said as she eyed him, the bow still in her right hand. "The most that could happen is if you explode when you touch me."

"Meh, what a way to go." He placed that hand on her shoulder and when he didn't explode, he put the other one on the other shoulder. "Take a deep breath a relax, hotshot. Even if it's only for a minute or two." He began to slowly rub and massage her shoulders in the hopes of helping her relax a little.

"That works better when you're behind me," she said. "It's weird getting a massage from someone facing me. I promise I won't hurt you."

He laughed. What else could he have done. "Point taken." He walked around to the back of the chair and started over again. "There, how's that?"

"It hurts, Ian," Camila said softly. "Not the massage. It hurts inside of me to know that I was helpless in my own body. It hurts knowing that the parasite used me. It hurts knowing that nothing I did worked against it. I let everyone down, including myself. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't keep this up without getting some wins."

He continued to gently massage her shoulders and neck as he listened. "Yeah, only being able to sit in a corner in the back of your mind was painful. But you said that the Captain approved some of your more strict protocols. That's a win for the job. And you've got a persistent transporter chief that'll sit with you, listen to you, and give you a shoulder massage to help you relax. That's a win in the friend department. Two so far. I'd say that's a decent start."

"It is," she had to admit."Maybe you can find a way to transfer this guilt into space or somewhere. Trying to live with it just isn't enough at this point. I keep hearing and seeing everything and everyone over and over every time I close my eyes."

"I would if I could," he said, his compassionate side coming out a little more. "If could snap my fingers like Q and take it all away and send it to the Galactic Core, I would. But don't live with it alone. Find someone else that was possessed and let it all out. Maybe you'll start to be able to peacefully close your eyes for an hour two after a couple of weeks."

Camila sighed again. "That works both ways, Ian," she said finally with her head drooping as an effect of his massage. "I'm here when you need to talk, too."

"I know, Camila," he said. He watched her head droop and continued the massage. "I'll be around. You can't keep me away."

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