Ensign Sariel Rager (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
visible_sariel) wrote2008-04-23 11:17 pm
visible_sariel) wrote2008-04-23 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
ship in a bottle and Aquiel missing scenes
The door to the bar doesn't appear in her closet when she expects it to. Part of her is certain that it will; it has to turn up at some point or other, hasn't it? The rest of her is worried, because Will could be turning black and blue in Sherwood or Kate's New York, and Harding is god knows where having god knows what done to him, and Yrael can take care of himself and river and Valerie have homes but she misses all three of them anyway, and gene... She still doesn't know about Gene. and that makes her worry that much more. Her closet swishes open, closed, open, closed again, almost every day. and it's open, clothes, open, clothes, every time. but the door has to turn up sooner or later, so she waits. And two months and a handful of days go by.
Time passes slowly, quickly, steadily. Some days the chronometer fairly crawls, marking seconds that feel like hours; it's a good thing when Commander Riker praises her piloting skills after she executes a delicate maneuver, and when they're all sitting on Em's floor telling stories in the semi-darkness of dimmed lights, but it's agony when the ship rocks in time with a hologram's criminal plans. Some days it races, blurring hours into the space of a blink, minutes into heartbeats. Off hours. Watch. Sleep. Happily repeat.
Never mind the one dark day in a fortnight. Never mind how the clock all but stops then.
They're in orbit around the communications relay station on the Klingon border, closing investigations and counting down hours, when Lian makes lieutenant. They all celebrate together, first crowded around a table in Ten Forward and passing plates of multicultural dinner from person to person, then in Lian's quarters with a replicated bottle of wine. Sariel has one glass, feels giddy, and sticks to fruit juice for the rest of the night the better to avoid a headache the next day. It's Em who calls in the morning to say she's swearing off alcohol; Sariel giggles and empathizes, but knows that Tyler doesn't mean a word of what she grumbles down the comm line.
They've just left the border and are aiming for more friendly sectors of space when Sariel tries her closet door again. Her shift ended an hour before, and she's somewhere between mellow and pleasantly tired. Open, clothes, close. Open... huh. That's been a while in showing up.
Time passes slowly, quickly, steadily. Some days the chronometer fairly crawls, marking seconds that feel like hours; it's a good thing when Commander Riker praises her piloting skills after she executes a delicate maneuver, and when they're all sitting on Em's floor telling stories in the semi-darkness of dimmed lights, but it's agony when the ship rocks in time with a hologram's criminal plans. Some days it races, blurring hours into the space of a blink, minutes into heartbeats. Off hours. Watch. Sleep. Happily repeat.
Never mind the one dark day in a fortnight. Never mind how the clock all but stops then.
They're in orbit around the communications relay station on the Klingon border, closing investigations and counting down hours, when Lian makes lieutenant. They all celebrate together, first crowded around a table in Ten Forward and passing plates of multicultural dinner from person to person, then in Lian's quarters with a replicated bottle of wine. Sariel has one glass, feels giddy, and sticks to fruit juice for the rest of the night the better to avoid a headache the next day. It's Em who calls in the morning to say she's swearing off alcohol; Sariel giggles and empathizes, but knows that Tyler doesn't mean a word of what she grumbles down the comm line.
They've just left the border and are aiming for more friendly sectors of space when Sariel tries her closet door again. Her shift ended an hour before, and she's somewhere between mellow and pleasantly tired. Open, clothes, close. Open... huh. That's been a while in showing up.