Posted by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Federation Security Agent) in Calloway’s Quarters - At Least We Aren’t Fighting About Money

Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Calloway’s Quarters - At Least We Aren’t Fighting About Money

Posted by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Federation Security Agent) in Calloway’s Quarters - At Least We Aren’t Fighting About Money
Micah took a breath before walking into the room. He looked around to make sure nothing was being weirded as a weapon before looking at Shara. “So… how mad at me are you really?” The words were humorous, but the tone was decidedly serious. He knew what this mission was doing to his wife… and he also knew what it meant.

Pikelsimer

Shara sat at her desk in her still mostly bare quarters, chair turned to the side. She had thought about decorating, about pulling things out that she had recently acquired or been gifted, but somehow it seemed wrong when she was being forced back undercover. One of the most important rules in her previous line of work was to leave as little evidence as possible. You could interact and influence people, but the physical proof you had been there? As next to nil as you could get. And it was easy enough to fall back into that state of mind, but she wholeheartedly resented the need.

The edge of her thumbnail slid over the desk, lifted and moved back, retracing a small invisible line. The repetitive motion was soothing in a way and it allowed her to gather her thoughts. “It’s easy to be angry, Pickle. You’ve put me in an impossible position with a crew that for the most part doesn’t get it and might not be able to pull this off. But I can blame you for that. Their blood won’t be on my hands.” Her voice wasn’t cold, just matter-of-fact, distant. She hadn’t even looked at him yet, not sure she could bring herself to let him see the fear sitting in the depths of her eyes.

“No, it won’t. It’ll be on mine, and I am fully aware of that fact.” Micah said softly.

Her shoulders dropped ever so slightly, head tipping down as she closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to do this anymore. I can’t keep myself in character, and if I do, if I find that… gift again, I’m not sure I can come out of it. Or if the things asked of me while I am in character will be too much. I don’t know who you’ll get in the aftermath. I don’t know that she’ll be the woman you fell in love with.” She had made promises, to him, to Nadine and Faye. She was breaking them already, and for someone who had avoided making promises most of her life, that was what really made her angry. And terrified.

~Shara, Scared Wife

Micah moved slowly around the desk and laid his flesh hand very gently on her shoulder. “You know how, hun… ya just don’t want to again. And if I’m being totally honest? I don’t either. If I had my druthers, I’d be back in Tennessee with you and the girls… fishin’ the creek… maybe showing Faye and the jolly green giant how to grow things in the dirt… and fallin’ asleep next to you every damn night. If only…” and he squeezed her shoulder before turning the chair so it faced him.

Right now she could imagine them sitting on the front porch of the cabin, coffees in hand, watching the sun rise up over the mountains their land was nestled amongst. Eyes still closed, she felt the fatigue even more than earlier when she had wandered into Sickbay hungover.

“But… if this don’t get done… and done right… there’s no tellin’ how bad shit’ll get before it gets better. And you and I are just awful about not letting other folks deal with the really bad stuff. So here we are.” and he touched under her chin and lifted her eyes to his.

Finally her foggy blue eyes opened again and met his and she knew he’d see that fear there, that terror that only people like them who had lived through the hells they had and promised to never again could feel. But he was right. They were too damn good at their jobs, too stubborn, too dedicated. It wasn’t about pride, it was about honour. Shara had known the moment Micah had walked into the ready room that despite her protests she would never flee this mission. It might damn her to hell, but she was here for the long haul.

“And there ain’t anyone else I want next to me when it gets rough. Because as long as you and are a team… ain’t no force in this universe gonna keep us from getting back home with as many of these folks as we can. And I’m damn sure ain’t no syndicate that has the sheer brass balls to try and manipulate our daughter and use her is gonna get away with it. And hun?” and he knelt in front of her and looked her in the eyes.

“That’s why I’m here. They used Faye… and I’m gonna make those f!#*ers pay for it. The rest is extra.”

Micah

Her jaw gritted even as tears pooled in her eyes. “If it was anything else, anyone else, you know I’d not be here.” Her words sounded strange to her, like the dangerous persona of Elaine she had adopted for this mission was not an act but something dredged up from somewhere darker. Because of course the best covers were based more on fact than fiction. The best were woven together so expertly not even loved ones fully knew what was real and what was an act.

Except Micah. He’d always know. He was the first person in decades she ever allowed herself to fully be seen by. He knew her heart, her darkness… and now he truly saw her fear. Her idle comments about not wanting to die in the Delta Quadrant were a fraction of what she was experiencing. Leaning forward, she let her forehead come to rest on his shoulder.

“I can’t sleep. The nightmares are worse than ever. It’s getting bad enough that I’m worried I won’t be on the ball. I’ll mess up and get someone killed. I always sleep better beside you, but this mission is so dangerous, Pickle. Anything can be used against us and it’s too big a risk for us being married, or even just a thing to be even gossip on the ship. The only people who know so far are the Captain and Bethy. But I miss you. Hell, you have the bigger quarters too. I know what I want, what I need, but tell me it’s stupid. Tell me it’s too big a risk. I know it, but I need to hear you say it.” Sleeping soundly beside her husband seemed like much better therapy than whatever nonsense the kid counsellor would dish out. She had had her fair share of therapy sessions and that one seemed out of his depth. Pity.

~Shara