Snip

Dagen’s head swiveled at the glassy clang and clatter and the sound of it skittering and landing somewhere. He imagined some repair was going to be needed on that unit, but it was Reia’s jerky, abrupt, and very angry motions that got his attention. What? What did he miss here? What was going on? How had this gone South like this? He glanced over to the console. And he was trying to fix one of her issues for her. In Thor’s lifetimes this was .. apparently new, even if Lin was female and could be emotional too. About to say something, Reia got to it first.

“If you’ll remember, I’m half Orion. Those pheromones that get your heart pumping also make my body temperature hotter than the average Human’s and definitely hotter then you, my dear Trill husband. And if you can’t even listen when I’m trying to talk to you, don’t even bother trying to find us some lovely little planet hot, cold, or otherwise. I wanted to know why this was important to you but I guess it’s not. I’m going to bed, screw the environmental controls.”

• Reia

Yeah, like that is hard to forget, he thought regarding the half Orion part. And both parts were stomping to their room and passing like a storm front. He didn’t remember that question, or hearing it. He had been focused on fixing one problem. As she disappeared, he scratched at the back of his neck. Now he had two. Dagen had, since his leave of absence with Starfleet, gotten a bit of a checkered past and sticky problems, but this one was not a quick fix. The environmental controls were the easier of the two.

He let out a sigh. The environmental thing was bugging him, moreso that he didn’t notice it and that it was big for Reia. This conversation was bugging him as it had been, in his imagination, a simple talk, and it was anything but. Shoving off the chair he felt not unlike a knight about to face the dragon, not forgetting that most said knights, became the next bbq. Slowly moving to their room he tried to formulate what to say. A great deal did come to mind, but what ..

As he came into the room, he stopped just inside. “Reia, I’m .. I’m sorry.” That was about as far as his thinking went
Dagen

By the time Dagen had stepped into the doorway Reia had slipped out of her robe and into bed. She had taken one of the journals her grandmother had sent her and began writing in it as she did in times of frustration or stress. Dagen’s voice did, however, cut through all of that. Sighing, she set the old style journal and pen back on the night stand.

Ohhh .. the journal. Was it that bad? Dagen thought to himself. That usually didn’t come out unless there was big time things happening in her, and he winced, knowing that he was the cause of this one.

“I think I am too but it would help if we both knew what we were sorry for.” she said patting the bed beside her.

• Reia

He didn’t ignore the gesture, the olive branch, as he had heard many Terrans say and moved over and slowly sat. “I’m guessing I was pushy.” He paused. “I think this is exciting. I .. I guess I let that trample all over you.” He let out a soft, if long, sigh and reached out to cover her hand with his. The warmth was not alien, like he feared it might be in these heated moments, but familiar. He was still bothered yes, but the sensation of the touch brought to his, not mind, but inner being, that they were a unit. Separate but not separate. And that this was not beyond hope. The fight, or the issue.
- Dagen