Post by Deleted on Jun 9, 2013 13:50:44 GMT -8
I have posted this elsewhere on the board, but this felt like a better home for it. The story is Lia and Greg's; the tale of their time together on the planet they were marooned on, and how they came to be together.
In case you're not aware of the characters below, a dramatis personae;
Commander Liandra Jones (later Barlow), Executive Officer of the USS Crudaigh
Commander Boribeth Sunland, CMO of the USS Crudaigh
Lieutenant Commander Jack Carter, Chief Engineer of the USS Crudaigh
Lieutenant Gregory Barlow, ACMO of the USS Crudaigh
The Crudaigh sent a diplomatic and medical team down to a planet requiring aid. The team consisted of Lia, Greg, Beth and Jack. Then, for reasons that they never learned, the Crudaigh was called away from the planet, saying they'd be back in a few days. The ship never came back for them, and in the end they waited almost a year for another Starfleet ship to come and rescue them. By that time, a lot had happened...
The story below really just tells what happened to Lia and Greg. Jack and Beth don't feature much in this story, but they are mentioned. It's the highlights version, and I may add in more later. But for now, it's just as it is. Enjoy.
Greg looked at the small travel bag he'd brought with him, and his first, irrational thought was that he wished he'd brought some more reading material. A week, they'd told him. He'd only packed three uniforms, a handful of PADDs, toiletries and a towel. He'd always been one to pack light anyway, so why would he need more? Just a basic field kit. The crate of medical equipment, sent down from the ship, was larger than his personal effects.
And then, when the ship missed their first check-in, he'd begun to wonder if perhaps he should have packed more comprehensively.
And then, when they missed the second, he suspected another uniform might not have gone amiss.
And now, when the message came through from Starfleet Command that they weren't going anywhere for the foreseeable future, he stared down at the bag and berated himself that he'd worried about uniforms, or books, or any of it.
The locals had been very kind about it, and showed them to a small two-storey hut on the edge of town, promising their hospitality to the unfortunate stranded officers who were only there in the first place to treat an illness and barter trade. It only had two bedrooms, and Greg wondered if that was because it was all they could spare, or if they'd just assumed that two men and two women must be two couples.
Commander Jones had insisted he have the other bedroom, but he'd stubbornly refused. He wasn't sure what use any of their ranks would be to anyone anymore, but he felt she deserved that last mark of respect that he could show her. At least she could have a lie-in once in a while without someone else traipsing past her bed and waking her up in the early hours of the morning.
Carter had gone straight to work on improving the kitchen equipment, and Greg pondered his limited culinary abilities. He'd need a new skill set now, he reasoned. With two doctors amongst their number, patching a scratched hand would be less important than making furniture or cooking lunch.
"Are you sure about this?"
He looked up to see Commander Jones hesitating on the foot of the stairs, and nodded.
"Because you should really-"
He raised a hand and she stopped immediately.
"Honestly, ma'am, I'm sure," he said.
She hesitated again, and then nodded.
"OK," she said. "But I think perhaps you can stop calling me ma'am, now. Lia. You can call me Lia."
She'd always struck him as the sort who took protocol very seriously, and he wondered how difficult it was for her to suggest that a mere Lieutenant use her first name.
"Pleased to meet you, Lia," he said, dryly. "I'm Greg."
She gave him half a smile, which Greg considered a small victory, then nodded and turned and made her way upstairs.
Lia.
A pretty name. He suspected she could be very pretty too, if you got behind the stiff exterior. She was probably positively radiant, if you could get her to laugh.
He resolved to do his best to find out.
Lia knew she'd wished for some extra leave time, but this really wasn't what she'd had in mind.
She was sat at the table in the strange dining room come kitchen that they'd been slowly trying to make their own for the last few days, since they got the news they'd be staying a while and had been shown to this odd little cottage. To her left, looking far too comfortable with the situation was the doctor who had once been her assistant chief medical officer, Gregory Barlow. To her right, totally engrossed in some thingumy he'd taken apart, was her former chief engineer, Jack Carter. And there she was, sat in the middle, pushing scrambled eggs around her plate with very little intention of eating them.
She'd never been much of a cook, and she would definitely have been the first to admit that. She could make something edible enough for an away mission, but she'd never really learnt to make things taste anything better than acceptable, and the eggs in front of her were a very good example of how average her culinary skills really were.
"If you'd like, I can make you something else."
Lia looked up from her plate, surprised that Barlow had said anything, really. They'd all been very quiet those last few days. Lia suspected they were all still coming to terms with their new situation.
"I'm sorry?"
"You don't seem to be enjoying that," he said, indicating to her plate, which was still almost as full as when she'd sat down. "It must be cold by now, anyway. I've been practicing a sort of omelette thing. If you'd like to try it, I'd happily make you one." He gave her an odd sort of half-smile. "And if it's no better than what you've got I won't be at all offended if you feed it to the birds."
She considered both him and his offer for a moment. She supposed nothing he made could really be any worse than her attempt at breakfast, but she couldn't help wondering why he'd even offered.
"That would be very kind of you," she said, diplomatically.
He nodded, pushing his chair back from the table and making his way to the stove.
"No problem," he said, his tone of voice as affable as if someone had asked him to pass the salt. "Carter?"
"Jack," replied Jack, distractedly, as he was obviously concentrating on the thing in his hands. "And yeah. Please."
Greg nodded and started work. Lia watched him with interest.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for the cooking type," she said, honestly, after a few minutes.
Greg laughed ever so slightly.
"Neither would I, last week," he said. "But needs must. And I like to learn new skills, so it's no hardship."
A few more minutes of awkward silence passed, then he came back to the table with two plates, depositing one in front of Lia and the other in front of Jack. Jack mumbled some thanks, and Lia picked up her fork and tried a mouthful of the fluffy yellow mound on her plate.
"Oh my god," she managed, through a mouthful of surprisingly good egg. She looked up at Greg, who was looking a little smug. He knew, she was pretty sure, that he'd outdone himself in the egg department. "This is amazing. You realise you've just got yourself hired, right?"
Greg gave her a small nod, then sat back down at the table.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, with a small smile.
Lia stared up at the sky. Somewhere beyond those twinkling points of light, in the blackness that was space, somewhere the Crudaigh was out there. It had been nearly a month now since she’d stepped onto the transporter pad, bound with Greg, Beth and Jack for this rock of a planet. Nearly a month since she’d last seen Brice.
And what a last moment. She’d shouted at him, told him he wasn’t the man she remembered, told him that when she got back they were going to have to talk. When she got back. Seemed like a fool’s confidence, now.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Was he out there, looking at the stars and thinking of her? Or had he decided she was dead, grieved and moved on? Or had Starfleet got their message and sent the Crudaigh on its way, too important to sit around and wait for four officers, insignificant in the grand scheme of things?
There was a cracking sound and Lia’s head whipped around, her training not dulled by the month she’d spent down here on the planet. Tense at first, she relaxed as she realised that it was Greg Barlow.
“Hi,” she mumbled, and pulled her legs a little tighter. He gave her half a smile and sat down on the ground next to her.
“Hi,” he replied. There was a moment of silence, and Lia wondered if he’d come out here to seek her purposefully or if it was just a co-incidence. “You’ve been quiet.” So not a coincidence, then. She smiled at him, a little sadly.
“Sorry,” she said, sighing. “I don’t mean to be a mood killer. I know that with Beth and Jack spending time together you’re often left stuck with me for company, and I know I’ve not been the best of it, this last week.”
He shook his head and laughed very softly.
“You’re a good person to be stuck with,” he said, simply. “And if anyone ever told you differently then you should have them shot.”
Lia laughed, despite herself. Greg’s dry humour had a tendency to make her smile, even when she felt she had no smiles left.
“Perhaps,” she said. There was another pause, but it felt more comfortable, less expectant than the first. “I think I’ve finally realised they’re not coming back for us.”
Greg’s face turned a bit darker, and he nodded, sighing a little. Lia supposed he’d known that for some time, but then, he seemed to be a realist. Not so much as an idealist as her, still clinging to some old fashioned notion that Brice was going to come back on a white horse and rescue them. You know now that he wouldn’t.
“Starfleet will send someone,” he said, and Lia wondered if that was supposed to be some attempt on his part at cheering her up. “But Captain Kavanaugh won’t be seeing us again for a very long time.”
“He probably argued,” she said, more to convince herself than Greg. “I can’t see Brice just letting them tell him to go on without us.” Using Brice’s name around Greg didn’t seem wrong somehow; he was her friend now, just like Beth and Jack. Funny how strange situations throw you in with people you would never usually consider spending more than half an hour with. She looked at him, his serious, straight face with only the tiniest hint of a smile that belied the dry wit underneath. Now, she wasn’t sure she could imagine not having his sarcasm and dependable silent strength around all the time.
“Good officers do as they’re told,” he said, simply. “You know that.”
She nodded; she did know that. And yet, she was sure Brice would have complained anyway. Bitterly, far more than he should have. Talked about resigning his commission to come and find them. And then, at the end of it, reneging on his threat and giving in. Just like he’d done when he’d promised to tell everyone about their relationship. She sighed. Sounded like a good idea at the time…
They sat in silence again for a few more moments. Lia felt like she was on the verge of something, emotionally. Most likely another flood of tears, the fourth this week. She wasn’t usually the sort to cry much; before getting stuck here she was sure she could count every time she’d really, properly cried in the last ten years on her two hands. But something about being here was upsetting her; perhaps it was coming to terms with the fact that, at the end of it all, Brice hadn’t given up everything for her. Whatever she’d believed her felt for her… maybe she’d been wrong.
“I miss him,” she whispered, her words laced with heartache that she couldn’t shake. Greg didn’t say anything, just reached out and put his arm around her shoulder. The embrace was comforting, another thing that Greg seemed to subtly do so well, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He hugged her gently, thumb rubbing the top of her arm.
“I know.” Lia closed her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears that she feared would come any minute. “But you don’t need him.”
Her eyes opened again and she tensed a little. Wasn’t he wrong? Didn’t she need Brice, her life-long friend, her soul mate, like she needed the air, water, freedom? She missed him, she hurt and ached that she’d never see him again… but somehow, she knew she could go on without him. And I will, too.
“No, I don’t.” The surety of her words surprised even herself. I don’t.
“You’re not alone here, you know.” Lia reached out and took Greg’s other hand in hers. His skin was slightly warmer than hers, but not by much. Gently, she squeezed his hand as she closed her eyes again.
“I know.”
Lia and Beth were dancing. The four of them didn’t come down into the village too much at night, since the locals were a little too fond of tucking up in bed early. But occasionally they’d have some big feast and party, and, in the spirit of looking after their strange neighbours, they’d get an invite. Most times they went. It would seem rude not to.
That night, they’d had their food. Now was the more… party-esque section of the evening. Greg was sitting on one of the chairs around the room, waiting for Jack to get back with their drinks, and watching Beth and Lia in the middle of the room, dancing away with the rest of the locals.
They’d been here maybe a month and a half now. Greg had resigned himself a long time back to the idea that they weren’t going to be rescued any time soon. Settling into life here on the planet hadn’t been as hard as he’d thought, either. Perhaps it was the people that he had the fortune to be stranded with.
A local man collapsed down into the chair next to Greg. He was breathing heavily, but had a big smile on his face. Greg immediately diagnosed him with too much dancing, a common affliction at such gatherings.
“So tired,” he said, grinning at Greg nonetheless. “But when she asks, you can’t say no, can you?”
Greg raised an eyebrow at him.
“When who asks?” he asked, curiously.
“The woman you love,” replied the other man, as if Greg was a bit dense in the head. A woman appeared from nowhere, and grabbed the other man’s hand. “See, here’s mine,” he said, with a grin, as he pushed himself up from his chair again and disappeared back into the crowd. Greg smiled to himself and shook his head. He didn’t dance.
Jack seemed to be taking forever, so Greg closed his eyes a moment and let himself feel the beat of the music. He loved to listen to the music here; it had an ambling, almost accidental quality to it that made it constantly surprising. Much of the music he'd grown up listening to was rooted in tradition and convention; as a result, he'd always been drawn to experimental melodies.
Opening his eyes, he realised that Lia was stood right in front of him.
“Come on,” she said, holding her hand out for him. “Come and dance.”
He blinked at her.
“What?” Something about her being there and asking that took him by surprise, as if her query was an extension of the unpredictability of the music.
She just laughed back at him.
“Come and dance. With me.” He looked at her, the firelight reflected in her eyes. They seemed to dance enticingly, beckoning him to follow her. He could smell the subtle scent of her, the scent he’d been noticing for weeks around the house without being able to say exactly what it was. For a moment his heart seemed to skip in his chest, then without thinking he reached out and took her hand.
A smile crept across her face as he took her hand in his. Her skin was so soft, inviting like her gaze was.
“Please, Greg.”
His heart skipped again, and suddenly he felt he knew what the man had been talking about. He didn’t dance, he never danced. And yet, right now, all of a sudden, he didn’t want to do anything but stand with Lia, hold her, move to the beat of the music with her. And all because she’d asked.
“Alright.”
Her smile grew wider as he let her pull him to his feet. She guided him across the makeshift dancefloor, put her hands up on his shoulders in anticipation. He put his arms around her waist and, unable to resist, pulled her closer to him. She only smiled in return, unresisting.
The music changed, a faster tempo, and Lia started to move. Under his hands, Greg could feel her hips undulating to the rhythm, her body brushing against his. His hands moved off her waist, sinking a little lower to hold her where she swayed, allowing him to feel her moving. She followed his move, sliding her hands down his sides, resting them on his hips. He could swear his throat had dried up as she did so, her hands across his body.
“You have to move,” she murmured, her voice sounding to Greg like honey. Gently she pulled him towards her, closing the gap between them and moulding him to her so they could move together. He followed her movements, each beat of the music one step closer to losing himself in the moment. By the time the music ended, he found himself wrapped in her, their heads together, bodies together, inseparable.
“I need a drink,” she whispered in his ear, her voice light and airy like the wind. Greg could do little but nod as she smiled coyly at him and pulled away, flitting off to the bar.
He watched her go, his heart conflicted. In that moment, he knew it. He’d fallen in love with Lia Jones. Utterly and hopelessly. And he had no idea if she’d ever feel the same.
The middle of the day was hot here. The heat made her sleepy, and in the first few weeks Lia hadn’t been able to do much but hide in the house when the midday sun was up in the sky.
As time went on, she’d acclimatised herself a bit better to the weather, and now she was capable of at least lying around outside in the shade, or moving around and doing things inside the house.
Today, she’d decided she was going to have a bit of a tidy-up in the house. As she’d come to the realisation that Starfleet wasn’t going to be there any time soon, she’d started to want to see an order about the place that hadn’t been there before.
She started with her own room, but there wasn’t much to tidy there. Just a big bed, well, big for here, a small table, a set of drawers. She left Beth and Jack’s room of course, and headed downstairs. There were only two rooms downstairs; the kitchen with the table for eating, though most days they’d eat outside, and the lounge area that doubled up as Greg’s sleeping quarters.
Moving around, she picked up odds and ends that were scattered around and put them neatly on the table in the middle of the room. Then she turned and looked at what could once have been a sofa, but was now Greg’s bed.
The sheets were straight, even, ordered. In this mass of chaos, somehow Greg’s space remained an oasis of calm and order. Lia wondered how he managed.
Thoughtfully, she ran her fingers across the blanket. It got cold here, at night, which was an odd contrast to the daytime. Greg always claimed he was warm enough down here, but Lia wasn’t sure that he wasn’t just saying that because he felt he ought to. Like the fact that he had let her sleep upstairs, take the second bedroom, despite the fact that she’d said she should have the sofa, as the senior officer.
Senior officer… that seemed like such a long time ago already. Here, rank was something that no-one mentioned, no-one needed. Why would she? Here she needed her friends. Didn’t need to be reminded of Starfleet, of the Crudaigh… of Brice, and how he’d never come back for her.
She sank down onto the blanket, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t hers to sink onto. The fleece was soft under her fingers.
The tears were threatening again. They’d gotten less frequent recently, but still… whenever she thought of Brice, of the way things had ended, she couldn’t help it. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if really they hadn’t just been heading for this anyway. If this hadn’t just sped up the inevitable…
The front door banged shut, and Lia looked up, suddenly feeling guilty as she saw Greg come in. He stopped in the doorway, looking at her. She blinked, and then stood hurriedly, smoothing the blanket where she’d creased it.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, rubbing irritatedly at her itching eyes. Greg sighed and crossed the room towards her. She turned around, and he was right in front of her.
“Shh,” he said. “Stop apologising. It’s your house too.” Lia sighed, and Greg sat down on the bed, pulling Lia down next to him with a gentle tug on her arm. “Come on, sit down.”
She sat down again, reluctantly.
“It’s your bed, though,” she muttered, miserably. Greg just laughed, gently.
“And you’re welcome to sit on it any time you please, all the same.” He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You were thinking about Brice again, weren’t you?” he said, after a moment’s pause. Lia hesitated, then nodded. Greg sighed in response. “It’s been three months, Lia.”
She closed her eyes.
“I know.” She squeezed the hand holding hers. “But sometimes it just feels like last week.”
He let go her hand and put his arm around her shoulder instead. Tired, Lia let him pull her towards him, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
“You’re too good to me,” she mumbled. Greg laughed again in response.
“No,” he said, softly. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Greg was watching them play. Lia, Beth and Jack all taking part in some game that involved throwing and catching a large fruit they were using in place of a more appropriate ball. They were down on the beachside by the lake, the coarse sand crunching every time one of them moved to catch or throw the fruit to one another. Greg was sat on one of the blankets they used for so many things here; bedclothes, towels, cloaks, tablecloths and so much more.
He wasn’t sure who was winning; he wasn’t even sure that the game had rules. But they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially Lia, who was showing the first really genuinely joyous smile that he’d seen on her face in quite some time. It suited her, he’d decided. To see her beaming with delight, her eyes shining with laughter… he’d promised himself that he’d make her this happy again, every day if he could.
Someone dropped the fruit and it hit the sand with a soft thwump. Lia stood still, catching her breath with her hands on her hips as she waited for Beth or Jack to retrieve it, both of whom were closer to the fallen item than she. Greg watched her; the rise and fall of her chest as she got her breath back, the subtle curves of her body not quite hidden under the strange clothing that everyone here wore, something between a dress and wide trousers.
She was, he decided, thoroughly magnificent.
The ball was up, and they started throwing it back and forth again. Another missed aim, this time from Lia, sent it careering in his direction, and it stopped, falling to the ground with a thump a metre or so in front of him. A small smile gracing his lips he moved forward and picked it up, looking up to see if someone was coming for it.
“Well? Throw it back!” Lia’s voice was light, merry. She put her hands on her hips again, probably unaware that it accentuated them, made Greg’s attention more drawn to the shape of her figure.
“My aim is worse than yours,” he said, almost deadpan but with the tiniest hint of mirth. “Come fetch it.”
She gave him a mock-put-out look for a moment, then started over. Her progress was made slower by the shifting sands under her feet, and Greg wondered if the sway of her hips as she walked was caused by the same thing, or if he’d just started noticing it more recently.
Finally, she made it to him, reaching out her hands for the offending fruit.
“Hand it over, then,” she said, her eyes still twinkling, leaving Greg feeling his breath catch a little in his throat. He shook his head slowly, deliberately in response.
“Say please,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. She seemed to respond to the sultry tone he’d taken, and she knelt down on the sand in front of him.
“Please,” she said, her eyes locked with his, her tone warm and inviting. Greg could feel a lump in his throat from the gaze she sent his way. Was this just the excitement of the warm evening, was this her finally letting go of her cares and worries for a moment and just being… Lia?
Or had she finally begun to feel for him what he’d been hoping for the last few months that she might begin to feel?
Whatever it was, Greg knew he had fallen for it, totally and completely. If she would look into his eyes and give him that look and speak to him in such low, sultry tones, he would give anything to have her continue to do it. Love, he mused, was a curious thing. You could plan and prepare as much as you liked, but at the end of the day when she found you… there was nothing you could do but fall hopelessly in love with her.
He held out the fruit for her to take.
“Anytime,” he whispered, his gaze on her intense despite his best promises to himself that he’d not push her, not scare her.
She smiled at him, a smile that almost made his heart stop. Her eyes twinkled, and for a moment they just stared at one another, caught up in their mutual gaze.
And then she pushed up from the ground, grabbed the fruit, and skipped her way back through the sand to the others. Greg watched her go and inhaled, suddenly aware that he wasn’t sure of the last time he breathed.
Oh, Lia.
"So this is new."
Greg looked up at the sound of Lia's voice. Her words had a light, playful tone to them, and he smiled despite himself.
She had a way of doing that to him, he'd found.
"Actually, everything here is quite old. Cultures have been carving wood for thousands of years, and this tree was almost certainly at least twice as old as us put together when it was cut down."
His tone was scholarly, almost like he was delivering a lecture to some first year students, though the glint in his eyes was probably a bit of a giveaway that he was enjoying himself. He did so love encouraging her to a duel of wit and words; Lia had a way of lighting up when her intellect was challenged.
"You know exactly what I mean," she replied, her hands on her hips. "I'm quite sure I've never seen you with a chisel in hand before."
Greg put the chisel down on the table.
"I fixed the table last month," he said.
Lia raised an eyebrow at him.
"With a chisel?"
Greg shrugged.
"With carpentry tools."
Lia pushed at a solitary curl of wood shaving with her foot.
"And I suppose you're going to tidy this up, too?"
Greg smiled. He knew he very rarely gave her cause for complaint when it came to his tidiness. Jack left stuff all over the place, but Greg was generally very tidy. He also knew Lia thought he was tidy too, thanks to that one evening where they'd all drunk a little too much of those local spirits, Lia and Beth in particular, and started that game of truth or dare. After Jack and Beth had disappeared Lia had insisted they kept playing, and although he could include a trip up the tallest tree in their garden in his exploits of that night, he also had a catalogue of secrets of Liandra Jones that she probably couldn't even remember telling him. Like her favourite flowers, and the first boy she'd kissed, and her biggest fear, and what she liked best about Beth, and Jack, and him.
He planned to put all of those things to use, in his own time.
"I always tidy up after myself," he said. "I'd never give you extra work to do. I know you care a great deal about the state of the kitchen floor."
She smiled wryly at him, rolled her eyes, then disappeared out of the room. Greg watched her go and gazed at the door, lost in a memory.
"And me, go on. What do you like best about me?"
Lia giggled.
"You just want me to say nice things about you," she mumbled.
"Well, obviously. Doesn't everyone?"
She laughed again.
"Mmmk." She looked at him very intensely for a moment, and Greg felt his heart skip a little, the way it always did when she held his gaze. "You always make me smile, y'know? No matter what. I can be having the worst day, or... Anything. And you always know what to say."
Greg smiled, suddenly at once proud and self conscious. It hadn't been at all what he'd expected her to say.
"And since we're on the topic," she continued, adorably determinedly all of my sudden for someone who was lying on the sofa, "you should return the favour. C'mon. Something good about me."
He looked at her, lying there with her flushed cheeks and self-satisfied triumphant smirk, her skirt tangled around her legs and her hair mostly fallen out of the elegant up-do she'd started the evening with. He could think of a million things to say about her, but none of them seemed right. He had to think about his answer, he knew; something that showed her he cared but didn't pressure her, didn't give too much of his feelings away and-
"You're beautiful," he said, his mouth most definitely engaging before his brain, the words escaping in a single honest breath and laden with a wealth of longing and admiration that he really hadn't meant to let out.
There was a moment of silence and Greg kicked himself mentally for being such an idiot.
Then Lia grinned, and smiled adoringly at him.
"See? There you go again," she said, softly. "Always making me smile."
Lia wondered exactly when it was that Greg had become so damn attractive.
They’d decided, the four of them, that they’d dress up tonight. Find the best things they could from the market and really go to town on the food, the drinks, the candles… everything. Six months of being here by themselves, they’d thought, was a reason enough to celebrate.
She wasn’t sure when their isolation had become so comfortable. Four friends living in the easiest of places, where most things were free and the things that weren’t… well, they’d learnt to live without them. What was there for them, out there in space, anyway? Here they had happiness, peace and each other. Looking around the table that evening, Lia was fairly sure that at the end of the day, they were all that mattered anyway.
After they’d finished eating, they’d finished up the bottle of local wine that Jack had found for them. Beth and Jack disappeared off, as they often did, and left Lia and Greg sat at the table. He looked up and smiled at her, and Lia, feeling warm and replete and slightly lightheaded, was suddenly struck by how attractive he was.
“Do you want to go walk by the lake?” He knew the lake was her favourite place, here. The water moved in and out a little, the smallest of tides causing tiny waves on the shore, and though they were inland it felt all the world to Lia like a beach.
She smiled and nodded, standing so that he could take her arm. He did that sort of thing; the gentlemanly sort of thing.
Silently, they fell in step beside one another, following the path down from their small house until they could hear the rustle of the water.
“You look beautiful, tonight, you know,” said Greg, as they came to a stop on the edge of the sand. Lia turned and looked at him, eyes bright with pleasure at the compliment.
“And you look terribly handsome yourself,” she murmured, unable to keep the smile off her face as she looked at him. “This outfit suits you.”
He laughed a little, the rare sound that Lia had come to adore and try and coax out of him at any possible opportunity.
“I’ll bear that in mind when I restock my wardrobe,” he said, dryly. She smiled a little wider and span round to face him, slipping her arms around his waist easily. He didn’t even hesitate; his arms wrapped around her a moment later, pulling her half a step closer to him. She was suddenly aware of how close he was, and her heart skipped a beat. So attractive, and so close…
“You should,” she whispered, not trusting herself to say anything else in case she let slip something she might regret in the morning. They lapsed into a moment of silence, as they looked at one another. She felt oddly comfortable here, more comfortable than she knew she really had any right to be in the arms of a friend.
“Lia?”
She liked the way her name sounded on his lips. He said it softly, almost tenderly.
“Mmhm?” Subconsciously she pulled herself a little closer to him. He was so warm, and the breeze coming off the lake was ever so slightly chilly.
“Are you happy, tonight?” His eyes had creased a little in worry, and immediately she wanted to smooth away the lines of anxiety.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “More happy than I can remember being in a long time.”
His face relaxed into a smile, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder, wrapped up in him.
“Good,” he replied, simply, and kissed the top of her head. The pressure was light and almost silent, but Lia felt a contentment spread through her as his lips touched her head that she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. She smiled almost smugly to herself and snuggled her head into his shoulder.
She'd expected it to have faded by the time she woke up.
So when Lia opened her eyes to the sunrise and the chirping of birds in the trees outside her window, she was surprised to find that the first thing in her mind was not her plans for the day, or the strange dreams she'd been having, or what she was going to wear, but Greg.
Greg, holding her by the lake. Greg, kissing the top of her head. Greg, walking her home and letting her lean on him as they walked down the path and lacing his fingers casually in hers as they came round the corner by the trees and kissing her forehead as he wished her goodnight.
Maybe the wine had been stronger than she thought.
She hurried herself out of bed, dressed quietly and slipped silently down the stairs, standing on the bottom step looking out into the lounge. Greg was still asleep, his face blank and unreadable as he slumbered. And yet, as she looked at him she couldn't help but see that slight quirk of a smile, those caring eyes.
I need to get out of here.
Luckily, she had shopping to do in the market. Glancing one final time at Greg, she stepped silently off the bottom step and breezed through to the kitchen, picking up an empty basket, and headed out the front door.
The noise of the door banging made Greg look up, just in time to see Lia barrel into the room. She looked distressed, her hair half-fallen out of its bow as if she’d been running, and Greg was immediately concerned.
“Lia? What’s the matter?” He pushed himself up from his chair and caught her as she practically ran into his arms.
“Gella in the village,” she said, panting, more good evidence that she’d run full tilt to get back here. “She said that you… you and Prinna…” Greg ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders and practically felt her shiver under his touch. “Tell me it’s not… it’s not true… I…”
Greg reached out, silencing her with a finger rested on her lips.
“Shh,” he said, and she stopped talking. Her eyes were wide, almost fearful, and Greg wondered what anyone in the village could have possibly said about him that would have made her that upset. “Tell me slowly.” He took his finger away.
“She said Prinna is after you,” she said, quietly, torn between being dejected and being worried. “That you’ll be married before next moon.”
Greg stared at Lia for a minute, then burst out laughing.
“Oh Lia…” He shook his head, and pulled her into a tight embrace for a moment. She clung to the front of his coat, even after he pulled back from her so that he could see her face. “I would never. Prinna is a cow, and besides…” He cupped her face gently with his hands and smiled at her softly. “In case it has entirely escaped your notice, which I’m beginning to think it has, I’m rather hopelessly in love with you.”
Lia blinked at him, her mouth gaping open. She seemed almost unable to believe what he’d said, perhaps worried that she’d dreamt it. For an indeterminably long moment she stared at him, unmoving.
“Oh,” she said, quietly. He smiled, a little more tentatively.
“Is that all you’re going to say?” Now it was Greg’s turn to be nervous. Despite everything she’d said and done in the last few weeks… had he misread? Misunderstood? Perhaps she wasn’t ready yet, perhaps she wasn't going to return his affections or-
Her lips meeting his broke across his internal monologue of increasing panic. Furiously she kissed him and he immediately responded, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her.
She loves me.
He felt like a thousand birds had just been released inside his chest, his soul soaring as she mirrored him, slipping her arms around him easily. It was everything he’d fantasised about, kissing Lia; soft and gentle yet desperate and passionate… a conundrum, just like the woman in his arms.
She pulled back with a small gasp, and a big smile on her face.
“I love you too,” she murmured.
She tugged on his arm gently as she pulled him up the small staircase behind her. Chancing a look backwards, she saw his shining eyes, his happy smile, and she knew that she was sporting a similar look. Giggling a little she turned back to face up the stairs and pulled him up the last few steps.
There were only two doors at the top, and Lia pulled Greg through the one on the right. Inside, she made straight for the bed, the main dominating feature of the room, pulling Greg down on top of her where he landed with an ‘oomph’.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he murmured, then leant forwards and captured her lips with a kiss. She grinned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You just didn’t want to sleep on the couch anymore,” she giggled, kissing the end of his nose. He laughed, heartily, a noise she’d so rarely heard, and rolled next to her on the bed. Instinctively, she followed him, rolling to face him so that they were face-to-face on the bed.
“Sure,” he said. “That must be it.” Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Nothing to do with the magnificent woman in front of me at all.” His voice was a little husky, and Lia could feel the effect it was having on her already. “This beautiful lady…” He leant forwards again, kissing her more passionately this time. She responded by trailing her hands down from his neck to the front of his shirt.
“Dammit,” she mumbled, realising that this tunic thing didn’t have any buttons. Greg pulled back, shaking his head at her in a playful manner.
“So eager,” he murmured, tracing the outline of her body with his free hand. “Anyone would think you liked what you saw.”
Lia growled a little. “Mmhm,” she mumbled, capturing his lips again. “What’s not to like?” He broke away and in one fluid motion rolled her on top of him.
“I’m so glad you think that way,” he said. Now he had better access to her he ran both his hands down her body, relishing in the curves. Lia had her arms either side of his body, holding herself up so she could see his face.
For a moment, they were silent, each gazing at the other, drinking in the sight of the other.
“How long have you been waiting?” Lia asked, her voice almost a whisper. “For me to realise… how you felt?”
Greg sighed, but not in an unhappy way. He ran his hands back up her body, slipping under the fabric of her top, his fingers grazing her soft skin. Lia gasped a little, the touch electric.
“I’ve been waiting a lifetime, I think,” he murmured back, a smile in his eyes. “But how long have I been in love with you…” He rolled her back onto the bed next to him, and she snuggled up to his side. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed softly, happily. “Five months, maybe.”
Lia’s head snapped up and she looked at him with wide eyes.
“Five months?” she echoed. “Five months?” She blinked at him, and he just laughed gently.
“Yes,” he said. “I can tell you exactly when I knew. Do you remember… we’d been here maybe just over a month. The party at the hall, the one where you wore that red dress…” He trailed off, a happy smile on his face as he remembered. “You asked me to dance with you. I never dance, you know.”
Lia blinked at him.
“But you did, I remember.”
He laughed again, and nodded.
“Yes, I did,” he said. “Just looking at you… your deep, beautiful eyes… I couldn’t say no to you. And as you pulled me closer to you, made me sway and move with you… by the end of the song I knew I couldn’t ever say no to you again.”
She gazed at him, his confession beautiful to her.
“Oh, Greg,” she whispered. He leant forward and brushed his lips against hers.
“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Lia,” he said. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.”
She smiled, and snuggled back down next to him again.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Greg Barlow,” she mumbled, as she closed her eyes, feeling comfortable and safe.
Lia bounded into the kitchen, slipping her arms around Greg’s waist as she reached him over by the stove.
“I want to learn to shoot,” she announced, almost proudly. Greg let go of the spoon he had been using to stir the concoction in the pot and turned into her embrace, kissing her easily and briefly.
“Love, you can already shoot,” he said. “You shoot better than most of Starfleet.”
She waved her arms as if to bat away his comment.
“No, not a phaser. A bow and arrow. You know, like they do here.” Greg raised an eyebrow at her. He was happy to see her enthused about something again, but she did pick the oddest things.
“A bow and arrow?” he asked, curiously. “Are you going to start robbing the rich to feed the poor?” His tone was his usual shade of sarcastic, and Lia smacked him playfully on the arm.
“Hush,” she said. “I want to learn. And I want you to learn with me.” She kissed the end of his nose and pulled away from him, spinning on the spot. Greg turned his attention back to the pot on the stove again.
“Oh yes?” he said. “Why, pray tell?”
Lia put her hands on her hips and sighed in a mock-frustrated fashion. Honestly, she couldn’t stay mad at him for more than a second or two, but she liked to pretend.
“I want us to be able to do something together.”
Greg loosed the spoon again and turned back to Lia.
“Something together?” he asked. “As opposed to the cooking, and the cleaning, and the-“
“Yes,” said Lia, cutting across his sentence with a fake disapproving look. “Aside from that.” Greg raised his eyebrows to her.
“And here I thought you liked that,” he said, innocently.
Lia’s face melted into a smile as she crossed the kitchen to him, wrapping her arms around him again.
“You know I do,” she murmured. “But it would be nice to have a pastime we can discuss in polite company.” He mirrored her, his arms snaking around her waist. He looked at her for a moment, then sighed.
“Alright,” he conceded. “But you knew I’d never tell you no.”
Lia just grinned at him, then kissed the end of his nose again.
“I love you too,” she said, as she pulled away from him and grabbed her cloak from the back of the chair. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let my dinner burn, hmm?”
Greg laughed and rolled his eyes.
“Yes, dear,” he said, merrily.
It was late evening, and Lia and Greg were curled up together on the sofa that had once been Greg’s bed. Not for a while, though; since declaring mutual love for one another Greg had been most glad to move upstairs with Lia, a fact she never let him forget.
There wasn’t much to do in their lounge, but most nights Lia was content to curl up on Greg’s lap whilst he studied some paper or journal he’d acquired from the town. Whilst she was mostly happy to play housewife, Greg had never stopped wanting to learn. Lia loved that about him, the insatiable desire to never stop pushing forwards, trying to be better.
There was a knock at the door, and both looked up.
“I’ll get it,” said Lia, pushing herself reluctantly up. She padded across the floor in her house shoes, readjusting her hair as she went so that she looked presentable when she opened the door. Doing just that, she was surprised to see Prinna on the other side. In Lia’s opinion, Prinna always looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon whole. “Prinna,” she said, smiling politely. “How can I help?”
The other woman pursed her lips some more, which wasn’t helping with Lia’s imagination of fruit-swallowing.
“I’m bringing news from the council,” she said, in her nasal voice. “We’ve received a communication from your Starfleet. They’ll be here in a week.” She looked around Lia, into the house. Get your own, Greg’s mine. Lia didn’t think Prinna had ever really gotten over the fact that Greg didn’t want her, or the fact that, being Greg, he’d made no secret about it. Still, even musings about Prinna’s lack of a love life wasn’t enough to distract her from what the woman had just said.
“A week?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse. “They’ll be here in a week?”
Prinna just shrugged.
“I guess. Suppose you’d better start packing.”
Lia blinked some more.
“Right. Thanks, Prinna.” Then, in a move most uncharacteristic of her, Lia closed the door in Prinna’s face. She hesitated a moment, then walked back through the room in a daze.
Hearing her footsteps, Greg looked up from his paper. At the bemused look on her face, he immediately frowned.
“What is it?” he asked. “Someone need something?”
Lia shook her head mutely. She didn’t know how to say it. For so long she’d just assumed that they’d just stay here forever. That she could be just… Lia Jones, a woman in love with a wonderful man, free of responsibility… that she could forget Starfleet and her lonely life as a command officer. And now, to hear they were coming… that they’d be just a week…
She looked at Greg, her eyes wide. She so very desperately did not want to lose this… lose him.
“They’re coming for us,” she managed, her voice sounding hoarse. “Starfleet. In a week.”
Greg looked back at her, blankly for a moment, then he reached out to her.
“Come here,” he said, and she did as he asked, allowing him to pull her back onto the sofa with him. “Home, Lia. Aren’t you happy?”
She bit her lip, and shook her head slowly.
“I have a home,” she mumbled. “It’s here, with you.” He smiled at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return it. “There’s nothing for me back there.”
Greg shook his head slowly, and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Yes there is, love. You have a job, remember? The most respected diplomat in all of Starfleet.” He pulled back and looked her square in the eyes. “And me, love. I will go with you, wherever you go. I am far too much in love with you to ever leave you. And…” He trailed off. “Stay here.”
Before she could reply, he’d stood and shot off outside somewhere. Lia blinked, and wrapped her arms around herself instead. A few moments later, Greg came back.
“Sorry,” he said. “Had to hide it outside. I know what you’re like, tidying.” He grinned, boyishly handsome. “I wasn’t going to do this just yet but… I think you need to know now, given the recent… developments…” He fidgeted a little, which was most unlike him, then dipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled his hand out, a fist around something held instead. Then he crossed the room, stopping to kneel down in front of Lia.
“Greg…” she started, but with his other hand he reached up and silenced her with a finger across her lips, tender and gentle.
“Shhh,” he said. “Stop spoiling my moment.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Lia... Liandra Jones… will you marry me?” He opened his hand, and on it lay a wooden ring, smooth and dark. “It’s not a diamond, but apparently they’ve never heard of those around here.”
Lia’s eyes widened as she looked down at the ring. So beautiful, so unique, and, she knew, crafted by his own hands. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so touching and special.
“Oh… oh Greg…” She looked up at him, straight into his nervous eyes. Her hands shaking, she reached out, took the ring, and slipped it over her finger. It fit neatly, perfectly, like it had been moulded to fit. Well, she supposed, it had, really. She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes,” she whispered, her heart leaping within her at her own answer. “Oh yes-yes-yes, marry me, Greg.”
Unable to contain himself a moment longer, Greg wrapped his arms around Lia, picking her up and spinning her in a large circle. She giggled, giddy with almost childish glee.
“Oh Lia, I love you,” he murmured, as he lowered her to the ground again, pulling her to him in an all-enveloping hug. “Mrs Barlow… does that take your fancy?”
A thrill ran through her at his words, and she nodded.
“Lia Barlow,” she said, eyes shining. “I think I could learn to live with that.” She looked at him, and reached up to touch his face, her eyes catching the dark band that now encircled the fourth finger of her left hand. “But... but why now?” she asked, meeting his gaze, questioningly.
“I want you to know that nothing changes,” he said, his voice unusually laced with emotion. “I’ll never leave you, never stop loving you, never. I want you to know… you have to know that this wasn’t just because we’re here, alone. That from the whole galaxy of women, I’d choose you every single time.” He cupped her face tenderly, kissing her briefly. “I love you more than I thought I’d ever love anyone, or anything. I want you to know it’s real.”
Lia could almost feel tears pricking in her eyes as he poured out his heart to her.
“Oh Greg,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself close to him. “I know it’s real. I feel it’s real.” She looked down at the ring on her finger, that smile spreading infectiously across her face again. It was slowly sinking in, taking root inside her heart, chasing away the darkness of worry and emptiness she’d felt when Prinna had told her the news. “I don’t know what will be waiting for me when we get back,” she said. “But with you by my side… it can’t be all that bad.”
Greg smiled at her, and kissed her forehead.
“That’s my Lia,” he said, softly. “My wife.”
In case you're not aware of the characters below, a dramatis personae;
Commander Liandra Jones (later Barlow), Executive Officer of the USS Crudaigh
Commander Boribeth Sunland, CMO of the USS Crudaigh
Lieutenant Commander Jack Carter, Chief Engineer of the USS Crudaigh
Lieutenant Gregory Barlow, ACMO of the USS Crudaigh
The Crudaigh sent a diplomatic and medical team down to a planet requiring aid. The team consisted of Lia, Greg, Beth and Jack. Then, for reasons that they never learned, the Crudaigh was called away from the planet, saying they'd be back in a few days. The ship never came back for them, and in the end they waited almost a year for another Starfleet ship to come and rescue them. By that time, a lot had happened...
The story below really just tells what happened to Lia and Greg. Jack and Beth don't feature much in this story, but they are mentioned. It's the highlights version, and I may add in more later. But for now, it's just as it is. Enjoy.
- - - - - - -
Greg looked at the small travel bag he'd brought with him, and his first, irrational thought was that he wished he'd brought some more reading material. A week, they'd told him. He'd only packed three uniforms, a handful of PADDs, toiletries and a towel. He'd always been one to pack light anyway, so why would he need more? Just a basic field kit. The crate of medical equipment, sent down from the ship, was larger than his personal effects.
And then, when the ship missed their first check-in, he'd begun to wonder if perhaps he should have packed more comprehensively.
And then, when they missed the second, he suspected another uniform might not have gone amiss.
And now, when the message came through from Starfleet Command that they weren't going anywhere for the foreseeable future, he stared down at the bag and berated himself that he'd worried about uniforms, or books, or any of it.
The locals had been very kind about it, and showed them to a small two-storey hut on the edge of town, promising their hospitality to the unfortunate stranded officers who were only there in the first place to treat an illness and barter trade. It only had two bedrooms, and Greg wondered if that was because it was all they could spare, or if they'd just assumed that two men and two women must be two couples.
Commander Jones had insisted he have the other bedroom, but he'd stubbornly refused. He wasn't sure what use any of their ranks would be to anyone anymore, but he felt she deserved that last mark of respect that he could show her. At least she could have a lie-in once in a while without someone else traipsing past her bed and waking her up in the early hours of the morning.
Carter had gone straight to work on improving the kitchen equipment, and Greg pondered his limited culinary abilities. He'd need a new skill set now, he reasoned. With two doctors amongst their number, patching a scratched hand would be less important than making furniture or cooking lunch.
"Are you sure about this?"
He looked up to see Commander Jones hesitating on the foot of the stairs, and nodded.
"Because you should really-"
He raised a hand and she stopped immediately.
"Honestly, ma'am, I'm sure," he said.
She hesitated again, and then nodded.
"OK," she said. "But I think perhaps you can stop calling me ma'am, now. Lia. You can call me Lia."
She'd always struck him as the sort who took protocol very seriously, and he wondered how difficult it was for her to suggest that a mere Lieutenant use her first name.
"Pleased to meet you, Lia," he said, dryly. "I'm Greg."
She gave him half a smile, which Greg considered a small victory, then nodded and turned and made her way upstairs.
Lia.
A pretty name. He suspected she could be very pretty too, if you got behind the stiff exterior. She was probably positively radiant, if you could get her to laugh.
He resolved to do his best to find out.
-
Lia knew she'd wished for some extra leave time, but this really wasn't what she'd had in mind.
She was sat at the table in the strange dining room come kitchen that they'd been slowly trying to make their own for the last few days, since they got the news they'd be staying a while and had been shown to this odd little cottage. To her left, looking far too comfortable with the situation was the doctor who had once been her assistant chief medical officer, Gregory Barlow. To her right, totally engrossed in some thingumy he'd taken apart, was her former chief engineer, Jack Carter. And there she was, sat in the middle, pushing scrambled eggs around her plate with very little intention of eating them.
She'd never been much of a cook, and she would definitely have been the first to admit that. She could make something edible enough for an away mission, but she'd never really learnt to make things taste anything better than acceptable, and the eggs in front of her were a very good example of how average her culinary skills really were.
"If you'd like, I can make you something else."
Lia looked up from her plate, surprised that Barlow had said anything, really. They'd all been very quiet those last few days. Lia suspected they were all still coming to terms with their new situation.
"I'm sorry?"
"You don't seem to be enjoying that," he said, indicating to her plate, which was still almost as full as when she'd sat down. "It must be cold by now, anyway. I've been practicing a sort of omelette thing. If you'd like to try it, I'd happily make you one." He gave her an odd sort of half-smile. "And if it's no better than what you've got I won't be at all offended if you feed it to the birds."
She considered both him and his offer for a moment. She supposed nothing he made could really be any worse than her attempt at breakfast, but she couldn't help wondering why he'd even offered.
"That would be very kind of you," she said, diplomatically.
He nodded, pushing his chair back from the table and making his way to the stove.
"No problem," he said, his tone of voice as affable as if someone had asked him to pass the salt. "Carter?"
"Jack," replied Jack, distractedly, as he was obviously concentrating on the thing in his hands. "And yeah. Please."
Greg nodded and started work. Lia watched him with interest.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for the cooking type," she said, honestly, after a few minutes.
Greg laughed ever so slightly.
"Neither would I, last week," he said. "But needs must. And I like to learn new skills, so it's no hardship."
A few more minutes of awkward silence passed, then he came back to the table with two plates, depositing one in front of Lia and the other in front of Jack. Jack mumbled some thanks, and Lia picked up her fork and tried a mouthful of the fluffy yellow mound on her plate.
"Oh my god," she managed, through a mouthful of surprisingly good egg. She looked up at Greg, who was looking a little smug. He knew, she was pretty sure, that he'd outdone himself in the egg department. "This is amazing. You realise you've just got yourself hired, right?"
Greg gave her a small nod, then sat back down at the table.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, with a small smile.
-
Lia stared up at the sky. Somewhere beyond those twinkling points of light, in the blackness that was space, somewhere the Crudaigh was out there. It had been nearly a month now since she’d stepped onto the transporter pad, bound with Greg, Beth and Jack for this rock of a planet. Nearly a month since she’d last seen Brice.
And what a last moment. She’d shouted at him, told him he wasn’t the man she remembered, told him that when she got back they were going to have to talk. When she got back. Seemed like a fool’s confidence, now.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Was he out there, looking at the stars and thinking of her? Or had he decided she was dead, grieved and moved on? Or had Starfleet got their message and sent the Crudaigh on its way, too important to sit around and wait for four officers, insignificant in the grand scheme of things?
There was a cracking sound and Lia’s head whipped around, her training not dulled by the month she’d spent down here on the planet. Tense at first, she relaxed as she realised that it was Greg Barlow.
“Hi,” she mumbled, and pulled her legs a little tighter. He gave her half a smile and sat down on the ground next to her.
“Hi,” he replied. There was a moment of silence, and Lia wondered if he’d come out here to seek her purposefully or if it was just a co-incidence. “You’ve been quiet.” So not a coincidence, then. She smiled at him, a little sadly.
“Sorry,” she said, sighing. “I don’t mean to be a mood killer. I know that with Beth and Jack spending time together you’re often left stuck with me for company, and I know I’ve not been the best of it, this last week.”
He shook his head and laughed very softly.
“You’re a good person to be stuck with,” he said, simply. “And if anyone ever told you differently then you should have them shot.”
Lia laughed, despite herself. Greg’s dry humour had a tendency to make her smile, even when she felt she had no smiles left.
“Perhaps,” she said. There was another pause, but it felt more comfortable, less expectant than the first. “I think I’ve finally realised they’re not coming back for us.”
Greg’s face turned a bit darker, and he nodded, sighing a little. Lia supposed he’d known that for some time, but then, he seemed to be a realist. Not so much as an idealist as her, still clinging to some old fashioned notion that Brice was going to come back on a white horse and rescue them. You know now that he wouldn’t.
“Starfleet will send someone,” he said, and Lia wondered if that was supposed to be some attempt on his part at cheering her up. “But Captain Kavanaugh won’t be seeing us again for a very long time.”
“He probably argued,” she said, more to convince herself than Greg. “I can’t see Brice just letting them tell him to go on without us.” Using Brice’s name around Greg didn’t seem wrong somehow; he was her friend now, just like Beth and Jack. Funny how strange situations throw you in with people you would never usually consider spending more than half an hour with. She looked at him, his serious, straight face with only the tiniest hint of a smile that belied the dry wit underneath. Now, she wasn’t sure she could imagine not having his sarcasm and dependable silent strength around all the time.
“Good officers do as they’re told,” he said, simply. “You know that.”
She nodded; she did know that. And yet, she was sure Brice would have complained anyway. Bitterly, far more than he should have. Talked about resigning his commission to come and find them. And then, at the end of it, reneging on his threat and giving in. Just like he’d done when he’d promised to tell everyone about their relationship. She sighed. Sounded like a good idea at the time…
They sat in silence again for a few more moments. Lia felt like she was on the verge of something, emotionally. Most likely another flood of tears, the fourth this week. She wasn’t usually the sort to cry much; before getting stuck here she was sure she could count every time she’d really, properly cried in the last ten years on her two hands. But something about being here was upsetting her; perhaps it was coming to terms with the fact that, at the end of it all, Brice hadn’t given up everything for her. Whatever she’d believed her felt for her… maybe she’d been wrong.
“I miss him,” she whispered, her words laced with heartache that she couldn’t shake. Greg didn’t say anything, just reached out and put his arm around her shoulder. The embrace was comforting, another thing that Greg seemed to subtly do so well, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He hugged her gently, thumb rubbing the top of her arm.
“I know.” Lia closed her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears that she feared would come any minute. “But you don’t need him.”
Her eyes opened again and she tensed a little. Wasn’t he wrong? Didn’t she need Brice, her life-long friend, her soul mate, like she needed the air, water, freedom? She missed him, she hurt and ached that she’d never see him again… but somehow, she knew she could go on without him. And I will, too.
“No, I don’t.” The surety of her words surprised even herself. I don’t.
“You’re not alone here, you know.” Lia reached out and took Greg’s other hand in hers. His skin was slightly warmer than hers, but not by much. Gently, she squeezed his hand as she closed her eyes again.
“I know.”
-
Lia and Beth were dancing. The four of them didn’t come down into the village too much at night, since the locals were a little too fond of tucking up in bed early. But occasionally they’d have some big feast and party, and, in the spirit of looking after their strange neighbours, they’d get an invite. Most times they went. It would seem rude not to.
That night, they’d had their food. Now was the more… party-esque section of the evening. Greg was sitting on one of the chairs around the room, waiting for Jack to get back with their drinks, and watching Beth and Lia in the middle of the room, dancing away with the rest of the locals.
They’d been here maybe a month and a half now. Greg had resigned himself a long time back to the idea that they weren’t going to be rescued any time soon. Settling into life here on the planet hadn’t been as hard as he’d thought, either. Perhaps it was the people that he had the fortune to be stranded with.
A local man collapsed down into the chair next to Greg. He was breathing heavily, but had a big smile on his face. Greg immediately diagnosed him with too much dancing, a common affliction at such gatherings.
“So tired,” he said, grinning at Greg nonetheless. “But when she asks, you can’t say no, can you?”
Greg raised an eyebrow at him.
“When who asks?” he asked, curiously.
“The woman you love,” replied the other man, as if Greg was a bit dense in the head. A woman appeared from nowhere, and grabbed the other man’s hand. “See, here’s mine,” he said, with a grin, as he pushed himself up from his chair again and disappeared back into the crowd. Greg smiled to himself and shook his head. He didn’t dance.
Jack seemed to be taking forever, so Greg closed his eyes a moment and let himself feel the beat of the music. He loved to listen to the music here; it had an ambling, almost accidental quality to it that made it constantly surprising. Much of the music he'd grown up listening to was rooted in tradition and convention; as a result, he'd always been drawn to experimental melodies.
Opening his eyes, he realised that Lia was stood right in front of him.
“Come on,” she said, holding her hand out for him. “Come and dance.”
He blinked at her.
“What?” Something about her being there and asking that took him by surprise, as if her query was an extension of the unpredictability of the music.
She just laughed back at him.
“Come and dance. With me.” He looked at her, the firelight reflected in her eyes. They seemed to dance enticingly, beckoning him to follow her. He could smell the subtle scent of her, the scent he’d been noticing for weeks around the house without being able to say exactly what it was. For a moment his heart seemed to skip in his chest, then without thinking he reached out and took her hand.
A smile crept across her face as he took her hand in his. Her skin was so soft, inviting like her gaze was.
“Please, Greg.”
His heart skipped again, and suddenly he felt he knew what the man had been talking about. He didn’t dance, he never danced. And yet, right now, all of a sudden, he didn’t want to do anything but stand with Lia, hold her, move to the beat of the music with her. And all because she’d asked.
“Alright.”
Her smile grew wider as he let her pull him to his feet. She guided him across the makeshift dancefloor, put her hands up on his shoulders in anticipation. He put his arms around her waist and, unable to resist, pulled her closer to him. She only smiled in return, unresisting.
The music changed, a faster tempo, and Lia started to move. Under his hands, Greg could feel her hips undulating to the rhythm, her body brushing against his. His hands moved off her waist, sinking a little lower to hold her where she swayed, allowing him to feel her moving. She followed his move, sliding her hands down his sides, resting them on his hips. He could swear his throat had dried up as she did so, her hands across his body.
“You have to move,” she murmured, her voice sounding to Greg like honey. Gently she pulled him towards her, closing the gap between them and moulding him to her so they could move together. He followed her movements, each beat of the music one step closer to losing himself in the moment. By the time the music ended, he found himself wrapped in her, their heads together, bodies together, inseparable.
“I need a drink,” she whispered in his ear, her voice light and airy like the wind. Greg could do little but nod as she smiled coyly at him and pulled away, flitting off to the bar.
He watched her go, his heart conflicted. In that moment, he knew it. He’d fallen in love with Lia Jones. Utterly and hopelessly. And he had no idea if she’d ever feel the same.
-
The middle of the day was hot here. The heat made her sleepy, and in the first few weeks Lia hadn’t been able to do much but hide in the house when the midday sun was up in the sky.
As time went on, she’d acclimatised herself a bit better to the weather, and now she was capable of at least lying around outside in the shade, or moving around and doing things inside the house.
Today, she’d decided she was going to have a bit of a tidy-up in the house. As she’d come to the realisation that Starfleet wasn’t going to be there any time soon, she’d started to want to see an order about the place that hadn’t been there before.
She started with her own room, but there wasn’t much to tidy there. Just a big bed, well, big for here, a small table, a set of drawers. She left Beth and Jack’s room of course, and headed downstairs. There were only two rooms downstairs; the kitchen with the table for eating, though most days they’d eat outside, and the lounge area that doubled up as Greg’s sleeping quarters.
Moving around, she picked up odds and ends that were scattered around and put them neatly on the table in the middle of the room. Then she turned and looked at what could once have been a sofa, but was now Greg’s bed.
The sheets were straight, even, ordered. In this mass of chaos, somehow Greg’s space remained an oasis of calm and order. Lia wondered how he managed.
Thoughtfully, she ran her fingers across the blanket. It got cold here, at night, which was an odd contrast to the daytime. Greg always claimed he was warm enough down here, but Lia wasn’t sure that he wasn’t just saying that because he felt he ought to. Like the fact that he had let her sleep upstairs, take the second bedroom, despite the fact that she’d said she should have the sofa, as the senior officer.
Senior officer… that seemed like such a long time ago already. Here, rank was something that no-one mentioned, no-one needed. Why would she? Here she needed her friends. Didn’t need to be reminded of Starfleet, of the Crudaigh… of Brice, and how he’d never come back for her.
She sank down onto the blanket, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t hers to sink onto. The fleece was soft under her fingers.
The tears were threatening again. They’d gotten less frequent recently, but still… whenever she thought of Brice, of the way things had ended, she couldn’t help it. And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if really they hadn’t just been heading for this anyway. If this hadn’t just sped up the inevitable…
The front door banged shut, and Lia looked up, suddenly feeling guilty as she saw Greg come in. He stopped in the doorway, looking at her. She blinked, and then stood hurriedly, smoothing the blanket where she’d creased it.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, rubbing irritatedly at her itching eyes. Greg sighed and crossed the room towards her. She turned around, and he was right in front of her.
“Shh,” he said. “Stop apologising. It’s your house too.” Lia sighed, and Greg sat down on the bed, pulling Lia down next to him with a gentle tug on her arm. “Come on, sit down.”
She sat down again, reluctantly.
“It’s your bed, though,” she muttered, miserably. Greg just laughed, gently.
“And you’re welcome to sit on it any time you please, all the same.” He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “You were thinking about Brice again, weren’t you?” he said, after a moment’s pause. Lia hesitated, then nodded. Greg sighed in response. “It’s been three months, Lia.”
She closed her eyes.
“I know.” She squeezed the hand holding hers. “But sometimes it just feels like last week.”
He let go her hand and put his arm around her shoulder instead. Tired, Lia let him pull her towards him, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
“You’re too good to me,” she mumbled. Greg laughed again in response.
“No,” he said, softly. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
-
Greg was watching them play. Lia, Beth and Jack all taking part in some game that involved throwing and catching a large fruit they were using in place of a more appropriate ball. They were down on the beachside by the lake, the coarse sand crunching every time one of them moved to catch or throw the fruit to one another. Greg was sat on one of the blankets they used for so many things here; bedclothes, towels, cloaks, tablecloths and so much more.
He wasn’t sure who was winning; he wasn’t even sure that the game had rules. But they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially Lia, who was showing the first really genuinely joyous smile that he’d seen on her face in quite some time. It suited her, he’d decided. To see her beaming with delight, her eyes shining with laughter… he’d promised himself that he’d make her this happy again, every day if he could.
Someone dropped the fruit and it hit the sand with a soft thwump. Lia stood still, catching her breath with her hands on her hips as she waited for Beth or Jack to retrieve it, both of whom were closer to the fallen item than she. Greg watched her; the rise and fall of her chest as she got her breath back, the subtle curves of her body not quite hidden under the strange clothing that everyone here wore, something between a dress and wide trousers.
She was, he decided, thoroughly magnificent.
The ball was up, and they started throwing it back and forth again. Another missed aim, this time from Lia, sent it careering in his direction, and it stopped, falling to the ground with a thump a metre or so in front of him. A small smile gracing his lips he moved forward and picked it up, looking up to see if someone was coming for it.
“Well? Throw it back!” Lia’s voice was light, merry. She put her hands on her hips again, probably unaware that it accentuated them, made Greg’s attention more drawn to the shape of her figure.
“My aim is worse than yours,” he said, almost deadpan but with the tiniest hint of mirth. “Come fetch it.”
She gave him a mock-put-out look for a moment, then started over. Her progress was made slower by the shifting sands under her feet, and Greg wondered if the sway of her hips as she walked was caused by the same thing, or if he’d just started noticing it more recently.
Finally, she made it to him, reaching out her hands for the offending fruit.
“Hand it over, then,” she said, her eyes still twinkling, leaving Greg feeling his breath catch a little in his throat. He shook his head slowly, deliberately in response.
“Say please,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. She seemed to respond to the sultry tone he’d taken, and she knelt down on the sand in front of him.
“Please,” she said, her eyes locked with his, her tone warm and inviting. Greg could feel a lump in his throat from the gaze she sent his way. Was this just the excitement of the warm evening, was this her finally letting go of her cares and worries for a moment and just being… Lia?
Or had she finally begun to feel for him what he’d been hoping for the last few months that she might begin to feel?
Whatever it was, Greg knew he had fallen for it, totally and completely. If she would look into his eyes and give him that look and speak to him in such low, sultry tones, he would give anything to have her continue to do it. Love, he mused, was a curious thing. You could plan and prepare as much as you liked, but at the end of the day when she found you… there was nothing you could do but fall hopelessly in love with her.
He held out the fruit for her to take.
“Anytime,” he whispered, his gaze on her intense despite his best promises to himself that he’d not push her, not scare her.
She smiled at him, a smile that almost made his heart stop. Her eyes twinkled, and for a moment they just stared at one another, caught up in their mutual gaze.
And then she pushed up from the ground, grabbed the fruit, and skipped her way back through the sand to the others. Greg watched her go and inhaled, suddenly aware that he wasn’t sure of the last time he breathed.
Oh, Lia.
-
"So this is new."
Greg looked up at the sound of Lia's voice. Her words had a light, playful tone to them, and he smiled despite himself.
She had a way of doing that to him, he'd found.
"Actually, everything here is quite old. Cultures have been carving wood for thousands of years, and this tree was almost certainly at least twice as old as us put together when it was cut down."
His tone was scholarly, almost like he was delivering a lecture to some first year students, though the glint in his eyes was probably a bit of a giveaway that he was enjoying himself. He did so love encouraging her to a duel of wit and words; Lia had a way of lighting up when her intellect was challenged.
"You know exactly what I mean," she replied, her hands on her hips. "I'm quite sure I've never seen you with a chisel in hand before."
Greg put the chisel down on the table.
"I fixed the table last month," he said.
Lia raised an eyebrow at him.
"With a chisel?"
Greg shrugged.
"With carpentry tools."
Lia pushed at a solitary curl of wood shaving with her foot.
"And I suppose you're going to tidy this up, too?"
Greg smiled. He knew he very rarely gave her cause for complaint when it came to his tidiness. Jack left stuff all over the place, but Greg was generally very tidy. He also knew Lia thought he was tidy too, thanks to that one evening where they'd all drunk a little too much of those local spirits, Lia and Beth in particular, and started that game of truth or dare. After Jack and Beth had disappeared Lia had insisted they kept playing, and although he could include a trip up the tallest tree in their garden in his exploits of that night, he also had a catalogue of secrets of Liandra Jones that she probably couldn't even remember telling him. Like her favourite flowers, and the first boy she'd kissed, and her biggest fear, and what she liked best about Beth, and Jack, and him.
He planned to put all of those things to use, in his own time.
"I always tidy up after myself," he said. "I'd never give you extra work to do. I know you care a great deal about the state of the kitchen floor."
She smiled wryly at him, rolled her eyes, then disappeared out of the room. Greg watched her go and gazed at the door, lost in a memory.
"And me, go on. What do you like best about me?"
Lia giggled.
"You just want me to say nice things about you," she mumbled.
"Well, obviously. Doesn't everyone?"
She laughed again.
"Mmmk." She looked at him very intensely for a moment, and Greg felt his heart skip a little, the way it always did when she held his gaze. "You always make me smile, y'know? No matter what. I can be having the worst day, or... Anything. And you always know what to say."
Greg smiled, suddenly at once proud and self conscious. It hadn't been at all what he'd expected her to say.
"And since we're on the topic," she continued, adorably determinedly all of my sudden for someone who was lying on the sofa, "you should return the favour. C'mon. Something good about me."
He looked at her, lying there with her flushed cheeks and self-satisfied triumphant smirk, her skirt tangled around her legs and her hair mostly fallen out of the elegant up-do she'd started the evening with. He could think of a million things to say about her, but none of them seemed right. He had to think about his answer, he knew; something that showed her he cared but didn't pressure her, didn't give too much of his feelings away and-
"You're beautiful," he said, his mouth most definitely engaging before his brain, the words escaping in a single honest breath and laden with a wealth of longing and admiration that he really hadn't meant to let out.
There was a moment of silence and Greg kicked himself mentally for being such an idiot.
Then Lia grinned, and smiled adoringly at him.
"See? There you go again," she said, softly. "Always making me smile."
-
Lia wondered exactly when it was that Greg had become so damn attractive.
They’d decided, the four of them, that they’d dress up tonight. Find the best things they could from the market and really go to town on the food, the drinks, the candles… everything. Six months of being here by themselves, they’d thought, was a reason enough to celebrate.
She wasn’t sure when their isolation had become so comfortable. Four friends living in the easiest of places, where most things were free and the things that weren’t… well, they’d learnt to live without them. What was there for them, out there in space, anyway? Here they had happiness, peace and each other. Looking around the table that evening, Lia was fairly sure that at the end of the day, they were all that mattered anyway.
After they’d finished eating, they’d finished up the bottle of local wine that Jack had found for them. Beth and Jack disappeared off, as they often did, and left Lia and Greg sat at the table. He looked up and smiled at her, and Lia, feeling warm and replete and slightly lightheaded, was suddenly struck by how attractive he was.
“Do you want to go walk by the lake?” He knew the lake was her favourite place, here. The water moved in and out a little, the smallest of tides causing tiny waves on the shore, and though they were inland it felt all the world to Lia like a beach.
She smiled and nodded, standing so that he could take her arm. He did that sort of thing; the gentlemanly sort of thing.
Silently, they fell in step beside one another, following the path down from their small house until they could hear the rustle of the water.
“You look beautiful, tonight, you know,” said Greg, as they came to a stop on the edge of the sand. Lia turned and looked at him, eyes bright with pleasure at the compliment.
“And you look terribly handsome yourself,” she murmured, unable to keep the smile off her face as she looked at him. “This outfit suits you.”
He laughed a little, the rare sound that Lia had come to adore and try and coax out of him at any possible opportunity.
“I’ll bear that in mind when I restock my wardrobe,” he said, dryly. She smiled a little wider and span round to face him, slipping her arms around his waist easily. He didn’t even hesitate; his arms wrapped around her a moment later, pulling her half a step closer to him. She was suddenly aware of how close he was, and her heart skipped a beat. So attractive, and so close…
“You should,” she whispered, not trusting herself to say anything else in case she let slip something she might regret in the morning. They lapsed into a moment of silence, as they looked at one another. She felt oddly comfortable here, more comfortable than she knew she really had any right to be in the arms of a friend.
“Lia?”
She liked the way her name sounded on his lips. He said it softly, almost tenderly.
“Mmhm?” Subconsciously she pulled herself a little closer to him. He was so warm, and the breeze coming off the lake was ever so slightly chilly.
“Are you happy, tonight?” His eyes had creased a little in worry, and immediately she wanted to smooth away the lines of anxiety.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “More happy than I can remember being in a long time.”
His face relaxed into a smile, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder, wrapped up in him.
“Good,” he replied, simply, and kissed the top of her head. The pressure was light and almost silent, but Lia felt a contentment spread through her as his lips touched her head that she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. She smiled almost smugly to herself and snuggled her head into his shoulder.
-
She'd expected it to have faded by the time she woke up.
So when Lia opened her eyes to the sunrise and the chirping of birds in the trees outside her window, she was surprised to find that the first thing in her mind was not her plans for the day, or the strange dreams she'd been having, or what she was going to wear, but Greg.
Greg, holding her by the lake. Greg, kissing the top of her head. Greg, walking her home and letting her lean on him as they walked down the path and lacing his fingers casually in hers as they came round the corner by the trees and kissing her forehead as he wished her goodnight.
Maybe the wine had been stronger than she thought.
She hurried herself out of bed, dressed quietly and slipped silently down the stairs, standing on the bottom step looking out into the lounge. Greg was still asleep, his face blank and unreadable as he slumbered. And yet, as she looked at him she couldn't help but see that slight quirk of a smile, those caring eyes.
I need to get out of here.
Luckily, she had shopping to do in the market. Glancing one final time at Greg, she stepped silently off the bottom step and breezed through to the kitchen, picking up an empty basket, and headed out the front door.
-
The noise of the door banging made Greg look up, just in time to see Lia barrel into the room. She looked distressed, her hair half-fallen out of its bow as if she’d been running, and Greg was immediately concerned.
“Lia? What’s the matter?” He pushed himself up from his chair and caught her as she practically ran into his arms.
“Gella in the village,” she said, panting, more good evidence that she’d run full tilt to get back here. “She said that you… you and Prinna…” Greg ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders and practically felt her shiver under his touch. “Tell me it’s not… it’s not true… I…”
Greg reached out, silencing her with a finger rested on her lips.
“Shh,” he said, and she stopped talking. Her eyes were wide, almost fearful, and Greg wondered what anyone in the village could have possibly said about him that would have made her that upset. “Tell me slowly.” He took his finger away.
“She said Prinna is after you,” she said, quietly, torn between being dejected and being worried. “That you’ll be married before next moon.”
Greg stared at Lia for a minute, then burst out laughing.
“Oh Lia…” He shook his head, and pulled her into a tight embrace for a moment. She clung to the front of his coat, even after he pulled back from her so that he could see her face. “I would never. Prinna is a cow, and besides…” He cupped her face gently with his hands and smiled at her softly. “In case it has entirely escaped your notice, which I’m beginning to think it has, I’m rather hopelessly in love with you.”
Lia blinked at him, her mouth gaping open. She seemed almost unable to believe what he’d said, perhaps worried that she’d dreamt it. For an indeterminably long moment she stared at him, unmoving.
“Oh,” she said, quietly. He smiled, a little more tentatively.
“Is that all you’re going to say?” Now it was Greg’s turn to be nervous. Despite everything she’d said and done in the last few weeks… had he misread? Misunderstood? Perhaps she wasn’t ready yet, perhaps she wasn't going to return his affections or-
Her lips meeting his broke across his internal monologue of increasing panic. Furiously she kissed him and he immediately responded, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her.
She loves me.
He felt like a thousand birds had just been released inside his chest, his soul soaring as she mirrored him, slipping her arms around him easily. It was everything he’d fantasised about, kissing Lia; soft and gentle yet desperate and passionate… a conundrum, just like the woman in his arms.
She pulled back with a small gasp, and a big smile on her face.
“I love you too,” she murmured.
-
She tugged on his arm gently as she pulled him up the small staircase behind her. Chancing a look backwards, she saw his shining eyes, his happy smile, and she knew that she was sporting a similar look. Giggling a little she turned back to face up the stairs and pulled him up the last few steps.
There were only two doors at the top, and Lia pulled Greg through the one on the right. Inside, she made straight for the bed, the main dominating feature of the room, pulling Greg down on top of her where he landed with an ‘oomph’.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” he murmured, then leant forwards and captured her lips with a kiss. She grinned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You just didn’t want to sleep on the couch anymore,” she giggled, kissing the end of his nose. He laughed, heartily, a noise she’d so rarely heard, and rolled next to her on the bed. Instinctively, she followed him, rolling to face him so that they were face-to-face on the bed.
“Sure,” he said. “That must be it.” Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Nothing to do with the magnificent woman in front of me at all.” His voice was a little husky, and Lia could feel the effect it was having on her already. “This beautiful lady…” He leant forwards again, kissing her more passionately this time. She responded by trailing her hands down from his neck to the front of his shirt.
“Dammit,” she mumbled, realising that this tunic thing didn’t have any buttons. Greg pulled back, shaking his head at her in a playful manner.
“So eager,” he murmured, tracing the outline of her body with his free hand. “Anyone would think you liked what you saw.”
Lia growled a little. “Mmhm,” she mumbled, capturing his lips again. “What’s not to like?” He broke away and in one fluid motion rolled her on top of him.
“I’m so glad you think that way,” he said. Now he had better access to her he ran both his hands down her body, relishing in the curves. Lia had her arms either side of his body, holding herself up so she could see his face.
For a moment, they were silent, each gazing at the other, drinking in the sight of the other.
“How long have you been waiting?” Lia asked, her voice almost a whisper. “For me to realise… how you felt?”
Greg sighed, but not in an unhappy way. He ran his hands back up her body, slipping under the fabric of her top, his fingers grazing her soft skin. Lia gasped a little, the touch electric.
“I’ve been waiting a lifetime, I think,” he murmured back, a smile in his eyes. “But how long have I been in love with you…” He rolled her back onto the bed next to him, and she snuggled up to his side. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed softly, happily. “Five months, maybe.”
Lia’s head snapped up and she looked at him with wide eyes.
“Five months?” she echoed. “Five months?” She blinked at him, and he just laughed gently.
“Yes,” he said. “I can tell you exactly when I knew. Do you remember… we’d been here maybe just over a month. The party at the hall, the one where you wore that red dress…” He trailed off, a happy smile on his face as he remembered. “You asked me to dance with you. I never dance, you know.”
Lia blinked at him.
“But you did, I remember.”
He laughed again, and nodded.
“Yes, I did,” he said. “Just looking at you… your deep, beautiful eyes… I couldn’t say no to you. And as you pulled me closer to you, made me sway and move with you… by the end of the song I knew I couldn’t ever say no to you again.”
She gazed at him, his confession beautiful to her.
“Oh, Greg,” she whispered. He leant forward and brushed his lips against hers.
“You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, Lia,” he said. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.”
She smiled, and snuggled back down next to him again.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Greg Barlow,” she mumbled, as she closed her eyes, feeling comfortable and safe.
-
Lia bounded into the kitchen, slipping her arms around Greg’s waist as she reached him over by the stove.
“I want to learn to shoot,” she announced, almost proudly. Greg let go of the spoon he had been using to stir the concoction in the pot and turned into her embrace, kissing her easily and briefly.
“Love, you can already shoot,” he said. “You shoot better than most of Starfleet.”
She waved her arms as if to bat away his comment.
“No, not a phaser. A bow and arrow. You know, like they do here.” Greg raised an eyebrow at her. He was happy to see her enthused about something again, but she did pick the oddest things.
“A bow and arrow?” he asked, curiously. “Are you going to start robbing the rich to feed the poor?” His tone was his usual shade of sarcastic, and Lia smacked him playfully on the arm.
“Hush,” she said. “I want to learn. And I want you to learn with me.” She kissed the end of his nose and pulled away from him, spinning on the spot. Greg turned his attention back to the pot on the stove again.
“Oh yes?” he said. “Why, pray tell?”
Lia put her hands on her hips and sighed in a mock-frustrated fashion. Honestly, she couldn’t stay mad at him for more than a second or two, but she liked to pretend.
“I want us to be able to do something together.”
Greg loosed the spoon again and turned back to Lia.
“Something together?” he asked. “As opposed to the cooking, and the cleaning, and the-“
“Yes,” said Lia, cutting across his sentence with a fake disapproving look. “Aside from that.” Greg raised his eyebrows to her.
“And here I thought you liked that,” he said, innocently.
Lia’s face melted into a smile as she crossed the kitchen to him, wrapping her arms around him again.
“You know I do,” she murmured. “But it would be nice to have a pastime we can discuss in polite company.” He mirrored her, his arms snaking around her waist. He looked at her for a moment, then sighed.
“Alright,” he conceded. “But you knew I’d never tell you no.”
Lia just grinned at him, then kissed the end of his nose again.
“I love you too,” she said, as she pulled away from him and grabbed her cloak from the back of the chair. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let my dinner burn, hmm?”
Greg laughed and rolled his eyes.
“Yes, dear,” he said, merrily.
-
It was late evening, and Lia and Greg were curled up together on the sofa that had once been Greg’s bed. Not for a while, though; since declaring mutual love for one another Greg had been most glad to move upstairs with Lia, a fact she never let him forget.
There wasn’t much to do in their lounge, but most nights Lia was content to curl up on Greg’s lap whilst he studied some paper or journal he’d acquired from the town. Whilst she was mostly happy to play housewife, Greg had never stopped wanting to learn. Lia loved that about him, the insatiable desire to never stop pushing forwards, trying to be better.
There was a knock at the door, and both looked up.
“I’ll get it,” said Lia, pushing herself reluctantly up. She padded across the floor in her house shoes, readjusting her hair as she went so that she looked presentable when she opened the door. Doing just that, she was surprised to see Prinna on the other side. In Lia’s opinion, Prinna always looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon whole. “Prinna,” she said, smiling politely. “How can I help?”
The other woman pursed her lips some more, which wasn’t helping with Lia’s imagination of fruit-swallowing.
“I’m bringing news from the council,” she said, in her nasal voice. “We’ve received a communication from your Starfleet. They’ll be here in a week.” She looked around Lia, into the house. Get your own, Greg’s mine. Lia didn’t think Prinna had ever really gotten over the fact that Greg didn’t want her, or the fact that, being Greg, he’d made no secret about it. Still, even musings about Prinna’s lack of a love life wasn’t enough to distract her from what the woman had just said.
“A week?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse. “They’ll be here in a week?”
Prinna just shrugged.
“I guess. Suppose you’d better start packing.”
Lia blinked some more.
“Right. Thanks, Prinna.” Then, in a move most uncharacteristic of her, Lia closed the door in Prinna’s face. She hesitated a moment, then walked back through the room in a daze.
Hearing her footsteps, Greg looked up from his paper. At the bemused look on her face, he immediately frowned.
“What is it?” he asked. “Someone need something?”
Lia shook her head mutely. She didn’t know how to say it. For so long she’d just assumed that they’d just stay here forever. That she could be just… Lia Jones, a woman in love with a wonderful man, free of responsibility… that she could forget Starfleet and her lonely life as a command officer. And now, to hear they were coming… that they’d be just a week…
She looked at Greg, her eyes wide. She so very desperately did not want to lose this… lose him.
“They’re coming for us,” she managed, her voice sounding hoarse. “Starfleet. In a week.”
Greg looked back at her, blankly for a moment, then he reached out to her.
“Come here,” he said, and she did as he asked, allowing him to pull her back onto the sofa with him. “Home, Lia. Aren’t you happy?”
She bit her lip, and shook her head slowly.
“I have a home,” she mumbled. “It’s here, with you.” He smiled at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return it. “There’s nothing for me back there.”
Greg shook his head slowly, and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Yes there is, love. You have a job, remember? The most respected diplomat in all of Starfleet.” He pulled back and looked her square in the eyes. “And me, love. I will go with you, wherever you go. I am far too much in love with you to ever leave you. And…” He trailed off. “Stay here.”
Before she could reply, he’d stood and shot off outside somewhere. Lia blinked, and wrapped her arms around herself instead. A few moments later, Greg came back.
“Sorry,” he said. “Had to hide it outside. I know what you’re like, tidying.” He grinned, boyishly handsome. “I wasn’t going to do this just yet but… I think you need to know now, given the recent… developments…” He fidgeted a little, which was most unlike him, then dipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled his hand out, a fist around something held instead. Then he crossed the room, stopping to kneel down in front of Lia.
“Greg…” she started, but with his other hand he reached up and silenced her with a finger across her lips, tender and gentle.
“Shhh,” he said. “Stop spoiling my moment.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Lia... Liandra Jones… will you marry me?” He opened his hand, and on it lay a wooden ring, smooth and dark. “It’s not a diamond, but apparently they’ve never heard of those around here.”
Lia’s eyes widened as she looked down at the ring. So beautiful, so unique, and, she knew, crafted by his own hands. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so touching and special.
“Oh… oh Greg…” She looked up at him, straight into his nervous eyes. Her hands shaking, she reached out, took the ring, and slipped it over her finger. It fit neatly, perfectly, like it had been moulded to fit. Well, she supposed, it had, really. She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes,” she whispered, her heart leaping within her at her own answer. “Oh yes-yes-yes, marry me, Greg.”
Unable to contain himself a moment longer, Greg wrapped his arms around Lia, picking her up and spinning her in a large circle. She giggled, giddy with almost childish glee.
“Oh Lia, I love you,” he murmured, as he lowered her to the ground again, pulling her to him in an all-enveloping hug. “Mrs Barlow… does that take your fancy?”
A thrill ran through her at his words, and she nodded.
“Lia Barlow,” she said, eyes shining. “I think I could learn to live with that.” She looked at him, and reached up to touch his face, her eyes catching the dark band that now encircled the fourth finger of her left hand. “But... but why now?” she asked, meeting his gaze, questioningly.
“I want you to know that nothing changes,” he said, his voice unusually laced with emotion. “I’ll never leave you, never stop loving you, never. I want you to know… you have to know that this wasn’t just because we’re here, alone. That from the whole galaxy of women, I’d choose you every single time.” He cupped her face tenderly, kissing her briefly. “I love you more than I thought I’d ever love anyone, or anything. I want you to know it’s real.”
Lia could almost feel tears pricking in her eyes as he poured out his heart to her.
“Oh Greg,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself close to him. “I know it’s real. I feel it’s real.” She looked down at the ring on her finger, that smile spreading infectiously across her face again. It was slowly sinking in, taking root inside her heart, chasing away the darkness of worry and emptiness she’d felt when Prinna had told her the news. “I don’t know what will be waiting for me when we get back,” she said. “But with you by my side… it can’t be all that bad.”
Greg smiled at her, and kissed her forehead.
“That’s my Lia,” he said, softly. “My wife.”