If Icarus Could Swim [Raynor/Jiseth]

[Jiseth]

"I guess that's the problem. I have no idea. I've spent my whole adult life with orders to follow. Fighting in a war against the Federation that had no battles. No monuments. Just casualties. I widowed Zero at our first kiss."

Taking another long sip of wine, Jiseth took hold of the almost untouched glass of water and downed the whole thing. Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her free hand, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"...I want to go out on a lake and fish like I did when I was a child. A cool morning with plenty of fog drifting over the water and sunrise slowly becoming day. Run along the bank. Go for a swim and just float there in the afternoon light. Unfortunately, these new legs are like concrete stilettos and half as buoyant."

There was a tired expression on her face as she sat upright while the waiter refilled her water glass.

"Imagine you're staring at a tree. It bears many fruits and in them you can see all your possible futures. You could be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a philosopher. You could be a great warrior or a play write. As you try to pick, the fruits begin to wither and grow rotten and one by one they fall away leaving fewer and fewer for you to pick. That's how I feel right now."

[Raynor Hughes]

"I guess that's the problem. I have no idea. I've spent my whole adult life with orders to follow. Fighting in a war against the Federation that had no battles. No monuments. Just casualties. I widowed Zero at our first kiss."

Taking another long sip of wine, Jiseth took hold of the almost untouched glass of water and downed the whole thing. Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her free hand, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"...I want to go out on a lake and fish like I did when I was a child. A cool morning with plenty of fog drifting over the water and sunrise slowly becoming day. Run along the bank. Go for a swim and just float there in the afternoon light. Unfortunately, these new legs are like concrete stilettos and half as buoyant."

There was a tired expression on her face as she sat upright while the waiter refilled her water glass.

"Imagine you're staring at a tree. It bears many fruits and in them you can see all your possible futures. You could be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a philosopher. You could be a great warrior or a play write. As you try to pick, the fruits begin to wither and grow rotten and one by one they fall away leaving fewer and fewer for you to pick. That's how I feel right now."

Raynor looked down at his half-full glass of wine, seeing a small reflection of his face and the tasteful ceiling mood lighting in the liquid.  Something about granting widowhood to her lover resonated with the Klingon, since it was basically the same way he felt about Ilana.  Raynor swirled his firewine around, bringing the glass up for another pull and finishing it.  "I'm one ahead of you," he rumbled, smirking like a playful lion.  "I remember going fishing as a boy.  First on Archanis, then in Alaska.  If you ever want to get lost...just ask.  I know plenty of places still on Earth where the grasp of Federation technology lies the lightest."

He was quiet for another long moment, the sursurrus of patron voices mingling with the light piano music that was being filtered in through the walls.  "There is an old Klingon proverb," Raynor began, pouring another glass.  "If a man finds the fruit blighted, plant another tree."  Actually, he'd just made that up on the spot, but whatever.  Picking up the glass, Raynor gestured at her with it.  "You've not given up the uniform, so that's one new root already planted.  Where it grows from here is, as always, up to you."

[Jiseth]

She gave a nod to his offer and downed the second glass of water. Unfortunately, the cybernetic limbs did not react well to the inhibiting effects of alcohol, but she was not about to let Raynor in on that fact. Romulans were as much about posturing as they were about stabbing someone in the back. When the waiter returned he simply left the water pitcher at the table as well as the bottle of wine from which she was drinking. To be polite, she ordered a plate of strawberry cheesecake from the menu that had been sitting in front of her the whole time and handed it off to get it out of the way.

"Well... There's a Defiant-class docked here. Could have some fun with that. USS Monitor I believe it's called. Strange, wasn't that the name of a Terran submarine? Hardly a stealthy ship without a cloaking device. Brash and gaudy little things. It's like a cowboy decided to ditch his single horsepower lifestyle and go scampering about in a 700 horsepower Lamborghini with missile launchers. I think I might have found something that suits my tastes-oh, speak of the devil."

Her face admittedly brightened up when her small dessert plate arrived. Garnished with red lines of syrup and a strawberry on top, it might have well have been blood and the heart of an enemy festooning her piece of cake the way she was grinning.

"I think you've suffered enough from my sad stories, tell me of yours. What terrible fate has befallen such a noble warrior?"

[Raynor Hughes]

She gave a nod to his offer and downed the second glass of water. Unfortunately, the cybernetic limbs did not react well to the inhibiting effects of alcohol, but she was not about to let Raynor in on that fact. Romulans were as much about posturing as they were about stabbing someone in the back. When the waiter returned he simply left the water pitcher at the table as well as the bottle of wine from which she was drinking. To be polite, she ordered a plate of strawberry cheesecake from the menu that had been sitting in front of her the whole time and handed it off to get it out of the way.

"Well... There's a Defiant-class docked here. Could have some fun with that. USS Monitor I believe it's called. Strange, wasn't that the name of a Terran submarine? Hardly a stealthy ship without a cloaking device. Brash and gaudy little things. It's like a cowboy decided to ditch his single horsepower lifestyle and go scampering about in a 700 horsepower Lamborghini with missile launchers. I think I might have found something that suits my tastes-oh, speak of the devil."

Her face admittedly brightened up when her small dessert plate arrived. Garnished with red lines of syrup and a strawberry on top, it might have well have been blood and the heart of an enemy festooning her piece of cake the way she was grinning.

"I think you've suffered enough from my sad stories, tell me of yours. What terrible fate has befallen such a noble warrior?"

Raynor couldn't help but notice the fact that Jiseth cut off her drinking earlier.  It was something that was rather glaring by omission, and there may as well have been a bright sign pointed toward her saying 'something's not right!'.  Or, maybe...maybe she just didn't feel like drinking any more wine.  Either way, Raynor noticed it and adjusted his firewine intake volume accordingly.  These were conversations he'd rather have while intoxicated, but if needed...he could have them straight.

As a sometimes-medical practitioner, Raynor knew the effect that excess sugars often had on Vulcanoids, the fact of which made Jiseth's almost girly-looking smile at her dessert plate all the more endearing.  "They're quick, here," he nodded, waving off the waiter for himself.  He let Jiseth take her first bite of cheesecake, considering her question.  "Terrible fate?  Well.  Relations between the Federation and the Empire cooled considerably not too long ago.  I resigned my shipboard duties to return to Qo'noS.  I've always been in a rare position, me and the handful of others who serve in Starfleet.  That was...well over a year ago."  He shrugged, a rolling of his massive shoulders.  "And now I await re-assignment."  A cut-and-dried version of the story, yes.  One that omitted certain details.

[Jiseth]

There was a sudden shocked pause as another bite neared her lips and her mouth hung open. She tilted her head away with eyes squinting towards him as she lowered her fork. The timing was perhaps not the best for this meeting, but all the same, she was glad he could at least attend.

"So... You're leaving?"

There was an unpleasant tingling, almost like an itch, where her flesh met circuits. She might have to slow down the wine consumption even further before the artificial limbs began losing function. A normal person might lose their sense of balance and wobble as they walked, but for Jiseth it'd be like trying to walk on stilts with her knees. She winced a few times as she spoke even though she was adamantly trying not to show any signs of discomfort with the phantom pains starting to return as well.

"I guess a familiar setting woul-wouldn't hurt. It's a big decision. Guess-ow... Guess I have reason to invade that backwater cesspool after all if it means getting to socialize with my token Klingon friend. Only a slight inconvenience. Kind of like these glorified pain sticks I have to walk with. Whatever you do, don't lose an arm or leg to a bat'leth."

[Raynor Hughes]

There was a sudden shocked pause as another bite neared her lips and her mouth hung open. She tilted her head away with eyes squinting towards him as she lowered her fork. The timing was perhaps not the best for this meeting, but all the same, she was glad he could at least attend.

"So... You're leaving?"

There was an unpleasant tingling, almost like an itch, where her flesh met circuits. She might have to slow down the wine consumption even further before the artificial limbs began losing function. A normal person might lose their sense of balance and wobble as they walked, but for Jiseth it'd be like trying to walk on stilts with her knees. She winced a few times as she spoke even though she was adamantly trying not to show any signs of discomfort with the phantom pains starting to return as well.

"I guess a familiar setting woul-wouldn't hurt. It's a big decision. Guess-ow... Guess I have reason to invade that backwater cesspool after all if it means getting to socialize with my token Klingon friend. Only a slight inconvenience. Kind of like these glorified pain sticks I have to walk with. Whatever you do, don't lose an arm or leg to a bat'leth."

"I don't know where I'm going," Raynor simply replied, shrugging again.  As if that wasn't the understatement for the turn of the century.  The Klingon finished off his new glass of wine, putting the container to one side.  He'd never seen Jiseth afraid to drink before, but he'd be damned if that wasn't what he was witnessing here, today.  Whatever her reason, she seemed a shell of her former Fiery self.  Well, actually, it wasn't that much of a surprise, given when she'd been through.  Even the doughtiest warrior could sometimes get that stare that looked right through people.

The warrior stared down at his massive hands, his fingers laced together.  "Hnh," he grunted, smiling ruefully at Jiseth.  "Aren't we a Hu'teghing fine pair.  Sitting here and stewing in our misery."  His expression shifted to one of concern, lightning quick, in his own mercurial way.  "Do...they hurt you?"

[Jiseth]

"Yes!"

Jiseth's response was as quick, but not loud enough to carry. It was more of a hiss than anything. She set her fork down with a click against the plate and guzzled down her glass of water as fast as she could.

"It took a very long time for them to calibrate and drinking causes all sorts of problems with how they interpret signals. They get confused, I feel pain. I think the best rate I was able to accomplish was a half bottle of wine over the course of three hours. You know what's crap? This is the very first time I regret anything that involves you. I shouldn't have opened my mouth about this stupid liquid stuff, but we used to do it all the time. It was fun. Comforting. I miss it. Don't you?"

[Raynor Hughes]

"Yes!"

Jiseth's response was as quick, but not loud enough to carry. It was more of a hiss than anything. She set her fork down with a click against the plate and guzzled down her glass of water as fast as she could.

"It took a very long time for them to calibrate and drinking causes all sorts of problems with how they interpret signals. They get confused, I feel pain. I think the best rate I was able to accomplish was a half bottle of wine over the course of three hours. You know what's crap? This is the very first time I regret anything that involves you. I shouldn't have opened my mouth about this stupid liquid stuff, but we used to do it all the time. It was fun. Comforting. I miss it. Don't you?"

Well.  Raynor certainly felt like a royal ass, now.

"I'm sorry," he rumbled.  The apology was a rarity in and of itself - not something that people often heard.  "I didn't know.  I just...well."  He flashed a grin.  "I just assumed."  Raynor looked down at the glass, suddenly not even wanting to finish it.  "Yes, we had fun," he quietly said, coming as close to looking sheepish as was possible for a Klingon.  If there was anything that Jiseth was good at, it was throwing his emotions into a puree and drinking them for the nutritional value.

He suddenly looked up, his expression one of focused control once again.  "Come with me," he said, less of a question and more of a statement of what was going to happen.

[Jiseth]

With a head tilt and an eyebrow raised, she scarfed down as much of the dessert as she could before leaving a few slips of latinum on the table. For a society that touted how it abolished money, there always seemed to be a great deal of gratitude in receiving gratuity. Plus the waiter had been quite adequate with their drinks so he deserved a little something in her mind.

As she stood, Jiseth made sure her legs would cooperate. There was a quick checklist she had made for herself, as pilots always seemed to need one for everything, testing the movements of her toes and ankles. Taking care not to forget the book or glasses, they were held one in each hand. Sliding up next to Raynor, her right arm hooked around his left.

"Alright, lead the way."

[Raynor Hughes]

With a head tilt and an eyebrow raised, she scarfed down as much of the dessert as she could before leaving a few slips of latinum on the table. For a society that touted how it abolished money, there always seemed to be a great deal of gratitude in receiving gratuity. Plus the waiter had been quite adequate with their drinks so he deserved a little something in her mind.

As she stood, Jiseth made sure her legs would cooperate. There was a quick checklist she had made for herself, as pilots always seemed to need one for everything, testing the movements of her toes and ankles. Taking care not to forget the book or glasses, they were held one in each hand. Sliding up next to Raynor, her right arm hooked around his left.

"Alright, lead the way."

There was a small twinge of regret at leaving 2/3 of a bottle of firewine on the table, but Raynor quickly dashed it away.  It wouldn't have been right to keep drinking it in front of Jiseth, with her condition what it was.  Besides - the fun was drinking with her, not around her.  Anyway.  Raynor accepted her arm around his, wondering if she just craved the companionship and closeness, or if she just simply needed help walking.  Either way, there were a few things that a large Klingon was good for, and that included both of those things.

Columbus's corridors moved by fairly quickly as the pair made their way through them.  Then again, a Klingon and a Romulan walking together tended to make people decide that they had elsewhere to be, and fast.  Raynor rather enjoyed watching technicians and civilians alike scamper out of the way.  Soon enough, they came upon the Medical ward.  Raynor nodded toward the entrance.  "Not Sickbay, but let's get to the recovery ward.  I have an idea."

[Jiseth]

Jiseth felt a touch odd wearing such a large had indoors far from direct sunlight. It gave little distraction, however, to the sound of her own legs. Her easy stride felt more like marching. Constant and purposeful rather than graceful. She had been quite fond of her ability to sneak up on people and now that seemed to be a distant memory.

For a moment she tensed up at the sight of the Medical Ward sign. She knew Zero was stationed elsewhere, but she had also spent more than enough time confined to a bed. Such a place was generally the last she wanted to be in. Even so, the Romulan trusted this Klingon enough to see where this was going and what mad idea had taken root in his head.

"Could have gone to the hangar if you wanted to get me an oil change."

[Raynor Hughes]

Jiseth felt a touch odd wearing such a large had indoors far from direct sunlight. It gave little distraction, however, to the sound of her own legs. Her easy stride felt more like marching. Constant and purposeful rather than graceful. She had been quite fond of her ability to sneak up on people and now that seemed to be a distant memory.

For a moment she tensed up at the sight of the Medical Ward sign. She knew Zero was stationed elsewhere, but she had also spent more than enough time confined to a bed. Such a place was generally the last she wanted to be in. Even so, the Romulan trusted this Klingon enough to see where this was going and what mad idea had taken root in his head.

"Could have gone to the hangar if you wanted to get me an oil change."

Giving a sidelong smirk at the Romulan, Raynor felt her tense up.  He'd expected that, to be honest.  Jiseth was one of many officers that didn't really like Sickbay that much.  She also had a long and arduous experience in her recovery, so Raynor wasn't at all surprised that she wasn't hopping with excitement at the next chance to be back.  Actually, 'hopping' probably wasn't the best word to use, either.

"You can tend to your own oil," Raynor replied, a hint of teasing in his tone.  "Unless you're initiating par'Mach, in which case you'll do better by throwing the can at me."  The Klingon led her through the bay, nodding toward an open bed.  "Go ahead and lie back," he commanded.  "You trust me, don't you?" 

[Jiseth]

"Tsh, and what? Just grease you up and try to catch you? Oh yeah, he's a big guy, but you just can't grab hold of the slippery bastard. Aw damn, he's like a loose pig on the promenade!"

There must have been few emergencies in the sector of space for a medical facility to have open space. Jiseth was not quite up to date with current affairs or politics. Wars came and went like the breeze and the only real difference was what color would rain down from metal clouds high above a planet. Romulans and Klingons shared at least one thing: the baleful green of disruptors.

"I generally don't if people feel they have to ask, but..."

She laid the book on the small tray table whose arm was currently swung out away from the bed which was then covered by her hat. Her sandals came off as well as she slipped onto the mattress and put her head back against the large pillows.

"...Luckily for me these things aren't detachable so it's not like you can take them and run off."

[Raynor Hughes]

"Tsh, and what? Just grease you up and try to catch you? Oh yeah, he's a big guy, but you just can't grab hold of the slippery bastard. Aw damn, he's like a loose pig on the promenade!"

There must have been few emergencies in the sector of space for a medical facility to have open space. Jiseth was not quite up to date with current affairs or politics. Wars came and went like the breeze and the only real difference was what color would rain down from metal clouds high above a planet. Romulans and Klingons shared at least one thing: the baleful green of disruptors.

"I generally don't if people feel they have to ask, but..."

She laid the book on the small tray table whose arm was currently swung out away from the bed which was then covered by her hat. Her sandals came off as well as she slipped onto the mattress and put her head back against the large pillows.

"...Luckily for me these things aren't detachable so it's not like you can take them and run off."

Raynor was silent for a half second, and then he threw back his head and laughed - something that he'd done more of today than any other recent time.  "Greased wrestling sounds more like Romulan foreplay, to me.  You all are so repressed and stilted, it wouldn't surprise me in the least."  The Klingon crossed his arms over his broad chest as Jiseth made herself comfortable on the biobed.  "Not detachable, right.  I will make a note of that."

The Klingon reached over behind them, pulling a privacy curtain closed and cutting off the section from the rest of the ward.  This wasn't the main Sickbay area, more of a convalescent recovery section, but Raynor was still glad to see that there was very little activity as of yet.  "Now.  I am going to see what I can do for you.  I want you to give me feedback along the way, and maybe we can develop a regimen that myself, or your regular doctor, can perform."  He made specific pains not to mention Zero.  What are the odds,, he thought.  We both have doctors on the other side of burned bridges in our lives.

One thing that people often forgot was that Raynor was actually an accredited osteopath, having completed his degree on Earth years ago.  Reaching down, he smoothed his hands along her artificial shins.  While Raynor had always been attracted to Jiseth, there was more of a feeling of doctor and patient that controlled his actions as he moved the hem of he dress up, exposing the legs above her knees.  "I'm going to touch along some pressure points.  Nerves, muscles.  I want you to tell me what hurts, and what doesn't."

[Jiseth]

A long, rather satisfied, smirk tugged at the right side of her lips as Raynor laughed. At the very least she could do that for a friend. She tried to put their surroundings out of her mind as she closed her eyes. The amount of pleasant memories of medical facilities had been drowned out by the poor ones in recent years.

She missed popping in and seeing Henriks caring for patients as if they were family. Zero may have had the bedside manner of a Tal Shiar interrogator, but she was effective and treated each case as her own personal mental challenge. Raynor could build someone up or brutally crush them. Either way, he certainly made an art of it, though she found the former far more endearing of a Klingon. Truth be told, she loved all three of them greatly. The damning thing about it, however, was how much she hated herself for it.

You couldn't just leave them well enough alone, could you? You just had to meddle in their lives. Create bonds just to break them. Not even let them burn, no, let time do the dirty work. That part of their heart withering away.

"Sure, but realize... I don't feel anything along my shins. Around the knees, I can feel the pressure, but they're not sensitive. Almost numb. Maybe an inch or two above that is where things are actually normal."