A Late Night Picnic

Since T'Pren had time between being dismissed from Rai's office and when he was supposed to get off-duty, she decided to go a little elaborate to make up for her unfortunate news. There was nothing particularly fancy about her clothing: just some leggings and an oversized shirt in her typically low key style.

She had set the holosuite up as a meadow, vast and open with a horizon that went on forever and tall green and yellow grasses filled with wildflowers. It was Earth, that much was obvious, with a copse of massive oak trees providing a little shade over half the blanket she'd set out. There was a bottle of champagne sitting on ice because she knew Rai would want to drink and replicated salad and fruit and cheese and bread and honey. A hammock hung nearby, as did a wooden swing, and a creek trickled by several feet away.

But by the time Rai would actually arrive, T'Pren had already stripped down naked, stretched out on a flat rock by the creek, soaking up the warmth of the artificial sunlight with her eyes closed.

When Rai had arrived, he was still in uniform. "Pren?" he called out. "Where are you?" he followed the path down to the creek. He spotted the trail of scattered clothing, and picked up the blanket.
"Pren," he said, finding her laying on a stone. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
"Let's talk for a while."

The moment T'Pren heard Rai's voice, her cheeks turned an unhappy green. It only got worse when he actually put fabric on her rather than trying to take it off. She sat up already worrying her bottom lip as she looked at him, trying to decipher from their connection and his expression what was coming. Her heart fluttered with mild fear and uncertainty. "Okay," was all she said.

He puffed his cheeks out, sighing. "I have done... the wrong thing. I ignored my conscience and my sense of professionalism because... I was lonely. It was absolutely the wrong thing to do, you see. We're going on the Hippolyta soon, and we can't take this, what has been happening, with us on the mission. I also don't believe we should resume when we return. I'm going to lose my objectivity as an officer. I'll always, however, be your friend." His eyes downcast, and he swallowed a small lump in his throat.

The half-Vulcan pulled the blanket tightly around her shoulders and slumped forward, pulling her knees up to her chest to protect herself against what Rai was saying. She found she was simultaneously surprisingly empty of response and also hurt in a way she hadn't expected from so short a tryst. And just as she felt like there might be a few hot tears pushing to the surface, she shoved her hands over her face and took a deep breath.

Rai could no doubt feel her carefully packing away her hurt from him and from herself. Her expression, though heavy and clearly wounded, was otherwise impassive.

She didn't speak for a very long time, and when she did, her cheeks betrayed her with an emerald hue that would make a rainforest jealous. "It didn't feel wrong," she pointed out frankly but quietly, studying Rai's face for his response.

His face was absolutely fraught with guilt. "No, it didn't. That doesn't mean it's appropriate for me to continue. I'm very sorry, it would be wrong for me to lead you along further," he said.

"What do you mean, lead me along?" asked the half-Vulcan very, very quietly, watching Rai with all the wariness now of a stray cat. She was losing the fight against her hurt. Her cheeks were hot and her throat was tightening, but she had so far managed not to cry. So far.

"I see the way you've been looking at me," he said. "This was supposed to be just for fun, just for a night, and I can tell you're falling for me. I can't let you do that," he said. "I'm very sorry," he added again.

The half-Vulcan was completely miserable now, humiliated and hurt and naked at a picnic that apparently nobody wanted. She couldn't even look at Rai now, staring instead down at her bare feet and switching between worrying her bottom lip and pressing her lips together.

"The way we look at each other," T'Pren murmured at her feet, brow furrowed fiercely. "That's what Tal'Ara said. The way we look at each other." She closed her eyes and shook her head like she was trying to clear the cobwebs away. And suddenly she was looking at Rai like she could see through him into his head. Which, in some ways, she could. "It's one thing to back away because you're my Captain," she argued with soft intensity. "But I've felt you. I've felt..."

Her face fell and she looked away again, unable to find anything worth saying that didn't make her feel like an idiot.

"That doesn't meant anything you've felt from me is insincere," he said. His throat felt dry and his words croaked as he spoke. "I care about your well being very much. I showed it in the most wrong way. I apologize." He had crossed his arms over his chest. "I think this is the best decision for us both, before it gets... too serious. It was getting too serious, too fast. It's just too much for me, and I don't want it," he said.

T'Pren took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, the hurt wrestling with irritation and anger inside her. She stared down at the rock and tried not to cry or tremble. Crying wasn't happening yet, but the trembling was not nearly as under control. Nausea moved through in the background. "You were saying just for tonight, just for tonight," she told the rock in a tight whisper. "And then you stopped saying it."

She closed her eyes again and steadied herself before she leveled a very serious look at Rai and held out her hand, palm up. "Touch me. Touch me and look me in the eye and tell me it's one-sided."

He shook his head. "I can't," he said hoarsely, refusing to let himself be swayed. "It has to end tonight. I've been weak," he said. He tucked his hands into his pocket. "I'm sorry. Goodnight, Lieutenant." He turned to leave, slightly shaken.

"Please," T'Pren called after him, climbing to her feet to follow him if he started to walk away. Her expression was determined and earnest rather than vulnerable and wounded. It was obvious she was hurting even without empathy, but she was focused on Rai. "Darren."

Her brows lifted with her plea. "It will end tonight if that's what you think is best. I won't...I won't fight that. But I need you to not lie to me. Neither of us are cowards, so if we're going to do this, let's do this together. Please. Just give me the whole truth and we will do whatever needs doing." She held out her palm again.

He turned and laid his hand across her own. He let her see the inside of him, which was overwhelmed by the entirety of the last two weeks. He was indeed fond of her, but not in the way she was fond of him.

While they touched, T'Pren shoved her hand across her eyes. She wasn't exactly crying yet, but she was on the verge. Her eyes were overwet and there would no doubt be tracks down her cheeks very, very soon.

When it washed through her, she gave Rai the tiniest of deeply hurt, highly vulnerable smiles. "Oh," she whispered, barely managing to put sound to the breath. A few tears spilled over and she squeezed his hand in thanks.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, what little voice she did find thick with emotion.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I did," he said. "It was all me."

The half-Vulcan shook her head slowly, shoving her free hand over her eyes again. "Please stop saying it was wrong. It wasn't wrong. It never felt wrong. I've never-- no one's ever--" She swallowed thickly and shook her head again. "I needed you," she decided softly. "And you have been here. Completely." There were more tears at that. "Please don't say that was wrong."

T'Pren's expression shifted, a little more troubled than vulnerable for a moment. "If I hadn't...mentioned the Commander's..." The question was in her eyes, even if she couldn't quite make the words.

"Even if you hadn't, someone would have noticed eventually. I don't like sneaking about with a subordinate. It feels dishonest," he said. He could no longer look her in the eye. "I'm sorry. I should go." He knew he couldn't turn around if she called out for him again. From now on, he'd be her Captain, but not her lover.

Since there seemed to be nothing helpful or useful left to say, T'Pren, with tears rolling slowly down her green cheeks, simply choked out, "Thank you, Darren." It was sincere and heavy with all the ways in which she meant it.

The abandoned half-Vulcan stood by the creek with the picnic blanket over her shoulders, naked and heartbroken and alone.