JL | Com Ivanova, Capt Neyes - CO, Pilot | "Fire and Sleet and Candle-lighte"

Posted on Thu Jul 13th, 2017 @ 9:34pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Captain Landon Neyes

1,677 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Resurgere

When first he'd appeared in her ready room, Rochelle had thought nothing of it. Landon had full run of the Vindicator, her society, and her secrets. She was as much a part of the Trill as she was a part of the Phoenix-like woman that stood as her mistress and as such, that mistress never batted an eye at his comings and goings. Though it had been a solid couple of years since she'd stood as his Executive Officer, she couldn't help but remember him for the Captain he had been; capable and steadfast... Selfless. Chance had stolen him from his bold direction, snatching him from the limelight before he could even reach his prime - and for that, she felt guilty. Never once had he seemed displeased over the course his life had taken, if anything he seemed genuinely content with the fact he simply lived and breathed. Everything else had become icing.

It was only when he placed the PADD down on her deck, pressing it across the polished Pietersite desktop in her direction, that she'd taken notice of the look in his eye. He was restless but amused. Those oddly soulful baby blues held within them a certain glint and glitter that she'd seen many times before and knew that the contents of that PADD were sure to be interesting... And interesting they were. "A pilot." She stated more than asked, kicking back in her seat. It could have been worse, she decided, he could have wanted to join Archer in his pursuits. Being a pilot, handling the shuttles as it were, was fun at best and painless at worst. Landon had always been more than capable at the controls of any number of craft. She'd have accepted the request because of that reason alone, but the fact she loved him and knew he'd never accept any other answer weighed in as a close second in her decision-making process. It didn't mean she wouldn't make him work for it. Banter had always been among the ties that bound them so tightly together. "May I ask why?" She asked, tipping the PADD towards her chest and peering at her husband from above the plastic of its top edge.

Landon leaned over the desk, bringing his line of vision up and over her PADD. "You may, but I don't think you need to." Neyes met her eyes, while his own thinned out slightly. "Tristan can keep an eye on our son when we can't." Landon had been going stir crazy sitting in the cabin of their room. The crew gave him plenty to do, and he'd often help out on various engineering jobs, but it was getting old. He'd lived his life running ships, big and small, and the recent weeks had shown him just how benign his life would become if he simply sat back and waiting for someone to ask him for help.
"This way I have... something, anything, to do on a regular basis. I have a purpose on the ship. I don't have to feel bad telling Crewman Vox to do his own EPS calibrations." He slipped back into his chair, slowly lowering himself away from her once again. He had carefully considered asking her for this and had ultimately decided he needed a change.

The sudden nearness of him, his face scant inches from hers, was met with the slow rise of one of her brows. Landon had always been a challenge, insisting on pushing boundaries and shirking convention. Had he been anyone else, she'd have likely put them back in their chair with bark, bite, or combination of the two. Not him. He knew how far he could toy with her, and their familiarity gave him rise to press those magic buttons one by precious one until she either popped or caved. Either way, he knew how to win the war. Rochelle's tongue traced the edge of her upper lip as she met those eyes and followed them as they receded back to a 'safe distance' from her. "I have to admit, I've grown tired of Vox writing complaints... He hasn't quite figured out that it's his job, not yours, and he's only going to be told as much... Again." She shrugged, perfectly portraying an air of indifference and fanning the PADD in a fashion most idle... Feigning consideration. "Javaan does love Tristan, behaves with him..." she mused, standing from her seat to round the edge of her desk, "and you are a decent pilot. Talented, even."

Neyes slowly tilted his head to the right, his eyes widening as he said, "You're almost there... just say it out loud."

The Commodore could practically feel his heart rate quicken, thudding heavily in the suddenly heavy air between them. It was ripe with anticipation, his, and she could hardly stand to play the game any longer - he'd worked for it long enough and she knew he'd never give up or surrender to a 'let me think on it'. She sighed, toying with an imaginary flaw in the PADD's casing as she studied the request once more, pressing her thumb to the proper space to authorize the transfer and to send him back to active duty officially. "I'd say 'Welcome aboard', but you're already here." Leaning over, she placed the signed request down in front of him. "Living arrangements remain the same. You're still stuck in the command suite with that damned Commo--"

With a slap he brought his palm down to smack the desk, the victory getting the better of him. The shuttle bay was already filling up the spaces in his mind he'd previously reserved for watching the colors change on control panels. He stood up and put his hands out in front of him, gleefully looking at them as if they rested on something solid. "I can already feel the Helm." He closed his eyes, and then quickly opened only one to look at her again.

"You're not just doing this to placate me, wife?" He prodded.

Startled by his sudden flurry of activity and the sound of his hand slapping the stone desktop, she reeled back enough to deposit herself on the corner of it. It wasn't the most graceful motion, but it suited the situation and gave him the room to maneuver as needed. He was happy, bright and beaming with the same brand of giddiness that held her hostage each and every time she was allowed to leap for the stars. Mission after mission, she felt it and caved to its calling. While they very much belonged to one another, they were still children of the cosmos first and foremost. "Would I do that?" She drawled, meeting his suspicious gaze with a wry one of her own.

She would do almost anything for him, he knew, and he had tried to respect the standard way of operating on a Starship for so long. Stay in the background, keep a respectful distance in the eyes of the crew, that sort of thing. Before now he had held a sort of ambivalent opinion about his place on the Vindicator. He was the CO's husband and an unpositioned officer under her command. Starfleet brass had all but insisted he move to his own command on another vessel, but given their history, as well as their son, Rocky and Landon both agreed to remain on the same ship. The situation offered its fair share of complications to Rochelle's careful balance of the appropriateness of their relationship. Landon retained every intention of making her command easier in any way he could, but on the same token, he needed more. Javaan would start school sooner rather than later, and it was time.

Landon moved around the desk, a cheeky smile on his face. "Thank you, Commodore. I'll have to find some way to repay you." He leaned over, careful to come as close to her as he possibly could. He reached past her, the bulk of his shoulder brushing against hers, to grab a cracker from her secret stash behind the desk. Before she could protest, he quickly placed a tiny kiss on her cheek and retreated from her space to the safety of the ready room's entrance. He made a little salute with two fingers against his brow. "Commodore."

For the briefest of moments, the blue of her eyes was obscured by her lashes as they fell – and her breath hitched somewhere in her throat. It didn’t matter how hard they fought to preserve that air of professionalism during the hours they wore their uniforms, it didn’t matter how much they told one another that they needed to be careful and delicate in order to honor the tradition of their ranks and places – Rochelle was damned the moment he approached. And he knew it. The same way she’d known when he’d denied Starfleet’s demand that he take up command of a vessel once more, that what they had hadn’t simply remained for the sake of celebrating a second lease on life. It was real. It was theirs, and now, perhaps more than ever she cherished him. Loved him. Or, rather, she had loved him until his lips glanced the apple of her cheek as he brushed on past her and the scraping sound of one of her precious saltines being pilfered broke the din. By the time she truly registered what it was the cheeky bastard had done, it was too late to stop him. Only the ghost of his cologne remained close enough to retaliate against.

"Captain." With a lifted brow and pursed lips, Rochelle finally nodded in response, watching him as he departed from the sanctity of her ready room with her cracker, and her ire, in tow. Repayment, indeed, would come.

While he walked out, his voice receded into the corridor as he spoke through a cracker-filled mouth, "Love you!"

---

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX 78213-F


Captain Landon Neyes
Pilot
USS VINDICATOR, NX 78213-F

 

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