A Day at the Beach (2)

Posted on Sat Sep 13th, 2014 @ 9:54pm by Ensign Robyn Maxwell & Ensign Scott Fisher

1,088 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?
Location: Qapla Resort
Timeline: Current

"Are you ok?" Robyn asked, the smile fading from her face.

Scott nodded. " Ofcourse." he said but was unconvincing enough to make her twist over and sit up so she could see him better.

"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully,perching on folded knees.

He looked past her back along the beach to the flag merrily waving from the topmost tower of the resorts main building.

{I 'will' master this.....} he told himself {.....I 'can' control it....}
Avoiding her, he turned his head and gazed out to sea staring into the middle distance.
{I 'can' and I 'will'}

He forced himself to look at her and as he did so, the figurative knife lodged in his solar plexus twisted its serrated edge.

She was so close that he could have reached out and touched her and if she had said anything else, anything at all other than the words that had ended his hopes, then he would have done so.
He would have said everything he'd geared up to say but looking into her blue eyes now and seeing them searching his own, he felt himself begin to be torn apart.

"Scott.." she began, concern in her tone and expression.

He reached out, fingers trembling slightly and grabbed the flask propped up in the sand.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked quickly unscrewing the top. He had to do something other than look at her.

Robyn frowned, watching him fill a tumbler.

"No, I'm fine." she replied unable to work out what was wrong.
The day had been so pleasant until a few moments ago and yet now for some unexplained reason it had changed.

He gulped down the liquid which felt like sawdust in his mouth, wiped the back of his hand across his lips and put the flask back in place with infinite care.
With great inward effort he remet her worried gaze.

"That's better." he said and flickered a smile at her.

She returned it, feeling more reassured.
"Too much sun?" she asked searching for a reason.

"Yes..yes probably." he lied grasping the excuse.

"Perhaps we'd better head back..." she suggested "...unless you want to wait a while...until you feel better?"

What a choice.
To stay where they were on the beach uninterrupted by anyone,to be able to look at her, to appreciate the contours of her body and lightly tanned skin , to reach out and touch her if he chose to, to hear her voice, have her lay near to him relaxed and unsuspecting.
Or they could return to the ship and part company, ending this torment for now only to have it begin again tomorrow in sickbay.
"I'm fine" he'd say when she asked, " Just too much sun" and she might make a joke of it, say something funny and he'd laugh too pretending all was as it had ever been but quietly dying inside.

{This is perdition} he told himself.

She wondered what he was thinking about. He seemed lost in thoughts and although their gaze was locked on each other, she had the impression that he was very far away.

A breeze came up from the sea, disturbing the air which had until then been still.

It moved the curling tendrils of her hair that had escaped from the pretty shell clasp.
In less than a second he could lift his hand and push them back, entwine his fingers in the softness of her hair and gently tuck it behind her ear running his fingers against her cheek and along the line of her jaw.
He closed his eyes.

"Scott?"

She spoke quietly, laying her hand on his arm as she half whispered his name.
His silence and distance worried her. It wasn't like him to behave this way. He looked almost wretched.

The touch jogged him from his reverie and her whispering his name was just too much.

He shook his head.
"Perhaps we'd better head back." he said wanting to be gone from this place and this situation.

"Al...alright." she said uncertainly, withdrawing her hand. "I'll gather the things...it wont take..."

"I'll do it." he said roughly getting to his feet, his lips drawn in a tight line. He picked up his towel stuffing it into the beachbag then the flask and tumblers.
She was still kneeling on her towel watching this almost frantic behaviour but jumped up quickly when he looked down at her with what seemed to be impatience.
Lifting her own towel, she gave it a little shake and began to fold it but before she had chance Scott pulled it from her hands pushing it too inside the bag.

Robyn quickly picked up their straw hats lying side by side on the sand and offered his to him. He took it wordlessly holding it in his hand, slinging the beach bag onto his shoulder and began to walk off.

Hurriedly she jammed her wide brimmed hat over her hair, pushed her slender feet into her sandals and ran to catch up with him.
He was walking fast, his strides naturally longer than hers causing her the need to add a running step now and then just to keep up.

She looked at him, biting her lower lip fearful almost of why he was behaving like this.

Even in his present state and possibly because of it, he realized he was being unreasonable and told himself that none of this situation was her fault, that she had no idea what her words had meant to him and that he was making it worse, upsetting her, causing her to worry.
His pace slowed then stopped as he turned to look at her and met her clear blue eyes full of concern and confusion.

She spoke first, trying to make things right.

"I'm sorry the day has ended like this." she said. " but you'll feel better when you're back on the ship."
She forced a glimmer of a smile in an effort to assure him that she understood.
"Here..." she said dropping her gaze to the beachbag. "...let me take that." and before he could stop her, she took hold of the strap pulling it from his shoulder and hoisting it onto her own.

"I'm sorry too Robyn." he said quietly, looking down at her.

Once again she laid her hand on his arm oblivious of the pain it caused him.

"It's alright." she said." It doesn't matter."


***End Log ***

Ensign Robyn Maxwell
MO
USS Vindicator
&
Ensign Scott Fisher
MO
USS Vindicator

 

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