fic for Lily
Apr. 8th, 2006 07:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_lady_lilith_ as a response to the song titles challenge. the song title in question was I Wanna Hold Your Hand, by the Beatles. I confess the allusions to it are a bit less than visible, but they're there.
Title: Intertwined
Author: chanter
Series: TNG
Characters/pairings: one-sided Gomez/La Forge
Rating: PG
Summary: He’s feeling this, just as much as I am. Sonia Gomez’s thoughts after the first Borg attack.
Minor spoilers for Q Who? With Geordi’s line taken directly from the script.
451 words
My world is spinning.
Better make that my head is spinning. Or both. Or something else entirely… maybe the ship is spinning? Maybe my head is just reeling.
It’s all I can concentrate on now, besides the psychologically rotating floor and the endless sequence of fingers to keys to tools and the hot chocolate still under my fingernails, a holographic projection on slow repeat--windows, doors and eighteen flickers of colored uniforms tumbling into space. Horrible. Terrible.
Somewhere through my haze I hear myself asking, questions about shields and processors and it invariably comes out about the images in my head. And I overdo it, blast my Starfleet training because no one can possibly be trained for death. Definitely not me. And apparently it’s too much for him too, but after the training in him makes him try glossing it over the man beneath the rank snaps at me and then withdraws it, and when I look up and over he’s willingly unguarded, and the gentleness that’s always been as much a part of him as engineering has leaks through and even beneath his visor he’s readable.
He’s as shaken by this as I am, maybe more. And I know he’ll show it after this is over, when and if we’re landed in our own space, maybe with Troi, maybe with Data or maybe when he’s alone, crying heartfelt tears over a rare sleepless night in his quarters. Maybe with me, if wishes come true--nothing intimate because that’s just a daydream, maybe the quiet intensity of fingers intertwined will be our only contact. But I know he’ll show his grief.
Probably even more than I will.
“Let’s just concentrate on getting these shields up, hmm?”
It colors his voice, and he’s more pleasant than military any day of the week to begin with so the soothing quality is just another step in a natural direction. The way he ends that sentence speaks volumes, confirms a humanity I haven’t seen beneath the armor of any other senior officer so far--not even Troi, surprisingly--and most of those volumes speak directly to me. He’s feeling this, just as much as I am. Probably more.
And it’s that connection on top of all the reasons he’s so likable that makes me twice as driven to do everything right. If he wants the shields up, I’ll make certain they are and in record time if possible. Anything, everything. Say the word.
And if today goes the way I’m afraid it will and it’s the last day, it won’t matter. I’m willing to protect and serve, delay my tears and serve, reroute and serve.
Because I trust him.
Today has made me trust him.
_lady_lilith_ as a response to the song titles challenge. the song title in question was I Wanna Hold Your Hand, by the Beatles. I confess the allusions to it are a bit less than visible, but they're there. Title: Intertwined
Author: chanter
Series: TNG
Characters/pairings: one-sided Gomez/La Forge
Rating: PG
Summary: He’s feeling this, just as much as I am. Sonia Gomez’s thoughts after the first Borg attack.
Minor spoilers for Q Who? With Geordi’s line taken directly from the script.
451 words
My world is spinning.
Better make that my head is spinning. Or both. Or something else entirely… maybe the ship is spinning? Maybe my head is just reeling.
It’s all I can concentrate on now, besides the psychologically rotating floor and the endless sequence of fingers to keys to tools and the hot chocolate still under my fingernails, a holographic projection on slow repeat--windows, doors and eighteen flickers of colored uniforms tumbling into space. Horrible. Terrible.
Somewhere through my haze I hear myself asking, questions about shields and processors and it invariably comes out about the images in my head. And I overdo it, blast my Starfleet training because no one can possibly be trained for death. Definitely not me. And apparently it’s too much for him too, but after the training in him makes him try glossing it over the man beneath the rank snaps at me and then withdraws it, and when I look up and over he’s willingly unguarded, and the gentleness that’s always been as much a part of him as engineering has leaks through and even beneath his visor he’s readable.
He’s as shaken by this as I am, maybe more. And I know he’ll show it after this is over, when and if we’re landed in our own space, maybe with Troi, maybe with Data or maybe when he’s alone, crying heartfelt tears over a rare sleepless night in his quarters. Maybe with me, if wishes come true--nothing intimate because that’s just a daydream, maybe the quiet intensity of fingers intertwined will be our only contact. But I know he’ll show his grief.
Probably even more than I will.
“Let’s just concentrate on getting these shields up, hmm?”
It colors his voice, and he’s more pleasant than military any day of the week to begin with so the soothing quality is just another step in a natural direction. The way he ends that sentence speaks volumes, confirms a humanity I haven’t seen beneath the armor of any other senior officer so far--not even Troi, surprisingly--and most of those volumes speak directly to me. He’s feeling this, just as much as I am. Probably more.
And it’s that connection on top of all the reasons he’s so likable that makes me twice as driven to do everything right. If he wants the shields up, I’ll make certain they are and in record time if possible. Anything, everything. Say the word.
And if today goes the way I’m afraid it will and it’s the last day, it won’t matter. I’m willing to protect and serve, delay my tears and serve, reroute and serve.
Because I trust him.
Today has made me trust him.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-09 02:43 am (UTC)This episode was on TV the other day, so I can even see it happening. And I see the song connection, too. Good take on it. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-04-09 06:05 am (UTC)Thank you! *beams* Glad you like it.