“Damn, that doesn’t disappoint.”

“Mmm, it doesn’t,” Lavender agreed, taking the time to finish her mouthful before doing so, just for Arin. “You’re damn good, Arin. And I’m the lucky one, especially with all the shit I’ve put you through recently.”

Arin listened intently, “You needed help, it started as simply as that. I wasn’t expecting to lose myself to you in the transaction. I also regret nothing.” Arin smiled and winked.  She said, taking another bite and enjoying the time together.

She let Lavender nourish her body. Her psyche would be another matter. Looking at Lavender, she marveled at the woman before her. “Do not underplay this win,” Arin said.

Seeing the look of confusion on Lavender’s face, Arin added, “I wish you could see how I see you right now. The strength and courage it took to face this. Smart, fierce, and determined. You are a damned doctor. Holding people’s lives in your literal hands. I can fly through a black hole easier than some of the things you do, from my perspective.”

“So yes, be proud of yourself. I sure the hell am.” Arin said, taking another bite, while she admired Lavender. Yes she was pretty, but beauty of spirit was something Arin believed in.

“Heh.” Lavender made a noise of surprise, using all her willpower to put down her food for a moment, it was so good. “Other way around for me. I pray you never see me piloting. Thing is, doctoring I can do. I can fix people. I may not make them feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but if there’s a mess of blood, guts and miscellaneous human innards if anyone can get them back functioning again it’s me. If there’s someone you want to suck up to an Admiral? Not me. Definitely not me. You probably wanna post me to a different planet for the visit. That’s the hard part. That’s what I’m working on. Stuff I just see as being so boring and pointless and banal, the socialising and the schmoozing and the happiness. Seems so odd when there’s such barbarity happening. Hypocritical, to me. But I guess we have to find the happiness or we’ll go insane, right?” Lavender’s grey-green eyes moved past Arin to the window in thought.

“I can’t keep pushing everyone away with my anger. I’m not angry with them. I’m angry with everything. With existence. For dealing me such a shit hand. And… I need to find a way to get past that. Not be angry with the people around me for all the bull and injustice in the galaxy. Hell it’s not their fault, is it?”

Lavender surrendered to the food and took another bite.

“Shorry that wash heavy,” she said as she chewed, covering her mouth with a hand.

Arin smiled and shrugged. “Thing is, I get it. That broken road and I are…used to each other.” She took a bite letting the seed of that thought process through the woman before her. Sipping her coffee as she gathered her thoughts, Arin added, “though some of the bumps and holes are going to be different for you to complete the imperfect analogy. Why I am so good with THINGS. I can fix stuff. That’s the easy part. People can be hard.”

“Life isn’t always supposed to be warm and fuzzy. Be nice if it was. So I grab the cookie, take the orgasm, smoke the cigar, and get up and go to work. But that is me. Moderation was a trick I had to learn and…what to stay away from.” Arin commented.

“Which for me is alcohol, right now,” Lavender said, finally addressing the elephant in the room. “I’m the same. Take the happiness where you find it ’cause that shit is rare. I’m not a full-blown alcoholic, it was a temporary medicinal dependency but either way, I need to not use it to drown my issues and deal with them properly, no matter how scary that is. And it fucking is, trust me.”

“Why I plan on sticking around as your wingman, guardian, personal chef. Whatever you need. Finding creative outlets, and channeling that energy into something if not positive, at least not negative. Stabilize the patient, then cure them. Baby steps if that is what it takes.” Reaching for Lavender’s hand, she guided her to the spare room. “Now, this is the place I have the stuff, but not what I need to show you. I can hear my grandmother now, ‘Idle hands of the work of the devil, Arin.’ and she’d make me do chores. So I decided hobbies were a better idea and…”

As the door slid open, a mostly complete flat-four internal combustion motor sat on an engine stand. Tools and other accessories lie around the room. “I tried meditation. I tried therapy. Turns out, I needed horsepower.” Closing the door, she added, “Point is if I can help you figure out what your next steps are. Let me know. We never did work on that smaller beauty station idea.” Arin added.

Lavender nodded, walking about the motor, taking in all the various attachments and bits and bobs, none of which meant anything to her. She looked up at Arin, in time.

“So that’s where all this driving flying vehicles stuff comes from. I get what you’re saying. I need a hobby. Well fuck if that isn’t a good idea. Now then. I like to eat and I like music but actual like stuff? With things? Hmm. What do I… like… to do?”

It was a real question she was posing. Of course Arin wouldn’t know. Lavender didn’t know herself. But she hoped she would in time.

“Let’s see how good she is at cleaning the kitchen with me first.”  “Arin teased.

“I mean… grab stuff, put stuff in the replicator, press recycle. Hardly needs a degree in Warp Theory, Arin…” Lavender grinned back, inspecting some part or other attached to the motor.

“And yet here you are.” Arin teased. “Not cleaning. I offer a counter-proposal. We finish the muffins, I could use more coffee, and then maybe work off some of that, what do you do for cardio besides me? Bicycles, swimming, yoga?”

Lavender’s hand went to her hip and the Latin part of her accent came out strongly, her index finger raised, moving with attitude as she spoke.

“Ohhh, I get you. Because my mom is Mexican I’m your cleaning lady now?” She joked. “Well while I’m cleaning up for you Irish, why don’t you find a pot of gold and lucky charms at the end of the nearest rainbow to pay me with, hmm?”

Lavender swaggered past her girlfriend back into the other room and picked up her coffee mug.

“Well now,” she said, after a sip, “I used to work fifteen hours a day and climb that holo-skyscraper every day too, neither of which I’ll be doing from now on, so the post of exercise routine is currently open. Biking is too happy families, yoga is very yummy mummy and girl you know I can’t swim. Yoga isn’t out though. I like the idea of all the balancing and poise. And you’ll like the idea of me being flexible. More flexible. But I’m open.”

“Hey,” Arin said, quickly pecking her on the lips to break her focus.  “Yoga is fine. Gymnastics is out as these puppies, don’t promote balance.” She said pushing her arms together making her cleavage pop out a bit.  At least you have a shot at balance. Not giving up my road bike. You think once around the park. My brain goes, let’s upgrade the bike and see if I can break my record time for the 100km.” She paused.

“So yoga for starters, maybe some weight training?” Arin asked. Moving back the kitchenette, and placing the plates stacked into the replicator.

“Sounds good,” Lavender replied. “Hey, I thought I was clearing up?”

Earlier

Yay. I would love to see you. Name the place.

The reply blinked on her office screen as Lavender returned from seeing the Captain and plonked herself on the chair. Lavender’s heart-rate quickened and she tapped out a response with the long and gothic nails she was holding on to dearly until she had to take them off when she resumed work. Where was good?

My quarters off-limits. Lounge? Or yours. Not the holodeck. You decide. She wrote and sent it, realising that both she and Arin had told each other to decide. Oh well.

Let’s start in my quarters and we can always move to the lounge or arboretum. Maybe something is in bloom?

The message came in after Lavender had barely had time to do anything, not that she was going to. She was waiting for the response, her eyes glued to the part of her screen where messages popped up. Arin’s quarters. That worked.

OMW lavender wrote quickly and sent it before considering that Arin might want some time to prepare. It also occurred to the doctor as she tapped out another line of text that there was something she also should take care of. She had the bottle to do it, so now was a good time. Taking care of a thing on the way. Call it ten minutes. Lavender checked the holodeck usage and rising, she departed quickly without a word to anyone.

Mercifully still empty as she arrived, Lavender told the holodeck computer to start program Lavender Haigh Two and entered. The familiar high-rises of M’talas Prime greeted her as she moved into the space, the familiar smells, the glass, the roar of crowds and shuttles, the blaring neon lights. It was so familiar. At one point it had been a comfort to Lavender, but now… the Raven Empress regarded the scenes with an annoyance of past pain remembered.

“Computer, delete program and all backups on all servers on this ship and across the Federation.”

“Please confirm full deletion, this command cannot be undone,” the computer responded.

“Confirm, delete them all.”

“Program deleted.” The holodeck shimmered to emptiness once-again. That had been easy. Saying goodbye to M’talas Prime and her childhood properly had been one small part of the intensive counselling she had been receiving. Far too much looking back, not enough forward. Too much existing as who she was in the past, not who she was now. But next came the hard one. Hard didn’t properly begin to describe it.

“Computer, load program Lavender Haigh One.” The image of one body shimmered into being, static in the yellow-chequed space. It was her mother, and besides a photo cube in Lavender’s, well, in her bags as of that moment but usually positioned in her quarters, it was the only image of her, one constructed from the afore-mentioned photo cube. Lavender stared into her face. It was her own face, largely. They looked so similar. Sofia’s eyes were brown and her skin was darker than her daughter’s was, but the resemblance was striking. Lavender moved closer, staring into the taller woman’s eyes, regarding every little feature of the image so faithfully recreated. Her heart thumped.

Deep breath followed deep breath. Lavender remembered phrases her Psychiatrists had said. How she wasn’t moving on and couldn’t until she left her childhood behind. How she had to establish who she was as an adult besides a rebel and a gobby mess. How she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t integrate into any crew properly and how she couldn’t find pride in herself and love herself, how she couldn’t make peace with what had happened to her, her father, her mother and her uncle until all of that was behind her. Academically, she knew it was correct. There was logic and wisdom in all of those assertions. But still, moving on from the life denied and accepting the life that is can never be easy. But what is should not be overshadowed by what could have been.

“Computer…” Lavender’s lip started to tremble. Her chest rose and fell in another deep breath. Her jaw muscles flexed and her lips pursed in anguish as she willed herself beyond any other will in her twenty nine previous years to do the right thing and, in doing so, not to cry. Her talonesque nails dug into her palms with ferocity. “C… computer…”

There was no sound in Lavender’s ears but the thumping of her heart.

“…delete program and all backups on all servers on this ship and across the Federation.”

“Please confirm full deletion, this com…”

“JUST FUCKING DO IT!” Lavender screamed. “Confirm!”

“Program deleted.”

There was nothing where Sofia had stood. Nothing but yellow lines and black voids. Lavender gained control of her breathing, in time, and shook her head out vigorously before turning and walking straight out of the room, without looking back.