<USS Avalon> Friends from the Heart

=/\= Friends from the Heart =/\=
a log by El-Kainah Ngiao and Miriam Francher

Miriam had gotten some sleep, though she was accustomed to sleeping through 
the latter part of Gamma Shift and into Alpha, and in order to plan this 
breakfast she'd had to get up before Alpha began. She could manage all right. 
She 
set the holodeck for the place she'd planned, and had the breakfast all ready 
before El could arrive.

The summer cabin on the mountain had a panoramic view from nearly every 
window, and the kitchen table sat beside one such window, curtains ruffling 
gently 
in the breeze. Miri wore blue jeans and a plaid shirtthat was really a size 
too big, and gazed out over the canyon below while she waited for her breakfast 
date.

El had started to go directly to the holodeck, but about halfway there he 
decided to go back to his quarters and get a quick shower and change clothes. 
No 
sense in going to a date, if that was what this was, stills melling like he 
had mucked out the stalls at home.  It didn't take him too long, really. A 
quick 
sonic shower and some casual clothes. Acomfortable pair of jeans and a plain 
shirt. He arrived at the holodeck and opened the door. 

He stepped through and took in the scene for a moment. Finally he reached out 
with his mind. ~~Miri? Are you here?~~

The holodeck had been set to let him directly through the front door of the 
house into the living room, and then show him the view when the doors closed 
behind him. Miriam came in from the kitchen as the doors shut, holding out one 
hand in welcome. ~~Good morning, El. Was your shift okay?~~ She wasn't sure 
what else to ask. Just his presence made her heart pound, but she tried to 
ignore 
that.

He nodded. "Yeah, it was fine. Ran into your roommate, actually." He smiled. 
"She is definitely fun."

Miri smiled. If Siobhan could give El what she herself wasn't willing to give 
... well, that was all right. She admitted to herself that she was a little 
jealous, but she could live with that. It was, after all, her own decision not 
to be physically intimate. "I think you'll have fun with her," she said.

He could tell that she was feeling a little jealous and he felt bad about it. 
But it had been her suggestion that he talk with Siobhan.  "Me, too." He 
didn't tell her that they had a date later on in the day.

"I made breakfast," said Miri. "I hope you like Terran food." She led him 
into the spacious kitchen, with its amazing view of the mountainside.

He nodded. "It smells great." He followed her through to the kitchen.

Although the ingredients were, unfortunately, replicated, Miriam had done the 
cooking herself. Bacon and eggs, sausage and potatoes, toast and coffee and 
fresh-squeezed orange juice. Everything held at the perfect freshness and 
temperature, waiting for El to arrive. Miri had learned that trick back home. 
She 
poured juice and coffee, and served up the plates at the table.

He took a moment to admire the view through the big windows that surrounded 
the kitchen and eating area.  It was beautiful.  It looked like it was some 
place in North America perhaps.  After he had finished admiring the view, El 
looked at the spread before them. "How many more people are coming?" He asked. 

She laughed. "Don't tell me you're not hungry!" Her male cousins could easily 
eat this much; she had assumed most young men would have similarn appetites.

He shook his head. "No... I am.  It's just... There is so much food." 

Miriam looked at him closely, puzzled, and then reached to touch his hand. 
The images that assaulted her were confusing and frightening.Startled, she took 
her hand away.

He saw her flinch and pull her hand back. "What?" He asked. 

Her eyes grew wide. "You were starved..."

He nodded. "It was a long time ago," he answered. He could still remember the 
pangs he'd felt. He tried to block them so Miri wouldn't feel them too.

She felt them anyway, and reached for his hand again. "Eat what you want," 
she murmured reassuringly in his own language. "We have anabundance, and 
whatever isn't eaten will be recycled."

"But there is so much," he complained.

Miri laughed at the tone, just a little, and flooded his mind with warmth and 
music. ~~Learn that it's all right to waste,~~ she admonished gently. ~~That 
we can put some in the recycler and it won't be wasted in the long run.~~

He smiled at the song she shared with him. "I am hungry," he admitted. He 
looked at the mountains of food.  âYou eat like this all the time?â he 
asked, 
looking at her.

"Oh, goodness, no," Miri chuckled. "Usually I just grab something from the 
replicator and get on with the day. Even at home, we only have a big breakfast 
once a week ... usually on Saturdays, since we're too busy on Sundays getting 
ready for church and then we have a big Sunday dinner afterwards. Most of the 
time ... well, those who do hard physical labor have to fuel their bodies, but 
my People don't tend to put on weight. We're fairly self-regulating." She was 
keeping the food fresh and hot while they talked, so there was no rush to eat.

El still stood aghast looking at the spread. "I can't believe you went to all 
this trouble." He wasn't sure what to do next. "I guess we should eat before 
it gets cold," he said after another few moments of staring at the food. And 
her.

She took his hand, warmly, and squeezed it for a moment before letting go. 
The flow of communication between them was astonishing. She didn't want to let 
go, but she was disciplined enough to do what she didn't want to do. And she 
was able to busy herself pouring coffee. It kept her from thinking too much.

He saw her face change, and felt something like a barrier go up in her mind. 
"What's wrong?" he asked as she poured him a cup of coffee as well ~~You 
seemed to shut down there... I didn't mean to seem ungrateful for your efforts 
this 
morning.~~

Could she be honest with him? Would he understand? ~~It's not that,~~she told 
him, trying not to blush. ~~I feel ... very close to you, and I'm afraid it 
might be too close for comfort. For either one of us. Or both~~

He looked at her and sipped his coffee before answering her. "You said I 
should talk to Siobhan. That you thought we might have fun together.â  He 
sipped 
his coffee.  âYou said that you weren't interested in seeing me right now. 
Did 
I misunderstand?"

Miri stirred her own coffee, apparently forgetting to drink it. "You didn't 
misunderstand, El. I'm not interested in seeing anyone right now. Not that way. 
Like this..." She gestured at the homelike setting around them, "This is 
different. But not to -- to romp. I don't do that."

He nodded. "I understand if you don't but... " His voice trailed off. "I 
guess I don't have your sense of discipline in that." 

"I told you, I don't disapprove of it in others," she repeated her statement 
from the previous afternoon. "I just don't do it myself. It's not a matter of 
discipline, it's just who I am." She smiled warmly, to take any sting out of 
her words.

He chuckled to himself a bit as he sat in a chair at the head of the table.

"Is it funny?" Miri asked, passing the toast.

"No... I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at that. I was just thinking about 
something Siobhan said before."

"Oh?" She tilted her head, curiously. "What did she say?"

"Just that strange things seem to happen when you are around." He smiled at 
her. "And that you seem so serious most of the time. I guess both of those 
things are true." He smiled warmly at her, as he shared with her that he wasn't 
judging her, either.

"Strange, how?" Miriam's eyes glinted mischievously, proving she wasn't 
serious all the time, as she reached for her glass of orange juice and it 
obligingly moved up off the table to meet her hand.

He lifted a brow slightly as he saw the glass jump off the table and into her 
hand. "I guess like that. Or your music, for example. That was what she had 
mentioned anyway." He smiled at her. 

"I don't mind being strange," she said, oddly serious again. "But I am 
hungry." She helped herself to scrambled eggs and bacon, passing the serving 
dishes 
to him.

He took the dish from her gently, and served himself a giant portion of eggs 
and bacon. He took a few forkfuls of the sausages as well. He looked over to 
her as he started to eat what was on his plate.

She watched him as they ate, concerned that he would stuff himself in his 
worry about wasting food. She was no Healer, to adjust his body's processes, 
nor 
even a Sensitive to tell when he was overdoing. But she did let a soft flow of 
music trace its way around the two of them, rising and falling gently in the 
background.

He ate slowly. Almost pacing himself. "It's good." He smiled. "How did you 
learn to cook like this?"

"Oh..." She shrugged. "Most of the girls and a lot of the boys, too, learn to 
cook where I come from. We're farmers, though we do use modern methods, so 
there's always fresh food. Though," she added, to be fair, "lots of my People 
do 
go into the sciences rather than farming. With the modern machinery, it 
doesn't take so much manpower ... or woman power," she chuckled.

He smiled. "I lived on a farm, too." He looked around again. "But I don't 
ever remember eating like this." 

"Not even for special days?" Miri asked, surprised.

He shook his head as he finished off the heaping plate. He was starting to 
feel a little full but he took another helping of eggs. There still looked to 
be 
about a half of a plate full sitting there. "No. We never really had special 
days. It was a small farm. Harvest week was important ... so was planting 
week, and we would always help some of the other farmers out at those times." 
He 
paused a moment remembering fondly.  "And we would eat together. Mom would make 
extra but ... it was usually just a normal meal ... nothing elaborate like 
this." He indicated the table.  He was eating slower with this plate of food.

"Oh, if I really wanted to make special I'd've made waffles or pancakes," 
said Miriam with a quick grin. But she was worried about him eating so much. 
She'd had some eggs, bacon, a link of sausage, and she was still nibbling on 
her 
toast. He was eating like he wasn't really hungry, now, but still wanted to 
savor the taste.

He had noticed that she wasn't really eating anything else. He put a few more 
forkfuls into his mouth and forced them down his throat. He laughed 
nervously. "Sorry." He said as he shifted uncomfortably. 

"Are you all right?" The question was quiet, but carried a great deal of 
concern on the nonverbal level.

He had overeaten and was very uncomfortable. He halfway felt like he was 
going to be sick at any moment. He was looking at her though even though his 
mind 
was still on the way he felt. "I think I ate too much," he answered, more than 
a little embarrassed.  "I should know better than to eat that way." He looked 
at the table. "But there was so much food." He still had a bit of a longing 
look on his face as he looked at it. 

"I told you," Miriam said gently, "it gets recycled. And there's always more, 
the next time you're hungry. The bathroom is in there," she pointed, in case 
he really was going to be sick.

He seemed so young, in so many ways. Younger than herself, although surely as 
a graduate of medical school he had to be at least two or three years older. 
She couldn't help thinking that he needed looking after. Maybe it was one of 
those 'guy things.'

He didn't want to be sick. He swallowed hard and forced himself to try and 
block out the uncomfortable feeling he had in his stomach. "I'll be all right. 
Maybe if we got up from the table," he suggested. 

Miri whisked the dishes to the recycler, some by hand and some seemingly 
under their own power. She kept her coffee mug, to finish the second cup.

He shook his head as the food disappeared into the recycler. He couldn't 
watch any more, so he turned around and looked out one of the windows that 
showed 
the valley and the mountains behind it. "This is Earth, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it's Earth," said Miri, opening the back door and stepping out onto the 
porch with a gesture for him to follow. "It's the area where I grew up. This 
is our summer cabin. Actually the ranger's summer cabin, but most of the 
families took turns at ranger duty so we'd stay here for a week or two at a 
time, 
some time between spring and when the winter rains came."

He took in the view. It was beautiful. He really felt uncomfortable. "I'm 
sorry. I really should have been more careful." He placed a hand on his stomach 
hoping that would help settle it some more. But he had a feeling that the only 
thing that would do so was to sit back down someplace.  He started to look 
around for a place to sit. 

There was a bench on the porch, a wide comfortable sort of bench made for 
lounging. Miriam sat down and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Well, 
relax for a bit and see if things settle. If not ... you know where the 
bathroom 
is." She could feel his discomfort, a little, mostly on the mental level. She 
didn't much want to touch his hand right now, though, because she'd feel it all 
if she did.

He sat next to her. He knew he was broadcasting how uncomfortable he was. It 
was hard not to. "It's been a long time since I have seen that much food at 
one time," he said after a few minutes. He was embarrassed he just looked out 
over the valley that stretched out below them. 

"I'm sorry," Miri said softly. "I didn't mean to make things difficult for 
you." She wanted to make him feel better but didn't know how.

He smiled slightly. His white teeth glinting in the sunlight of the scene. 
"I'm a doctor. I know better than to do that..." His voice trailed off. "It 
wasn't you, really. I just didn't want to ... you went to so much trouble..." 

She turned to face him, drawing her knees up so her feet were on the bench 
and her arms wrapped around her legs. "It's okay," she murmured. "At home we'd 
put leftovers in the cooler for later. Here we recycle them. Nothing gets 
wasted. Unless, of course," she added, "you get sick...then it's a waste." But 
she 
grinned to take the sting out of her words.

He smiled a crooked smile. "I used to overeat like this all the time. A 
couple of different times actually." His voice was a little distant as he 
remembered. "I hated it. I still do."

"Why?" Miri asked, without specifying which why she meant.

"I was on my own for three winters," he explained. "Two years, before my 
parents found me. I had to scrounge and scavenge for food. The entire time." He 
swallowed hard, feeling the pain again, as he remembered.

She nodded, just listening. Being there for him. Projecting her receptivity. 
And, wonder of wonders, controlling the unusually uncontrollable music.

He looked over to her a moment before he went on. "It was hard. The winters 
there were long and cold. It started to snow almost as soon as the farmers 
could get the crops out of the ground. Sometimes they wouldn't get done in 
time. I 
would stay near those farms for a few days. Until they could get finished or 
the snow would completely bury what they couldn't get out of the ground in 
time."

He paused again. "It's strange. I haven't thought about that first winter in 
a long time."

Now her hand did creep into his, and a low, soothing tendril of music drifted 
slowly around the porch. Miriam didn't have to say she was sorry about his 
suffering; she felt it with him and poured warmth and caring from her heart to 
his, to soothe away the pain.

He felt her hand enter his slowly. The music was back again, too. It helped a 
little, but he wanted to keep explaining. "I told Mom and Dad about it after 
a while, but... They just wanted to know how I had survived so long on my own. 
They didn't really ask about how it felt or anything."  He looked at her. 
"Have you ever been so hungry that you feel like your stomach might just 
collapse 
on itself because its so empty?" he asked. "That's what it was like that 
first winter. It was usually days between times that I was able to find food." 

Miri shook her head slowly. She had never been deprived. But she could feel 
it from him, the despair as well as the physical ache and the gnawing hunger. 
Her music, still whisper-soft, picked up the pain and slid mournfully through a 
minor theme.  

"I would see a Snow Buck every once in a while. See him scratching in afield 
to find something to eat. I would try to scare him off and steal what I could 
from where he had scratched to the soil beneath the snow. It wasn't much 
but... " He paused again. "A few times... I couldn't scare him off. He would 
turn 
and try to charge me. I would run but the snow was deep. Thankfully he wasn't 
able to get to me because of the snow.  And the cold. I swear there were days 
that it wouldn't get above minus 17 C." He nearly shivered with the memory.

Miriam tightened her hand on his, shivering with him.

He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm babbling. You don't want to hear about 
this." 

"I want to hear whatever you want to talk about," said Miri, softly. "I'm not 
a counselor, but I hope I'm a friend." Or more than a friend ... maybe ... 
someday...

He looked at her. "Are you sure? I mean, I can tell that it's bothering you 
to hear this. I can feel it." 

"It bothers me because I want my friends to be comfortable and happy," Miri 
explained. "But I hope that by telling me, you can maybe let go of some of it 
so it won't keep hurting you..."

He nodded slightly and smiled that same crooked smile he did before.  "It 
helps some. I just wanted to explain why I was such a pig before. Idid the same 
thing after Mom and Dad found me. And then again when I started at the Academy. 
It was right after I left the camp."  He shuddered with the memories that 
mentioning the camp evoked.

Again, she squeezed his hand gently. "Tell me," she murmured.

"It was a refugee camp. Overcrowded, gang infested, no real supervision by 
those that were charged with protecting the people that lived there." He 
shuddered again and felt his stomach tighten up. "It was hard. Not like that 
first 
winter I was on my own, but it was hard. Not enough food and Mom was pregnant. 
Everything I could scrounge, I gave to her."

Almost unconsciously, Miriam moved closer to him. Leaning against him a 
little, radiating caring and reassurance.

He could feel her leaning against him, and strangely he could feel his 
stomach starting to relax some. Maybe talking about this was helping him more 
than 
he realized. "There was so little food ... and the Nikaari were after me to 
join them. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. But the only place that had anything 
that 
grew that was edible was in Nikaari."  His voice lowered.

~~They hurt you.~~ She didn't realize she had stopped speaking aloud until 
after she spoke underneath.

He was fighting back the tears. He couldn't look at her. He just nodded.

Miri put her arms around him and drew his head down to her shoulder.  ~~It's 
okay,~~ she told him. ~~You're safe here. It's okay to let itout.~~

He sobbed quietly there on her shoulder. It was really the first time he had 
felt the memory this deeply. He had shared it before. Several different times 
really. But it had never reduced him to tears like this before. Not even at 
the hearing in the camp.

Rubbing his back gently as he cried, Miriam wondered what she had gotten 
into. It would be so easy to let this vulnerable young man become the love of 
her 
life. They meshed so well, so easily. But he was very young for his age, and 
obviously still learning what he wanted out of life and out of a relationship. 
Her heart wanted to cling to him, to do anything at all to be with him. But 
her head said that she had tol et him go, let him explore the possibilities ... 
and see if he would come back to her.

He pulled back suddenly and wiped his eyes. "I don't want you to feel sorry 
for me. I don't need anyone's pity." There was a hint of resentment in his 
voice that he quickly apologized for. "I'm sorry.  I didn't meant that the way 
it 
sounded. It's just -- the guards at the camp. Even Mom and Dad ...they felt 
sorry for me. I can tell when they talk about it. Less so with them but the 
guards..." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "All they had to offer me was pity. 
I 
didn't want it then. And I don't want it now."

Oh, my love ... she thought, but kept the thought to herself. "I don't pity 
you, El," she said softly. "I share your pain, and I admire your courage. And I 
want you to be able to heal," she added. "I want to help you heal, in any way 
I can, because I can see the strength under your pain."

He looked at her, unsure of what he had felt from her. "I'm sorry.  I..."  
His voice trailed off again. It was then he realized, "I do feel better now." 
He 
smiled a little and took away his other hand that had been on his stomach 
since he sat down. 

Music trilled for him, brightly and cheerfully. Miriam smiled back, if a bit 
more tenderly than she had intended. "Quit apologizing," shesaid. "I'm the one 
that seems to have made a botch of our breakfast date." And she laughed a 
little.

He looked at her warmly. "No ... you didn't do anything. I told you that I 
know better than to try to eat like that. Besides, you had no way of knowing I 
would try to eat it all myself."

"I..." She didn't know what she was going to say, but she took his hand 
again, wide open to him, and simply let the communication flow between them. 
Perhaps it wasn't the brightest idea, but the contact was irresistible.

He squeezed her hand in return. "You ... what?" he asked, somehow sensing 
that she wanted to remain talking this way.

~~I could get lost like this.~~ She blushed, and although her hair was 
braided back today, the braid started to lift and twist before she forced it to 
behave. Her mind twined into his, like wisps of fog sifting through his 
thoughts 
... not blending, nor reading him, but drifting into almost becoming a part of 
him.

He could feel her in his mind and he reached out as well. Not exploring so 
much as learning about her more and more. Again, it felt very intimate to him. 
He felt himself moving forward. Closer and closer toher.

Miriam's eyes were closed as she basked in the sense of oneness. It was like 
nothing else she'd ever experienced. Was this what two-ing was allabout? If 
so, she could understand why young people her age were so eager to pair off. 
But 
at the same time, it was almost a little frightening, to be so close. And 
yet, frightening or not, it was too precious to pull away from.

He kept moving closer to her; gently taking her hand in his, he leaned still 
closer. All seemed to be moving in slow motion. Finally he was just inches 
from her. He could feel her breathing, but he went forward again. And from 
there 
it didn't take long for his lips to gently findhers and kiss them.

Her eyes opened slowly to gaze unfocused into his as she tentatively returned 
the kiss. Her heart threatened to burst with tenderness, and the hand he 
wasn't holding came up to cup the side of his face. After afew heart-stopping 
moments, Miri drew her face back and smiled. He was so sweet. She could easily 
see 
how the girls found him irresistibly attractive.

He smiled at her once the kiss was over, and leaned into her hand slightly.

"You're such a charmer." She had to tease a little, because if she didn't, 
she'd be kissing him again.

He smiled and blushed a little. "Me?" he asked. "You're the one playing the 
music and everything." He tried to tease back.

Miriam just nodded, her eyes wide and serious.  "I can understand why Siobhan 
wants you so badly," she said.

"But you don't?" El asked.  He watched her closely because it seemed to him 
that she really did.

She couldn't lie.  "It's not that I don't want you," she admitted.  "It's 
that I do want a permanent relationship, and I won't settle for fooling 
around." 
She had his right hand in both of hers now, and squeezed gently.  "We mesh 
together beautifully, El ... but you're not ready for the kind of relationship 
I 
need, and I won't ask you to try it.  You need to get all that ... romping ... 
out of your system."  She smiled, warmly and tenderly.  "But I'll be your 
friend -- I'll always be your friend."

He wasn't sure he understood completely, but he nodded, then impulsively put 
his arms around her and gave her a hug, thankful to have a friend.

Other related posts: