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winterverses · 5 years

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Walking Wounded - Chapter Seventy - Three

It would have been a bad idea to take the bike when they planned on drinking, so they’d taken an aircar to the restaurant they’d planned to start their night off at, walking through the door just as the clock ticked over to the time of their reservation. Anne’s eyes brightened when she saw the elegant lady near the doors, who was speaking to what looked to be one of the servers. “Dobryj vyechyer, Mamulya,” Anne said as they walked toward her.

The woman looked over at them, a frown creasing her brow at first, then her green eyes widening as she recognized Anne. “Goodness, Mishka, what have you done to your hair? Is this some sort of fashion thing? It never used to be that bad.” She had no accent that Kirk could discern, her words rapid and clipped but sounding as American as his, or as Anne’s. She walked briskly toward them, and Anne let go of his arm to take her arms and do that very French air-kiss on both cheeks.

“I’m afraid it’s real, Mamulya. I’d rather not talk about it, but if you really want to know, there’s an article coming out tomorrow in the Clarion.” Anne rested her hand back on Kirk’s arm, drawing the woman’s attention to him. “Jim, this is Regina Vasyutin, the owner’s mother. Regina, Captain James T. Kirk.”

Those green eyes widened again, looking him over appreciatively. “Well, it’s a good thing we gave you two one of the window tables. A handsome man like that will bring business our way.” She extended her hand toward him. “Call me Regina, darling.”

Not a single streak of grey in her dark hair though she had to be in her fifties at the very least, face that was fifteen years younger, body that was thirty years younger, dressed in classy designer clothing that fit her perfectly-- instead of shaking her hand, Kirk bowed over it, brushing his lips across the back. He knew this type. “Pleased to meet you, Regina.”

Regina fanned herself with her hand. Speaking in an aside to Anne, she said, “I was going to tell you that you should have married Maxim, but I’ve changed my mind. Marry this one. He’s polite, handsome, a hero-- what more could anyone want?” To Kirk, she said, “Unless you like older women. In which case, my husband will have been dead for two days in about three days’ time.”

That caught Kirk off-guard, leaving him biting back a laugh. “I sincerely doubt I could keep up with you, Regina, but if I ever feel like I have a chance, I’ll give you a call.”

Apparently satisfied by that, Regina led them to their table. The entire restaurant was extravagantly decorated, with carved chairs made of real wood, gilded designs on the walls and ceilings, embroidered and polished linen tablecloths, and more of those real candles flickering on every table, along with flower arrangements. It was sort of odd, as he’d always thought that French and Italian food were usually the ones that got this kind of fuss made over them-- Russian food didn’t usually qualify, as far as he knew. But it was one of the hardest restaurants to get into in all of Yorktown, and Anne’s taste was impeccable, so it had to be good.

After a little more chat and an affectionate kiss placed on Anne’s temple, Regina swept off to see to their dinner. Anne watched her go, mixed feelings clearly evident, at least to him, in those expressive eyes. “What’s up?” Kirk asked.

Anne shook her head, smiling wryly. “She doesn’t know anything about me, and she still treats me like a daughter. It’s just a little disconcerting. And tomorrow when that article comes out, I’m going to have to deal with her being upset over everything that’s happened.”

“You could just tell her to take her upset somewhere else,” Kirk said. “There’s no reason for her to lay that on you, even if she means well by it.”

Anne’s mouth twisted unhappily. “But would she still treat me like a daughter if I did?” Trying to shake off her mood, she smiled at him. “It’s all right. There’s no help for it anyway. Let’s just enjoy the evening. Maxim has probably been dithering all day about what he needs to show off first.”

“Trying to impress you?” Kirk asked, wondering just how over Anne this guy was.

Anne shook her head, laughing. “No. Trying to prove he’s the better cook. He is, he always has been, but when I worked here I showed him some tricks he didn't know and he’s never quite forgiven me for it. It’s mostly a joke.”

A furred, pawlike hand reached down then, placing two tall, frosty, clear drinks on the table, Kirk looked up to see a black-striped brown felinoid with pretty white smudges around her-- definitely her, he thought, judging by her graceful slightness-- eyes, wearing the apron that the other servers wore, a golden necklace, and nothing else. She didn’t need clothes; the fur covered everything relevant. Anne didn’t smile, but her eyes lit up. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” she said, obviously pleased.

“Iss only a short shift. Maxim wanted the besst tonight.” The voice sounded female, so he decided he'd been right. He hadn’t known about the Sivaoan community on Yorktown until Anne had mentioned it, but he was glad to see that they were adapting to their sudden entry into the technological and political landscape of the galaxy.

Anne broke into a smile, but was careful to keep her mouth closed. Bared teeth were not a friendly sign in Sivaoan culture. “Leapstar, I’d like you to meet Captain James T. Kirk. Jim, this is Leapstar to-Yorktown. Leapstar and I used to work together here.”

Holding his hands parallel to the ground, Kirk flexed his fingers, curving them into claws, then relaxed them, imitating sheathed claws. “Good to meet you, Leapstar,” he said, glad he remembered the etiquette.

Leapstar likewise showed and then sheathed her claws. “James Tiberius Kirk to-Enterprise,” she said, surprising him. “I know you. You have never met me, but you have ssaved my life twice. Once here on Yorktown, and once from AyDeeEff.”

“It’s not only Sivaoans here then? There are Eeiauoans too?” There had been tension between the two planets. The Eeiauoans had originally come from Sivao, but had been banished from the planet because of cultural friction caused by a plague. He’d played a role in reintroducing the two cultures to each other a couple of years ago while trying to find a cure for an incredibly infectious disease called ADF Syndrome that had been spreading through Federation systems like wildfire. It was a pleasant surprise to see the two cultures reuniting peacefully.

“Yess. Our differences become small when faced with the many other races in the galaxy.” Leapstar’s tail looped in amusement. “Only wanted to thank you. I live twice because of you.”

“And she lives twice as hard,” Anne said impishly, her silvery eyes dancing with suppressed humor. “One of the only Eeiauoans I’ve ever seen who’s gotten over the alcohol aversion. She can drink me under the table.” Leapstar’s tail flicked and then wrapped around Anne’s wrist.

Kirk had to admit he was impressed. With their sensitive noses, most Sivaoan or Eeiauoan felinoids couldn’t stand to be around alcohol. “That takes some dedication,” he said, taking his drink and toasting her.

Leapstar’s tail squeezed Anne’s wrist. “I musst go. I will bring your hors d’oeuvres. Maxim has your menu planned; you do not need to order unlesss you wish something different.”

Kirk held up his hands. “I leave these things to the experts.”

“We’re fine with whatever Maxim makes,” Anne said. She stroked the tip of Leapstar’s tail once before it unwound and the lithe felinoid disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

“Do you know everyone here?” Kirk asked when Leapstar was gone.

“Some of the waitstaff has changed. Mostly I knew the back of house staff; I worked here when I was between books.” Faint guilt crossed her face. “They were under the impression that I was just a wanderer with a small inheritance, enough to travel and live off, but not enough that I didn’t have to work.”

“Didn’t the plush apartment ever give you away?” Kirk teased, hoping for a smile.

His hopes were rewarded; her eyes lightened and her dimple almost showed. “Oh, come on. I never got anything like that just for myself. Mostly whatever the smallest place was that had a kitchen and a balcony or a terrace. I’ve lived in some very odd places because of those requirements.” The humor was temporary; after a moment, the guilt crept back in, accompanied by worry. “I hope they’re not too mad when they read the article,” she said, her eyes darkening to the heavy grey of a sky that was about to rain.

Now that was just all out of perspective. “I think they’re going to be more concerned about you than anything else. No one’s going to get mad at you for not telling them every detail of your life when there are much bigger and more current issues to address.”

Anne shook her head. “I know that’s true. I just wish I could believe it.”

He could understand. Childhood never really disappeared, and when it was a childhood where the smallest mistakes overshadowed everything else and became the reason for wildly disproportionate punishments, that ended up creeping into any relationship like some sort of fungus trying to rot away everything it touched. It was something he’d had to deal with in various ways, but at least in his friendships with his crew, it had been entirely erased by repeatedly risking their lives for each other. But he could still understand Anne, whose relationships were mostly transient, mostly distant, mostly kept at arm’s length despite the obvious affection people had for her. If he hadn’t ended up on the Enterprise, would he have become like her?

That kind of damage couldn’t be fixed tonight. And if it was a choice between spending the night fruitlessly trying to confront her old demons, or enjoying each other and the night as she’d intended, he knew what he’d pick. “Hey.”

“Hey what?” Anne asked, the grey of her eyes seeming to shift like mist in a light breeze.

“Put it down for now, gorgeous. Whatever happens, happens, and either way you’re going to be moving on once all this is over.” Whether with him, or on her own. With him, he hoped. They could work it out.

She looked down at her drink, fingering the cucumber rose that garnished the side, then looked up at him, smiling crookedly. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just a little on edge right now.”

Now that he could believe, with the interrogation looming over her. “Nothing to apologize for. Eat, drink, and be merry, right?” he said wryly.

That surprised a laugh from her. “How Epicurean. And absolutely correct.” She sipped her drink, watching him over the rim.

Leapstar appeared again then, setting down an assortment of little finger foods, blinis with caviar, pickles and cured fish and bites of bread with some sort of thinly sliced meat, tiny kebabs that Anne said were called shashlik, and some sort of meat jelly thing that Kirk could swear he had stunned with a phaser once. Surprisingly, it was absolutely delicious, as was everything else on the table. He and Anne picked at the assortment until the last bite was gone, appetites whetted for the meal. Somehow, like magic, new drinks discreetly appeared whenever the old ones were finished, and plates that were empty disappeared the same way. It went on this way throughout the meal, the plates that made up the main course showing up just at the moment when their appetizers were finished. The most Leapstar did was murmur the names of the dishes-- botvinya, pelmeni, kurnik, all of them made with as much of an eye to presentation as taste. The result was really excellent, the soup cold and served with ice cubes, crayfish adorning the sides, the pelmeni artfully arranged, tender and savory, the kurnik pastry light and flaky and delicate, decorated with whorls and flower shapes, and the filling something like a really great pot pie. By the end of the meal, he was definitely in agreement with the rest of Yorktown-- this was a meal worth waiting for.

Before dessert came, a man that Kirk assumed was Maxim came to talk to them. He found himself evaluating Maxim, looking over the impeccably clean white apron, the large nose that looked as if it had been broken once or twice, the deep-set eyes. The man was handsome enough in spite of, or maybe because of, his flaws. As he set down the desserts, he said, “It’s good to see you again, Mishka.” He looked over to Kirk, nodding respectfully. “And we’re honored to have you here, Captain. I hope you’ve enjoyed your meal.”

“What is this shit you put in front of me, Max?” Anne said before Kirk could respond. He saw the glint of humor in her eyes, so he knew she wasn’t serious, but that seemed really out of order for such a great meal. And he knew she’d enjoyed it; she’d said so, a few times, over the course of the meal. “You’re getting lazy. I could have chipped a tooth on that pelmeni dough.”

To his surprise, Maxim played along. “True, it’s not as light as when you were in charge of it. Maybe I should have asked you back into the kitchen.”

“Are you kidding? I’m never setting foot in that hole again.” Anne sniffed.

In response, Maxim grabbed her arm and pulled her up out of her chair. Kirk saw her bracing, trying not to struggle away as he engulfed her in a bear hug, thumping her back. “I don’t know how I manage without your sharp tongue to prod me along.”

Anne relaxed enough to return the embrace in kind, but pulled away shortly. “You’re doing fine, Max. Although you’re still a shit. What kind of a nickname is Mouse?”

Maxim laughed, not seeming to notice that she was still tense. Kirk had to admit, he might not have realized she was shaken if he hadn’t known the signs so well. “So you finally got someone to tell you what it meant.”

“Yeah. One of the bridge crew on the Enterprise is Russian.” Anne leaned her hip against her chair.

“You could have just looked it up,” Maxim pointed out. “Still so stubborn.” He looked over to Kirk, grinning just a little. “She was aboard ship, was she? How much trouble did she cause, Captain?”

Kirk leaned back in his chair, pretending to think about it. “All things considered, very little compared to the normal course of events. Only one hull breach and a room full of medical equipment destroyed. Oh, and a few bodily injuries, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“That hull breach was not my fault, “ Anne said, turning her long nose up. “I was trying to stop it but your damn ship wouldn’t listen to me.”

Maxim’s eyebrows raised. “I’m glad I kicked you out of my kitchen before you graduated to bodily harm, Mishka.”

“You didn’t kick me out. I left when we broke up,” Anne said. “And your mother took it worse than you did, you asshole.”

Maxim shrugged. “She’s fine. She’s happy to have grandchildren now. Our first is seven months old. Second on the way.” He paused, then added, “You were invited to the wedding. Julia and I got married just before the baby came.”

Anne kept her eyes and voice calm. “I don’t want to talk about it, Max. It had nothing to do with you. There’s an article coming out in the Clarion tomorrow that will clear everything up. I know you don’t keep up with the news, but really, I’d think you’d have heard something about all that mess.”

“I’ve heard things,” Maxim said, his voice even and noncommittal. “I chose not to listen to them until I heard your side.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Read the article, and then contact me in a few days. I’ll clear up whatever questions you have then. Maybe.”

That seemed to be enough for Maxim; he looked to Kirk, cocking his head. “I was fortunate enough to meet your Russian officer today, Captain. A good choice. You’ll never find a more hardworking, dedicated man than a Russian. When he wants to be.”

“Mr. Chekov is a vital part of my crew. He’s personally saved my life more times than I can remember. Of course, he has a lot to live up to-- the rest of my crew is equally talented, and I’m proud to have all of them on my ship.” That sounded fair enough, if a little press-conference bland. It wasn’t that he wanted to downplay Chekov’s talents, but he also didn’t want to outright agree with Maxim. If that was childish, so be it.

Maxim frowned thoughtfully. “Well, when he comes in, I’ll get Mamulya to bring him over. I made space for him as well today. The least I could do for a fellow countryman and a hero.”

Kirk wondered why he wasn’t surprised, and why he felt just a tinge of resentment. “I’m flattered to know you’d go to such lengths to accommodate us.”

“It’s no trouble, not after what you and your crew have done for Yorktown. And whatever Mishka wants, she gets.” Maxim grinned broadly. “Enjoy your dessert. And give my regards to your crew. I’ll try to fit them in whenever I can, should they want to sample our efforts.”

Well, at least the man was generous. “I’ll pass along the message. Thank you for an excellent meal. I’ve enjoyed it very much.”

Maxim bowed slightly, then went off between the tables, towards the back, his broad body somehow inconveniencing no one with his passing.

Anne sat back down in her chair, looking over at Kirk. “After this, we’ll go somewhere that doesn’t employ anyone I know.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Was that true? He definitely hadn’t liked the way Maxim hadn’t noticed that Anne didn’t want to be touched. It seemed like anyone who was close enough to take that sort of liberty should also be close enough to know when it wasn’t welcome. Other than that… “He’s an interesting guy.”

“You don’t like him, you mean,” Anne said. Sometimes she was too damn perceptive. “I’m not really surprised; you’re both used to being in charge, and it shows. I liked him a lot, but he and I broke it off because he’s a family man. I’m not that kind of girl.” Anne shrugged, and then smiled at him, her eyes shining. “Besides, he never made me crazy like you do.”

Now that was a sentiment he could definitely understand. Being with Carol had been the same. “Yeah, I think we’ve got that one covered in both directions.” Kirk felt himself relax.

The dessert was, again, fantastic. Anne told him it was an elaborate take on something called Bird’s Milk Cake, explaining that bird’s milk was a euphemism for something vanishingly rare. The cake itself was springy, creamy, with just enough sweetness that the dark chocolate icing was a nice bitter complement. After they were finished and it came time to leave, Anne beckoned Leapstar over, who then refused to give them a bill. “On the housse. For Mishka and James Tiberius Kirk to-Enterprise, to ask for payment would be an inssult.” She would not discuss it further, despite Anne’s annoyance.

As they got up to leave, Kirk saw Chekov sitting in the waiting area, talking to one of the ensigns from Communications. Natalia looked vaguely like a sea creature, with a spiraling lobe at the back of her head and a trilling, watery voice. “Pavel, Natalia,” he said, and Chekov looked up, surprised.

“Keptain! I did not expect to see you here,” he said.

“We’re off duty, Pavel. You can call me Jim.” Kirk glanced back at Anne, who was deep in conversation with Regina, and looked to be chewing her out for not allowing them to pay. “Definitely some good food. Anne got us in; she used to work here.”

Chekov looked over in the direction Kirk had, and must have seen those ridiculously tight leather pants, because he almost blushed. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, K- Jim. If only because thet means I vill enjoy myself. Do you hev any plans for the evening?”

“Anne wants to go dancing.” He looked over at Natalia. She was dressed in a slinky little outfit that said she and Chekov had the same sort of plans. “Looks like you were thinking about it too.”

She laughed, hiding her smile behind her hand. “Yes, Captain. We were going to go out to the bars.”

Chekov grinned a little. “Perheps ve vill see you around.”

“Why not?” Kirk told him the entertainment district they were planning to visit. “No guarantees, but if you happen to be around there, keep an eye out for us.”

“Ve vill,” Chekov said.

Anne and Regina walked towards them, Regina’s arm threaded through Anne’s, and her head bent near Anne’s ear, talking softly. As they stopped near Kirk, Regina pulled her arm from Anne’s and did that French air-kiss thing again. “Now, Mishka, if you need anything, you must call us. Anything at all.”

Anne smiled and made a half-step towards Kirk, resting her hand on his arm. “I’m fine, Mamulya.” Noticing Chekov, she said, “But please, treat my friends nicely. Pavel was just lovely to me while I was aboard ship.”

Regina glanced over, smiling widely. “To have you visit, and then your friends as well? Delightful. Do follow me, Pavel. I’ll show you to your table.” She kissed Anne’s cheek once more while Chekov stood, throwing Kirk a playfully sultry look. “Enjoy your night, darlings,” she said, then focused on Chekov. “Come with me. You’re getting some of the best seats in the house…”

Anne pressed up against his side. “Let’s go, cher. Work some of this off before we work the rest of it off at home.” She smiled up at him, her eyes luminous.

“Sounds good to me,” Kirk said, and walked her out the door.

#Jim Kirk/OC #James T. Kirk/OC #fanfic #star trek fanfiction #dark romance #star trek #Star Trek: Walking Wounded #ST:WW

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