A Past Never Forgotten

Posted on Thu Aug 13th, 2015 @ 11:25pm by Captain Brenda Sinclair
Edited on on Thu Aug 13th, 2015 @ 11:29pm

Mission: Commanding the Elements
Location: Mess Hall

ON

The Mess was fairly quiet. While Marine Country had it's own dedicated mess hall, Brenda sometimes enjoyed escaping, to see how the other side of the servce lived - the Fleeters. A division between the two wasn't entirely accuraste, but a friendly rivalry had sprung up over time, into something that was jovial, yet sincere at times.

Sitting at the bar, she swirled the neon coloured drink around the glass, watched as the liquids flowed together, creating an effect that was hard to look away from.

That was when it hit her,

"Hey, Bree."

Those two words dropped into her stomach like a photon bomb. Only one person in the world had ever called her Bree. Only one man had ever spoken in that tone of deep, rich warmth, like vodka made into sound.

Rising from the seat, she turned. Sure enough, there he was. A face angular, and sharp. Lines and edges. His dark hair was cut short, brushed back at the temples. He was older than she remembered. How long had they last seen each other? Her mind slid back, trying to remember. And remember she did.

Pain, heart-break. The memories of the tears falling to her cheek still fresh. Without thought, or decision, Brendamoved.

The snap was sharp enough to cut through the air, a noise that carried, silencing the room. Her hand had struck his cheek with enough force to torque his neck.

For a half-second, a thought flitted through her mind. The snap had been more than her strike making contact. The way his head snapped to the side, she wondered if the sound had been something much worse.

Those fears were cast aside when he didn't fall. Carefully, cautiously, Alexander Greyson tested his jaw, and was surprised to find it still worked - and was still attached. She had one hell of an arm. "Was it something I said?"

Brenda's eyes flashed with a fiery temper. A rage born of blood and training. She held within her the fury of the Scots, a capacity to unleash a devastating torrent of anger. That had been honed, sharpened, and channeled by the Corps. Her temper was now more deadly than any weapon she could hold. "'I'll meet you in the Rose Garden'." She quoted the last words he had spoken to her. The words that had sealed her hope, and crushed it in one sentence.

"Ah... that." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable by the attention they were getting. While the room was hardly crowded, every pair of eyes was on them, some curious, others concerned. "I don't suppose an apology would suffice?"

Brenda crossed her arms as she leaned back against the bar, watching him cooly. He was still the same Alex she remembered. Controlled, confident, and at ease all at the same time. "Not unless you want to drag your ass to Sickbay after."

"Then an explanation would be in order." He stepped up to the bar next to her, resting his elbows on the counter top, trying to find a way to explain, to try and make her understand. "Father found me, when I was attempting to leave that evening. I had hoped to slip away unnoticed, to be able to avoid any unfortunate entanglements. As it was, luck was not on my side. He discovered my attempted escape, and knew immediately where I was going, whom I was meeting. It was... not pleasant."

Brenda felt a cold shiver run over her skin and down her back. Donald Greyson was not known for his restraint. A flash of shame ran through her, as she wondered just what the slap might have done for his memories. Certainly nothing good. "I cried."

Her voice changed ever so subtlely as she spoke. She had always carried the lilt of her home, but this was... more elegant, the voice she had been taught how to use, trained, coached. This was the Lady she had been in her youth, the Lady she was destined to become. "I cried that entire night when you didn't show."

She waved the bartender over and two drinks were placed before them. "Mama suspected, though I never confirmed. She was... quietly thrilled." Her words bit off, the anger flaring up again for that one moment. "Not at my pain, though. At the end of... us." She nodded to him, and hitched her voice, affecting the air of superiority her mother always had. "'No Sinclair shall ever entwine with a Greyson,' Or so she always said."

Alex looked up at that, his mouth quirking into a smile. "Entwine? Your mother has her moments. Not many, but she has them."

Resting her hand on his, Brendaleaned in , but changed her mind at the last moment, just pulling back far enough to avoid contact. "It's good to see you, Alex." Her mind was swimming. She had no idea how she felt, what she wanted, or what to do, she had to get out there. Get out, and sort out the mess that had become her nicely, ordered world.

With an akward pat on his hand, she left, heading for the door at a rapid, yet even pace.

Watching the woman he had loved leave, Alexkept his eyes on the doors, even as they closed behind her, waiting for nearly a full minute. When it was clear she wasn't coming back, he sighed. The almost-kiss. What in the world was that about? He shook his head and picked up his drink. "Could have been worse, though." He muttered to himself with a wry smile.

OFF