Part two Tim found a bench outside the restaurant and settled in to wait. He was ten minutes early. He let his thoughts wander while he waited. He didn't even notice Piccolo lurking nearby. Tina Randolf. Tizzy Tina Randolf. Tizzy Tina. It couldn't be, but somehow it was, and somehow, after almost ten years, they were together again. The two most picked on kids in Oakmont Elementary School, and the two most snubbed teenagers in Lansing Middle School. Their names preceded them. "Skinny Timmy" or "Stick Thin Tim," for the smallest kid in class, and "Tizzy Tina" for the tallest, gangliest girl who once tried to stand up to the playground bullies, and failed. They were misfits together. Part of the smartest and brightest. The King and Queen of the Geek Set. Ranked high among the "sweet," the "funny," and the "nice." Tim hated the word "nice." He was not "nice." He was anything but "nice." With his talent for languages, and overzealous parents, he knew "nice" came from the Old French word "nisce" meaning stupid or foolish, coming from the Old Latin word "nescius" meaning "ignorant." If there was one thing Tim O'Neill was not, it was ignorant or stupid. Though sometimes he could make a case for foolish... "What can you possibly be thinking about?" A voice broke into his thoughts. Tim looked up quickly, embarrassed. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't seen or heard Tina approach. He scrambled to his feet. "Uh, nothing, really." "With a scowl like that, it had to be pretty bad," Tina admonished gently. She held both hands out to him. He took them automatically. She pulled him in to brush his cheek with her lips. "You hungry?" "Starved." "Good, I hear this place is great." Piccolo watched in astonishment as Tina led the way inside. It was the girl in the photograph. He was sure. "How can you be sure?" Ortiz asked, not believing he was spying on his best friend through a restaurant's potted plants. It was too hokey, and just Piccolo's style. "I'm telling you, that's Tina Randolf, the hottest babe on the InterNex. She makes Cindy Margolis look like Cindy Lauper." "Who?" Ortiz demanded. "What are you two doing?" An all too familiar voice demanded from behind them. Ortiz and Piccolo turned slowly and guiltily, like children caught doing something wrong. Which, of course, they were. Commander Jonathan Ford stood there, arms crossed, tapping his foot. "Well, I'm waiting." He wasn't the only one. Standing a short distance away, trying to be inconspicuous in a short, flower print dress, was Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson. "It's Lieutenant O'Neill, sir," Piccolo began. "He's been acting strange..." "So you took it upon yourself to spy on him," Ford finished. "You should see who he's with." "It's none of our business, now come on out of there," Ford said pulling Ortiz and Piccolo out of the way. He got a good look at the table. "Wow! She's gorgeous!" "Tell us about it, Commander," Ortiz mumbled. "Well, then," Ford went on. "Now that you've ogled O'Neill's date, why don't you get going?" "Ah, Commander," Piccolo whined. "Good night, Tony." Tim couldn't believe he was sitting here. Couldn't believe Tina had grown up to be... words failed. Gorgeous didn't even come close. He also couldn't believe he was doing most of the talking. He really wanted to know about her, but she kept asking leading questions, drawing him out. And God help him, he let her. Suddenly, she reached out to him and all but whispered, "Do you know those people over there? They seem awfully interested in us." Tim looked where she indicated. He groaned. She chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. You want to invite them over?" "Do we have to?" "If we don't, then I think little guy is going to spontaneously combust. Go ahead, it's all right. Or better yet a compromise; let's go for a walk. I need the exercise, and we can say hi on the way out." "They're on the way out, all right," Tim muttered. He left enough money on the table to cover the check, and probably some dental work for the server, and they left. "Good evening, Commander. Lonnie," Tim greeted pleasantly. He barely gave Ortiz and Piccolo his best withering glance. "Miguel. Tony." "Sorry if we disturbed your dinner, Lieutenant. Ma'am," Ford apologized. "It's all right," Tina answered. "We were finished anyway. And since Tim seems reluctant to do the introductions, I'm Tina Randolf." She held out her hand to shake with Ford and Lonnie. Tim glared at Ortiz and Piccolo, who were whispering excitedly to one another. "Do you two mind?" Tim demanded. "Tina, these are my friends from the seaQuest, Commander Ford..." "Jonathan," Ford supplied. "Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson." "A pleasure." "And these jokers are Miguel Ortiz and Tony Piccolo." Before Ortiz could answer, Piccolo jumped forward, "Miss Randolf, it's such a pleasure to meet you. I am a huge fan!" Tim looked puzzled. Tina smiled at him. "It's nice to meet you all, but we're running late. Bye." Tim let her lead him out of the restaurant. He wasn't sure why she'd just run him out, but he didn't mind. Not until some guy in an ill fitting, plaid sport coat and clashing pants, jumped out of the bushes and started taking pictures. Tim moved immediately to shield Tina from the crass invasion of privacy. He tried to block the photographer. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Just keep going," Tina urged quietly. " They never follow very far. Whatever you do, don't stop. And just ignore him." "What is going on, Tina?" Tim hissed in her ear. "Later, I promise." Tim held his tongue and his curiosity until they'd found a secluded spot down on the beach. Tina ignored all convention and sat down on the sand. Tim settled down beside her. "Okay, do you want to tell me what's going on now? What do you do to warrant photographers in bushes? Who are you?" "I am Tina Randolf," she answered. "I know your name, but who are you? Why all this?" Tim repeated. "You really don't know," Tina breathed, eyes wide. "Do you?" "I wouldn't be asking if I did," Tim replied. "And I'd rather hear it from you. You're not a hooker or anything, are you?" Tina laughed her musical, delighted laugh. "No, Tim, I'm not a hooker. I'm a model. A very successful InterNex model. Some even say a supermodel." "So you're saying you're famous?" Tim asked. "And the photographer?" "I think he works for one of the bigger tabloids. I'm sorry, Tim. You're probably going to be on the cover of the next issue. I'm really sorry, Tim. Really. I just wanted to spend some time with someone who once knew me for who I was, not what I've become. I shouldn't have..." Tina started to get up. "I'll go now, if you want. I wouldn't blame you." Tim's arm snaked out almost on its own. It caught her hand before she could get far and pulled her back. Her feet slipped in the loose sand, and she fell back into Tim's lap. Suddenly, his deep brown eyes were staring deep into her hazel eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. In all the old movies, there was only one way for this situation to end. Tina closed her eyes; her lips parted slightly, sure he was going to kiss her. Nothing happened. After a moment, she opened her eyes - Tim was looking away. "What's wrong?" she asked. "This is going to sound crazy, but I...I can't." Tina sat back in surprise, staring at him. "Why?" Tim hesitated. He didn't want to hurt her. "Look, Tina, there is nothing more on this earth I'd rather do than kiss you." "Then why didn't you?" Tina asked. "Please? I really want to know." "Tina, you were one of my closest friends a long time ago, but I don't know Tina the supermodel. I like to get to know the people I kiss. I want to know you again before something happens we'll both end up regretting." Tina didn't answer. She studied him a moment, as if the very concept of what he was saying was foreign to her. A wide eyed, frightened look came over his face. "I...I did say that out loud and in English, didn't I? It sure sounded like English in my head." Tina laughed again. Tim relaxed a little. "So I did speak in English?" "Yes, Tim, you did. Though I would've understood you in French, Spanish, or German." Tim's eyebrows rose appreciatively. "You've been studying." "I'm nowhere near as fluent as you are, I'm sure, but spending as much time as I have in Europe, it comes in handy. And thank you." "For what?" "For being one of the last of the truly debonair gentlemen left on this planet." Tim whistled a happy tune for days after that evening. His relationship with Tina hadn't stopped there; they'd gotten together or talked every day since. They'd been together for almost two weeks now. It drove Piccolo crazy. Which made the communications officer's grin that much wider. Until Piccolo finally found a way to rain on his parade. Tim was having lunch with Brody and Lonnie when Piccolo dropped by their table. Something hit the table, and suddenly, they were all looking at a full color photo of Tim and Tina on the cover of one of the biggest tabloids in print. "Nice shot, man," Piccolo crowed. "I didn't know you were so photogenic. Now maybe I can get some details." "From that, Tony?" Lonnie snorted. "All tabloids do is distort what kernel of truth they might have and pad it with a bunch of lies. If you want to know, just ask Tim." "Aw, he won't tell me anything. I tried. He won't even get me an autograph," Piccolo whined. "And it's because of that attitude right there," Tim replied. Brody and Lonnie laughed at Piccolo's discomfort. Bridger came through the mess hall just then. He took a quick look around and made a beeline for their table. He barely acknowledged his other crew. He focused in on Tim. "Mr. O'Neill, wardroom. Now." Bridger gestured to the tabloid. "And bring that with you." Tim swallowed and looked at his friends. They didn't know what was happening. "Ye... Yes, sir." Bridger left, knowing Tim would be right behind him. The lieutenant paused only a moment before snatching up the tabloid and scrambling to his feet. "What did I do?" he asked helplessly. Lonnie and Brody shrugged. They were mystified. Tony had a response. "That's what I've been wanting to know!" Tim sighed and left. Bridger paced the wardroom, waiting for Tim to join him. The communications officer slipped in quietly. "Is something wrong, Captain?" Bridger took the tabloid from Tim, looked at it. He tossed it on the table. "Close the door." Tim did so and waited. Bridger took a deep breath. "You want to explain this?" "Sir?" "I've already gotten a call from several members of the UEO. They're concerned," Bridger told him. Tim was confused. He was almost sure the emotion and frustration coloring the captain's voice wasn't aimed at him, but a response was required. "Concerned about what, sir?" "They're concerned any time a UEO officer shows up in the press. Especially this kind of press. That it is this particular tabloid makes it worse." Bridger sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Who's the girl, Tim?" "She is Tina Randolf, Captain. I'm just a prop for that...that pseudojournalistic ambush. Tina was the primary target," Tim responded, letting a little emotion of his own color his response. Bridger raised an eyebrow. "And how did you become the prop to this...ambush?" Tim sighed. "Tina is an old friend from home, sir. I haven't seen her in years. She was at the club the night of my party. We had dinner to catch up." Bridger sighed once more. He didn't like what he was about to do, or that other people were making him do it. Tim looked at him suspiciously. "Why, Captain?" "I'm sorry, Mr. O'Neill, I was instructed to tell you to cease this relationship with Miss Randolf." Tim's eyes went wide. "Excuse me? I have to what?" "The UEO wants you to end your relationship with Tina Randolf," Bridger repeated emotionlessly. He braced himself for the inevitable outburst. His communications officer had a very long, very slow, fuse, but when he blew...well, Bridger would rather be at Ground Zero than where he was standing right now. The outburst never came, and that frightened the captain more than anything. Tim O'Neill went totally still. He could've been made of stone. Only two things moved. The muscle in his jaw and his fist as they clenched and unclenched in unison. "Mr. O'Neill? Tim...?" Tim never raised his voice. His voice was cold, almost dead, along with his eyes, as he looked at Bridger. "Excuse me, Captain, but who the hell does the UEO think they are to tell me whom I can or cannot have a relationship with? I don't see where it's any of their damn business whom I am seeing." Tim didn't apologize for his profanity when speaking to a superior officer. Bridger didn't bother to say anything. He was a little surprised Tim didn't go further with it. They were sailors after all, and Tim did have a far larger vocabulary than anyone on board. He could probably come up with something very creative. "Look, O'Neill, I sympathize..." Tim finally looked at Bridger. "Did the UEO ever tell you to stop seeing your wife?" "Well, no." "Get back to me when you have something better. In the meantime, you can tell the UEO to stick it. They don't own me, and if they persist in this ridiculous thinking, they can do it without me." "Lieutenant, don't do something you'll regret." "Captain, with all due respect, that ship's already sailed." Tim saw the captain about to say something. Tim stopped him. "No. No. Do not bring Mariah into this. I was not happy with my life then. I am happy now. I won't give up the best relationship of my life just because the UEO doesn't like it!" Tim turned on his heel and marched out of the wardroom. Bridger watched him go. Once he was gone, Bridger smiled. "Good for you, Tim. Good for you." Tim was in his quarters organizing his belongings for packing. His duffels were on his bunk, ready. He was going through a stack of books when there was a knock on the door. "Go away!" He called out. "No one's home!" "Come on, O'Neill, it's Lucas. Open the door. Somebody's here to see you." "Leave me alone, Lucas." Another voice replaced Lucas'. "Tim, honey, it's Tina. Let me in, please?" Tim bounded across the cabin and yanked open the door. Tina stood there looking worried. Lucas was grinning from ear to ear, like any teenaged boy in the presence of a truly beautiful woman. "Tina? How? Why?" Tim stuttered; stunned. "Do I have to stand out here?" Tina asked. "People are starting to look at me funny." "Huh? Yeah, sure. I...I mean, please, come in." Tim stepped out of the doorway. Tina came in. Lucas tried to follow, but Tim stopped him. "What have you done?" Lucas looked surprised. "Me? Nothing! Really no. I just found her in the Launch Bay. She was looking for you, I brought her here before Tony found her." "Thank you and good bye." Tim closed the door in Lucas' face. He turned slowly, half expecting her to be gone. She wasn't. Tina was prowling his tiny cabin. She was currently holding one of his copies of Don Quixote. She turned to him. "I've always loved this story," she told him. "Yeah, me too," Tim agreed. "How...why are you here?" "You look like you're packing," she said, fingering a duffel and avoiding his question. "Why?" "Yeah, well, I just told off my captain and the UEO. I don't think I'll be using this cabin much longer," Tim admitted, but he wouldn't be deterred. "You want to answer my question?" "Sometimes you can be such a bulldog," she teased, then grew serious. "I know about the blow up. Captain Bridger called me. He told me what happened." "Oh, he did, huh?" I guess he wanted to make sure I had a ride into town," Tim muttered. "Somehow, I don't think so, Tim. Captain Bridger seemed very ni...pleasant on the vidlink, and sincere. I was about to say 'nice', but I figure some things never change. You didn't like that word back in school, I doubt you like it now. But that's beside the point. I told the captain I would come talk to you." She stopped at the computer. There was a file open on it. "What's this?" Everything seemed to slow. Tim turned to see Tina reading his computer screen. He couldn't move fast enough to stop her. "Please, don't." "'He couldn't believe his utter good fortune. The most beautiful woman he had ever known had walked into his life and stuck around. He still couldn't believe he had anything he could offer her, but they still had a lot of work to do to find her missing family. So far they had only run up against stone walls, but they were getting closer. He'd been able to trace the clues...'" Tina stopped reading aloud and continued on silently, her lips barely moving as she read. Tim couldn't do anything but watch miserably. Finally she looked up. "Did you do this? Write this, I mean?" Tim nodded. He couldn't speak. "Can I read the whole thing when it's finished?" She asked. "It's really good. What is it? A novel?" "You're just saying that," Tim replied, trying to brush off her praise. "And yes, it's a novel in its raw form." "Cool. And I'm not just saying that. You should write. You were always better with words than pictures." Tim blushed and looked away. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, but I should probably get back to packing." "No, Tim, you shouldn't," Tina told him. "You're not going anywhere." "You know something I don't?" Tim asked. "I know your captain thinks very highly of you, or he wouldn't have tracked me down. We should talk about the tabloid, Tim." "What about it?" "You know, I still get a little claustrophobic in places like this. Comes from being shoved into too many lockers in school. I'm impressed you can do this. You saw more lockers than I did." "I fit better," Tim responded automatically. "You know I do battle claustrophobia. I never thought to trace it to that, though." "Lucky you. Do you suppose anyone would mind if you gave me a tour of the amazing boat?" "Actually, it probably would be better than having you just stay in my cabin." Tina watched him carefully while he showed her the wonders of seaQuest. She was properly awed by the wonders, but she was more impressed with Tim's passion as he pointed out details to her. He was so engrossed in his task, he didn't even see the indulgent looks, smiles, and even some whispers they were getting from the crew. She didn't bring it to his attention as they walked the decks, hand in hand. He was like a little boy at Christmas. They ended up at Tim's favorite place on the boat, the moon pool. Tim had saved it for last. It was one of the few places they could talk without being interrupted. Tina ran her hand through the water. "Do you think anyone would mind if I dangled my feet in the water?" "Not at all. You could even swim if you'd like. We have a locker of suits just over there." "No, I'm not that much of a swimmer," she said, kicking off her shoes. "This will be fine. Will you join me?" Tim helped Tina settle on the edge of the pool. He quickly shed shoes, socks, and rolled up his pants legs to the knees before joining her. "You finally ready to tell me why you really came?" He asked. "What about the tabloid?" Tina kicked a little in the water. Tim tried not to be distracted by her perfectly formed legs. "I'm sorry about the tabloid. It's become part of my life. I don't like it, but it's there. You know, like an annoying relative. But you're not used to it, and I had no idea it would affect you that much." "I don't mind..." Tim began. "Tim, you told off your captain and the UEO. You mind." Tim had a sinking feeling. "Tina, is this..." Before he could finish, they were interrupted by a spray of water and strangely aquatic laughter. Tina squealed in spite of herself as Darwin came to say hello. "Darwin!" Tim protested. "Tim bring friend. Darwin meet!" Tina looked around wildly for the source of the odd voice. "Tim?" Tim was looking at the dolphin. "Darwin, this is my friend, Tina. Tina, this is my friend, Darwin." "Hello, Tina." "The dolphin speaks?" Tina asked incredulously. "How?" "An invention of Lucas'." "Pretty lady." Tina grinned. "Thank you, Darwin. You're a very handsome dolphin, yourself." "Darwin knows!" Tim and Tina laughed. Darwin suddenly submerged then came back. "Tony here!" "No, Darwin, Tony's not here," Tim answered. "Maybe he'll come by later." "No. Tony under water." Tim sighed. He leaned over the lip of the moon pool. "Come on out, Tony, you're busted." Tony Piccolo emerged from the water, looking guilty. "Busted by a giant fish. I shoulda known." "What are you doing here, Tony?" "Hey, I was here first." "And stuck around eavesdropping. Go on. I think Darwin wants to play. Have fun. Darwin, make sure he doesn't come back while we're still here." "Darwin do!" The dolphin chased the man underwater and out of the moon pool. Tina watched incredulously. "That man went underwater! He was underwater the whole time!" "Yeah, Tony does that. I guess I just found one of his better hiding places." "How? He's human!" "Yes, but he has gills." At her strange look, he added. "It was an experiment. He volunteered. They apparently come in handy." "Oh. So what were we talking about? Oh, yeah, you telling off the UEO. You didn't have to do that, you know." "They were trying to dictate my personal life. My relationships. That's not right." Tim told her. "They wanted me to stop seeing you because of the tabloid." "You were going to give up your whole life because of this?" "My personal life is my own, Tina. The UEO doesn't dictate that." "Oh, Tim, I'm so sorry." "You keep saying that, why?" "Remember that first night on the beach, when you wouldn't kiss me? You wanted to get to know me better?" Tina asked, suddenly. "Sure." "We've been together a while now, and I'd really like you to kiss me now. Please." There was something in her eyes, much like he'd written about. This time there was no way Tim could, or would, refuse. The look went straight to his heart and made it twist. He gathered her into his arms. She was trembling. He kissed her gently, then looked at her. There were tears in her eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?" "Not right now, Tim." She kissed him this time. A long, hot, passionate kiss. His mind raced with questions and hormonal gibbering. His hands developed minds of their own as they traveled over what he could reach of her body without pitching them both into the moon pool. Tina's hands had gone on a charting mission of their own. How they'd gotten inside his uniform, he never knew, couldn't ask, and he never wanted them anywhere else. He understood what he had written so many days ago. Finally, the kiss ended. Mostly from lack of oxygen rather than lack of desire. "Oh, that was definitely worth the wait," she managed to gasp. "Whoever taught you to do that deserves a medal." "I think it was the company," Tim said huskily. "But why do I have the feeling we just started something we won't be able to finish?" "Because you're sensitive and insightful along with all your other sterling qualities." "You're about to give me some really bad news, aren't you?" Tina swung her legs out of the water and turned back to the deck. Tim followed. She wouldn't look at him. "Because you're sensitive and insightful...and right." Tim's heart sank further than he thought possible and shattered like expensive crystal. His world tilted off his axis. His brain froze. Tina knew exactly what he was feeling. She was going through the same thing. "Tell me," he croaked. "I'm being sent out of the country," Tina said miserably. "The fashion season is starting in Europe soon. I have engagements in Paris, Milan, Vienna, other places. They're even talking about a video of some sort. I'll be shooting on the Med. Then I'm booked on a UEO traveling tour, entertaining at various bases all over the world. I'm going to be gone for almost a year." "What? How can they do that to you?" "Most of this was being set up long before we fell into each other's lives again. I used to like it. I had no ties, no commitments, no roots. My family's gone now, Tim, I didn't have anyone to come home to, so I didn't have a home." The tears, which threatened during their kiss, began rolling down her cheeks. Tim took her in his arms and tucked her head against his shoulder, resting his chin on her silken hair. He never wanted to let her go, but knew in his heart that he would have to. "That's why you didn't want me to worry about the tabloid and the UEO," he finally said. "You knew you were leaving, and their 'concerns' wouldn't matter." Tina nodded against his chest. "I don't know when I can see you again. That's one reason Captain Bridger allowed me to come aboard to talk to you." "I won't end this relationship," Tim persisted. "Tim, be reasonable!" Tina cried. "How can this possibly work? Long distance relationships..." "Never work out. I know. I know. But I have an idea." Tina raised her head a little to look at his face. She liked the determined look she saw there. "You...you do?" Tim smiled gently, wiping away the tears and kissing her eyes. She swallowed hard. "How long have we known each other? Fifteen years? More? Granted, ten of them were lost in limbo, but I won't make the same mistake twice. We will see each other again." "How? You're going to be off in the oceans somewhere. I'll be in the public eye." "I have leave. You get time off. We have the vidlinks and InterNex. As long as that tabloid photo is the only one to ever be published, we'll be okay. You were my friend long before this ever happened, and you will be after all this blows over. Besides, what good is it being a communications officer, if I don't know a few tricks about secure transmissions. We'll be fine. And if somewhere along the line we decide on something more or less, well, nothing's lost." Tina studied him intently, watching his mind race with options and possibilities. He seemed so sure of himself. Of her. Of them. How could she not trust he was right? How could she not love him? Love him? That realization made her sit bolt upright. She loved him, and if he thought it could work out, then it would. Tim pulled away in surprise. "What's wrong?" He demanded. "Did I say something wrong? Am I going too fast? You don't want to...of course, you don't..." Tina placed a finger on his lips and smiled. "No. It's not that. I just had a strange thought. That's all. I hate to say this, but I'm going to have to go soon. I'm leaving for Paris in a couple of hours." "So soon?" Tina nodded. "I'm afraid so." He reached down and handed Tina her shoes. "I'll walk you to the Launch Bay." They walked silently, hand in hand. They paused at the airlock for one more moment before she left. She touched his cheek. Tim studied her face, trying to memorize each detail before letting her go. The inevitable interruption came. Tony skidded up to them. "Look, Tim, I'm sorry, but I since you won't do it, I'll just have to ask her myself," he turned to Tina. "Ms. Randolf, can I have your autograph?" Tina laughed. The simple absurdity was the perfect ending to the tensely emotional last hour. "Absolutely, Tony." He handed her his favorite picture and a pen. She signed it with a flourish and handed it back. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. Tony beamed. "What was that for?" "Any friend of Tim's is a friend of mine. You take good care of him for me, will you Tony? I want him back healthy, happy, and in one piece the next time we meet?" "There's going to be a next time?" Tony asked. "Yes, is there?" Tim echoed. "Very definitely. Good-bye, Tony," she turned away from the dumbstruck seaman and stepped aside with Tim. "I won't say good-bye to you, Tim. I can't. It would be like saying good-bye to a part of myself." "I can't say good-bye to you, either. Anyone who can make Tony go speechless is pretty special. But I do want to say something before you go." Tina put a finger on his lips once more to stop him. "No, Tim, don't. Sometimes, the better words are the ones not spoken. Send me the novel. I saw your heart there. And call me. We'll try it your way." Tim nodded then pulled her close for one last passionate kiss. He could taste the salt of her tears on her lips, and knew how the novel had to end. Suddenly, the Launch Bay exploded with cheers and applause. Tim broke off the kiss and looked back with a little bit of embarrassment. It seemed most of the crew of seaQuest witnessed their leave taking. Ford stood near Piccolo grinning. "Way to go, Mr. O'Neill. Now, if you can tear yourself away from your friend, Captain Bridger needs to ask you about the communications upgrade." "Ye...yes, sir," Tim gulped. Later that evening, Tim worked on his computer. His belongings were back on the shelves and other proper places. He was trying to ignore the wrench in his heart when thinking about Tina. He'd found a slip of paper tucked inside his uniform. If she hadn't been a model, she would have been an excellent pickpocket. "I've always believed the better words are the ones left unspoken. Tim, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I'd blocked my heart from most human affection. It's a side-effect of being a celebrity. I'd never thought to be famous, it just happened one day. But now, I find myself feeling again. It's a beautiful thing, feeling. Don't let what happened here keep you from feeling, Tim. And just so you know, it's been a while since I've felt anything, but I'm pretty sure I love you. I do love you, and I know you love me, too, you didn't have to say it. Not as a friend, but as a woman loves a man. I know I have to leave you, perhaps forever, but you must know that one thing. Love is worth everything it takes. I love you. Tina." There was a knock on the door, as Tim knew there would have to be. It was Bridger. He looked around the cabin. "Glad you decided to stay with us, Mr. O'Neill." "This is my home, Captain," Tim replied. "And Tina's gone." "Tim, I want you to know I went to bat for you when the UEO came down with that ridiculous ultimatum. I had to tell you their concerns, but I agreed with you. It wasn't any of their business who you were seeing. I was proud of you for standing up to us all like that." "Thank you, Captain. But it's a moot point now, isn't it? I won't be seeing her." "Somehow, Mr. O'Neill, I doubt that. Where there's a will, there's always a way. And given your talents, and Ms. Randolf's will, I have a feeling that way isn't going to be that difficult. Congratulations, Mr. O'Neill, you've discovered how love makes the world go round." Bridger left before Tim could respond. He looked at the note again, and went back to the computer and started typing. She stopped him before he could speak. "Some words are better left unspoken." "Not these words," he told her, kissing her fingertips. "These words have to be spoken. I love you." She smiled through her tears. "I love you, too, but this is the end. Where do we go from here?" "It's not an ending. It's just the beginning." From: "Lori Bush" To: , Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 08:41:42 -0500 X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 5.00.2314.1300 Mailing-List: list seaquestdsv@onelist.com; contact seaquestdsv-owner@onelist.com Delivered-To: mailing list seaquestdsv@onelist.com List-Unsubscribe: Reply-to: seaquestdsv@onelist.com Subject: [seaquestdsv] FF:Better Words Not Spoken 1/2 This is not my story - it's by my friend Rhonda Eudaley, who is a wonderful writer. This is her first seaQuest piece, and she is not a member of any of the sQ lists, so I told her I would post it, and let her know what y'all thought. I promised her feedback - so fire away. "Better Words Not Spoken" by Rhonda Eudaly RATED: Mild PG 13 for minor smut and language in context Her form fitted dress slipped off her shoulders and started its long, sensual slide down her perfect body. She reached out to help his zipper on its own journey south. Desire, need, and want were almost uncontrollable as he took her in his arms and began exploring her mouth. He could still taste the sinfully rich dessert from dinner on her lips and breath... "Hey, Tim! Whatcha doing in there?" a loud voice called out. Lieutenant (J.G.) Tim O'Neill looked around guiltily as he hastily switched off his computer monitor and thrust a sheaf of papers into a drawer. He went and unlocked the door to his quarters. His friend, Sensor Chief Miguel Ortiz, stood there with Seaman Tony Piccolo, looking both concerned and annoyed. "Why'd you have the door locked?" Ortiz demanded, coming in past him. "Your door is never locked. What's up?" "I was busy. I didn't want to be disturbed," Tim responded, as Piccolo also came in. Tim checked the hallway, half expecting Lucas Wolenczak to be with them. He was their unofficial D'Artagnan to their very odd Three Musketeers. Strangely enough, Lucas wasn't with them. "Aren't you one short?" Tim asked, closing the door behind his friends. "Who're you calling short?" Piccolo demanded. "I meant, aren't you missing someone?" Tim rephrased his question. "Captain Bridger has Lucas working on a diagnostic or some such thing," Tony answered. He looked around the communication officers quarters. "So, whatcha got going on? You hiding a girl in here?" "Tony!" Tim protested. He couldn't help the faint feel of a blush. A totally unnecessary, unfounded, and guilty looking blush. "Look!" Piccolo crowed. "He's blushing!" "Why are you here?" Tim demanded. Ortiz looked at him in disbelief. "Don't tell me you forgot." "Forgot what?" Ortiz threw up his hands in disgust. "Can you believe it, Tony? He forgot!" Piccolo snorted in disbelief. "Now I know he's gotta have a girl in here somewhere." "I do not!" Tim protested once more. "I'm not that kind of guy!" "But what kind of guy forgets his own birthday, his own 30th birthday, and that his best friends are taking him out for night on the town?" Ortiz wanted to know. "Was that tonight?" Tim asked. Piccolo looked at Ortiz, "You want to tell me that's not a guy with something on the side?" Ortiz shrugged. "If Tim says he doesn't have a girl stowed away, I believe him." "Thank you," Tim began. "However," Ortiz interrupted. "That doesn't excuse you from going out with us tonight. Now, change your clothes. You look like you've slept in that uniform." Tim knew, from long experience, when to give in. This was one of those times. "All right, all right. Give me ten minutes. I'll meet you in the launch bay." Ortiz looked like he was bout to protest, but Tim was already herding them inexorably toward the door. "Okay," Ortiz said, finally, getting the hint. "But if you're not there in ten minutes we're coming back and dragging you bodily with us. Dressed or not." "You would drag me buck naked through the largest ship in the UEO?" Tim asked, opening the door. "If we had to," Ortiz replied, sticking to his guns. Tony was obviously weighing the ramifications before committing himself. "Well, I guess it would be appropriate, it being your birthday suit and all," Tony finally commented. "Get out both of you," O'Neill finally said. "I'll be there. I promise." Tim finally succeeded in closing the door on his friends. He started to change his uniform, but stopped. He stepped out of the legs of his jumpsuit and headed over to the computer. Standing in front of the screen in just his shorts and socks, Tim switched on the monitor. He scanned the words quickly and with a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, he saved the file and resumed dressing. The launch bay was busy with people coming and going, as it always was whenever seaQuest was in port. Miguel Ortiz and Tony Piccolo waited impatiently for Tim to join them. "You're not really going to drag him naked through the boat," Piccolo asked warily, "Are you?" "First of all, it was 'we,' not just me," Ortiz clarified staunchly. "And secondly, no. Are you nuts?" "Well..." "Besides, we won't have to," Ortiz said gesturing, "Look, here he comes." Tim slid to a halt in front of his friends and checked his watch. "Six seconds to spare." "About time," "So what's this wonderful night on the town you promised me?" "Trust us, will ya?" Piccolo answered. "Not as far as I can throw you," Tim replied. "Let's go." The seaQuest was currently docked for minor repairs, computer upgrades and reprovisioning in New Cape Quest, Florida. The three friends made their way into the heart of town. Tim looked around skeptically. "What are we doing here?" Tim wanted to know. "I want you to tell me where we're going. Is it that place with the sombreros and the pineapple drinks? That place really isn't my style." "No sense getting snippy. Geesh, Henderson was right - you can be mean," Piccolo said, slightly hurt. "WHAT?!" Tim protested. "Come on, it's your birthday, you should be having fun." "All right. All right." Ortiz and Piccolo pulled Tim into a doorway. Tim never quite got a good look at the name. "Just tell me it's not a strip club." "Would we take you to someplace like that?" Ortiz demanded. Tim just looked at him. "On your birthday?" He got the same look. "It's not a strip club, okay? It's not." And it wasn't. The club was actually very nice with the clientele in suitable amounts of clothing. More or less. It was also very, very crowded. Ortiz and Piccolo pushed their way to the front of the line of people waiting their turns to get in. Tim hung back. "Come on," they encouraged their friend. Tim balked. "Look at this crowd. We'll never get in. Let's go someplace else." "Nope, this is the place." Tim found himself pushed and pulled along. Ortiz said something to the Maitre'd or doorman or whatever he was, and suddenly they were in and being guided...to the back? Suddenly the communications officer was suspicious. Why this club? Why the insistence? Why the special treatment? "Surprise!" The shouted word brought Tim abruptly out of his thoughts. Suddenly, he was surrounded by all his friends and shipmates from seaQuest. They were singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" at the top of their lungs and off key. Tim found himself hugged, pounded, and passed along from person to person. He was dazed, confused, happy, and about to throw up all at once. He wasn't used to being the center of such attention. "Speech! Speech!" Came the unanimous cry. Tim gulped quickly at the drink which had mysteriously appeared in his hand. He looked at his friends, grinned nervously and said, "In what language?" A roar of laughter went up, Tim managed a few short words, and a new chant was taken up. "Cake! Cake! Cake!" A huge cake nearly ablaze in candles was wheeled out. Lucas Wolenczak's face glowed devilishly in the candlelight. Tim looked at Lucas, Ortiz and Piccolo as the rest of the crewmembers sang, "Happy Birthday." They looked at him expectantly. "I think there are too many candles on that cake." "Just make a wish and blow," Piccolo told him. "A girl had better not jump out of this cake," Tim warned. "No that would be my wish," Tony answered. "Come on, before the cake catches fire." Tim glared at Piccolo, thought for a moment, and blew out the candles. They all went out and stayed out. At least he hadn't had to deal with trick candles. Thank God for small favors. A knife was thrust into his hand to cut the first piece. "What did you wish for, Lieutenant?" Lucas asked, sidling up to Tim. "If I told you, then it won't come true," Tim replied. "Besides, I thought you were doing a diagnostic." Lucas grinned rakishly. "Someone had to set up the party." "How'd you get in?" "Brody and Lonnie helped." "I see." Tim got through the cake and the presents and found a moment to get away. He retreated to the bar and ordered a drink. He sat at the bar, nursing his drink, alone. Dr. Wendy Smith noticed and approached. "You okay, Tim?" she asked. "Yeah, fine." "Crowd getting to you, huh? It's tough being the center of attention." Tim grimaced at the telepathic doctor. "Good guess or are you reading my mind?" "In this chaos, call it an educated guess. I can't even hear my own mind, much less anyone else's." "I never asked for this you know," Tim said, picking up his drink. "I totally forgot it was my birthday." "I think that's why they did it, Tim," Wendy said gently. "Because you would've never done it for yourself." Tim thought about that a moment. He was about to respond to the good doctor when he heard his name. "Tim? Tim O'Neill? Is it really you?" It was a woman's voice. It carried even over the roar of the club. It was a low, sultry, sensual voice. It sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He turned to the voice and couldn't believe his eyes. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing before him. Though it took a while to get the full inventory. He had been looking down when the voice interrupted him. The first thing he saw was the longest, most shapely legs, ending in the short, form fitting dress of his writing. He traveled quickly up the willowy body to the chiseled face framed by masses of light brown hair. Wendy Smith decided it was a good time to beat a retreat - she didn't have to be telepathic to know Tim wouldn't appreciate a witness to this. "Um...um...yes?" "It is you, Tim, isn't it?" Tim swallowed hard, quickly trying to put this...this...vision...into some context that would relate to him. He couldn't even begin to try. "Ye...yes. I'm sorry, do I know you?" The woman laughed, a sexy, musical laugh full of genuine mirth. Her mesmerizing hazel eyes danced as she looked at him. "I wish there were more out there like you." Another woman came up and whispered urgently in her ear. Tim watched in fascination. She looked away a second then nodded. "I'll be right there. Give me a minute here." The other woman nodded and walked away. She turned back to Tim. "Are you in town for a while?" "Yeah, a week or two, why?" The woman reached past him for a cocktail napkin. The waft of her perfume made Tim a little heady. The bartender was right there with a pen. She wrote something quickly and handed the pen back to the bartender, and turned back to Tim. She started to hand the napkin to him when Ortiz and Piccolo came up. "Come on, man!" Piccolo exclaimed. "You're missing your own party!" "I'm sorry, Tim, I didn't realize I was keeping you..." the woman tried to apologize. Piccolo and Ortiz noticed her for the first time and simultaneously took a step back. Their mouths dropped open in awed disbelief. "It's my birthday," Tim explained. "Oh, right. You were one of the youngest kids in school. That was something else we had in common." She tucked the napkin into his hand as she kissed his cheek. "Happy Birthday, Tim." Suddenly, she was gone. Only the light scent of her very expensive perfume lingered. Tim looked at his friends. They were looking at him with shocked expressions. They were struck dumb by the whole exchange. "Who was that?" Piccolo finally demanded "She...Tim...she..." Ortiz tried. "Where...how?" Tim looked from one to the other. "You mean you two didn't...she really...?" "Oh, yeah, man," Piccolo replied. "We couldn't have come up with something that good. But you know, there's something familiar about her..." "In your dreams, Piccolo," Ortiz snorted. "That's the only time a woman like that is ever going to give you the time of day. Come on, Tim, let's get back to the party. People are starting to ask about you." "Give me a second, okay?" He told his friends. "I'll be right there." "Hurry." Tim drained the remainder of his drink, and, once his friends had gone, he smoothed the rumpled napkin. On it was written the name, "Tina," and a vidlink number. Tim sat bolt upright on his barstool and looked around. The woman was nowhere in sight. She'd known him. Called him by name. Who was she? Tina. Tina? The name seemed vaguely familiar, but the face. He would remember a face like that. Didn't she say something about school? "O'Neill!" "Coming!" Tim was brought back to reality. He shoved the cocktail napkin deep into his pocket and returned to his friends. It was very late, or very early (depending on your point of view), when the "Musketeers" returned to the seaQuest. Lucas helped an all but unconscious Piccolo to their quarters. Tim's task was to get Ortiz to his cabin without making a pass at a bulkhead - again. His friends had had a lot more fun at his party than he did, but he'd have more fun tomorrow - uh, make that later today. Once Tim dropped Ortiz off on his bunk and yanked off the sensor chief's shoes, he locked himself in his quarters and took out the napkin. He stared at it a moment. He went to his computer and turned it on. Desire, need, and want were almost uncontrollable as he took her in his arms and began exploring her mouth. He could still taste the sinfully rich dessert from dinner on her lips and breath... Tim shoved himself away from his computer. He ran his hands through his hair. Maybe he'd work on that later. Once he'd worked...hey, maybe he could do that. He paged up to the beginning of the file. He had no idea SHE would walk into his life. Like a black and white move goddess. She simply appeared in his life, full of mystery, promise, and hope. But there was something else there. A haunted and hunted look in her eyes that made him want to take her in his arms and never let go. To hold her until everything was all right, but first he needed to know her name. Tim's eyes began to droop, and he yawned hugely. Tim turned off the computer. His gifts had been brought back for him and left on his bunk. He had to clear them off before he could crawl in. Tim couldn't help but sighing as he looked at his gifts. They were all gifts for a nerd, or geek, maybe even a weenie. There were mind and word games. A shirt, and a conservative shirt at that. A gift card to a questionable "massage" parlor from Tony, but that was classic Piccolo. Tim grinned at that. A paint set from Captain Nathan Bridger. It was the captain's way of telling him not to let Mariah affect his life. He'd assured Bridger he wouldn't. The last was a copy of Cervantes' Don Quixote (in the original Spanish). He put it on the shelf with the other two copies of Don Quixote (in the original Spanish). "At least Don Quixote had Sancho Panza, Dulcinea, and a dream." Tim muttered. "I don't even have that." That caused an interesting train of thought. Who would make a good Sancho Panza to his Don Quixote? Ortiz or Lucas would be obvious choices, but they would do better with the ladies. That wouldn't do. Piccolo would think the whole thing was stupid. Lonnie was a girl. Ford would end up being Quixote while he would be the sidekick. Who did that leave? Dagwood. Yes, Dagwood would make the perfect Sancho. He could understand having a dream, especially an impossible one. And deep within the simple mind of the prototype GELF sat an awful lot of Truth. Though, Tim wouldn't bet the odds on who would win if Dagwood chose to actually tilt a windmill. That strange image followed Tim into sleep. But his dreams turned to Tina almost immediately. Several hours later, Tim sat bolt upright in bed. "No! It can't be! Not Tizzy Tina? No way." Tim shook his head in the dark. He settled back down, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Ortiz sat at breakfast the next morning wishing with sunglasses were part of the UEO uniform, or that Brody would let him have a weapon to shoot out the light fixtures. Somehow, he didn't think either would happen. Suddenly the room shook as if a massive earthquake had hit. Ortiz grabbed his head to stop the reverberations and the spinning. He yelled, screamed, and cursed this turn of events. Fortunately, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Gahk!" He looked up to see Piccolo sitting down. The earthquake had been his well-laden breakfast tray. Ortiz managed a sick glare. Piccolo didn't seem the least bit affected by the night's drinking, and surely Piccolo had been more drunk than the Cuban. "I keep tellin' ya, man, don't mix your liquors. Pick one and stick with it," Tony said. "What? How?" Ortiz gasped. "Oh, me? Long family history, man. We learn early," Piccolo said, digging into his breakfast. Ortiz couldn't watch. "By the way, I know who she is." "Who?" Ortiz demanded. "She who?" "That girl who kissed O'Neill last night. I know who she is." Ortiz looked at Piccolo in confusion. Piccolo sighed. "The bombshell. Remember?" "Vaguely. What about her?" "I know who she is." Piccolo pulled a picture out of his uniform and slapped it on the table. "It was her." Ortiz squinted at the table, willing his eyes to focus. "Could be. It does look like her. I guess. Who is it?" "Who is it?" Piccolo demanded incredulously. "Who is this? You're kidding, right?" Ortiz just looked at him. Captain Bridger looked around his Bridge. It was unusually quiet. Part of it was the fact they were on skeleton crew while in port. Ortiz and Tim were working on the sensor and communications upgrade. Others worked on the other repairs or refits, but that wasn't the whole reason for the subdued atmosphere. Bridger smiled indulgently; it had been quite a party the night before. And Tim had been a good sport about his birthday. Tim was half hidden by the communications console. Only his legs were visible from the topside. Ortiz watched the screens as Tim made adjustments. "How's that?" Tim's voice was muffled by the console. "Nothin'. We got nothin'." There was a grunt from under the console. "By the way, Miguel, do me a favor." "What's that, Tim. Still got nothin'." "Working on it. Hand me the screwdriver, will you?" Ortiz put the tool in Tim's questing hand. "What's the favor?" "Never let Tony talk you into giving me a party, for any reason, ever again." There was a clunk. "Try that." "Nope." "Hmm." "Did you ever figure out who that woman was?" "Why?" "Tony thinks he knows who she is." There was louder bang. Tim's legs jerked spasmodically. "Ow!" Suddenly, there was a flash of lights and the console lit up and chirped. "Hey! It worked! What did you do?" The communications officer squirmed out from under the console. He was rubbing his head. "I hit it with something." "What?" Ortiz asked. "My head." Tim got to his feet and checked the console and shrugged. "Well, what ever works. What were you saying about Tony?" "Get this, he thinks that girl who kissed you last night is some kind of model. Actually, a supermodel." "Yeah, uh huh, sure," Tim snorted. "Like I would know a supermodel." "That's what I told him!" Ortiz exclaimed. "Hey!" "You know what I mean, Tim. Like any of us would know a supermodel. The picture he showed me looked kind of like her. But who really looks like themselves in a bar?" Ortiz clapped Tim on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee." "Thanks, but no thanks, Miguel. I have plans." Tim shrugged off Ortiz's hand. The sensor chief looked at his friend like he'd spoken in some obscure language. Tim thought a moment, what language had he used? He thought it had been English. "Plans? What plans?" "Plans," Tim said simply, grateful he'd been speaking English, heading out of the Bridge. "Why didn't you tell me?" Ortiz complained, following his lanky friend. "Because it's none of your business, Miguel." The sensor chief stopped in mid-stride. His jaw dropped open once more. Tim O'Neill continued on his way without looking back. Ortiz couldn't bring himself to follow. Piccolo found him there a moment later. "Something wrong, Ortiz?" Tony asked the obvious question. Ortiz shook himself back to awareness, his eyes narrowing. "Our friend is definitely keeping something from us." "You just now figured that out?" Tony asked. "I've been telling you that for the last 24 hours." Tony paused as an idea came to him. "You want to find out what it is?" Ortiz considered. His eyes narrowed a little more and took on a conspiratorial glint. "Yes, I do." "All right." Tim was getting into the habit of locking the door to his cabin as he entered. This time he made doubly sure. He went to his computer and picked up the cocktail napkin and held it like a treasured possession. Before he placed the call, however, he found the electronic yearbook from high school. He shook his head over the pictures. Then, setting it aside, he took a deep breath and placed the call. "Hello?" The same low, sultry voice answered. The vidlink refused to give him a visual. The transmission was audio only. Tim's brow furrowed, puzzled. A glitch in the upgrade? He wasn't sure how that could be. He'd have to run a diagnostic in the morning. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Tim brought himself back abruptly. "Uh...yeah...I'm...I'm sorry. I...I was calling for Tina." "And who may I say is calling?" "Tim. Tim O'Neill. You gave me your number last night. At the bar? "How...?" "I recognized your voice," Tim answered quickly. "I was about to ask, how do I know you're really Tim O'Neill?" There was a hint of laughter in her voice. "Oh, well, obviously we could just do a visual communication," Tim replied, trying to reign in the sarcasm. "I have a privacy lock out." Ah, there was an explanation. He hadn't really wanted to run a diagnostic. "You approached me last night at a bar. My friends were throwing me a birthday party. You kissed my cheek and slipped me your number." "And do you remember me now?" Tim sighed. The game, such as it was, was getting old. "I remember a Tina Randolf. We met in the 3rd grade at Oakmont Elementary School. We were in the same class until 10th grade when Tina's family moved away. She had a heinous nickname, 'Tizzy...'" "You are the right Tim O'Neill. I wasn't wrong," the woman interrupted. "I know this is short notice, but would you like to get some dinner tonight? If you have plans, I'd understand." Tim couldn't believe he heard a note of hesitancy in her voice. As if he'd turn her down. "No, no, dinner's fine. How do you want to do this?" "There's a seafood place on the Pier. Do you know it?" "Yeah, I've seen it. I've never been there." "Oh, I didn't think of that. You're Navy. Do you even like seafood?" "As long as it's not dolphin or porpoise, I'm fine." "Dolphin?" "One of my best friends is a dolphin." "Oh...I...I see? Let's say in an hour then? I'll meet you there." "I'll be there." The connection was broken, and Tim sat back staring at the computer screen. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet. He only had an hour, and he needed to shower and change. Fortunately, the pier wasn't that far away. A half hour later, Tim stood before a mirror adjusting the collar of his khaki undress uniform. The creases were sharp. He hadn't had many opportunities to wear it lately. The blue fatigue uniform was more practical and comfortable for everyday wear. He took one last swipe at his still damp, dark hair, mentally threatening the sticky up parts to stay in place or else. He was almost out the door when he veered toward the dresser and a nearly full bottle of after-shave. He used it sparingly, aware it was a powerful, manly scent. He didn't want to overpower the woman. Piccolo saw Tim leave. On impulse, which was the only way the seaman acted, he followed. He sniffed the air as Tim passed and grinned. "I knew there was a girl involved!"