Dry-Dock

       
        Star Date: 7703.31
       
        Kirk slid slowly off of the bed, pulling his sleeping robe from the floor where Sharalyn had dropped it earlier. He moved quietly. Wrapping the robe about him, he padded over to the window of their sleeping quarters. Behind him, on the bed, Sharalyn lay sleeping peacefully, a smile dancing on her delicate lips, her green-gold hair tumbled across the pillows she preferred. Kirk turned to look at her before he peered out the window at the huge dark form tethered to the station.
        He had not considered what his feelings would be before this. To see his ship again, idle, waiting, beckoning to him. The tiny firefly specs dancing around the hull within the lacy repair dock were the refurbishing crew. Triple shifts and overtime was the word for this project. Before she had been moved here, the missing nacelles had been replaced. The damaged hull had been sealed. The carbon scouring had been removed.
        Kirk had been summoned by the Admiralty for consultation. Again. And again, he had refused command.
        He had never thought to leave command before. Before the incident that had nearly destroyed his ship and left him doubting his own ability. He hadn't fought his removal from active status after that. He had settled for the teaching post Nogura had offered, content to hide away from the positions that would require command decisions. Content to stay away from the training flights, the simulators. It was safer to stay with the lectures, the seminars, and the basics. He knew he was hiding, he just hadn't bothered to face it, or why.
        Now he watched her rebirth... and was beginning to sense his own. And yet... It's only been two years! The nightmares were less frequent, but they were as violent. The horrible screams of the injured or terrified crew, the crunching sounds of ship walls crumbling...
        Sharalyn threw off the covers and shivered in the energy-conserving chill. Ignoring her own sleeping robe she glided swiftly across the floor to her husband and slipped inside his, pressing herself knowingly against his warm flesh.
        She felt his response to that polished tactic press against her and used her hands to complete the distraction.
        Kirk glanced down at her, lovely to look at as always, but especially now. He stroked her hair, feeling its luxuriant softness and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume.
        “Thinking about going back?” she spoke softly so as not to break the romance of the mood. Her hands kept moving.
        “No... No. Just remembering.”
        “They've asked you, haven't they.” she was doing things with her hands under the robe that made him catch his breath.
        “Yes. The war has made them overlook my record,” he said sarcastically.
        “Going to go?” she wheedled.
        “If I were alone, I might consider it.” At her sharp intake of breath he hurriedly added, “But think about it. Everyone I depended upon, scattered to the winds.” He let his voice trail off, focused on what her hands were doing.
        “I’ll bet good old Henrichi will arrange to locate them all.”
        “As he did me?”
        “Well, you must admit, transferring you in mid-semester to the very facility where they were docking the Enterprise, is rather suspicious.”
        He looked back out at the lights, but could not ignore her hands. He didn’t stop her. He couldn’t have stopped her. His body was ignoring his mind.
        She snuggled against him, rubbing her own now hard nipples against the hair that arrowed down his chest.
        “Besides,” he added, “it will be a long time before she’s fit to be used.”
        “Word is that she’s to pull out in three to four months,” her voice was muffled against his chest.
        He leaned back and regarded her for a moment, “You’ve been checking up on it, have you?” He arched one eyebrow, an unconscious imitation.
        She shrugged, “Got to keep current on the competition.” She grinned mischievously up at him.
        He glanced back once more at the shadowy ship, then lifted and carried her back across the cold floor to their bed. He temporarily forgot all else as she began to move rhythmically against him.
       
        RECORDS LOG ENTRY: 4-7704.01H. DEMOTH proceeding on schedule. Minor difficulties in supplies not exceeding statistical expectations. Adjustments to reconstruction and training staff not unanticipated.