Hard Crash - Christie Golden [29]
He nodded. "And this time, you're my boss."
"Another wrinkle in an already very wrinkled relationship."
"Very wrinkled."
"I missed you."
He looked up quickly at her. She held his gaze. Her heart began to beat faster. "I never got involved with anyone else," Sonya continued.
"You were probably just too busy," said Duffy, but his voice shook, just a little.
"I'd have made time for you," Sonya replied.
"You could now."
"Can I? Can I really? Oh, Kieran," she sighed, and she reached across the table to grasp his hand. "I'm tired. I don't want to think about this right now. I just want to be with you, eat our various comfort foods, and enjoy each other's company."
He smiled, and as she remembered, he looked just like a little boy when he grinned that grin. "Sounds good to me," he said.
Gomez felt warm inside. They'd broken the ice, and she had learned something that was very important to her. Kieran Duffy was still her friend, despite the time and distance that had developed between them. There would be an opportunity to explore this further, if it was what they both wanted. For now, she laughed, and clinked her cup of cocoa against his bowl of macaroni and cheese.
Alone in his quarters, Bart reread the letter he'd just finished writing to Anthony. It was long, eight pages' worth of small, neat script. He had told his partner everything. About their fear of the Borg, about finding Jaldark's log, about Soloman and his new name, about the sorrow and joy both sentient ship and unpaired Bynar were discovering in their newfound solitary lives. He frowned, crumpled up the heavy, cream colored paper, and tossed it over his shoulder. It was all wrong. It was full of details, of description. Those were the things he'd tell Anthony later, over a delicious candlelit dinner in Anthony's quarters on Starbase 92.
Right now, he needed to say the important things. 111's untimely death and Jaldark's heartbreaking story had taught him that. There was no need for a long letter.
He selected another sheet of stationary, and began again.
My dearest Anthony, just a brief note to tell you how much I love you. Goodnight.
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