Possession - J.M. Dillard [36]
“May I come in?” she interrupted—and before he could refuse her, she stepped into his quarters far enough to let the doors close behind her. Boldly, she walked about the general living area. “Well, this is not what I expected!”
Worf’s lips parted in amazement; never had he seen a human demonstrate such forward, brazen behavior: why, she was behaving like a Klingon!
The thought sparked both guilt and anger, the same anger he had felt when he scolded Alexander: That woman is nothing like your mother!
“Dr. Dannelke, I do not know what it is you want but—” He blinked, finally reacting to her last statement. “What do you mean, this is not what you ‘expected’?”
“These aren’t a Klingon warrior’s quarters,” she announced with a grin. “Klingon quarters are austere. Warriors sleep on slabs of unyielding stone or metal. Comforts are for the weak. I looked it up this afternoon, after our talk. I’m right, aren’t I? So, what is all this? Pretty cushy place, Lieutenant.”
Worf ground his teeth and took a slow calming breath. This was the most exasperating female! “I have served aboard Klingon vessels and Federation vessels. When aboard Klingon vessels I have Klingon quarters as you have described. When aboard Federation vessels, I live as a Federation officer. It is practical and makes my fellow crew members comfortable when they visit. If it is any business of yours!”
His annoyance made no impression on her. “But surely your private quarters—your bedroom—is in true Klingon style. Hard slab. No pillow.” She moved toward the door that led to Alexander’s room, no doubt assuming it was Worf’s.
“Wait!” he called out quietly, worrying his son would hear them and wake up.
His hesitation allowed her to step close enough to the doors to open them. Worf drew up beside her as she realized whose room it really was.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet!” Dannelke murmured softly, as the Klingon eye glared at her from the computer station. “He sent me a message through the computer after the TechnoFair, along with a program he’d made that would allow him to have a small eye just like the big one I have over my display. He needed some help with it. I cleaned it up and sent it back to him. But he’s changed it! Originally it was a human eye, but now it’s clearly Klingon. What a clever young man.”
Worf felt his anger dissolving as the scientist plainly admired his son. He took her arm respectfully and pulled her away from the room, so the door would shut and allow his son to sleep.
“I thank you for spending the time on his program,” Worf said sincerely. “I know this close to the TechnoFair, it was time you no doubt needed for your own work.”
“That’s a charming kid you’ve got there, Lieutenant,” Dr. Dannelke said. “He’s hard to turn down. I notice he doesn’t sleep like a Klingon, though.” Had there been even a hint of sarcasm in her tone, he would have lost his temper completely; but her comment was simply curious, the comment of one who was sincerely interested in the child.
“Alexander’s mother was half human, so he has a mixed heritage,” Worf admitted, with no small amount of discomfort. “He is much more like her than he is like me. I am content exposing him to Klingon culture and letting him choose what parts of it he cares to adopt.”
For the first time, Dannelke’s brazenness faltered; she lowered her eyelids as she glanced guiltily around the quarters. “And Mrs. Worf … she’s asleep?”
The question’s purpose was so blatant that Worf could not resist a faint smile; at the same time, it increased his sense of awkwardness. “Had she been asleep, the scent of an unknown female in her quarters would have brought her instantly awake. No, Dr. Dannelke, there is no ‘Mrs. Worf.’ My mate K’Ehleyr, Alexander’s mother, was killed by an enemy of ours some time ago.”
She brought a hand to her mouth as if to contain an expression of surprise. “That’s awful. Oh, I’m so sorry, for you, and especially, for Alexander. I’ve really botched this up, Lieutenant!”
He had no idea what