By Invitation Only

Posted on Sun Jan 5th, 2025 @ 9:03pm by Lieutenant Ame Solis M.D.

Mission: Character Development
Location: USS Athena: Ame's Quarters
Timeline: Pandora's Box MD03: Following In the Quiet
2071 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure

“Computer, locate Jackson Moore.” The door to Savin’s office had barely closed behind her when Ame issued the command, her words clipped with urgency.

“Lieutenant Commander Jackson Moore is currently located in the Senior Officer’s Quarters, Deck 5.”

Her eyes widened, and she hurried toward the turbolift. Her cheeks were still flushed from the earlier conversation, and she absently patted her face, trying to lessen the redness and puffiness. While she wasn’t about to conceal the impact his unexpected arrival had on her, she didn’t want to give him a reason to go on the defensive right away.

“Career progression…” she muttered under her breath, the scoff barely audible as she stepped into the lift. “Deck 5.”

The idea that he might have made himself at home in her quarters, uninvited, sparked a fresh wave of irritation. She had been clear about meeting somewhere public. Then again, even that hadn’t panned out. There were few other options—certainly not the holodeck. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever contrived setting he might have chosen to steer the narrative. Before today, she’d never have imagined thinking of him as manipulative. Back then, it had all seemed so simple: his heart on his sleeve, at least where she was concerned.

The turbolift doors parted, and Ame stepped out with purpose, weaving through the seldom corridor traffic. Her pace slowed as she spotted him ahead, loitering near her door. Her jaw tightened, and her narrowed eyes betrayed her instinctive frustration.

“What happened to somewhere public?” she asked, stopping a few paces from him.

Jackson turned, his posture tense, hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform trousers. His expression was hard to read, equal parts anticipation and wariness. “Public wasn’t working out,” he said with a shrug, pulling one hand free to scratch the scar above his brow. “I figured we might have more privacy here.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “If that’s okay. I just… wanted a real conversation. Not one that gets interrupted by passing crew or cut short because someone needs us somewhere else.”

The Bajoran sucked on her teeth and tapped the panel to open the door without ceremony, gesturing inside. “Come on in…” Her eyes dropped to the floor as she stepped aside, waiting for him to pass. One arm crossed her chest defensively, her fingers resting just above her elbow.

There was nothing remarkable about her quarters. A box of personal items sat unpacked behind the couch, its flaps slightly bent from where she had started, then stopped. A faint aroma of incense lingered, mixing with the stale scent of cold coffee from a half-full mug on the table. A prototype nerve flickered with pale lights beside a synthetic skin section, both discarded in the corner—more evidence of her unrelenting work ethic.

Jackson stepped cautiously inside, his movements deliberate, as if afraid to disrupt the fragile atmosphere. His gaze swept the room briefly, taking in the ‘lived-in’ details—the untouched box, the abandoned project, the lack of personal touches save for the incense. This wasn’t just Ame’s living space; it was a holding pattern. A place that mirrored someone living between moments, between decisions.

He lingered near the door, his hands retreating back into his pockets. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what to expect,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder. “I figured you’d have thrown yourself into work, but… this is a whole new level of dedication.”

Her brow lifted at the comment, but she stayed silent, her arms still folded as if shielding herself from the weight of his words. The door slid shut with a quiet hiss, sealing them inside. She shifted her stance slightly but didn’t sit, the tension in her body betraying her otherwise stoic façade.

The attempt at levity fell flat, and Jackson exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Ame, I didn’t mean to ambush you earlier. I didn’t even know I’d be on this ship until two weeks ago. Transfer orders came through out of nowhere, and when I realised… I thought it might be my only chance to talk to you. Face to face.”

“And here you are,” her voice coarse but measured. She fought to keep her tone even, unwilling to let her loneliness or frustration twist her words. Letting him speak first seemed the safest way to navigate this, but each moment stretched her resolve thinner.

Jackson hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I know I don’t have the right to ask for your time—not after everything. But I had to try. I needed to let you know that I haven’t stopped thinking about us. About what I threw away.” He paused, his hands coming together in front of him, his fingers brushing against the band still on his finger.

His voice grew quieter, tinged with regret. “I can’t undo what I did. I can’t stand here and ask you to forgive me because… I don’t deserve it. But I need you to know it wasn’t because I stopped loving you. It wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

Ame’s jaw tensed, and her fingers curled around the sides of her uniform as she listened. Her weight shifted from one side to the other. Her eyes watched his hands, his shoulders dropped, and the deep stain of regret on his face. She let him continue.

His gaze lifted, locking onto hers, vulnerable but steady. “I made a mistake—an unforgivable one—but I’ve been trying to be better since. I’ve cut back on drinking… almost stopped entirely. I transferred ships and even cut ties with people I needed to because I couldn’t keep going the way I was. I know none of that erases what happened. But I’m not that man anymore, Ame. I can’t be.”

“So it was the first time?” Her fingers curled tighter, feeling the pinch of the fabric against her skin.

Jackson exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. “Yes, Ame. It was the first and only time.” He took a step closer but stopped himself, his hands half-lifting before falling back to his sides. “I don’t have an excuse for it. I was drunk, and I let myself get caught in a stupid moment. We were talking about… life, partners, things we missed. It wasn’t planned, and it didn’t mean anything—at least not to me. But it still happened, and I hate myself for it.”

Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of disbelief flashing across her face. “So, what? You’ve stopped drinking, you’ve cut this person out of your life and skipped to another ship. What’s to say you don’t fall back into this habit again?”

Jackson’s jaw tightened, his hands falling to his sides. “Because I’ve done more than just make promises, Ame. I’ve taken real steps. I stopped drinking—entirely. Not just cutting back, not just socially. It’s been almost a year now. And I didn’t just transfer ships to run away from the situation; I did it to start fresh, to put distance between myself and the mistake I made. I knew staying there wasn’t fair to you—or to me.”

He hesitated, meeting her eyes with an intensity that bordered on vulnerability. “I even spoke to my brother about it. He knows what I did, and he’s been keeping me accountable. I couldn’t let myself fall into that trap again. Not if I ever wanted a chance to fix what I broke.”

Her arms remained tightly crossed, her expression unreadable as she absorbed his words. For a moment, the silence in the room felt suffocating. Then, her voice came, softer, but no less weighted. “I came home to surprise you, you know.” Ame’s voice was steadier than she expected, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed the weight of her words. “I thought it’d be nice… us finding out together.”

Jackson’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his expression. “Finding out?”

She exhaled sharply, her arms wrapping tighter around herself. “I thought I might be pregnant. I wanted to tell you in person. I wanted us to share that moment.” Her voice dropped, the bitterness barely contained. “But instead, I walked in and found you with someone else. And whatever hope I had, whatever excitement I felt, it shattered the second I saw you with her.”

Jackson paled, his hand dragging down his face as he turned away for a moment, clearly wrestling with his shame. “Ame… I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t even—” He stopped, shaking his head as if trying to find the right words.

She didn’t let him finish. “I left. Got in your truck and drove until I found a shuttle to Starbase 621. While I was waiting, I took the test.” Her voice trembled now, the emotions she’d bottled up for so long finally breaking through. “It was positive. But before I could even process that, I lost it. I lost everything, Jackson. The baby, my trust in you, the future I thought we had. And you… you never even knew.”

His voice broke as he spoke, his eyes pleading with her. “Ame, I—God, I don’t even know what to say. I can’t imagine what you went through, what I put you through. I…” He stepped closer, though he didn’t dare reach for her. “I don’t deserve forgiveness. Not for this. But you need to know that what happened with her—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “It wasn’t anything. It wasn’t love. It was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I’ve hated myself every day since. If I’d known… if I’d had any idea what you were carrying, what you were going through—”

Her eyes flashed with fury, and she stepped back instinctively, putting space between them as her voice rose. “But you didn’t! You didn’t even know I was there, Jackson. You didn’t care enough to be thinking about me when it mattered.”

Jackson closed the gap between them in one determined step, his hands half-raised as if to reach for her but stopping short, unsure of what she’d allow. “Ame—”

Before he could finish, she struck his chest with a closed fist, not hard enough to hurt him but enough to vent the whirlwind inside her. “You weren’t there!” she cried, the words raw and cracked with emotion. Another punch, this one weaker, and then another, until the strikes slowed to a stop, her fists trembling against his chest.

Jackson stood motionless, his arms hovering awkwardly for a moment before he finally brought them around her, his touch tentative at first, then steadying as she collapsed against him.

Ame’s sobs broke free, muffled against his uniform as she clung to him, her anger crumbling under the weight of her grief. “I was so scared,” she choked out. “I didn’t know what to do, and you weren’t there.”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, his hand moving gently in soothing circles against her back. “I know,” he whispered hoarsely. “I wasn’t there, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I’m here now, Ame. I’m here.”

Ame’s grip tightened, her tears soaking into his shoulder as the weight of everything poured out. She didn’t speak, didn’t try to frame her feelings into words, because right now, the ache in her chest spoke louder than anything she could say.

Jackson tightened his embrace, his chin resting lightly atop her head as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss into her hair. “I’m not going to let you down again,” he whispered, the words steady and sure. He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his hands cupping her face as if she might slip away. “You don’t have to forgive me yet. You don’t even have to believe me. Just… let me stay in your life. Let me show you who I am now. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. For as long as it takes, Ame. I’m here.”