To Keep From Harm - [Raynor Hughes]

[Starbase Athena - Medical Research Lab]

It was the shift known as Gamma, and all through the base, barely a creature was stirring, not even the young Cardassian female currently sleeping on her console in the medical research lab.


Ilana Telak was, in a word, miserable. The recent events that had left her without even the stammer she had been so ashamed of weighed heavily on her skinny shoulders. Why had she done it? Why had she gone to the holodeck and instructed the computer to give her a medical program capable of operating on living tissue and have it perform the procedure that she had planned out? She could only put it down to the strange spores that had flooded the station. They had made everyone act out of sorts.

She had been taken off active duty. A mute medic wasn't of much use. Admiral Deacon had assigned her to this research position. Ilana had to admit that Deacon had done her best, and she respected the admiral. It was always difficult to accept sympathy from people about losing a faculty that so many took for granted, but Deacon hadn't given her that same cloying pity. Then again, the admiral herself was blind. She probably knew what it was like to be on the receiving end. And she had given Ilana this position to continue serving Starfleet, on 'open research'. That had been a little trick on the paperwork. It meant that Ilana was being given free rein to use all the resources she needed in order to fix her problem.

And so Ilana did what she did best. She worked. And worked. And worked. So hard, in fact, that she often forgot to eat, let alone get any sleep. Eventually, her body gave up on her, leaving her slumped over her work station, her glasses askew, as she finally slept.

*Ensign Telak is in the Medical Research Lab.*

"Now...why does that not surprise me?" Raynor said, his voice a low and feral growl. Sighing a little, the Klingon hefted his bundle under his arm and headed that way, the expression on his face warning off most from even approaching him. Not that most of the crew needed any further reason to do that.

It was an interesting sociological experiment - having worn both a Starfleet and a KDF uniform in his career, Raynor couldn't help but notice how much more receptive crewmembers were to him in the former, even though he didn't wear the full warrior's metals while on duty. Interesting...for someone with more time to ponder. Or who cared.

He sighed again as he entered the medlab. One of the techs nodded to him, her smile sympathetic. People knew a few details, or at least thought they knew them, of the relationship between himself and the Cardassian. In truth, Raynor didn't even know those details himself. They had a long discussion in their future...but that point was moot for now, considering that she couldn't even talk.

Raynor set his bag of containers down on the desk next to where Ilana slept. He wanted to wake her up, but what if she'd just gone to sleep? Should he just leave her here? Finally, Raynor decided to just see how deeply asleep she was. "Lana," he said, his voice a conversational volume.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor set his bag of containers down on the desk next to where Ilana slept. He wanted to wake her up, but what if she'd just gone to sleep? Should he just leave her here? Finally, Raynor decided to just see how deeply asleep she was. "Lana," he said, his voice a conversational volume.

Ilana never really remembered her dreams. She had no need to, in most cases. They were generally boring, reiterations of her daily life, which wasn't all that interesting in the first place. Especially not now. In fact, the dream she was having now included her sitting at the same console, researching something to do with the Borg, although she couldn't see what exactly she was researching.

Lana.

The Cardassian sat bolt upright in her chair, eyes suddenly wide and short black hair in disarray. She grabbed at her glasses as they slipped off the end of her nose, looking up at the large mass of Klingon that had woken her up. A faint, guilty smile crossed her features. A normal person would have said 'hello', but that was an ability lost to her, so she turned to the console, bringing up the text-to-speech program she had been using so far to communicate.

Hello, Raynor.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana never really remembered her dreams.  She had no need to, in most cases.  They were generally boring, reiterations of her daily life, which wasn't all that interesting in the first place.  Especially not now.  In fact, the dream she was having now included her sitting at the same console, researching something to do with the Borg, although she couldn't see what exactly she was researching.

Lana.

The Cardassian sat bolt upright in her chair, eyes suddenly wide and short black hair in disarray.  She grabbed at her glasses as they slipped off the end of her nose, looking up at the large mass of Klingon that had woken her up.  A faint, guilty smile crossed her features.  A normal person would have said 'hello', but that was an ability lost to her, so she turned to the console, bringing up the text-to-speech program she had been using so far to communicate.

Hello, Raynor.

By now, Raynor had come to know the computerized voice though which his best friend was forced to speak. Still, it was quite unnerving, hearing her words processed and repeated by such a tone. Oh, sure, the voice was pleasantly modulated, and could even parse things like contractions and slang. But...it wasn't her. He'd schooled himself not to jump or dare allow himself to feel uncomfortable over it, though. This situation had been his fault and his alone. To cause her any more discomfort would only pile cowardice on to his failure.

"I was going to carry you to your quarters," he said, unpacking the falsepaper bags and setting the containers out on the table. "But with as lightly as you were sleeping, you probably would have woken up and punched me, or something." Raynor popped open one bowl-like container, the aroma of tomato bisque soup rising from it.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

By now, Raynor had come to know the computerized voice though which his best friend was forced to speak.  Still, it was quite unnerving, hearing her words processed and repeated by such a tone.  Oh, sure, the voice was pleasantly modulated, and could even parse things like contractions and slang.  But...it wasn't her.  He'd schooled himself not to jump or dare allow himself to feel uncomfortable over it, though.  This situation had been his fault and his alone.  To cause her any more discomfort would only pile cowardice on to his failure.

"I was going to carry you to your quarters," he said, unpacking the falsepaper bags and setting the containers out on the table.  "But with as lightly as you were sleeping, you probably would have woken up and punched me, or something."  Raynor popped open one bowl-like container, the aroma of tomato bisque soup rising from it.

Ilana's expression closed off again as she realised exactly why Raynor was here. It wasn't to help her or keep her company during the long hours she was spending doing research to try to fix her problem, but it was to take her away from her work. That was always what he did. He always wanted her to stop working, to take a break, but a break wasn't going to give her her voice back.

I must return to my work, she typed into the console. I have to keep looking for a solution.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana's expression closed off again as she realised exactly why Raynor was here.  It wasn't to help her or keep her company during the long hours she was spending doing research to try to fix her problem, but it was to take her away from her work.  That was always what he did.  He always wanted her to stop working, to take a break, but a break wasn't going to give her her voice back.

I must return to my work, she typed into the console.  I have to keep looking for a solution.

Raynor crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow as he considered his friend. "Of course you do. And you also need to take periodic breaks, but you don't do that." He finished unpacking the food, spreading everything out on the tabletop. "You also need to stop skipping meals, before you get taken away on the breeze the next time Ops has the air conditioning cranked up too high."

The Klingon pointed to the lunch/breakfast/whatever he'd brought her. "Tomato soup and toasted French bread. Icoberry juice, chilled...though, not for long, if you don't drink it soon," he grinned. Tomato soup had been one of his father's favorite lunches. Morgan Hughes had said that Raynor's mother had even learned to make it for him, and had liked it, too...though he'd always joked that it was probably because the soup looked like blood.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow as he considered his friend.  "Of course you do.  And you also need to take periodic breaks, but you don't do that."  He finished unpacking the food, spreading everything out on the tabletop.  "You also need to stop skipping meals, before you get taken away on the breeze the next time Ops has the air conditioning cranked up too high."

The Klingon pointed to the lunch/breakfast/whatever he'd brought her.  "Tomato soup and toasted French bread.  Icoberry juice, chilled...though, not for long, if you don't drink it soon," he grinned.  Tomato soup had been one of his father's favorite lunches.  Morgan Hughes had said that Raynor's mother had even learned to make it for him, and had liked it, too...though he'd always joked that it was probably because the soup looked like blood.

Ilana scowled at her best friend, but knew exactly how stubborn he could be. They often butted heads on things like this, and she had found that she very rarely won those battles. Mainly because he used his superior force, even carrying her out of her office one night.

She sighed heavily, and looked at the food he had laid out for her. He had even remembered that she wasn't keen on meat. She picked up the bowl of soup, looking at it for a moment, as if waiting for it to start snarling at her, and took a sip. It was good, very good. Hot and strong.

Thank you, she typed into the computer.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana scowled at her best friend, but knew exactly how stubborn he could be.  They often butted heads on things like this, and she had found that she very rarely won those battles.  Mainly because he used his superior force, even carrying her out of her office one night.

She sighed heavily, and looked at the food he had laid out for her.  He had even remembered that she wasn't keen on meat.   She picked up the bowl of soup, looking at it for a moment, as if waiting for it to start snarling at her, and took a sip.  It was good, very good.  Hot and strong.

Thank you, she typed into the computer.

"Sure thing, Lana," Raynor said, pulling over one of the chairs to take a seat, swiveling it around and straddling it backward. He took a slice of bread and began to chew, mainly because he didn't want Ilana feeling awkward by eating alone in the middle of a work lab. But, also...because it was pretty damn good bread. "I bought this from one of the promenade vendors, so it's real stuff. Not replicated. My father loved to make this soup, but I guess I never inherited any culinary talents."

He glanced at her computer terminal. "What...what is it you're working on, exactly?" the Klingon asked. Getting an update on her progress was one of the reasons he was here. The easier of the two, likely.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

"Sure thing, Lana," Raynor said, pulling over one of the chairs to take a seat, swiveling it around and straddling it backward.  He took a slice of bread and began to chew, mainly because he didn't want Ilana feeling awkward by eating alone in the middle of a work lab.  But, also...because it was pretty damn good bread.  "I bought this from one of the promenade vendors, so it's real stuff.  Not replicated.  My father loved to make this soup, but I guess I never inherited any culinary talents."

He glanced at her computer terminal.  "What...what is it you're working on, exactly?" the Klingon asked.  Getting an update on her progress was one of the reasons he was here.  The easier of the two, likely.

After another mouthful of soup, Ilana typed on the console with one hand. She hated this manner of communication. It was too slow for her. The stammer had been bad enough, but this was ridiculous. Her long, thin fingers tapped away until eventually the computer came out with:

I'm working on a way to somehow reconnect the nerves that were damaged so that I can use my voice again. So far, I have been looking at organic methods of doing so, synapse transplants and the like, but none of it looks like it is going to work.

Ilana Telak wrote:

After another mouthful of soup, Ilana typed on the console with one hand.  She hated this manner of communication.  It was too slow for her.  The stammer had been bad enough, but this was ridiculous.  Her long, thin fingers tapped away until eventually the computer came out with:

I'm working on a way to somehow reconnect the nerves that were damaged so that I can use my voice again.  So far, I have been looking at organic methods of doing so, synapse transplants and the like, but none of it looks like it is going to work.

The Klingon took another bite of bread, patiently waiting for Ilana to type out her message to him on the terminal. It irked him that this was the only way they could communicate, barring either of them suddenly developing telepathy. But, for now...it was all there was. He had to smile, though, as she typed - her shoulder and wrist positioning were impeccable, making her quite the precise little typist. Everything just so, he amusedly thought. It was one of his favorite things about her.

"You've been looking at organic 'so far'? Does that mean you're considering inorganic means? Cybernetic implants?" Such things definitely weren't unheard of, especially in the world of 24th century medicine. Some fringe cultures even made regular practice of cyber-enhancing themselves. It was certainly a possibility.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

The Klingon took another bite of bread, patiently waiting for Ilana to type out her message to him on the terminal. It irked him that this was the only way they could communicate, barring either of them suddenly developing telepathy. But, for now...it was all there was. He had to smile, though, as she typed - her shoulder and wrist positioning were impeccable, making her quite the precise little typist. Everything just so, he amusedly thought. It was one of his favorite things about her.

"You've been looking at organic 'so far'? Does that mean you're considering inorganic means? Cybernetic implants?" Such things definitely weren't unheard of, especially in the world of 24th century medicine. Some fringe cultures even made regular practice of cyber-enhancing themselves. It was certainly a possibility.

Ilana shrugged one shoulder in response to Raynor's apparent surprise that she was considering using a cybernetic implant. If she was completely honest with herself, she didn't like the idea, but there were times when you just had to grit your teeth and accept that there were some things that she just had to do if she ever wanted to get her speech back.

Memory Alpha and Starfleet Medical have sent me various schematics for cybernetic implants from different cultures to restore speech. A voice synthesiser, a vocoder, even a Borg vocal subprocessor. She set down the bowl of soup, which was still half full, and was apparently going to go back to her research.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana shrugged one shoulder in response to Raynor's apparent surprise that she was considering using a cybernetic implant.  If she was completely honest with herself, she didn't like the idea, but there were times when you just had to grit your teeth and accept that there were some things that she just had to do if she ever wanted to get her speech back.

Memory Alpha and Starfleet Medical have sent me various schematics for cybernetic implants from different cultures to restore speech.  A voice synthesiser, a vocoder, even a Borg vocal subprocessor.  She set down the bowl of soup, which was still half full, and was apparently going to go back to her research.

Raynor's expression remained mostly the same as Ilana went through all her possible options. Until she got to the whole Borg part, that was. "Borg tech? Do you even have the clearance to get ahold of something like that?" He frowned in thought, eyeing her bowl of soup. It was halfway eaten, which was honestly a bit more than what he was expecting, so Raynor decided on the discretionary part of valor.

"Would it be possible to use something like the Borg do...with their nanotechnological probes. They can repair themselves with a mindless kind of ease. I wonder...does that extend to all aspects of function, or just the basics?"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor's expression remained mostly the same as Ilana went through all her possible options.  Until she got to the whole Borg part, that was.  "Borg tech?  Do you even have the clearance to get ahold of something like that?"  He frowned in thought, eyeing her bowl of soup.  It was halfway eaten, which was honestly a bit more than what he was expecting, so Raynor decided on the discretionary part of valor.  

"Would it be possible to use something like the Borg do...with their nanotechnological probes.  They can repair themselves with a mindless kind of ease.  I wonder...does that extend to all aspects of function, or just the basics?"

Once again, Ilana raised one shoulder in a shrug and let it fall. I have Admiral Deacon's permission to use all resources necessary to work on a solution to this problem, she typed out. Having an admiral's permission opened all kinds of doors when it came to the world of research, including getting into some of the information termed as classified.

As of yet, I do not understand enough about Borg nanoprobes to know whether or not they could be used, but from what I understand, they will not remove scar tissue. It is, after all, a natural element.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Once again, Ilana raised one shoulder in a shrug and let it fall.  I have Admiral Deacon's permission to use all resources necessary to work on a solution to this problem, she typed out.  Having an admiral's permission opened all kinds of doors when it came to the world of research, including getting into some of the information termed as classified.  

As of yet, I do not understand enough about Borg nanoprobes to know whether or not they could be used, but from what I understand, they will not remove scar tissue.  It is, after all, a natural element.

Nodding, Raynor got up from the chair, taking another bite of bread. He knew that this part of the conversation would be better done with sooner rather than later, but it still didn't make it any easier. "We'll do the research, then. You'll have every free hour I have to give you, Lana. And any resources I can scare out of people." His expression said that he wasn't just using 'scare' as a turn of phrase.

Raynor didn't realize he was pacing until he glanced down at the deck plating. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his long hair, turning back around and facing the Cardassian. "I...I will be here until a solution is found for you, Lana. I swear that on my blood and name. But...I wanted you to hear this from me, and not anywhere else, first." The Klingon moved over closer to Ilana, but still kept distance, as if he couldn't trust his own hands not to hurt her again. "I have accepted a position at a research outpost. It is...on the edge of Wadi space, in the Gamma Quadrant."

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Nodding, Raynor got up from the chair, taking another bite of bread.  He knew that this part of the conversation would be better done with sooner rather than later, but it still didn't make it any easier.  "We'll do the research, then.  You'll have every free hour I have to give you, Lana.  And any resources I can scare out of people."  His expression said that he wasn't just using 'scare' as a turn of phrase.

Raynor didn't realize he was pacing until he glanced down at the deck plating.  With a sigh, he ran his hand through his long hair, turning back around and facing the Cardassian.  "I...I will be here until a solution is found for you, Lana.  I swear that on my blood and name.  But...I wanted you to hear this from me, and not anywhere else, first."  The Klingon moved over closer to Ilana, but still kept distance, as if he couldn't trust his own hands not to hurt her again.  "I have accepted a position at a research outpost.  It is...on the edge of Wadi space, in the Gamma Quadrant."

Ilana had been watching her best friend pacing back and forth over the deck plates and simply sat there, waiting for him to come out with whatever it was that he needed to say.

What he had to say caused her jaw to drop. She bolted to her feet, reaching up so that she could place her hands on either side of his head, her green eyes searching his for any hint of this being a joke. The muscles in her jaw worked, wishing that she could speak to him. Her expression was both surprised and scared as she stepped back, typing on the console again.

You are not leaving?

Ilana Telak wrote:

Ilana had been watching her best friend pacing back and forth over the deck plates and simply sat there, waiting for him to come out with whatever it was that he needed to say.  

What he had to say caused her jaw to drop.  She bolted to her feet, reaching up so that she could place her hands on either side of his head, her green eyes searching his for any hint of this being a joke.  The muscles in her jaw worked, wishing that she could speak to him.  Her expression was both surprised and scared as she stepped back, typing on the console again.

You are not leaving?

Moving with a speed that she sometimes surprised him with, Ilana hopped up from the desk. Her hands were cool against the sides of his face, but the heat in her emerald eyes was very real. Raynor knew that this would not be an easy process, but...it was something that had to be done.

"Not right away, no," he said, moving back closer to the desk, leaning against it next to where Ilana was at the console. "Once we get this problem solved, get you better...then I'll accept the transfer. The orders have already come down to Admirals Stark and Deacon's desks, it's just waiting on my approval. As an exchange officer, I control a good bit of my own destiny."

Reaching over, Raynor brushed a bit of Ilana's short black hair along her ear, smiling with a touch of bittersweet sadness. "It's a good assignment, Lana. We hardly know anything about the Wadi. With the war over, the Gamma Quadrant is safer for exploration."

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Moving with a speed that she sometimes surprised him with, Ilana hopped up from the desk.  Her hands were cool against the sides of his face, but the heat in her emerald eyes was very real.  Raynor knew that this would not be an easy process, but...it was something that had to be done.  

"Not right away, no," he said, moving back closer to the desk, leaning against it next to where Ilana was at the console.  "Once we get this problem solved, get you better...then I'll accept the transfer.  The orders have already come down to Admirals Stark and Deacon's desks, it's just waiting on my approval.  As an exchange officer, I control a good bit of my own destiny."

Reaching over, Raynor brushed a bit of Ilana's short black hair along her ear, smiling with a touch of bittersweet sadness.  "It's a good assignment, Lana.  We hardly know anything about the Wadi.  With the war over, the Gamma Quadrant is safer for exploration."

Her next actions came as quite a surprise Ilana. She found her fist coming down with a thump against the console and angry tears gathering in her eyes. Why was she acting like a petulant child? If Raynor wanted to move on in his career in Starfleet, who was she to argue with him?

On the console, the hand didn't relax. The Gamma Quadrant? That was so far away... The thought that she could just slow down her research came to mind, but that seemed selfish. She knew that he blamed himself for her current condition and that only helping her to regain her speech again would be able to placate him.

Swallowing hard, she typed out on the console: I am happy for you. The emotionless nature of the computer's voice was a blessing in this instance, as she was sure that she would never be able to keep emotion leaking into her voice had she said it aloud.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Her next actions came as quite a surprise Ilana.  She found her fist coming down with a thump against the console and angry tears gathering in her eyes.  Why was she acting like a petulant child?  If Raynor wanted to move on in his career in Starfleet, who was she to argue with him?  

On the console, the hand didn't relax.  The Gamma Quadrant?  That was so far away...  The thought that she could just slow down her research came to mind, but that seemed selfish.  She knew that he blamed himself for her current condition and that only helping her to regain her speech again would be able to placate him.

Swallowing hard, she typed out on the console:  I am happy for you.  The emotionless nature of the computer's voice was a blessing in this instance, as she was sure that she would never be able to keep emotion leaking into her voice had she said it aloud.

Raynor jumped a little at the sound of her hand coming down on the tabletop. Not so much at the noise of it - a warrior's reflexes were honed not to allow such things to be a distraction - but, rather, from the source of it. Slamming a fist down in frustration was much more like something he would do, and not his more level-headed friend. She keeps me centered. She keeps me focused. And he was leaving that all behind. Still, though...it was the right thing to do.

Sighing a little, Raynor reached over, pulling Ilana into a full embrace. He still felt, instinctively, a little bit of apprehension at doing so, considering the injuries he'd inflicted on her long ago. Their most recent time together had been less primal, less...violent...but still. It felt good to hold on to her, like this. It felt right.

"This...this is for the best, Lana. You'll see. There is a poem of Old Earth, about a mariner who curses his shipmates by his wanton killing of an albatross. His crew hangs the dead bird around his neck, blaming their bad luck on that act. I can't...I won't...be your albatross anymore."

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor jumped a little at the sound of her hand coming down on the tabletop.  Not so much at the noise of it - a warrior's reflexes were honed not to allow such things to be a distraction - but, rather, from the source of it.  Slamming a fist down in frustration was much more like something he would do, and not his more level-headed friend.  She keeps me centered.  She keeps me focused.  And he was leaving that all behind.  Still, though...it was the right thing to do.

Sighing a little, Raynor reached over, pulling Ilana into a full embrace.  He still felt, instinctively, a little bit of apprehension at doing so, considering the injuries he'd inflicted on her long ago.  Their most recent time together had been less primal, less...violent...but still.  It felt good to hold on to her, like this.  It felt right.

"This...this is for the best, Lana.  You'll see.  There is a poem of Old Earth, about a mariner who curses his shipmates by his wanton killing of an albatross.  His crew hangs the dead bird around his neck, blaming their bad luck on that act.  I can't...I won't...be your albatross anymore."

The hug was unexpected for Ilana, who found herself with her head resting against Raynor's chest and his arms around her. Then she hit him.

With the little strength that Ilana possessed against the solid muscle of a Klingon, the action was a little like a fly banging itself off a duranium wall. Pushing herself away, she glared at him for a moment before typing on the console, each strike on the keys precise and angry.

We had accidents. You are not to blame for them. I will not accept that you are to blame!

Ilana Telak wrote:

The hug was unexpected for Ilana, who found herself with her head resting against Raynor's chest and his arms around her.  Then she hit him.

With the little strength that Ilana possessed against the solid muscle of a Klingon, the action was a little like a fly banging itself off a duranium wall.  Pushing herself away, she glared at him for a moment before typing on the console, each strike on the keys precise and angry.

We had accidents.  You are not to blame for them.  I will not accept that you are to blame!

Raynor glanced down at Ilana as she punched him, more surprised than injured by the action. In fact, he was a bit concerned that she might be hurting her hand, punching things like tables, and his chest. "Accidents," he said, shaking his shaggy head. "I suppose you could call them that. But the fact remains...I've hurt you. Once is bad enough, but...twice? Kortar's balls, Lana! Every time we lose control of our senses...we can't keep our damned clothing on!"

So. It was coming out. Raynor hadn't wanted to have this conversation right this moment, but it seemed to be happening anyway. The best he could do was strap his metaphorical armor on and wade into it.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor glanced down at Ilana as she punched him, more surprised than injured by the action.  In fact, he was a bit concerned that she might be hurting her hand, punching things like tables, and his chest.  "Accidents," he said, shaking his shaggy head.  "I suppose you could call them that.  But the fact remains...I've hurt you.  Once is bad enough, but...twice?  Kortar's balls, Lana!  Every time we lose control of our senses...we can't keep our damned clothing on!"  

So.  It was coming out.  Raynor hadn't wanted to have this conversation right this moment, but it seemed to be happening anyway.  The best he could do was strap his metaphorical armor on and wade into it.

Neither could anyone else!

Ilana braced her hands against the console, trying to regulate her breathing and get her emotions back under control. This wasn't like her. This wasn't the quiet, shy, reserved person she usually was. Why did the Klingon bring this out in her?

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Why was she so upset about this? Was she so selfish that she didn't want to lose her only friend in the galaxy?

Her hands shook a little as she continued to type: It is supposed to hurt, I believe. You had experience and I had none. There is latent attraction in our relationship which, during such situations, cannot be denied. My injuries were not as severe last time.

Ilana Telak wrote:

Neither could anyone else!

Ilana braced her hands against the console, trying to regulate her breathing and get her emotions back under control.  This wasn't like her.  This wasn't the quiet, shy, reserved person she usually was.  Why did the Klingon bring this out in her?

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  Why was she so upset about this?  Was she so selfish that she didn't want to lose her only friend in the galaxy?

Her hands shook a little as she continued to type:  It is supposed to hurt, I believe.  You had experience and I had none.  There is latent attraction in our relationship which, during such situations, cannot be denied.  My injuries were not as severe last time.

Sighing, Raynor nodded. She had a fair point. Just about everyone had given in to whatever inhibitions they were keeping at bay, during the spore incident. "We did what we wanted to do, and weren't the only ones...that much is very true," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, cocking an upswept eyebrow at the Cardassian. "It's not really supposed to hurt, but...yes. The Klingon way often does. It is...as much a part of our culture, who we are, as...anything else, really." Except the other partner was supposed to hurt back. They weren't supposed to be a thin doctor who happened to also be your best friend.

And yet, that other partner had been just that. Twice, now. "Lana...I wanted to talk about this, but I'm not sure now is the best time." Fortunately, they were, for the most part, alone in the lab at this hour. He was still quite uncomfortable, which was a sensation that Raynor didn't really enjoy. The Klingon wasn't sure what brought on more discomfort - the fact that he'd hurt her, or the 'latent attraction' she'd mentioned.

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Sighing, Raynor nodded.  She had a fair point.  Just about everyone had given in to whatever inhibitions they were keeping at bay, during the spore incident.  "We did what we wanted to do, and weren't the only ones...that much is very true," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, cocking an upswept eyebrow at the Cardassian.  "It's not really supposed to hurt, but...yes.  The Klingon way often does.  It is...as much a part of our culture, who we are, as...anything else, really."  Except the other partner was supposed to hurt back.  They weren't supposed to be a thin doctor who happened to also be your best friend.

And yet, that other partner had been just that.  Twice, now.  "Lana...I wanted to talk about this, but I'm not sure now is the best time."  Fortunately, they were, for the most part, alone in the lab at this hour.  He was still quite uncomfortable, which was a sensation that Raynor didn't really enjoy.  The Klingon wasn't sure what brought on more discomfort - the fact that he'd hurt her, or the 'latent attraction' she'd mentioned.

The Cardassian's green eyes narrowed at Raynor before she turned and typed on the console again. And just when do you think would be a good time to have this conversation?

Turning back to glare at him, she folded her arms, tapping one foot, apparently just observing the Klingon for a long moment before a conclusion was obviously reached in her head.

You're running away from your problems.

Ilana Telak wrote:

The Cardassian's green eyes narrowed at Raynor before she turned and typed on the console again.  And just when do you think would be a good time to have this conversation?  

Turning back to glare at him, she folded her arms, tapping one foot, apparently just observing the Klingon for a long moment before a conclusion was obviously reached in her head.

You're running away from your problems.

Raynor felt the heat radiating from that emerald gaze, a long and silent glare. Well, everything about her was silent, but...had she the ability to speak, Raynor was pretty sure she still would have been quiet as the grave.

And then she spoke. Er, typed.

Her words caused both of the Klingon's eyebrows to shoot upward. Raynor crossed his arms over his broad chest, his face a thunderhead, hazel eyes seeming to be ready to shoot lightning. "Running away? Hardly!" he roared, stalking away from the desk and staring sullenly at the far side of the wall. Raynor turned on his heel, slamming his own fists down on Ilana's desk, rattling the computer terminal.

"A warrior does not run from problems! I don't have problems! I am doing this for your...for our own damn good!"

Raynor Hughes wrote:

Raynor felt the heat radiating from that emerald gaze, a long and silent glare.  Well, everything about her was silent, but...had she the ability to speak, Raynor was pretty sure she still would have been quiet as the grave.

And then she spoke.  Er, typed.

Her words caused both of the Klingon's eyebrows to shoot upward.  Raynor crossed his arms over his broad chest, his face a thunderhead, hazel eyes seeming to be ready to shoot lightning.  "Running away?  Hardly!" he roared, stalking away from the desk and staring sullenly at the far side of the wall.  Raynor turned on his heel, slamming his own fists down on Ilana's desk, rattling the computer terminal.

"A warrior does not run from problems!  I don't have problems!  I am doing this for your...for our own damn good!"

It took a lot of effort for Ilana not to jump back as Raynor decided to punch her desk, but she managed to hold her ground, still glaring at the Klingon.

For my good? Did you not think to consult me on what was good for me? She had picked up on his slip of the tongue. You are running because you think that you can keep from doing harm, but I hate to burst your bubble. Stay or go, you will do harm. That is the course of life! You have problems, whether you are willing to admit them or not, and they will follow you wherever you go!