Editing The Sharp End of the Stick

<br><span style="color:#800000"> '''''This came together fairly quickly, though it didn't get posted nearly as fast thanks to my being slammed busy. Even so, I had fun doing this one. Thanks, Andy!—Maer'''''</span><br><br><br>

'''Tuesday, 10 Jul 2525'''<br>
'''Acropolis, Athens'''<br>
'''Georgia (Huang Long) system'''<br><br>

Vikki puttered in her machine shop, fiddling with this and that, debating what to do with the syringe applicator she'd made. To be sure, they might need to sedate the bull again so it would be best if she kept it as it was, but she couldn't find a way to stow it to her satisfaction.  She meandered from one end of the shop to the other, turning the long pole this way and that, sizing it against a possible storage space and, finding it lacking an indefinable something, moving on. As the minutes approached the quarter-hour mark, she grew frustrated at her indecision. She suspected the cause but was reluctant to acknowledge it. It was too disheartening to admit the incident at dinner that much power over her … but she couldn't deny it had upset her. That frustrated her as well. <br><br>

''I'm supposed to be past all this. I'm supposed to be a professional. I'm supposed to be a lot of things I'm currently not, apparently, because I can't even make up my mind where to stow a damned stick, for Pete's sake …''<br><br> 

She refused to give up and leave the shop until she stowed that stick properly, however. Leaving things rattling round loose tended to backfire in the best of situations and as much as ''Delilah'' had improved over the past couple of months, the situation aboard wasn't yet what Vikki would judge the best. The last thing she wanted was to have that syringe go flying across a compartment and stabbing someone in the eye and blinding them for life. So she'd find a place to stow that stick even if it killed her, dammit.<br><br>

She wasn't a quitter and she wasn't going to cause trouble. ''So … stowing it.''<br><br>

"Knock, knock." Val faked the motion of knocking on the door frame space to Vikki's machine shop as he leaned in. He had figured best to broach her in her own space. Tian said Vikki had been hurt by showing up with Mary Ann at the same restaurant as the crew in an unfortunate coincidence ('''Or was it?' Tian's voice muttered in his head''). Val knew it wasn't technically his fault, but he felt bad and he wanted to check in on her...assuming she wanted to be checked in on.<br><br>

"Do you have a moment to talk? It's perfectly okay if the answer is no. I'd understand." The brief hint of a smile passed across his otherwise serious face.<br><br>

Vikki turned at Valentine's knock and stood with the long stick crosswise in front of her. Suddenly aware how it might look, she laid it flat across the hood of her lathe and leaned against the machine. "No, it's okay," she said. Roughly twenty feet of shop separated them and it seemed too little and too much at once. Raking her hair back with one hand before crossing her arms, Vikki asked, "What's up?"<br><br>

"I wanted to apologize for last night. It wasn't intentional on my part, but that doesn't absolve me of anything. So if you want to beat me with that stick," and Val motioned to the stick she had just put down, "I wouldn't stop you." A brief moment of thought. "Well, not until I reached not quite critical injury point. Don't want to make the doctor any more upset with me."<br><br>

"I wouldn't dream of it," Vikki said, somewhat appalled. ''Why would he think I'd … ? Geez, this is worse than I thought.'' "I'm not angry at you, Val. You don't have to apologize. You haven't done anything." <br><br> 
 
"You don't have to be angry for me to apologize, Vikki. Tian said I made you upset."<br><br>

"She said that?" Vikki bit her lip and grimaced at the floor, then turned a contrite smile up at him. "I wish she hadn't. ''You'' didn't make me upset. Mary Ann Valmont did. You're not her keeper, though, and you couldn't have anticipated what she'd say or how it would make me feel. She's free to say what she wants.  I'm free to decide how to take it." Vikki tipped her head to one side and looked at Valentine with no small amount of puzzlement. She couldn't deny the little melt-y spot in her heart knowing he felt responsible but it worried her that he did. It suggested an imposition she wanted to avoid. "You're a good man who can be trusted to do the right thing but I don't expect you to bend over backwards on my account where it concerns your private life. That's a line I won't cross. Your private life is ''yours''. You should enjoy it as you like. You should go where you like with whomever you like and do whatever you like. It was just pure blind luck you and she showed up at the same place we did.  It's ''okay'', Val. I don't expect the Universe to bubble-wrap its sharp corners to spare my feelings til I toughen up again. Really, it's okay."<br><br>

"The actions and events of the night made you upset," he clarified. It wasn't that he somehow thought the world or Vikki revolved around him. But when his actions hurt someone, he felt responsible. "But I will take you at your word."<br><br>

"That said," he continued on, "I'll do my best to keep my private life exactly that. Private."<br><br>

"And now I have to apologize," Vikki sighed. She'd gone too far and had made him feel pushed away, rebuked for something genuinely nice. "I didn't mean to make you feel your apology wasn't appreciated, Val. It is. I do. I just … I don't want you feel like you'd done anything wrong or that I wanted anything out of you because of it. That's not right or fair."<br><br>

"Good lord, we're horrible." Val chuckled. "Look, we're two adult human beings. I consider my apology accepted, don't worry about me. In return, I'll assume you're the smart, capable woman you are and that you're fine and will continue to be fine." If he didn't say something, the two of them could do this apology dance all day.<br><br>

That got a laugh out of Vikki. "Horrible? Probably, yeah," she agreed, feeling lighter inside now that she was sure she hadn't hurt him. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted. "Thanks, Val. And I'm glad, really and truly glad for you."<br><br>

He frowned a little bit. "Don't read too much into me and Mary Ann. Back to that two adult human beings thing. We have a good time together." Which they did. "But I'm not going to be setting up house with her or anything." ''Although she had been a little more possessive than he would have liked.''<br><br>
 
Vikki internally sighed. Again, he'd misunderstood. Or maybe she hadn't made herself clear. "Whether she's Ms. Right or Ms. ''Right Now'', it doesn't change the fact I'm glad for you. You hold yourself alone, Val. I've seen the type before. I know the marks. I know how it ends. I want better for you. So you and Mary Ann enjoying each other? ''Good''." Vikki glanced at the deck before looking again. "I'm probably crossing the line by saying that, but I thought I should let you know. Just so you understand where I'm coming from."<br><br>

Val shook his head. "Not crossing the line and I appreciate it." Had he lost his touch that much that he couldn't make a simple read like that? Or was it that Vikki threw him off specifically?<br><br>

He smiled briefly just to let Vikki know he wasn't upset. "Then unless you need me for something official, I'll get out of your hair." He was careful to use the word official in that sentence.<br><br>
 
Vikki felt the mood shift and the words acquired the weight of a finish.  Considerably relieved she hadn't transgressed she gave him a sunny smile that reached her eyes. "Me and my hair are fine," she said. <br><br> 
 
"Just make sure to let me know if they're not." And with that, he ducked out of the door frame to head back towards the plethora of other problems on Delilah, hoping the rest of them could be solved that easily.<br><br>

Vikki watched him go, thinking that perhaps Mary Ann Valmont had done her a favor. The woman had meant to wound her with her sly compliments, but after the conversation with Valentine, Vikki felt much better.  A favorite adage of her mother's whispered from memory: ''In winning, you lose. In giving, you gain.''  As for the stick? Vikki grabbed her duct tape. She'd tape it to the bulkhead near the bull's enclosure. There was always more than one way to get the job done. <br><br>

As she left the machine shop, she chuckled. The bull, the stick, the tape … as a metaphor for her heart, it worked, in a wacky sort of way. Sometimes the sharp end of the stick is just what you needed to get you moving in the right direction. By the time she hit the stairs down, she was smiling and when she slapped the last bit of tape to the wall, she was whistling. They'd be lifting off soon and leaving Athens behind. Vikki knew that when they did, a good deal of her troubles would be left behind, too.<br><br>



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