Secrets and Lies

History

          Under Christine's careful eye and command, the ship pulled from the harbor fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Everyone was accounted for, everyone seemed to be respectfully accepting of their berth assignments, and despite Rourke having gotten handsy once again, things were going well for Christine. As the ship headed out into the open water, she raced to the stern on the main deck; watching as the sun began to rise over San Diego. She had always enjoyed sunrises and all the hope they brought with them of a new beginning; a fresh start. Right now, she needed one.

   A deck below, James paused watching the sunrise as well; taking just a moment as he headed along the tween deck toward the berth he'd been assigned to admire its beauty. It felt like forever since he had just stood and allowed the warmth of those first rays to wash over him. Maybe that was for the best though, as he was quickly pulled back to that tree once again. A small smile tugged at his face as he thought about those sunrises and sunsets, wrapped in the warmth of her body as a soft breeze kissed his bare skin causing gooseflesh.

    "Mr. Conrad?" A rich, warm baritone called out to him. James turned to find Andrew Hawkins standing a few feet away. "I never got the chance to properly introduce myself; thought it might be smart seeing as you're Doctor Shannon's unofficial left hand."

    James smirked at that. "I don't know about all of that, but I appreciate the trust. Christine said you're former infantry?"

    "Second Infantry, Tonggu Ri."

    "You saw a lot of death. I don't envy you."

    "Way I hear it, you've seen your fair share too."

    Memories once more flashed through his mind; though if he was unnerved by them, Andrew had no idea. "Rank?"

    "Staff Sergeant; nothing exciting. Heard you made Captain."

    "I did," the former British SAS officer smirked, sizing Andrew up and down; though he didn't have to look up much as the two men were nearly eye to eye. While he was a personable man, there was no denying that the former staff sergeant could have easily ripped him in half. It seemed James wasn't the only one who had had a hard time shaking the old habits. "Your accent... It's familiar."

    "Louisiana. Tremé, to be exact. Born and raised there. Hoping to go back someday."

    "I'm sure it's lovely."

    "It's old-world New Orleans. No place like it. You like creole food?"

    "I do," James chuckled softly, slowly beginning to understand exactly why this man had won Christine over. Though he couldn't understand why she'd date that paleontologist over Andrew. "What's your tie to Doctor Shannon?"

    "She took a chance on me when most others would turn their noses up." He smiled faintly at James' confused look. "Black men don't get chances like this no matter what the government wants us to think. While we've come a ways I'm not about to be fooled by how little has changed."

    "And Christine?"

    "She saw me; not a fantasy or a stereotype... She saw me, a humble Black man who wanted to learn and she not only accepted me but made sure that thirst for knowledge was fed for no other reason than to see someone else beat the odds. Not something most white folk would do."

    A small smirk tugged at James' thin lips and he nodded. "She has a talent for that; seeing people's true potential."

    "Doctor Shannon is good people. She's not afraid to sit in her own discomfort to make sure she understands how, where, and why she's messed up on the rare instance she does; not a lot of people are willing to do that, no matter the color of their skin."

   "Skin color's never mattered much to either of us."

   "Begging your pardon, Captain, but that's a very privileged stance to take. One that I'm happy to say Doctor Shannon doesn't share with you or the many others who fall into that mindset. One of her best qualities if you ask me; the way she doesn't want to fall into the same thought processes of those privileged to not have to worry about things way me and mine do. She sees the world while straddling that line between being aware of her privilege and understanding the pitfalls of having grown up impoverished. Gives her a humility not many folks have." James nodded, though he had to admit he didn't fully understand. Perhaps he wasn't meant to. "She's what I wish more people were; got a heart of gold but the strike of a viper. God help anyone who thinks they can mess with her or those she calls friends or family."

    "Throws a mean right hook from what I remember," James smirked.

    Andrew nodded, grinning back. "I imagine that that good nature of hers is why she likes and speaks so highly of you. She told all of us of your unfailing loyalty and dedication to making sure no man was left behind; not exactly traits you find in a mercenary," Andrew muttered, his left eyebrow raised.

    James chuckled, lighting a cigarette with a soft shrug. He took a long drag before responding, making sure he chose his words carefully. "Man's got to make a living, as they say. As for loyalty and dedication, it was something I learned a long time ago when I made a rather large mistake. One I never want to make again." Andrew noted how calm he was, his tone even despite his earlier laugh. It was different from the night before and as James continued to speak, he wondered if the former SAS officer was as at peace as he wanted those around him to believe.

    "I sense a similar mistake to that of the one Doctor Shannon seems to carry. I hear you two have a history?"

    Hesitating, he let out a slow, steady stream of smoke. "Yeah. You could say that." The two men exchanged a look, each sensing that there was something unspoken beneath the façade, yet neither willing to acknowledge it. Perhaps it was the sense of mutual respect for their service to their countries, or the way they were bonded through their respect for Christine; he wasn't sure, but he didn't mind it either. "Why'd you leave the army, if you don't mind my asking?"

    "Didn't much care for staining the ground with the blood of the innocent," Andrew admitted gently. "Truth be told, I wanted to be a medic. White folk didn't exactly trust someone like me to care for them; most still don't. Plants though... Plants they'll let me care for."

    Taking a moment to process what had just been said, James couldn't help but acknowledge the pain in Andrew's voice. He'd heard similar pain in Christine's years ago when she'd talked about how people saw her, her dreams, and their thoughts on her capabilities. While James had no first-hand understanding and wouldn't pretend to, he could admit to feeling a deep sense of empathy for both Hawkins and Christine. Neither of them had deserved to be judged so harshly. He could see why Hawkins preferred plants and Christine her dirt; they didn't judge your skin, past, or background.

    Tossing his cigarette over the edge of the ship, James offered Andrew a small nod. "You wouldn't be able to show me to our cabin, would you?" Smirking, Andrew nodded in the direction they needed to go, that same comfortable silence he shared with Christine filling the air between him and James.


           Word had gotten around that the leaders of the expedition wanted to host a meeting after dinner. While many were unsure what this meeting would pertain to, not a single person could complain about Vincenzo's meal. The man had spent the entirety of his time aboard the Atlantis prepping not only dinner but breakfast for the following morning. As he dished out hot mushroom soup, garlic bread, and edamame beans with a sandwich station for those who preferred to the right, the tall Italian winked at each lady that he served. It roused mostly smiles from the women around his age but the geography student, Audrey Sinclair, giggled like the school girl she was. From the look on the chef's face, he didn't find it, or her, nearly as amusing as she had hoped.

    Pouting, Audrey followed close behind her mentor Helga as they came to join James, Andrew, and Montgomery at one of the long mess tables. Helga gave him a polite nod before she sat down beside Montgomery and began to talk with him. The young blonde took a seat directly across from James, leaning forward immediately to offer him not just her hand but a glance down her low-cut black tank top.

    "Hi, I'm Audrey."

    "Hi," James replied flatly.

    "Aren't you going to tell me your name," she asked, far too flirtatiously.

    "Conrad."

    "Cute. It suits you."

    James didn't answer, he simply ate more of his soup while the girl watched him and twisted her body as if she was trying to expose a nipple discreetly for him. A part of him wanted to play along and for a moment that part of him thought about it heavily. She was a kid though, fifteen years his junior; still, something about her was tempting... And he hated that it was.

    "Conrad... You're the guy who's going to protect me on that island; make sure nothing goes wrong, right?"

    He smirked. She was good. "Yeah. Yeah, that's me."

    "Well, then we should get to know one another a little better; make sure you know my... weaknesses."

    Slowly, he stopped eating. His eyes locked with her brown ones and he had to admit that her lips were tempting. They weren't as full as Christine's and there was a strange overly pouted look to them that made him wonder if the California girl before him had had them augmented. Americans were strange and this one was trouble; the way she ran her foot up his leg with a playful glint in her eye told him so. He smirked back at her; what the hell, there was nothing wrong with a little eye fucking, so long as he didn't take it further than that.

    Audrey bit her lip and leaned back a little, squeezing her arms to her ribcage to give her small but perky breasts some added volume. James couldn't help but notice her nipples growing erect beneath the thin black material of her shirt. Trouble was indeed what this girl was made of and he had always enjoyed trouble.

    A tray was set down on Audrey's left, rousing them both from their not-so-subtle flirting. Christine sat down beside her as Joshua Sweetwater sat down on James' right. "Hey," Joshua smiled, cheerful as ever; "I need you, Mason, and San to come down to the sick bay so I can do your physicals. You too Audrey."

    The twenty-one-year-old whined. "Are there going to be needles? I hate needles."

    "Just a quick blood draw."

    Audrey pouted further, her foot running up James' leg once more as she smirked. "Maybe Conrad can hold my hand? I'm sure a big, strong man like you isn't afraid of needles." Christine let out a loud snort hearing that. She apologized softly sipping her tea to hide her smirk.

    "I'm actually terrified of needles," James muttered after a long moment of silence.

    "You are?"