Permission (a Star Trek TNG Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

"Cornered"

I wandered through the doors of Ten Foreward at around two in the morning. After a quick sweep of my eyes told me the bar was empty, I let out a long breath. In the comfort of the apparent stillness, I stepped up to the bar and plopped myself down onto a stool, settling my head on the table between the protection of my folded arms.

I'd decided my conversation with Data an hour or so before had been growing far too 'shoot-the-messenger-y' to be fair to him, so I'd given him a brief, but clear apology for my behaviour and before fleeing from my own quarters before he could respond. Had it been a professional choice? Probably not. But, it was what I'd thought was best at the time, so I'd just have to live with it.
Can't win 'em all, I guess.

Wandering the ship had lead to wandering thoughts, which I couldn't stand for, so I'd opted for the bar. At this hour, I knew it would be quiet for the most part, which was nice, but it had one benefit that aimlessly meandering didn't-

"I'd ask if you were having trouble sleeping, but you seem to be getting along just fine at the moment." A smooth voice said.

I didn't have to look up to know who it was, but I did so anyways to give the woman my best attempt at a guiless expression.

"Y'know, I have an ongoing theory about that, actually. I never seem to have trouble with it when you're around; I think you're just really good at putting people to sleep." I said, thoughtfully.

Across the counter, she gave me a tired look, but I could tell she was suppressing a smile.

I allowed a little giggle to roll through me and then spoke, "Kidding. Had a long day- Got anything new for me?"

The woman shook her head slightly at my behaviour, finally allowing the corners of her lips to lift. "Always do." She said.  Disappearing beneath the counter, she the  returned with two small glasses and a couple of bottles. "Do you wanna' talk about it?" The woman asked, setting to work on her latest concoction.

I grimaced, moving my eyes to rest on the far wall.

Guinan was the bartender on the Enterprise by choice, a make-shift therapist by happenstance, and a complete mystery to me by, admittedly, a lack of effort on my end.

She was a woman of low-average height with flawless, deep, golden-brown skin, and understated, yet immaculate taste in clothing. At the moment, she wore an emerald green ensemble, with a simple, flowing dress and a large hat that's style resembled a flying saucer atop a head-wrap. Dark dreadlocks rested neatly at her back from beneath the hat, and were the only glimpse of hair she usually showed.
Now, had you held a phaser to my head, I'd of told you she was in her thirties, but that would only be based on shallow observations.
Because her eyes gleamed with the spark belonging to someone far older, and her smile held the kind of soft, resigned pain only someone with many, many years of loss could know.
But, like I said, she was a mystery to me, as I had yet to really confirm anything about her.
Mainly because I never asked. We didn't have that kind of relationship. And I was content with that.

'I wasn't capable of that kind of relationship', I reminded myself.

Besides, I only ever saw her in Ten Forward, mostly at odd hours of the morning and night. I didn't really know her, and she didn't really know me. We bantered, I drank, she asked questions, I deflected- That was about the extent of our meetings.
Or, at least, it had been.
But, predictability had never exactly been Guinan's specialty, and poker had never been mine.
So, inevitably, we came to a crossroads.

Guinan finished pouring both drinks, and slid one to me. The noise of the glass caught my attention again, and I glanced back away from the wall.

I took the drink, picking it up to peer through the glass. It was a pale yellow. I swirled it a few times before giving it a little sniff. "Lemony." I commented, lamely.