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Samira Neathler

R. Admiral Reynolds & Cpt. Brunsig - A Father's Daughter

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@Quinn Reynolds Got to love Brunsig's insight on the Gorkon's crew. 🙂 

 

 

((Courtyard, Reichsburg Cochem, Earth))

 

::On her own for a few minutes, Quinn searched the crowd for her absent partner. She spied him after a short while; talking to Stoyer and Tereen and looking none too pleased about it. Like her, he wasn't someone who ever felt particularly at ease in large gatherings — and unlike her, he tended to express that in a very particular way. She considered wandering over to rescue him from the well-wishers, but he was perfectly capable of extracting himself if that was indeed what he wanted to do.

 

::That, and her attention had been captured by another of their guests. The Trill approaching her was a lovely woman, tall like her father, with his kind brown eyes and gentle smile. Falls of copper hair flowed, the tan of her markings stark against pale skin across her bare shoulders and shins. The knee-length blue dress was lovely, simple in design with beaded accents on the bodice and near the hemline.::

 

Reynolds: I wasn't sure you'd come.

 

Tam: I think Dad would haunt me if I didn't.

 

::Quinn smiled at her, the expression coloured with a touch of sorrow, one that was echoed in the other woman's eyes. Kael had been gone for years now, and every once in a while, that wound felt as raw as the first day. Times like this, when she would have loved to shared her happiness with a dear friend. Instead, she was sharing it with his daughter.::

 

Reynolds: I think that's a distinct possibility.

::Aimi laughed, a smile coming as easily to her as it always had her father. Warm brown eyes travelled across the reception, the guests and then back to Quinn.::

 

Tam: He would have liked to have been here.

 

Reynolds: I'm very pleased that you are. 

 

::Quinn hadn't know the girl well, prior to the Gorkon's misadventure into another universe. She'd known of her, of course, but it was only after their return and Kael's death that she'd come to know Aimi. They'd kept in contact; at first just exchanging memories of Kael to help one another with their grief, but over time it had evolved into conversations about what they were doing in the there and now.::

 

Reynolds: How's the academy going? 

 

Tam: Hard work, but you already know that. ::She smiled.:: Graduation seems altogether too close and too far away.  

 

::Having parted ways from Tereen and Stoyer — who, Quinn observed, had left the conversation with a face filled with thunder — Walter drew up beside her, his hand touching briefly to the small of her back and then coming to rest on her hip. He eyed the Trill Quinn was speaking to, then dipped his head in a curt nod of greeting.::

 

Brunsig: Aimi.

 

::She smiled back at him, and there in her eyes was the knowing look of good humour that Kael had so often worn. It pinched at Quinn's heart, and the hybrid couldn't quite tell if she liked or loathed it.::

 

Tam: Good to see you outside of a cell.

 

::He huffed, a rare and quiet sound of wry amusement, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. Walter regarded her for a long moment, then shook his head.::

 

Brunsig: You are annoyingly like your father.

 

Tam: ::She smiled warmly at him.:: Thank you.

 

Brunsig: Case in point.

 

::Cutting in to their repartee, Quinn nudged Walter with her shoulder. Tall as he was, she could still see her mission specialist through the crowds, and from his taut body language she got the sense he was still stewing over whatever had been exchanged between the two.::

 

Reynolds: What did you say to Stoyer?

 

Brunsig: "For what", "now that tedious social obligation is completed, off you trot", "disperse".

 

::He ticked off each of the sentences with an extended thumb and fingers. Quinn sighed, shaking her head. On the Brunsig Scale of Rude that was relatively mild, but she could see how Stoyer might have been embarrassed by it.::

 

Reynolds: You infuriated him in three sentences. That must be a record.

 

Brunsig: I'm a high achiever, Cupcake. ::He shrugged, not caring in the least.:: But my personal best is one.

 

::Of that she had no doubt. He smirked at her, his steel-blue gaze flickering out among the crowd, locating Stoyer and Tereen. They'd been joined by Neathler, and given the glances sent in his direction, it seemed for at least for a time the topic of conversation was Walter. He did have a tendency to set himself up for it, sometimes even delighted doing so, but the idea he was being sniped about at his own wedding reception made a leaden stone settle in her stomach.::

 

Brunsig: He knows exactly who I am, Quinn, he knew exactly what to expect. It wasn't about me, that was all for the next ex-wife he had in tow. ::He [...]ed his head to the side, pouting his lips in mock sympathy.:: "Oh, poor Cory. Wasn't the mean, bad man so very mean and bad. Let me kiss your... ego... better." ::He rolled his eyes.:: I only gave him what wanted.

 

::Aimi bit her lip, though Quinn couldn't quite tell if she was holding back a laugh or disapproval. Quinn was swallowing down a mix of both, knowing she shouldn't find it funny and yet was struggling to keep a straight face. From the sly curl at the corner of Walter's lips, he damn well knew it, too.::

 

Reynolds: Yes. Well. ::She cleared her throat.:: Now that you're done playing the Curmudgeonly Cupid—

 

::The music on the stage drew their collective attention. Where there had been the soft melodies of a string quartet, there was now the ring of plucked harp strings accompanying the piano, in a somewhat eerie choice of key; F# Major, if she wasn't mistaken. A few bars in, the harpist's voice joined the instruments, and she heard an impatient sigh erupt from the blonde standing next to her.:: 

 

Brunsig: Is there a single member of your crew who isn't determined to make our wedding reception about them?

 

::Perhaps it was starting to feel a little bit like that, what with congratulations quickly shifting into tales of missing sons, lovers tiffs and outrage at Walter acting like Walter. She absently toyed with the neckline of her dress, recognising the words of the song. They reminded her of Harry, who'd been known to quote Tennyson when they'd been a couple, and that drew out an awkward smile. He was at the party, somewhere, tactfully keeping out of Walter's path as he minded Amelia and Dylan.::

 

Reynolds: He did ask if he could play something. 

 

::Truth be told, the reception was for just about everyone but them. They were private people, neither of whom enjoyed the fuss. Initially, they'd both been leaning toward a quiet ceremony and dinner to celebrate afterwards — if that. But there were family and friends who expected (and in some cases, demanded) the chance to celebrate. As strident as both could be in command, sometimes it was just easier to take the path of least resistance in personal affairs. Enduring one uncomfortable evening was easier than weeks, months or even years of earache for not having one at all. 

 

::And so they had compromised. A quiet ceremony for them, and a big reception to keep everyone else happy.::

 

Brunsig: Well, once Boy Wonder up there has finished murdering his harp, would you like to dance? If we're lucky it'll keep the well-wishers away for a few minutes.

 

Reynolds: That's why I married you. Walter Brunsig, the eternal optimist.

 

::His gaze snapped away from her, toward the copper-haired young woman who was grinning at them both. Holding up a warning finger, he raised an eyebrow in the Trill's direction.::

 

Brunsig: Don't do it, Tam.

 

Tam: I can't help it. You are kind of adorable together.

 

::Quinn chuckled, even as Walter let loose an exasperated sigh. At the dying notes of Xerix's song, he dropped his hand from her waist, catching her fingers between his. As their fingers entangled, so too did their thoughts, and she was buffeted by a complicated mix of affection, insecurity, devotion and frustration. Stealing a little while together without interruptions, even if it was only for the length of a song, was something they both needed.::

 

Reynolds: At the risk of being more adorable, would you excuse us, Aimi? I'd like to dance with my husband.

 

Tam: There's a few people here I'd like to say hello to. ::She just kept grinning at the pair, beginning her retreat.:: Enjoy.

 

::Quinn breathed a quiet laugh and squeezed Walter's hand, walking alongside him to join the other dancers. With a sly smile, he lifted their hands as they stepped onto the dance floor, turning her in a languid spin before drawing her close, the two musicians finding the rhythm with ease.::

 

--
Rear Admiral Quinn Reynolds
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0
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