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JP: Lieutenant T'Ama & PNPC Henrietta & Elmore Beck - I Am Not Okay


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I love the interaction @TAma had with her future inlaws as written by @Quentin Beck It explains so much about the good doctor. 

 

Quote

((Beck Family Residence, Riverside, CA, Earth))

 

The motorcycle roared into the driveway of the farmhouse on the outskirts of Riverside. T’Ama cut the engine and took off her helmet, shaking out her dark hair. She eyed the house, carefully secluded from its neighbors. She probably shouldn’t have been driving a motorcycle quite so soon after having her entire eye replaced. The swelling had mostly gone down, and a bit more makeup than usual covered the worst of the green bruising, but she was still getting used to the feel of the prosthetic in her face and the little differences in sight.

 

oO Quentin owes me for this. Big time. Oo

 

The front door opened inwards and a woman peered curiously through the screened in storm door. No doubt the motorcycle had heralded her arrival.

 

Henrietta: Hellooo—oooh? Oh! If it isn't my Quentin's little friend, T'Ama!

 

The door opened with a creak before slapping shut again a moment later, the aging woman practically flinging herself down the walk so she could pull T'Ama into as big a hug as she could muster.

 

T’Ama: Hi, Mrs. Beck.

 

T’Ama stiffened and grabbed the motorcycle so it wouldn’t tip over as the older woman enthusiastically hugged her. She hadn’t even gotten off the thing yet.

 

Henrietta: ::not letting go:: It's so nice to see you, dear! Especially after all of that craziness - they've been going on and on about it on the news. ::pulling back to look her in the eye and raising a hand to cup her face:: Are you alright?

 

T’Ama flushed a slight shade of green at the question and braced herself mentally when the woman’s hand touched her face. The hugging was bad enough but the skin to skin contact was far too overly familiar for the Vulcan sensibilities still annoyingly ingrained in her. Fortunately she only got vague feelings of concern from her instead of her entire mind.

 

T’Ama: I’m fine.

 

T’Ama briefly worried that she was asking because she could tell the new eye was not quite the same as the natural one. She had it set to mimic the eye she lost but she could tell it wasn’t a real eye if she got close enough to it, and Henrietta was definitely close up. To her face.

 

Elmore's pinched face glowered into existence just inside the storm door, his glare palpable as he studied the pair of women.

 

Elmore: What in blazes are you doin' on my property?

 

T’Ama glared back at the sour old man.

 

T'Ama: Visiting! What’s it look like?!

 

Henrietta: ::glaring at Elmore:: Don't you worry about him, dear. ::turning to smile at her again and patting her hand:: He's just disappointed Quentin couldn't visit. It was very nice to hear from him, though, when he called that day.

 

T’Ama continued to stare daggers at Elmore. Disappointed her ass. It was his fault Quentin was even in Sector 001 in the first place. If he hadn’t have been, he wouldn’t have had to shoot his own hand off. T’Ama imagined how nice it would be to curb stomp Elmore into the pavement, her hand reflexively curling with the fantasy and accidentally revving the motorcycle.

 

T'Ama: ::mumbling:: Sorry.

 

Henrietta almost dragged her off the motorcycle, pulling at her arm. She hastily turned it off, hopping on one foot to keep her balance as Quentin’s mom dragged her off.

 

Henrietta: Come, come, come on inside. I was just making a pie. I can make you something to eat, you must be starving.

 

T'Ama: Yeah, okay.

 

She followed Henrietta towards the house, eyes down. She was rattled by how intensely violent that urge was. The only similarly strong violent urge was when she’d slapped Is’Kah. She had really wanted to kill Is’Kah then, just like she really wanted to kill Elmore. Who had thankfully vacated the doorway by the time they got there and made their way into the house, storm door banging shut behind them.

 

Elmore was not more than a pair of heels disappearing up the stairs as they entered the house proper, his voice muffled as he mumbled something incomprehensible. Henrietta ignored that, instead tucking T'Ama's arm into hers and petting her hand as she pulled her towards the kitchen.

 

Henrietta: I've been busy making a rhubarb pie, but I'm sure you need something more robust for a meal. What would you like, dear? 

 

The house smelled like… humans. Slightly musty, like menthol and food. Henrietta led her left into the kitchen where the table and counters were covered in flour and mixing bowls and other baking things, along with all the normal dishes and spices and accumulated junk that permanently lived as clutter.

 

T’Ama: Something vegetarian.

 

She took a seat at the kitchen table, which was covered in one of those thick plastic tablecloths with a fuzzy back in a design of lemons and leaves.

 

Henrietta was in her element here, it seemed; she puttered about the kitchen but somehow made it look graceful as she stepped over or around the clutter that had overflowed onto the floor. It was obvious she had been baking for days, with several pies resting on the windowsill in various stages of decay.

 

Henrietta: You know, that's not normally what we have around here, but since my boy started bringing you around I started growing some of my own vegetables so I could be prepared to make you something. I happened to pick up some other veggies from the store yesterday, too.

 

She cleared a spot on one of the counters by simply sweeping the plates and ingredients to the side with her arm, knocking over a few things in the process but ignoring the clinking of plates against each other. She got out a cutting board and moved to the pantry, opening it up and leaning in to start plucking at vegetables.

 

T'Ama's eyes grew wide as Henrietta shoved the clutter aside heedlessly. Tension set into her shoulders as she anticipated a dish falling, though none did.

 

T'Ama: That's… very considerate. You didn't have to do that.

 

Slowly rising from her seat, she crept towards the pies on the windowsill, peering carefully at them. She craned to see out the window where several pies lay on the ground, savaged by animals and gravity.

 

Henrietta: Why wouldn't I? Quennie is so fond of you and you've been by enough times by now, you feel like part of the family. ::leaning out of the pantry to look at her:: Cheese okay?

 

The gesture was ruined by the fact that his family was clearly just as crazy as her own - more so now than she remembered. T'Ama's eyes flitted across the room. His parent's house had always been too cluttered for Vulcan tastes, but this was on another level. A disturbing level.

 

T'Ama: Yeah, cheese is okay… Are you okay?

 

Henrietta didn't seem to register the question as she leaned back into the pantry for a moment before standing and closing it with her foot. She balanced two heads of cauliflower in one arm and a box of breadcrumbs in the other, humming a nameless tune to herself as she crossed back to the cutting board. 

 

Henrietta: Parmesan Cauliflower, coming right up! Oh, I can make you my own special red sauce recipe, how exciting is that!

 

It was pretty clear to T’Ama that Henrietta was in denial and maybe a little manic. She took a deep breath to recenter herself and fight off her own anxious urge to start cleaning the entire kitchen. She mentally projected a feeling of trust and safety, willing the El-Aurian part of her forward. She grabbed both of Henrietta's hands, redirecting her to a chair.

 

T’Ama: Mrs. Beck, you are not fine. There are four pies outside the window and another three growing mold. Tell me about it.

 

Quentin's mother had only just set down the items she'd been carrying when T'Ama took her hands and she looked at the young lady with confusion. She glanced over at the windowsill, brow creasing in the same way Quentin's would, and the happy aire she'd been projecting dropped ever so slightly as she looked back at her again.

 

Henrietta: I… need to make sure there's something for Quennie to eat. For when he comes by. Elmore told me he should be coming any time now. Such a good boy, taking time out of his busy schedule to come visit his mother…

 

T'Ama's mouth turned down into a worried frown. This was illogical on an entirely different level than she was used to. Usually other species were illogical in the sort of way where they simply had different priorities, but this seemed like it was less rooted in reality than normal.

 

T'Ama: ::gently:: Quennie isn't going to starve to death in the time it takes you to cook him a meal. You don't need to have something constantly ready.

 

She withdrew her hands from T'Ama's before sliding out of the chair and bustling back towards the cutting board, her hands shaking a little. She picked up one of the heads of cauliflower to wash it off, her breathing a little shaky, too.

 

T'Ama: What's actually wrong?

 

Setting the vegetable back down, she kept her hand on top of it and her back to T'Ama, her shoulders shrinking in a little. When she spoke, her voice was small.

 

Henrietta: So many people died…so many Starfleet. It's not supposed to be dangerous - it's supposed to be an opportunity…

 

Crap. This was definitely above her paygrade. This woman needed a counselor and T’Ama didn't know if what she could think of to say would invalidate her feelings or if validating them would make them worse. Mostly she just wanted to call her grandmother to ask what to do. Faye had survived a couple centuries in and around Starfleet, but it was just that: survived.

 

T'Ama: Opportunities are rarely completely safe, Mrs. Beck. Otherwise they wouldn't be opportunities. 

 

Henrietta: He told me I didn't need to worry…

 

T’Ama knew she was avoiding the big topic: Frontier Day. It lurked in the corner of her mind she had banished it to and did her best to ignore. Henrietta was probably doing the same, but wasn't nearly as good at pretending she was okay.

 

T’Ama: Alright, okay. Let's try something else. Usually people get really upset because they feel a certain way about something but they also think they shouldn't feel that way about it. So what I want you to do is feel your feelings, and then tell yourself you're allowed to feel that way.

 

It wasn't so much that Henrietta chose not to look at T'Ama - it was more that she naturally chose to avoid looking at T'Ama, which was a subtle distinction but made a little more obvious by the way her shoulders tensed. She picked up the knife next to the cutting board and sliced off the end of the cauliflower.

 

Henrietta: That's a silly suggestion. I'm not feeling anything I wouldn't normally feel.

 

T’Ama: I swear to Surak it works. Just try it. You have to really mean it. Radically accept whatever you feel and don't judge yourself for it.

 

She had only just started cutting the vegetable in half before she stopped again, her eyes closing slowly as she inhaled a deep breath. She let it out very slowly, her lips forming a little 'o', before her eyes opened again. Some of the tension had drained from her shoulders and she wasn't shaking quite so visibly.

 

Henrietta: That was… easier than I expected.

 

T’Ama: Now how do you feel?

 

Henrietta: I–

 

Elmore's voice cut through to interrupt them; he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his brow knit with annoyance.

 

Elmore: It's none of your damn business how she feels, T'Lomo.

 

T’Ama: Alright, well nobody's talking to you. Why don't you quit lying to your wife and driving her insane?

 

Henrietta's shoulders tensed again and her jaw grew taut, but she didn't say anything at first. Elmore took a step into the kitchen, raising his chin defiantly.

 

Elmore: Who in hell do you think you are, coming into my house and talking to me like that? Just because you're another one of Quentin's foolish mistakes–

 

Henrietta turned suddenly on them both, brandishing the knife and stalking towards Elmore, her voice rising in intensity as she moved.

 

Henrietta: Elmore Aloysius Beck, you leave that poor girl alone. I'm sick and tired of you beating up Quentin and his friends because you can't handle the fact he's smarter than you and making better of himself than you could ever manage!

 

Elmore nearly jumped out of his skin at that, turning a little to face Henrietta, looking very surprised. He actually took a step back as she approached, hands raising slightly as if to protect himself. His face, red as a cherry, turned as he looked from her to T'Ama and back again before he suddenly retreated out of the kitchen without so much as a grumble.

 

Henrietta seethed there for a moment, still clutching the knife, her chest rising and falling slowly as she caught her breath. Then she let out a sigh, raising her free hand to swipe her fingers over her cheek to wipe away a line of tears that had just started to fall. She sniffed before looking to T'Ama.

 

Henrietta: Sorry. You didn't need to see that.

 

T’Ama had watched that whole thing wide eyed. Quentin had always spoken of his mother like she was meek and always needing care and protection. But this woman came at him with a knife and T’Ama was maybe a little bit impressed. And also re-evaluating just who the hell Henrietta Beck was.

 

T'Ama: Oh damn. You're spicier than you seem.

 

Whatever mania had come over her previously seemed to be gone as she studied her guest. Then she turned to approach the counter, setting the knife down before turning to sit at the table again, wiping her hands dry on her apron.

 

Henrietta: Quentin… he's my rock. Things have been hard with him gone.

 

T’Ama’s eyes cut to the kitchen door as if expecting round two, though her ears told her he was somewhere deeper in the house again.

 

T'Ama: ::speaking lowly:: Well you have to put up with that guy. You know he's the reason Quentin doesn't like coming home, right?

 

She re-focused on projecting her aura. She had gotten distracted in the altercation.

 

Henrietta: ::sighing:: Yes, I know.

 

T’Ama: Why? Why haven't you left him?

 

If T’Ama had any qualms about breaking up her best friend’s parent’s marriage, it was mostly in what a vengeful Elmore would do to her.

 

Henrietta looked wistfully at the door, her eyes softening a little before she shrugged.

 

Henrietta: I do love him. He's got about as hard an edge as you can get and he's rude as all hell, but… you don't know him like I do. When it's just the two of us, he drops all of that garbage.

 

She paused for a moment before looking at T'Ama, who was looking skeptical.

 

Henrietta: Standing up to him was what Quentin needed to grow up. A role model he needs so he knows what not to be. Elmore is successful because he's a good liar. He's good at manipulating people. ::pausing:: It helps everything is in my name, too. The company he runs might be in his, but the money it generates is mine.

 

T’Ama certainly had her own opinions on the merits of having a negative role model for a parent. Elmore was probably the one who had wrecked his confidence in the first place. The odd power dynamic in their marriage explained a lot too.

 

T'Ama: ::disbelieving:: He agreed to that?

 

Henrietta: Oh, he thinks he's the one in charge because I let him. I don't have the time or knowledge to do what he does, and I don't care to, either.

 

T'Ama: ::dryly:: Who would? ::sighing:: So what does not having to worry about Quentin look like?

 

She sighed and gestured at the pies.

 

Henrietta: This is hardly me not worrying about Quentin.

 

T’Ama raised an eyebrow. Obviously.

 

T’Ama: What do you call this?

 

Henrietta: Stress baking. This is a little overboard, but I've been teetering on the edge since Frontier Day… and although he called me to check in, I haven't heard from him again. If it weren't for the daily updates from Starfleet, I'd think he was dead.

 

T'Ama: He thinks you're fragile. Which, I mean…

 

She gestured broadly around at the evidence.

 

Henrietta: I'm usually better at keeping it together, but… he's my only boy. I'm not having another anytime soon. If I lose him…

 

T'Ama: Yeah… well, it's not like children are interchangeable. 

 

She propped her head up on an elbow and sighed.

 

Henrietta: Let me finish making you dinner. I could use the good company.

 

T'Ama: Oh. Of course.

 

She awkwardly watched from the table as the older woman returned to the cauliflower.

 

Henrietta: You're welcome to help, if you like - you're family, after all.

 

T’Ama looked up at the woman through her eyelashes. That was the second time she had insisted she was family - for some reason. She was only sort of begrudgingly part of her Vulcan family - the feeling was mutual on both sides, and she wasn't particularly convinced that she wanted Elmore as family. But apparently family came with the expectation of helping out, because of course it did.

 

T'Ama: I don't really know how to cook, but I am itching to clean this place. You must be out of dishes by now.

 

Henrietta: ::smiling slightly and nodding:: That works. There's gloves next to the sink, plenty of soap. We've got a recycler but it needs an engineer - Elmore is useless and Quentin always took care of it. I need to call someone in.

 

T'Ama: Alright.

 

T’Ama blinked, wondering briefly if she should fix the recycler instead. She could probably do it - the recycler fell under Operations along with replicators and transporters and she wasn’t that long off doing the grunt work of actually repairing stuff. But truthfully she hadn’t grown up with a recycler and cleaning was taught as a sort of meditative practice for Vulcans - and she could use the meditation. So she started the water running so it’d get hot and then plugged up the sink before gloving up and retrieving dishes to add.

 

Turning back to the cutting board, Henrietta started to slice the cauliflower into steaks.

 

Henrietta: You're an angel, dear. Now. Tell me about your family. I understand your grandmother was in Starfleet, too?

 

Smiling slightly down at the sink as she fished out some silverware to scrub while the pie dishes soaked, T’Ama blushed a little bit.

T’Ama: Yeah, right after the Federation formed. She’s an admiral, retired. Or was? I think they reactivated her after, uh, what happened.

 

Henrietta: Does she live nearby?

 

T’Ama: Yeah, she has a house in San Francisco so she was on Earth for the attack. I think she’s investigating… how it happened.

 

She caught herself just in time before she went talking about Changelings infiltrating Starfleet. It had been a long time since she’d been around civilians and having her own experiences classified was taking some getting used to.

 

Henrietta didn't seem to notice. She finished slicing up the cauliflower and set the knife aside, moving to get a mixing bowl to start putting together the dry rub.

 

Henrietta: You should go see her, too, if you have the time. I'm sure she'd be happy to see your pretty face.

 

T’Ama: ::pursing her lips:: Yeah, that was the plan.

 

T’Ama lifted a freshly rinsed pie dish and stacked it on the drying rack. Her face hadn’t been very pretty lately what with the missing eyeball and all. She’d been avoiding visiting her grandmother until she’d gotten the prosthetic, though she had ended up crashing at her house the night she left the bar in a huff. Her grandmother hadn’t been home so she’d been able to sneak in and out.

 

T’Ama surveyed her handiwork: one pie dish and a handful of silverware - and then surveyed the rest of the messy kitchen that looked like a baking bomb had gone off in it. It was going to take her all night to clean this up.

 

T’Ama: oO Quentin you owe me so hard. Oo

 

They didn’t have a telepathic bond but she thought that so hard in his direction. Bastard t’hy’la and his dorky mustache that he didn’t even have anymore along with his stupid right hand. She would order him to call his mother more if she had to.

 

Lieutenant JG T’Ama

Acting Chief of Operations 

USS Chin'toka 

C240004T11

&

Henrietta & Elmore Beck

Civilians and Quentin's Parents

Riverside, California, Earth

A238810SA0

 

As written by:

 

Lieutenant JG Quentin Beck

Acting Chief Medical Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

A238810SA0

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