Work Text:
It’s been three years since Bradward Boimler left his three closest friends on the Cerritos to take an ill-fated stint on the Titan. Three years since he left relative comfort and stability for the absolute fucking insanity of not only a new ship and a new captain, but working on the bridge regularly. Three years since he signed himself up, unknowingly, for what would turn out to be a daily array of life-threatening situations.
It’s been two years since he came back from the Titan with his head hung and his metaphorical tail between his legs. Two years since Rutherford and Tendi welcomed him with open arms while Mariner gave him the cold shoulder. Two years since she waited for him to step off the shuttle only to deck him in the face before stalking away.
It’s been a year and a half since Mariner cornered him and told him, drunk and hushed, that she missed him so much it felt like a missing limb. A year and a half since she leaned against him, too drunk to really stand, and told him that she regretted not kissing him before he left for the Titan. A year and a half since she woke up the next morning and claimed not to remember anything, though she finally started letting their friendship mend.
They still haven’t talked about that night, a year and a half ago, though not for lack of trying on Brad’s part. He doesn’t bring it up a lot, but sometimes he thinks about it so much he feels like his head is going to burst. So sure, sometimes he beats Mariner at her own game and corners her somewhere and tries to bring it up. And yet, despite her claiming not to know what he’s talking about, she gets that look in her eyes. The one that’s kind of like a feral animal, scared and ready to lash out. And it’s not like he’s trying to scare her or anything, so he backs off every time anyway.
He just wants a chance to say his piece. He hadn’t gotten that, a year and a half ago, because Mariner had passed out not long after her own confession. Brad had ended up carrying her back to their bunks and even tucking her in, grateful that no one had seen them so the gossip mill had no fuel to run on. He hadn’t gotten his chance the next morning at breakfast, either, because when he said, “About last night,” Mariner replied, “Since when are we talking to each other?”
He just wants to say his piece, that’s it. He wants to tell Mariner that he regretted not kissing her, too. That he thought about it almost every night, trying to fall asleep in his unfamiliar quarters. That he tried dating while on the Titan and all he could think about was throwing away his chance with Mariner—not to mention throwing away his friendship with Tendi and Rutherford. He wants to tell Mariner that he missed everything about her, from her potentially dangerous antics to the way she’s always right about everything.
She hasn’t let him do that, even though they talk every day and things are almost back to how they were before he left for the Titan. The banter is there, the friendly physicality, the teasing and taunting and life-or-death moments. It’s all slotting back into place but Brad can’t help but feel like something’s missing.
Three years ago, that “something missing” would have been the promotion he’s looking at on his PADD right now. Shiny and fresh and all his, if he wants it. Riker put in a good word somewhere and Freeman had passed the email along. Although, if the looks she’s been shooting him the last couple days are anything to go by, she’s expecting him to pass it up. In the past, he wouldn’t have given a second thought before accepting the promotion. It’s not quite working bridge crew on the Titan, but it’s more than being just an Ensign in the lower decks. It’s a good middle ground, probably; a balance of crazy shit happening and the mundane inner workings of a ship. Brad loves balance.
He hesitates, though. He never would’ve hesitated before. He knows he owes it to his friends to talk it over with them. He knows Tendi and Rutherford will both have plenty of advice to share, and he knows they’ll encourage him to do whatever he feels is right. And as much as he loves the lower decks and being part of the Warp Core Four, he also wants to advance his career in Starfleet. He doesn’t want to stagnate. If he did take the promotion, things would be different this time: he wouldn’t ignore his friend’s calls, they’d meet up when their shore leaves matched up, they’d stay friends even while lightyears apart.
As he stares at the promotion, just waiting for his acceptance and signature, he knows there’s really only one thing that could keep him on this ship. The one thing that would get him to stick around in the lower decks for right now and maybe forever.
Beckett Mariner.
“Oh wow,” Rutherford murmurs as he scans over the promotion. “This is a big deal.”
Head in his hands, Brad groans. “I know.”
Rutherford frowns. “You sound way less stoked about this than I’d expect. This is, like, a dream job for you. Literally.”
“I know,” Brad moans miserably. “It’s a really good opportunity. I’d be an idiot not to take it.”
Rutherford hums. “There are dumber things,” he says. He sets down the PADD and slides it back over to Brad. “Like leaving your friends behind again.”
“I know,” Brad says, and god he’s sick of saying it.
“Like,” Rutherford drawls, “leaving Mariner behind again. You don’t know what it was like, man.”
Brad finally lets go of his head just to thunk it against the table. The tabletop is cool against his flushed face but it doesn’t soothe him. “If I did leave, I’d still call you guys and we’d meet up and stuff. It wouldn’t be like the Titan.” From the corner of his eyes, he watches Rutherford shake his head.
“I’m fine with that, and Tendi would probably be fine with it, but Mariner...”
“Mariner won’t let me get a word in edgewise about how I feel,” Brad finally snaps, “and she won’t own up to how she feels, so what am I supposed to do?” And it’s like now that he’s started he can’t stop. “Am I just supposed to hang around in the lower decks for all my life, being in love with Mariner when she can’t even say she likes me on a good day? I’ve tried moving on, I’ve tried forgetting about it, and nothing’s worked. I can’t keep doing that here, not when I see her every day.”
Brad lifts his head and hates the frown on Rutherford’s face. Before he can apologize, though, his friend speaks.
“I mean, you’re right. It’s not fair for her to think you’re just going to wait around forever. I don’t know if she’d forgive you if you left again, but...but you’ve got to do what’s best for you.”
Brad rubs at his eyes when they burn with the threat of tears. “Sorry,” he says, voice wavering.
“Hey, man, no.” Rutherford scoots closer and claps a comforting hand on Brad’s shoulder. “Feelings are hard.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“What’cha reading?”
Brad jumps and nearly throws his PADD across the room at the sound of Mariner’s voice right in his ear. At the last second he manages to slam it against his chest instead, wincing in pain, and look over his shoulder at his friend. “Jesus, Mariner.”
She grins at him, all teeth like a shark. “You’ve been acting weird.”
Brad marvels, not for the first time, that someone so blunt can be so avoidant at the same time. “No I’m not.”
Mariner scoffs. “See? Super weird.” She leans back though and walks across the room toward the replicator, shoving a cup under the nozzle.
Brad watches her, hands tight around his PADD, and realizes this is as good a chance as any. “Actually,” he starts, and Mariner actually looks back at him curiously. “I, uh, have some kind of big news.”
Her eyes widen fractionally but otherwise she doesn’t react. That’s how Brad knows she’s on to him. If she was really curious about his ‘big news,’ she’d bum rush him and harass him and tease him until he told her, and then she’d tease him some more. But she doesn’t do any of that. She hangs back, leans nonchalantly against the wall, and just stares at him.
“I,” he starts, falters. “Uh.” He holds up the PADD.
“Boimler,” she says.
“I’m thinking of taking—?”
“Boimler,” she says again, louder.
Brad talks louder too. “I’ve been offered a—?”
“Brad!” She shouts, throwing her arms out. Her elbow must hit a button on the replicator because suddenly the slow drip coffee she ordered is a stream strong enough to rival a pulse beam. She yelps and Brad throws his PADD aside, springing to his feet to help her. He rushes over but slips on the rapidly growing puddle on the floor, all while Mariner haphazardly slaps at the buttons on the replicator until finally the coffee stops flowing.
And then, without even stopping to check and see if he’s okay, Mariner takes off. Brad watches her leave, on his back on the floor, coffee soaking into his uniform.
“That went well,” he says aloud to no one.
Tendi cries when he shows her the promotion, followed quickly by her throwing her arms around him in a crushingly tight hug. “That’s amazing!” She crows.
“Thanks.” Brad hugs her back just as tight, relishing the closeness. He’d missed her lack of personal boundaries while he was away, and still feels like he hasn’t refilled his tank when it comes to Tendi’s affection, even after two years. “It’s pretty crazy.”
She finally leans back and smiles at him. “You deserve it,” she tells him earnestly. “Look at you! You’ll be captain of your own ship in no time!”
Brad ducks his head sheepishly. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” Tendi puffs out her chest proudly. “Just don’t forget about us when you’re making history and doing cool first contact things.”
Brad reaches across the table and grabs Tendi’s hand. “Hey, even if I do take the promotion, it’s not going to be like last time.” It feels like a repeat of his conversation with Rutherford, especially when Tendi’s eyes narrow.
“This is literally all you’ve ever wanted. What do you mean if you take it?” Tendi’s unwavering support is great and overwhelming. Brad wants to crawl under the table and not deal with his feelings, and wishes he was more like Mariner. “Oh,” Tendi says after a few moments of silence, almost like she read his mind. “Mariner.”
“Yeah,” Brad says. “Mariner.”
Tendi chews her bottom lip thoughtfully. She glances back down at the PADD, skimming over the details of the promotion again. “Who else knows?”
“Freeman, because she had to send it my way, and Rutherford. That’s it.” He regales Tendi briefly with the coffee mishap and Mariner’s quick getaway.
“Sounds on brand,” Tendi murmurs. “You’ve got to tell her how you feel.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not hard enough!”
Brad recoils slightly and Tendi’s determined expression softens.
“Sorry, but it’s true! You and Mariner have been dancing around each other for ages, one of you needs to just,” she pauses, a noise of frustration clicking in her throat, before she shouts, “nut up or shut up!”
Brad chokes on his next breath. “Jesus, Tendi, say that louder why don’t you?”
“Don’t think I won’t, Boimler.” And oh, her eyes are narrowed again. “You know as well as I do that Mariner isn’t the most emotionally adjusted of our little gang. And yeah, she’s clever and smart and knows how to get out of doing things she doesn’t want to do, but if you really love her that much, then none of that would stop you.”
Brad meets Tendi’s unflinching gaze. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right!” She nods, cheery again. “Now go get her, tiger.”
“Oh, please, don’t call me tiger.”
Brad scrambles away from the table as Tendi starts to make a weird growling-purring noise.
Brad’s been gently hitting his head against the wall for about ten minutes when Mariner finally deigns to acknowledge his existence.
“Will you stop? The last thing we need is for you to get a concussion.”
“This wouldn’t give me a concussion.” At least, he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t. They’ve been trapped in this cave for almost ten hours, with no food or water, so he’s probably not thinking as logically as he normally would. “Besides, why do you care?” And okay, the hunger is definitely getting to him. Low blood sugar makes him hangry, alright?
He’s aware of Mariner staring at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She sounds hurt, and normally he’d feel bad, but. Well. Hangry.
Brad stops banging his head against the wall to rest his cheek against the rock instead. “It means exactly what I said. Why do you care? You go back and forth between acting like we’re best friends and then acting like you can’t stand me.” He closes his eyes. He’s so tired. He’s tired of being in this cave, of being hungry, of feeling jerked around by Mariner’s inability to just, as Tendi said, nut up.
“Woah, dude, you’re way out of line. Where do you get off saying I don’t care about you?” She crawls the short distance across the cave and grabs at his arm, forcing Brad to look at her. “You know that’s not true!”
“Then why won’t you just say it?” Brad’s pretty sure he’s not making sense. It’s getting kind of hard to keep his eyes open, honestly. “You act like you don’t remember that night but you totally do, and every time I try to bring it up you either shut me down or just run away. And I like being your friend, Mariner, I really do, but I can’t keep doing this forever. I can’t just exist knowing that you feel like that about me, and you won’t let me do anything about it.”
With that, Brad falls back against the cave wall, unconscious.
He wakes up to Captain Freeman standing at his bedside. If he weren’t so lethargic, he’d jump. As it is, he manages to say, “Cap’n,” and oh boy, he definitely still has some good drugs running around in his system.
“Boimler.” Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s glaring at him. “We nearly lost you there. Turns out you caught some kind of parasite in that cave and it was working its way through your immune system.”
Brad can feel himself blanch. “Shit.” He’s still groggy but he tries to sit up anyway. He needs to get his wits about him, he needs to read the mission reports. A hand on his chest stops him. He thinks this might be the first time Freeman has ever laid a hand on him. Gently, she pushes him back down.
“You’re fine now. Vigman synthesized a cure from some plants on the planet.” She crosses her arms again. “I should let you rest.”
“Wait,” he says. He starts to sit up again but stops when Freeman’s glare intensifies. He sinks back onto the bed under her watchful glare. “Is Beckett okay?”
Freeman doesn’t answer right away and for a split second, fear shoots like ice through Brad’s veins. “She’s fine,” she finally says. “Not a scratch on her.”
Brad tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry. “Good,” he rasps. The relief coursing through his veins is almost stronger than the drugs. He feels dizzy with it.
Freeman hums noncommittally. “You still haven’t agreed to that promotion,” she observes. “It does have an expiration date, you know.”
“I know,” Brad says. “I’m...I’m figuring some stuff out.”
“Uh huh.” Freeman taps her foot for a few beats before continuing. “My daughter is an amazing woman. She’s strong, and resilient, and I couldn’t be prouder of her. But she’s also stubborn, and she’s...fragile. She doesn’t seem like it, but she is.”
“I know,” Brad says again, softer.
“I know she’s not the easiest person to be around, but I also know that having her close is a treasure.” Freeman pauses. “She loves big, and that scares her. You need to understand that.”
Brad can only nod.
“I trust that you’ll make the right decision.” With that, Freeman nods then turns sharply on her heel and leaves the medbay.
Brad sinks back into the bed. He stares at the blinding white lights overhead even though they make his eyes hurt.
When Brad leaves medbay later that day, he’s prepared to search high and low for Mariner.
He doesn’t have to do that, because he quite literally runs into her in the hallway. She goes stumbling back but doesn’t go far. Her eyes are wide and her expression is a mixture of fear and relief.
“Hey,” she says, voice uncannily soft.
“Hey,” he echoes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“You’re glad that I’m okay? You’re the one who got some organ eating parasite!”
“It wasn’t eating my organs,” Brad starts, then shakes his head. “No, you know what? Forget that. I don’t wanna talk about the stupid parasite.”
Mariner’s mouth shuts so quick he can hear her teeth click. “What...what do you want to talk about, then?”
Brad sighs. “You know what, Mariner. Beckett.” If they’re going to talk about this, they can at least use their first names.
She lets out a shaky exhale. “Yeah, I do.”
Neither of them says anything. A couple of other ensigns pass by them and shoot them weird looks. In an uncharacteristic display of nerves, Mariner hunches in on herself more. Brad swallows, ignores the feeling of his heart sinking, and holds out a hand.
“Can we just, like, go somewhere and talk?”
The moments of stillness before Mariner takes his hand feel like a lifetime. But her hand sliding against his is relief, aloe on a burn. He wraps his fingers around her hands and starts to pull her down the hallway. He doesn’t really have a destination in mind beyond finding somewhere secluded enough that they won’t be interrupted. He doesn’t know how long they walk for. They pass a few other people, and Brad knows the rumor mill will be on fire in twenty minutes or less, given that they’re traipsing the halls holding hands.
Eventually they make it to the Holodeck, which isn’t the most private place, but it’s better than the mess hall or their bunks. The doors slide shut behind them but neither Brad nor Mariner make a move to boot up any kind of program. They also don’t pull away from each other, nor do they look at each other. It’s weirdly awkward, but also not.
“My mom told me about the promotion as soon as it came across her desk.”
Brad blinks. “Wait, really?” He glances over at Mariner, even though she’s not looking at him.
She nods. “She didn’t want me to flip out and like, attack you or go AWOL or anything. So she gave me a head’s up right before she emailed it to you.”
“Oh.” That explains the way Mariner had looked at him when he said he had news. She knew what he’d been planning to say. “Uh.”
“You’d kick ass at that promotion, Boims. You should definitely take it.”
“Mariner.” Brad tugs at her hand and forces her to face him. She still won’t meet his gaze but at least they’re standing toe to toe now. Brad doesn’t know what to say now that he has Mariner here, ready if not willing to listen. Brad knows he’s gaping at her like a fish out of water, but he spent so long thinking he’d never get this chance he doesn’t really know what to do now that he has it. All the things he’s wanted to say for a year and a half are jumbled up in his head and tangled in knots.
“I do remember that night,” Mariner admits.
Brad’s not surprised, but he’s relieved by the admission. “Yeah, I figured.”
Mariner gives him a begrudging smile. “I just…” She looks away again, off into the distance of the Holodeck. “I didn’t realize how much I liked having you around until you were gone. Especially since you weren’t answering my fucking calls.”
Brad winces. He deserves the venom in her tone.
“And then you were back, and you looked like a kicked puppy, and I wanted to stay mad at you forever. But I was just so fucking glad you were back. I was so excited to have a second chance. Because I’m not a coward, I don’t avoid taking chances. Risk-Taker is my middle name.”
Brad smiles. He squeezes the hand he still has linked with Mariner’s.
“But then I started thinking about what if you decided to leave again? You’re built for Command, Boimler, even if you could stand to loosen up some more. It’s only a matter of time before you’re running your own ship. And I know it’s inevitable, so if you were going to leave anyway, I’d rather you leave me behind as a friend than...anything more.”
Mariner finally looks at him. Her eyes are shining.
Brad still doesn’t know what to say. He’s so relieved to just have Mariner be honest with him, to finally lay their feelings out in the open. He looks down at their linked hands and then up at her slightly blotchy face and decides there’s only one thing to do.
He kisses her. He cups one hand under her jaw to tilt her head ever so slightly upwards and then he kisses her gently. He kisses her like he should’ve three years ago, before he ever left; he kisses her like he should’ve two years ago, when he got back. He kisses her like he should’ve a year and a half ago, over breakfast that next morning, instead of letting her run away from this and taking his shelter in her avoidance.
She squeaks into the kiss, a decidedly un-Mariner-like noise, and Brad can’t help his laugh. Grinning makes it hard to kiss, but he also never wants to stop. Mariner seems to have the same idea because she curls her free hand in the front of his uniform and pulls him in closer, kissing him deeper.
They kiss until their lungs are burning and Brad’s knees are buckling. When they finally pull apart, Brad’s lips are tingling and Mariner’s face is bright with a blush.
Brad grins. “I’m not taking the promotion.”
Mariner’s eyes widen. “What? Why the fuck not? It’s a great opportunity!”
“Yeah, it is. But there will be other opportunities. It’s Starfleet, there’s always new openings.” He strokes his thumb along the curve of her cheek. “Besides, I’ve got a compelling reason to stick around.”
Mariner gapes at him. “Holy shit,” she whispers.
She looks stunned. She looks him up and down as if she can’t quite believe him, and then gapes at him some more. He already knows she’s going to yell before she starts speaking.
“You’re a fucking sap!” She shouts before kissing him again. In between kisses she hollers, her voice ricocheting around the Holodeck, “you’re! A! Fucking! Sap! A romantic! A dreamer!”
Brad pretends to pull away from her. “I changed my mind, I am gonna take that promotion.”
She hauls him in again. “No way, you’re stuck with me now, Bradward. Where you go, I go. You’re not getting away so easily this time.”
He drops his hand from her cheek to curl around her hip. “Oh no,” he drawls, “what a terrible situation. How ever will I cope?”
“I dunno.” Mariner hums and tilts her head from side to side in consideration. “You should probably kiss me about it.”
Brad snorts. “Yeah, I probably should.”