We haven't seen very much of Ensign Müeller, though he's been around since "
This vignette answers a few questions,
and asks a few others. What do you think, people? Does the story stand on its
own as an interesting little piece of character development, or would you like
to see it evolve further? My wife pointed out some problems with the direction
I'd planned on taking it… so I'm leaving it up to the readers.
Let me know what you think.
"Mixed Doubles"
By Joseph Manno
Johannes Müeller
was anguished and frustrated…
…but, truth to tell, he had lived with
those feelings for quite some time.
He had tried not to allow them to get
the better of him, and, for the most part, felt he'd been successful. His
career, after all, hadn't suffered in the least: He had a line number for
lieutenant, junior grade, and no one seemed to have noticed the extent of his
upset—not even the person who'd inspired it.
That same person, once again, gently but
firmly reiterated her position.
"–m sorry, Johannes, but I'm quite
happy with my life the way it is. I acknowledge your interest, but… I don't
share it." Vaerth Parihn smiled, and shrugged
her shoulders sympathetically.
Müeller felt his heart lurch, as it had so many
times before.
He put as carefully brave a face on it
as he could, though—God knew he'd had to do that at least a hundred
times before, as well—and returned what he hoped was a self-assured grin.
"OK," he replied, even as he sketched her a bow and stepped aside. "But I am going to
keep trying… there's no harm in that, right? Persistence has its rewards, I've
been told… and women have been known to change their minds."
Her expression almost imperceptibly
darkened… and Müeller imagined he could read what was
written there quite clearly: Not this woman.
What she said, though, was a patient,
"No, Johannes. There's no harm in trying. You're not bothering me,
and I value your friendship.
"Same time next week for
doubles?" she finished hopefully.
He flourished his tennis racquet like a
foil, and answered, "You bet! Losing 6-2, 6-3 isn't so
bad—considering our holo-opponents were Navratilova
and Leach."
Now Parihn chuckled wryly.
"I don't like losing… even
to the computer. What say we get together for some practice before our next
scheduled match? I think my mobility needs work."
He considered a dozen responses before
finally settling on, "Sounds good. I'll contact you later!"
Johannes tried to resist… but couldn't
help himself, turning back to watch her retreat up the corridor—his eyes drawn
immediately, hungrily, to the rhythmic sway of her hips.
"No, indeed, fraulein," he murmured. "There's nothing
wrong with the way you move... believe me, I've noticed."
Vaerth Parihn's
hearing was a lot more sensitive than she'd ever let be known… and the Orion
woman caught all of Müeller's parting comment as she
strode away.
She carefully avoided altering her pace
until certain the curve in the hallway had taken her out of his sight—then
shook her head in mild frustration.
As she entered the turbolift, her
thoughts were unsettled.
This is not good. I thought he just had a
little crush, and that he'd move past it… but it's been getting worse over the
last few weeks. Now he's prodding me for dates… and I can tell, he won't
stop—even if I ask him to stop.
The car deposited her on deck seven, and
she headed for her quarters.
I can handle the attention of men—I've been doing it
for my entire life—but I don't want to hurt him. And it's clear from his
expression any scenario that
ends with me telling him "No" irrevocably is going to wound—quite a
bit.
Well, Parihn, you have three choices: Do
just that, and hope he can handle it; acquiesce, and give him a tumble or
two—which you know
you're never going to do; or continue to preserve the status quo.
The door to quarters slid open; she was
inordinately pleased for a moment as she glanced around the sparsely decorated
room.
I spent most of my life bedecked in
jewels, swathed in silk and drenched in musk… surrounded by obscene luxury… yet
now I'm thrilled that my promotion earned me larger quarters—quarters that are
essentially a hovel compared to my previous life.
She stepped out of her tennis skirt and
into the sonic shower, where the dilemma of Johannes Müeller
again raised its hackles.
I like him; he's a good person… who has
the misfortune of being strongly attracted to someone who simply doesn't at all
return the feeling.
Freshly scrubbed, Parihn padded back
into the main room, and rolled onto the bed, drawing her knees towards her
breasts and grabbing the antique teddy bear Captain Mantovanni had given her—in
what he no doubt would have wryly told her was a full nelson. She rested her
chin on his furry head and pondered her options.
"What do you think,
As always, it maintained a thoughtful
silence.
"Great," she sighed. "Another male who never knows the right thing to
say."
Abruptly, Parihn made her decision.
I can't just stop being his friend. I'm not
going to indulge in the absurd games I've seen some human women play. If he can
handle my stance, then I can handle saying a firm "No" a thousand more
times, if necessary. I owe him that.
Besides, it's not as if he's any kind of
problem.
"Right, Cicero?"
Once again, though, the bear had nothing
to say.