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“And you’re sure that the Janisi asked for us, specifically?” Ed confirmed for the third time.
Admiral Halsey hesitated. “Their actual words were Commander Grayson and her male. The admiralty didn’t feel comfortable debating who may qualify as her male, and seeing as you’re the highest-ranking male officer on her same ship, we made the command decision to send you.”
“Yessir.” Kelly ignored the distinct discomfort at the idea of the admiralty discussing which male belonged to her; her personal life was already more public of knowledge than she would prefer seeing as her commanding officer was also her ex-husband, but there were some lines that didn’t need to be crossed, like her bosses debating whether or not said ex-husband qualified as hers.
“The Orville will transport you to Izar IV for the summit. The Janisi weren’t forthcoming with who else received invitations, but Haveena informed me she was offered one as head of the female Moclans. She declined with the understanding you as the Union representative would also speak for her interests,” Halsey continued. Kelly raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Haveena’s fierce independence and desire to be seen as equal in status to Moclus made it difficult to believe she would forfeit the opportunity to go on a diplomatic mission as the leader of the sanctuary. “She’s offered to write a briefing of the information she feels comfortable sharing about the status of the colony.”
“That would be great, thank you,” Ed said. “How are relocation efforts going?” The original sanctuary hadn’t been in Union space (probably a good thing, considering how politically fraught the situation was even without the sanctuary being right under Moclus’s nose), but with the expulsion of Moclus from the Union it seemed a smarter political play to bring the female Moclans closer to home, so to speak.
Halsey’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Moclus isn’t happy. They’ve been dogging all of the transport ships we sent, and if it weren’t for the Kaylon I’m sure they would’ve tried to attack by now.”
“All the more reason to get the Janisi on our side,” Kelly said. Even if Union membership was out of the question thanks to the cultural incompatibilities, an alliance, or at least a cease-fire, would make everyone more comfortable.
“Exactly.” Halsey nodded sharply. “We’ll get you the briefing from Haveena tomorrow. Halsey out.”
The video call closed and Kelly stepped back from her position at Ed’s left shoulder, already pondering.
“Does any of this smell off to you?” she asked after a long silence.
“You mean the part where they asked for us specifically after we made a mess of their last visit?” Ed asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Or the part where they won’t tell the Union who else is going to show up,” Kelly said. “It could mean that they’re still working out the guest list, or…”
“On the bright side, it doesn’t seem likely they’d join the Krill-Moclan alliance,” Ed said. Kelly hummed her agreement, crossing the room to Ed’s synthesizer and creating them both a finger of whiskey. She slid his across the desk when she sat down opposite him. The Janisi and the Moclans were about as diametrically opposed as any two species could be, one fiercely matriarchal and the other fiercely patriarchal. Given the Janisi delegation’s disdain for Bortus when they were visiting, it didn’t seem likely they’d jump at the opportunity to join the Moclans even if it did come with significantly improved firepower and access to supply lines they hadn’t had before.
“Do we even know the Krill and the Moclans are still together?” Kelly asked. Even if the Janisi wouldn’t get in bed with the Moclans, if the Moclans and Krill had separated, she could see the Janisi wanting to be with the Krill. Teleya had been a formidable ruler. A formidable female ruler. “I got the impression Teleya was the driving force behind that.” With the Krill’s former chancellor in a Union prison, everything had the potential to get much messier. The Union’s contacts on Krill had been commanded into a blackout following Teleya’s election — it was far too risky to continue communication when anti-Union rhetoric was reaching a fever pitch — and as far as Kelly knew, the relays hadn’t been re-established following Teleya’s capture. The Union had no clue what had happened to Krill. Peaceful transfer of power hadn’t been their forte in the best of times, and Teleya’s chancellorship hadn’t been the best of times. A military coup was always a possibility, or a forceful seizure of the planet. In any case the government hadn’t reached out to the Union, so they were operating under the assumption Krill remained hostile to the Union and allied with the Moclans.
“I think they’d be crazy to let each other go when most of the known galaxy is scrambling to avoid conflict with the Union.” Even the Calivon had been much more covert with any excursion outside of their own space despite their technological advancement. Everyone was treading softly because the Union was now in possession of the largest stick in the form of the Kaylon.
“I thought they were crazy to start this whole thing,” Kelly said, sipping her drink thoughtfully. “It’s like they forgot that self-preservation is the most basic instinct for any species, even one that claims to be driven by logic alone. Threatening to wipe the Kaylon out without offering another alternative was illogical.” As far as she was concerned, the jury was still out on whether the Kaylon experienced emotion. Villka, the scientist who had created the emotion implant used on Timmis, was scheduled to meet with Kaylon Prime in the near future. Halsey would’ve likely offered the Orville the opportunity to transport her if the invitation from the Janisi hadn’t interfered.
“I guess neither the Krill nor the Moclans ever claimed not to be crazy,” Ed said. Kelly had to agree; the Krill’s fanatical belief in Avis and the Moclans’ equally fanatical belief in the inferiority of females were both delusional. Kelly could give the Krill more leeway since religious fanaticism was a near-universal stage in the development of societies, but the Moclans… They had been given every reason to believe females were both more common and more capable than they were taught, and they still decided it was better to shun their women than to embrace them.
Ed threw back the rest of his whiskey, ending with a satisfied smack of his lips. “Gordon told me there’s an old Earth adage, never stick your dick in crazy. Utterly failed on that one.”
“Twice,” Kelly said, smirking and tilting her glass towards him before draining it.
“As far as I’m aware, you never attempted genocide, so I think you have a leg up here.” Ed gave her a wry half-smile. “Breakfast tomorrow to review Haveena’s briefing and figure out a plan for when it all inevitably goes to shit?”
“Breakfast sounds good.” Kelly set her empty whiskey snifter on Ed’s desk. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“Not going to happen,” Ed sighed. “The paperwork never ends, even after the battles do.”
Kelly made an apologetic noise in the back of her throat. Documentation had admittedly fallen to the wayside after the last battle that had led to the Kaylon’s Union membership, and she couldn’t imagine catching up would be much fun. She’d done everything she could on her end, writing letters and making visits to the families of the deceased, but there was far more logistical work to be done and documented before the last of the battle would be complete.
“It’ll be okay,” Ed said. “As long as nothing horrible happens while we’re gone I should have it all finished up before the admirals get on my ass for it.”
“That’s a big if.” Especially on their ship, where everything that could go wrong did.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me, Kel.”
She knew better than to argue she always worried about him, so Kelly gave Ed one last nod goodnight before departing back to her quarters, alone.
---
If this was an elaborate ruse to kidnap them, it was certainly very elaborate. Kelly walked into the entrance hall of the Janisi capitol building, craning her head back to peer at the ceiling overhead, a series of interconnected spheres that created something resembling a dome but also appeared more art than architecture. She didn’t have long to marvel at the unfamiliar building style before she and Ed were ushered down a stairwell and into the underbelly of the capitol.
The hallways were disorienting, all curves and sudden turns. The building hadn’t looked all that different from Earth architecture from the outside, but the inside was decidedly less organized. It was brilliant from a tactical perspective; the interconnecting circular hallways would make sense to anyone who had grown up in them, and had the bonus of making it easy to escape a potential pursuer. To anyone who didn’t understand the system, though, the hallways were mind-numbing and dizzying. Kelly found herself glad when their guard — a tall, dark-skinned woman named Korvo — stopped outside a doorway and announced it was her guest quarters.
“He’ll be staying with me,” Kelly said, gesturing to Ed. Korvo had made it clear that while Ed would be respected as Kelly’s property while on Janisan soil, he wouldn’t be afforded the same privileges as he was in the Union. She didn’t want him carted away to some servants’ quarters, and sharing a room seemed the easiest way to keep him close by. What the Janisi assumed about her relationship with Ed as a result of that choice wasn’t Kelly’s problem.
“I will collect you for dinner when the rest of the diplomats arrive,” Korvo said. “Your male’s belongings will be brought here as soon as possible.” The Janisi’s lip curled at the prospect of a man having his own belongings, but Kelly didn’t comment on her dislike. Cultural tolerance could only take them so far, and if there was anything the situation with Moclus had taught them, it was that tolerance had to be a two-way street. Ed would obey the Janisi’s rules while he was in their capitol, but the Janisi would have to learn eventually their customs weren’t universal.
“Thank you.” Kelly waited until Korvo had turned before pushing open the door to the guest room and ushering Ed inside. Like much of the other Janisi architecture, the room was circular and the ceiling domed. A chandelier with blown-glass bubbles hung in the center of the room, scattering warm light over the walls. It was a stark difference from the Union’s clean lines and blue-hued everything, but it reminded Kelly oddly of the apartment she and Ed had shared in New York, in feel if not aesthetically.
“Nice bed,” Ed commented, gesturing towards the piece of furniture that dominated the room. Since it was also circular it was difficult to tell what the equivalent size would be in a bed Kelly was familiar with, but it was easily large enough for several full-grown adults. Kelly’s stomach squirmed; the reason the beds were made so large was because Janisi women would often take several men with them to bed at the same time. Kelly had no fundamental qualms with polyamory, but Janisan society had warped males’ perception of consent so far she couldn’t see how the polyandry the Janisi practiced was ethical.
“You’re sure you don’t mind sharing?” Kelly asked, shaking the image of the Janisi out of her head. They’d discussed it at breakfast when they’d decided their strategy for the mission, but sharing a bed for the first time since their disastrous attempt at rekindling their relationship would be… Kelly didn’t even know the word. She wanted to believe it would be difficult, but the horrible part about this whole thing was that letting herself get closer to Ed wasn’t difficult. Holding back was the hard part.
“Of course not.” Ed smiled at her. “It looks like we could go the whole night without even touching each other if we really tried.”
Kelly snorted. “I don’t think we’d even have to try.”
She approached the bed to find clothing laid neatly on it — the Janisi ceremonial garb she’d been asked to wear at least for the first, formal dinner.
“I’m going to get changed,” she announced, scooping the clothing up and heading towards the door she assumed was the en suite bathroom. Her assumption proved correct, and Kelly took a moment to marvel at the opulence of the place. Military quarters had always favored substance over style, and nowhere was that truer than in bathrooms; her bathroom on the Orville didn’t even have a bathtub, just a small shower tucked in the corner of the equally-small bathroom. The Janisi bathroom, on the other hand, had a bathtub so large it might as well have been a swimming pool, as well as a shower with what must’ve been at least a dozen shower heads arranged in a circle, all pointing towards the center of a tile ring enclosed in glass.
After picking her jaw up off the floor Kelly stripped herself out of her uniform, pulling on the formal wear she’d been provided with. It wasn’t dissimilar from what the Janisi delegation had worn aboard the Orville, a soft and supple leather-like material clinging to her body as she pulled on a bandeau, fitted pants, and an equally-fitted tunic and breastplate. The Janisan clothing emphasized the stereotypically feminine hourglass figure, accentuating the slimness of her shoulders and the flare of her waist. The long sleeves would’ve been an excellent place to store a weapon if their blasters hadn’t been confiscated the moment they’d exited their transport shuttle from the Orville.
Kelly took a few steps, testing the fit of the clothing, and was somewhat disturbed to find it all fit as if it was made for her. She was sure there was an innocent explanation for the near-perfect fit, but when already on-edge even innocuous details like suspiciously well-fit clothing were a cause for alarm.
She slid on the socks and shoes she’d been provided then finished checking all of the clasps and buttons to make sure she wasn’t about to make a horrible faux pas by accidentally exposing herself to the other delegations. When she’d assured herself she was decent, Kelly exited the bathroom —
And was immediately faced with her half-naked ex-husband. She took a deep breath, averting her gaze until Ed had time to wriggle into the shirt someone must’ve delivered for him.
“Is seeing me shirtless really that bad?” Ed teased. Kelly looked up, fighting back the blush threatening to rise in her cheeks.
“I was just being polite,” she asserted. Then, to change the subject: “They really don’t like men.”
Ed might as well have been wearing a potato sack in both material and shape. While obvious effort had been made to provide the women with a comfortable, functional uniform, the men had no such efforts made for them. The fabric hung off Ed’s body oddly, and when Kelly reached to straighten his shirt, the fabric scratched at the tips of her fingers. Even her attempts at making the shirt look less sack-like didn’t seem to help; the asymmetry of the design and the unflattering shade of taupe that must’ve been the fiber’s natural color worked against any effort to make it appealing.
“No kidding,” Ed said, huffing out a laugh. “At least you look good.”
“Eyes front, Mercer,” Kelly commanded, unsure whether or not she was teasing. The undeniable tension between them since their failure to resume their relationship had only grown since Claire and Isaac’s wedding, and Kelly didn’t think it was just her imagination that they were hurtling towards something big.
“Yes, ma’am.” He seemed more certain than her, the glint in his eyes playful and unreserved. Kelly wished she could be as fearless as he was when it came to the matter of them. He was always asking, and she was always answering, and she knew it had to wear on him. Maybe that was why he had stopped asking — because he knew her answer would be no, and he couldn’t stand hearing it again. That was why she had been the one to reach out during the wedding. She had offered him her hand, and she would have offered more than that if she knew how.
“Do you want to review the plan again before dinner?” Kelly asked, once again finding an excuse to change the subject before they could get too deep in the subject of honorifics. If they talked about it too long she would recall all the times she’d called him sir outside the purview of their jobs, and she didn’t need that distraction when there was already a bed involved.
“If that’s what you want.” Which was Ed-speak for no, but I’m not going to tell you no.
“What do you think they’re doing on the ship right now?” Kelly asked, relenting to Ed’s unwillingness to discuss their diplomatic mission in favor of indulging some of their homesickness. It was a bit pathetic that after only a few hours away from the Orville she already considered herself homesick, but she missed the familiarity of the ship and its people. Life aboard the Orville had a rhythm to it, and the rhythm made it easy to explain away how often she found herself sucked into Ed’s orbit. He was the captain and she was his XO, and of course they spent their time together reviewing paperwork and talking about the ship and sharing the feelings they couldn’t let the rest of the crew know about. On the Orville, she had infinite reasons to seek Ed out and none of them had to do with how she felt about him.
She had reasons here, too, but they felt like paper flowers, ready to be crushed or burned or ripped apart by the first set of indelicate hands that touched them. Had she arranged for her and Ed to share a bed out of fear for his safety if they were separated, or had she done it because she wanted an excuse to keep him close? If Kelly was honest with herself, she didn’t know, and it terrified her.
Ed compromised her judgment, but when she knew he was compromising her judgment, she could take steps to correct it. It was all the times she didn’t know she was doing something for his sake that worried her. Those were what would get them in trouble if they ever got back together again. Ed had proved the past few months that he could put his personal feelings aside for the greater good — he’d left his daughter on Krill because the situation was too politically fraught to involve the Union — but that had to have limits, didn’t it?
Kelly didn’t realize Ed was answering her until he tilted his head in silent request for comment and she couldn’t offer a reply.
“Sorry, what was that?”
He paused, scrutinizing her carefully before repeating the comment about how the B shift would be happy to have the chance for some “real action”, even if that real action was just playing getaway car if things went south planetside.
“I can’t imagine being B shift,” Kelly huffed. She knew their work in keeping the ship safe while A shift slept was important, but Jesus. She got bored on the bridge more often than not and she at least had a hope of something interesting happening.
“You and me both,” Ed said. He sat on the edge of the bed, bracing his hands against his knees. “Works better for people with kids, I guess.”
“I guess,” Kelly echoed, and tried not to imagine the life they’d have lived if things had gone to plan.
---
The formal dining room was, unsurprisingly, circular, though the table was not. Someone must’ve pointed out how difficult it would’ve been to speak to another diplomat more than two seats away if the table was one giant circle. Instead the formal dining table was a series of interconnected circles, and it seemed like additional circles could be added or removed as the party size demanded. Korvo led Kelly and Ed to their seats — or rather, led Kelly to her seat and explained that Ed would be sitting on a pouf behind her, lest anyone be confused or upset by a male’s presence at the table. Ed didn’t protest before taking his seat.
The other diplomats who filed in were from species Kelly either didn’t recognize or didn’t know much about. She supposed that made sense, if any other Union invitees turned their invitations down so the Union could have a single representative. None of the other women brought a man with them, and Kelly heard the fabric of Ed’s pouf crunched as he shifted nervously behind her.
Cautious chatter filtered through the space as species and diplomats who had never met before made introductions. The glowing purple alien on Kelly’s left introduced herself as Sao’Var; her people were from an asteroid belt in a star system Kelly had never heard of. The woman looked especially curious about Ed, still sitting silently behind Kelly, but she didn’t have the time to indulge the curiosity before the last guest swept into the room.
Cold rushed through Kelly and she suppressed a shiver as her eyes met the Krill woman’s. Whoever it was was unfamiliar to Kelly, and Ed’s soft grunt of surprise wasn’t enough to tell her whether he recognized the Krill diplomat in particular or was just as shocked as she was that a Krill was invited at all. At least they had the answer to why the Janisi hadn’t offered a guest list.
The Krill took the last empty seat, several circles away from Kelly and Ed. Even after she sat her gaze remained focused on the pair of them, but Kelly refused to cower. The Union had defeated the Krill and the Moclans once, and they would gladly do it again; that was the price to pay for peace.
The Janisi regent introduced herself (her name was unpronounceable in English, Kelly was fairly sure) and gave her thanks for the guests’ presence at the summit. She continued on with instructions about where the guests were permitted and where they weren’t — they were allowed everywhere except areas clearly marked as forbidden and the male quarters — and a coolly-delivered warning about how there would be no violence at the summit. Maybe Kelly was dreaming it, but she swore the woman was looking at her. Kelly didn’t care. She had no desire to harm the Krill diplomat; if it were up to her, the two of them wouldn’t be in the same room again after tonight.
The regent called for a toast, and scores of Janisi men in the same unflattering uniforms as Ed spilled in from every entrance of the room, trays of champagne neatly balanced on their arms. Kelly accepted a glass with a small smile of thanks. The male averted his gaze and carried on, handing a glass to Sao’Var.
“Your male,” Sao’Var said, the universal translator working sluggishly as it parsed the new language. “He is very pretty.”
Kelly nearly choked on the sip of champagne she had just taken — and not just because it didn’t taste like champagne whatsoever. “He is,” she agreed eventually, because what else could she say? Pretty wouldn’t be her first choice of descriptor when talking about Ed, but it fit. His eyelashes were impossibly long and his eyes were soft and warm and… pretty. Damnit.
“Why did you bring him?” Sao’Var asked, sipping her own drink. She furrowed her brow, as perplexed by the sickly-sweet flavor of the not-champagne as Kelly was.
“Because I need him,” Kelly answered, satisfied that the answer was ambiguous enough to please anyone listening while not giving Ed too big of a head.
“I see.” Sao’Var’s eyes twinkled. “A great need indeed, if Her Highness agreed to allow him here.”
Kelly just nodded, filing that bit of information away for the future. Sao’Var’s words seemed to imply the other women hadn’t brought males with them not because they thought it unnecessary, but because they weren’t permitted to.
The alien on the other side of Sao’Var asked Kelly a question about the Union, which was much more comfortable to answer than anything about Ed. The other diplomats in earshot turned to hear what she had to say, and Kelly soon found herself the center of attention in her section of the table.
Even the Krill had turned to listen, staring at Kelly with cold, dark eyes that befitted a planet without sun and a species without hearts.
---
“You really think I’m pretty?” Ed asked once they were safely returned to their own room.
“Seriously?” Kelly huffed, kicking off her shoes. They fit just as well as the rest of the clothing, but after dinner they’d gone on a tour of the capitol and no amount of fitting could change how painful breaking in new shoes was.
“Sorry, would you rather I comment on the economic policy of Serpens VI?” Ed asked, stepping out of his own shoes. “Or the Krill woman staring you down like she was going to leap across the table and throttle you?”
“Shut up,” Kelly grumbled. Begrudgingly, she added, “Of course you’re pretty.”
Ed choked.
“What?” Kelly whirled around to face him, crossing her arms. “You think I lied about being attracted to you?”
“I didn’t say that.” Ed raised his hands, palms out in surrender. “I just didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” Kelly pressed.
“It’s just hard to hear things like you need me and you think I’m handsome, knowing… knowing your position on our relationship,” Ed said.
Kelly took a bracing breath. “Sometimes I wish you were more of an asshole, you know.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t like always having to be the restrained one,” she said. “I hate having to say no to you when I want to say yes, and I hate that you’re too much of a good guy not to push my boundaries, because if you were an asshole we would’ve fucked by now and I would’ve realized it’s not the end of the world if we do!”
Ed blinked at her, stunned. Kelly was just as shocked as he was; she didn’t think the not-champagne was alcoholic, but given her outburst there was a chance it was. Or maybe it was a truth serum? Or maybe, Kelly admitted to herself, she was just sick and tired of being lonely when the person she wanted was within her reach.
“You want me to be an asshole?” Ed asked after far too long a pause.
“I want you to tell me what I want and then give it to me,” Kelly said, swallowing hard. “Like you used to.”
Realization dawned on Ed’s face. “You want me to…?”
“Yes.”
The blood crashed in Kelly’s ears while she waited for him to answer and it took all her focus to keep the world from spinning out of her control. Even if he said no, there was a certain euphoria in finally having the words out of her, the something that had been building since the wedding outside of her instead of trapped in her chest.
Ed didn’t say no.
He crossed the space between them in a few long strides, grabbing Kelly’s face in his hands and pulling her in for a kiss that bruised. He didn’t wait for an invitation before sliding his tongue into her mouth and Kelly whimpered. She’d forgotten what it’d been like to be on the receiving end of his whole-hearted focus. Even when they'd tried getting back together, they hadn’t done anything like this — hadn’t allowed themselves to show how absolutely desperate they were. Maybe if they had, things would’ve gone differently. Kelly didn’t allow herself to get caught up in hypotheticals, though, not when something very real was happening right in front of her.
She gasped in a surprised breath when Ed’s hand slipped under her shirt, letting out a soft whine to encourage him to continue. A shiver ran through her when his nails scraped over her hypersensitive skin, and that only made her want him more.
Kelly had been correct in believing all it would take was one step out of line for everything to come tumbling down. What did it matter if he kissed her if she’d already declared she had feelings for him? What did it matter if he touched her if he was already kissing her like she belonged to him? And what did it matter if she let him fuck her if he’d already touched her like she was the most precious thing in the galaxy?
He wrung another spate of whimpers out of her when he forced his leg between hers, the seam of her pants rubbing deliciously against her slick, hot skin. His hands pushed higher, hooking underneath the bandeau so he could run his thumbs over her nipples.
Ed pinched and Kelly yelped into his mouth, her hips bucking forward. Shit, shit, shit. How the fuck was she supposed to keep herself from falling apart when he did things like that so casually, so easily? She’d never had any complaints about his performance in the bedroom when they were married — other than that the frequency wasn’t high enough — but this. This was different in the best way.
They broke apart, panting, and Ed gave her a questioning look.
“I don’t want to stop,” she breathed. “Do you?”
“No.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “No, I don’t.”
“Good.” Kelly’s voice trembled. “Because I don’t think…” I don’t think I can stop. Even if they had paused to have this conversation, Kelly was all too aware of the tightness in her stomach, the heat between her thighs.
“I’m being an asshole, remember?” Ed traced his tongue over her jawline and down her throat. “Assholes don’t stop.” He kissed the joint of her neck and shoulder and Kelly sighed, tilting her head away from him to give him better access.
He could say he was being an asshole all he wanted, but Kelly didn’t have even a fleeting doubt that if she said the word, he’d obey. From the outside, it would seem like he had all the power, and she was at his mercy, but the opposite couldn’t be more true. She had the power; she had given him her trust, and she could just as easily take it away.
Ed began sucking a bruise onto her neck and Kelly wanted to protest — she didn’t have anything to cover the mark with — but couldn’t find the words, especially not when Ed’s thumbs were still playing lazily with her nipples and his thigh was pressing insistently into her cunt. The stubborn, proud part of her chafed at the idea of humping his thigh, but the significantly louder, desperate part of her did not give a damn if it provided any sense of relief.
“Oh, fuck me,” she moaned when he pressed his leg up into her.
“That’s the plan,” Ed answered, choosing that moment to nudge her down onto the bed. He had taken his hands out from under her shirt so he could brace himself above her, leaving her bandeau and tunic both balled rather uncomfortably around her chest. More importantly he had removed his thigh from between hers so his knees could bracket her hips, leaving her devoid of any sensation save for the picture of the smirking face above her.
I hate you, she tried to say, but it came out instead as, “I love you.”
Ed’s smirk faltered momentarily, but he recovered quickly — more quickly than Kelly. “I love you, too.”
Kelly pressed her mouth closed before she could stay something stupid, and only opened it again once she was sure her brain was back online. “You know what a great way to show your love is?”
“I can think of a few,” Ed chuckled. “Most of which involve my penis.”
“Smart man,” Kelly said, and allowed Ed to undress her. He lingered longer than she would’ve if she were the one doing the job, but there was something meditative about how he traced his hand over her thighs, her arms, her stomach. He wasn’t nearly as reverent with pulling his own clothes off and Kelly wanted to stop him, insist he give himself the same grace he always gave her, but there would be time for that later. She hoped. Who could say that would happen in the morning, or when they got back to the ship?
Ed proved remarkably good at pulling her out of her head, his thumb pressing into her clit just enough to send sparks shooting up her spine. She arched up into him, hoping he would get the message her mouth couldn’t quite form: Inside me, now.
His thumb disappeared, replaced a moment later with the tip of his cock. He dragged it across her clit, then down to her entrance. Kelly whimpered when he trailed the head of his cock through her folds, desperate for the teasing to stop.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathed when he finally, blessedly pushed into her. “Jesus, Ed, fuck!”
No one had ever accused her of being quiet in the bedroom, but Kelly also couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this vocal before. It helped that Ed had apparently not forgotten how she liked to be fucked and was using that knowledge to great effect. She couldn’t not moan every time he thrust into her, because every time he did another bolt of pleasure shot through her.
“Oh — oh!” Ed’s hand had slid between them again, allowing her to press her clit into his palm with every upward movement of her hips. Some hazy part of her brain wondered how Ed managed to brace all his weight on one hand, but most of Kelly was far more concerned with how to gather enough electricity to overload her system. Their current rhythm would be more than enough, if he just —
Ed pressed down into her clit just as Kelly’s hips snapped up, and she was gone. She pressed her fist against her lips to muffle her ragged moan, her toes curling into the soft fabric of the bedsheets. In another lifetime, Kelly would’ve chastised herself for stroking Ed’s ego by finishing so quickly, but a moment later he was spilling into her, and, well, they could just call it even now. It wasn’t bad for a first showing after a dry spell.
“Was that…?” Ed asked as he rolled off her.
“Amazing,” Kelly said, too tired to be coy about it. “We should do it again sometime.”
Either Ed was too afraid to answer the question, or he was already asleep — Kelly didn’t know which, but she didn't think she needed to.
---
Kelly woke to Ed snoring in her ear, but even that made her smile. His arm lay heavy around her waist, and somehow in the night she’d taken his hand. She took a moment to press the contents of the moment into her memory before slipping out of Ed’s grip and heading to the bathroom. Her muscles were pleasantly achy from her first good fuck in a year, but she didn’t want to be any sort of achy, even pleasantly so, when sitting through a day of diplomatic meetings.
She stood under the hot spray of the shower for as long as she could justify before quickly shampooing her hair (the Janisan shampoo smelled almost exactly like the one she used on the Orville, which was unnerving) and running a washcloth cursorily over her body. Kelly had the towel halfway around her body before realizing she hadn’t been given another set of clothes and would need to wear the ones she’d discarded on the bedroom floor the night before.
Ed had woken up by the time she emerged from the bathroom and had reached the same conclusion about the clothing — his godawful outfit was already hanging off him, and hers was neatly folded at the foot of the bed. She used one arm to scoop it up while using the other to hold the towel in place.
Kelly cleared her throat. “About last night…” She hadn’t had much time to process what had happened while it was happening, but the shower had helped her think everything through.
Ed turned to look at her, already slumped in defeat. “Yeah?”
He thought she was going to say it was a mistake. The realization stung, more than she’d imagined it would. She waited for the sting to subside before saying, “I’m sorry.” She pushed on before Ed could make more erroneous assumptions about what she was apologizing for. “I didn’t mean to say I loved you. I mean, I do — love you, that is — but we’ve avoided it for so long and I had hoped when I said it again it wouldn’t be… like that. But it wasn’t just the oxytocin, or your penis, or whatever. I do love you, and I still love you, and — what?”
Ed had started grinning at her about halfway through her speech and it got to the point where it was distracting.
“I just thought you were going a totally different direction with that. And I’m glad you didn’t,” Ed said. He stood from the bed, cupping Kelly’s face in his hands. “I love you, too.” He brushed his lips across hers in a gentle kiss.
Kelly could’ve pointed out she didn’t need the reassurance the way he did, but she didn’t. Just because she’d never doubted Ed’s love for her the way he doubted her love for him didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the reassurance that came with his words.
“I’m going to get changed,” she murmured against his lips. “We’ll talk more tonight?” God knew they wouldn’t have a private moment with as many diplomats as there were crawling around.
“Tonight,” Ed promised, kissing her again. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”
Kelly had half a mind to find an excuse to beg off breakfast so they could reacquaint themselves sooner rather than later, but it was testing their luck to have Ed present for the summit at all. Neither of them could stomach losing progress with the Janisi just for sex — not when there were lives at stake.
---
They barely made it down the hallway before they were stopped by someone calling out, “Commander Grayson!”
Kelly wished she hadn’t turned around when she saw the owner of the voice: the mysterious Krill who had spent most of dinner the night previous staring her down. Still, politeness to other guests was a condition of their stay, and Kelly refused to be the lesser person.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met?” Kelly asked, extending her hand for a shake as if the Krill woman were just another human she hadn’t been acquainted with before. It seemed to knock the Krill off-balance, which gave Kelly a small thrill. Regardless the woman took Kelly’s hand in hers and shook with surprising firmness before releasing.
“My name is Vaspa. I am…” the woman searched for the appropriate word before settling on, “I am a refugee.”
“A refugee who gets invited to a diplomatic summit?” Kelly asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I was acquainted with a Janisan woman in my childhood,” Vaspa explained quickly, glancing nervously over her shoulder, then Kelly’s. “May I speak with you in private?”
Kelly’s first instinct was to deny the request, but she had to admit she was curious how the woman had come to be a refugee, and what interest she had in Kelly and Ed in particular. Kelly couldn’t believe it was coincidence Vaspa knew her by name; she also couldn’t believe the Krill didn’t know Ed as well. Janisan customs prevented her from addressing him directly in public, but once they were alone…
“Where would you suggest we do that?” Kelly asked.
Vaspa gestured to the nearest door and Kelly nodded, forcing down the sense of impending doom when the door shut with a definitive click behind Ed.
“May I assume you and the Janisi are at odds when it comes to what rights males should have?” Vaspa asked dryly. Kelly translated that to mean, can I talk to your male without you freaking out?
So, she nodded.
“Captain Mercer,” Vaspa said, turning to Ed. “I have information about… someone you care for.”
“Anaya,” Ed said immediately. His daughter was the only person left he cared for on Krill now that Teleya was in Union custody.
“Yes.” Vaspa straightened her shoulders, and Kelly braced herself for bad news. No one needed to steady themselves before giving good news.
“It’s my understanding that when you visited Krill, you saw the Termination Chamber?”
Kelly wouldn’t have used the word visited in that context, since Ed had been imprisoned when he had seen the technology that allowed Krill parents to see the future of their unborn child. She also didn’t understand why the Termination Chamber (which, by the way, was a horrible name) was relevant at all. Except for maybe that Krill’s moral opposition to abortion was the reason Anaya existed.
Ed nodded, so Vaspa continued. “The technology used in the Termination Chamber is well-developed. It would allow any Krill with access to two individual’s genetic data to create an enduring simulation of a child with those individuals’ characteristics. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Teleya already said as much.” Ed’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand why you’re repeating what I already know.”
“Supreme Chancellor Teleya had access to your genetic profile, Captain Mercer,” Vaspa said. “She also had access to her own.”
The realization dawned on Kelly before Ed, but she waited for him to make a soft, anguished noise before reaching for his hand. Ed took it, squeezing her almost to the point of pain.
“The Chancellor wished to have a contingency plan should she ever be detained by the Union again,” Vaspa said. “She believed you would return her to Krill in exchange for your child’s life, regardless of the consequences.” Ed’s grip tightened even further, and Kelly wished she could offer something more than squeezing back. Teleya had done just that — offered Anaya in exchange for her own freedom.
Anaya, who didn’t really exist. Anaya, who was a computer simulation designed to con Ed into allowing Teleya to continue to wreak havoc upon the galaxy.
A part of Kelly felt like she should’ve known. Teleya had always treated emotional like it was a dirty word; there was nothing worse to her than excessive sentimentality. It wouldn’t be difficult to surmise that the easiest way to manipulate Ed would be through his emotions, and given how humans (or any sapient species, really) could be about their children…
“I refused to pose as one of the child’s caretakers,” Vaspa said. “It is why I left Krill when I did, and came to Izar IV with the Janisi. When I learned they had contact with the Union, I knew I had to find a way to tell you.” Vaspa straightened her shoulders. “I once respected Teleya a great deal, but there are lines that should not be crossed, and this is one of them.”
Ed remained standing, frozen, his hold on Kelly’s hand vice-like.
“Thank you for letting us know,” Kelly said, stepping in when it became apparent Ed was in no state to speak to Vaspa. “You understand this comes as quite a shock to both of us.”
“Of course.” Vaspa dipped her head. “If you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them. Now, or after you have departed.”
“I think later would probably be better,” Kelly said. “Thank you.”
Vaspa recognized the dismissal when she heard it, and she ducked out of the room with a nod.
Ed stayed silent.
“What are you thinking?” Kelly asked after the quiet grew to be too much, fidgeting with the collar of her tunic. Suddenly the hickey that may or may not have been visible on her throat seemed like a minuscule problem.
“I don’t even know,” Ed said. “I just — don’t know.”
“Let’s go back to bed,” Kelly suggested. The only benefit of being so close to their room was that they could lock themselves away and… what? Wait for reality to sink in?
“I’ll go back.” Ed cleared his throat, then dropped her hand. “You still have a mission to complete.”
“Ed…” You’re more important than any mission. But would her being there really help him? Or would he put on a brave face for her, like he had before and would do again?
“I’ll be okay, Kel.” It was a lie, and they both knew it, but they also both knew she wouldn’t call him on it. Ed leaned forward and touched his lips to hers — barely enough to be called a kiss, but recognizable as one nonetheless.
“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she said, wanting desperately to kiss him harder, longer, better.
“I can’t promise that.” Under normal circumstances, he might’ve smiled at her, but he didn’t.
She didn’t want to leave, but Kelly was almost sure Ed wanted her to go — so she did, and forced herself not to look back.
---
"I’m sorry,” Ed said.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kelly answered firmly. “I can handle the ship on my own for a little while.”
She hadn’t been surprised Ed had asked for a sabbatical, nor when the admiralty had approved it without question. Even if Anaya hadn’t been real, she had felt real, and it was standard procedure for a parent to be given time to grieve after the loss of their child. Sure, Kelly would rather not be in the shuttle bay about to ship Ed off to Earth… but mostly because she wanted to be with him.
“That’s not what I’m apologizing for.” Ed looked down at his shoes, then up at her, then back down.
“You don’t need to apologize for that, either,” she murmured. As unsurprised as she had been about Ed’s sabbatical, she’d been even less surprised when he had called a pause on their… whatever it was. They hadn’t defined the relationship any further since Ed’s attention had been elsewhere, and it was for the better that Ed wasn’t trying to figure out a relationship while also trying to figure out himself — which was why Kelly hadn’t asked Ed if he wanted her to go with him, no matter how much she had wanted to.
“It seems kind of unfair, right?” Ed asked. “That as soon as we try again, something happens?”
“Life isn’t fair,” Kelly offered quietly. Even if the Union tried to promise equality in the things it could control, there were plenty of things it couldn’t, so life could never be wholly fair.
“When I come back…” Ed lifted his head again, something between anguish and hope in his eyes.
“I’ll be waiting,” Kelly said. He wouldn’t ask her to promise that, but he didn’t need to ask. They’d chosen each other too many times to stop now, even if it did seem like life was getting in the way. As many times as Ed reached out, Kelly would reach back — and he would do the same for her. Hopefully that would mean someday, they’d be able to be together again, the way it should be.
“I’m going to miss you, Kel.”
Kelly drew Ed into a tight hug so he wouldn’t get the chance to see the tears in her eyes. “I’m going to miss you, too.” She took a deep breath, squeezing him tighter and trying to press the smell of his cologne into her memory. “Just come back to me, okay?”
“Yeah.” Ed turned his head, pressing his face into the side of her neck. “I’ll come back.”
---
Running a starship was exhausting.
Kelly knew it was — as Ed’s right-hand she saw all the work he put into making sure the ship functioned smoothly — but it was something entirely different to experience it for herself. Talla had nudged her more than once into promoting someone into the position of XO temporarily so Kelly wasn’t trying to do two jobs at once, but she had refused. Appointing an XO, even temporarily, would be like admitting Ed wasn’t coming back any time soon. Kelly refused to do that.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed by the general lack of contact from Ed. He’d called her when he’d landed safely, but beyond that… nothing. She’d sent a few messages to say she was thinking of him but as the weeks dragged on and each message remained unacknowledged, she stopped. She didn’t want to be more harm than help.
With each day that passed Kelly had less and less energy to devote to anything outside of work. After six weeks of Ed’s absence she spent all of her time either on the bridge or in her room — which was apparently concerning enough that Claire all but demanded her presence at a girl’s night the evening before Kelly’s day off.
“How have you been?” Claire asked, settling onto her sofa with a near-overflowing glass of wine. Kelly had elected to forgo alcohol; wine made her sleepy in large amounts and she was already having a difficult time keeping her eyes open.
She shrugged. “It’s not what I planned, but what has been for the last three years?” Her life since coming aboard the Orville had been a series of twists and turns and altogether unexpected.
“Have you heard from Ed?” Talla asked, not one for niceties when there was a real concern left untouched.
Kelly pressed her lips together, unexpected tears pricking the backs of her eyes. “No. Not since he left.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Talla prompted.
Kelly lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t care as long as he’s healing.”
“I’m sure he is,” Claire said sympathetically. “But it’s a big wound. I couldn’t imagine if Ty or Marcus… disappeared.”
“I know,” Kelly said. She didn’t need to be told how much losing Anaya had hurt Ed; he hadn’t let her see the full extent of his hurt, but she’d witnessed more of it than anyone else had. “I still miss him.” Beyond missing the man she loved, she also missed Ed as a friend and confidante; along with the exhaustion of being captain there was also the omnipresent fear that she was doing something horribly wrong. Sure, the Orville was mostly relegated to transportation missions while her captain was out of commission, but that didn’t mean Kelly couldn’t do something stupid and potentially lethal. If she could just talk to Ed, have him tell her she was doing everything right…
“You two seemed really close when you said goodbye,” Talla offered.
Kelly sighed. She had known Talla was watching when she and Ed talked before they left — as the chief security officer she had to witness all arrivals and departures — but after a month of silence on the subject she’d assumed the conversation was platonic enough not to draw any undue attention.
“That’s a reaction,” Claire commented, raising her eyebrows and taking a long pull of wine.
“We slept together.” Kelly saw no point in burying the lead, and watching the wine spray out of Claire’s mouth was nearly enough to make up for the jumble of questions that followed.
Kelly gave a simplified explanation of what had happened — she and Ed slept together before discovering Anaya had a figment of Teleya’s imagination and decided to wait on rekindling their relationship after that discovery — and sat back against the couch, drawing her knees to her chest.
“You had a one-night stand,” Talla said bluntly, “with your ex-husband.”
“I mean, we’re both hoping it’s not going to be just one night,” Kelly said. “Or at least, we both were.” She’d been convinced when Ed left that he’d wanted to come back to her. Now, with a month and a half of no contact, she wasn’t so sure.
“What changed?” Talla asked. “You were so adamant you two were better as friends.” Talla hadn’t witnessed the disastrous attempt at a rekindled romance, but she’d heard enough of the story to understand why Kelly and Ed behaved differently from most Captains with their XOs.
Kelly gave a helpless shrug. “Life is short, and I didn’t want to waste any more of mine not being with the person I wanted to be with.” Kelly tried not to think of Charly often (the ensign’s death still hurt more than she’d like to admit), but it was hard not to when talking about short lives and regretful romances. “Guess the universe has other plans.”
“Isaac would tell you that the universe has no plans,” Claire said, lifting her glass of wine in a mock toast. “We may disagree on some things, but I’m with him on that.”
Kelly managed a small smile. “I hope he’s right.” She stifled a yawn into her shoulder.
“You’re tired already?” Talla asked.
“Being captain is hard,” Kelly answered defensively.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” Claire asked, immediately slipping into Doctor Finn mode.
“I’ve been getting plenty of sleep,” Kelly promised. “Just not enough to keep up with how crazy this ship can be sometimes.”
“Excessive fatigue can be a sign of several underlying medical problems,” Claire said. “Let me check you out tomorrow.”
Kelly huffed. She didn’t want her day off to be taken up by a doctor’s appointment, especially not when there was absolutely no way there was anything wrong with her.
---
Come home.
Kelly stared at the two words written on her data pad, fingering hovering over the send button. She sighed, deleted them, and wrote instead, I have something important to tell you.
Again, she hesitated before deleting the message.
I miss you, she typed. She mashed the send button before she could talk herself out of it, setting the datapad down on the bedside table and burying her head in her hands. Kelly didn’t expect an answer, but she needed to send something. She resisted the urge to pick the datapad back up and scroll to the results of her medical screening. They hadn’t changed since this morning and staring at them wasn’t going to do anything but increase her anxiety to a potentially dangerous level.
The datapad pinged with an incoming message and Kelly snatched it up, hardly believing when she saw Ed’s name at the top of the screen.
I miss you too.
Kelly swallowed back a sob.
Another ping.
I’ll be back soon.
She wanted to ask a hundred questions — had Claire told him? Was that why he was ready to talk to her now? Was he doing better? What had he been doing since they’d last spoken? — but none of them felt right.
Instead, Kelly typed the only response she could think of: I love you.
She flung the datapad back down, burrowing herself under the covers of her bed. She didn’t want to know his response to that — either way it would make her lose her grip on her barely-in-control emotions.
Kelly pressed her palm against the flatness of her stomach, letting it rise and fall with every calming breath she took.
This was such a mess.
---
“Captain Mercer.”
“Commander Grayson.” Ed forewent her extended hand in favor of wrapping her in a hug, and Kelly sagged into his embrace. She hadn’t wanted to be overly formal, but she worried anything short of cool professionalism and the whole ship would know she was carrying her superior officer’s child.
“You look better,” Kelly murmured. The ghost-like pallor haunting him when he left the ship had evaporated, and while there was still a sadness in his eyes, it didn’t seem insurmountable.
“I feel better,” Ed said. He pressed a surreptitious kiss to Kelly’s temple before stepping back. “I brought you something.”
She tilted her head in askance. She didn’t have much use for trinkets, and as it was, Ed hadn’t exactly been on a tropical vacation where souvenirs were expected.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out an old Earth-style key.
“The other part is being delivered to your room,” Ed said. “But you’ll need this to open it.”
Kelly held out her hand and Ed dropped the key into her waiting palm. Her fingers curled around the metal, warmed by Ed’s body heat. “Should I be concerned?”
“No,” he said, lips quirking into a smile. “I hope you’ll like it.”
“Are you free later? For dinner?” She hesitated. “There’s a lot to catch you up on.”
“I’ve read all the mission logs you submitted,” Ed said. “They helped put me to sleep at night.”
Kelly snorted. “Thanks.”
“Not your fault the admiralty turned you into a glorified cargo hauler,” Ed said.
“Still… dinner?” Kelly asked, not sure how to emphasize that there were more personal matters to talk about as well.
“Yeah, dinner. My place?”
“Sure.” An undignified butterfly fluttered in her stomach and Kelly didn’t have the strength to squash it. It was just dinner, with the same person she’d had dinner with hundreds of times before. It would be fine.
---
She was late.
She hadn’t meant to be late, not for her first meeting back, but Kelly had returned to her quarters and immediately found herself distracted by Ed’s gift. It didn’t look like much from the outside — a nondescript metal lock box with a lock that matched the key Ed had given her — but it was full of letters. Handwritten letters, on real paper. Kelly hadn’t seen this much paper in one place since she’d visited one of the last physical libraries on Earth. A few historophiles still read and wrote on paper, but datapads were altogether more efficient so paper had mostly fallen to the wayside.
She’d picked up the topmost letter and started reading, and from there it was difficult not to read the next letter, and the next, and the next. Ed detailed everything he did while he was away, from his sessions with a therapist to his long walks around Historic Central Park. Even if the letters themselves described rather mundane activities, there was still an odd intimacy to them; Ed had sat down at his desk at the end of a long day, and he had thought about her.
The gift had sparked an idea, and Kelly had sat down at her desk with a pen and paper, anticipating having more than enough time before dinner to write a letter of her own. Letter writing was much more difficult without an undo button, though, and she’d started over more times than she could count.
Hence the lateness.
She hurried to the captain’s quarters, checking the clock as she pressed the doorbell button. Ed opened the doors, giving her a nervous smile as he ushered her into the kitchen.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” he laughed self-deprecatingly.
“No.” Kelly shoved the letter she had written into his hands. “This is for you.”
“Oh!” Ed took the offered letter, pausing. “Should I read this now, or…?”
Yes. “If you want,” she answered weakly. Then, realizing there was no way she could make it through dinner with her knowing and him not, she said, “Actually, just read it.”
Ed unfolded the letter with more care than it deserved, and Kelly’s stomach lurched. Hopefully he wasn’t expecting some great declaration of love, because her letter… wasn’t that. Ed’s eyes skimmed over the words, and Kelly could tell the moment he reached the part of the letter where she announced her pregnancy because he stopped reading, read the same sentence again, then looked up at her for a long moment before returning his gaze back at the paper.
Kelly waited for a reaction, but Ed’s face remained blank. She hadn’t known what sort of response she expected to the news he was going to be a father again, but she had expected some response, and his passivity was disconcerting. Every fear she had about this, about them, came slithering back. Kelly forced them down, ignoring her stinging eyes and burning throat.
“I should get going,” she said after she couldn’t bear the silence anymore. “Thanks for dinner.” Never mind that they hadn’t actually eaten dinner — Kelly just wanted out.
She pivoted, marching out of Ed’s quarters so she wouldn’t do something stupid like burst into tears.
---
The doorbell rang.
Kelly lifted her head out of her hands. “Computer, who’s at the door?”
“Captain Mercer,” came the automated voice.
Well, shit. If it were Claire or Talla, Kelly would’ve pretended not to be home, but she couldn’t do that to Ed. Not when she’d just dropped a bomb in his lap and ran away.
Kelly ran her thumb along the ridges in the key she’d hung on a necklace around her neck. She’d been toying with it, trying not to cry, since she’d left Ed’s quarters. When she was calm enough she didn’t think she’d immediately start crying upon seeing Ed, she went to meet her fate.
The door had barely had time to slide open before Ed was crowding into her space, his hands cupping her face and his lips capturing hers. Kelly went rigid for a long moment before realizing what was happening and sinking into him. She focused on the brush of his hair against her palm when she cradled his head in her hand, the softness of her lips on hers, the solidness of his body when she wrapped an arm around him, and determined this was definitely not a dream (as much as it felt like one).
Kelly wasn’t sure which one of them backed away first, but they were left with their foreheads pressed together, mouths barely a breath apart.
“Hi,” Ed said.
“Hi,” Kelly repeated, choking on a sob.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, trying to pull away. “You said you wanted me to be more of an asshole and I thought this was an asshole thing to do but I guess it was too much of an asshole thing to do and —”
“That’s not why I’m crying,” Kelly said, trying to wipe the tears while also preventing Ed from drawing back. The kiss was part of the reason for the tears, but not in the way Ed thought — she had just (finally) become overwhelmed enough she couldn’t keep her emotions in check anymore.
He stopped in his tracks. “Oh.”
“We should talk,” Kelly managed, dragging her hand across her eyes. Thankfully she’d wiped all her makeup off when she’d first gotten back from Ed’s quarters, otherwise she’d be giving raccoons a run for their money. “And sit,” she added, not sure she trusted herself to be steady on her feet much longer.
“Can I go first?” Ed asked as he led them over to the couch. Kelly nodded; she’d said her piece and ran earlier, and it was only fair Ed got a chance to respond.
“I’m sorry,” Ed said, sinking onto her sofa. “Not for the kiss,” he added when she opened her mouth to reiterate there hadn’t been anything wrong with that from her end. “For how I reacted about… the baby.” The last words were tentative, like he still couldn’t believe he was saying them. “I should have told you then how I felt but I — I wasn’t expecting it and it was overwhelming.”
“How do you feel?” Kelly asked, fidgeting. “I understand if you’re not happy —”
“No,” Ed interrupted forcefully. “Kel, I am so happy. But I’m also — I’m terrified, and confused, and sad, and angry, and so many other things.”
“Angry?” she echoed, stomach dipping.
“At Teleya,” he clarified. “It was bad enough that she took the child I thought I had from me. Now she took my chance to be excited about the child I do have.” Ed cleared his throat. “When I thought about our kids, this wasn’t exactly what I imagined. And I know part of that was us, but part of it was her, too.”
“It’s not what I imagined, either,” Kelly admitted. “But it wasn’t fair to you to leave you like I did just because I didn’t get the response I wanted.” She’d wanted to go back to him as soon as she’d left, but she wasn’t sure how, especially with how unstable her emotions had been — and honestly, still were. Kelly wasn’t sure how much of that she could blame on hormones and how much of it was the culmination of weeks of stress.
“We have work to do,” Ed agreed, “but I don’t want to spend another three years dancing around each other because we’re too afraid of messing up.”
“I don’t want that either,” Kelly said. “I don’t… I can’t do this alone.” Being pregnant was already exhausting and the baby was still barely more than a clump of cells. She couldn’t imagine facing the future without Ed. His partnership had mattered to her long before discovering her pregnancy, and it only threw into focus what she had already known — that she didn't want to live her life without him.
“You can do anything you set your mind to,” Ed said, with the same frank factualness as if he were telling her the sky on Earth was blue. “But you won't be doing it alone.” He reached for her hand and Kelly let him take it, twining their fingers together and squeezing tightly.
Kelly let out a long breath, an unimaginable weight lifting off her shoulders as Ed’s word’s sank in. She never would have been truly alone, between her family and her friends and everyone else she cared for, but she hadn’t realized how much she’d needed Ed to be on board with having a baby until she had his assurance. She could do this. They could do this.
“You know,” Ed said, flexing his fingers in hers, “when I believed Anaya was real, I thought about what it would be like when you met her. How you would’ve loved her, and she would’ve loved you. And I…” Kelly squeezed his hand, a gentle encouragement for him to keep talking. “I imagined you being her mother. Because even then I knew you were going to be a great mom.”
Kelly scooted closer to Ed, not stopping until their bodies were flush against each other. “I meant everything I said about you being a dad,” she murmured, tears threatening again. “I’m sorry that it had to happen like this.”
“Don’t be.” Ed kissed her temple. “You didn’t choose for it to be this way. Neither of us did.”
Kelly nodded, tucking her feet up under herself and leaning further into Ed.
“You okay?”
“Mm hmm.” Her head lolled against his shoulder. “Just tired. I thought for a while it was a running-a-ship thing, but I guess it’s a having-a-baby thing too.”
Ed squeezed her hand. “How long have you known?”
“That it was a baby?” Kelly asked. “A week or so.”
Ed made a pained noise in the back of his throat. “If you had told me, I would’ve come back.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Kelly said honestly. She tipped her chin up so she could look Ed in the eyes. “You needed time.”
Ed lowered his mouth to hers, the kiss soft and chaste. “Thank you.”
“You needing to take care of yourself doesn’t change just because of the baby,” Kelly added. “I don’t want you to think you’re a lesser father because you weren’t here before we even knew it existed.”
Ed pressed another kiss to her lips, decidedly more firmly. “I needed to hear that.”
“And I needed to tell you, so it all works out.” Kelly kissed Ed again, drawing comfort from the familiarity of it all. She could only forget so much about the person she’d spent the better part of a decade loving, and the shape of his lips under hers was not something lost to time.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” Ed asked, his lips still brushing against hers.
“Are you inviting yourself into my bed, Captain?” Kelly teased.
“I’m really taking that asshole comment to heart, Commander,” Ed said. “You might regret it eventually.”
“Doubtful.” Kelly smiled at him. “I’m planning on keeping you this time.”
Ed hummed his agreement. “Let’s go to bed, Kel.”
“Yeah,” she said, “let’s go to bed.”
The rest of the world could wait until morning.