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He found her right where he expected her to be, sat on the picnic blanket in the clearing of the trees. It was early afternoon so it was still warm and there was a slight breeze. He could hear the birds in the trees. Late spring seemed to be her favourite time of year to chose. Not too hot but with the promise of warmer longer days to come. Almost like a rebirth after the cold harsh winter. A winter he had weathered with her. But here right now it was about peace.
As he got closer he realised she was humming to herself, slightly swaying, if it wasn’t for the movement of her soft dark curls he wouldn’t have noticed. He knew which song, he had heard it often enough. It always seemed to be there in the back of her mind. Bringing her comfort. It had surprised him the first time he had heard her sing it in her native tongue. So used to hearing her talk standard. It was exotic and very mesmerising. She had the voice of an angel. Something she didn’t share with anyone else. He so loved the pieces of herself that she kept only for him.
As he got closer she turned to look at him and the breeze caught her hair and covered her face. Raising a hand she managed to tuck it behind an ear and he watched the smile slowly grow on her face. They were never sure if they would both be able to get away and steal these moments together. Every one was so precious. A moment away from the war and all the pain and death. In these moments it was just the two of them, nothing outside of the holodeck existed.
She had taken her jacket off and was just wearing her blue undershirt. She would have loved to have left the uniform behind and be wearing something simple and elegant. Something she knew he would appreciate but they both knew they could be called back, ripped out of this paradise at a moments notice. He sat on the blanket next to her and removed his own jacket. Folding it, he used it as a pillow and laid down. Within minutes she had her head on his shoulder and her body had moulded into his. He felt the caress of her mind against his. No words were needed between them, they each spend too much time talking.
No one had battered an eyelid when she had moved into his quarters and into his bed at the beginning of the war. They had been dancing around each other for long enough. In the current climate tomorrow wasn’t promised so they embraced each night as if it may be their last. Taking the time to live in each glance, each touch and each kiss.
Too soon the red alert sounds and they have to drag themselves away from this moment. Hoping there will be another one.