Post 401: Look Up

Stardate:70818.2330
Title: Look Up
Authors: TC Blane and Lt. Grace
Scene: Quarters of Blane/ Conference Room, Independence (one last time!)Time: Following "Sachal"
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TC sat alone in his quarters. It was dark except for the low glow of the various status lights of the consoles on his desk.

He sat in his plush recliner chair, an antique from the twentieth century. He normally was not one for keepsakes but he had fallen in love with this particular piece of furniture years before and it had been with him ever since.
Classical music played softly in the back ground and he held a glass of liquid in his hand.

He swirled the brownish fluid around in the glass in rhythmic circles. It was good bourbon, aged perfectly. He took another sip and leaned his head back closing his eyes. He went over the upcoming event with February Grace in his mind once again.

He knew that she needed his help, that he had been asked to help. He hesitated at first, not out of fear for himself, but out of concern. It was true that he was uncomfortable with surrendering not only his body but also his mind. He was sure that all involved were experienced and very professional. It was not their skill that concerned him.

He was a product of Starfleet special operations training. Part of that training consisted of several weeks on Vulcan. There he not only received training on how to resist mental torture but he also submitted to several mind melds during which mental barriers were placed into his mind to prevent secret information from being removed.

He hoped those barriers would not pose a problem.

He glanced up at the clock. It was time.Finishing the bourbon in one long swig, he stood and headed to meet the personality he would be hosting.

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February was completely exhausted. But for the first time in as long a time as she could remember, it was a good kind of tired.

The only host left to talk to was Grace's very first, Gentry.

She envied him in a way. Being the first to be joined with Grace, Gentry had not had to deal with any of the baggage of previous hosts.

Yet, that envy was tempered by the incredible pride she felt when she thought about the life that he had led- both before and after he was joined with Grace.

She couldn't remember in her current state, but from what she had read about him, he was a man's man. Charming, handsome to be sure. The strong, if not silent type. He was quite outgoing and had a natural charm that made him quite a hit with the ladies.

But above all that, he was brave. A fireman. A first-responder who saved many lives in the course of his daily job. He was strong. He was competent. He was stable.

He was all of the things she believed in the past that she was not, and so badly wanted to be.

Rigin came into the room, and he looked at the young woman with sympathetic eyes knowing how weary she was.

"Just one more. Are you ready, Bru?"

She nodded. It all came down to this.

TC Blane entered the room, and glanced at February now. He was feeling even more uneasy at the thought of turning over his body to the consciousness of another being. But he would never desert a fellow Starfleet officer in a time of need.

He was offered a seat and he gladly took it. He leaned forward and whispered to Grace. "If I wake up from this with a tattoo or my head shaved into a Mohawk I'm holding you personally responsible." He grinned.

February laughed, and she nudged him gently with her elbow.

"After carrying my sorry self all over Trill this is the easy part," she had only found out that TC had literally carried her out of the Symbiosis Commission at risk of his own life and limb when Rigin told her moments ago, just before TC arrived.

"Thanks for that, by the way," She looked at the floor shyly. "Hopefully this is the last time I'll ever have to ask you to carry either me, or my baggage."

Rigin stood between them, closed his eyes and repeated the ritual chant one last time.TC opened his eyes, jumped up from the chair and looked around the room. The first thing he'd noticed was the orange glow of a flame before him- and in his mind he instantly went into fire-fighter mode.

"Flames, this way! I need more hose, I can't reach the-" he barked, but then he blinked a couple of times in rapid succession, took a closer look at the ceremonial altar and laughed.

"I guess using a fire hose to put out one zhian'tara candle might be overkill?" he flashed a smile that revealed him to be completely open, and unguarded. It was such a contrast to the smiles that February had seen from time to time on the all-business-military-professional TC Blane.

"You must be the new Grace."

"February," she said, offering her hand. He shook it and wrapped his second hand around it as well.

"You're so young!" He sighed, "Was I ever this young?"

"You were younger than I am when you were joined with Grace," she said, reading from a PADD containing his profile. "Twenty three."

"So I was."

Rigin had left, but re-entered the room pushing a trolley that had a large silver dome over it.

"What's this?" Bru asked.

"Something from your friend Mr. London. He thought you might be starving about now."

"I am!" February laughed. She gestured for him to bring the cart forward. "Please, Gentry, are you hungry? Join me for some dinner."

"Sure, thanks."

*Now this is freaky * TC though to himself about the experience of listening to his own voice speak as someone else.

"Oh you'll get used to it. Just relax and enjoy the experience." Gentry responded, drawing a look from Grace and Rigin.

TC, or Gentry, smiled "Sorry, my host, TC Blane is rather strong willed. I can hear him clearly."

February bit her lip and tried not to giggle. "You should be glad that hearing him is all you can do, TC. Earlier poor Dabin Reece was having a very spirited argument with him selves. His selves? I don't even know how to phrase it."

"Sorry I missed it. Was there something specific you wanted to ask me, while I'm here?" Gentry/TC asked, as he sat down and began to cut into a lovely looking filet mignon wrapped in bacon that London had sent, and February poured him a glass of wine.

"Wow, well, let's see." She rolled her enormous eyes up toward the ceiling. "You see, I have nothing but respect for you. I'm, kinda, actually a little, well, a lot- awestruck to get to talk to you, Gentry," February admitted. "The work that you did, saving lives, every day," she reached across the table impulsively, stopping his fork just before it reached his mouth as she grabbed his wrist emphatically.

"I have more respect for your work than that of any other Grace host, including myself. And not just your work. The way you held it all together- being joined, eventually getting married, having children, high stress job- how did you do it?"

He smiled warmly. "If something is important enough to you, you make the time and put forth the effort."

He leaned his head forward and plucked the piece of meat off of the fork tines with his teeth and chewed vigorously. His smiled faded slightly. "What do you mean that you respect me more then your self?"

His eyebrows shot up, as TC's persona jumped to the forefront once again.

"Yeah! that's a good question. You need to have respect for your self above all else otherwise your are dooming yourself to failure." TC stopped, suddenly realizing that he was intruding and allowed Gentry to regain control.

"Sorry about that," Gentry said, "but the man has a good point."

February chewed her bottom lip nervously. "I, I guess I just," she stuttered a little.

"I've always been looking, everywhere it seems, or so it has recently been brought to my attention," she grumbled, remembering her mind-link with Salvek. "That I seek attention and approval from strong male figures, because of things that went on with my Dad when I was a kid," she confessed. "I guess it's easier to respect you than it is to respect me because all my life, all I ever heard was that I wasn't 'enough'. I wasn't smart enough. I wasn't good enough, I wasn't-" she stopped. "Any of the things that you are. Either of you,"

She was speaking to TC as well as Gentry now, valuing his input at this point as much as her previous host's.

He smiled. "You know it is good to seek the advice and opinions of others in ones life, and those opinions and advice should be listened to. But not necessarily taken as gospel. Everyone will be critical of everyone else, it is the nature of the universe." He grabbed her hand. "But it is what you know about yourself and your own opinions and advice to yourself that matters."

Once again TC moved to the forefront. "Exactly. Look if you were not smart enough or good enough, why are you here?" He rolled his eyes. "The last time I checked, Starfleet Academy was not allowing slackers to graduate. You got yourself here with out any useful help from you father it seems."

He squeezed her hand. "Now if you start doing things for yourself and not for him, just think of what you can accomplish."

He nodded as TC allowed Gentry to take over once more.

"And that is good advice not only about your father but also in dealing with the remnants of the rest of the Grace hosts. You have to do for you. We are just along for the ride."

"Along for the ride. I never thought about it that way."

"If you don't think of it that way, we'll all bog you down. I've seen it happen to other joined Trills," he warned her gently. "I know it's hard sometimes. But there's a quote I always liked and I want you to remember it. A famous athlete from Earth said it, his name was Michael Irvin. He said, "Look up. Get up. Don't ever give up."

She nodded, and suddenly jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around TC. "Thank you so much," she said softly. "I can't begin to explain to you the gift you've given me today. Both of you."

"Just keep your eyes up, and forward," Gentry replied, "And make it a hell of a ride."

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Lt. (SG) TC Blane
Chief of Operations
USS Independence NCC-90791

~and~

Lt. (jg) February Grace
Helm/Flight Controller
USS Independence NCC-90791

NRPG: Thank you, TC. This was such a gift. ~FG