Time, as it turned out, was not on my side. No matter how much time I spent buried in paperwork, or asking to hear unnecessary and heavily detailed engineer status reports, or talking with Spock about any and everything that he could drone on and on about forever, or even on the bridge making decisions and giving orders, it was never enough. Not even close.

Thoughts of Aria always drifted and wove their way through my mind. When I met with officers or crew members. When I read reports. When I ate meals. When I sat alone in the crippling emptiness of my captain’s quarters. She would shore up between thoughts of being full after dinner, or deciding how to effectively improve fuel storage for longer hauls across space.

The one thing that I continued to be grateful for day after day was that I never actually ran into her. Well, when she was awake, at least. Our paths had crossed in the most unexpected and unusual place last week. I had popped down to ask Scotty some questions about the fuel reserves, in order to gather more information for my report back to command, when I noticed he was acting awfully unusual.

He seemed on edge, even jumpy as I asked him a few harmless and relatively easy questions. So when I had finally pushed him on why he was acting so strange, he caved after a few more minutes of denial and admitted to being weird because someone else was there.

That’s when he led me around a corner just past his desk, where curled up on top of two large crates was Aria, sound asleep with Keensner laying on the floor nearby, snoring away. Apparently she’d gotten on well with Scotty, and would come down to the engineering quarters outside of their scheduled lessons to hang out and chat.

The sight of her peacefully curled up, Scotty’s coat over her, struck a nerve deep, deep inside of myself. I was glad she’d fallen in quickly with my crew, finding companionship and friendship easily. And part of me felt so unbelievably hurt that I should’ve been the one offering her a safe harbor to unwind and relax in. The reasons for that being impossible were lengthy, and that impossibility was the main reason why I’d gone out of my way to avoid any and all contact with her since the journey had begun.

I had stared at her in silence for a few moments before turning and leaving, assuring Scotty that I was fine and got all I had needed from him. He tried to press me, explain himself for why she was there, how she’d been struggling and I just couldn’t listen to another word. I walked away, fists clenched and emotions drawn tight in my chest. I barely made it back to my quarters, sliding down the door as it closed and holding my head in my hands as the weight of everything pushed down on me yet again.

And then there was Uhura. The week before last, she’d loudly sat down across from me in the cafeteria where I’d been content to eat my sad dinner alone, and then go about my dismal night. She had another plan entirely. She’d pinned me down with that intense, serious look of hers, and told me I needed to figure my shit out and talk with Aria. And then she told me what had happened the previous night in the corridors of my ship, while I’d been tucked away in my quarters, drinking my sorrows away with sip after sip of whiskey.

“I was walking back to my room after a late night on the bridge decoding some messages that were particularly complex when I passed a hallway that was a dead end. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone sitting on the floor against the wall. It was Aria. She was shaking, crying, afraid that people were coming after her. She’s traumatized, Jim. She has post traumatic stress disorder, and I know I am not the first person to be telling you that. She needs you. She needs you to own up and put your pride aside. To hell with your damn title and to hell with the rules. Figure it out, Jim, before you lose her altogether.”

After a few more moments of staring at me with that deathly serious look of hers, Uhura stood up abruptly and left me alone to finish my tasteless food. My jaw clenched tightly, and I was shooting up and out of my chair heading towards the exit. I speed-walked my way back to my quarters, trying to keep the rising anger inside of me in check until I was at least out of sight of any crew members.

And just as my door shut behind me, I unleashed a punch right into the unforgiving metal of the wall. A barrage of swears escaped my mouth as I doubled over, holding my fist in agony. I nursed my injury that night while nursing a glass of whiskey — the only thing that would comfort me as I couldn’t even go to med bay without incurring the wrath of Bones and his lectures about my behavior.

While I felt as if I were hiding in plain sight, the handful of people on this ship who knew me best were well aware of the situation I’d created. And they were not interested in letting it go, or letting me forget about it for a second. At times, I wished my damn friends weren’t on this damn ship with me. But those moments were fleeting, as they were the only things keeping me anchored to any form of sanity.

So even in such an enclosed environment, with quite literally no escape, at least I hadn’t had the misfortune of being directly cornered by her in a hallway or being taken off guard by seeing her from across a room. I had even managed to find a loophole in the weekly check-ins I had arranged as part of the agreement with Starfleet command to let her come aboard for this mission. Bones.

It had required a lot of pathetic begging and pleading. The man could not be bought, bartered or reasoned with. It was actually far more painful to bring it up with him then to just go through with the damn meetings myself. All his talk about shirking responsibilities and avoiding my feelings. In all actuality, it made much more sense for Bones to be the one doing the weekly assessments. After all, he was the licensed doctor, and was a far better candidate to evaluate her as an unbiased third party.

Given my mindset over the past three weeks, I probably would’ve just deemed her unfit for space travel and had her escorted back to Yorktown on a medical transport as soon as she was healed from her… attack. The word was so guttural, so horribly brutal. It had been stuck in my mind ever since I had read Bones’ official report in the days following their departure. A thorough, incredibly detailed report that had me pouring drink after drink as I read it at night alone in my quarters.

Between trying to decode the cryptic nature of this mission, aligning and realigning crew members based on their specialties and skills, ensuring the success and competency of the cadets on board, and determining whether or not the Enterprise was actually ready for this annoyingly vague mission they’d been sent on, I was spent. Tapped. Drained.

I knew all those weeks ago, after fighting to have her brought on as a part of the crew and learning of her horrible attack, that it was a mistake. There was no capacity left in my brain to have time at the end of the day to nurture and care for a relationship that mattered a surprising amount to me. As badly as I wanted to, as much as it pained me to ignore it, there was no other way. Not to mention the one person who I did want to spend time with, alone and otherwise, was the one person who I should not be spending time with. Per my own agreement with the board of Starfleet.

So in the last three weeks, I conveniently only had time to deal with the seemingly endless amount of tasks and chores around the Enterprise as I struggled to deal with my own personal hell that I created on a very, very small ship that I was destined to be on for the foreseeable future. And in the farthest corner of my mind, I knew that it would come to a head at some point. I knew I couldn’t avoid her forever. But just maybe, with any luck, I could give myself enough time to make more distance between myself and the situation. But life, as it turned out, had other plans.

As I was walking back to my quarters late in the evening with Bones, chatting about the new med bay cadets and their potential for promotion, someone called out after me. Dread gathered in the pit of my stomach, and everything in my already exhausted body instantly tensed. The voice belonged to none other than Aria.

We came to a stop as Bones gave me a look with raised eyebrows and an annoying you-had-it-coming smirk plastered on his face. He made to leave, to keep walking, but I gave him a stern look and mouthed “you’re staying” just as I was turning around to face her.

And, of course, she was a sight to behold. Her pale-blonde hair was drawn up into a high ponytail with stray wisps falling around her face and neck — framing her slightly flushed face perfectly. Her eyes were clear and bright under determined brows as she stood in front of the two officers in… training shorts and a well-fitted Starfleet athletic shirt.

Sometimes it felt as if the universe was begging, taunting me to just jump into an escape pod, desert, and be done with all the demands, politics and complications of being a Starfleet captain. And as I entertained the vision, the dream of leaving this dreaded moment behind and walking coolly to the first escape pod I could find, I took a deep breath while drawing my posture up to its full height. Shoulders square, jaw clenched, eyes critical. Maybe I could make her cut this interaction short if I amplified the cold hearted bastard I’d been in the past weeks by a thousand.

“Cadet. It’s late, and I’m retiring to my quarters. You can formally request a meeting to talk via the portal on your coms. Now if you’ll excuse us, doctor McCoy and I will — “

Her resolve was unbroken by what I had hoped was a fierce, cold demeanor. She matched my posture, squared her own shoulders and stared back at me with a gaze that gathered more intensity with each passing second.

“I have concerns and questions that I’ve been seeking to have addressed for the past few weeks, captain. I have attempted to schedule a meeting through the portal with no success. I happened to see you on my way back from teaching my training class, and determined that addressing you in person — “

“I can assure you, cadet, addressing me in person was not the correct choice. Submit a request through the portal and I will see what I can do about scheduling a meeting sometime in the near future.”

She took a step closer to me, jaw visibly clenched, breathing harder — no doubt from the rising anger caused by my own stubborn, sterile formalities. It took more effort than I thought to keep myself planted firmly, to not yield an inch forward or back. The same conflict I’d been fighting constantly over the past weeks. Listen to my heart and take things further, or do the right thing and get her off this ship to prevent any unnecessary pain for both of us. Instead, I had fallen into the horrible gray area in between. Avoidance.

And now, as both of us stood in front of each other, squared off and looking like we were ready to start swinging, I stood my ground and was ready to continue on into the gray abyss I’d charted us on weeks ago.

“With all due respect, captain, I find it highly unlikely you will formally schedule a meeting with me, as it has yet to happen in the past three weeks. Excuse me if thinking that intercepting you in person would be the next best way to address my concerns about our — “

“I advise you to correct your tone, cadet, before you find yourself with disciplinary action taken against you. You will use the proper channels to schedule a meeting, and you will be able to address your concerns with a third party present to meet Starfleet code. Is that clear?”

The flush in her cheeks had grown much deeper now, her fists visibly clenched at her sides as they shook ever so slightly.

“Captain this is complete — “

“Schedule a meeting properly, cadet, and see yourself to your quarters.”

And there it was. I had managed to outlast her in the shoot out of a conversation. The sag in her shoulders and subtle frown tugging at her lips told me as much. She stepped back as her hands moved behind her back in a formal gesture, looking down at the ground for a moment before looking up to speak again. There was a softness in her eyes, along with a weary, tired look that nearly had my whole hard-ass facade crumbling.

“Jim, look, I just want the chance to — “

“Return to your quarters, cadet. That’s an order.”

Everything in her posture slumped as she turned her gaze back to the ground before looking up one last time to give Bones a lipless smile and a small nod. She turned on her heel, ponytail swishing behind her as she walked down the deserted hallway at a quick pace. When at last she’d rounded the corner, out of sight and her sneakers out of earshot, I finally let my own posture fall as immense exhaustion weighed down on me more heavily than it had in the past weeks since her incident.

“For god's sake, man, have you lost your damn mind?”

“Look Bones, I’ve heard this speech from you an insufferable number of times in the past weeks. I’ve made the choice to stay neutral in an effort to let the whole thing just… fizzle out. And now I’m going back to my quarters so I can get some damn sleep after this nightmare of a day. I’ll see you tomorrow morning on the bridge for the med bay status report.”

And as I finally turned to look at him, I saw exactly what I had expected. The furiously drawn brows, tightly closed mouth and harshly judgmental gaze. Arms crossed across his chest, tension drawn between his shoulder blades like a bowstring. Pissed off Bones. By far my least favorite Bones. Before he had a chance to respond, I clapped him on the shoulder and started making my way back to my quarters. The displeasure rolling off Bones was palpable. I could feel it in the air as I walked past him, and as his eyes bore into my back.

Just as I was about to round the corner to the hallway where my quarters were, Bones called out after me in a tight, frustration-laced tone.

“There’s no running in space, Jim. This ship will only get smaller and smaller. Deal with it before it inevitably deals with you.”

The words made my teeth grind together as I sighed deeply through my nose. Of course the man had a point. One that he had been trying to drive through my skull day after day for the past few weeks. Maybe it was seeing her, talking to her for the first time since the day of our departure from Yorktown. The flush of her cheeks that I’d missed seeing, the undeniable bounce in her step that always fell in line with her mood. Whatever it was, it gave me pause as I stood before the door to my quarters.

Resting a hand on the top of the doorframe, I reached up to undo the collar of my uniform. My breathing seemed to come so much easier as soon as the fabric fell free. Drawing air into my lungs deeply, I ran my free hand through my hair, and then over my face.

Drinking and sleeping deeply were what my body was screaming for. To go into my quarters and sit in the same depressed stupor as I had night after night for weeks now. But I found my feet moving to walk back from where I’d just come from.

Past the spot where Aria had confronted me, past where Bones had just given me the same piece of truth he’d religiously spouted to me each and every day since that dreadful night in med bay all those weeks ago. And now, after walking as fast as I could without running, I stood right in front of the door to her room — the same door I’d seen countless times on the blueprints of the ship when we needed to find space for her. The same door I’d stared at on the same blueprints during my nightly stupor on my uncomfortable couch.

Running one of my hands through my hair and taking a deep breath through parted lips, I raised my hand to knock. And before I could second guess myself, before I could turn and head back to the comfort of my emotionless gray in between, my knuckles firmly rapped on the metal in three quick motions.

This would either start poorly and end poorly, or start poorly and end up somewhere at least slightly better than where we started. Either way, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as painful as the situation I’d put us in now. I was done running, done pretending. And the seconds I spent waiting for her to come to the door seemed to drag on forever. With a look down at my boots, I closed my eyes and hoped that she’d answer. Because hope, it would seem, was something I had just been too afraid to do.

But for her, for this, I would hope. Even if every second waiting outside her door made me into more of a nervous wreck. Even though it made me uncomfortable, made my heart accelerate in a ridiculous way — I hoped she’d at least answer the door. I hoped to get a chance. Just one chance.