Nostalgia or Home Sickness

Posted on Sun Mar 9th, 2025 @ 7:54pm by Lieutenant Adrianna Baciami

1,994 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Stars Around the Well

Vance had dealt with failing warp cores, collapsing EPS conduits, and the occasional near-death experience, but nothing tested his patience quite like watching Adrianna Baciami work herself into the ground. Since the start of this mission, she had been running on fumes, barely pausing long enough to eat before exhaustion claimed her. He’d lost count of the nights he’d found her slumped over her desk or the dining table with a plateful of food in front of her, too drained to make it to her quarters or too drained to even eat. He had simply scooped her up and carried her to bed himself.

Tonight was going to be different. He was determined.

He hadn’t asked for permission– because if he had, she would have insisted she was fine. Instead, he had checked the duty roster, found the smallest gap in her ridiculous schedule, and made his move, even making some deals with her deputy and other members of the department.

When she staggered into her office after yet another mind-numbing session of looking over readings for their buoys, she found Vance waiting, arms crossed, jaw set in that particular way that meant he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She almost went to instinctively reached for a weapon, having not grown out of some habits from being undercover, but seeing it was him, relaxed with an apologetic smile, “Amore mio, I–”

"You," he said, striding forward before she could even attempt an excuse, "are taking a break. Right now."

"Vance, I don’t have–"

"You do," he cut her off, voice firm but gentle, "because if I have to carry you to bed again tonight, I swear I’m strapping you down and making you sleep for a full shift rotation. I may even have the CMO lend me something to knock you out with– he seems reasonable."

Her tired eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and irritation, "you wouldn’t dare."

"Try me."

Adrianna couldn't quite read if he was being serious but with how curt his words were, and just how controlled he looked, she didn't want to risk it. Before she could protest, he took her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and led her out of the office. She didn’t resist– not really. He could feel the tension in her frame, the way she wanted to argue, but she was too exhausted to fight him properly.

By the time they reached the observation lounge, she was leaning against him, her body betraying how much she needed the break. The stars stretched out before them, vast and endless, and in the dim, golden glow of the room, he pulled her into a chair and set a warm meal in front of her.

"Eat," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She sighed but picked up her fork, "You’re a stronzo, you know that?"

"And you’re stubborn," he countered, knowing what stronzo meant, settling opposite her. He watched her with quiet satisfaction as she took her first proper bite in what was probably hours, "but I love you, so I’ll fight you on this as many times as it takes. We might not be married properly, but see that tattooed ring on your finger? That means you're mine, and I look after what is mine."

Her gaze softened, exhaustion momentarily giving way to something warmer. She reached for his hand across the table, giving it a squeeze. "You really carried me to bed?" she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips, “I thought I'd gone into autopilot.”

"Three nights in a row," he confirmed, "and if you don’t finish that meal, I’ll inevitably do it again."

She laughed then, the sound quiet but real. As she ate, as they sat together in the peaceful glow of the stars, he knew he had won– at least for tonight. Vance leaned back in his chair, watching Adrianna slowly work her way through the meal he’d all but forced upon her. The quiet hum of the ship surrounded them, the stars outside stretching into infinity, and for a moment, he just let himself enjoy the simple pleasure of seeing her take a break.

Then, with a smirk, he broke the silence. "You know," he mused, tilting his head, "this feels like a bit of poetic justice."

Adrianna arched a tired brow at him, still chewing, "poetic justice?"

He gestured between them. "Think about it. Back on the Pendragon, I was the one running on fumes, skipping meals, pushing myself too hard. And you? You were the one dragging me away from consoles and the pilot chair, forcing me to eat before I passed out on the deck and making sure that I actually went to my room to sleep– you even slept in my doorway once,” he leaned in conspiratorially, "pretty sure you even threatened to stun me or drung me once or twice."

She swallowed and let out a quiet, amused chuckle, "you deserved it."

"Maybe," he admitted, grinning, "but that means this is revenge, really. The tables have turned, Capo." He drew out the Italian nickname deliberately, his voice warm with teasing. "I used to be your captain, and now look at you– head of department, running yourself into the ground, and me having to clean up after you."

“Firstly, I'm no capo,” she rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it, "secondly: you're exaggerating."

"Am I? Who carried whom to bed this week?"

Adrianna huffed, shaking her head, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Madonna, fine. Maybe the roles have reversed a little,” she pointed her fork at him, "but I never made it this bad for you. You were just stubborn."

Vance let out a low chuckle, "And you’re not stubborn as hell?"

She narrowed her eyes, but he only grinned wider, "besides, I seem to recall a certain someone all but dragging me to the mess hall back then, sitting across from me with her arms folded until I’d finished an entire heaped plate of some hearty pasta thing. And if I didn’t? You’d recite some medical journal nonsense at me until I gave in."

Adrianna smirked, "they were very compelling regulations and journals."

"I'm sure they were," he squeezed her hand, his voice softening just a little, "but it wasn’t really about the regs and journals, was it? You looked after me because you cared."

She exhaled, her thumb brushing over his knuckles, "of course I did, Vance. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself when it came to you."

He nodded, eyes warm with something quieter, something deeper, "well, now it’s my turn."

Adrianna looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head with a soft chuckle, "I should’ve known you'd be un cazzo a riguardo."

Vance smirked, "you love it, really."

She let out a dramatic sigh, but her grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly, "maybe a little. I've missed being taken care of."

He lifted their joined hands, pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles, "good. Because I’m not stopping anytime soon."

Adrianna set down her fork with a satisfied sigh, eyeing the chronometer on the wall. "Four minutes to spare," she murmured, looking back at Vance with a small smile.

He arched a brow, "not bad. I was fully prepared to shove the last few bites into your mouth myself before letting you go."

She smirked, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm, "you’d have tried to manhandle me?"

His grin softened into something more familiar, something warm, "damn right, I would’ve."

She studied him for a moment, fingers idly tracing the rim of her plate. "And you?" she asked, voice quieter now, "how are you doing? I keep hearing you talk like you're on the Pendragon in your sleep. Are you missing the Pendragon?"

Vance exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he admitted, no hesitation, "I miss the ship, the crew… the familiarity of it. Being in command had its stresses, sure, but it also had a rhythm, a certainty. Like, we'd never do something this stupid– running into a Bermuda triangle for fun."

He leaned back, his gaze flickering toward the stars, "but some days, I feel like I should be back there, like I left something unfinished."

Adrianna watched him carefully, absorbing his words before offering, "if you feel that strongly, I still have contacts– I could find a way of checking in on everyone. Hell, I could even forge papers so that you could return to your old life."

He shook his head with a small, knowing smile. "I know that I could go back if I asked for your help," he turned back to her, his eyes steady, "but if I’m being honest? I prefer this. You, like this. No secrets, no half-truths, no pretending. I spent so long with you dancing around what we were– what we are– but now? Feels like fate’s finally stopped screwing with us."

“I remember times that you would speak to me about your past, or comment on Italy and the conversation would be cryptic or would shut down very quickly,” he replied, “now, of course, I know why. But all those nights, the almosts, the talks about wanting to retire early– getting married– having children. Adri, it feels reachable now. You aren't Regimmi– you're better. You're not–”

She had been listening, truly, but something about the way he said now struck a deep, unspoken chord in her. Before he could finish his thought, she stood, rounding the table with quiet determination. Vance barely had time to tilt his head in curiosity before she was in front of him, her hands cupping his face, and then–

She kissed him.

It was firm, deliberate, but without urgency. A kiss that told him she had heard every word and that she didn’t need any more conversation to express feelings and thoughts. Her lips were warm against his, and when he exhaled, sinking into her touch, his hands came up instinctively– one resting against her waist, the other threading into her hair.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against his, her breath mingling with his own. "Ti amo," she murmured.

Vance let out a breathy chuckle, his grip tightening slightly, "you really do have the best ways of cutting me off."

She smiled, her fingers brushing along his jaw. "I’d apologise, but I’m not sorry."

"Good," he murmured, his lips grazing hers again, "because I’d be offended if you were."

“You may not be Capitano of the Pendragon anymore,” she smiled, “but you'll always be my Capitano. And I will always be here to reminisce with, ok? I know this transition must be hard, but I'm here– and I will make more of an effort to finish on time and spend my breaks with you, ok?”

“I appreciate it, Dove,” he took a breath as he pulled her closer to him, and pulled her onto his knee so that he could hold her close, “since getting my memories back, I keep getting the desire to find a way to go back. But I can't do it without you– you are more important to me than the Pendragon. I just miss certain parts of the old life.”

She nodded her understanding and cuddled into him, “I still have friends in intel. I'll see if anyone knows how the Pendragon is doing. I occasionally still use old contacts from Freecloud too. If it will help you, that is.”

Vance didn't respond for a few moments. He hadn't thought it would be possible again, “I'd appreciate that. Maybe when we're done with this mission you can try? Might help. I don't know.”

“For you, anything.”

 

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