The Price of Happiness

He found her still at the bar, a colorful drink in front of her, still in that amazingly gorgeous dress. She seemed lost in thought, swirling her drink from time to time, taking a sip before sinking back into melancholy.

That three-armed bartender that had caught both their attention was no longer in sight but that was no wonder as it was getting late. He just wondered how long exactly she had been sitting over that drink.

But as he was somehow afraid to find out, he refrained from checking his chronometer.

"Hey," he greeted her and when she acknowledged him with the turn of her head he slipped on the bar stool next to her. "Are you alright?"

Her lips curved a wistful smile. "I should ask you the same thing. How is Marie?"

Chris drove a hand through his hair and sighed. "Asleep."

He and Marie had left the party comparatively early as she was still in recovery and wasn't supposed to overexert herself. But when they had finally gone to bed he realized that sleep eluded him and after some tossing and turning he had gotten up again, thrown on his uniform and went out. To collect his thoughts.

"Shouldn't you be with her regardless?" Una asked and took a sip.

"I'm only a comm call away," Chris deflected and eyed that drink. He would have needed one himself.

The events of that day still haunted him. A fake wedding, a fake reality, a powerful being that had turned out to be a child, unfamiliar with interpersonal affairs. But still, his meddling had brought clarity for Spock and Christine.

And now Chris wondered, after having awoken from this fake reality, if these events didn't also bear relevance for him.

He liked Marie well enough, but when he had started his relationship with her he had been at the lowest point in his life. He had just needed somebody to warm his bed. And after he had returned to Starfleet he had felt that he liked having her around as somebody to fall back to. He didn't love her, but her company was nice. In addition she proved to be a good distraction from the direction his life was headed.

But it tugged on him that she seemed to want more than he could give her. Just before the whole Spock debacle had started they had discussed possible assignments of hers. With each one she had expressed disappointment that they would see each other less and Chris had heard the unspoken question for marriage in the way she had phrased it. And he had been so close to proposing then and there, but hadn't ultimately done it.

And now that weddings had been the topic of the day he had started wondering why he hadn't. He had done everything he could to save her from the Gorn because he hadn't wanted her death on his conscience. And he was happy that she would live. But at the same time he was now at a loss how their relationship should continue.

And, as was usual in moments like these, he automatically sought out Una.

But she seemed to be in a strange mood, too.

"You're still avoiding her," Una observed and took another sip.

Leave it to Una Chin-Riley to hit the target right on point. But Chris didn't want to dwell on that. Something else was on his mind.

"Thank you," he said instead and looked at Una.

"For setting you straight again?" she quipped and curved her lips into that half-smile of hers. Chris loved it when she smiled. She had a wonderful smile. At the same time he felt guilty for admiring Una's smile while Marie was sleeping in his cabin.

"No, for… saving her," he said then. "I don't think I've thanked you enough for what you have done."

"It was nothing," Una said immediately and seemed to tense. "I've told you, if it's for Marie you can have as much of my blood as you need."

"Why?" Chris asked then and didn't know why that was the first question that came to his mind.

"Because she's good for you. Besides, that's what friends do." Una took another sip and still managed to retain much of the liquid from her glass.

"She prosecuted you," Chris pointed out. "She wasn't exactly accepting of your species. I was surprised you didn't at least point at the irony of it all."

Una turned to the side now, too, facing Chris. And she suddenly looked sad. She shrugged.

"What would you have me do? I don't blame her for prosecuting me. Everyone did. It's water under the bridge. In the end she accepted the ruling like everyone else."

"You say like this is a normal thing," Chris muttered. And at the same wondered why he was bringing that up now. Marie's behavior towards Una had never sat right with him, but he had deluded himself into thinking that she had learned from her mistakes. And maybe she had as the two women had seemed friendly towards each other in the last three months. But with Una's blood donation the conflict he had with Marie during the trial had come back to memory and this time it stuck in his mind like a thorn, refusing to go away. And he wondered if that was why he hadn't proposed to her hours ago.

"It is a normal thing," Una said with conviction.

"I have always accepted you as you are," Chris then said, attempting to refute Una's point that the ingrained racism against her was anything but natural. That there had always been people who hadn't subscribed to the notion that she was dangerous.

"What does it matter?" Una asked, a bit desperate. "I really don't understand why you're bringing that up now."

Chris swallowed. "I don't know. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

Una pushed the glass towards him, offering some of her liquid. "I get that," she said softly.

Tentatively Chris picked up the glass and took a sip. It burned in his mouth but somehow cleared his head. He pushed the glass back to Una. "Thanks."

She shrugged. "Leave it to me to give you alcohol when you're down," she quipped.

"You're also drinking alcohol," Chris pointed out.

"I'm Illyrian. It doesn't affect me like it affects you," she said, almost automatically, like a defense. Chris wondered if she still followed the cultural significance to drown one's sorrows in alcohol even though she couldn't get drunk. But he didn't comment on that.

And for a while they just sat in companionable silence. Una didn't take more sips, let the glass stir, but looked down on it. And Chris just watched her.

She was stunning in that dress and that hairstyle, golden, regal. He had never seen her wear that particular dress but it absolutely was her style. Una had that extravagant streak that she tried so hard to hide. But from time to time it needed to break free, just as when she painted her nails in the most intricate designs.

"Why did you really do it?" he asked after a while.

Una startled by his sudden question.

"Do what?" she asked.

"Give Marie your blood, without any fuss," Chris said.

"I've already told you…" Una started but he lifted a hand to interrupt her. "I know you. I know you're a good person. But you're not that good."

For a while Una didn't say anything. He saw her breathe, saw her ponytail sway from her breathing.

"I want you to be happy," she finally said. And it sounded so sad and defeated. Then she turned around again and faced him, suddenly angry. "Chris, what is the point of these questions? Why is that so important?"

And Chris had no answer to that. He just knew that it was.

Una wanted him to be happy to the point where she disregarded her well-being for him. Taking liters of her blood had drained her although she had never as much as complained. And it must have taken a mental toll on her, too, considering who her blood was for. And still she had remained chipper and light-hearted about it.

"You're a good friend," Chris said then. He knew he should have said something else, but he didn't. "I'm glad to have you." He patted her on the back.

"I'm glad to have you, too," Una said very softly. Then she emptied her glass and put it back on the counter. It seemed like a signal that their conversation was finished.

Chris got up and offered Una his arm. She took it.

And on the way back to his cabin the only thing he could think of was that she wanted him to be happy. And he still wasn't.