A Tough Question

Lieutenant Commander Tyra had just been released from Sickbay three days ago, yet she didn't feel like leaving her quarters to go to work. She had been thinking a lot about what happened in Sickbay and she wondered if she could actually go up to the Major and ask for another "transfusion". She shook her head as she went over the reports on the Slipstream drive. It was too soon to ask. She still had some of the formula left from the doctor. She could take that until she got enough courage to ask. Or until another situation happened.

Tyra growled and tossed the data PADD on the coffee table. She had never had to ask before. She just took. Of course, Teryek was her mate at the time and she didn't have to ask. She stood up from the couch and began to pace. It was crazy to be so fearful. It was her life she was putting in danger. If she didn't get what she needed, she could easily die.

"Stop it," she scolded herself as she stopped in the middle of the living room. "I can simply ask. That's all."

Before she could change her mind, she tapped her combadge.

"Lieutenant Commander Tyra to Major Phanan."

[Major Phanan here. What can I do for you ?]

Tyra took a deep breath and answered before she could stop herself.

"I need to talk to you. Can I meet you in an hour?"

[I'll see what I can do. Major Phanan out.]

Jon tossed a PADD on to the end of his desk and rose from his seat. His BDU shirt was draped over the back of his chair, and his cap hung on a coatrack near the door. With Tyra calling, he could pretty much guess what she needed. He checked his chronometer and noticed that only five days had passed by since their last encounter.

"I thought she could go a month without 'feasting' again," Jon spoke aloud to himself. Shrugging it off, he noticed that it was coming up on an hour after the communiqué and grabbed his shirt and hat. He made his way out of his office and towards the mess hall.

Arriving in the mess hall, he saw Tyra sitting alone at a table near the forward facing viewports. She motioned for him to join her, and he made his way across the hall. He noticed he was still attracting a few looks from the Starfleet crewman, but he had grown accustomed to it. He mentally reassured himself that Starfleet Academy was still never able to beat the Marine Cadet Corps in old American style football.

"I do hope this meeting isn't for what I think it is," Jon said, sitting down. He folded the brim of his cap in half, and shoved the hat into his pants pocket. He then started to roll up his sleeves.

"No, no," Tyra smiled softly. "I'll be all right for another few weeks or so. This is about us."

The words struck Jon as a slight shock. He wasn't expecting that phrase. Originally when he was briefed in Sickbay, he figured that this would be a short term remedy to Tyra's problems. He would donate blood from which the right enzymes or whatever could be synthesised and then given to her. Now, he learned that he would have to give a regular transfusion once a month to keep Tyra from biting everything that moved. "Really? What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, as you can imagine, we're both in an awkward position. On my side, I need enzymes in another person's blood to survive. Teryek supplied that to me, but now he's dead. On your side, you have a person that is asking you to be her partner,"

Jon raised an eyebrow at her.

"Let me rephrase that. Someone asking you to be a donor. Granted, I don't think I'll ever find a way to fully repay you for what you're doing."