Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters
are the sole property of Paramount/Viacom. No copyright infringement is
intended.
Pairing: Uber J/7
Content:
This story depicts a loving f/f relationship, though not graphic in
nature. If you are under 18, or this is illegal in your area, please exit.
Rating: PG
Note: Many thanks to L.C., my light at the
end of the tunnel.
CROSSTOWN BUS
By Xan
“Where the hell have you been, Red?”
It wasn’t an easy
question for Elizabeth Hunter to answer while standing with her coat in one
hand, the phone in the other and vainly searching the living room for her left
boot (its disappearance courtesy of Rex, her precocious Jack Russell terrier).
“Jeanie, I’m almost
out the door.”
“No you’re not. Hurry up. James North wants his books done
today. And button up-the flu’s going around.”
“Well, it can just
pass me by.” Elizabeth grabbed her coffee, and after a hearty sneeze, spilled a
bit on her bootless foot. “What next?”
“What’s next is your butt if his year-end accounts are late again.”
“You little monkey,
where’s my other boot?”
“How should I know?”
“Not you-Rex.”
“Drive it yourself if you have to.”
“Anything for you,
honey.”
***
After dropping Rex
off at Linda’s,
The line at 14th
was longer than she’d expected, but
Elizabeth spotted
some of the same old troopers, who dragged themselves off to work every day:
There was Jim- the guy who lived in her building and jogged every morning at
the obscene hour of five; a couple of school kids still too young to experience
life’s heartaches even in good ole New York; a few older men and women, who
went God knows where at this hour. And then there was…
An angel. Elizabeth’s lips
parted, and cold air whooshed down her throat like a cyclone: Three people up
ahead of her, stood the most heavenly creature, golden as the sun above
(actually the sun was in hiding on this frosty day, but the woman radiated
enough light to make up for its absence). Lovely she was; skin a glow of
alabaster, and eyes an unearthly blue. This face told of gentle rain and purple
skies: A sprinkle of salt amid the sweet. A
lovely angel.
She felt a nudge from
behind. The bus had pulled up, but
Touched by the act of
kindness,
Elizabeth dropped her
Metrocard into the slot and said hello to the driver, a man with long black
locks. Ted was his name and he’d fought long and hard to prevent the City from
cutting off his identity. Elizabeth, agreeing, had convinced some of the old timers, on the 7:15 to Tompkins
Square, to write the Transit Authority on his behalf. Ted kept his locks and
the passengers kept their favorite driver.
“Frosty out dere
today, sista. Keep warm, mind you.” Ted’s rich sing-song warmed
“I’ve been riding
this bus for twenty-seven years-long before you were born, Teddy. So don’t tell
me what I don’t know.” It was Iris, whom the heavenly vision had assisted onto
the bus, but Adrienne hadn’t recognized her because of the new red coat she
wore.
“Piss and vinegar,
she is.” Ted frowned, but
“Good morning, Iris,”
she said to the woman, who always sat opposite the driver. It was the first
row. Reserved for the elderly and disabled, they were, but Iris considered
herself neither. She just liked talking to Ted. “I love your coat,”
“Brand new-an early
Christmas present from my son.” Iris beamed, but the young beauty next to her
gazed warily at Elizabeth, giving her a slight chill.
Elizabeth usually
took the seat opposite Iris so she could indulge her hobby of face watching,
but this morning was different: the young Samaritan seated next to Iris, hands
folded primly in her lap, legs crossed at the ankles, looked downright
unfriendly.
Now the stranger’s
pale eyes focused serenely on Iris, as if no one else on the bus existed.
Finding a seat two
rows back, she would have to be content with looking through the window as the
14A sailed out of
Content that Rex was
safe, and Linda had company,
“Driver, please
stop!”
“Not here, lady. You
want I get a ticket?”
Please, not today.
“Please, it is an emergency!”
Ted hit the breaks, and
Elizabeth’s eyes flew open, leaving the soft breezes of
“Oh no, not she. Not Grandmother!” Ted slid under
the rail that enclosed the driver’s seat, and knelt in front of Iris. Her head
lay propped on the beauty’s shoulder, gray hair mixing with the other’s
gold. The young woman held her gently.
“No pulse,” he said. After touching her neck once more, Ted got on his radio
and called for assistance.
The riders got up
without being asked, most dropping their gaze out of respect as they filed
past, though a few-being old timers-
gently touched Iris before leaving the bus.
***
“I’d thought you’d
never get here.” Jeanie grabbed
Jeanie was an
administrative assistant who could give a navy SEAL heart failure. Yet,
“Just about ready,
Liz?” he asked, greedy eyes counting the dollars they would make off Mr. North.
“Yes. Is Mr. North
here yet?”
“Be up in an
hour-accident on the Belt this morning.” Romsfeld’s voice had a gravity to it
that failed reached his eyes.
They waited for
Romsfeld to leave. Then Jeanie rolled her chair up to
“I couldn’t do it.”
Jeanie shuddered. “The girl, is she nice and tall the way you like?”
“Gorgeous. Looks like
a model.”
“A shame about poor
Iris.” Then Jeanie brightened, “At least you met someone.”
“Met? She wouldn’t even let me touch her.”
“What are you doing
touching people on a city bus?”
“It’s not what you
think.”
“You’re going to see
Mr. North soon, so I’ll get his files ready.”
“Thank you, darling.
You’re an angel.”
“And where can this angel send flowers for Iris?”
“I’ll find out,”
Elizabeth was about
to thank her again, but another sneeze got in the way.
***
Work had been little
more than paid slavery today and
Ruby was a genius:
Anything that could be slipped under a piece of crust, Ruby would use it and turn
the concoction into a delicious pie. Fruit, veggies, meat, nothing was safe
from her ovens.
“Hiya, doll.” Ruby
swished over and handed her two packages, one containing turkey pies and decafs.
“Give this to Rex-it’s a combination hat and coat, and a little chew toy for
Christmas.”
“I’d kiss you, but I
have a cold.”
“Howard?” Ruby held
her hand two feet above her head to indicate the indigent’s height. She was
shorter than a flea and round as a butter bean, as her mother always said. And
her condemnation of slackers melted like snow on a warm day when it came to the
down and out. “I gave him a ham and egg pie this morning, but you’re right
honey: Man’s got to eat more than once a day.” Ruby handed over another
delicacy.
Elizabeth nodded, and
dropped some coins in the tip jar on the counter, then went outside.
The man sat on the
ground, back against the wall, his head propped on his knees.
Hard times, hard
people,
***
“One of the regulars
died on the bus today.”
“That’s terrible. And
it’s so close to the Holidays.” Linda’s face glowed with red-tinged shame as
she heard the rest of the story; she knew it’d end up in one of her novels when
she had the need for such a scene. “No more details or I’ll write it down.”
Linda dug into her pie. “How’s your sister doing?”
“She’s due any day
now, and Walt’s hysterical.” Penny and Walter Baker were expecting a Christmas
baby, which brought some much needed excitement to
“Will you have time
to visit
Everyone, even Linda,
had heard from Penny that the baby would be a girl.
“Good, then you can
come to my Soul Mixer.”
Mixers. She hated Linda’s forced
get-togethers. For all
“Don’t give me that
look,” Linda groused. “I know you don’t believe me, but there’s someone waiting
for you. Someone waits for us all.”
“All right, I’ll be there.”
***
The next morning,
After losing the
face-off,
Out in the winter
air,
“Don’t be late for
the bus-we’re taking up a collection for Ted today,” he said, still running.
Though she responded,
he didn’t hear. Jim had on headphones; soothing music to get him through
another tough day on Wall Street, or “Crushing
***
As luck would have
it,
“Where’s Ted?” she
asked Jim, who was hunkered down in his seat, grooving to mellow tunes.
“Don’t know,” he
answered, eyes closed in a jazzy dream.
“You mean the
dred-locked guy?” said Grey Eyes. The
driver shook his head. “Sad thing it is- a young man seeing death like that.
He’s on leave, ma’am.”
Grey Eyes waited
before pulling away from the curb and
Elizabeth, ever the
artist, knew exactly how to do that. She waved.
The woman didn’t wave
back, but nonetheless,
***
New Yorkers. These were her
people;
Elizabeth knew her
last minute trek was silly, but she wanted to pick up a little something for
the Samaritan, who never smiled. It was crystal clear to
A moment of
indecision filled
***
Homeward bound on the
14A was uneventful, but noisy. A bag-laden, shell-shocked mother sat with her
three kids, taking up the front row just behind the driver. It was old Grey
Eyes, and
The youngest, a boy around
two years old, screamed the loudest, but quieted down when
“Bless you,” the
mother whispered to
The kids cried out,
“thank you!” loud enough to split the driver’s eardrums. Then all was blessed
peace again.
When her stop came,
***
Adrenalin still pumping in her
veins, a shaken Elizabeth strode past Linda’s apartment waving briefly at Rex
before heading to Ruby’s Pies and Coffee.
“You cannot enter.”
A long elegant arm clad in winter
white shot out in front of her, blocking her way.
“It’s you!” Elizabeth, though she’d
bought the present, hadn’t figured on seeing the woman so soon. “I have a gift
for you,” she said shyly.
The Samaritan leaned forward, the
necklace gliding over the hood of her coat. And the gem glowed with an eerie
intensity that startled
“Jesus! I guess I’m still reeling
from the accident, or I should say near-accident.”
“Excuse me, Miss.” A man pushed
past
“He is next,” the Samaritan said.
“What do you mean?”
“He saw you, just as you were able to
see me.”
Elizabeth backed up a step, her
hand dropping from the door handle. She stared at the Samaritan, who smiled for
the first time. Just my luck,
An ambulance sailed past, the wail
of its siren piercing
“I will explain everything,” said
the Samaritan, “but first, we must go to a place where no one knows you.”
“I don’t think I want to go anywhere with you.”
In a swift move, the Samaritan’s
hand passed through
The Samaritan nodded.
“The child?”
“He is safe.”
“And the driver?”
The Samaritan did not answer.
“He saw you, and so did Howard.”
“What is your request?” the
Samaritan prompted, glancing at the gold watch on her wrist like a travel agent
booking the next flight.
Elizabeth had never seen gold like
this: shimmering and swirling with vibrant colors, then returning to an
immaculate yellow. “I…” Spellbound, she could not answer.
The Samaritan laid hands upon her,
and
“He knows.” The Samaritan said,
understanding what
Relieved,
“Your administrative assistant sent
the flowers.”
“But how-”
“There is no time; we must go.”
And when Elizabeth gazed up again
at the Samaritan, she found them both standing in front of a café on 54th Street, an establishment she’d passed
many times, but had never entered.
“This is the place,” the Samaritan
said, her voice the forlorn sigh of an abandoned lover.
“Will you come in with me?”
“I…suppose…but…” The Samaritan
looked directly at
Yet,
“It is not usually done.” The
Samaritan gazed down at the pavement, which had the café’s name, La Renaissance, etched on its surface. The
cursive letters glowed like an inviting fire.
A doorman stood under the café’s
awning, dressed to the nines in his black tails, white gloves and silver top
hat. “Ladies, will you be joining us
this evening?” He opened the door, beckoning them with a graceful hand.
“Will you?”
“It would mean a great change for
my soul…something I may not welcome.”
Elizabeth saw deep circles beneath
the Samaritan’s eyes; like ripe berries, a faint blush scored pale skin. And
her skin was cool to the touch, but warmed when
The Samaritan slowly closed her
eyes. And snow drifted down; two flakes falling on her long lashes. Only the brush of Renoir can capture this beauty.
Elizabeth closed her eyes too, painting lines and curves; her thumb
brushing the slight impression in the Samaritan’s chin, her lips touching the
velvet corner of the golden one’s mouth…
Weariness,
The Samaritan paused only a moment
before offering
“Athena.”
“The Huntress.” How
appropriate,
Epilogue
Twenty years into the blush of
youth, Elizabeth Ann Baker left her apartment on
Though she sometimes felt sad in
the city, even afraid whenever she passed La
Renaissance Café, she was drawn to
Snowflakes drifted on this cold
day, settling like confetti on her red hair, stinging her blue-grey eyes, and
turning her sculpted face pink. “Red”, her mother called her, “you’re a carbon
copy of my dear sister.” Then her mother would make the sign of the cross, and
kiss her rosary beads. “So like her….”
Elizabeth Ann grinned as she walked
down
And the heavenly creature, glowing like an angel on this winter’s day,
waited outside Ruby’s Pies and Coffee for her soul mate,
~The End~