"I am too." Jim flips through something on his touchscreen; unseen, he's glancing at her records again.
"Here's what I experienced: you intuited what I wanted without having to stop and ask for clarification in front of the doctor down there. You read a room well. I'm going to guess, based on your documented history, you're used to doing that but then having the goal posts moved when your CO ends up surprised you did the right thing."
This time she exhales a slow sigh before answering because he's hit the nail on the head very precisely. "That sounds right, yes."
A frown, but it's not directed at him. "I've been cycled through so many COs that watch me do good work and then find some kind of excuse to call me a liability. It's not my place to talk badly about them, but it's frustrating to know I do good work and to have it not be good enough."
She smiles, wry. "I know a lot of them see me being assigned to them as a punishment."
That much Jim is certain of. But, and it's important they get through everything: "You could be. I've been where you are. I know how it is, doing what you know is right and having people do everything in their power to block you, because they don't like you personally, they're unable to reconcile the task at hand versus regulations, or they're judging your family."
Being the Kelvin baby isn't quite being John McClane's kid - different problems, wildly different ends of the spectrum, but it leaves him uniquely sympathetic none the less.
"It's easy to develop a chip on your shoulder. Or get truly reckless once you've got room. I don't want that for you."
Lucy is quite sure she's never heard anyone tell her that in so many words. You aren't a liability. Maybe it's clear on her face like it was earlier, but she tries to rein it in.
Everything he says makes sense though. She knows it - knows that as much as she says she's not like John, she really is. It's not the same, not nearly, but there's the potential. She also knows that Jim's sympathy isn't fake. Of course it isn't.
She nods. Once. "I could complain until I go blue in the face about how it's fine, how it doesn't get to me, but that doesn't change the fact that it does." She wants to pause, to look away for a split second, but she doesn't, gaze even and unflinching. "All I want is a chance to stay at the same post long enough to show that I won't become a liability if I'm kept on. I want to keep doing good work."
"I think that you're going to do well under my command," Jim says. "The adjustment will inevitably be rough just due to the nature of the mission, but..." he shrugs, amiable. "You seem well-suited for exploratory tours. You're adaptable, and I think you'll like the stability. Not uh, really a routine, we're either up to our necks our there or doing nothing for weeks at a time. But that's life."
When the tension drains out of her Lucy feels empty for a split second because she doesn't know what to do without it. But she smiles finally, properly, something a little sharp but mostly pleased. (Excited.) "I don't mind an adjustment period at all." That's an understatement. "Thank you, captain." She wants to maintain a sense of calm because outbursts can be embarrassing but—
There's a short moment where she drops her face into her hands not because she's going to cry, but because it muffles a brief incoherent noise into them. It's not a lot, more like someone letting out frustration than anything, but she's had a lot of frustration over the past few years.
Then, suddenly: "Sorry," she breathes out. Definitely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, that was really unprofessional. It's just no one's ever wanted me around before. I'll do my best to make sure I live up to expectations."
Jim stays quiet, letting her have that moment without any awkward fidgeting on his end. He wasn't sure exactly how she'd react, but his instincts told him that it was best to do this meeting soon. It's not the first emotional reaction a crew member has had during one of these and he's sure it won't be the last - but it's important, like they all are.
For once, things have turned out all right. Better than all right. The relief she feels is palpable and almost dizzying but she's reined herself back in by now.
"This new day's a good one, Captain." A breath. "And I'm honored for it." She is, and not because of being assigned to the Enterprise or to Captain Kirk specifically. There's a lot attached to that, but she doesn't care about that. It's the fact that he's treating her like a valued member of his crew already and not like a burden.
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"Here's what I experienced: you intuited what I wanted without having to stop and ask for clarification in front of the doctor down there. You read a room well. I'm going to guess, based on your documented history, you're used to doing that but then having the goal posts moved when your CO ends up surprised you did the right thing."
no subject
A frown, but it's not directed at him. "I've been cycled through so many COs that watch me do good work and then find some kind of excuse to call me a liability. It's not my place to talk badly about them, but it's frustrating to know I do good work and to have it not be good enough."
She smiles, wry. "I know a lot of them see me being assigned to them as a punishment."
no subject
That much Jim is certain of. But, and it's important they get through everything: "You could be. I've been where you are. I know how it is, doing what you know is right and having people do everything in their power to block you, because they don't like you personally, they're unable to reconcile the task at hand versus regulations, or they're judging your family."
Being the Kelvin baby isn't quite being John McClane's kid - different problems, wildly different ends of the spectrum, but it leaves him uniquely sympathetic none the less.
"It's easy to develop a chip on your shoulder. Or get truly reckless once you've got room. I don't want that for you."
no subject
Everything he says makes sense though. She knows it - knows that as much as she says she's not like John, she really is. It's not the same, not nearly, but there's the potential. She also knows that Jim's sympathy isn't fake. Of course it isn't.
She nods. Once. "I could complain until I go blue in the face about how it's fine, how it doesn't get to me, but that doesn't change the fact that it does." She wants to pause, to look away for a split second, but she doesn't, gaze even and unflinching. "All I want is a chance to stay at the same post long enough to show that I won't become a liability if I'm kept on. I want to keep doing good work."
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no subject
There's a short moment where she drops her face into her hands not because she's going to cry, but because it muffles a brief incoherent noise into them. It's not a lot, more like someone letting out frustration than anything, but she's had a lot of frustration over the past few years.
Then, suddenly: "Sorry," she breathes out. Definitely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, that was really unprofessional. It's just no one's ever wanted me around before. I'll do my best to make sure I live up to expectations."
no subject
"It's a new day, Ensign."
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"This new day's a good one, Captain." A breath. "And I'm honored for it." She is, and not because of being assigned to the Enterprise or to Captain Kirk specifically. There's a lot attached to that, but she doesn't care about that. It's the fact that he's treating her like a valued member of his crew already and not like a burden.