Fleeting Escape
Rating: AP13
Summary: Rick and Lisa dodge wedding madness.
This story takes place one week before the opening of "Robotech II: The Sentinels."
"No, no, I specifically requested the salmon, not the chicken.
Of course I'm sure, Mr. Annunzio. Haven't you read the
latest reports on radiation levels in chicken? Hmph, that's
what I thought. Never mind, just get me the fish, got it?"
Lisa slammed the receiver down in its cradle and suppressed
a curse. Why the hell was she dealing with this, anyway?
What had happened to that wedding planner or event creatrix
or whatever she was called...she was in the process of
looking up the woman's number when the door tone sounded.
"Come in."
The door slid open to reveal one of her aides, a perpetually
nervous, baby-faced man by the name of Goudge. "What is
it, Ensign?"
The aide snapped a salute before replying. "It's General
Reinhardt, sir. He requests an immediate update on all mecha
transfers to the SDF-3."
Lisa shook her head in exasperation. "Why is he asking me?
That's Admiral Hunter's department, not mine. The General
knows that."
The ensign's pale blue eyes shifted nervously. "Well, sir, no one
seems to be able to find the Admiral, and --"
"And so you assumed that just because I'm engaged to him, I
know where he is."
"Uh, General Reinhardt thought --"
"I know exactly what he thought, and he thought wrong. Leave
a message with Admiral Hunter's assistant, and he'll get the
message when he gets it. I am not a personal courier, is that clear?"
She knew her tone was a bit harsher than necessary -- it certainly
wasn't Goudge's fault, he was just following orders -- but she'd
had enough for one day.
"Yes sir." Goudge saluted again and made a hasty exit.
Lisa leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, trying to fight
off the headache that had been threatening all morning. Preparations
for the wedding and the SDF-3 launch, both of which were
scheduled for next week, were slowly driving her insane. Well,
maybe not so slowly, at that.
When her door tone went off again a few minutes later she
had to bite back a scream of frustration. "Enter!"
Rick poked his head in the door, a roguish grin on his face.
"Excuse me, ma'am? I was wondering if you could help me,
I'm trying to find my fiancee..." Lisa couldn't help but smile as
he slowly made his way over to her. "She's tall and thin, with
long brown hair, and the most gorgeous green eyes you've ever
seen..."
"Sorry, haven't seen her," Lisa murmured as she rose from her
chair and stepped into his embrace. Their lips met in a lingering
kiss, until Lisa remembered she should probably be annoyed with
him. "Rick, Reinhardt's looking all over for you. He even had
the nerve to get Goudge to bug me about it. He wants a status
update on --"
"I don't care what he wants," Rick cut her off. "I'm here on a
mission, Lisa."
She raised an eyebrow at him and pulled back a little, noticing
for the first time the weather-beaten duffle bag slung over his
shoulder. "What kind of mission?"
"A kidnapping," he said. "I'm here to take you away from
all this."
"Rick, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about you, me, and a picnic," he babbled. " Just
the two of us. Alone. Where no one can find us. The basket's
downstairs in the car. I brought a set of civvies for both of us in
the bag. We can change here and slip out without anyone noticing.
It's the perfect plan."
Her mouth dropped open in shock even as her heart leapt at the
romantic notion. "You can't be serious. Do you have any idea
how much I have to do today? How much we both have to do
today? There're still a million things to get done, and on top of
everything else the caterer called me today and wanted to serve
chicken instead of the salmon, can you believe that, chicken?
Doesn't that man pay attention to the fact that most chickens
are waddling their way around the farms surrounded by a green
glow? And then there's the latest personnel schedule
changes, and --"
Rick took both of her hands in his and kissed her hard, shutting
her up for a minute. Then he said, "That is why we need a day
off. Together. Jesus, Lisa, sometimes I can't remember
the last time we took any time out for ourselves."
She softened. "I know. And I would love nothing better than to
run off with you, to escape, for a little while. But how can we?"
"Easy. We just do. Lisa, we need to do this. For us. And
isn't that what's most important?" His dark blue eyes pleaded
with her to acquiesce, then took on that determined look she knew so
well. "Look, we're going to do this one way or the other. Now are
you going to change and walk out of here on your own speed or am I
going to have to throw the Admiral of the fleet over my shoulder and
drag her out of here?"
"Okay, okay," she said finally, giving in. "Hand me the bag."
***
They managed to slip out of headquarters with nary a hitch, and
it was with glee over their victory that Rick drove them to their usual
spot not far from Monument City -- at least, it had been their
usual picnic spot off and on for the past six years. Neither of
them could remember the last time they'd been there together.
"But it still looks the same," Lisa pointed out happily.
"Yeah, I'm glad some things stay the same," he mumbled. Lisa
shot him an exasperated glance.
They laid out the blanket and started unloading the basket that
Rick had packed earlier that day: apples, grapes, sandwiches, a
bottle of white wine, and a batch of sinfully delicious chocolate chip
cookies, a weakness they shared.
"I knew there was a reason I loved you," Lisa said, biting into one
of the cookies with rapture.
"Hey! Those are for dessert," he said, snatching the cookie away
from her and returning it to the basket.
"I take it back," she grumbled, then laughed when he pounced on
her, taking her in his arms and easing her not-so-gently down onto
the blanket. He kissed her, slowly, languorously, as one hand
traveled down her side to rest at her hip. She wrapped her
arms around him and returned the kiss, closing her eyes and
losing herself in the moment. When he finally released her
mouth they were both breathless.
"Okay, I guess that's another reason," she whispered, smiling
up at him.
"Gee, thanks," he retorted. "Well, I don't know about you,
but" -- he kissed the tip of her nose -- "I'm" -- another one --
"hungry. Let's eat."
"Spoilsport." But even as she said the words she realized
she was ravenous. What had she eaten for breakfast? After
a few moments of racking her brain -- that morning already
seemed like a distant memory -- she recalled the cup of dark,
sweet coffee. Nothing else. Well, that would explain the rumbling
in her stomach. "Pass me one of those sandwiches, flyboy."
While they ate, they talked about unimportant matters, the
weather, the food, Lisa's new haircut. It was as if they were
following an unspoken pact not to speak of the Big Things:
their upcoming wedding, the mission, Rick's increasing
reluctance to accept his position of command. It was comforting,
somehow, to wallow in the little things, to revel in the Normal.
Not their relationship had ever been very "normal" in any case.
When they had finished eating, Lisa leaned against "their tree"
and Rick settled his head in her lap, sighing blissfully. She broke
off a piece of cookie and fed it to him, laughing when he took the
opportunity to lick her fingertips. "You're incorrigible," she said
with a grin.
"Yeah, and you love every minute of it," he countered.
She started to laugh, then the humor fled as she reflected on
the ways she had been trying to change him, especially recently.
Trying to get him to see that command was where he was needed
most, not in the cockpit of a fighter plane. Her own words that she
had screamed at Minmei on that fateful day in New Macross came
back to haunt her, the words that Rick had once taken the opportunity
to throw back in her face: He's a pilot. That's his life.
And what if it came down to a choice, she wondered. Flying, or
me? Which 'life' would win in the end?
"Hey, what's wrong?" Rick's voice intruded on her thoughts. He
reached up to gently caress her lower lip.
"I --" She shirked his touch, avoided his gaze. "Nothing," she
said, knowing that he would know she was lying.
"Lisa."
She forced a smile and looked down at him. "Just the usual,"
she whispered. "You, and the mission, and the wedding, and
everything happening at once..."
He lifted his head from her lap and twisted around so that he
sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. She
gratefully rested her head against his chest, listening to his
heart beat beneath her ear.
"It is pretty overwhelming," he said. "I've...been doing a lot of
thinking these past few days."
"Oh?" She tried to keep the dread out of her voice. Somehow
Rick turning introspective hardly ever seemed to work out well.
His fingertips played absently with strands of her hair, lifting and
smoothing with a gentle touch. "Roy said something to me once,
back when I first joined the RDF. He said that now there was no
more flying for fun, that from then on I'd be flying for the safety
of my loved ones.'"
Lisa stirred in his arms, somewhat surprised that he'd never
mentioned it to her before, but waited silently for him to continue.
"That idea really stayed with me, and I used it to justify a lot of things
to myself. Even used it once to justify sneaking off during duty to
see one of Minmei's performances." He paused. "That was the day
you gave me those pictures of you."
"I remember," she said softly.
He kissed the top of her head before speaking again. "I guess
what I'm trying to say is that Roy's point was never so true as it is
now. And it scares the hell out of me to think that the fate of this
entire planet might rest on us, on our mission."
"It did once before," she pointed out quietly. "And we won."
"But at what price?" he bit out. "The Earth is a radioactive
dustball, with scattered struggling communities of people. What
are we defending, really?"
She pulled away from his embrace, looked at him in disbelief.
"You don't mean that. Would you prefer we sit here and wait for
the Masters to come to us, and then hope we can negotiate a
truce before they start shooting?"
"You know I don't," he said, shaking his head. "I just sometimes
wonder if we truly realize the risk we're taking. If we're doing
the right thing."
"I don't think we can know, for sure, until we're there," she said.
"Rick, I really can't afford to have you flaking out on me right now.
I don't think I can handle that. I need you with me on this, now
more than ever." She got up and strode toward the car, brushing
grass from her jeans and wondering how long it would take them
to get back to the base. She could feel the anger and frustration
welling up inside of her and didn't want to give into it, didn't want
things to go that far.
"Lisa, wait." She opened the car door, ignoring him. "Goddamit,
why don't you ever listen to me?" he yelled. He was at her side
in a moment, breathing hard and visibly holding back his anger.
That was it. She slammed the door shut and glared at him. "I
hear what you're saying, Rick. As a matter of fact, I hear you better
than you can hear yourself. I know what you're saying better than
you do.
"Do you think that I don't have those same doubts, those same
fears? Don't you realize that I lie in bed at night sometimes wondering
if we're really doing the best thing with this mission?" She could hear
her voice getting more and more shrill but there didn't seem to be any
way to stop it. All of the pent-up frustration and anger and resentment
and fear of the past months were finally coming to the fore.
"Don't you realize that all I can do sometimes is go over
and over in my head how well my last command turned out,
worry that the same thing's going to happen all over again and it's
all going to be my fault, my responsibility? God, don't you know that
half the time the idea of being your wife scares the living hell out
of me? I know that everyone around here, including you, thinks I'm
some kind of super woman, but you're all sadly mistaken!
"And the last thing I need is for you to be acting like the...like the
overgrown child that you are and making things even worse!" She
was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she was too
furious to even make the effort to wipe them away.
He gaped at her, obviously nonplussed by her outburst. Self-
absorbed bastard.
"I --" he sputtered. "I...overgrown child, huh?"
It was Lisa's turn to be taken aback. She nodded.
He looked down at his shoes, shuffled them a little in the dirt.
When he looked back up at her she could see that his anger had
fled. "You know I don't deserve you," he said, his voice harsh
with emotion.
She fought back a smile that threatened. "I know."
"Oh, so now you agree with me on something." He grinned,
then let out his breath with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry. I don't know
why we do this to each other."
"Me neither. And I hate it," Lisa said, finally wiping her eyes. "I just
can't have the same old tired arguments with you anymore, Rick.
Not this late in the game."
"So what do we do about it?"
"I don't know," she said honestly.
They stood there and looked at each other for long moments.
Somewhere a bird sang a chittering song, serenading the trees.
A soft wind rustled the leaves and stirred the blades of grass at
their feet.
And they finally stepped into each other's arms.
"I suppose...I suppose we just get through it, that's what we do,"
Lisa whispered against his shoulder. "What choice do we have?"
"I know," Rick said. "You, you, are my life. Everything else...
is just extra."
She didn't answer him. She knew it was understood that she felt
the same way. She concentrated instead on breathing in the warm
scent of him, feeling the soft flannel of his shirt against her
cheek, the rise and fall of his skin in time with the beating of his
heart.
Suddenly, carefully, Rick swept her off her feet, gathering her in
his arms and walking back to the blanket. Once there he gently
lowered her to the ground and joined her there, settling his body
against hers and leaning in for a kiss, blotting away all the anger,
sadness, and resentment, leaving only love and desire in its wake.

end.