by dossier

Notes & Warnings

Geronimo drove with the top down; he did it because it reminded him of the way it felt to be at twenty-thousand feet and Mach 3, or at least the way it would have felt if you could put the top down on the F15.

It was Saturday, and it felt good to be back in Houston where the relentless sun boiled the city, and people did what they said they were going to do, and didn't mask their intentions in mealy-mouth lawyer talk.

I-45 was just at its regular level of busy, and he could easily weave in and out of the traffic travelling at half his speed. Eventually some cop was going to have an aversion to his need for speed, and he'd stand and take his licks, even though his dress whites wouldn't impress said law enforcement. Though getting a moving violation wasn't the best idea for a newly unemployed Chief Medical Officer's dossier.

The closed-door Senate Oversight committee meeting had been brutal. He'd tried to answer the questions in his forthright manner, but they had, in the end, decided that his resignation was necessary. They'd let him keep his full pension for non-active Air Force personnel, but the amount was the usual government-generous.

He'd have to go job hunting. Maybe it was time to leave medicine, it was always his second love, and get a new, third career. The best thing about top secret Senate dismissals? It didn't have to go on your resume. The worst thing? It stung, and he'd never be able to explain to anyone what happened unless they had been there.

The University of Houston loomed on the left quickly, and Geronimo made a snap decision and exited the freeway. He threaded his way through the traffic on Lockwood, and turned on Navigation. It was time to drown the script in his head, wash the ink off and get a clean slate, and there was no solvent on earth like a Ninfarita.

The cell phone caught his eye as he reached for the gearshift. Savannah. He hadn't called her last night when he'd flown into Intercontinental, and had been trying to avoid thinking about her all morning. She would want to try and fix things, and he knew that his leaving NASA wasn't fixable.

He wasn't sure if things between them were fixable, either. Dr. Bailey, for all her science degrees was still impulsive, hot headed and her career to date hadn't required very much intensity. The free spirit in her had been attractive, he would never admit that he was jealous of her attitude. Being an astronaut, and then doctor, and fighting his way up to Chief Medical Officer had required intensity of concentration and passion, personal and physical that was at odds with the way she operated.

He dialed her number as he closed up the Corvette, and set the alarm.

Maybe it was time for more than a new career, this time he'd reached own threshold.


| Read Comments | Post Comment |


Fandom: Threshold

Category/Rated: Gen, G

Year/Length: 2003/ ~500 words

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.

Summary: A short post-movie vignette to the movie of the same name.

Author's Notes: My original cover.

Beta: *snorfle*

| Home | Stories | Sitemap O'Doom | Whazzup? | email dossier |

Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional