Day 3 (cont)
One arm encircled a woman’s form, his hand rested on her round buttock. His other hand fondled a firm breast so that her nipple came erect. The heat of her body soaked into him. His organ also came erect, pressed against her. "Oh, dear." Her voice was seductive, and sweet on his face.
He adjusted her position atop him. "Yes," he agreed, and pulled her head down for a kiss.
"Give me that!" Bugalu pulled the redhead away, into the darkness.
"Hey!" Smitty found himself sitting in his bed in the dark. There was no indication that anyone else had been there. Blast! I knew I should have had a cold shower. I've got no business thinking - or dreaming - of her like that!
I knew she and Bugalu were an item when I saw them together that first day.
He punched his pillow; flopped down to try to go back to sleep. Just two more days. After shore leave, she'll be on midnights, and I needn't see her again.
Disturbing Dream 2
Day 3 (cont)
She was there when he emerged from the bathroom. "Don't you knock?"
She faced him with a teasing smile. "Why? Aren't you decent?" She wasn't quite decent herself, her boots off, her uniform tunic haphazardly fastened.
Sweat dampened his forehead as her cool hands slid up his naked chest. "What’s gotten into you?" he asked hoarsely.
"Would you like to?" she returned. She leaned against him as she stood on her toes. His instincts took over and he lowered his head until their lips almost touched. "Are you finally going to teach me how this sex stuff is done?"
Surprised, he opened his eyes, jerked back. Gone was the red-hot sexpot. Now she was a very young, very immature little girl.
"Mac!" He awoke with a start, her name on his lips. She's not here. I sent her home with the last of Bear's whiskey. Which wasn’t much. He lay in the darkness to sort his thoughts. That first part was how others see her. I thought I knew better. Because that last part is the real her. An immature innocent.
He touched the hologram frame on the nightstand, and the miniature threesome silently laughed and hugged each other. "Matt, I'm doing my best," he whispered to the other male in the hologram. "It's not easy. She hasn't got a clue what she's doing, most of the time." He sighed and settled deeper into the mattress.
After a moment, he looked at the hologram again. "That's why I became her ninth brother, isn't it? You couldn't handle it alone." He rolled over. "Wish I had someone to share the chore with."
Rumors of Discrepancies
Seeing her supervisor about to leave the mess hall, Abdulla stepped between him and the doorway. "Just a moment, please, Mr Smythe. I need to speak with you." He looks tired. Well, we'll all be happy when shore leave finally gets here.
"Can't it wait, Abdulla?" he asked. His voice was like gravel, almost a warning growl. "I'm due on duty-"
"As am I," she returned. "So I won't take long, I don’t want to find myself on report. My supervisor can be a real tyrant, sometimes." His grimace made her hesitate. That should have gotten at least a half-smile out of him. Move on. If he's in a bad mood, don't waste time. "It's about Lt MacDowell."
He looked up sharply, his scowl even blacker, though his cheeks were pink. "Now what?"
"I've reviewed her files, and I found ... discrepancies."
"What kind?" he demanded.
Foul mood doesn’t begin to describe him this morning. Too late to back out now. "I believe she's been shorted on shore leave-"
"Ridiculous!" His snort dismissed the idea. "Shore leave is regular on a tug. Now, excuse me. I've got work to do." He moved around her and was gone.
Flabbergasted, Abdulla stared after him.
"Headed for the bridge, Lieutenant?"
Abdulla turned. Capt Burke waited for an answer. "Yes" Her mind whirling, she started for the turbo lift while her own mood blackened. "Whatever the reason for his foul mood, it's no excuse for just blowing me off!" she muttered to herself.
"Wasn't Mr Smythe able to solve your problem?"
Abdulla looked up, surprised to find the Captain walking with her. How do I answer that? If I complain, I betray a superior. If I don't, I perpetuate a terrible injustice.
"I noticed that Mr Smythe is ... preoccupied this morning," the captain went on. They entered the lift together, and it started for the bridge. "I don’t think the auxiliary bridge is going as well as he had hoped. Since he’s busy, perhaps I could offer some advice regarding your problem?"
She's given me an opportunity. I just have to be careful how I say it. "I'm sure you're correct, Captain. Mr Smythe did seem to be in a hurry. I may not have explained myself well."
"Explain it to me. I'm not as preoccupied as he is."
Abdulla swallowed. "As I tried to explain to Mr Smythe, I've reviewed Lt MacDowell's files."
"Thank you. However, I found several entries that seem to indicate she did not receive the normal number of shore leave days that a tug's crew member would have received. I know that shore leave is usually very regular on a tug-"
"Get to it," the captain urged. "How many leaves were denied in the past year?"
Staggered by the abrupt question, the communications officer had to breathe before she could answer. "At least 11 of the 13--"
The captain gave a low whistle. "She was on someone's shit list." She gave a curt nod. "Okay. I'll convince Smythe she needs all 3 days of shore leave. That's the best we can do at this point. I'll convince him it's his own idea."
Abdulla took a disk from her pocket. "I have proof-"
"Don't need it."
Burke regarded the lieutenant. "If you've misrepresented the facts, lieutenant, then you'll be on my shit list, won't you?"
"I imagine so," she agreed softly.
"Then we understand each other." The turbo lift door opened, and they emerged onto the bridge.