Signs of Trouble
Smitty finished checking a connection and looked at where the girl's legs stuck out from under the navigation console. She's too close. When I remember what she looked like in wet clothes - No, I can't think about that, or I'll get another erect- Too late! He kept his back to her and adjusted his clothes. Think about something that has nothing to do with women.
He jumped when she called. "Mr Smythe?"
Keep it short. "What?" Don't look at her. Don't think about her. Don't-
He started across the room before he realized he had. "What's the problem?" He reached the navigation console, stared at her shapely legs.
"Umm. Well, - This is embarrassing." One hand smoothed her uniform tunic over her flat abdomen. He hastily averted his eyes. "I can't remember where I am."
Memory loss! MacGregor warned me. What do I do? What did he say? Take her to dinner? That can't be right! He took a deep breath and lowered himself next to her. It's not her fault. She's ill. So I can't chew her out! "You're aboard the Fireball," he told her quietly. "On the auxiliary bridge."
She bent her legs, then crossed them. Smythe suddenly had a wondrous view of the crotch of her uniform shorts. He felt his own crotch grow tight as she laughed. "I don't have amnesia! But I've been in so many consoles these past few days, and ... uh ... I ..."
"Just tell me what the problem is." He folded his hands together, to keep from reaching for her.
He heard a sigh. "I was working, but ... got distracted."
Daydreaming about Bugalu, I suppose. He realized she had hesitated a long time. "Happens to everyone." He was dismayed at how gruff his voice sounded.
"Do you-?" She stopped, switched her legs around. "Anyway, I can't remember if I'm in the weapons or the science console."
Is that all? "Navigation," he told her in relief. With a final involuntary glance at her abdomen, he prepared to get up.
She groaned, and he wondered what was wrong now. "Going to force me to work it out myself, are you? Well, I suppose that's fair. Okay, let me take a good look here-"
He sank back in surprise. I didn't say she had to figure it out! I told her what console she's in. It should have been obvious as soon as I said it! If she were an engineer, it would have been! Well, she's not engineering, she's communications. And sick. She should be abed, having fun, and I could-NO!
"Girl," he said hoarsely. Coffee! Break for coffee! "Let's go have a cup of-"
"That's it!" she declared, her legs straightening. "That's a Lesko Coupler! I kept thinking it was a Boris Connection or an Eisenhower ... but it's not. It's neither of those; it's a Lesko Coupler, which means I'm in the navigation console!" She scrambled out of the console and sat on her knees, her face inches from his.
Bright green eyes in a cream face. Pale freckles under the outer edges of the eyes. Delicate red lashes, long and sensuous, matching the red, arched brows. Everything about her is ... irresistible. Regulations be damned! I've got to-
"-Wind up on your bedside," she stated.
"Yes, " he agreed, ready to lean forward to taste her lips.
"I sure didn't want that!" she declared.
What? No, I suppose not, when she's got access to Bugalu. It wasn't my bed she was talking about. Then what did she say?
"I don't imagine you've noticed any difference, yet, Mr Smythe, but I've been studying. I really want to stay on the Fireball." She lowered her bright red face.
She wants to stay on the Fireball because Bugalu's here. That figures. I find a woman who ... and all she can think about is another man. I've got to get my mind back to engineering. He leaned back against the console and sighed, closed his eyes for just a moment. "We should get back to work."
"Of course," she agreed. "Now that I realize it's a Lesko Coupler, it's obvious I'm in the navigation console."
"Yes, navigation," he agreed, dragging himself back to his feet. He looked down, saw her cleavage in all its glory, and hastily looked away. His throat tight, he commented, "Lesko Couplers are engineering," MacGreg will have my head if he thinks I've had her study engineering! "Perhaps you'd best ... stick with your field." He turned away.
"But Communications is done," she protested. "And ... electricity is electricity."
"Yes. I just meant, you don't need to study engineering." I can't look at her. I can't stay here, or I'll make a fool of myself. Get back to work, Smitty. If you can't manage that, at least look like you have. Joints stiff, he started across the room.