Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Incomplete Apology

Incomplete Apology
Day 7 (Shore Leave Day 2)
0812 Hours

Smitty stared at the hotel clerk coldly. "What?"
"I asked if you were Dr MacGregor's brother," the man returned. "The doctor appears to be having a... family reunion this morning."
What in space does that mean? "No," the engineer stated firmly. "We're fellow officers aboard the Fireball. I have my own reservation here, if you care to check." Maybe I should cancel it, go someplace else, if the staff is this nosey. "Now, would you please tell me what room MacGregor is in?"
The clerk tried to hide his frown as he consulted his computer screen. "Three seventeen."
"Thank you." Smitty turned and looked for the elevator, and his doubts nearly kept him from seeing it. Maybe I should wait. I've only come to apologize for being rude, that last night before leave. I don't have to do it this minute. He realized his feet had paid no attention to his doubts when the elevator closed its door behind him and started off. Well, I suppose it's best to get it done as soon as possible. Not let it fester. We're not really close friends, but Fleet life kind of requires you keep any friends you can manage to make. If you don't want to be lonely.
The elevator opened and he got off, took a moment to remember the room number the clerk had given him, and started looking for the correct door. A quick apology and I'll feel a lot better. Maybe I'll take him to breakfast. Maybe he's scoped out the companion agencies and can steer me in the right direction. At least I got some sleep last night, without any ... ah ...distractions. Here it is. He knocked on the door, waited impatiently for a while, and knocked again.
When the door of room 317 finally opened, MacGreg looked disheveled and wet, clutching his untied bathrobe closed. He seemed surprised to see him. "Smitty!"
Smitty hadn't known what to expect, after the clerk's strange behavior, but- Not too busy to open the door, then. He grinned. "MacGreg, I've come--" His voice failed as his gaze wandered to the bed. There's no mistaking those red curls, even if her face is turned away. It's her. Of course she's here. What was I thinking? Who could blame him? Every man who sees her wants her. The bedding only emphasizes her curves, like that vest she wore yesterday barely covered her delectable breasts.
That's the one I want," MacGreg stated. "That's going to balance my hormones just fine." But that had been a dream, nothing more than a terrible, terrible dream. Hadn't it?
The doctor turned his head back from a chagrinned glance at the bed. "It's not what it looks like," MacGreg stated.
Smitty somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the vision to look squarely at the doctor. "It's none of my business," he croaked, then forced himself to turn away and leave. Space, I need a woman!

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