Mission Accomplished / Morning Light

Mission Accomplished

Shore Leave, Day 2

Smitty

2359 Hours

     Smitty was awakened when his bedroom door opened, letting in light from the corridor. "What is it?" he asked. He saw a woman's red uniform in the doorway. "Is there an emergency?" She had red hair, too. "Oh, it's you." She walked over, stood beside his bed. "What do you want?"

     "R&R." The door closed, throwing the room into near darkness.

     "You had shore leave, like the rest of us," he pointed out. Her knee rubbed against his knuckles where they rested on the edge of his bed; he could feel the smoothness of her uniform tights.

     "I wanted R&R on shore leave," she returned. "You refused."

     "You're a subordinate." He heard the metallic sound of a uniform being unfastened. "I don't fraternize." The uniform fell to the floor with a soft ripple. She sat on his bed. Somehow, he scooted away until his back was against the bulkhead. "What are you doing?"

     "Looking for R&R." She leaned forward.

     "I told you--" he started, reaching out to make his point. But his hand landed on her breast, his penis snapped to attention, and sweat broke out all over his body. "I can't," he breathed, but his resolve was breaking.

     "Then you're the only superior I've ever had who couldn't," she told him. Her lips touched his mouth briefly. "Come on, Boss."

     He couldn't stop himself. He rolled atop her with an urgent need to be inside her. "Oh, space," he swore, and kissed her hungrily, moaned as his manhood slid into her. Having finally given in to her charms, he desperately worked to reach that inevitable climax. Fingers dug into him as her body stiffened in sudden orgasm, bringing him to his own culmination. "Colleen!" he breathed in ecstatic relief.

     "I knew you could do it, Bart." He opened his eyes, saw faint glints reflected off blond hair. His penis deflated at once. "You just needed the proper... inspiration."

     He was confused. What's she mean? Where's Colleen? I made love to Colleen, not this... blond. "Colleen!" he breathed in ecstatic relief. Oh, no. No, I didn't say it out loud! Did I? Surely not, or she wouldn't be so calm, would she? "I just needed to sleep off some of my drunk," he stated.

     "Yes," she agreed oddly. "I'm sure that's it."

     I might have said it. I was asleep, I was-- She's a nurse. Surely she knows how to be discrete?

Morning Light

Month 1, Day 8

Short Leave Day 3

Smitty

0742 Hours

     "I return to the ship this morning," Monroe told Smitty as he emerged from the bathroom. "I hoped you'd walk me to the transport bay."

     I don't want to. I just want her gone. "Of course." He smiled.

     As they emerged from his room, they heard MacGreg say, "I don't know if I'll ever get this direction again. But if I do, I'll look you up."

     Smitty stiffened at sight of the doctor and a redhead near the elevator. Why say that? She'll be on the ship with him, with... us. There's no need to come back. He couldn't take his eyes from the redhead as they approached, what he could see from behind. Her hair's different... Did she get it cut? Almost carrotty. Her waist seems too thick, her butt not as taut. She's taller than she should be. What--?

     MacGreg kissed the redhead until the elevator opened. "Hold the lift!" Monroe called.

     MacGreg looked around. "Morning, Monroe. Smitty."

     "Good morning, Doctor," Monroe greeted warmly.

     Smitty reluctantly stepped onto the elevator with the others, realized the redhead had brown eyes and too many freckles. Suddenly, he could breathe again, even as MacGreg slipped his arms around the woman and gave her a deep kiss. Can't blame him! If I found a companion that looked that much like-- No, I wouldn't dare.

     The elevator opened at the lobby. "Good bye, Bridget," MacGreg told the woman. "It was great."

     "The resemblance is spooky," Monroe muttered.

     MacGreg headed for the front desk, where a frazzled clerk was saying, "I'm sorry. Dr MacGregor is busy this morning. You'll have to leave a message."

     "He can't be busy! He has to return to the ship. I said I'd walk him there."

     "I am sorry, Miss MacGregor--"

     "MacDowell," she corrected.

     "Yesterday, you claimed to be his niece."

     "Which is none of your business," MacGreg told the clerk, and handed over his bank card. "Process my bill so I can go; I'm due back on the ship." As the clerk moved away, MacGreg faced this redhead. "Mac, you don't seem as drunk this morning as you did yesterday."

     "Not yet," she answered with a grin.

     "So you've been more careful with your drinking?"

     Smitty saw her gaze flick toward him where he stood a few feet behind MacGregor, but she seemed to be answering his question. "I've been a good girl. I had supper, I stayed out of the brig, I didn't do anything Pa wouldn't approve of. Well, except I didn't have an escort."

     Monroe tugged at Smitty's sleeve. "I need to go. I don't want to be late."

     "MacGreg's headed the same way," he pointed out. "We can walk with him. You won't be late if he's not late."

     "Still wearing yesterday's clothes," MacGreg observed. "It's a nice outfit, but if you wear it on ship, I suggest you pair it with a different shirt. The one you wore yesterday is--"

     "Ruined." Colleen grimaced and opened her green jacket to show him - not nakedness, although for a dizzy second, I thought - dark speckles on the front of her cream-colored top. "Buttered popcorn and whiskey make an... unstable combination."

     "Did you get sick?" MacGreg asked.

     "Just clumsy," she replied.

     "What were you doing that-"

     "Watching a movie."

     MacGreg accepted his bank card back, turned with the redhead for the hotel entrance. Smitty and Monroe fell in behind them. "What did you see?" MacGreg wondered.

     "I forget the title. One of those Pygmalion-themed movies. It was old by the fourth viewing, but it kept me out of trouble."

     "Why didn't you switch to another movie?"

     "Without an escort?"

     "Oh." MacGreg thought about that a moment. "How do you put up with that?"

     What are they talking about?

     "Do I have a choice?"

     "Hmm. Let me think about that," MacGreg told her. Colleen took hold of his arm and drank from a bottle as she walked.

     "Looks like an alcoholic," Monroe muttered.

     That's a harsh assessment. I've drink heavily myself, at times. That's how this nurse landed in my bed last night.

     "What do you have planned for the day?" MacGreg asked the redhead.

     "Drop you off at the transport bay, wait for Bugsy, get a new outfit, and then... a traditional day of celebration!"

     "Meaning what, exactly?" MacGreg asked.

     "I... don't think you want to know," Colleen answered.

     "Makes me think even more that I do."

     Jealous, MacGreg? I imagine so. But you had her to yourself all day yesterday.

     "Maybe I'd better have a talk with Bugalu before he comes down," MacGreg drawled.

     "You can if you want. It won't change anything." Colleen guided the doctor through an open doorway. "Here we are. With a couple minutes to spare."

     "Good, Captain hates it when I'm late." MacGreg swallowed when the customer at the service counter turned to face them. "Morning, Captain."

     "Officers need to set a good example," Captain Burke stated. "Therefore, I don't like it when any of my officers are late." She glanced at Colleen, who was taking another drink, at Monroe, who was clinging to his arm, and then at him. "Smitty, you aren't cutting your leave short, are you?"

     "No, captain. Just escorting-" Did I have to use that word? "-those who've reached the end of theirs."

     "Good. See you tomorrow. Duck, I believe they have pods waiting for us."

     Smitty was relieved when the blond let go, then alarmed as she kissed him. Afterwards, she loudly said, "I'll see you tomorrow, honey!"

     "Yes, fine, whatever," he muttered, and turned away. He stopped when he saw Colleen standing near one of the large windows. But she wasn't looking out; she was watching him. Me... and the nurse.

     Sighing, the redhead turned to the window, raised a bandaged hand to touch the glass where she saw the Fireball. He walked closer. "What happened to your hand?"

     She didn't look at him, but regarded her hand thoughtfully. "Bruised it."

     "Since when does a bruise get bandaged?"

     Her cheeks went pink. "It's a bad bruise." She looked at her hand again. "That reminds me." Placing her bottle on the floor, she fumbled with the bandage controls.

     "That's a thermal bandage," he stated.

     "Yes," she agreed, still fumbling.

     "Let me." He took her injured hand to work the controls. "What do you need it set for?"

     "Hot," she stated softly.

     I'm hot, with her so close. None of that, Smit! Keep your mind on your work. "How hot?"

     "Hm, warm, for twenty minutes an hour," she recited. "Unless it starts swelling."

     "Swelling!" He modified the settings, and reluctantly let her hand go. "That must be bad, if it might swell."

     "Yes." She seemed unable to think of anything else to say.

     "Is it going to hamper your... work?" he asked.

     "I don't think so. Communications controls aren't as small as the ones on this bandage. Plus, they aren't on the back of my hand."

     "Right," he agreed, and picked up her bottle. When he straightened, Colleen was looking out the window once again.

     "It's beautiful," she breathed.

     She's beautiful. Stop it, Smitty. "Space?" he asked.

     "The Fireball," she responded.

     "Oh. Yes, she is," he agreed. As beautiful as Colleen.

     "I've worked hard to get to the Fireball," she commented.

     How hard did she have to work Nash to get that kind of transfer? Especially when his wife wanted her discharged?

     "I really want to stay." Colleen swallowed and faced him again. "I'll do anything to stay, Smit. Just tell me what it'll take."

     She can't mean what it sounds like. Why not? She just admitted how she got here. Why the Fireball? Because Bugalu is here. She must have a huge case of lust for the man. For him, not for me. "Pass your probation. Do your job." Space, I need a drink. A lot of drinks.

     She stared at him for a long time. "So little. And so much," she stated softly, then walked over to the service counter. "I'd like to leave a message for Lt Bugalu, who should be arriving from the Fireball shortly."

     Smitty watched as she left the message and walked out. Her tight, rounded butt swayed, her bright curls bounced with each step. She'll be on midnights. Out of sight. But there's no way she'll be out of my mind. He drank what remained in the bottle.