Regrets / Other Regrets

Regrets

Month 9 Day 11

Shore Leave Day 12

2229 Hours

Drake MacGregor

Drake gestured for a taxi, which obediently stopped at the curb. A silent Smitty climbed in, then reluctantly made room for him as he followed. “The Rosewood Inn,” Drake instructed, then gave his fellow officer a long look as he tried to figure out the other man’s actions tonight. “I get the feeling tonight’s contest didn’t finish the way you expected it to.”

Smitty gave him a quick glower then turned to stare out the vehicle’s side window. “I didn’t have any expectations. I mean, if I expected anything at all, it was that it would end in a big fight.”

“Yes, that would be an unsurprising ending to the evening,” Drake agreed. “But Tall Bear had agreed to protect her. And even if he hadn’t, she’s a heavy-worlder. I’m pretty sure she could have held her own. Probably even against all those men, including Winthrop.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” the engineer growled.

“You’re right,” Drake agreed. “In a perfect universe, she wouldn’t.”

“Anyway, she was drinking, which could have eliminated her heavy-worlder advantage.”

“Maybe, but you were drinking, too. If things had come to a brawl, you would have been in a much better position if you were sober.” The engineer grunted but didn’t reply. Drake pushed onward. “You know, I’ve heard this isn’t the first time you’ve stepped in when Winthrop was on hand. I think you like being the knight in shining armor.”

“And I think you’re a few centuries out of your time period, Drake. I’m just an officer, and I want to keep my people safe.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Drake agreed softly with a touch of sarcasm.

Far head, they could see a couple walking along the side of the road, approaching the stark light of a street lamp. Glints from the red hair of the woman identified them. They stopped and Mac tipped her head back, apparently drained the contents of a bottle, and tossed that bottle into a disposal chute. As the taxi passed them, Bugalu moved forward and wrapped his arms around his adopted sister, pulled her into a tight embrace.

Smitty jerked his gaze away from the window to stare at the floor and gave a deep, heavy sigh. “Why does she keep teasing him so?” he muttered.

At least, that’s what Drake thought the other man said. Why would he care if he thought Mac was teasing someone? Unless... no, that’s too preposterous an idea to entertain. Or maybe I misheard the pronouns, and he thinks Bugalu keeps teasing Mac? When Mac showed up, scuttlebutt around the ship seemed to be that Bugalu and Wilson might soon tie the knot. Now they hardly talk to each other. And the new rumors... Oh, they’re nonsense, of course. In any case, Smitty doesn’t listen to gossip. Doesn’t seem to be in the mood to talk tonight, either, so I’m glad the hotel isn’t much further. And I still don’t know what possessed him to join the game tonight. Nor why he chose not to win.

Other Regrets

Month 9 Day 11

Shore Leave Day 12

2235 Hours

Bugalu

After Mac finished her body, she cried so long, the entire front of Bugalu’s shirt was wet. When her sobs finally slowed and her grip on him loosened, he softly asked, “Didn’t go the way you wanted, huh?”

She took in a sharp breath and tried hard to wipe the wetness from her face. “What are you talking about? Of course it did.”

“I think you were surprised when Smythe joined the contest.”

She hung her head, abruptly turned to continue their walk toward the hotel, and he placed a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Stunned,” she corrected.

“I’m pretty sure he knows what you had to deal with in your previous assignments. And knowing him - as much as I do - I was astounded when he decided to join.” It just isn’t what I’d expect from him.

“He knew the rules.”

“Not when he decided to join the game. You hadn’t gone through all the rules at the time.”

“Doesn’t matter, because he has the same rule. He practically quotes regs at me whenever he turns me down.”

Bugalu stopped short. His mind whirled with lots of questions, questions like ‘why would you ask him such a question?’ and ‘how did you manage to ask such a question?’, but the only one of his questions he could get out was, “When did he turn you down?”

It had taken her another step or two to halt, and now she turned to face him, but glanced around them at the nearly deserted street. “I’d prefer not to talk about it. I’m not sure I can talk about it. But if you insist on it, I’d rather do it at the hotel.”

We are going to talk about it. But doing it in our room instead of out here on the street is probably a good idea. Especially since the door to the hotel is only a few feet away. And I need to change my shirt. “Okay, we’ll talk at the hotel.”

“Good.” She was unexpectedly agreeable, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I hope it doesn’t take an entire case of whiskey for me to get it out. I’ve been dreading this talk for a long time.”

I think it’s going to be a long night. But whatever she needs, I’m here for her. I always will be.