First Try (Part 2)

Month 10 Day 26

0035 Hours

Smythe

Previously:

“Something needs to be done,” he agreed. But what? Lost in his thoughts, it took him a while to remember to dismiss Firoz. “And send her in,” he added.

Without looking, he knew when she entered the room. The temperature rose several degrees, and his clothes became... confining.

“Have a seat.” He pointed to the chair across from him; it would be best to have the table between them. She sat down without a word and he finally looked at her. She was studying him, a look of confusion on her face. For a time he could only stare at her, as he imagined himself arriving in the nick of time to rescue her-- Black Space, don’t think such things!

He pulled himself together. “I understand your position on the night shift has placed you under considerable strain.”

The confusion changed to surprise. “You do?” she asked.

She’s a mesmerizing vixen; it’s all I can do to keep my mind on the problem at hand. Finally, he gave an unnecessary little cough to pull his gaze away from her. “I want you--“ he started, and she scooted forward on her chair. “I think you should file charges against Lts Evans and Adams.”

She sat back, looking shocked. Then she giggled. A chuckle followed, and she was soon laughing uncontrollably. Hysterical? “I knew you were different the moment I saw you,” she finally stated, regaining some control.

“Different?”

“Past supervisors have tried to convince me not to file charges,” she stated, wiping her eyes. She calmed down and regarded him sadly. “But they were the ones I was filing against, not co-workers.”

“The situation is different here,” he said.

“It is.” She agreed. “Totally different.”

“Based on what I heard this evening, the charges you could file—”

“I can’t file charges.”

He regarded her for some time. “Why not?” he asked. She’ll probably say the same thing Firoz said.

She sighed. “It’s my record. On my previous assignments, long before now, I started filing charges. The more I filed, the worse it got. As if my filing proved they were making progress. Here, people say if I ignore it, it’ll stop eventually. My way doesn’t work, so I’m left trying that.” She exhaled deeply. “I wish I knew how long it’ll take.”

“It won’t work,” he told her bluntly. “Not with those two. I’ll have to lean on them long and hard before they’ll stop.”

She was shaking her head in apprehension and dismay. “No, not you!” she insisted desperately.

“I’m the logical person for you to go to, your supervisor. As well as Adams’ supervisor. I’ll have to involve Nichols, as Evans’ supervisor.”

“No,” she insisted. “Not you. Not Nichols, not the captain. I can’t file charges!”

“You can and you will!” he declared.

“I won’t!” she shot back, rising to her feet.

“Why in space not?” he demanded, also jumping up.

“Because I couldn’t stand listening to the intimate details of our affair!” she blurted. She turned white, and fell back into her chair, hiding her face with her hands.

Breathless from shock, he muttered, “We aren’t having an affair.”

“Of course not,” she stated. Her voice was muffled, but she sounded sad and... disappointed? “That won’t stop them.”

He slowly sat, his muddled mind churning sluggishly. “Stop them from what?”

“From... from telling everybody all the details!”

“There aren’t any details!” But there could be if--

“That won’t stop them!” she cried, uncovering her face. 2 tears left tracks down her face. “They won’t care that they’re lies! They’ll put their sick imaginations to work, and it will be you and I who have to live with the results!”

Finally, he understood what she meant. They wouldn’t be lies if-- “As long as we know the truth, does it matter? Most people will realize what they’re doing.”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t really care what people say, as long as I don’t have to listen to it. But I do have to listen to it. I mean, I can’t abandon my post, and there’s no way to make them shut up.” She sighed, staring at her hands in her lap. “It’s been kind of humorous, sometimes, to listen to their stories of me with Mac and Bugsy. They’re so far off base. Kind of educational, too, in a weird sort of way. But--“ She swallowed. “I don’t think I could stand it if they started saying those things about you.”

She hates me. Can’t stand the thought being paired with me, even in gossip. Good thing I haven’t made a fool of myself over her in public. MacGreg and Bugalu. I already knew that. He forced himself to suggest, “Then go to Dr MacGregor to make your complaint. It will complicate matters a bit, but--“

“Certainly not!” she declared. “It wouldn’t be fair to do anything that might look like confirmation of their accusations!” She shrugged again. “It wouldn’t be fair to any of the ship’s officers. So, if you’re done with me?” She rose, expecting to be dismissed.

“Not yet!” Smitty stood up, thrust out one arm so that his gold braid glittered against the red fabric. “We don’t get this kind of rank by being thin-skinned! Nor by being reluctant to do whatever needs done! So don’t think you need to protect any of us from the likes of Evans and Adams!”

A warm shiver went up his spine as he realized she was fondling his sleeve. Suddenly, she pulled her hand back and blushed. “I know it’s hard to believe anything good about me, Smit, but I accept punishment for my transgressions.” She stepped away from the table, muttered, “I should get back to work,” and started for the door.

He caught her by the arm before she got far, and pulled her back to face him. “But you haven’t done anything to be punished for!”

“No?” she asked breathlessly as her eyes studied his face guardedly. “Is that what you really think?”

“I think--: he began, but lost his train of thought. Her eyes are so green! “I think--“ he tried again. Someone pressed against him to kiss him. He smelled whiskey and lilacs. “MacDowell,” he groaned, but it was too late; already his hands were holding her close. He should send her away, but he couldn’t. He could feel his growing shaft confined between them, and his hands slid down to her buttocks. He could hardly feel her through the stiff stuff she wore. The paper tore; he could feel soft warmth through the rips.

But the paper wasn’t tearing. In fact, it didn’t feel like paper. He realized only parts of the scene were real; she was pressed against him, held tightly in pace by his hands on her derriere, and he was definitely responding. But the room was a briefing room, not his bedroom, the lights were on, and she wore a uniform. She was motionless, apparently speechless as she stared at him with a mixture of emotion on her face. Anticipation? Horror? Panic? Her fists rested on his arms, trembling.

Have I already kissed her, like in the dream? Or only getting ready to? Either way, my behavior has been unforgivable. He abruptly let go of her and stepped away, trying to put distance between them.

“Oh, dear.” Her whisper sounded confused and sexy, both at the same time.

I have to send her away. But the very reasons that made that imperative meant he didn’t know if he could. The soft firmness of her under me in my bed... No, that was a dream. But she’s here now, and would indubitable feel just fine on the table-- He jumped as her trembling fingers plucked at his sleeve.

“You’re on duty; get back to it.” It came out much sharper than he’d intended, he was so utterly tense.

He expected her to say, ‘If that’s all you want,’ and hoped he had the strength to keep his mouth shut and his hands off her, to let her go. But she made no attempt to take advantage of his obvious condition. “Yes, sir,” she responded quietly, and he heard the door sigh as she left.

With a gasp, he threw himself into a chair to regain control of himself.