The Answer

Month 16 Day 12

11:57 Hours

Drake MacGregor

Drake hurried into engineering, and saw several officers leave the office, including Smitty's counterpart, Facchini. He barely reached them before they disbursed. "Where's Smitty and Mac?" he asked.

"In the office," Facchini answered. "But they want to be alone."

"They'll want to hear this," he responded, and opened the door. He caught the couple in mid-hug, and they instantly sprang apart. "I've got the answer!" he announced.

Smitty frowned at the interruption. "Can't this wait, Drake?"

"This is the answer you 2 have been pestering me about for a week."

"What answer?" Mac asked.

"The answer to—" It dawned on him that this was medical information, so he stepped inside and closed the door. "How you became pregnant."

"You know why our shots failed?" Smitty asked, turning to face him. His hand sought out Mac's.

"I had to go back to the original raw data, where people reported their side effects. It was hiding among headaches, chills and other such—"

"Spit it out, Drake!" Smitty snapped.

"Alcohol poisoning!"

The pair stared at him for half a beat, then Mac shook her head. "I've never had that."

"Yes, you have," Drake told her. "At least once since you came aboard the Fireball. You both have. I mean, since Mac came aboard."

"I think I would know," she protested.

"You felt extremely drunk," he told her. "And I de-toxed you before it became a problem. Again, both of you. But for a brief moment before the detox started to work, I considered slapping you into sick bay. Luckily, I gave you enough detox to avoid sick bay. But you drink so much, I'm surprised you haven't wound up in somebody's sick bay with alcohol poisoning."

Again, Mac shook her head. "I don't drink that much."

Smitty had been studying the floor thoughtfully. "Shore leave." He glanced at her. "Specifically, on Ulsess, where you suddenly decided to have a drinking contest."

No, that's not when—

She stiffened. "Men wanted to buy me a drink."

"Tell them no," he offered. "I've told you that.

She sighed. "It doesn't stop them. And I know why they offer, but I can out-drink them, so I do. It seems more civilized than beating them up, but sometimes I resort to that. Not in a long time, though."

"How can you possibly know you can out-drink them?" Smitty sounded miffed. "A lot of those who accepted your challenge were heavy drinkers. It's entirely possible one or more of them could have out-drunk you!"

Mac dismissed the idea. "Not likely. I've been drinking whiskey since I was 5. By the time I left Gaelund, I was as good at holding whiskey as my brothers. And they were known for it."

"That was Gaelund," Smitty answered, still irritable. "Out in the whole wide universe, there's no telling who might be able to hold their liquor better than you can!"

Mac got very still for a moment, and her hand removed itself from his grasp. "You think I'm lying?"

"No, I never said—"

"I out-drank all the men who agreed to that drinking contest! Every one of them!"

"Except me!" Smitty shot back.

Mac's face turned red. "It was a draw! So even you couldn't collect your 'winnings' when it was over!"

Wait a minute, haven't they figured out that—

"I might have, if you hadn't ducked out with Bugalu for a cuddle on the street corner!"

Her hands clenched, Mac retorted, "What you thought was a 'cuddle' was a crying jag, because... because..."

"Because you couldn't face that you might have been out-drunk?" Smitty demanded.

"No, because you didn't want me enough to manage to out-drink me!" she shot back.

After a moment of sudden silence, Smitty managed to ask, "What?"

Time to break in. Drake stepped forward. "Neither one of you were near alcohol poisoning when you... dropped out of the competition."

They turned to look at him, their anger turning to confusion. "What?" they both asked, more or less at the same time.

"To be honest, neither one of you actually passed out during that competition, either," Drake answered.

Smitty turned to her. "You faked passing out?"

"Well, I had to. Everybody else had lost. You were the only one left. I didn't know how much more you could handle, and—" Her face went pink and her voice lowered as the stronger emotions left her. "I wanted you to win. Though I'd never figured out how the winner is supposed to 'claim his prize'."

"You're right, I was the only one left who could win," Smitty agreed. "And then you passed out, or seemed to. And in that moment, I knew I didn't want to 'claim' you as a prize! I wanted you to be with me willingly. That was the way I wanted it, so I... I faked passing out, too. So I couldn't claim you; it was a draw."

Mac's hand claimed Smitty's again, and she stared at him with big green eyes. "You wanted me?"

"More than I've ever wanted anything," he stated softly. They moved closer, about to kiss, but Smitty suddenly took a step back and turned to Drake. "Wait a minute. If not during that contest, then when?"

"Oh, after Mac's first week, when you 2 returned to the Fireball after a short shore leave on Station B29. You 2 both arrived barely upright; you probably had more alcohol in your system than blood. I had a difficult time getting you detoxed enough to be fairly functional. Especially you, Smitty, since you were reporting straight to duty."

Mac's face drained of color. "As far back as that?"

"I don't even remember getting back to the Fireball," Smitty muttered. "I remember drinking heavily, and then you were giving me multiple shots and sending me off for duty."

The doorbell rang, and they all glanced at the clock on the wall. Mac muttered several words and turned to Smitty sadly. "Our time is up. Again."

"You'd better go," the engineer said and gave her a peck on the forehead.

She turned for the door. "Thank you, MacG, for letting us know." She opened the door and stepped outside.

Drake turned to leave, but Smitty stopped him with a hand on his arm, his face as white as Mac's had been. "Thanks, Drake," he whispered. "It's a good thing we're the only people whose shots failed. "

That we know of, Drake thought, then followed Mac out of the office.

"What were you lovebirds fighting about?" Facchini asked Mac.

"Oh, just about a stupid drinking game on our last shore leave," she answered. "Are you headed for lunch, Ben?"

"No, I want to talk to Smitty. It's about time to wrap up this rescue and send you guys back to the Fireball. Although I'll be sad to see you go."

"I'll go to the messhall with you, Mac," Drake volunteered, stepping up beside her as she walked for the exit. As they left engineering, Smitty's last comment to him made sense; Smitty may have been yearning for Mac, but he's had sex with others.