Mac's Not Herself

Month 15 Day 5

0732 Hours

Bugalu

Bugsy reached out and touched Della's arm as she walked past his breakfast table. "Where's Mac this morning?"

"She should be along any minute, I would think," Della answered. "She had a letter this morning, and took the time to read it, but as pale as she got, I don't think it was good news. I mean, she was already pale when she got up, so her session with the healing ray last night must have really been the pits. So take it easy on her, Bugsy, cause she's not having a good day." She looked around the mess hall and added, "Yeah, there she is, getting her breakfast. See ya." She moved on, and Bugalu had no chance to protest that he simply wanted to converse with his adopted sister, not chew her out.

But the fact that Della expected him to chew Mac out made him wonder if there was something she'd done he wasn't aware of. It seemed to him that she'd settled into a fairly normal human being, compared to how she was at the Academy. Maybe, if she was having a difficult day already, and it had hardly even started, he should point out the progress she'd made.

Mac slipped into one of the empty chairs at his table. She had a stack of toast, a bowl of oatmeal and a hot tea on her tray. All her comfort breakfast foods. And she does look pale, although she's tried to hide it with a touch of blusher. Unfortunately, it makes the paleness of the rest of her face that much more noticeable.

She hadn't even greeted him when she sat down, hardly seemed aware of him as she stirred sugar into her oatmeal with her left hand, her eyes downcast.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Yeah," was her mumbled response.

"Della said you got a letter this morning."

"Um, yeah."

She's awfully quiet this morning. If the letter was bad news from home, she'd probably be telling me about it. "She seemed to think it might be bad news."

"Depends."

He took a bite of his corned beef hash before he tried again. "Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, dunked her toast in her tea and bit off the soggy bit. "Still trying to wrap my head around it." And she was still mumbling, as if she were afraid someone might overhear her.

Bugs leaned forward and lowered his voice to match hers. "What are you trying to wrap your head around?"

She glanced up at him, panic in her eyes, and then furtively looked around, trying to catch eaves-droppers in the act. Finally, she leaned closer to him and whispered, "Kolla's pregnant!"

He blinked. That's usually good news. She never has any difficulty making that announcement about one of her sisters-in-law. But I think she identifies more strongly with Kolla than her sisters-in-law, so maybe it's more... personal to hear it about Kolla. He took a drink of his orange juice and pointed out, "She is married."

"Yes, she is," she agreed, and he thought he heard a slight emphasis on 'she'.

He sat back in his seat, his breakfast momentarily forgotten as his mind whirled with thoughts about how badly unmarried mothers were treated on Gaelund. But Kolla wasn't from Gaelund, and she was married, so it didn't apply to her. "What's this about, Mac?"

She took another bite of soggy toast, stirred her oatmeal and finally sat up straighter, less like somebody caught doing something illegal. "Not much, really. I'm just upset because I had a killer session with the healing ray last night, and here I am, still in my sling, not showing any indication that I've made any progress with the shoulder at all."

He studied her for a long moment, noticed that her gaze veered toward the captain's table, and then jerked back to him. "You're getting better at lying," he decided, and took a sip of his juice. "It's okay if you're not ready to talk to me. Just remember that when you are ready, I'm here for you."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let it out. "Thank you, Bugalu."

She called me by my actual name. She really is upset. "What about a movie tonight? It's been a while since we've done that."

She shoved a large spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth, probably to give her time to think before she answered. "Gee, I don't know. I don't want someone to make a scene like he did the last time."

"You're not engaged anymore," he pointed out. "You don't have to do anything just to please him."

"True," she agreed, and sipped her tea. "Let's decide on the movie later, okay? I'm so blasted tired of this sling, I may not be fit company to be with anyone tonight."

"Sure, just let me know. I might not be able to order a pizza, if you wait too long."

"Oh. Pizza." She took another sip of her tea. She hadn't sounded enthusiastic about the prospect of their routine ending to a movie night. What can possibly have her that upset? "Well, if we do see the movie, and you can't get a pizza ordered, we could maybe have something else, instead."

"Sure," he agreed. "It doesn't have to be pizza." It is always pizza! Ham and pineapple pizza. She's never even considered having something else!

"Oh, Beth!" she greeted the Head Nurse as she walked past, and having gotten Temple's attention, she invited her to join them.

Beth hurriedly took a seat. "Thanks. You don't mind if I eat in a hurry, do you? I've got to get maintenance to look at my alarm. I am never late to work, not like some people I could name."

"I'm not late getting to work," Mac protested feebly.

"I wasn't talking of you," Beth told her as she cut into her egg and potato casserole. "But we have figured out what happened to your after-drink the first time you were under the healing ray. And the lack of an escort to see you got home okay can be laid on the same head."

"That's nice," Mac told her without interest. "Listen, I've been meaning to get together with you, have a little girl-to-girl time, just the two of us."

"Me?" Beth asked, and glanced at Bugs, who gave a slight shrug. He had no idea what was on Mac's mind. Beth drank some of her coffee. "Sure. We could do that, sometime."

"How about tonight?" Mac asked eagerly, startling Bugalu. "I'm still recovering, and most of my usual methods of entertainment aren't available to me. Please say yes. It would give me something to do."

Beth chewed and nodded her head, glanced at the wall clock. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

"Talk. Privately. Your place? About 1930?"

Still nodding, Beth shoved another bite into her mouth and chewed hurriedly. "Okay. My place. See you then."

"Thank you, Beth. I won't be late." Mac glanced at the clock herself, and hastily shoved another spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth. "Hurry up, Bugs, or you'll be late."

So it was that the 3 of them wolfed down a few more bites, gulped down their drinks and went their separate ways. Once Bugs got on the lift with others headed for the bridge, he wondered about Mac's strange behavior. Obviously, she's upset about something, but since when does she pass up a movie night for a girls' night in? And especially why would she practically beg for that girls' night?

New Info

 Month 15 Day 1

0757 Hours

Smitty

Feeling embarrassed, dejected and exhausted, Smitty sat slumped in his office chair, his head drooping but held up by his hands, which were propped up by his elbows on the desktop. Several screens were on, showing him the engineering floor, but he paid no attention to them. Why couldn't Drake just detox me and let me muddle my way through the day? Why did he have to get the captain involved? Space, it's going to be a long day. I already feel as if I was the one under the healing ray, now dying to get some sleep. Captain's wrong. I haven't pulled any 3 day stints in... years. Probably can't do it anymore, the way I feel now. I don't know—

"Hey, Mac, you're looking more confident this morning," came thinly over the speaker, and Smitty abruptly raised his head, sought out the redhead on the screens. She was talking to Wilson, just inside the main entrance.

"...hasn't given out all morning, so far. So I'm torn between asking for some healing ray for my shoulder and remembering what it was like when they released me yesterday."

Smitty was up and headed to the engineering floor almost before he realized he had moved. Somehow, he managed not to run, although he wanted to. All those safety lessons he'd been taught years ago, he supposed.

"...disappointing results last night," Wilson was saying as Smitty approached them. "Pretty much the same as we got the week before, despite our best efforts. Could have used your thoughts on what happened."

"You were sorely missed last night," he added, inserting himself into the conversation.

Colleen turned to face him. "Reporting for duty, sir. I hope you understand that I still can't salute."

It wasn't what he wanted to talk about, but at least she was talking to him. "Yes, yes, the healing ray was on your thigh yesterday, not your shoulder. But it's done your leg some good, has it?"

She blinked in surprise at his enthusiastic conversational tone, and glanced around engineering to see how many people were watching. Smitty had an urge to snap at everybody to get back to work, but couldn't pull his eyes off Colleen. "Yes," she answered shortly, then added, "It hasn't buckled yet today."

That seemed to be it for that conversation, so he reverted to what Wilson had been talking about. "Good. Well, you were missed last night, but I gathered all the data and observations and sent it to you by email, so you can ponder the results this week, just like the rest of us."

"You did?" Wilson blurted out. "I mean, we broke apart without specifying who was going to get the data to her, so I went ahead and did it myself. Also."

"Well, I can hardly fault you for that. As I expressed last night, I believed Colleen was probably sound asleep by the time we got together."

"Not quite that early," Colleen muttered.

Which reminded Smitty that she apparently was still awake—or possibly awake again—when he, Abdulla and Wilson had broke up their conclave, because he'd seen Bugalu coming from her quarters. Smitty realized he was gnashing his teeth, and forced himself to stop, but couldn't keep the ice from his voice when he said, "I heard Bugalu promise to come back in a little while. When he left your quarters last night."

Her green eyes rounded, then narrowed as they flashed with anger. Her voice was as cold as his had been, if not even colder. "I wouldn't know. I fell asleep as soon as I got home. Now, I should get started on my light duty responsibilities." She moved past him, headed for his office.

Wilson looked at him uncertainly. "Why would you even—Never mind." She launched into a litany of assignments she'd given her crew and which ones didn't get finished. Smitty found it hard to pay attention as he stared at the doorway to his office, but he relieved Wilson and let her go. "Who else would he have been talking to?" he asked the redhead, but she was too far away to hear him.

"He was talking to me," Harris answered from behind him.

Smitty turned around in surprise, embarrassed that someone had heard him, astounded that she had the gall to reply. "What?"

Harris tossed her head, almost defiantly. "Bugalu told me he'd be back shortly. Like Mac said, she fell asleep on the sofa as soon as Bugalu got her that far. We didn't think the 2 of us could get her transferred to her bed where she could sleep soundly. I mean, she is extra heavy. So he decided to find Tall Bear and have him move her. And as we expected, she slept through the entire thing."

"Is that so?"

"It is so," Harris affirmed. "I don't understand why you're so suspicious of Mac all the time. On a personal level. But especially now." Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to her work.

Oh, no. People have started to notice my behavior. It won't take them long to realize that if I can't trust my fiancée, then I'm a fool to marry her. And that'll get shortened to I'm just a blasted fool, you just watch.

Which put him in a foul mood again. But this time he had some anger at himself to make him determined to get through the day, as the captain had challenged him to do. Still, with his mind whirling with uncertainties and doubts, he was hardly an effective leader this day. It was a good thing his crew were so well trained; they hardly noticed his mental absence.

Sending a Message

 Month 14 Day 26

1739 Hours

Della Harris

 "Is it true?"

Startled, Della almost dropped the tray of food she was carrying. She'd already heard that question half a dozen times in the mess hall, but still... Half angry, she turned to face the helmsman as he came up behind her. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He stopped to face her, glanced at the tray of food she held. "Sorry, Della. Didn't mean to startle you. I just can't believe— Are the rumors true? Did Mac cancel the wedding?"

Della's mouth formed a thin line as she considered him. What does he care? He didn't want to marry her. Or has he changed his mind? Or are they really like brother and sister, and he's worried about her? Wish I could figure these 2 out. She gave up and sighed. "Yes, she did."

He let out a deep breath and shook his head in confused dismay. "Space," he muttered.

"You don't make any sense, Bugalu. You didn't want her to marry him, and now that she's not, you're not happy about that, either."

He grimaced. "The way I see it, the only thing that would be worse than her calling it off is if he had called it off."

This is a hopeless conversation. "I don't know if I agree with that. She may have been the one to call it off, but she is far from happy to have done it! To feel you have to call off a wedding when you don't want to is just... a tragedy, that's what it is!"

"That's got to be rough," he agreed. "She's got her door locked. Can you get me in?"

Della shook her head. "She's got her door locked because she doesn't want to see anybody. Let me emphasize that: She doesn't want to see anybody!"

"Anybody," he repeated. "You mean... not even—"

"Not even him!" Della insisted. "Or as she put it, especially not him!"

"Wow. That sounds like she's determined."

"Determined, yes," she agreed. "But she's still not happy!"

Bugalu took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay." He deposited a handful of flowers and foliage on the dinner tray. "Then take those to her." He turned away and then stopped. "Tell her they're from Smythe."

So now he's sending flowers to his 'sister'? What's up with that? And why have me say they're from Mr Smythe? He just is not making any sense. But Bugalu had walked off by then, and Della turned and made her way to the quarters she shared with Mac.

The door didn't open when she approached, and she rather testily identified herself. "Lt Della Harris." Once she was inside, she placed the tray atop her dresser, got a vase from her closet and some water from the bathroom.

She was still arranging the flowers when Mac woke up with a groan. "Oh! I am so stiff!"

Della tsked. "That's what you said at lunchtime."

"It's still true now," Mac answered, and looked at the flowers Della was arranging. "What's the occasion?"

Della tightened her mouth for a second. "I'm supposed to say these are from Smythe."

"Oh." The redhead didn't sound excited about it. She gave a deep sigh. "Send them back."

Della stared at her. "Send them back?" One doesn't send flowers back, especially onboard, where it's hard to get them in the first place.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Mac answered, and began inching her way into a slightly different position. "This isn't a little argument where he can send flowers and everything will be fine again." She winced. "Ow. What a day this has been."

"I can't send them back," Della blurted out.

Mac stopped trying to move and looked at her. "Why not?"

How dare Bugalu put me in such a ridiculous position as this! "Because Mr Smythe didn't really send them. Bugalu did and told me to say they were from Smythe."

"Why would Bugsy do such a thing?"

"Well, I certainly don't understand him! First he doesn't want you to marry Smythe, then he gets upset when he hears you've called off the wedding and sends you flowers that are supposed to be from Smythe, like he's trying to get you two back together or something!"

"I'll have to ask him what he's up to," Mac decided and raised her left arm, then let it fall to the mattress again. "That is about the extent that I can move. So I won't be asking Bugsy anything today. Maybe tomorrow."

The intercom sounded. "MacDowell? Are you in there? It's Dr Davis."

Mac started to raise her arm again, but Della pressed the button to open the intercom. "Yes, she is, Dr Davis, but she's not doing very well. Stiff and in pain, I think."

"That's why I'm here. To look in on her, change the bandages. Maybe a little physical therapy, if she's stiff."

"Okay," Mac answered. "Computer, open door." She looked at her roommate. "That answers that question. It's past shift change, if Dr Davis is on duty."

"Yes, and I brought you some supper. But tell me if you want something else. Chef Hamara heard you were under the weather, and sent chicken noodle soup. I'm not sure how you're supposed to eat that with your hands bandaged."

"Actually, it sounds good, but we'll see if I can manage it. And what the doctor says about it."

Dr Davis entered the bedroom from the living room. "Chicken noodle soup? Well, let's see those hands, see how they're doing. Maybe you can lift the bowl and drink the soup." She moved over beside the bed, gave a quick look at the vase of flowers. "Nice flowers."

"They're from Mr Smythe," Mac stated softly.

What? Why did she say that? I plainly told her it was Bugalu who sent them, that he told me to say Smythe had sent them. And she said she was going to ask him why!

"I see," Davis said, sitting on the side of Mac's bed. "Let me see your hands. And I think I neglected to mention that your shoulder will need some physical therapy for a few days."

"You told me not to move it."

"That's right. I don't want you to use it. Leave it to us medical types to move it, slowly and carefully."

Unexpected Arrival

Month 14 Day 26 (day of wedding)

0008 Hours

Della Harris

When the bedroom door opened, letting the corridor light shine directly in on her, Della sat up in bed. "Who's there?"

"Oh, good, you're home," Tall Bear said as he walked the length of the bedroom. He was carrying something big, but for a moment, Della couldn't figure out what it was. "Your roommate had an accident, and couldn't get home from sick bay on her own."

"Accident!" Della jumped out of bed just as Tall Bear placed the redhead on the edge of the bed on the other end of the room. Half of Mac's face was blue, headed for a darker shade, her hands were wrapped in bandages, and one arm was restrained. Her disheveled uniform had smears of blood, already turning brown as they dried out. "What happened?"

"I didn't ask," TB answered. "Unless she files a complaint, I don't want to know. Can you, uh, help her get ready for bed? I think she's more or less on bed rest for the next couple days."

"Of course I will! Oh, what rotten luck to have this happen right before your weekend, Mac. Oh! Your honeymoon!"

"Hmm, honeymoon," Mac repeated blandly. "Thank you, Tall Bear. I don't know how I would have gotten to sick bay or home without you."

"Well, I figure you've made me into a brother by now," TB told her.

Mac gave him a lop-sided smile. "That's not official. Yet."

"Well, I have to get to Security, make my report about this encounter and sign in. You're likely to get someone coming around tomorrow to ask you questions about what happened."

"I'll tell them the same thing I told Dr Davis."

"Well, that's good. I guess. Get some rest."

He left. Della requested the bedroom light to come on, and then removed Mac's boots. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Mac sighed. "A series of unlucky accidents." She watched as the 2nd boot hit the floor. "Now, help me get to my computer. No, your computer. Yours isn't busy with half a dozen programs running."

"What do you need a computer for?"

"I have a short program to run in the main computer, and a message to send before I go to bed. And my right leg isn't working well right now, so I need your help."

"Can't these things wait until the morning?"

"No. I expect things to fall apart in the morning. And I don't want to deal with it then."

I have no idea what she means by that. Is she even in her right mind, after taking a beating like she's been through? But Della helped her roomie limp to the living room and to the unoccupied computer. Typing with one finger, Mac was busy at the keyboard for at least 20 minutes. Della watched the screen, but got lost in the various files before 5 minutes were up. When Mac sat back in the chair and breathed a sigh of relief, Della finally voiced her confusion. "What did you do?"

"I don't want visitors this weekend. Like Bear said, I'm supposed to rest. So I placed a super lock on the doors. Only you and I are allowed to come and go, and I don't plan to go anywhere."

"What do you mean, a super lock?"

"If I did it right, even Mr Smythe can't use his superior rank to override the lock." She frowned at the keyboard. "I don't know if it will stop the captain, medical personnel, or security, but I can hope."

"Well, I guess I understand why you don't want visitors, but... even Smythe?"

"Especially Smythe," Mac said grimly as she rose to her feet. "The other thing I did was send a message to the captain, calling off the wedding. She'll get it in the morning. I assume she'll let him know."

Della moved forward to help her return to her bed. "Are you sure you don't want to send that message to him? Not that that's a good option, either. I suppose common courtesy says you should tell him face to face."

"I'm not feeling very courteous right now," she answered. "He made a wrong assumption about me, and didn't listen when I tried to tell him he was wrong. So, since he thinks he knows so much, let him figure it out himself."

"Is he... Did he do this to you?" I've seen Smythe's temper, but I've never seen him get physical with a woman.

"No," Mac answered shortly, and thankfully sat on her bed again. "He didn't do any of this. Well, we had sex, at long last, and apparently that's painful when it's the first time."

"Only for women," Della told her.

"That figures," Mac muttered, and considered her wrinkled and stained uniform. "Della, I hate to keep you up any longer, but I'd really like to change into pajamas."

"Of course," Della agreed. "Where are they? Do you want the striped or the lace?"

"Striped. Bottom drawer on the left."

It took some doing, to get the rumpled clothing off the redhead when she could hardly even stand on her own, and couldn't do much to facilitate her own release. Putting on fresh clothes proved easier, as by then, they had figured out how to work together. Plus the pajamas were a looser fit than her uniform, and slipped into place much easier. Della tossed the blanket out of the way, and helped Mac lay down.

"Thank you, Della," Mac said, and her voice was thin and wan. Tears started down her face.

"Are you in pain?" Della asked.

"Only... emotional."

"I'm sorry things didn't work out for you."

"Me too. Now you'd better get some sleep. It'll be time to go to work before you know it."

"How high do you want the blanket?" Della asked.

"Up to my chin. I know the temperature is constant, but the night seems to have gotten very cold, in my mind."

Della draped the blanket over her friend. "Try to sleep."

Mac gave a deep sigh. "I'll try." She closed her eyes, which squeezed more tears onto her cheeks. She told the computer to adjust the gravity on her bed.

Della went to her own bed and told the computer to turn off the lights. Wish I knew what Smythe did. I'd sure give him a piece of my mind about it! Ugh. I have to work with him tomorrow. I don't know which would be worse, having him unaware the wedding is off and him giddily waiting for it to happen, or having him know it's been called off, and him angry and depressed. Wish I could call in sick tomorrow.

Cold Feet

 Month 14 Day 24

1608 Hours

Della Harris

 When Della entered the quarters she shared with Mac, she grimaced at the realization that Mac was already home. I swear we leave Engineering at the exact same time, and she always beats me home, even if I manage to get on the first available lift. She eyed the form-fitting, short-sleeved shirt and oversized coveralls the redhead had put on. "Are you wearing that for tonight's date with Smythe?"

"Wearing what?" Mac turned from returning her red curls into a tight top-knot. It never seemed to stay tidy for a full shift. She glanced down at her attire. "Oh, no, we're not seeing each other tonight." She tried to pull her top-knot even tighter.

"You're not? This will be the first night you aren't since you got engaged."

"Umm. Yeah, I guess. Pretty much."

"You two haven't fought over something, have you?" They haven't even gotten married yet!

Mac gave her a funny look. "No. He's got his bachelor party to be at tonight."

Oh, right, he's got to get that slipped in somewhere. It's only a couple days until the wedding. "Speaking of parties, when are you having your bachelorette party? Will I be invited?"

Mac tossed her engineering uniform down the laundry chute and sat on her bed to put on a pair of socks and tie-down shoes. "I told Yellow Dog not to plan one for me. I can get drunk anytime, I don't need an impending marriage as an excuse. And none of the other activities she suggested held any interest for me. So, no there won't be a bachelorette party. But if there were, then yes, you would have been invited."

This just doesn't sound right. "Is something wrong, Mac? You don't seem to be getting into the joyously anticipatory mood that most brides experience. I heard you haven't even gone to Fabrication to order a wedding dress."

"I plan to wear my usual uniform," Mac answered.

That definitely is not right! "You're kidding!"

"Why would you think that?"

"Mac, you've barely invited anybody to the ceremony! You won't have a special dress to commemorate the day. You're not having a party! What are you doing?"

The redhead tied her 2nd shoe and looked up. "I'm getting married. All that other stuff you mentioned is nonsense, it isn't necessary. Or wanted, in our case. We both want a simple, small wedding ceremony." She skewed her mouth to one side for a moment. "Is that so awful?"

Della bounced down on her own bed. I've heard of people who want a tiny, simple ceremony and nothing else. I always thought they were nuts. "My family always has a big wedding, with 5 or 6 bridesmaids and a couple hundred guests. It's what I always expected for myself, if I ever get married."

"We have that kind on Gaelunde, too," Mac told her. "Fathers are usually very happy to get their daughters safely married off, so they put up with the expense and all the traditional nonsense. I expect my father would insist on a big wedding with all the trimmings, if he were here to give me away. Since he's not, and I don't care about any of that, I choose not to bother with it."

"And Mr Smythe is okay with that?"

"He encourages me to think small. After all, if we did invite a couple hundred people to witness the ceremony, that would require more than a full shift of people to be there. It would almost be 2 full shifts. Between that and those who were sleeping, there would hardly be anybody left to man the ship."

"I think you're exaggerating."

The redhead canted her head to one side for a second, and decided, "Not by much." She stood up.

"So, what are you planning to do tonight? Go to the gym and catch up on your weight lifting?"

Mac smiled patiently. "Weight lifting isn't something you can give up for a couple weeks and then do a double- or triple-dose in one evening. No, I got some information from Oaks the other day, and I plan to do some research."

Instead of having a party? "You're always working on some sort of research. What is it this time?"

"Oh, I haven't been keeping up with my various projects very well this past couple weeks. I hope things settle down after we get married so I can get back to them. But tonight's research... is personal." She headed for the door to leave.

"You can do it here," Della offered. "Just let me change for my date, and I'll get out of your way."

"That's okay. My computer is working on my regular projects. Besides, I'm not sure a personal computer has the power I'll need. Oaks is letting me use his office. And since I think that's who your date is with, I'd better go get situated so he can get ready for you. Have fun." Then she waved good-bye and was out the door, and Della was alone.

That girl is something else. She works as Smythe's protégé, has 3 or 4 career projects she's working on, spends all her off-duty time with Smythe planning their wedding, when she isn't sleeping. And now she's starting a personal project that requires a more powerful computer? I can't hope to keep up with that. I don't even want to keep up with that. Sometimes I regret ever letting Smythe see what I was capable of, because now he expects that much of me, all the time!

Wait, the real question is, when did she find the time to work out a deal with Oakhurst? Smythe's got her on a very short leash, these days.

Finding the Bride and Groom

 Month 14 Day 18

2314 Hours

Anna Hamara

 Harris came into the living room from the bedroom, now in her nightgown and robe. "I'm sorry, sir, I really don't know how late it might be before she gets home tonight. But it's usually—"

The living room door opened and Mac came in. Her hair was mussed, her uniform disheveled, and she seemed dazed. Anna stood up from the couch. "Mac, I need to speak to you."

The redhead blinked a couple of times, unconsciously twisted her uniform into something resembling its proper position. "Chef Hamara, what's the problem?"

"You haven't answered any of my messages asking what type of wedding cake you want."

"Messages?" Her face turned pink. "I don't seem to have any time for messages, any more. What were they about? A wedding cake?"

"It is traditional for there to be a wedding cake when there's a wedding ceremony. But before I can make it, I need to know what kind you want."

"Oh, I don't know. The traditional kind, I guess."

Anna ground her teeth in aggravation for a moment. Most brides aren't as feather-brained as this. "The tradition is for the cake to have tiers. There really isn't any tradition as to what type of cake or frosting is used."

"Oh." Now she seemed completely at a loss. "I guess I haven't given it much thought."

At least I have some idea what she might like, thanks to Bugalu. "Here's a suggestion. I can make a white cake with white frosting, and put a layer of pineapple puree atop each tier. How does that sound? I know how much you like pineapple."

The talk of pineapple finally seemed to soak through her dazedness, and her face lit up. "That sounds wonderful! And it will look beautiful, too! Oh, I can hardly wait! Getting married and having pineapple to celebrate! Thank you, Chef!"

"Good. I'm glad that's settled. Now, I'll leave and let you girls get some sleep." She walked out and made her way to the officers' quarters, where she buzzed the doorbell on a certain doorway. The door opened and she walked in far enough to let the door close.

Smitty appeared in the bedroom doorway, his uniform tunic missing, a glass of booze in his hand. "What are you doing here?"

Apparently, he hasn't had any time to check his messages, either. "I understand you're getting married next week."

"Ahh, yes. About that—"

He's defensive? With me? Thought we were better friends than that. "I just spoke to your bride, at long last, about what type of wedding cake she wants, and she settled for a white cake, white frosting, and a layer of pineapple atop each tier. I hope that's agreeable with you."

"What? Um, yes, that sounds fine. Whatever Colleen wants is fine."

"I assume you two have finished making all the rest of the arrangements, and that the selection of the cake was merely an oversight."

"Ah. Arrangements." He took a healthy gulp from his glass. "Well, the captain will perform the ceremony, of course."

He seems as feather-brained about this as she was. "It won't mean a thing if you don't have approval from Headquarters. Have you even submitted that request?"

"I..." His voice faded away, his face pale.

"Smitty, are you even serious about marrying this girl?"

"Of course I am!" he declared.

"Well, it hardly seems like it! You haven't submitted the formal request, made any of the normal arrangements, and you couldn't even be bothered to choose what type of cake to have at the ceremony! What have you two been doing with your time?"

Now his face went red. "Well, we've been... we've been... getting to know each other. In a manner of speaking."

She nodded in understanding. No, they wouldn't want to be interrupted during that. "You've been having sex."

His face turned even more red. "Not exactly."

"Then what have you been doing?"

He swallowed and tried several times before he got out, "Making out."

"That's a great way to get started, but it quickly turns to frustration, if that's all you do." At his continued discomfort, she asked, "She won't have sex with you?" That's an old-fashioned attitude, but Gaelund hasn't been colonized that long.

He sighed and drank the rest of his drink. "Not until we're married."

Now she got a little angry, sure she understood what was going on. Wouldn't have believed it of Smitty, but he's practically admitted it. "Or at least, until she thinks you're married. Have a nice little ceremony, have your way with her for a few days, and then, suddenly, you realize the approval never came through from Headquarters, so you aren't married after all!"

"No! Anna! It's not like that! I really want to marry her! But when I'm with her, she drives me to distraction, I can't think about anything but her! And then when I'm not with her, I can't think about anything but being with her! That's why the paperwork hasn't been submitted, or any of the decisions been made!" He sat down at his desk and called up some paperwork, began filling it out. "Here, I'm going to fill out the request to get married and get it mailed out tonight. But honestly, I don't care about any of the details of the wedding. Whatever she wants will be fine. Although, I would prefer a small ceremony, and not some grand event."

"Even a small ceremony, Smitty, should have a few guests, so people don't wonder what you're trying to hide. Not to mention she should have a maid of honor and you, of course, should have a best man. If you insist on going through a charade of a marriage, at least do it right, and not some cheap imitation!" She gave him a dark glare. "And I thought I knew you!" She marched for the door and out it, and had reached her own quarters almost before she took another breath. She was too upset to get much sleep that night.

Try Again & Interrupting Yet Again

Try Again

Month 14 Day 14

16:12 Hours

Bugalu

The door opened to let him in, just like usual. “Mac, are you up?”

She appeared in the doorway to the bedroom in her engineering red uniform. “Of course I am, I work days now.”

“How did your first day go?”

“Very nerve-wracking, actually. I kept expecting Smit to ask a question and my mind to go blank.”

“It didn’t go blank on you?”

“Well... I don’t remember him asking any questions. He just told me to go do things, and I did them. But I don’t think they were busy-work things. I was actually doing engineering!”

“Good for you. And about time, too. Now, before I go have supper, we need to talk. Privately. Is Della here?”

“Been here and gone. Supper, I think. What’s so important? Can’t we talk about it over supper?”

“No, I said privately. And after his reaction when we went to the movies, I don’t think Mr Smythe would appreciate us having supper together.”

Her face paled. “I tried to explain to him that we’re brother and sister.”

“People have trouble believing that kind of relationship can exist. I think we’re going to have cool things until he can accept it.” If he ever can.

“Well, sit down and let’s talk, then.”

She sat on the sofa; he chose the armchair. “I don’t suppose anybody’s ever talked to you about sex, so I guess I’d better.”

She smiled shyly. “Don’t be silly. I know about sex.”

Her pronouncement caught him off-guard. “How?”

“Well, for one thing, I looked it up. A lot of innuendoes and stuff like that started making sense.”

“So you know what to expect on your wedding night?”

“Well, I’ve never experienced it, yet, but I know the basics of what will happen, yeah.”

“What about pa? Is he going to get in the way?”

Pink-faced, she managed to say, “He hasn’t so far. Not with Smit.”

“What does that mean? What have you done with Smythe that might have awakened pa?”

“Kissing. Hugging. A lot of feeling.”

Making out, then. No wonder he’s so anxious to get married. “Has he ever mentioned anything about your being pregnant?”

“No, of course not. ’Cause I’m not.”

“But if he’s heard the rumor, how would he know you’re not?”

“That isn’t possible on a Fleet ship. I got my shot when I came aboard. People would be a fool to listen to that particular rumor. And I don’t think Smit is a fool.”

“He doesn’t normally listen to rumors,” Bugsy agreed. “In fact, he’s a stickler for squashing them whenever he can. How long have you 2 been an item?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know when we got engaged.”

“But how long before that did you start making out?”

“A couple of times. Why?”

“It just seems to me he hasn’t got much reason to ask you to marry him. Unless he thinks you’re pregnant.” Would Smythe see that as a reason to marry her? Maybe, because unwed mothers don’t last long in the Fleet, and he might think it worth it, to keep her in. Side-lined, for sure, but still in. She could get a job on the ground somewhere, and still be able to use her skills and knowledge.

“Maybe he loves me.”

Is that wishful thinking? Or is this Pa’s method of getting her back on track with his plans for her? Time to open her eyes. “Based on what? A couple make-out sessions? That’s not love, that’s lust. And that isn’t a good basis for marriage.”

She jumped to her feet, angry at this possible disruption to her plans. “Ha! This coming from a great make-out artist, himself! I don’t care what Smit’s reasons are, I’ll take him however I can get him!”

“But, Mac, if he believes you’re...”

“I don’t care! Now get out!”

“You heard the lady,” said a gruff voice, and Smythe glared at him from the bedroom doorway. “Get out. And don’t bother my fiancée again.”

How long has he been here? When I asked about Della, why didn’t Mac tell me she wasn’t alone? Well, he’s obviously not in any mood to listen to me. And neither is she. I suppose retreat is the word for the day. “If that’s what you want, Mac”.

 

 

Interrupting Yet Again

Month 14 Day 14

16:20 Hours

Smythe

 

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The door opened to let him into the bedroom, which was a bit of a surprise. Still, it meant nobody was in the midst of getting dressed, and entering beat the alternative of waiting for permission to enter, and possibly being seen. But we’re engaged now, so that shouldn’t be a big deal.

There was no one in the bedroom at all, but he could hear Colleen talking to someone in the living room. “You know when we got engaged.”

“But how long before that did you start making out?”

Bugalu’s voice. What an impertinent, nosey question.

“A couple of times. Why does it matter?”

“It just seems to me he hasn’t got much reason to ask you to marry him.”

Who is he to question my reasons for wanting to marry her? Unless he’s got an interest he hasn’t admitted to!

“Maybe he loves me.”

“Based on what? A couple make-out sessions? That’s not love, that’s lust. And that isn’t a good basis for marriage.”

“Ha! This coming from a great make-out artist, himself! I don’t care what Smit’s reasons are, I’ll take him however I can get him!” Smythe could hear the anger in her voice.

There, that should put him in his place. What does she mean, ‘however I can get him’?”

“But, Mac, if he thinks you’re...”

“I don’t care! Now get out!”

I’ve had enough. He stepped into the doorway to the living room. “You heard the lady,” Smythe said, glaring at the helmsman. “Get out. And don’t bother my fiancée again.” He stepped forward and put his arm around Colleen’s waist.

“Mac, is that what you want?” Bugalu asked.

Smythe fumed, but Colleen turned, making the hand on her waist more of an embrace. “We’re getting married, Bugs. Get used to the idea.” Finally, the man left, leaving the couple halfway in an embrace. “I didn’t hear you come in, but I’m glad you did,” Colleen said, rose up on her toes to give him a kiss.

He pulled her tight against him and gave her a deep kiss, which only made him hungry for more. Later, he told himself, and had to think why he had to wait. He finished the kiss, and held her loosely, which didn’t begin to satisfy his desire for her. Can I hold out another 12 days? “We should probably go and have some supper before we carry on more tests with Joe and George.”

“Hmm. How about going to the privacy dining room?”

Can I behave myself in the privacy dining room? We’re both in uniform, ready for our session with Wilson and Abdulla, so if we were seen kissing and so on... Well, that is why it’s called a privacy dining room, because it has a modicum of privacy. We’ll just have to sit on opposite sides of the table and be happy with holding hands. Just in case.

He took her hand in his and they started for the doorway. “I do wish you’d stop seeing Bugalu. Especially in private. I don’t think he approves of our engagement.”

“I suppose you’re right. Though he’s got to get used to it.”