Lots & Lots of It
Bugalu
Shore
Leave, Day 1
0915
Hours
Bugalu glanced at the door to the
liquor shop, then winked at the comely blond who was window-shopping nearby.
She had repeatedly glanced at him as he leaned against the bulkhead, and now
smiled invitingly. The shop door opened, and Mac slipped her arm around him. Surprised,
the blond quickly left the area.
“All done,” Mac reported, and showed
him the bottle in her other hand.
That
can’t be all she got.
“Did you get enough?”
“This is for immediate drinking. They’ll
send the rest to the ship. I got-“
“Don’t tell me!” he exclaimed, and
clapped his hand over her mouth. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Technically,
I’m your superior,” he explained, letting go of her. “If I know you’re sending more than your allotment of booze to the ship,
I’m required to do something about
it. Like report it. And there goes your stash.”
She nodded. “I never thought of that,”
she stated. “Scary.”
Scary
is remembering her smashed up against me in the transport pod. No, Bugs, don’t
think about that. “Well, let’s just concentrate on
having fun,” he suggested, turning onto the station’s central business
corridor.
“I saw the blond,” Mac told him. “You
could probably still catch her, if-“
“Mac, I promised you the whole shore leave,”
he returned. “Except for shopping. So, until you meet the other ladies, what do
you feel like doing?”
She tugged at his sleeve and he
stopped. She chugged a third of her bottle. He waited patiently, knowing it was
better to stop and let her drink, rather than make her try to both drink and
walk. “I’m not used to having shore leave,” she stated as they continued
walking. “What do you usually do?”
I
usually have a date on my arm. “We could play no-G ball,” he teased.
“Very funny.”
He grinned, unable to say anything
else for a moment, as they passed the open doorway of a noisy game room. He
stopped and looked back at the place, then turned to face her. “Did you ever
learn to play Phybu?”
“I manage a passable game.” She took
another drink.
“Hmm. Only passable, huh?”
She stuck her tongue out. “Passable
means you haven’t got a chance!”
“You’re on!” They turned back for the
game room.
Shopping Party
Abdulla
Shore
Leave, Day 1
1316 Hours
Abdulla considered the turquoise
outfit she had pulled off the rack. This
has possibilities. She turned to Beth. “What do you think?” she asked,
holding it up.
Beth looked at the outfit. “Wrong
color for Mac.”
“Oh, of course, not for Mac. I was
thinking about me.”
“The color’s good,” Beth decided. “But
do you like that neckline? Seems like it would make your neck look short.”
Abdulla gave the outfit another look. “You’re
right.” She put it back, and glanced at Mac, who was taking a gulp from her
whiskey bottle, her laced up leather vest trying valiantly to keep her decently
covered. “Where did she get that top? It doesn’t look her type.”
“Borrowed it from YD,” Beth returned.
“What YD was thinking, I have no idea. Every man who sees Mac in that can’t
take his eyes off her.”
“And that differs from her uniform
how?” Abdulla asked.
Beth laughed, then shook her head.
“It’d drive me crazy.”
“I don’t think Mac even notices,”
Abdulla stated.
“She’s afraid to notice,” Beth
returned. “If she notices, it’s real, and she’s to blame.”
“What, exactly, would be her fault?”
“Sometimes colony societies develop
weird beliefs. Especially about sex. The woman always gets blamed.” Beth looked
at two outfits thoughtfully, and then turned to the others. “Mac, give us some
clues, at least. What do you like to
wear?”
“Pants,” the redhead stated firmly,
and took another drink. “I just want clothes that aren’t sexy.”
“On you? Can’t be done.” Look at that bleak look on her face. Oh,
space, all those missed shore leaves on the Bartholomew! “Mac, if you’ve
had problems with unwanted attention from crewmates, I can’t blame you for
being worried. But the Fireball is not a tug. If you have problems with anyone,
you have a lot more avenues for lodging complaints. Captain doesn’t tolerate
misbehavior. You can relax and be yourself.”
“I can’t hit them when they get
obnoxious,” she stated.
“Oh, space, no!” Beth declared. “Don’t
do anything to wind up in the brig!”
Abdulla felt herself go pale. “Absolutely
stay away from security,” she agreed.
Mac looked confused. “Tall Bear seems
… not too bad.”
Abdulla and Beth both smiled. “Tall
Bear can be … wonderful,” Abdulla stated. “But he’s only the A shift supervisor
for security, not the chief officer.”
“Stay away from Lt Cmdr Winthrop,”
Beth advised. “The man is slime.”
“Worse than slime,” Abdulla agreed.
“All men are slime,” Mac stated, and
hesitated. “Well, most of them.”
Yes,
she’s definitely had problems. But obviously, she doesn’t feel that way about
Bugalu. “Look, what
clothes you wear is your decision. Like that top you have on today.”
“What about it?” She tried
self-consciously to adjust the item in question. “Bugsy liked it.”
“I’m sure he did,” Abdulla agreed
quietly. “He likes cleavage.”
“MacGregor, too,” Beth said, and
blushed at Abdulla’s questioning glance. “I’ve worked with the man for years!”
True,
but-- Maybe I’m too suspicious.
“Well, if we’re going through what various men like, Tall Bear likes shapely legs.
Winthrop likes a woman to be naked and in his bed, and the closer she gets to
that, the better he likes it.”
“No matter what it takes to get her
there.” Beth shuddered.
Winthrop
again. He’s not worth this much attention. “If you’re into women, Captain Burke likes a tight
butt.” Now Beth raised a questioning eyebrow, and Abdulla became defensive.
“I’ve noticed where she looks when she thinks no one is watching.”
“And Smythe?” Mac blushed as they both
turned to her. “Well, you mentioned everybody else I know,” she muttered.
She
must be worried about him. Makes sense, after seeing her record. “Mr Smythe does not fraternize with
his subordinates,” she stated firmly. I’ve
told her that before. How else can I reassure her?
Mac frowned and took another drink.
Yellow Dog asked, “Smythe?”
Abdulla blinked. “You, YD? I thought
you were interested in Tall Bear.”
“MacGregor will be disappointed,” Beth
muttered.
“And Bugs,” Mac added.
The AmerInd shrugged. “Undecided.” She
gave Abdulla a questioning look.
Abdulla found she had no answer.
“Smythe has always been a gentleman, no hint of any sexual overtures that I’m
aware of.”
“Smythe is a whole-package man,” the
nurse stated.
“Whole package?” Mac repeated. “What's
that mean?”
Abdulla asked, “Has he asked you out?”
Beth laughed. “If you watch Smythe
with a pretty woman – and his mind isn’t busy with engineering, which is rare –
his eyes start at her face, travel down and back up. So I figure he’s
interested in the total package.”
“That makes sense,” Abdulla agreed. Now that I think about it, I’ve seen him
glance at busts, derrieres, legs, any and every piece of a pretty woman. Never
stares, only glances. Still, I won't mention that around Mac! “Anyway, we’re trying to find clothes for
Mac.”
“Whatever will make them stop asking
me out,” Mac stated.
Abdulla sighed in exasperation. “You
can’t mean all of them!”
“Yes, I-“ Mac closed her mouth and
colored.
Apparently
not all of them. I wonder who-
“I can’t-! I just want them to stop
asking me out!”
“Then tell them no.”
“I have! I do! Repeatedly!
Emphatically! Even violently! They don’t pay any attention! And now I can’t hit
them, so- what do I do?”
“First, don’t get upset,” Beth suggested.
“Don’t hit. Don’t get angry. Just tell them no. And here’s the important part; act
as if you expect them to accept your decision.”
“Right,” Abdulla agreed. “You’re an
officer now, Mac. Time to develop dignity. No matter who they are, they can’t make you --” Woops, that’s too close to what she’s already experienced! “For
instance, let’s look at your run-in with Jones the other day.”
“Oh. You heard about that.”
“The Fireball is a big ship, but its
crew is human – mostly – and there’s still a grapevine,” Beth stated.
“Anyway, Jones made a suggestion,
which you didn’t like. You got mad, shoved him, threw your drink at him, would
have hit him.”
“Of course.”
“A simple no, with no embellishment,
no feelings … how can they argue with that? But anger, violence … those are
forms of passion. And a man will think that if you’re that passionate, then
you’re just playing hard to get, and all they have to do is wear you down.”
“Smythe told you to calm down and
report such transgressions,” Beth added. “He was saying that you don’t have to
deal with these … problems alone.”
“But that’s how I was raised,” Mac
protested.
“You’re not a little girl anymore,”
Abdulla stated. “Time to become your own woman. Now, about this mystery man of
yours-“
Startled, Mac finished her bottle. “I
need a drink.” She looked around, like she needed rescued.
“Let her have her secret,” Beth
admonished. “She’s not ready. Mac, when you’re alone, no one else is around,
what kind of top do you like?”
“When I’m alone?” the redhead repeated.
“Well, sometimes, I like loose tops, not confining. But other times, I like them
tight. Like I want to feel that I’m
decently covered.”
That’s
no help. Abdulla
asked, “What about night clothes? Do you wear pajamas or nightgown?”
“Neither.”
“You sleep naked?” That’s got to mean something. I wish I knew
enough psychology to know what.
“If I wear anything to bed, it gets
all twisted up and uncomfortable.”
Beth resumed the search for clues.
“What about underwear? Obviously, you aren’t wearing any under that top, but in
your own clothes-“
“I only wear underwear in uniform. Because
it’s required.”
Abdulla and Beth looked at each other,
and then put back the clothes they had been considering. “We’ve started in the
wrong department,” Beth stated calmly.
“Right,” Abdulla agreed. “When she
said she needed a new wardrobe, I never thought to include lingerie!”
“I don't need that,” Mac protested.
When YD took her elbow to urge her along, she sighed. “Can we detour through
the liquor department? I need another bottle.”
“Mac, you’re drinking a lot,” Beth
stated. “I’m surprised you’re still standing.”
“I’m Gaelund,” Mac returned. “I’m out
of practice, but I’m just getting started.”
“Drake does not know what he’s got himself into,” Beth muttered.
MacGregor? Abdulla wondered. Is he
Mac’s mystery man?
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