Double Duty
Month
1, Day 9
Smythe
2354
Hours
Smitty stifled a yawn
as he stepped off the lift onto the bridge. I'm
usually asleep by now. I like a solid 8 hours. But somebody's got to make
introductions.
He glanced around.
Nearly half the midnight crew had arrived to relieve their evening shift
counterparts. Evans isn't here yet.
Cutting it close, I would think, but he's not my subordinate. And she isn't
here yet, either. Hope she's not-
A man slipped around
him from the turbo-lift, headed for the helm. "You're relieved,
Qaboos," he told the helmsman.
"Here already,
Evans?" Qaboos asked, standing up. "What's the occa-" He broke
off as he turned and saw the senior officer. "Good evening, Mr
Smythe."
Evans whirled, a
greasy smile on his lips. The midnight helmsman abandoned the helm to approach
the senior officer. "Good evening, Mr Smythe. How can I help you?"
Smitty refrained from
grunting. "You're getting a new communications officer."
"I assumed Lt
Chun would be assigned to midnights. It is good of you to personally see that
the transition goes smoothly."
Smitty folded his
arms. "It's not Chun. It's-" The turbo lift opened behind him, and
the smell of lilacs drove all other thoughts from his mind. But he didn't need
the perfume to tell him who had arrived, because every set of eyes on the
bridge was staring at the newcomer. Most seemed unable to tear their gaze away.
A vision of red
loveliness passed in his peripheral view, skipped lightly over to the helm and
saluted Qaboos, who was still waiting to be relieved. "Lt Colleen
MacDowell reporting for duty," she told him as he automatically returned
her salute. "I've been assigned to midnight communications."
Qaboos' gaze started
to wander down her form, then quickly pulled back up, his face red. "I'm
not midnights, I'm evening. You need to report to Lt Evans."
"My apologies.
Where might I find Lt Evans?"
"He's over there,"
he stated, pointing toward the lift. "With Mr Smythe. But you-"
She whirled, and her
emerald eyes ignored Evans, found him
right away. She threw another salute. "Sir! Lt MacDowell reporting for
duty!"
Smitty's focus landed
on the green bandage on the saluting hand. "Now what have you done to your hand?" he demanded, stepping
around Evans to approach her.
Her eyes flicked to
the bandage, although they were the only part of her that moved. "Umm...
it's the same bruise, sir."
Realizing she was
still saluting, he gave a quick salute, mumbled, "At ease," then
caught hold of her hand as she lowered it. "That's not a thermal
bandage," he stated.
"No, sir, I
appear to be past that stage. This is more of a... an immobilizing
bandage," she admitted.
He raised his head to
stare at her angrily, his mind working on how to rearrange schedules to cover
for her. "You told me it would not interfere with your work!"
"Yes, sir. I
didn't think it would," she returned, her eyes on his chest instead of his
face. "I still don't. The bandage won't keep me from using the hand. It
just-" She paused and looked around him to the communications console.
"Look, I'm late. Can I at least relieve Lt... uh...
whatever-his-name-is?"
"You're not
relieving anybody until I know you're capable of doing the job!"
She looked stunned,
her face white. "I thought I had 6 months to prove that," she
whispered.
Oh,
no. They only ask when they need all 6 months. And sometimes, that's not
enough. What did I expect, coming from a tug? "I meant
because of your hand. I need to know that - despite your injury - you can still
function."
Her eyebrows pulled
together, and she licked her lips. "How would you like for me to prove to
you that I can handle it?"
By
dexterously and cunningly using it to handle me- Stop it, Smitty!
"I want you to manipulate the controls. I'll watch while you go through
the shift-change checks."
She looked at him
thoughtfully - like she's considering
some hidden meaning in my words - and then headed for communications.
"You're the boss."
Does
she have to constantly remind me
what she expects from a boss? He followed her to the
communications console.
"Excuse me,
lieutenant, I'm being given a pop quiz," she said quietly to Chun, who
obligingly vacated his seat. Smitty was pleased she did not sit, since she was
not officially relieving him. Nor did she don the earpiece/mike combo. Instead,
she turned on the external speaker. She glanced at Smitty, paled, took a deep
breath and then went through the sequence, pausing after each switch or knob to
hear the 'okay' tone from the internal diagnostics. She wasn't fast, her hand
roamed aimlessly above the controls as she frequently paused to think about
what came next, but she did - eventually - finish. She turned off the speaker
and faced him.
She
took her sweet time, but she got it done. And never used her injured hand. Was
I mistaken? I thought- She bent down to retrieve her dropped spanner, and he
got a very good view of a rounded rear tightly encased in red uniform shorts- Not that I paid much
attention to which hand she used. "Are you
left-handed, then?" he asked testily. "You might have just said
so."
She seemed genuinely
surprised, looked down at her hands and blushed. "No, I'm not." She
gave a deep sigh. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on her face.
"It's just that... this isn't the first time I've... had a bruised
hand."
He grunted. "You
think you could use it, if you had to."
She didn't answer
verbally right away, just held the bandaged hand up and slowly balled it into a
fist. Her face went white, but there was no other sign of discomfit.
"Yes," she stated, and straightened it out again.
"But you were
told not to use it, if you could avoid it," he guessed.
She hesitated.
"Not those exact words, but that's the impression I got."
"I'll check with
MacGregor in the morning, so if you're spinning a tale-"
"Oh, not
him!" she exclaimed at once.
Thought
so. "I assume you don't want me to check with him because
you have been spinning a tale?"
"Check if you
want, I assume it'll wind up in my medical file, but I haven't seen him
since-" She stopped, confused, muttered, "When did he-?" She
shrugged the question away. "This
bandage is from Doc Davis, who saw me about an hour ago."
When
did MacGreg do what? None of my
business, as long as she's capable of working. How long have I been here,
making a big deal of a bruise? It's up to the doctors to decide if she's not
medically capable of doing her job. All I've done is make a scene. Made a fool
of myself. "Alright, you're approved for duty," he told her
gruffly. He turned to the man who had made room for her. "You're relieved,
Chun."
"But... I just
relieved Clines!" Next to Chun stood the evening communications officer,
Clines. Oh, blast, this is a day off for
midnight communications! How could I have forgotten? And I never told Colleen,
either! I'm an idiot! "Evans!"
"Yes, sir."
Why
in space is he standing at my elbow? He should be at his post- He hasn't
relieved Qaboos! Why are all these extra people still here? Watching me make a
fool of myself. That'll be all over the ship by morning.
"Lt Evans, you're late reporting for duty."
"You're right,
Mr Smythe. I didn't know introductions would take so long, or I would have
relieved Qaboos before we got... distracted."
Distracted.
Watching a fool engineer interacting with a subordinate like a... like an
infatuated school boy! "This is Lt MacDowell,
your new communications officer. MacDowell, this normally would be a day off
for you, but you just had 3 days off, so you're working tonight, under the
tutelage of Lt Chun."
"Me?" the
man blurted.
Smitty gave him a
sharp look, then turned for the lift. "Get to work," he told the
bridge crew in general. I can't let her
get to me. It's good she's assigned to midnights so I'll hardly see her.
Especially considering how poorly I control myself when she's around. Right
now, I'd better get to bed; it's going to be a short night.
Assuming
I can get any sleep, after this.
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