Daring Decision

Month 10 Day 25

1911 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu walked into the living room of Room 42 expecting to find Mac working on her projects, and stopped in surprise. His adopted sister stood with a foot resting on her desk and was bent over, trying to touch her forehead to her shin. And she isn’t wearing that much, either, just a skimpy 2-piece exercise outfit. When did she get it? Abdulla did a blast of a job taking her shopping, but I’m not surprised I’ve never seen her wear this outfit in the gym.

She had twisted her head toward him when he entered, and now she stood up. “You shouldn’t be here,” she told him. “I’ve been confined to quarters. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to have visitors.”

“Actually, I’m here at Della’s invitation,” he returned. “Sort of.”

Mac gave him an uncertain, scared little grin. “Do I get to watch this time? Because I can’t leave.”

“I don’t think that’s what she had in mind,” he replied, and looked around the room, which was devoid of any other people, including Mac’s blond roommate. I guess Della let reason prevail about that crazy party idea she had. “I thought you’d be working on your projects.”

She grimaced and put her other foot on the desk to do a similar stretch. “I checked on them. The computer is chugging right along without too much input needed from me. Since I won’t be able to get to the gym to work out, I thought maybe I should try to see how much ballet I can remember. It’s shocking to see just how un-flexible I am these days. So I guess I’ll be working on that.”

“You should have told Smythe you didn’t build those things.”

She stood up again and walked over to stand in front of him. “I tried. He wouldn’t even let me finish the sentence. He obviously was not in the mood to listen to anything I said.” She put a hand on his shoulder, raised the opposite foot behind her and tried to coax it toward her head with her other hand.

Bugs heard the door open behind him. “You might want to get some clothes on,” he suggested. Mac stopped stretching to peer around him, then turned and made a mad dash for the bedroom. In a moment, he heard the bathroom door close. He turned to find Capac and Ryan staring at the bedroom, their mouths open.

“Did we... interrupt?” Capac asked.

“No,” he answered. “She’s a little upset.”

“Can’t blame her!” Della stated, and Bugs realized she was organizing a few bottles of liquor on her desk. “I can’t imagine what she’s done that makes Mr Smythe so angry with her all the time.”

“Well, has she been in his bed yet?” Ryan asked. “Maybe he’s overheated.”

Interesting idea. But the look Bugs gave the other man was cold. “He’s not Winthrop.”

Ryan grinned. “No, of course not. But he is a man.”

Della giggled. “Some of us wonder. He never even looks at a female.”

“You mean, female engineers,” Ryan corrected. “I hear he’s seen Monroe.”

“Who hasn’t?” Bugsy asked. “She’s almost as active as you, Della.”

“Almost,” Della agreed cheerfully.

More people entered, some carrying bowls of snacks. Kyle brought 1 of the mistletoe units and let it loose. Someone started some music. By the time Mac emerged from the bathroom - fully dressed in long sleeves and slacks - Della’s party was going full steam. “What’s going on?” Mac asked in bewilderment.

“Della’s having a party,” Capac told her. “But you didn’t need to change for it.”

Mac looked around wildly. “Della!” She hurried across the room, and her roommate obligingly turned her attention away from Ryan. “Della, we can’t have all these people here! I’m confined to quarters!”

“They’re my guests, not yours,” Della answered with a shrug, and moved away.

Mac opened her mouth to protest, hesitated, and then had to follow the blond, who stopped next to Bugalu. “Wait. Does that work? It doesn’t seem right.”

“Look, I wanted to have a party,” Della told her. “It’s not your fault if Mr Smythe didn’t know that.” She turned to the helmsman. “Tell her, Bugalu.”

Bugsy stared into Mac’s green eyes and knew he could not give his sister the answer Della wanted him to give. It’s obvious Mac hasn’t been studying regulations. And whatever I tell her right now, she’ll accept as the truth. Because I keep her out of trouble. But if Della is determined to have a party, and Mac realizes she can’t stay here during such a thing, but she can’t leave... What a mess. It’s never pretty when roommates argue. “Here’s the thing, Mac-”

“Hey, Mac.” Ferguson breezed past, put a hand on her arm to turn her to face him. Her back suddenly stiff, her hands clenched, she swung into a fighting stance and took half a step backwards. Ferguson held up his hands, palms facing her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. But I thought maybe... you know.” He gestured over her head. “Mistletoe”. He grinned.

“Not again!” she groaned under her breath. “It was almost a relief to get confined, to get away from that stuff.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big kiss, Mac,” Ferguson stated softly.

She placed a dainty hand on the big cook’s chest. Then stiffened her arm so he couldn’t pull her any closer, grabbed Bugalu’s tunic with the other hand and pulled him toward her. “Bugalu?”

He couldn’t help but remember the feel of her body pressed against his as they danced, during her first shore leave on the Fireball. My kissing her - again - is probably not a good idea. “Not me, Mac. Pick someone else.”

“Please, Bugs!” she pleaded. “Papa...” She couldn’t finish, but he knew what she meant. Blast! Papa has lousy timing! This would have been the perfect time for her to experiment with kissing and then laugh it off and use the mistletoe as an excuse, if anybody wanted too much. “Please, Bugs,” she breathed, stepping closer.

He sighed. This is against my better judgment. “All right,” he agreed, and slipped an arm around her. He intended a light, quick meeting of the lips, but found he couldn’t end it that quickly. Her arm slipped around his neck, and he pulled her tight.