Another Argument With a Friend

 Month 16 Day 6

1039 Hours

Drake MacGregor

 As soon as the alarm on his bed started to beep, Smitty tapped the button to turn it off, then turned on the dim light in the top of his bunk. Drake forced his eyes open and saw the engineer head for the bathroom. He'd been waiting for Smitty to wake up, and had nearly fallen asleep himself. If I didn't need to get this talk with him over with, I wouldn't have made an effort to stay awake. It's been a long time since I've worked the A shift.

Drake drug himself out of his bed without turning on any more lights, and followed Smitty to the bathroom. He blinked in the bright light as he entered. Smitty was adjusting the controls on the shower, and turned to see who had come in.

"Do you mind, Drake?"

"No, I don't mind," he answered. "And this is a barracks bathroom, Smitty."

"Yes, alright," he stated and turned back to his shower.

"We need to talk," Drake told his friend.

Smitty gave him a brief look of confusion. "About what?"

Drake paused to lock the bathroom door, which wasn't usually done for a barracks bathroom, but he was hoping to keep their conversation private. "We've narrowed down when Mac got pregnant."

Smitty scowled. "Sometime in the last 6 weeks. Yes. I was there."

"You didn't stick around for all of our discussion," Drake pointed out. "The machine says about 6 weeks, because that's about the right timing for the size the fetus is. But the first 1 to 3 weeks of that timeline is the female's body getting ready to be pregnant, if an egg gets fertilized."

"I've been through that class, MacGregor." The engineer sounded impatient.

"Well, Mac knows exactly when it happened, because it's the only night she's ever had sex."

Smitty stopped lathering up and turned his head to stare at him. "She says it's my child?"

Don't like the stubborn look he's got in his eyes. Has he been down this road before, with another woman who claimed her child was his? Not in the time I've known him, but there's years before that. "She says it happened the night before you two were to be married. She further says that you're the only man she's ever been with. Sexually."

"Oh. Well, if she says it, that must make it true," Smitty said tightly.

Blast, he's in full-blown denial. Drake stepped closer to the showers. "Smitty, have you ever had sex with her?"

Smitty frowned at him. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"And was it on the eve of the day you two were going to get married?"

Smitty turned off the shower and grabbed his towel. "Yes," he admitted again. "But... I don't know who she was with before she came to my quarters."

Full-blown denial. But why? When he proposed to her, he already thought she was pregnant! "Why does it matter, Smitty? When you proposed, you thought she was pregnant, and you didn't seem to care."

"I didn't," he admitted. "But I told her that any other children born to our marriage would be mine! And now, here she is, trying to pass this one off as mine, just so I'll marry her!"

"Smitty, she called off the marriage," Drake reminded him. He was gratified that Smitty stopped drying himself, at least momentarily. Maybe that got through to him, a little, at least. "Maybe she didn't like something you said that night. Like believing the stupid rumors that she was pregnant. Which she wasn't."

"Well, she is now." He wrapped the towel around himself. "And claiming it's mine. So, are we done here?"

Okay, then, if he's going to be stubborn, then it's on to Plan B. He stood up straighter and smiled. "Yeah, I guess we are. Thank you, Smitty. Now I can propose to her!"

"You!"

"Why not?" he asked. "I've been divorced a number of years. About time I settled down, try not to make the same mistakes again."

"You've never mentioned wanting to get married!"

"Well, neither did you, before you suddenly proposed to Mac. Doesn't mean I've never thought about it. I'm getting a little old to be gallivanting around the galaxy. I could ask to be transferred to any planet-side hospital, or even a space station. Surely the Fleet could use an engineer with her talents in that kind of environment, and she wouldn't need to be completely sidelined for 18 years while the child grew up."

"She's the same age as your daughter!"

He gave Smitty a pained look. "Well, I'm not quite that old. No, she's a few years older than my daughter. Maybe they could be friends." He smiled even more broadly. "Yeah, I like that idea. Assuming we're not somewhere halfway across the galaxy or something.

"You can't marry her!" Smitty declared. "She agreed to marry me!"

"And then she cancelled that agreement," Drake reminded him again. "Which didn't seem to please you at the time, I admit. But you can't have it both ways, Smitty. If you don't want her—and from what you've said, the way you're behaving, it certainly seems like you don't—then you can't keep her from accepting somebody else. Like me." He unlocked the bathroom door and left, returned to the bed next to where Smitty had been sleeping, and turned in, his back turned to the dim light coming from Smitty's bed.

Well, now I've done it, I suppose. If Smitty stubbornly decides he's not going to be 'trapped' into marriage, then I'll have to propose to her. And what's wrong with that? It would certainly solve her immediate problem. All of what I told Smitty was true, except I was thinking of asking for the transfer in another 5 years or so. No, seems to me there's a lot more positives to this plan than there are negatives.

Smitty came from the bathroom and went to his bed to get dressed. Several times, he sighed, and once, Drake felt Smitty staring at his back, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't think what. Eventually, the bed light went out, Smitty left, and Drake settled into sleep.

Further Damage

 Month 14 Day 28

1211 Hours

Dr Drake MacGregor

 The mood at the lunch table was... strange. Strained? Maybe tense? Drake wasn't sure what word described it. Smitty was completely preoccupied and tended not to respond until the 3rd or 4th time his name was used. Jane was testy and then contrite for being testy. Drake felt that he preferred being alone for this meal, during which Smitty's preoccupation was a constant irritant to Jane.

"Smitty!" Jane said again, and perhaps she kicked the engineer's foot under the table.

"Hmm?" The tactic seemed to work; Smitty actually raised his eyes to look at her. "Yes, Captain?"

"I hear you've got MacDowell on light duty for a few days. How's she doing with it?"

"Fine," he answered. "She seems to be picking up the paperwork almost as fast as any other aspect of the job."

"Even with only 1 hand to use?" Drake asked.

"Well, I haven't been watching over her shoulder," Smitty answered. "But one-handed hardly seems to have slowed her down, once she understands the paperwork."

"Good to hear," Jane told him, and went on, lest he get lost in his thoughts again. "What aspect of engineering is she least adept at?"

"What?" Smitty seemed surprised by the question, and then flustered. "Well, I... I don't know that I can say, captain. She hasn't been in engineering long enough for me to have made a full appraisal of her skills."

"Really?" You usually have your doubts by the time they've been there a week. I haven't heard you express any doubts about this one at all. Not recently, anyway."

"Here she comes," Drake stated. Holding her tray in her left hand and hardly limping at all, Mac followed Harris as they threaded their way across the mess hall floor in search of a table with room for them. And then, Drake could only watch in horror as an inattentive crew member scooted away from his table, sending the back of his chair into Mac's injured thigh.

"Oww!" The redhead hopped on her good leg, trying to retain her balance. It was no use. Drake reached out to grab Mac's tray before it fell to the floor. Mac combined hopping with heavy limping, but remained off balance.

"What the—" Smitty turned his chair at the commotion, and somehow, Mac landed in his lap. After his initial shock, he asked her, "Are you alright?"

She took several rapid, deep breaths, and wiped away a tear with her good hand. "I don't know. I'll have to see if I can walk."

"Well, not right away," Drake told her, setting her tray on the empty side of the table, across from Jane. "Let that leg rest for a few minutes, at least. You can sit here with us."

"Yes," Jane agreed. "And then report to sick bay before returning to duty."

"She's already scheduled for physical therapy after lunch," Smitty stated. "If she needs support to get to sick bay, I'd be happy to provide it."

Mac frowned and carefully moved herself off Smitty's lap and to the empty seat. "Thank you for the invite, captain. I'm not certain I could have gone any further at the moment." She glanced at Smitty, then at Drake. "As for lending me support to get to sick bay, it makes more sense for Dr MacGregor to do it, since he will no doubt be headed that way."

"It would be my pleasure," Smitty stated. "It would give us a chance to talk."

Mac gave him a slight frown. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I beg to differ!"

"You're entitled to your opinion," she returned. "Allow me to clarify. I have nothing to talk to you about, and no desire to listen to you."

"That seems pretty harsh," Drake muttered.

Smitty stared at her in surprise. "But what have I done?"

"You could at least tell him that much," Jane said calmly.

Mac squirmed—as much as her injuries would allow her to—and took a drink of her iced tea. Looking only at her food, she stated, "He decided to put me on light duty without discussing it with me."

Jane didn't comment. Smitty protested, "I made that decision based on what Dr Davis said were your limitations!"

"I wasn't speaking of today," she responded, and took a bite of her sandwich.

"But—" Smitty began, and then subsided, a confused look on his face.

"Was that bit of talking so difficult?" Jane asked the girl softly. "Sometimes talking can accomplish quite a lot. I wouldn't rule it out so blithely, if I were you. For instance, if you feel you need more time to heal, you might talk to your superior officer about that."

"Never mind," Mac said, with a hint of sullenness in her voice. "If I can get to his office, I can do paperwork."

"Good. Glad to hear it," Jane told her. "I'm sure you'll give it the same dedicated attention you afford all things engineering. And communications. Don't you agree, Mr Smythe?"

Smitty looked up from his tray—which despite his staring at it, he hadn't eaten anything since Mac had fallen into his lap—and took a moment to piece out what had been asked of him. "Oh, yes, captain. She'll do a fine job." If he expected his words to mollify Mac's mood, he was disappointed.

"I will do the best I can, within my... limitations," Mac intoned, and continued eating.

"Certainly, nobody can ask for more than that," Drake stated. He also continued to eat, trying to finish his meal at about the same time as Mac. Obviously, she found this situation irritating, being trapped at the same table as Smitty, whom she didn't want to talk to, and the captain, around whom she had to be careful what she said. Mac certainly wasn't wasting any time eating her meal, which consisted of finger foods, no silverware required.

Before long, Mac stuffed the last of her cookies in her mouth, chewed a few times and washed it down with the rest of her tea. She glanced at Drake and tossed her napkin on her tray, eager to leave. "Thank you again for allowing me to join you, captain. If you'll excuse me, I'm rather eager to get to sick bay and start my physical therapy."

"Not to mention find out if any additional damage has been done to your leg," Drake added, tossing his napkin atop his half-eaten pie. "Let me dispose of our trays, Mac, and then we can be on our way."

"We'll take care of your trays," Jane stated. "Get her to sick bay and take care of that leg. And the shoulder."

Caught off-guard, Drake didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Thank you, Captain. That certainly would be a help. Come along, Mac, let's go." He lined himself up on her right side, waited for her to stand up.

She slid out of her seat on her left side, holding onto the table for added support. "I can't hold on to you on my right side, MacG, I need you on my left side."

What was I thinking? Well, I was thinking that her right leg needed the support, so that's the side I should be on. But it won't work, in this case. He walked over to her left side and took a firm grip on her arm. "You ready?"

"I hope so." And they did get out of the mess hall and half way to the lift before her leg buckled the first time.

Suspicions

 Month 14 Day 19

1630 Hours

Jane Burke

 It's a good sign that Smitty has joined Duck and me for supper. Jane selected a table and sat down, followed by the trio of underlings who followed her. Maybe those two are getting a grip on their lust, and I won't have to worry about them being indiscreet again.

She glanced at the redhead, and noticed a familiar form coming across the mess hall. And now's my chance to gently prod that fellow on his strange behavior the last several days. "Lieutenant!" she called and raised her hand to get his attention.

Bugalu changed his direction to stand behind the redhead. "Yes, captain?"

The redhead had been turning to see who was behind her, but abruptly sat forward, one hand white as it gripped her knife. Smitty dropped his own silverware to reach out and cover MacDowell's taut hand.

He's reassuring her about something. Or making it plain the two of them are together. Or both. Jane turned her attention to her helmsman. "I thought I might persuade you to join us this evening. I'm sure we can make room for you."

The redhead squirmed, her head low. "Colleen," Smitty whispered.

I can't tell if that was a threat or a plea.

"I'm sorry, captain," Bugalu answered. "I... have a prior commitment tonight."

MacDowell swallowed and resumed breathing. Smitty's hand eased over hers.

Something is definitely going on between those 2. Or maybe it's those 3. Even Duck is aware of it. "I should have issued the invitation before now. Perhaps another evening, then."

"I look forward to it," Bugalu stated with an unmeant smile, and walked around them to a table somewhere behind Jane.

Duck turned his head to follow Bugalu's progress, and began muttering.

"Speak up," Jane instructed softly. "I can't hear you."

Duck cleared his throat but kept his voice low. "What's gotten into the younger generation? I never would have passed on a chance to eat with a superior officer just to eat with the same people as always."

Jane turned her head to face him, and saw in her peripheral vision that Bugalu had taken a seat with Capac. "Perhaps they have something important to discuss tonight," she suggested, and turned back to her chief engineer and his new protégé. "And have you two taken time to discuss all the important details of your wedding ceremony? Time is getting short, and I haven't heard anything about who else will be in the wedding party, who's been invited, or any of that stuff."

MacDowell raised her head to stare at Jane, her gaze shifted to a point beyond Jane, and then her head abruptly lowered again.

"Is something wrong, Lt MacDowell?" Jane asked in concern.

"I've... I've selected the cake," the redhead answered, but only raised her head enough to see Jane's tray of food. She turned her attention to Smitty. "I chose white cake, white frosting, and pineapple puree, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, yes," he answered hurriedly, and patted her hand. "Sorry, captain, the days have been passing in something of a whirl for us. Time has, uh, gotten away from us, you could say. But it's just a matter of... of asking the people we want to be involved."

"Time has indeed gotten away from you, if you haven't done that yet," Jane agreed. That came out with a touch of anger that I didn't intend to include. They haven't even lined up their wedding party? What have they been doing?

"Yes, we plan to rectify the problem this evening," he told her, and turned to MacDowell, who was just taking a bite of roast beef. "You remember, Colleen, you're going to ask... uh... that woman... to be your maid of honor."

She gave him a panicked look, as if she had no idea what he was saying. "Um, who did you want me to ask?"

He smiled as if she was joking, but it was Jane's impression the question had been in earnest. "Now, you know that's your decision. It's usually your best friend."

MacDowell's gaze slid past Jane's head again, then rolled over to Duck before jerking back to her fiancé.

The glances weren't lost on Smitty, and he would have been gritting his teeth if he hadn't been so determinedly smiling. "Your best female friend. I've got her name on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite..."

"You mean, Yellow Dog?" MacDowell asked.

"Yes! That's it!" Smitty agreed at once. "Lieutenant Yellow Dog! How could I have forgotten her name?"

"Yeoman," Duck muttered.

Duck's got a point. MacDowell and Yellow Dog arrived together, and it was obvious they got along well then. Not to mention all the times I've seen them together since then. And if I've noticed it, and they really have been talking about their wedding plans, how could Smitty have forgotten such an important detail?

"Tell you what, Colleen, after we've eaten, you can run along and ask, um, Yellow Dog, and I'll ask my, er, best friend. You can send a few invites to the rest of your... friends, and then we can meet up in the arboretum. About 1900? Will that give you enough time?"

"I think so. Do... do you mean all of my friends?"

Smitty's gaze veered off to a certain table somewhere behind Jane. "A few of your closest women friends would be enough."

She nodded, and scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes. "I understand."

Something is definitely going on, and I'm not sure I like it. She seems to need his permission to do anything, and he's determined that she not invite any men—and particularly not Bugalu—to the wedding. There's a problem in Paradise and at this rate, it's not going to be settled before the wedding. "Perhaps she wants to go and get started on that now," Jane heard herself suggest.

MacDowell looked up in surprise, and once again, her gaze started to wander, but she abruptly turned back to her food and began shoveling food into her mouth. "That might be best," she said, and then stopped to look at Smitty. "Don't you think so, Smit?"

"Whatever you want, Colleen. You know where to find me."

"Thank you, dear." She took another large bite of beef and potatoes and swallowed it. "Thank you for including me this evening, captain. I, um, had a wonderful time. See ya, MacG. Later, Smit." She was up and gone with her tray before anybody could respond.

Jane kept the redhead in sight until she was out of the mess hall, but MacDowell didn't glance toward Bugalu, and Bugalu made no move to follow her. Jane turned back to consider the engineer. "I see you finally remembered to send your marriage request to Headquarters," Jane said softly. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to."

"As I stated before, captain, time—"

"Yes, got away from you. Unfortunately, there's no guarantee you'll receive an answer before the date you've set for the wedding."

"I know." He seemed uncomfortable with the subject. "I guess we'll just have to face that problem when it arrives."

"I'm not sure why you're in such a rush to get married."

"Oh, we have our reasons," he answered, and suddenly wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto the remains of his meal, prepared to stand up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have those same chores to do. Good night, captain. Drake."

And then she and Duck were alone. Duck finished his entree and started on his dessert. "Is it just me, or did I detect some tension between those two?"

"I found myself wondering if it was between those two, or those three."

Duck seemed to know what she meant. "Bugs isn't competition, if that's what you mean. He and Mac are like siblings."

"The question is, does Smitty believe it?" They both shook their heads and tried to find a different subject to discuss for the remainder of their meal.

Rumors

 Month 14 Day 3

1612 Hours

Bugalu

 Bugalu rang the doorbell for Mac’s living room, and the door opened for him to enter. There was no sign of anybody in the living room. “Mac!” he called out. “Are you up yet?”

There came a grunt from the bedroom. “Ahh, not really.”

“Well, get up and let’s go eat.” Been hearing rumors about Mac, one of which is true, and we need to do something about it. One I hope is true, and one that’s just plain unbelievable. Still, as naive as she is, I’d better check it out.

She appeared in the doorway in a pair of pajamas, her hair mussed, her face white with dark smudges under her eyes. “Rain check?” she asked and yawned. “I only just nodded off an hour or so ago.”

“Get dressed, let’s go eat, then you can come back and sleep. Are you having trouble sleeping again?”

“Not usually,” she answered, and turned back into her bedroom, presumably to get dressed. “Just today,” she called back to him. “Things have happened.”

Like transferring to engineering? “What kind of things?”

“Oh, let’s wait until I get some food in me. Maybe then I can wake up and talk coherently.”

Well, I can’t fault her for that. I’d like some coherent conversation with her. “Well, don’t take too long getting dressed; I’m hungry.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” And before long, she came out of the bedroom in a red shirt and blue slacks. For once, she didn’t have the shirt tucked in. Her hair was still looking messy, but was confined in a mass of curls at the nape of her neck. “Okay, I guess I’m ready,” she said, pulling on her 2nd shoe. “Let’s go.”

They spoke of trivial things until they got their food and found a seat on the edge of the mess hall. Once seated, he lowered his voice. “I’m been hearing rumors about you.”

Mac stirred sugar into her oatmeal, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know if I should say, ‘after all this time?’ or ‘again?’. Because there’s usually always rumors about me.”

“And most of them I ignore, but today’s batch needs some discussion.”

“Well, that can’t be good. Which one is first?”

“That night you were written up, you were seen coming out of my bedroom.”

Her forehead furrowed. “Not exactly a rumor.”

“Yeah, but you know what kind of meaning they’ve attached to it.”

She sighed. “Does this mean we can’t see movies on Fridays?”

“No, but if somebody says something to your face, or you overhear it, you have to have a response ready.”

“I have the truth. I was late reporting for duty, and I stopped by your place to get dressed.”

“It may be the truth, but it hardly sounds innocent. And the more you explain the circumstances, the less innocent it sounds.”

She buttered her toast. “So I can’t tell them the truth? Then what do I say?”

“The only thing I can see is to deny it ever happened. Both of us deny it, if it ever gets mentioned to us. Just flat out deny it.”

“That’s not the truth.”

“The truth doesn’t sound like the truth.”

She frowned. “Alright. But nobody’s ever mentioned it to me, so I doubt I’ll have a chance to deny it. What’s next?” She piled a spoonful of oatmeal on the corner of her toast and bit the corner off, began chewing.

“That you’re transferring to engineering.” He cut a bite off his meatloaf.

“That one’s true, too,” she stated, and then hesitated. “At least, I requested to. I haven’t officially heard whether or not I get to.”

“I got that one from Abdulla, so I would say it’s going through. Congratulations!”

A big grin took over her face. “I’m going to have cake tonight! To celebrate!”

“It came faster even than I imagined. I mean, I knew Ivy’s good at her job, but I didn’t know how much you’d learned on your own.”

“I think I surprised her,” Mac stated in embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed by it. It’s a good thing. Now you have thoroughly upset all your father’s plans for you.”

“Oh. I guess I have, haven’t I?”

“Now, the next rumor I heard is hard even for me to repeat.”

“That sounds ominous.” But she shoved a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth without concern.

Bugalu looked around, then lowered his voice even more. “Somebody has spread the rumor that you’re pregnant.”

She choked on her oatmeal and hurriedly washed it down with half her glass of juice. She leaned close to him and uttered, “Absolutely not!”

He leaned closer to her, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you sure? I’m no expert, but the symptoms can be—”

“I know the symptoms! I had half a dozen sisters-in-law getting pregnant almost before I knew what the word meant! I don’t have any! And I haven’t done anything to get that way, either!” But as she said this last sentence, her face went pink.

“Maybe we should—”

“Let’s sit here,” a voice said gruffly, and a tray was set on their table next to Mac’s. They looked up in surprise to find Smythe sitting down on the corner next to Mac. Capt Burke and MacGregor took the other 2 sides of the table.

“Good evening, lieutenants,” the captain greeted them. “You don’t mind if we join you, do you?”

But it was too late to do anything but greet the newcomers graciously. “No, of course not,” Bugalu replied. Blast! There goes any chance of a private conversation now. “We were just discussing Mac’s request to transfer to engineering.”

“That’s gone through,” the captain said with a smile at the redhead. “But it’ll take a few days to get the schedules rearranged.”

“I’ve explained it all in an e-message,” Smitty said, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten it yet, since it looks like you haven’t gotten any sleep.” MacGregor was staring in surprise at Smythe’s hand on Mac’s shoulder, but he couldn’t have been any more surprised than Bugalu.

“Not much, not yet,” Mac murmured. “Too excited, I guess. But I tried.”

“She was fascinated with engineering back at the Academy,” Bugsy stated.

“You 2 go back that far, do you?” Smythe asked suspiciously.

“Bugs was my brother’s roommate,” Mac stated. “The 3 of us were nearly inseparable.”

“Is that so?” Smythe asked with a cold grin on his face. Then he reached out for Mac’s hand, brought it up and kissed it. “Just remember, it’s me you’re engaged to.”

“What?” MacGregor exclaimed. “When did that happen?”

“Shortly after she requested a transfer, she agreed to marry him,” Capt Burke stated. “I was a witness.”

Bugsy woodenly turned to Mac. “When were you planning to tell me?”

“I thought it was a dream,” she muttered, and her face went white. She reached up with her other hand and pinched her arm only inches from where Smythe still held her hand. “Ouch! Well, this isn’t a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” Smythe told her, a bit out of sorts. “You don’t look at all well, Colleen. Perhaps you’d better return to your quarters and get some sleep.”

“Yes, I should,” she agreed, and as he let go of her hand, she got up and left.

“Well, that’s a rumor I hadn’t heard,” Bugalu stated, still stunned.

“It’s not a rumor,” the captain told him. “But it hasn’t gotten around yet. Before now, it’s only been known by Smitty, MacDowell, and myself.”

“And Abdulla,” Smitty added.

“Yes, Abdulla,” the captain agreed.

Black space! Even more reason for me to find a time and place for a serious, private talk with Mac!

Eavesdropper

Month 11 Day 20

2009 Hours

Smitty

 

“Oh, this feels so good, MacG.”

Smitty came to a stop, recognizing the voice, despite the sensuous tone of what was said. He looked around, trying to figure out where the redhead was. That’s what she calls McGregor. But I don’t see— Then he saw the slightly open door to the privacy room as MacGregor’s voice happily said, “I try to please.”

I just bet he does! Ice stabbed through his chest, and his feet seemed frozen to the floor. He could at least close the door before they make love!

The unseen woman gave another moan and sighed. “You always seem to know what I need.”

“Does that mean you feel better now?”

“Absolutely,” she answered. Smitty could imagine them inside, putting their clothes back to rights. “Remind me how good it feels, the next time I need it.”

“I don’t think—” The door opened wide, and Smitty found himself staring at a surprised MacGregor. “Hello, Smitty.”

The engineer could not move, but stood glaring at the other man. The redhead slipped around the doctor and stepped into the hallway. “Smit,” she greeted him softly.

“Colleen,” he responded with what breath he could muster. He cast wildly through his mind for something he could say to her. But the only thing he could think of was the fact that she had now started dating Tall Bear as well as Bugalu and MacGregor. And women always enjoy their dates with Tall Bear. “I, uh, ... I, uh, hope your evening went well?” What a stupid thing to say! Her date with Tall Bear was over a week ago! And I don’t hope it went well!

Her face went red. “No, not really,” she answered softly. “I was lucky MacG came along to make things better.”

Is she saying she prefers MacGregor to Tall Bear?

“Hey, wait a minute,” Drake stated, as he hurriedly stopped another crewmember who was walking past. “Wherever you’re headed, take Mac with you, okay?”

Yellow Dog gave Colleen a hard look before stating, “Sauna.” She took the redhead’s hand and pulled her away.

“While we’re there, could you give me a back rub?” Colleen asked. “I’ve just had so much tension lately!”

Smitty watched the 2 women disappear around a corner, then angrily turned to MacGreg, who was grinning, still watching where they had disappeared. “She has got legs that won’t quit,” the doctor mumbled.

“I’m sure you know that for a fact,” Smitty growled.

“Not like I’d like to,” the doctor answered.

He just had a quickie with Colleen, and he wants to know her even better than that? “And you call yourself a doctor!” Smitty rounded on the other man. “And an officer! Yet, here you are, having taken advantage of her when she’s trying to recuperate from a terrible ordeal!”

MacGregor finally came out of his daze. “What? What terrible ordeal? I can hardly get her to talk to me!”

“She didn’t seem to have any trouble in the privacy room!”

“What privacy room? What are you talking about?”

Smitty pointed to the privacy room where the doctor had recently emerged. “And a quickie on the table in a privacy room doesn’t usually involve a lot of talking!” he barked.

“Keep your voice down,” MacGregor told him. “You want the captain to hear us talking at the top of our lungs about quickie sex? Hardly the kind of behavior she expects from her senior officers, is it?”

“Oh, but I suppose having a quickie in a privacy room with the door halfway open is perfectly okay!” Smitty snarled.

“What are you talking about?” Drake asked once more. “I was in there with Mac, not Yellow Dog. Trying to get her to relax.”

“Who said anything about Yellow Dog? And the door was half open,” Smitty growled. “I heard you!”

MacGregor looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he was reviewing what had happened in that privacy room. “First of all, it wasn’t what you think.”

“It never is, is it?” Smitty spat, and turned to leave.

“What’s it matter to you?” Drake asked, his own temper aroused. “Is it any of your business what Mac and I might have done in a privacy room?”

No, it’s not. But if I admit that, he’ll realize... Blast my foolishness! What excuse can I offer for my stupid behavior? Stupid, Smitty, acting jealous over the sexual antics of an underling. With a sudden stab of hope, he turned back. “She’s my underling. If she’s being taken advantage of by a man of higher rank, it’s my responsibility to keep her from getting hurt.”

MacGregor stared at him for a moment. “Next, you’ll ask me what my intentions are.” He shook his head slightly. “No wonder she has you confused with her father.”

“Don’t change the—”

“Figure out your intentions, Smitty,” MacGregor broke in. “Don’t worry about mine, because I promise you, Mac doesn’t.”

“My intentions!” he sputtered. I don’t have any intentions! I can’t have any! “Don’t try to turn this back on me! If you do anything that makes her—” Careful what you say! “—makes her less... efficient in her work, I’ll have you up on charges!”

“Will you?” Drake asked. “Well, turn about’s fair play, Smitty. Been spying on her, have you? Watch yourself. Because if you do anything that causes her pain, I’ll put you on report for behavior unbecoming an officer. Now, if you don’t mind, I was on my way to a game of pool before Mac... distracted me.”

Trying to Relax

 

Month 11 Day 20

1939 Hours

Drake MacGregor

 

“Hands off!”

Drake stopped short as Ryan came flying out of the deck 9 rec room, nearly hitting Drake before bouncing off the opposite corridor wall. That can only be the work of— Mac appeared in the doorway and glared at Ryan. Like I thought.

“I don’t know how I can put it any more plainly,” she said angrily.

“Come on, Mac, what’s the big deal?” Ryan asked. “It’s not like Bugalu cares if you date others. You’ve already been out with Tall Bear and Clines.”

“They keep their hands to themselves!” she growled. “And I haven’t dated Clines, he needed help with his pronunciation of the Yukosk language.” She turned and started up the corridor.

She is so upset, I can almost see steam emanating from her. Drake hurried forward to catch her. She whirled when his fingers touched her elbow, and he flinched, expecting her fist to explode against his face. But although her fists were balled, they were held stiffly near her thighs.

“Oh, it’s you.” She turned away and started off again.

Drake walked with her, careful not to touch her again. “Mac, you need to calm down.”

“No kidding!” she snapped.

“Well, I can help.”

“I’m sure you’d like to!” she spat. “Like every other man!”

Ouch. That hurt. “Hey,” he objected softly.

She came to a sudden stop and took a deep breath, but didn’t turn to look at him. “I am so upset. I can’t even think straight,” she muttered

“I can see that,” he agreed.

She glared from the corner of her eye. “Well? What do you want me to do?”

He glanced around. They had long since left both Ryan and the rec room behind. A rec room probably isn’t a good idea for what I have in mind, anyway. His eyes landed on the door of a privacy room that wasn’t far away. “First, let’s get you away from irritants like Ryan,” he suggested, gesturing towards the privacy room.

She hesitated for a long time, then bolted inside. Drake followed at a more sedate pace, pausing in the doorway. Good. This one has a table and chairs. Still have to be careful, though, if I don’t want to go flying against a wall. Mac was already sitting at the table. Leaving the door ajar, Drake took the opposite chair, and turned it backwards to sit down, thus placing the chair back between them as well as the table.

“Now what?” Mac asked.

“Now I’m going to send you on an imaginary vacation,” he answered.

“What?”

“Try and humor me,” he smiled. “What do you like to do on furlough?”

“What do I like?” she frowned. “I don’t know. I drink. A lot.”

This could be tougher than I thought. “Okay, forget that question. If you could go anyplace you wanted to go, and do anything you found relaxing, where would you go, what would you do?” She still looks confused, like the whole concept has no meaning for her. “Okay, let’s say you have a half hour to do anything you want aboard ship, and nobody’s going to bother you while you do it.”

“Oh!” There was a gleam of interest in her eyes at last. “The arboretum, during twilight. There’s a willow there, and when I climb underneath it, I can almost believe I’m at home.” She gave a little grimace. “Well, except this willow doesn’t have a spring flowing past it. I used to sit under that willow and soak my feet in the warm water.”

“Warm water?”

“Yeah, it was a warm spring,” she answered at once. “Pretty close to a constant 99 degrees.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. Warm water, solitude, surrounded by plants. He smiled. “That good, Mac. Now, close your eyes and try to imagine what I describe”

“What are you going to do?”

Still too upset to remember she trusts me. “I’m going to sit here and describe a scene I think you’ll find relaxing.”

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then her eyes slammed shut. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, imagine this. Furlough has arrived, and you’ve booked yourself a room, your own private little hut, on a beautiful tropical island. Your hut is surrounded by gorgeous, fragrant flowers and tall palm trees. Just off the patio at the back of your hut, there is a pool of water, bubbling gently...” He went on to describe the natural jacuzzi and how good it felt when she let the warm water surround her; the aroma of the flowers wafting past her nose. He could see her body relaxing, and let his voice fade off, letting her own imagination continue the daydream. After a few minutes of silence, she raised her hands to rub their backs and fingers. After a couple minutes of that, he softly asked, “Do you need a hand massage?”

Her eyes opened just a slit, instead of popping open. “A what?”

“A hand massage. Similar to what you’re doing, but I would do it for you, work the tension out of your hands.”

She stared at her hands as she continued her efforts, then pushed them across the table towards him. “It’s like they’ve been permanently balled up for pretty much the past week.”

He gently picked up one and began rubbing the fingers, working the tension out of the muscles. Wow, if this is how badly knotted her hand muscles are, I hate to think how tense the rest of her is. Her whole body would be one big knot.

He continued working with her hands, first one and then the other, then the first one again. He wondered if he dared suggest a neck and shoulder massage. But then, as he was trying to figure out how best to make such a suggestion, Mac gave a deep sigh, and most of her tension just seemed to melt out of her. She breathed a low moan of appreciation. “This feels so good, MacG.”

I’ve never had a hand massage work so well on the entire body. “I try to please,” he returned lightly. I wish all her problems were as simple to fix as this one has been.