Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise. Well, that's what my psychologists
say anyway.
Author's note: A quick fun fic about a particular element of Hoshi's and Travis' friendship just for you! Okay, it's really for me. I'm so selfish.
Crash Landing
Hoshi Sato, linguist extraordinaire, practically ran to the mess hall.
Hungry . . . so hungry.
Fellow officers passing by in the corridors glanced at the young ensign curiously, her velvety hair pulled back swinging wildly and her pretty face forlorn. She looked as though she were rushing toward an emergency that desperately needed her expertise.
Hoshi flung herself into the room and started after the food as if she were a lioness after a pack of antelope.
What to eat? What to eat? Oh the heck with it! I'll just have a little bit of everything. Well, except whatever that thing that Flox is eating. Did he just mix all this stuff together?
As she loaded her plate, Hoshi's luminous eyes caught sight of Travis Merryweather and two other ensigns from Engineering. Hoshi curiously crept closer to their table.
What in the world are those three talking about so animatedly? Travis Merryweather leaned forward eagerly, his enthusiastic words and twinkling chestnut eyes captivating his audience. Travis loved telling people of his legendary piloting adventures. Thankfully, people craved to hear the exciting tales that made him so popular. Travis's audience today was two particularly green ensigns, Ensign Jenkins and Ensign Hobart, neither of which had touched their meals. Jenkins, a short and sturdy redhead with a smattering of freckles, shook his head in amazement.
"Fantastic, utterly fantastic!" crooned Jenkins to Travis' pleasure.
Hobart, a very nervous fellow with a crop of jet black hair and a body almost like spaghetti, let out a sigh.
"Oh, I wish I could fly. All I'm good for is . . . well I'm not actually the best engineer am I? How do you do it Travis?"
The linguist let out a groan.
Oh for the love of . . . Not this again! Travis is a great guy and a good friend, but that head of his does not need any extra hot air when it comes to flying.
Travis leaned back in his chair surveying Jenkins and Hobart with a hint of superiority.
"It's simple. Picture a ship as if it was a woman. You have got to get into the head of a ship and control it so it doesn't even know what's happening, just like you would with a woman". Jenkins and Hobart smiled and grinned at each other. Now it was all making sense. (The pigs!)
Hoshi Sato maybe rather short and a little petite, but still no one wants to make her mad. That woman can be extremely dangerous when pushed the wrong way.
NO . . . HE . . . DIDN'T!
Grabbing her tray, Hoshi stormed over to the boys' (Yes boys! Ya think Hoshi is going to call them men after that? I don't think so!) table. The ensigns were so busy chortling they didn't notice Hoshi, the errant missile, flying toward them until it was too late. Slowly and deliberately Hoshi dumped her meal all over Travis' head and smeared it until it completely covered the pilot's shocked face. Hobart and Jenkins couldn't even . . . well, they just sat there with eyes and mouths wide open.
Looking Travis straight in the eye, Hoshi devilishly questioned the horrified ensign.
"Guess this ship crashed landed huh?"
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I would love some reviews! Critiques are desperately needed! However, not as badly as I need to get out of this mental institution. Well, got to go. It's time to take my medication.
Author's note: A quick fun fic about a particular element of Hoshi's and Travis' friendship just for you! Okay, it's really for me. I'm so selfish.
Crash Landing
Hoshi Sato, linguist extraordinaire, practically ran to the mess hall.
Hungry . . . so hungry.
Fellow officers passing by in the corridors glanced at the young ensign curiously, her velvety hair pulled back swinging wildly and her pretty face forlorn. She looked as though she were rushing toward an emergency that desperately needed her expertise.
Hoshi flung herself into the room and started after the food as if she were a lioness after a pack of antelope.
What to eat? What to eat? Oh the heck with it! I'll just have a little bit of everything. Well, except whatever that thing that Flox is eating. Did he just mix all this stuff together?
As she loaded her plate, Hoshi's luminous eyes caught sight of Travis Merryweather and two other ensigns from Engineering. Hoshi curiously crept closer to their table.
What in the world are those three talking about so animatedly? Travis Merryweather leaned forward eagerly, his enthusiastic words and twinkling chestnut eyes captivating his audience. Travis loved telling people of his legendary piloting adventures. Thankfully, people craved to hear the exciting tales that made him so popular. Travis's audience today was two particularly green ensigns, Ensign Jenkins and Ensign Hobart, neither of which had touched their meals. Jenkins, a short and sturdy redhead with a smattering of freckles, shook his head in amazement.
"Fantastic, utterly fantastic!" crooned Jenkins to Travis' pleasure.
Hobart, a very nervous fellow with a crop of jet black hair and a body almost like spaghetti, let out a sigh.
"Oh, I wish I could fly. All I'm good for is . . . well I'm not actually the best engineer am I? How do you do it Travis?"
The linguist let out a groan.
Oh for the love of . . . Not this again! Travis is a great guy and a good friend, but that head of his does not need any extra hot air when it comes to flying.
Travis leaned back in his chair surveying Jenkins and Hobart with a hint of superiority.
"It's simple. Picture a ship as if it was a woman. You have got to get into the head of a ship and control it so it doesn't even know what's happening, just like you would with a woman". Jenkins and Hobart smiled and grinned at each other. Now it was all making sense. (The pigs!)
Hoshi Sato maybe rather short and a little petite, but still no one wants to make her mad. That woman can be extremely dangerous when pushed the wrong way.
NO . . . HE . . . DIDN'T!
Grabbing her tray, Hoshi stormed over to the boys' (Yes boys! Ya think Hoshi is going to call them men after that? I don't think so!) table. The ensigns were so busy chortling they didn't notice Hoshi, the errant missile, flying toward them until it was too late. Slowly and deliberately Hoshi dumped her meal all over Travis' head and smeared it until it completely covered the pilot's shocked face. Hobart and Jenkins couldn't even . . . well, they just sat there with eyes and mouths wide open.
Looking Travis straight in the eye, Hoshi devilishly questioned the horrified ensign.
"Guess this ship crashed landed huh?"
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I would love some reviews! Critiques are desperately needed! However, not as badly as I need to get out of this mental institution. Well, got to go. It's time to take my medication.