Yeoman Wendy Allbright stood in the doorway and contemplated her superior, rehearsing in her head all the things Admiral Nelson had forgotten to tell her when he'd requested her transfer to the Seaview.
He hadn't told her just how much paperwork there really was. She had worked in the Navy for six years. She knew that every time a ship started her engines, every time a crewman coughed, every time an officer gave an order, paperwork was generated. She could deal with that. What she hadn't counted on was the fact that paperwork doubled – sometimes tripled – on this highly classified, subsidized hybrid that was – like more and more of the Navy's vessels – part Navy, part private sector.
He hadn't told her how much of that paperwork would be scientific reports: lab reports, experiment sheets, collected data, journal articles, etc. She'd known that Seaview was a research vessel, primarily, but she had assumed that the scientists aboard did their own reports. Not so… Admiral Nelson kept tabs on all the research that went on aboard his submarine, and one of the ways he did that was to ask that all scientific paperwork be submitted to her superior to be entered into the Institute's records. It made sense, once it was explained to her – very patiently by one of the senior ratings, a Seaman Kowalski. Naturally, since the admiral was awarding research grants to these people, he would want to make sure that everything they did was scientifically sound and aboveboard.
He hadn't told her that the scientists who sailed with the boat periodically were sometimes… well, creepy was the word that came to mind. Case in point: Dr. Aaron Kelly, who was at least a ten on her internal creepy meter. His eyes were crazy scary, and he was always popping up where she least expected him. They were only a few hours out of port, and she already hoped she wouldn't have to deal with him much… And Kowalski had also warned her that some of the other scientists they'd had aboard had gone crazy, or had turned out to be traitors… A little too much excitement in her book…
He hadn't told her that he wouldn't be along for her first cruise on his boat. Well, actually, that wasn't so bad. Everyone was very nice, and they were really trying to make her comfortable. Chief Sharkey had even taken her aside to give her a few pointers about dealing with her superior. And speaking of her superior…
Admiral Nelson hadn't told her that her superior hadn't expected her, didn't really want her, and would be difficult. Oh, he was perfectly polite, and unfailingly the gentleman; she'd worked with XOs who weren't, and the experience was not fun. Mr. Morton was the kind of man who would always treat her well, but he had been used to doing the mounds of paperwork by himself. Getting him to relinquish his grasp was proving to be… impossible was the word she'd use. He just couldn't seem to give it up. And when she tried to gently disengage him, he would give her a lung-freezing look that she was certain would cow a braver person than she… She'd worked with him for a week now, preparing for this departure, and he still wouldn't give her anything to do. At this rate, she wasn't going to earn the substantial salary that the admiral was paying her…
But the most important thing Admiral Nelson had failed to tell her was that her XO was… well… any word she could think of that would fit was highly impertinent, but damn he was easy on the eyes. Younger than any XO she'd ever worked with, he was a ball of energy, constantly on the move, almost punishingly efficient, and frostily self-disciplined, but there was just no hiding the handsome, classical features with the aquiline nose and deep blue eyes. His ice-blond wavy hair never dreamed of ever being out of place, and he filled out his always-pristine uniform quite nicely. It was probably hideously disrespectful of her to imagine the chest that lurked beneath the perfectly pressed, crisply clean shirt he wore, but she couldn't help herself.
At least until he flashed that smile… Ye gods, that smile would charm the savage beast…
All of which was extremely inappropriate speculation about a man who was her superior and the second highest-ranking officer on the boat… It really was unfair that Admiral Nelson had failed to tell her… But she doubted that the crusty scientist had ever noticed or indeed cared…
And of course, he had also failed to tell her that the captain was tall, dark, handsome, and intensely fiery. Captain Lee Crane was the complete opposite of his frosty XO. Tall and slender, with a commanding air, he was also much more outgoing, sharing his electric smile with everyone. His hazel eyes were keen and warm, and when he was displeased they flashed like lightning. His dark hair was nowhere near as perfect as the XO's fair hair, but the way it swept across his forehead was endearing. His features didn't bear the same classical perfection, but his large eyes, thick lashes, appealing lips, high sculpted cheek bones, and larger than life personality meant he could more than hold his own in any roomful of attractive males… And it was just her luck that together the two of them made up the youngest and most attractive command team she'd ever worked with.
And the litany went on… The admiral also hadn't told her that - despite their differences or because of them; she wasn't sure which – they were good friends and were frequently together. It was hard enough trying to detach Lt. Com. Morton from the paperwork without drooling over him. Trying to do it under the warm amused gaze of Commander Crane was practically impossible…
But right now, the captain was nowhere in sight; the only person she had to deal with was her XO, who frankly looked exhausted. Too many double watches – the first spent in the control room keeping the boat in perfect trim, and the second doing paperwork he should have given her.
It had been a difficult cruise from the beginning, and it was barely twelve hours old. Well, of course, the difficulties had begun with her entry into the XO's office at the Institute, obediently following the admiral, eager to be introduced, and – admittedly – even more eager when she saw him.
But it hadn't started well… At first, Mr. Morton had smiled at her, literally stunning her speechless, but when Admiral Nelson introduced her as the new yeoman, that gaze had turned to ice. He had turned those iceberg eyes on the admiral, who had immediately shooed her out of the room, after which she had sat in the ante-room, smiling bravely at the XO's secretary, while raised voices behind the closed door had made it clear that she was an unpleasant surprise…
Mr. Morton had lost that argument. She had cringed a bit when the admiral had left, winking at her, and her superior had called her into his office, but he had been perfectly polite. Clearly aware that the dust-up wasn't her fault, he had never failed to treat her with respect and charm, throughout this entire hellish week, even supplying her with a young sailor – Kowalski, who had already asked her out to dinner, and proven himself to be a mischievous, fun, and gallant companion - to show her around, and help her to orient herself on the boat. But when she tried to take over the paperwork, he had given her that lung-freezing glare and explained that she couldn't possibly manage it all until she'd familiarized herself with the personnel and the boat. When sailing day had finally arrived, she was so discouraged that she had even contemplated resigning and going back to the Ronald Reagan…
Except that if she did that, her superior might get into hot water, and she really couldn't blame him… Wendy sighed, and wished that she knew how to smooth things over, how to ease herself into this odd little group of men, and make herself indispensable…
Admiral Nelson might have made things a little easier for her, but he had stayed behind to supervise the opening of a new research wing at the Institute, so there was no one to run interference for her on this first cruise as a yeoman aboard a submarine. Fortunately, the crew was wonderful, and even her superior was helpful, as long as she wasn't trying to do his paperwork… But she had already noticed that the researcher on the boat – Dr. Aaron Kelly – was a nutcase, in her professional opinion. His research into deep-sea vents might be vital, but that insane glitter in his eyes unnerved her. And he constantly popped up in unexpected places where he really had no business being…
For example, why did he find it necessary to be at the boat's office at strange hours of the day or night? There wasn't anything to see here. It was a small, enclosed space just aft of the Control Room. The most prominent piece of furniture in it was the XO's desk, and he didn't keep anything important in it as far as she knew. It was almost as if Kelly were scoping the place out, as if he were planning something and needed to know the layout… But there wasn't much of a layout really… The office was a little square box, tucked in aft of the radio shack and the control room, and the only thing in it was a desk and two chairs, and a filing cabinet tucked away into a corner. Why would Kelly care about the layout? He already knew that she and her superior were in here at all hours. Mr. Morton always left the door open when he was with her, as a protection of sorts for both of them. And when they weren't there, anyone could still enter…
The office was always open. Mr. Morton was, in fact, one of the most accessible XOs she'd ever worked with. Not only was the boat's office always open, but his cabin was always open as well. He did have a locked file drawer in the desk in his cabin, and she knew there was a locked drawer in the desk here, probably to keep payroll in.
But anything that Dr. Kelly might need or want? Absolutely not. She might not have minded his unwarranted presence so much, but Dr. Kelly creeped her out…
Wendy shook her head. Right now, she had other more important things to worry about. Like the fact that her XO was concentrating so hard on the paperwork she should be doing that he hadn't even noticed she was there. She stepped into the office and cleared her throat.
He looked up and gave her a tired smile that didn't have the wattage to warm those frozen eyes. Exhaustion lurked in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight droop of his shoulders; he always carried himself ramrod straight and moved with a precise economy of motion. Tonight he didn't even rise from his chair to greet her. What did she do with a man who worked himself to death like that?
"Anything I can help you with, sir?" There was plenty of course, if she could just get him to admit it. She had never worked with such a maddeningly self-sufficient XO.
But he clearly wasn't himself tonight, because instead of giving her an immediate, polite no, he hesitated and leaned back in his chair, contemplating her with a furrowed brow. "We'll need to distribute payroll tomorrow, and I haven't even begun to organize that." The words were slow and reluctant, but the very fact that he'd even mentioned it at all was definitely progress.
"I can work on that, sir." She smiled encouragingly at him; it was important to let him know that she was glad to handle this, and would take on even more if he'd let her. He might be her superior, but she suspected if she handled him like she handled her nephew – who was three – she might be able to coax him to give up some of the reports. "I'll have a schedule ready for your approval first thing in the morning." An expectant pause, then she prompted him again. At this rate she'd have to get a cattle prod to get him to let go of her paperwork. Or she could handcuff him to his chair… which had possibilities that were far too likely to make her blush. She put that thought out of her mind. "Anything else, sir?"
Again, he didn't immediately answer. She gazed at him expectantly; and really, gazing at him definitely wasn't hard. She hoped that in time she'd get used to the strikingly good looks of this command team, and not have to worry that her inappropriate thoughts would show on her face. "I'm here to help, sir."
This time the smile melted the frost in his eyes and made her heart skip a beat or two. "So you keep telling me, Ms. Allbright." But there was no hint of reproof in the words. Instead, he shifted restlessly in his chair, and that powerhouse smile died. She wondered for the first time if this situation was as strange for him as it was for her…
She had come to Seaview from the carrier, USS Ronald Reagan. She had been used to a gigantic ship, and a harried XO still waiting for his own command after sixteen years and five tours of duty as first officer. She had been one of a cadre of ten yeomen. And she had never ever run submerged on a submarine. The Silent Service was still dominated by men. Admiral Nelson was one of a handful of influential people trying to change that. His enthusiasm for Seaview, and his deep respect for his command team had gone a long way toward convincing her to make this change.
But Mr. Morton had served aboard Seaview for five years and had never had a yeoman. He had been solely responsible for his duties as XO, which included a great deal of paperwork. He seemed to do more of it, however, than the average XO; it hadn't taken her long to realize that he had quietly taken on the lab reports that the admiral's research generated, as well as much of the Captain's paperwork – clearly without Captain Crane's realizing it. She hadn't been on board long before she realized that if the captain had known that roughly forty percent of the paperwork that was rightfully his was being done by his XO, he would have taken it back immediately, and probably chewed the junior officer out for it.
But the captain benefitted, of that there was no doubt; he was free to roam the ship and get to know the men. He had more freedom and used it more effectively than any captain she'd ever worked under. She loved the resulting easy camaraderie and esprit-de-corps that prevailed on this boat. Everyone from the captain down to the lowest rating had done their best to ease her anxiety when the boat had dived the first time on this mission. She had been accepted as one of them, and even though she had a cabin to herself, she felt like she fit right in…
But there was a darker side to the captain's extraordinary freedom. His crisply efficient XO, who had handled everything with the precision and skill that was uniformly admired on this boat, had finally bitten off more than he could chew. He stubbornly refused to see it, but the admiral had noticed almost instantly. The paperwork had become crippling. Mr. Morton worked too many hours and drove himself too hard. An exhausted officer made mistakes and on a submarine – even one as advanced as Seaview with as capable a crew – mistakes could be fatal. The admiral had made the decision to bring her in for good reasons.
But the situation still had to feel awkward for her capable, self-sufficient, and self-disciplined XO. Wendy had never considered that before. She took a step toward the desk and used her best persuasive tone. "Is it Dr. Kelly's lab reports keeping you up, sir? I've had experience with lab reports. I can handle those for you, if you like."
It could have gone either way. The look in his eyes was speculative, a little hesitant, but in the end, exhaustion won out. "He's particular, Ms. Allbright. Very exacting."
But she knew the warning meant he was giving in. The tension she hadn't realized had straightened her back and fluttered in her stomach drained away, and she rewarded him with a smile. "No problem, sir. I'm used to exacting."
A flicker of humor lit the blue eyes, though his face remained impassive. "Yes, I can be an ogre." He rose from his chair as she laughed in surprise. A sense of humor; who'd have guessed? "Can you have the payroll schedule ready by eight hundred hours?"
"No problem, sir," she promised and stepped aside to let him pass her. Progress indeed. She made her way around the desk and sank into the chair, eager to get to work at last.
Within two hours, she had a workable payroll schedule. It was a snap really, because she only had 125 men to schedule versus the more than five thousand she'd regularly scheduled on the Ronald Reagan. The process was much faster, which enabled her to dig into the lab reports. She knew the moment she started reading Dr. Kelly's notes that exacting was an understatement. Dr. Kelly was going to be an absolute stickler. She grimaced, then put her distaste away, and started typing.
At six hundred hours, Captain Crane stuck his head in, saw her at work, and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. She leaped up and saluted, smiling when he returned the gesture, then went back to the lab report. Frankly, life forms that flourished around deep-sea vents were boring. Weird, but boring. She would be glad to have this report finished.
At seven-thirty hours, just as she typed the last word of Dr. Kelly's report, Mr. Morton swept into the boat's office, precisely dressed, tie neatly buttoned down, and every hair in place. She had never seen an officer who so completely personified perfect order. "Good morning, Ms. Allbright."
"Good morning, sir." She produced her schedule and handed it to him. "Payroll schedule, sir. If it meets with your approval, I can have it posted by eight hundred hours."
He smiled, but she read the surprise in his eyes; clearly he hadn't expected her to be so efficient. He looked over the schedule quickly. Then his eyes narrowed, and he studied it more closely, and looked up at her with dawning respect in his gaze. "Very good work, Ms. Allbright. Go ahead and post it."
She rose, stifling the smile, amazed at how much the praise meant. Oh, she was going to like being the lone yeoman on this boat. Her boss was efficient, fair, and damned good-looking… "Right away, sir." She stepped out into the hallway, and swallowed a screech as Dr. Kelly loomed up before her… "Oh! You startled me, sir!"
He didn't answer; he just smiled that creepy smile. She turned her back on him and walked away, feeling his eyes following her.