Rating: G
Author's notes: Okay, this is a short piece to explain the goatee Donovan suddenly grew between the end of season one and the beginning of season two. Beta'ed by Aldaj. Thanks, Aldaj!
The New Look
By Trekkieb
Captain Craig Donovan wiped the steam from his bathroom mirror with one hand. He stood there, torn. Turning his face first one way, then the other, he scrutinized his appearance, trying to make up his mind.
The thought had come to him the other day that he needed a change. A new look. Where that thought had come from, he didn't know, but it wouldn't go away. He didn't know what he was going to do. There wasn't a whole lot he could do to change his appearance. Well, except for one thing.
He had a decision to make. A simple decision. It should be easy. He was a captain in the military. He'd been in countless terrifying situations as a SEAL, faced death more times than he cared to count, been involved in some of the most dangerous operations. So why was it so darn difficult to choose?
He sighed to himself. "Donovan, you wuss. Just decide." And he did.
Walking down the corridor, Donovan was on his way to one of the hangars to take a ride.
"Hey, Donovan, hold up!" a familiar voice called to him. Donovan turned to see Frank Parker, his closest friend, jogging to catch up to him.
"Hey, Frank," he said genially.
Parker looked around surreptitiously then pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. He thumbed through it with obvious delight. "Check it out," he said gleefully. "I just cleaned out Ballard and Glover. Ah, thank you, Lab Rat Number Three." He sniffed the green bills appreciatively.
Donovan shook his head in wonder and smiled. Frank just didn't know when to quit. They started walking again, but then Frank grabbed his arm and brought him to a halt again. Donovan raised his eyebrows.
"What's that on your face?" Frank asked, surprised.
Donovan crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. He knew this would come eventually. People had been asking basically the same question all morning. He could always count on Frank to not let something be. "What's what?" Craig said, no expression on his face.
"That." Frank gestured at Donovan's face.
"I've decided to grow a goatee."
"Why?" Frank asked.
"Because I decided I needed a new look," Donovan explained.
"Again, why?" Frank gave him a funny look.
"Just because." Donovan was starting to get peeved. Why did Frank have to make such a big deal about it? He started walking again.
Frank kept pace, still staring. "I don't know, Donovan. It's gonna take some time getting used to."
"Tough," was Donovan's answer. It was actually kind of amusing seeing Frank so surprised. He was definitely going to keep it now.
They parted ways at Frank's quarters where Frank intended to stash his cash. It wouldn't do to have Ramsey on his case if he found out about the betting on lab rats.
Donovan continued on his way, shaking his head again.
Donovan came upon Olga Vukavitch. The pretty scientist was kneeling on the carpet, gathering a bunch of papers and folders that lay scattered on the floor.
"Here, let me help," he offered, crouching down beside her.
She smiled at him and tucked her red hair behind one ear. "Thank you," she said. She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else. In no time, they had gathered all the stray papers, and they rose to their feet.
"So, what's all this?" he asked, indicating the papers he held.
"Oh, just some data for research I'm doing on the effects caused by backstepping on the aging process."
Donovan nodded his head. "Sounds interesting." That was something he'd never been able to figure out. Frank was actually a year younger than Donovan was, but with all the backstepping Frank did, he was now technically the same age. It was just way too complicated for his taste. "So, where you headed?"
"My lab. I wanted to check some tests I'm running on the computer."
Donovan offered to walk with her, making small talk. In a lull in the conversation, Donovan sensed Olga looking at him. He smiled slightly and said, "Go ahead and ask."
Olga seemed embarrassed, but asked anyway. "I couldn't help but notice, are you planning on growing a beard?"
"That's right." He turned his dark gaze on her, waiting for her to say something else.
She nodded, thinking about it. "I think it will look nice."
Donovan smiled. "Thank you, Olga. You're the only person who seems to think so." It was about time, too. Everybody seemed to be of the opinion that a goatee did not suit him. Donovan couldn't fathom why not. It was nice that at least one person thought otherwise.
The next day, Donovan walked into the briefing room. There'd been another disaster. The NSA panel had authorized a backstep. The team was gathered for one last meeting to go over some new information before Frank jumped back.
Donovan had been the recipient of more questions about his new look. It seemed like almost everybody wanted to know why. God, help him, if one more person asked him about his stupid beard, he wouldn't hold himself responsible for his actions. There was only so much a man could take.
He sat down in an empty chair around the conference table.
Ramsey was staring at him, coffee cup almost to his lips. "What's with the new look?" he asked in that obnoxious way of his.
Donovan wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He wanted to
throw a fit. Couldn't do that, though. He had a reputation to maintain.
Instead, he groaned audibly and put his head in his hands. Why me?
THE END
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