Four days later...

"It won't be that bad...IT WON'T BE THAT BAD!" Lennon shouted, dropping to her knees and flinging her arms over her head, "I distinctly remember you saying training a new rookie wouldn't be THAT bad!"

BOOM!

Charlotte hit the floor in front of Lennon, her face contorted and her hands covering her ears desperately trying to save her eardrums any more damage.

"BARBARA!"

There was a squeak from amidst the smoke that was billowing from the captain's chair, "Sorry! I didn't mean to!"

As another crash sounded, Charlotte got to her feet and reached into the cloud, pulling the young trainee out of the way of the ensuing blast.

"It's DYNAMITE Barbara!" Lennon screamed as she was showered with debris, "What did you think would happen, you'd blow it out and make a wish?"

BANG! POP! CRACK!

The entire room shook and then went still and eerily quiet. The smoke started to clear and Lennon shakily got to her feet, angrier than she'd been in a long, long time.

Charlotte was helping Barbara out of the dirt and debris when Lennon stalked over to the young auburn haired woman, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard.

"What is the matter with you?" Lennon exclaimed, "EXPLOSIVES ARE NOT A TOY! You could have killed us all!"

Charlotte yanked Lennon away from Barbara, "Stop it, Lenny!"

"I'm gonna kill her Charlie!" Lennon snapped.

"You'd be arrested, Lenny," Charlotte answered calmly.

"No jury in the world would convict me!" The geek replied, "She almost blew us up...during a training simulation she almost blew us up!"

Barbara's bottom lip quivered as she looked at her superior, "I'm sorry. So, so, very, very, sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix the Enterprise!" Lennon shook her way out of Charlotte's grasp and pointed at Barbara, "Do you have any idea how lucky you were this was a simulation? If this were real, Edwards would have your badge for breakfast!"

Lennon spun on her heel and stalked over to the bright red doors of the turbo lift, which she kicked in with ease.

Ah, the beauty of the very first training mission in 'The Box'.

The Box, you see, is a rigged version of a fandom for Busters on their first training missions to find their footing in. Practice, if you will, before stepping foot in an actual fandom.

Where this used to be a part of the academy training course, budget cuts and idiotic rules left over from when that moron Molinaro was in charge declared that prospective Busters needed to train in 'The Box' with two experienced instructors before they were even approved to go into the academy.

Lennon and Charlotte, being in between teammates at that precise moment, were automatically volunteered. They'd spent the past four days training various cadets, the last of which was this one. The past hour and a half had been devoted to keeping the incredibly accident prone Barbara Kelly from blowing herself sky high.

It was a much harder task than originally anticipated, evidenced by the huge, smoking holes that seemed to be everywhere.

Barbara was nothing if not thorough.

By the end of the day, not only was Lennon's patience gone, but so was most of The Box.

After kicking in the fake turbo lift doors, Lennon stepped out into the corridor, followed by a very apologetic Barbara, who tried repeatedly to gain Lennon's forgiveness.

Lennon, who was at the end of her proverbial rope, would have none of it.

"Don't touch me, don't talk to me, don't even look at me, Barbara." Lennon said angrily, turning to glare at the young woman with such viciousness that she took a step back, "I'm going to my room and hopefully I'll find a way to suppress the urge to kill you."

The geek stalked off and the young recruit foolishly tried to follow, but Charlotte grabbed her by the arm, "I wouldn't if I were you."

Barbara turned to look at the redhead from watering eyes and repeated the refrain of 'I'm sorry' at least ten times.

Charlotte raised her hand to silence the young woman, "It's got nothing to do with you. Lennon's been a little short fused over the past few weeks with everybody."

---

It was impossible to miss a fictional character this much.

Impossible.

Lennon's short temper, which had been getting worse and worse over the past four days, was finally to the point that she couldn't stand it anymore.

She was pretty sure it had to do with McKay withdrawals.

Not that she'd ever admit it, of course.

The geek entered her on base quarters, slammed the door behind her and crossed the room to her bed, where she flopped down.

She hadn't been this effected the last time she'd left a ship behind.

Well, that wasn't entirely true...but she'd been more concerned about Charlotte finding out about it and didn't give the entire situation as much thought as she should have. Of course, back then, she figured she'd never set eyes on Rodney McKay again, so it was easier to just push it out of her mind.

But there was something else going on...Lennon could feel it.

It was like there was something conspiring in the universe to reunite her with McKay repeatedly.

The fact that she had her own loyal, rabid group of shippers never occurred to her.

Lennon reached over to her bedside table and flicked on her clock radio, which immediately launched into a commercial touting the wondrous powers of car polish with simonize!

Whenever she needed some easily ignorable background noise, she flicked on the radio. Talk radio, to be exact.

She scrubbed a hand over her face tiredly and laid back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling.

It was impossible to miss him this much.

Something weird was definitely going on.

Lennon rolled over, intent on taking a nap, when the radio started to warble.

I'm sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream, when all at once I wake up, from something that keeps knocking at my brain, before I go insane, I hold my pillow to my head, and spring up in my bed, screaming out the words I dread-

That wasn't the right wing conservative radio announcer...

I think I love you!

Lennon sat up in bed and stared at the radio, wide eyed. The Partridge Family? What the hell?

This morning, I woke up with this feeling, I didn't know how to deal with, and so I just decided to myself, I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it, and did not go and shout it when you walked into the room-

Lennon glared at the radio.

A metaphor. Of course.

I think I love you!

But wait. Something about this wasn't quite right. Even if it was a fair comparison to her ship in places, that still didn't explain why it was playing on talk radio.

I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of? I'm afraid that I'm not sure of, a love there is no cure for. I think I love you, isn't that what life is made of? Though it worries me to say, that I never felt this way-

Lennon reached over and fiddled with the dial, switching over to half a dozen different channels.

I don't know what I'm up against, I don't know what it's all about, I got so much to think about, hey I think I love you!

It was the same on every station.

Something funky was going down...

Lennon yanked the radio's plug out of the wall.

David Cassidy continued on, undeterred.

Believe me, you really don't have to worry, I only want to make you happy, and if you say 'Hey go away' I will-

"It's alive!"

Alright, now she was starting to get freaked out.

The radio's 'life' was tragically cut short when Lennon picked it up and hurled it against the wall with all the strength she could muster.

CRASH.

There were bits and pieces of the radio laying on the ground and the LCD display faded to black.

Lennon took a well deserved breath of relief before the small item hummed back to life once more.

But I think better still, I'd better stay around and love you. Do you think I have a case? Let me ask you to your face-

Lennon cautiously climbed off her bed, keeping her vision trained on the possessed radio as she crouched down and reached behind herself beneath her bed frame to retrieve the Louisville Slugger that she kept there.

Do you think you love me?

With baseball bat in hand, Lennon gingerly approached the radio, practically tiptoeing towards it.

I think I love you, I think I love you, I think I love you-

SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!

Lennon beat the squeaking remains of the radio into the carpeting with her baseball bat. Finally, it shut off after it's lights flickered and David Cassidy's voice faded into nothingness once more.

"Lenny?"

Breathing hard with the baseball bat resting on her shoulder, ready to smack the thing again if it started up again, Lennon turned to see Charlotte in her doorway, looking worried.

"What're you doing?" Charlotte asked, eyeing the freaked out geek and the-well, what was left of the clock radio.

"It was possessed!"

"Possessed..."

"Yeah! It was playing the Partridge Family!"

"And that's a reason to beat on it with a baseball bat? Wouldn't it have been easier to just change the station?"

"It wouldn't shut off! It was taunting me, Charlie!" Lennon exclaimed, only mildly aware of how insane that must've sounded.

"Len, are you feelin' ok? I know that you've been feeling kinda-"

"I'm fine!" The geek said heatedly, using the baseball bat to point at the very, very dead radio, "I'm not nuts, Charlotte. It wouldn't change stations or shut off. I unplugged it and everything! It was like it'd been infected with by a sentient technology virus!"

"Sentient technology viruses can't exist outside the fandoms," Charlotte answered, brow furrowed.

"I know that, hence the baseball batage." Lennon suddenly straightened out, "What're you doing in here anyways?"

"There's been an emergency meeting called by the Committee."

Lennon, now recovered from her radio run-in, dropped her baseball bat and nudged it back under her bed with her foot, "Yeah? So?"

"We've been invited," Charlotte stated.

"Aw, crap."

------

A/N: I hereby claim 'I think I love you' by the Patridge Family as the official Lenny/Rodney anthem.

Why?

Because I can.

And when listening to it, for some reason, it seemed appropriate.

Ahem.

What is up with Lenny's whacked out radio? Why are they being called before the committee?

Uh...I'll figure it out...I hope. -is really good at painting herself into pickles-