Part IV: Hoshi
I kept thinking, 'It's not morning. It's not morning. It's not morning.'
It was morning.
Crap.
Normally, I'm a "Get up! Let's go!" morning person but after the...bikini incident, I really wanted to stay in bed. Completely covered. Possibly forever.
Not so brave today, huh, Hoshi? Okay, maybe not. Everything looks different when you've regained your mental capacities. At least it was my day off. I could stay in my quarters all day...
And if I were on a starvation kind of diet, the plan would have worked. Then I looked at the time. Hmm, maybe I could run in, grab something and run back. It's a good thing I have three brothers. I've honed that five-minute-change-and-dash skill. Five minutes and thirty seconds later I was on my way to the mess hall.
Only to discover Chef had made pancakes and there was the line from hell waiting for them.
Of course Malcolm was at the end.
The Fates were conspiring against me.
Before I could turn tail and run screaming like a madwoman from the room, another group of hungry people pushed me into place behind him.
Guess who was right in back of me.
Trip.
Double Crap.
"Hey, Hoshi!"
I repeated my mantra: 'Don't say his name. Don't say his name. Don't say his name.'
"Malcolm!"
He said his name. That's it, he's off my Christmas list.
The compact Brit in front of me stiffened for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler before turning. "Commander, Ens--" He stopped to take in my clothing.
What the hell was I wearing anyway? That was the only problem with five-minute-change-and-run. Unless you've planned out what you're wearing any combination is possible...
Like a tank top and a skirt with a slit up to my thigh...Oh my God...
Waitaminute. Why was I embarrassed? He was the one checking out my legs.
Hoshi. My name is Hoshi and my legs are not on the menu.
Perhaps snarkiness at seven a.m. is not a good idea. So I cleared my throat.
His eyes soared back up to meet mine. Yes, my eyes are up here. Good boy! The man can blush at the drop of a hat. What a rush.
Power is an awesome thing.
"Morning, Malcolm." I shifted a little to the right and showed a little more leg...then watched his eyes start to move down again before he realized what he was doing. Maybe venturing outside wasn't a bad idea after all.
"Good--ahem," Frog in your throat, Malcolm? Heh. "Morning, Hoshi."
"Fancy meeting y'all here," Trip said, eyes twitching in such a bizarre manner that I wanted to ask him when was the last time he had a checkup with Phlox.
But from the corner of my eye I could see Malcolm's cheek twitching in a similar manner. For a brief moment I considered the possibility that these strange muscle spasms were contagious.
Then it hit me. Slow of me, yes, but give me a break, it was seven in the morning! I don't process things quickly without that first cup of coffee.
I got it. It was guy talk...the talking that guys do--without actually talking.
Now, I know I did a disservice to my profession by not investigating this novel form of communication, but hello...stomach...growling...hungry. Do not stand in the way of non-grammatical Hoshi!
"Malcolm...the line," I said, pointing behind him. No, that didn't qualify as a whine, no matter how high pitched it was. Unfortunately, Malcolm and Trip were still "communicating", the former paying no attention to the progressing line or me.
"MALCOLM!" I nearly yelled, jumping in place, trying to get his attention.
Oh, I got his attention all right.
Yet another byproduct of getting dressed in five minutes.
No bra.
My God, they're just breasts, you'd think by the way he gaped at them that they were made of gold.
I think all his blood did go south because the next thing I knew, his had tray clattered to the floor.
How could I not have seen this a mile away?
I blame it on the lack of coffee.
I bent down to retrieve his tray, just as he snapped out of his stupor.
Yes, yes, our heads knocked, hands touched. Dear God, when was all this going to end?!
Apparently, never, because the next thing I knew, Trip, who had turned around to talk to Liz Cutler, started walking, or rather TRYING to walk--right over me! Did they not teach him to walk and talk and WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE GOING at the Academy?
Malcolm, recovering from the loss of blood by the evidence of his blush, looked up and yelled out a warning, "Trip!"
"Ack!" I could feel him starting to topple over me, but Liz, good old Liz, grabbed Trip back before he could fall over. Unfortunately, in a fit of deja vu, the momentum of Trip's weight caused me to fall right on top of Malcolm.
Who dropped his tray and grabbed me around the waist as we fell. I, scrambling for something to hold onto, managed to wrap one arm around his shoulders and used the other to attempt to break our descent. Full body contact from chest to hips to--Good Morning! I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something about phase pistols. It would have been bad form, considering he kept my head from hitting the floor with his lips!
You didn't seriously think we'd escape full body contact without ending up in a lip lock did you? Of course not, fate wouldn't be that kind. It was a glancing kiss, kind of a 'Happy New Year' meets 'Christmas mistletoe' kiss but more on the completely unexpected side. However, before I had a chance to either analyze it or wish for a large hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole, we bumped into the people standing in front of us.
I used to be fascinated by the falling of dominoes. I've been to domino competitions. People spend countless hours carefully setting them up to make elaborate pictures like the Mona Lisa or building skyscrapers and bridges. Hours of work and it would only take a minute to knock them all down. It's fascinating to watch.
It took ten minutes for the mess hall line to form that morning.
It took thirty seconds for everyone who'd been in front of Malcolm to fall over.
You never realize how many people are multilingual until they start swearing in every language they know. After the initial confusion everyone sat stunned. The people in line behind Trip stared at all of us in a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Breathing heavily. Malcolm and I looked at each other. I bit my lip looking for something, anything to say.
"Must have been one helluva shuttle ride yesterday." Smug sonofa--
I swore at that moment they'd never find Trip's body or the smirk on his face. I'd bury that separately. A soft growl told me Malcolm was probably thinking along the same lines. Well, his lines might just be more violent than mine. I wondered if he'd let me watch him take Trip down. An evil, mischievous look entered his eyes and before anyone could say...anything actually, he hooked a foot around one of Trip's ankles and pulled.
"AACK!" Trip lost his balance in a spectacular view of flailing limbs and curses trying to grab onto Liz for balance. He pulled too hard and took her--and consequently the back half of the line--down with him.
Maybe I'll keep Malcolm on my Christmas list.
"Good mor--" Just when I'd figured it couldn't get any worse Captain Archer walked in on his way to breakfast. You could almost hear his jaw hit the floor as he looked from one end of the line to the other. Must have been a hell of a sight, me practically lounging on Malcolm's body, his arms wrapped around me, and half the crew sitting on the floor dazed. "Do I want to know?"
We merely shook our heads.
He nodded slowly. "Okay, then." Pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring, Archer turned and walked into his dining room.
Malcolm cleared his throat.
"You know you really should see Phlox about that throat."
"Perhaps when we get off the floor."
The floor...oh yeah...full body contact...Oops.
"Don't even think about phase pistols, Hoshi."
I looked from his face down to his arms still locked about my waist. With an evil little smile I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "But, I'm not the one who's got it locked, loaded and ready to go, Malcolm."
Leaving him with that swirling in his mind and another blush I rolled off him and rose. I got my breakfast and walked out the door with a well-deserved smirk on my face.
Hoshi: 2, Malcolm: 0
Damn I'm good. Even without coffee.
*****
TBC
I kept thinking, 'It's not morning. It's not morning. It's not morning.'
It was morning.
Crap.
Normally, I'm a "Get up! Let's go!" morning person but after the...bikini incident, I really wanted to stay in bed. Completely covered. Possibly forever.
Not so brave today, huh, Hoshi? Okay, maybe not. Everything looks different when you've regained your mental capacities. At least it was my day off. I could stay in my quarters all day...
And if I were on a starvation kind of diet, the plan would have worked. Then I looked at the time. Hmm, maybe I could run in, grab something and run back. It's a good thing I have three brothers. I've honed that five-minute-change-and-dash skill. Five minutes and thirty seconds later I was on my way to the mess hall.
Only to discover Chef had made pancakes and there was the line from hell waiting for them.
Of course Malcolm was at the end.
The Fates were conspiring against me.
Before I could turn tail and run screaming like a madwoman from the room, another group of hungry people pushed me into place behind him.
Guess who was right in back of me.
Trip.
Double Crap.
"Hey, Hoshi!"
I repeated my mantra: 'Don't say his name. Don't say his name. Don't say his name.'
"Malcolm!"
He said his name. That's it, he's off my Christmas list.
The compact Brit in front of me stiffened for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler before turning. "Commander, Ens--" He stopped to take in my clothing.
What the hell was I wearing anyway? That was the only problem with five-minute-change-and-run. Unless you've planned out what you're wearing any combination is possible...
Like a tank top and a skirt with a slit up to my thigh...Oh my God...
Waitaminute. Why was I embarrassed? He was the one checking out my legs.
Hoshi. My name is Hoshi and my legs are not on the menu.
Perhaps snarkiness at seven a.m. is not a good idea. So I cleared my throat.
His eyes soared back up to meet mine. Yes, my eyes are up here. Good boy! The man can blush at the drop of a hat. What a rush.
Power is an awesome thing.
"Morning, Malcolm." I shifted a little to the right and showed a little more leg...then watched his eyes start to move down again before he realized what he was doing. Maybe venturing outside wasn't a bad idea after all.
"Good--ahem," Frog in your throat, Malcolm? Heh. "Morning, Hoshi."
"Fancy meeting y'all here," Trip said, eyes twitching in such a bizarre manner that I wanted to ask him when was the last time he had a checkup with Phlox.
But from the corner of my eye I could see Malcolm's cheek twitching in a similar manner. For a brief moment I considered the possibility that these strange muscle spasms were contagious.
Then it hit me. Slow of me, yes, but give me a break, it was seven in the morning! I don't process things quickly without that first cup of coffee.
I got it. It was guy talk...the talking that guys do--without actually talking.
Now, I know I did a disservice to my profession by not investigating this novel form of communication, but hello...stomach...growling...hungry. Do not stand in the way of non-grammatical Hoshi!
"Malcolm...the line," I said, pointing behind him. No, that didn't qualify as a whine, no matter how high pitched it was. Unfortunately, Malcolm and Trip were still "communicating", the former paying no attention to the progressing line or me.
"MALCOLM!" I nearly yelled, jumping in place, trying to get his attention.
Oh, I got his attention all right.
Yet another byproduct of getting dressed in five minutes.
No bra.
My God, they're just breasts, you'd think by the way he gaped at them that they were made of gold.
I think all his blood did go south because the next thing I knew, his had tray clattered to the floor.
How could I not have seen this a mile away?
I blame it on the lack of coffee.
I bent down to retrieve his tray, just as he snapped out of his stupor.
Yes, yes, our heads knocked, hands touched. Dear God, when was all this going to end?!
Apparently, never, because the next thing I knew, Trip, who had turned around to talk to Liz Cutler, started walking, or rather TRYING to walk--right over me! Did they not teach him to walk and talk and WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE GOING at the Academy?
Malcolm, recovering from the loss of blood by the evidence of his blush, looked up and yelled out a warning, "Trip!"
"Ack!" I could feel him starting to topple over me, but Liz, good old Liz, grabbed Trip back before he could fall over. Unfortunately, in a fit of deja vu, the momentum of Trip's weight caused me to fall right on top of Malcolm.
Who dropped his tray and grabbed me around the waist as we fell. I, scrambling for something to hold onto, managed to wrap one arm around his shoulders and used the other to attempt to break our descent. Full body contact from chest to hips to--Good Morning! I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something about phase pistols. It would have been bad form, considering he kept my head from hitting the floor with his lips!
You didn't seriously think we'd escape full body contact without ending up in a lip lock did you? Of course not, fate wouldn't be that kind. It was a glancing kiss, kind of a 'Happy New Year' meets 'Christmas mistletoe' kiss but more on the completely unexpected side. However, before I had a chance to either analyze it or wish for a large hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole, we bumped into the people standing in front of us.
I used to be fascinated by the falling of dominoes. I've been to domino competitions. People spend countless hours carefully setting them up to make elaborate pictures like the Mona Lisa or building skyscrapers and bridges. Hours of work and it would only take a minute to knock them all down. It's fascinating to watch.
It took ten minutes for the mess hall line to form that morning.
It took thirty seconds for everyone who'd been in front of Malcolm to fall over.
You never realize how many people are multilingual until they start swearing in every language they know. After the initial confusion everyone sat stunned. The people in line behind Trip stared at all of us in a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Breathing heavily. Malcolm and I looked at each other. I bit my lip looking for something, anything to say.
"Must have been one helluva shuttle ride yesterday." Smug sonofa--
I swore at that moment they'd never find Trip's body or the smirk on his face. I'd bury that separately. A soft growl told me Malcolm was probably thinking along the same lines. Well, his lines might just be more violent than mine. I wondered if he'd let me watch him take Trip down. An evil, mischievous look entered his eyes and before anyone could say...anything actually, he hooked a foot around one of Trip's ankles and pulled.
"AACK!" Trip lost his balance in a spectacular view of flailing limbs and curses trying to grab onto Liz for balance. He pulled too hard and took her--and consequently the back half of the line--down with him.
Maybe I'll keep Malcolm on my Christmas list.
"Good mor--" Just when I'd figured it couldn't get any worse Captain Archer walked in on his way to breakfast. You could almost hear his jaw hit the floor as he looked from one end of the line to the other. Must have been a hell of a sight, me practically lounging on Malcolm's body, his arms wrapped around me, and half the crew sitting on the floor dazed. "Do I want to know?"
We merely shook our heads.
He nodded slowly. "Okay, then." Pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring, Archer turned and walked into his dining room.
Malcolm cleared his throat.
"You know you really should see Phlox about that throat."
"Perhaps when we get off the floor."
The floor...oh yeah...full body contact...Oops.
"Don't even think about phase pistols, Hoshi."
I looked from his face down to his arms still locked about my waist. With an evil little smile I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "But, I'm not the one who's got it locked, loaded and ready to go, Malcolm."
Leaving him with that swirling in his mind and another blush I rolled off him and rose. I got my breakfast and walked out the door with a well-deserved smirk on my face.
Hoshi: 2, Malcolm: 0
Damn I'm good. Even without coffee.
*****
TBC