Part XII: Malcolm
I am certifiably insane.
I'm serious! I decided they could just pack me up and cart me away, because if this morning was any indication the rest of the day was just going to go downhill.
It took me four cold showers to get the image of Hoshi plastered against me out of my mind. Then I made the mistake of picking up my dirty clothing, which I'd practically jumped out of when I got down to my quarters. My Hoshi-scented clothing sent me running back in for cold shower number five.
Is this some weird version of hell?
And if so, why didn't my father tell me about it when I started dating?
WHOA!
Bad, Malcolm, bad!! Back that shuttle pod up and park it in the docking bay.
"God? Are you there? It's me, Malcolm," I said leaning against the shower wall. "Would it be possible for the rest of today be normal?" I looked up at the ceiling.
No answer.
"I can do this. I can have a normal day." I squared my shoulders and put my hand on the shower door. Proud kickass armory office coming through!
An image I completely ruined when I peeked out the shower door like a 'fraidy, cat as if Hoshi would jump out of the shadows at any second.
I'm pathetic.
"Get a grip on yourself!" Oh, bad choice of words. Grab the damn towel and get the hell out of the bathroom before you slip and end up back in Sickbay.
"You can do this. You can go five minutes without thinking about her. You are not a randy teenager ruled by your hormones." Okay. Towel: check. Securely fastened: check. No phase pistols: check. Clothing...I looked around. Clothing...Okay, no clothing.
A quick peek out of the bathroom door revealed no slim, sexy ensigns wearing provocative clothing and no bras. One step, two, three steps and no one had fallen out of the ceiling, jumped out of the closet, or plastered themselves to my body and kissed me senseless.
While part of me was mildly disappointed, the rest of me wanted to do a victory dance.
"So far, so good." Now get your clothing back on before fate decides to screw you over again.
"Gomez to Reed."
"Ahh!" Guess that towel wasn't as securely fastened as I thought it was. Quickly, I pulled it back up and yanked a pair of boxers out of my dresser before dashing over to the comm. unit. "Yes, Em?"
"Boss! Good to hear you. Your head feeling any better?" There was a snort of laughter in the background and I heard Em make a shushing sound. "Thank you for letting us know where your mind is, Jacobs. By the way you missed a spot."
"Where?" Poor bastard. She was going to make him pay for that. It's always good to know someone's got your back.
There was a splash as something liquid hit the floor. "Right there, genius. Have fun."
"Aww, shit."
"Scrub, scrub, scrub!"
Ahh yes, it is good to have someone watching your back. I chuckled.
"Hey, I got a laugh outta my boss. I deserve an award for that. We finished moving those canisters and the guys are having fun with that lone toothbrush. Of course, we've had to replace it about a thousand times but we got some nice video footage out of it. I'll send it up later."
"You do that. Anything else I should know?" Because I'd just realized how cold the floor was, and I really wanted to get the rest of my clothes on. There was a slight pause as Em thought of what to say and alarms went off in my head.
"Oh, not really, sir. Just a chief engineering birdie twittering when he really shouldn't be."
Oh shit. Double, utter shit. "Twittering? Twittering about what exactly?"
"Well...you, a certain pretty communications ensign, the decon room..."
"Oh my God." I dashed over to my closet certain that if I didn't put something on now some horrible fate would befall me.
"And maybe a little blue gel usage. Although that hasn't been confirmed. You know, Phlox could make a mint if he ever decided to sell it as an aphrodisiac."
"Oh, bloody hell!" Actually, hell would be preferable since I'd be dying, but not of humiliation. I pulled my shirt over my head. "Haven't all of you been working? How did you find out about any of this?!"
I could almost see her crafty I-see-and-hear-all-smile. "Well, you know how it goes, Boss. Chief engineering birdies tell other little birdies who tell other birdies who then tell me so I can set up the betting pools."
"BETTING POOLS?!" They'd never find Em's body.
Needed: One new armory second-in-command. Must have several years of experience, certification in all shipboard weaponry, and most importantly must have ability to KEEP MOUTH SHUT! Betting pools prohibited.
I could put the ad in the daily announcements.
"Keep your shorts on, Boss." There was another snicker behind her and a splash of something liquid hit the floor.
"Aww dammit! I just cleaned that up, Em!"
"It just jumped out of my hands! I swear!" She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Boss. I know better than to touch a betting pool labeled 'Where will they snog next?' I'm reckless, not stupid."
Whew. I liked Em. It takes time to break in a second-in-command.
"However..."
Uh-oh.
"I did start another pool."
"Dare I ask?"
"I think you'll like this one. We're taking bets on how Trip is going to die because of this."
Now, this caught my interest. "Really?" You know, morale on this ship could use a boost. Especially mine.
"Oh yeah. Date, time of death, humiliation, mutilation, will his remains be recognizable or will we have to do a DNA scan?"
"What are you betting on?"
"Midnight with fireworks up his shorts and I know this fella who's been practicing with the transporter. I figure if he doesn't get scrambled in the beam, showing up in T'Pol's shower will at least contribute to the humiliation factor and he'll crack his head open trying to get out of there as fast as he can."
If I could get pictures of that it'd be wonderful blackmail material later on. "I'll see what I can do to accommodate you."
"Excellent, sir. Oh, and sir?"
"Yes?"
"Um...I hear the EPS conduits are nice and secluded around 1800 hours."
"Brat!" Her laughter followed me as I grabbed a few padds and escaped from my quarters to hunt down some lunch. Lunch and then I was going to hide. A level three diagnostic that had to be done in the next few days and there was no real reason I couldn't get a jump on things since I had the rest of the day off.
I wasn't going to tempt fate by lying around in my quarters.
And besides, the conduits were the last place Hoshi would be.
See, unlike Em, I *knew* she was claustrophobic.
I also knew that the mess hall would be virtually deserted around this time of day since it wasn't quite lunchtime yet. I walked in, grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water and walked right back out. No muss, no fuss, but a definite sigh of relief.
I shoved Em and her betting pools to the back of my mind and happily munched on my ham sandwich as I read over the padds. Looking up, I oriented myself and headed for the nearest hatch. I finished my lunch, disposed of the trash and climbed in.
Normal. Perfectly normal.
Maybe the day was finally looking up.
I lost track of time as I lay flat on my back and tested system after system, my only company the beeping padds and my own voice as I hummed rock tunes. The next time I got a bright idea like this, I was going to bring my music player. My stomach suddenly rumbled and I looked at it in confusion. Hadn't I just eaten? I glanced at my watch.
1800 hours.
Why did that sound familiar?
Oh yeah, Em said that the conduits were deserted around this time...
Oh, shit.
I am certifiably insane.
I'm serious! I decided they could just pack me up and cart me away, because if this morning was any indication the rest of the day was just going to go downhill.
It took me four cold showers to get the image of Hoshi plastered against me out of my mind. Then I made the mistake of picking up my dirty clothing, which I'd practically jumped out of when I got down to my quarters. My Hoshi-scented clothing sent me running back in for cold shower number five.
Is this some weird version of hell?
And if so, why didn't my father tell me about it when I started dating?
WHOA!
Bad, Malcolm, bad!! Back that shuttle pod up and park it in the docking bay.
"God? Are you there? It's me, Malcolm," I said leaning against the shower wall. "Would it be possible for the rest of today be normal?" I looked up at the ceiling.
No answer.
"I can do this. I can have a normal day." I squared my shoulders and put my hand on the shower door. Proud kickass armory office coming through!
An image I completely ruined when I peeked out the shower door like a 'fraidy, cat as if Hoshi would jump out of the shadows at any second.
I'm pathetic.
"Get a grip on yourself!" Oh, bad choice of words. Grab the damn towel and get the hell out of the bathroom before you slip and end up back in Sickbay.
"You can do this. You can go five minutes without thinking about her. You are not a randy teenager ruled by your hormones." Okay. Towel: check. Securely fastened: check. No phase pistols: check. Clothing...I looked around. Clothing...Okay, no clothing.
A quick peek out of the bathroom door revealed no slim, sexy ensigns wearing provocative clothing and no bras. One step, two, three steps and no one had fallen out of the ceiling, jumped out of the closet, or plastered themselves to my body and kissed me senseless.
While part of me was mildly disappointed, the rest of me wanted to do a victory dance.
"So far, so good." Now get your clothing back on before fate decides to screw you over again.
"Gomez to Reed."
"Ahh!" Guess that towel wasn't as securely fastened as I thought it was. Quickly, I pulled it back up and yanked a pair of boxers out of my dresser before dashing over to the comm. unit. "Yes, Em?"
"Boss! Good to hear you. Your head feeling any better?" There was a snort of laughter in the background and I heard Em make a shushing sound. "Thank you for letting us know where your mind is, Jacobs. By the way you missed a spot."
"Where?" Poor bastard. She was going to make him pay for that. It's always good to know someone's got your back.
There was a splash as something liquid hit the floor. "Right there, genius. Have fun."
"Aww, shit."
"Scrub, scrub, scrub!"
Ahh yes, it is good to have someone watching your back. I chuckled.
"Hey, I got a laugh outta my boss. I deserve an award for that. We finished moving those canisters and the guys are having fun with that lone toothbrush. Of course, we've had to replace it about a thousand times but we got some nice video footage out of it. I'll send it up later."
"You do that. Anything else I should know?" Because I'd just realized how cold the floor was, and I really wanted to get the rest of my clothes on. There was a slight pause as Em thought of what to say and alarms went off in my head.
"Oh, not really, sir. Just a chief engineering birdie twittering when he really shouldn't be."
Oh shit. Double, utter shit. "Twittering? Twittering about what exactly?"
"Well...you, a certain pretty communications ensign, the decon room..."
"Oh my God." I dashed over to my closet certain that if I didn't put something on now some horrible fate would befall me.
"And maybe a little blue gel usage. Although that hasn't been confirmed. You know, Phlox could make a mint if he ever decided to sell it as an aphrodisiac."
"Oh, bloody hell!" Actually, hell would be preferable since I'd be dying, but not of humiliation. I pulled my shirt over my head. "Haven't all of you been working? How did you find out about any of this?!"
I could almost see her crafty I-see-and-hear-all-smile. "Well, you know how it goes, Boss. Chief engineering birdies tell other little birdies who tell other birdies who then tell me so I can set up the betting pools."
"BETTING POOLS?!" They'd never find Em's body.
Needed: One new armory second-in-command. Must have several years of experience, certification in all shipboard weaponry, and most importantly must have ability to KEEP MOUTH SHUT! Betting pools prohibited.
I could put the ad in the daily announcements.
"Keep your shorts on, Boss." There was another snicker behind her and a splash of something liquid hit the floor.
"Aww dammit! I just cleaned that up, Em!"
"It just jumped out of my hands! I swear!" She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Boss. I know better than to touch a betting pool labeled 'Where will they snog next?' I'm reckless, not stupid."
Whew. I liked Em. It takes time to break in a second-in-command.
"However..."
Uh-oh.
"I did start another pool."
"Dare I ask?"
"I think you'll like this one. We're taking bets on how Trip is going to die because of this."
Now, this caught my interest. "Really?" You know, morale on this ship could use a boost. Especially mine.
"Oh yeah. Date, time of death, humiliation, mutilation, will his remains be recognizable or will we have to do a DNA scan?"
"What are you betting on?"
"Midnight with fireworks up his shorts and I know this fella who's been practicing with the transporter. I figure if he doesn't get scrambled in the beam, showing up in T'Pol's shower will at least contribute to the humiliation factor and he'll crack his head open trying to get out of there as fast as he can."
If I could get pictures of that it'd be wonderful blackmail material later on. "I'll see what I can do to accommodate you."
"Excellent, sir. Oh, and sir?"
"Yes?"
"Um...I hear the EPS conduits are nice and secluded around 1800 hours."
"Brat!" Her laughter followed me as I grabbed a few padds and escaped from my quarters to hunt down some lunch. Lunch and then I was going to hide. A level three diagnostic that had to be done in the next few days and there was no real reason I couldn't get a jump on things since I had the rest of the day off.
I wasn't going to tempt fate by lying around in my quarters.
And besides, the conduits were the last place Hoshi would be.
See, unlike Em, I *knew* she was claustrophobic.
I also knew that the mess hall would be virtually deserted around this time of day since it wasn't quite lunchtime yet. I walked in, grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water and walked right back out. No muss, no fuss, but a definite sigh of relief.
I shoved Em and her betting pools to the back of my mind and happily munched on my ham sandwich as I read over the padds. Looking up, I oriented myself and headed for the nearest hatch. I finished my lunch, disposed of the trash and climbed in.
Normal. Perfectly normal.
Maybe the day was finally looking up.
I lost track of time as I lay flat on my back and tested system after system, my only company the beeping padds and my own voice as I hummed rock tunes. The next time I got a bright idea like this, I was going to bring my music player. My stomach suddenly rumbled and I looked at it in confusion. Hadn't I just eaten? I glanced at my watch.
1800 hours.
Why did that sound familiar?
Oh yeah, Em said that the conduits were deserted around this time...
Oh, shit.