Listening at Doors

by Youngest Knight

Conversation is a sticky thing, isn't it?

Title: Listening at doors

Category: Humor

Disclaimer: I swear to God (which ever ones aren't masquerading snakes) that these aren't mine, they belong to someone else, I'm just a poor poor camp counselor who only works during the summer. I'll put them back when I'm done playing in (sort of) mint condition.

A/N: This came to me in a dream, I just beefed it up during Chem lecture to keep from falling asleep. Yay! First story I've completed! One down, 4 (5?) to go!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Aw, Shit." Jenn Coates muttered as she felt warm liquid running down her lip. She pinched her nose as she closed the folder she was reading and uncurled from the chair in the reading room of the hotel. She'd been having nosebleeds because of the dry weather at the conference and it looked like her nose had decided to make its discomfort known-again. She looked down at her bloody t-shirt and sighed. She should probably go change before someone at the convention turned out to be a field medic and tried to find out where she had been shot. Once her nose had finished, she rose and headed back up to her floor. Gazing at her reflection in the closing elevator doors, she realized she still had the manila folder.

"Damn." She said, glancing at her watch. 2230. She reached out and punched a different button. "I better return this to Lt. Roberts."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bud was just heading down to the reading room with some of his notes from that day's seminars. He only wanted to look over them before the next day. Unfortunately, he didn't have eyes on the back of his head, so when he turned around, he ran smack in to Jennifer Coates, splashing his coffee all over them both.

"Jenn!" He was startled. "I'm so sorry!" Taking in her bloody upper lip and t-shirt (now liberally doused with coffee) he exclaimed, "Are you ok?"

She nodded. "I was just going to give you this back," she held up the now-dripping folder, "and then hit the sack. She looked down wryly at herself. "I guess I'm doing laundry tonight also."

Bud grimaced and unlocked the door. "Come on in, Petty Officer. The least I can do is let you get cleaned up." He looked down at his coffee-soaked shirt and pants. "Looks like so am I." Coates closed the door behind them, not realizing that it hadn't shut all the way.

Bud walked over to his bag as he gestured to the bathroom door. "Go wash your face off. Do you want a change of clothes? Or at least a shirt?"

Coates looked down at her shirt. The blood and coffee mingled together making her look like a victim in a Starbucks hold-up. Thinking of the elevator ride and the long walk back to her hotel room, she nodded. "A shirt would be appreciated, sir, but you don't have to-"

He held up a hand and cut her off. "I just spilled coffee all over it. And it looks like someone bled out on it. At least let me give you a shirt so people don't think we abuse our office workers at JAG."

She grinned. "All right sir."

He gestured towards the bathroom again. "Go wash up. I'll grab you a shirt while you do. There's an extra washcloth in there by the sink. I can't imagine why they think I need three….." After making sure she was heading there, Bud pulled out his bag and dug in it for a while. He had just finished pulling out the clothes when the door opened again.

"Sir, why don't you change in the bathroom?" A non-bloody Coates suggested. "It might be a little easier than me waiting in there for you to finish."

Bud looked down at this soaked shirt and jeans. "Yeah you're probably right." He handed her a shirt and grabbed his change of clothes off the bed. "I hope that's not too big, it's the smallest I have." The door closed behind him.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, sir." Coates called towards the door. She shook it out and held it up. A bit on the large size, but it would do. She tossed it on the bed and gingerly stripped off her soiled one, making sure to wrap the stains inside so that they wouldn't get anything else dirty. She had just picked up Bud's shirt when she heard a crash and a muffled curse from the direction of the bathroom. She paused.

"Sir, are you all right?"

"Huh?" came the muffled reply. Jen moved closer to the door and asked again.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Bud sounded a bit frustrated. "I just overbalanced myself."

She shrugged, and then realized she was standing in the middle of her superior's hotel room in her bra. And that it was cold. Quickly, she pulled the shirt in her hands over her head. She was just about to see how much could be salvaged from the soggy report when she heard more muffled cursing and struggling through the door. She paused.

"Sir, are you sure you're ok?" The struggling and cursing ceased. "Sir?" She walked back over to the door. "Sir?"

There was a sigh. "My prosthesis is stuck. Some of the coffee soaked through and I need to wash it before it gets sticky. Unfortunately, a little dripped into the cup and it's now REALLY vacuumed-sealed to my leg. Ever had to cups stick together while you're washing them because there was water in one? Think of that."

"Do you need help?" The question was out before she could stop it. She cringed. Why can't I stop myself from eating my foot all the time?

The door cracked open and Bud's right eye sheepishly peered up at her. "Could you? I was actually going to ask you if I couldn't get it off in another few seconds."

"I suppose sir; after all, I did run into you." She brushed her brown hair back and then, business-like, clapped her hands. "So, how do you want me to do this?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Mike Roberts walked down the hall to his brother's room. He and a few other midshipmen had been chosen to attend this conference as observers and extra help. He raised his hand to knock on the partially open door, and paused when he heard voices from inside.

"So how do you want to do this?" A female voice.

"Come here." That was Bud. So he did have the right room. He opened his mouth to call out to him when he paused again as he heard the next part of the conversation.

"All right, what do you want me to do?"

"Just grab it and pull."

"Ok. Ready?"

"Yeah."

"OW! Not that hard!"

"Sorry, but you told me to pull!"

"I know that! I want it off, but I don't want the rest to come with it! I happen to be very attached to it!"

"Maybe if I got a better grip………how's that?"

"Do you think you have enough leverage?"

Grunt. "Maybe not. Why don't we move this out where there's more room?"

"Might be a better idea. That way you don't keep hitting the wall. And that position can't be good on your back."

Mike blinked, his hand slowly falling back toward his side. What was going on in there? That was his brother's voice, but Bud wouldn't……..he'd never! And who was that woman anyway? She sounded familiar. Cursing the wall that was blocking his view, Mike leaned in again.

"Better?"

"Yeah. I can definitely get into a better position here. It's not as cramped. I'll have more room to dig in."

"Good."

"Eep!" Mike jumped as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He followed it up to Harm's face. "Hey Mike, is Bud in?" he gestured towards the door.

"Hi Mike!" Mac peeked around Harm's tall frame. She took a closer look at the midshipman's pale and nervous face. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ok? Did something happen?"

"Sir, Ma'am," His voice was shaky. "Buds in but…….." He trailed off.

"But?"

"Well…..it's just that….he's…well….."He motioned impotently at the door. "Listen."

As one, they leaned towards the crack between the doorframe and the door, unknown to the occupants inside who were still busily working on their dilemma.

"Maybe if you hold it like this, and I go like that…… Hey, don't push, pull, I want to get it out, not shove it in!"

"Sorry!"

Mac and Harm looked at each other. They had heard that apologetic yelp before.

"Is that?" Harm started to say.

Mac shook her head. "Can't be."

"Coates?" They both muttered incredulously. Mike turned around.

"Petty Officer Coates? From JAG?"

"Sounds like her." Mac nodded.

"But….but…..but…..That doesn't make sense!" All three exchanged a glance, and then leaned in again.

"So that's not working." Yup. It was Coates.

"No it isn't. How about you grab here and here and pull."

"mmmggrrrrungh." Now there was heavy breathing. "I think it's stuck like that." Coates sounded breathless. "Has this ever happened before?"

"Once, when little AJ spilled his apple juice on me. But that time it only took a bit of struggling and it came right out."

Harm and Mac glanced at Mike who shrugged. How should he know? They turned back to the door.

"Hm. Well, that's not working."

"I know! It's still on there!"

"I'm sorry!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

General Cresswell was looking forward to his bed. It wasn't that he didn't like dealing with his colleagues, politicking always left him with a headache. He was almost there, visions of a stress-free night dancing through his head when something caught his eye. Down a side hall were his two senior lawyers and a Midshipman-it looked like Robert's brother- clustered tightly outside the Lieutenant Commander's door. Wondering what they were doing-and remembering some old court-martials of pranks gone awry- he walked over and stood behind them, but just far enough away that they wouldn't immediately notice him. From the semi-open door, he heard voices wafting out.

"Ok, so it I just pull…" What was his yeoman doing in Robert's room?

"Just don't try to pull it off like you did last time." Last time?

"Last time I had to put some interesting torque on it because we were in a room the size of the supply closet at JAG! You pull, I pull, and maybe we can get it out."

Cresswell blinked. The supply closet at JAG? This had better stop. He stepped forward. "Ahem." And held back a grin as the three impromptu spies jumped like guilty teenagers and turned to face him.

"Is Commander Roberts in?"

Mac recovered first. "Yes sir, but-"she was cut off as he reached for the doorknob.

"Wait!" The three cried, but it was no use. The general stepped inside as a thump was heard. Mac, Harm, and Mike peeked in behind him. They couldn't have been more surprised.

"Got it!" Jenn Coates was on the floor holding Bud's prosthetic leg aloft in victory while Bud, clad only in boxers and a t-shirt was lying on his back on the bed, legs hanging over the side. Coates stood up. "Here you are sir," she said, handing a now-sitting Bud his leg. "Hope you can get it clean."

He smiled, setting it down on the bed next to him. "Me too, Jenn, thanks. I-"

"Just WHAT is going on in here?!" Cresswell roared.

"Sir!" Coates started to turn around "What are you-ah!" Thud.

Bud, realizing who was there, had reflexively snapped to attention, forgetting that he had only one leg available. He couldn't fight the force of gravity and fell, directly onto the rotating Coates. Unprepared for the sudden weight, and off balance in the middle of her turn, Coates went down on her side, Bud landing on top of her.

"oof."

"Are you ok?"

"Can you get off of me sir?" Came Coates muffled and pained voice. Bud jerked back reflexively.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He braced his hands to push himself up.

"Uh sir, that's my…..you might want to move that hand."

"Huh? Ah! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!" Bud flipped himself over on his back and then sat up as Coates stood and then gave him a hand up, letting him lean on her.

"As amusing as this is, I want to know exactly WHAT is so enthralling that I have two of my senior officers and a midshipman listening at doors, and two more of my people cavorting in a hotel room! I have never seen anything more disgraceful in my career!" He looked at Bud and Jen. "Why are you in boxer shorts, Commander, and why are you wearing his clothes petty officer?"

"Sir?"

"I'm pretty sure that you don't own a t-shirt stating your brother is a midshipman. What happened?" Silence descended on the room as his tirade finished. "Well? I'm waiting!"

A deluge of sound poured forth from five mouths. Grimacing at his growing headache, Cresswell rolled his eyes. "Quiet!" He pointed at the objects of everyone's curiosity. "You two. Explain. Roberts, sit down before you fall down again."

"Yes, sir." As Coates and Bud parted ways, they glanced at each other. Jenn took a deep breath and began.

"Sir, I had a nosebleed when I was in the reading room."

Cresswell crossed his arms. "Go on. I'm sure it gets better."

"I came up to return the paper I was reading to Commander Roberts" She pointed to the slowly disintegrating, damp remains of the folder. "He was just coming out of his room and bumped into me and spilled his coffee."

"He spilled his coffee."

"Yes sir."

Bud took over the dialogue, wanting to save Jenn from the general's wrath. "I let her come in to get cleaned up and offered her a shirt to change into because hers was pretty grubby looking." He indicated the shirt that had come undone from its neat little ball, the gore and coffee just barely visible. "She cleaned up and I went to go change in the bathroom while she changed her shirt in the main room."

"Why didn't you change while she was in the restroom?"

"I came out for the shirt and offered to let him change in the bathroom because he had coffee on his pants and shirt while I had only gotten it on my shirt." The general seemed to accept this because his glare was no longer lethal.

"While I was changing I found out that the coffee had gotten on my prosthesis and I wanted to wash it before it got sticky, so I tried to take it off, but some coffee had gotten inside and formed a seal. I couldn't get it off."

"I heard him fall over and asked him what was wrong-"

"-I told her-"

"And I offered to help him pull it off."

"THAT'S what that conversation was?" Harm burst out.

"What conversation?" Jen and Bud looked puzzled while Mike breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God, Bud. I mean, I didn't think you'd ever do it, but it still sounded like it and- well, I'm sorry I ever thought you might-"

Cresswell turned to Mike. "Midshipman, did I ask for your opinion, or for yours Commander?"

"No, sir!"

"Then be quiet!"

"Yes sir!" Satisfied, he turned back to Coates.

"And what, pray tell, happened next?"

"I couldn't get a good grip on his leg or enough leverage in the bathroom, so we moved it out here because there was more room."

"And when I came in, you had just succeeded in removing the leg?"

"Yes sir."

He turned to the rest of the crew, who were looking decidedly embarrassed and abashed. "Now, midshipman, since you are so eager to tell your side?"

"Aye sir." Mike swallowed. "I came over to say hello to Commander Roberts and found the door slightly open. I was just about to know when I heard voices. I didn't recognize the one that I heard, so I stopped to listen to make sure that I had the right room. When I heard Bud's voice, I was going to knock. But the conversation………I didn't think it could be him. And then Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb came up behind me and startled me."

Cresswell focused his attention on the two officers who were doing their best to fall through the floor. "Well?"

"We came up behind him sir, and said hi. He looked a little fluster so Mac asked if he was all right. He told us Bud was in and we went to knock, but head the conversation. It didn't sound like…..well…Bud…and then we heard Coates, and we couldn't believe it, so we didn't knock."

He crooked an eyebrow at Harm's defense. He really hoped he did better than that in court. "The conversation didn't sound like "Bud". I see. It's all so clear now. What would you say this conversation sounded like, Colonel?"

She stopped just short of visibly squirming. "It sounded……suggestive sir. Of conduct unbecoming."

The look on Coates and Roberts Sr's faces was priceless as the realized just how the conversation must have sounded to outsiders.

"You thought the commander and I were having sex!?!" Coates exclaimed.

"You thought I was having an affair with the Petty Officer?!?!" Bud yelped at the same time. They exchanged a glance.

"And you stayed to listen?!!?!?!" They screeched in perfect unison and incredulity.

"Sorry! I was just trying to figure out what was going on and what I was going to say to Harriet! 'Cuz I couldn't imagine you doing this!" Mike threw at his brother.

"Same here!" Mac and Harm chorused.

"Well, you know what?-"

Cresswell interrupted before the conversation could deteriorate anymore. "All right! All of you, stop it. Roberts, get some pants on and clean out your leg. Coates, go to bed and soak your shirt in cold water so the stains don't set. Rabb and Mackenzie, go back to whatever it was you were doing-or better yet- find something to do alone. Midshipman, help your brother and get back to your bunk. I'm going to bed. Don't let me catch you listening at doors. And Roberts, if this ever happens again, mention your prosthesis a few times instead of just saying 'it'. I don't want to see any of you together until we meet tomorrow morning for breakfast. Don't make me have to institute bed checks for the rest of our stay here." He headed towards the door. "Well, why aren't you moving?"

There was a sudden scrambling as everyone tried to get out of the room. Coates tried to not look like she was doing the walk of shame as she headed back down the hall for the elevators. Once Harm told Mattie, she'd never live this down. Mac and Harm danced for a moment as the decided which way the other was headed and then tried to take the opposite direction, hurrying around Cresswell as he strode up the hall. When he rounded the corner, He allowed himself to smile. Who knew Roberts would wear Marvin the Martian boxers?