If you closed your eyes and put your fingers in your ears whilst travelling in a turbolift, going up or down, it didn't matter! Well, Lorna was pretty sure you could feel when you came to a stop and the door opened. She had tried it a few times and surprisingly got it right, figuring she had excellent powers of perception she tried it with other things. Unfortunately it didn't work with the transporter, nor the food replicator but it kind of worked with a hypospray. Although looking back, perhaps it hadn't been the best of ideas to self administer a hypospray?! Especially when afore mentioned hypospray held a strong sedative that may or may not have knocked you out for nine hours.
Humming as she went Lorna completely neglected to realise that the turbolift had in fact come to a stop and that the door had opened. The Ensign, poor Bruce Renfro, who had been waiting patiently didn't know what to do when met with the sight of Doctor Heiland, eyes squeezed shut, fingers in ears and… was she humming the Spice Girls? The turbolift carried on without him (a wise decision on the Ensign's part) until again, it stopped and the doors opened, Lorna none the wiser. This time though, it was the one and only, Doctor Leonard H. McCoy (how could it not have been), waiting to embark and with one look at Heiland, well he couldn't help but grin. She was stood to the rear of the cylindrical elevator which allowed him enough room to step in without disturbing her. When the door closed behind him and they carried on their way McCoy allowed himself the brief moment to watch her uninterrupted.
Since their 'moment' on the away mission neither one of them had mentioned or asked what had about to, possibly, probably, going to happen next. Instead, as reasonable, intelligent adults they had pretended like nothing had happened and carried on regardless. Something had changed though and the pair had been finding more and more reasons to be in one another's company.
For example, one day, they had found themselves going to lunch at the same time, and it would have been rude not to sit with one another?! On Tuesday they had both needed to visit the Quartermaster and by the time the weekend had rolled around somehow they had both ended up with the same shift pattern for the following week. Strange how these things work out?
On occasion, when in the medical bay and no one else was around, he'd speak to her in their mutually enjoyed 1930's film noir, private eye, mid-western accent…
'Now listen here see… I need those hyposprays refilled Doll, and step on it!' His facial expressions made her laugh the most.
He was about to tap her on the shoulder but Lorna, feeling that it had been too long opened her eyes. She didn't jump when she spotted McCoy, instead she grinned and slowly lowered her hands from her ears, blushing a deep crimson red.
"I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing?" She asked nervously as McCoy crossed his arms in front of him.
"Actually no, this seems entirely normal as far as you're concerned."
"You mean you don't think I'm suffering from a case of the space-crazies?" McCoy laughed out loud and shook his head.
"No I certainly do not think that!" He answered as the turbolift once again came to a stop. As the door opened Lorna told McCoy she'd see him later and started to leave. "Lorna?" He called after her.
"Yes?" Swivelling on the spot Lorna stopped and looked up at him keenly, as McCoy opened his mouth to speak the turbolift door began to close with Lorna standing over the threshold. Now she knew the thing couldn't close on her, they were designed to detect any object in the way but she still couldn't help but flinch, squeeze her eyes shut and try to throw herself away from the oncoming door. Messily turning the only thing she achieved was cracking her head against the frame before the door closed and McCoy carried on his way. Standing and staring at the closed door McCoy's jaw stayed open aghast until he reached his deck. Tapping his comm badge he opened a channel to Lorna.
"What the hell just happened Heiland? Are you alright?" Lorna, on her part was willing back the tears streaming from her eyes as a result of giving the bridge of her nose a good knock. Pinching and holding it up to the sky she responded.
"I'm okay!" She shouted nasally.
"You sure?" She certainly didn't sound okay.
"Yeah! Yeah, fine, I'm okay! Got to go!" The channel was closed from Lorna's end leaving McCoy not even knowing how what just happened, well, happened?
So it turns out that if you spill an entire beaker of blue goo (don't ask) on you in the morning at the very beginning of your shift no less, for some reason no one feels it necessary to allow you enough time to go and get changed. Furthermore, pretty much the entire Engineering function take it upon themselves to inflict injuries on one another so that they can all come in and have a jolly good laugh at your expense alongside your fellow Doctors and Nurses.
HR was definitely getting a call later!
Lorna grimaced at the feeling of the goo on her neck, her tunic had become stiff as it had dried and her overcoat didn't really do much to cover it up. She'd been busy for the past six hours dealing with the more minor injuries whilst McCoy had been in surgery.
Finally, having a moment to herself she grabbed some surgical scrubs and went to one of the private consultation rooms. Throwing her coat off she twisted and contorted her arms to reach the zip at the back of her tunic, managing to drag it down half way Lorna was losing her patience.
"Damned, stupid thing!" She mumbled as she tried to pull both her arms from the sleeves, affectively creating her own straight jacket, Lorna groaned in frustration and wriggled against the stiff material. "For the love of God and all that is holy!" Jumping up and down on the spot she hoped that the dress would just fall down, using gravity and all that? "You have got to be kidding!" Taking a deep breath she stopped moving, looking down at herself and scowling. She just needed to get one arm out, that way she could pull the zipper down further and release herself from the self-made prison. The blue goo had had the added consequence of staining her skin a marine colour, her underwear sporting the same hue. Having one, last frantic fight with the tunic Lorna audibly sobbed and stuck her bottom lip out, feeling like she wanted to cry and run home. Sliding down the wall she decided this was the moment her career ended and she was thrown off the ship for complete incompetency.
She didn't want to move, she'd resigned herself to staying like that forever, trapped in her own tunic, sitting on the floor and starving to death.
"They'd find her soon enough, just a blue stained skeleton sat on the floor with ragged material around her. People would ask what happened and they'd reply, 'She tried to take off her tunic' and people would suck on their teeth and grimace, replying 'My God, why?! Why would she endeavour to do something so dangerous?!'" Lorna groaned again quietly, her shoulders bouncing up and down as she pretended to cry.
"Do you know the way to San Jose? I've been away so long. I may go wrong and lose my way. Do you know the way to San Jose? I'm going back to find some peace of mind in San Jose…"
This was a new low she knew it, the thought of being found in such a state was enough for her to scramble back to her feet and begin trying to free herself again. With a string of curse words she managed to get one arm free, immediately feeling the benefit.
"Oh thank you!" The chime for the door rang and Lorna stopped in her tracks like a rabbit in headlights, looking to the panel she sighed when she saw that it was locked.
"Doctor Heiland?" McCoy's voice came over the intercom and Lorna's eyes went wide, scurrying over to the panel she tapped on it quickly.
"Doctor McCoy?" Her voice was so high pitched and squeaky she had to clear her throat and repeat herself.
"Are you alright?" He already knew she wasn't.
"I'm fine!" She wasn't.
"You don't sound fine?" She really didn't.
"I'm fine, really." Reaching up behind her she pulled the zip down to the bottom and ripped her other arm out, the limb smacking against the wall and making her silently scream in pain. Waving the bruised limb in the air she looked around for where she'd thrown the scrubs.
"What's going on Lorna?" McCoy's voice was filled with alarm, she sometimes wished he didn't care as much as he did.
"Nothing!" Letting the tunic fall to the floor she kicked it off her feet and flung it across the room.
"Doesn't sound like nothing, why's the door locked?" McCoy was growing concerned, anytime Lorna Heiland was left on her own meant trouble. Hearing a load of banging and shuffling only made him worry more, his hand hovered over the panel, ready to enter his override code. On the other side of the door Lorna had grabbed the white surgical top, hastily throwing her arms and head in.
"No no no no no!" Scrambling, Lorna struggled to get the thing over her head.
"I'm coming in!"
"No!" Lorna's muffled reply did nothing to abate McCoy's concerns.
"Then tell me what's going on!"
"Please, don't come in! I'm getting changed…" Being stuck in her own top and not being able to see Lorna tripped over one of the apparatus trolleys as she spoke, sending implements flying.
"That's it!" Lorna heard the swoosh of the door and froze, the feeling of absolute, unequivocal humiliation washing over her like, well like the blue goo that morning. Closing her eyes she just waited, hoping and praying for the sweet release of death. "What in the world…?" McCoy stared at Lorna, boots, blue stained underwear and surgical top stuck over her head, arms in the air Lorna.
He couldn't stop staring.
He really couldn't.
"Doctor?" The quiet, meek voice that emanated from the surgical top with legs made him snap out of it and he immediately closed the door behind him.
"What the hell did you do?" He asked, taking a tentative step closer.
"Nothing!" Lorna answered defensively, struggling again to get the top over her head.
"It doesn't look like nothing." That was it, she heard the humour in his tone of voice, groaning she gave any almighty yank with her hands. "Whoa there, let me help you." McCoy offered, feeling a sense of sympathy, mirth and bewilderment for the woman in front of him.
"No! I'm fine, I can do it!" McCoy held his hands up in surrender and watched Lorna continue to struggle.
"Lorna?" He whispered sensitively but she didn't answer. "Lorna?" He said again, smiling warmly at her even though she couldn't see.
"What?! What Leonard?!" Her masked face faced him and he slowly placed his hand on her cheek.
"Let me help you." He said again, he heard her exhale heavily and then watched as she nodded wordlessly.
"Kill me now." McCoy didn't comment but instead slipped his fingers under the hem of the top and pulled it down gently until Lorna's head popped out, her eyes closed.
"Open your eyes Lorna." McCoy said, chuckling lightly.
"No thank you, I'd rather not." Lorna answered matter of factly.
"So, you're just never going to open your eyes again?" McCoy pulled his gaze up from her bear legs.
"Nope."
"That seems a bit severe?"
"Oh I don't know, seems perfectly reasonable to me." Lorna smiled tightly but still didn't open her eyes because if she did she would have to see the look of absolute pity on his face.
"Lorna." McCoy's voice was so gentle that she couldn't help but open her eyes and when she saw that he was looking at her with anything other than pity Lorna simply shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "Are you okay?" He asked her sincerely.
"Yes, thank you." The pair stood facing one another.
"Do you think you can manage the pants?" McCoy asked, a twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah I think so." Lorna grabbed the trousers and started to pull one leg in as McCoy made his way back to the door. "Thanks again."
"Anytime." With a wave of his hand McCoy left the room, not before Lorna put her other leg in the same hole as the other and toppled over with an almighty thud!
"I'm okay!"
The End