Chapter 11: So, T'Sil and Nurse Daisy got their freak on. You go, girls! And Michael Burnham and S'Vrall ... didn't? ... maybe. The point is, everything can go back to normal now, right? Wrong. An interlude.
Interlude
"Nurse Daisy?" Michael Burnham whispered quietly into the sleeping woman's ear, almost ... singing in unearthly tones. "Nurse Daisy? It's time for you to wake up!"
Nurse 'Daisy' nn'd petulantly and wrapped herself more around the hot and very solid form of her lover.
Sigh. Her lover! When was the last time she could say that to herself?
More than a decade now. Ick. She was scared, coming off shift, then changing to a very particular fuck-me dress and underthings, that there were more cobwebs than pussy down there. She wondered if her bits and pieces worked at all anymore.
They worked. Mm, hm. They did work. Nurse Daisy sighed happily at the memory, or the dream, – it was all so surreal! – but if it were a dream, she never, ever wanted to wake up again.
Ever.
"Nuuuurrsseee Daaaaaaaisy!" Michael Burnham sang.
Nurse Daisy sighed. Wait, she thought. "Why you call me that?" She tried not to breathe out as she mumbled her complaint.
Morning breath, you know?
"Isn't that your name?" Michael Burnham asked, teasing her awake by making her think! Ugh!
"It's Chris!" Nurse Daisy growled into her lover's shoulder.
She opened her eyes. Long, dark brown hair, bed-messy, exotic features, ... Vulcan ears. Heat. Heat just pouring off the Vulcan's body into every part of her that was attached to her lover.
There were lots of every parts of her so attached.
Wait. Where was she?
Nurse Daisy looked up from her Aphrodite and saw Artemis standing over her.
No, wait, ... that was Michael Burnham, the traitor. She looked back at her Aphrodite. So this meant that this was ... Lt. S'Vrall? But something seemed off. Nurse Daisy was very, very confused.
"Um, ... where ... am I? What time is it?" Everything seems so uncomfortably bright for ... whatever time it was.
Michael Burnham smiled down at her. "The latter is probably the more important question for you. It's now 07:36 hundred hours."
"Shit!" Nurse Daisy sat bolt upright, then quickly covered her exposed bits that she just unintentionally shared with Michael Burnham. She looked around the quarters. Ensign quarters: two to a room, not her own more spacious accommodations. Her more spacious and solo accommodations, that is. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she added, desperately, for good measure. "I'm gonna be late for my shift!"
She leapt from the rack, modesty forgotten. "CanIuseyourbathroom?" she said as she bolted toward the same.
She opened the door and then screamed, slamming it shut again.
"Sorry!" she said, blushing, looking absolutely terrified.
"Don't you knock?" came the angry reply from the other side.
It was a shared bathroom. Nurse Daisy just found that out.
Nurse Daisy's eyes darted around the quarters, but everywhere she looked, more material evidence of her guilt appeared: her dress crumpled by the bed, her undies, the naughtiest half hanging precariously on Michael Burnham's very neatly made-up rack, her bra tossed by the shared table.
Her daisies.
Her daisies, a 'welcoming gift' on that table.
Nurse Daisy felt more and more like an animal, trapped in a cage: wild, but nowhere to run.
Michael Burnham got a towel out of the cabinet by her rack and approached Nurse Daisy, eyes ... mostly ... averted.
"You'll want to take a hotel shower," Michael Burnham directed.
"What?" Nurse Daisy blinked, overwhelmed.
"You'll really want to take a hotel shower," Michael Burnham repeated. "For, as Lt. S'Vrall would tell you: you stink. I can smell the sex from across the room."
"Oh. m'God." Nurse Daisy's blush deepened to a darker red.
The bathroom became available, and Nurse Daisy bolted in. A panicked "Um!" was the best thing she could offer.
Michael Burnham sat on Lt. S'Vrall's bed, next to T'Sil. "Are you asleep, or just faking, you faker?" she growled angrily.
T'Sil did not respond, but her breathing, even, deep, untroubled seemed sincere enough.
Michael Burnham noticed T'Sil's face, particularly around her mouth, was glistening. It didn't look like drool, ... not her own, anyway.
Nurse Daisy had fucked T'Sil's face last night.
Michael Burnham wondered if she regretted missing that particular escapade from last night, or if she were satisfied, ... that is, permanently scarred, from the more than enough she had witnessed from Lt. S'Vrall's spying, that is 'checking in,' on them.
...
"You ... won't tell anyone? ... about last night?" Nurse Daisy asked. "I ... um ... I was scanning her then ... um ... I don't, um, ... I'm not quite sure what happened, or ..."
"Vulcans don't tell anything to anybody," Michael Burnham asserted. "The trick is to get us to open up to anyone at all."
"But, ... you're human?" Nurse Daisy said.
Michael Burnham just stared at Nurse Daisy until she looked away. "Sorry," she whispered.
Apparently, this was a sore topic for Michael Burnham, come to find for Nurse Daisy.
Michael Burnham had replicated a new nurse's uniform for Nurse Daisy as she showered and gave it to her upon reentering their quarters with only her towel and her birthday suit.
It was a full-on hotel shower.
It felt criminally good, the hot water on her skin, and it was hard to concentrate on the task at hand of cleaning herself when very foggy images from last night kept intruding upon her preoccupied mind.
She looked over at the Vulcan. Damn. Nurse Daisy had it bad. Really, really bad. U-haul-bad.
It was just a ... thing; a one-time thing. A weird mistake, or ... something. That's all. Get a grip, Chrysanthemum!
But then her heart melted in her chest.
"Is she okay?" Nurse Daisy asked in a small voice. "I didn't hurt her ... last night? Maybe I better scan her again, just to be sure?"
"Not a good idea," Michael Burnham interjected.
"Why?" Nurse Daisy's bulldog-nurse-mode kicked in.
"Your DNA is all over her, ... all ... over her. You want the tricorder to record that in your scan?"
The temperature in the room seemed to get really high for Nurse Daisy for some reason. "Um," she said. She reached down to pick up her dress by the bed, blushing.
"Don't worry about that," Michael Burnham said. "We'll get it back to your quarters today, maybe, ... or did you want to bring that to sickbay, ...?"
The blush.
The blush was actually starting to hurt Nurse Daisy's face.
"Thank you," Nurse Daisy whispered, and skurt-skurt'd toward the door, glancing at her undergarments strewn hither and yon.
"We'll clean those, too," Michael Burnham added archly.
"Um." was all that Nurse Daisy could manage, turning to the door.
"Nurse Daisy," Michael Burnham called.
"That's not my name!" she said, turning back viciously.
Michael Burnham was unaffected. "Uh, huh," she said dismissively, looking toward the vase and the 'non-regulation' undergarments that now added spritely color to their very austere quarters.
Michael Burnham looked back at Nurse Daisy. "I just want to say: ... wow!"
Nurse Daisy bridled.
"No, really: good on you." Michael Burnham smiled sadly. "Good on you."
Nurse Daisy blushed then left, weak in the knees, her whole body just tingling, and it wasn't just from the hotel shower. She joined the press of the crew, going to their daily detailed duty-stations.