"All's Fair..."
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer

Location: Est'achy Beach, Risa
Stardate: 57907.24 00h57

***

Ainsley sat on the bench looking out at the sea and marvelling at how the moon reflected off the water. Risa was beautiful at any time of day. She sighed and got to her feet. She'd been waiting for almost half an hour already and was starting to get really nervous.

She knew that she was being ridiculous. She'd written 1 A.M. in the note, for heaven's sake, but she was worried that Mason was going to stand her up. It had been 10 days since he'd told her that he would wait for her decision; maybe she had made him wait too long.

She looked down the beach and then back to the bench where the SCUBA diving gear waited for them. She'd already gotten into her own wet suit, and Mason's lay on the bench beside where she had been sitting.

"Evenin'," came the voice from behind her.

She allowed a smile to form on her lips and then she turned to look at him.

Mason stood on the sand in baggy lightweight trousers and a loose shirt. He had his shoes off and slung over one shoulder by the laces. And he was carrying a bucket.

"Ciao, Mason," he said, quoting her note. "We have some things to get settled. Meet me at Est'achy Beach at 1 AM tonight, if you dare."

He grinned. "I've always been a sucker for a dare."

"That's good," Ainsley replied, walking towards him. "But before we get on with anything else tonight, we really do have to get one thing straight."

He nodded and looked fully at her, completely understanding, giving her his full attention.

Ainsley balled her hand into a fist and hit him.

The punch caught Farrell squarely in the left eye. His head whipped to the side and he staggered, one hand clapped to his face. He stepped around for a moment, wobbling, before catching his breath. He muttered a string of words then, but completed none of them, apparently not wanting to swear in front of her. He stooped, half-cursing in clipped babble, for about thirty seconds before straightening.

"Reckon I deserved that," he nodded, wincing as he touched his hand gently to the damaged portion of his face.

"Yes you did!" Ainsley nodded emphatically. "You hurt me, Mason."

"I know," he grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Well, now we're even," she said gently. "If you can accept that" --she nodded toward the gear-- "then I would like you to come diving with me."

Mason fluttered his bashed eye and looked toward the gear. He had deserved that, and certainly didn't deserve a second chance. But he wasn't going to turn it down, either.

"Fair enough," he smiled. "Have you got a suit for me?" He set down his bucket, containing ice and a half-dozen slender bottles, and moved to pull his shirt off.

Ainsley turned away so that he could change and walked towards the bucket he had put down. "What's this?"

"I didn't know what you liked to drink, so I brought a variety," she heard him say. "A couple beers for me, and a few assorted spritzers and such for you. I took my best guess."

"I'm sure it'll be great," Ainsley responded, pulling one of the bottles out of the bucket and looking at it. "I'm surprised you didn't drop this bucket when I hit you."

She heard him laugh. "A true Texan never drops his alcohol. I've got an uncle who once fought his way clear of a brawl while holding an open beer, and didn't spill a drop."

She smiled, "No you don't." She grabbed a cherry spritzer and beer from the bucket.

"Well, the uncle's real, but he spilled the beer. He broke the bottle on somebody, as I recall."

She turned, without thinking, to hand him the beer.

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd forgotten that he was changing. Thankfully he'd already pulled his suit half way on, but even the sight of his naked back and his broad shoulders was enough to get her heart racing slightly.

She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and then noticed the scar on his back. "Is that from when you were shot?" Ainsley asked, stepping a little closer.

He looked over his shoulder quickly. "Are you peeking?" he chuckled, then finished shrugging into the suit and turned to face her. "Yeah, that's where I got shot. The medstaff had me back on my feet in about forty minutes, but I've got a nice scar. Kremer offered to fix it, but I think I'll keep it. For a while, at least. It'll remind me not to go running into raging phaser battles in the future."

He took her in while he talked. She was sensational in her thigh-length bodysuit. Every curve stood out. He hadn't really realized she had such nice breasts. Even her dancing dress hadn't accented them the way her wetsuit did. He was glad he had an excuse to look beneath her chin, as he needed to keep his head down and flex his shoulders and back to let the autofitters adjust.

Ainsley flushed a little as she felt Mason's eyes on her. She couldn't fault him at all; she had been doing the same thing to him only moments before. If she allowed herself she would love to have her eyes skim his body and take in the sight that the tight suit provided. But she wouldn't. At least not for too long. She forced her eyes up to his face and asked, "Did you want to have a drink before we went out?"

"I'll wait until after," Mason said. She was blushing. She'd caught him staring. He kept talking while he picked up his dive vest, which gave him something else to look at. "My diving skills are limited to about a half-dozen workshops in the Academy, so I'd better not do it while impaired," he finished with a grin.

"You'll be fine," she replied and placed the bottles back down into the bucket. "I'll make sure of it."

***

After a half-hour of equipment checking, they hit the water for a spectacular dive. Many of the sea's most spectacular creatures hid during daylight hours, coming out only at night. And Risa boasted a fantastic array of sea life. Colors that would have been washed out in the sun burned like neon in the beams of their dive lights. In the dark, bioluminescent creatures pulsed and faded like green and blue ghosts. The sights were amazing. Ainsley had done night diving before, of course, but it was new to Mason, and she was willing to show him around.

Ainsley was enjoying being so close to him and found herself glancing over at him often. A part of her justified her observation as a safety function. She was the experienced diver, and needed to keep an eye on her dive buddy. But, on some level, she knew she just wanted to look. At one point she found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, but she pushed that thought away by pointing out a new creature.

Mason, for his part, found the sea life impressive, but was amazed by Ainsley. He'd always considered himself a strong swimmer, but she was fantastic. Fast and lithe, she cut the water like a mermaid, could stop on a dime without undue flailing, and had a ponytail of blonde hair that fanned behind her beautifully. He wondered if he ought to try and kiss her tonight, but put the thought aside. She'd called the two of them even after that punch, but he decided he probably shouldn't press his luck.

It had been quite a punch, too, he reflected. Ainsley was turning out to be quite a spitfire. She'd be interesting to get to know, that was certain.

***

"So let me ask you a question," Mason said, opening a beer and settling into the sand. They had explored the reefs off the beach for a couple of hours, and retired to the beach to change and dry off.

"Anything," Ainsley responded, feeling very relaxed and quite sleepy. They were sitting very close to one another with their backs against a rock. Her left shoulder was almost touching Mason's right and she felt an urge to place her head against his shoulder, but refrained, taking a drink of her spritzer.

"Be careful," Mason warned mockingly. " 'Anything' is an awfully big topic spread."

Ainsley giggled. "Well I didn't say I would answer it. I just said you could ask."

"I'll play it safe this time, then," he said. "What's your middle name?"

"Ugh..." Ainsley almost groaned at the question, and looked down at her knees. "It's my great grandmother's name. It's been in our family for generations. Leonora. It means light." She'd never liked the name at all while growing up and tended to not tell many people what it was.

"That's not so bad," Mason said. "It's got a nice ring. Ainsley Leonora Chambers," he intoned, testing the syllables and their flow. "Not bad. It could be 'Sally' or something. What makes you say 'ugh' about it?"

Ainsley shrugged and looked over at him, grateful that he was being kind about it at least. "I don't know. I've never liked the name. People used to make fun of it when I was younger, it just turned me off it I guess."

"That's a shame. It's pretty," he said, and meant it.

"Thank you," she said softly. "My parents think so, too. Ok, my turn. What's your middle name?"

"Longfellow," he said, smiling before he took another drink. "He was my father's favorite poet."

"It's nice...it's different, but nice. Do you like it?" Ainsley asked.

"I do. It reminds me of him. Introspective. Thoughtful," Mason trailed off, watching the waves.

"Mind if we get a little more personal?" Ainsley asked, hoping that maybe the early morning hours and the closeness would help him to open up a little.

"More personal than our middle names?" he jibed.

"How old were you when your father died?"

He glanced sidelong at her. She was looking intently at him.

"Read my file, didja?" he smiled, but it was weary.

Ainsley nodded. "Well that, and there was also my talk with Natalia..." She trailed off then, wondering how he'd react to mention of her.

He hmm-ed, a knowing grunt. "I see," he said. He put his head down, summoning the memories again.

She watched him as she thought, looking at the set of his shoulders and the way his head hung. In a way she regretted what she had started, making him relive memories that were obviously very painful for him. But she also knew that he had to let someone in, let someone share his pain before it consumed him completely. And she was possibly the one to help him with that.

"I was twelve," he said quietly. He stared out to sea as he talked, his voice taking on the distant tone people use when talking about memories, "And I'd been doing some calf roping in the junior rodeo circuit. So my father and I were out one day riding the herd with some of the other hands, and we all decided I ought to get a little practice in, since there was a show coming up. So I'm chasing this calf to rope it down, and from out of nowhere one of the big bulls in the herd decides I'm doing something it doesn't like, and kicks out after me.

"Now I'm on a horse, and there's no way the thing could catch me, but my dad and a couple of the hands take off after the bull to herd it away. The bull went an odd direction and butted my dad's horse, my dad got thrown, and the bull was all over him before anyone could do anything about it. One of the hands finally shot the bull, but" --he stopped for a moment and studied his beer bottle-- "not before it killed my father."

"I loved my father," he said simply. "And I told myself the day we buried him that I'd never let anyone replace him. It was a childish thing to think, that I was the only one hurting, that I was the only one who'd remember him. I guess I was afraid. I was twelve years old," he gave a single forced chuckle. "I guess when you're twelve, you get afraid of stuff like that."

A minute went by. Two. Mason watched the sea. Ainsley watched Mason's profile, not wanting to say anything that would break the spell and stop him talking.

"My mother tried to move on," he said after a time. "But I was too young and too selfish to see what she was doing. She loved him, too, and was trying to replace him, but not because she wanted to forget him. She was incomplete without him. She needed someone to fill the gap. She didn't know what to do without him, so she reached out however she could."

He took another drink. His bottle was nearly empty. "She brought a lot of men home. A lot of men. Looking back, some of them really wanted to be part of her life; part of our lives. There are a lot of good men in Texas. But there are also a lot of leeches. I never saw past the leeches."

He scratched his chin absently. "I made it my purpose in life to chase those men off. I didn't think any of them deserved to take my father's place. I was a bitter little boy, and really never gave any of them a chance, I think. Looking back, there were a couple of them I probably would have done really well around. But I wasn't thinking at the time. At least, not clearly.

"I told Natalia about this because I felt like she needed to understand what her son was probably feeling. I didn't want to be just the next man his mother brought home."

She slipped her arm around his, letting her hand rest lightly on his forearm. "I'm sorry," she said softly. Having grown up with both her parents around she could never imagine what it would have been like to have lost one of them when she was 12 years old; she couldn't even imagine losing one of them now. "How do you feel about it all now?"

He opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated. "You snuck up on me again," he said, leaning his head against the boulder and sighing with a smile. "I'm going to have to start paying closer attention to the questions you ask. I stopped beating myself up years ago, though. I grew up and I realized what I had been doing, and I got over it. I just dug it back out to try and explain things to Natalia, that's all. It's a sad memory, and it makes me sad to think about it, but it's not a gaping emotional wound or anything." He took another sidelong glance at her, and smiled. "But it is nice to share it. It's nice to have someone to share with. Thank you." He became very aware of her arm twined with his. "That's nice," he said, shifting his arm to be able to lace his fingers into hers.

Ainsley smiled at him. "You're welcome," she replied, hoping that he really had put it behind him. But it was time to drop that issue. "Do you think Natalia got it? Do you think she understood what you were trying to tell her?" Ainsley knew she hadn't.

"I don't know," Mason said, his head still against the boulder, his visible eye closed. "I hope so. She'll destroy that boy if she doesn't. I haven't even met him," he chuckled, "and he already reminds me of me. Which of course makes Natalia. . . well, I'm a lot of things, but Oedipus ain't one of 'em.

"I was repulsed with myself for sleeping with her again," he said softly. "I'd rank it up there with the worst mistakes of my life, and that's saying something."

Ainsley looked at Mason. "You told me that it was something that needed to be done. She told me the same thing. To see if it had all been some crazy fantasy created by the night and by Risa. Sometimes the worst mistakes make the best lessons, if you allow them to."

She smiled to herself then. Mason seemed to be more apt to open up and talk during the night. He had done the same thing the night they'd gone dancing.

He reminded her of night diving in a way. Every time she went out she was always amazed at how some critters that were skittish in the day would let themselves be approached at night. Maybe this was a new counselling technique that she'd have to look into, she thought jokingly. Then she glanced down at where she had her arm wrapped around his and decided that Bree probably wouldn't go for her treating her patients this way.

"This is why I like you," he smiled, the eye she could see still closed. "You have all this good advice."

She shrugged slightly. "It's easy to give good advice when you're on the outside looking in."

Mason wondered again if he should try and kiss her. Was it too soon? He wondered oddly why he was even having this internal dialogue. Under ordinary circumstances he'd have already tried to kiss her. Hell, under ordinary circumstances he'd have already tried to seduce her. But there was something about Ainsley that made him very conscious of his actions. And conscious of her feelings.

Ainsley was getting tired; she wanted to just curl up in a ball and watch the waves and drift off to sleep. Without giving it much thought she snuggled a little closer to Mason and rested her head on his shoulder.

The touch was electric. Her hair brushed against his cheek. He savored the contact for a time. He'd taken her dancing, and held her in his arms for hours on the dance floor. Touching her wasn't new. Her touching him was new. And she'd volunteered this time. They weren't dancing here. She'd taken his hand, and now was snuggling in. And it felt really good.

"Ainsley?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer.

"Ainsley?" he tried again, ever so slightly louder. She couldn't possibly not have heard him.

She let out a heavy breath and settled deeper against him. She was asleep. Mason glanced at the top of her head, resting against his shoulder. He smiled and laid his own head back against the boulder. He let himself drift into a light sleep himself, trying not to move.

He drifted awake to a spectacular Risan sunrise. The sun was just beginning to peek over the ocean's horizon, turning the grey sky a fiery orange. Something resembling a dolphin leapt out of the water some distance from shore. It looked almost like it was celebrating the morning.

Mason shifted his position slightly, just enough to rouse Ainsley.

Ainsley woke up slowly at first, not wanting to leave the dream that she was having. She opened her eyes and looked at Mason with a smile. She felt contented. She tried to remember what she had been dreaming; she knew that it had been comforting and had involved Mason, but when she tried to remember anything more it simply flitted away like dreams tend to do.

"Sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd want to see this before we have to go," he nodded at the sunrise.

The colours were so brilliant that they took her breath away. They sat in silence, with their arms still entwined together and Ainsley's head still resting on his shoulder, as the sky turned from bright orange to pink and finally to the pale blue of the morning.

"Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea! / All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me," Mason recited.

"Beautiful. . ." Ainsley murmured.

"Longfellow," Mason whispered. They watched a while longer as the sun slowly lifted itself from the ocean.

In time, Mason nodded and stretched, gently disengaging his hand from hers so he could climb to his feet. He stood, shook out his legs a bit, and turned to offer her a hand up.

She reached up and took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. When she was standing in front of him she noticed his eye, the one that she had hit. She had been on his opposite side all night and she hadn't seen what it looked like. She was horrified with herself.

His eye was swollen nearly shut, the lids closing in a horizontal slit within an eruption of purple-brown that spread just across the bridge of his nose. There was a vertical line of darker color running down his temple; that had to be where his dive mask had set against it for hours. It looked awful. He grinned at her expression, which made his face look ghoulish.

"It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably looks," he chuckled.

Ainsley shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Mason! I can't believe I did that to you!" She reached her hand up and touched his cheek just below the swollen eye. "Why didn't you say anything? I can't believe it doesn't hurt a lot." She mentally cursed at herself, why had she hit him like that? It had seemed fair at the time, but now she didn't think so.

"At the time," he quipped, "the only things I would have said were vulgar. After that" --he shrugged with a smile-- "what was there to say? We were diving, and then talking. And I liked the way things were going. Whining about a black eye I deserved would have ruined it."

She looked at him in dismay for a moment. She hadn't meant to actually give him a black eye; she hadn't thought he deserved that. But then she grinned. If he wasn't too worried about it she would try not to be either. "That should give you some interesting stories to tell!"

He laughed out loud. "Yeah," he said, "I'll have to think of something extra special to tell the medstaff." He looked around the beach, then back at Ainsley.

"So," he said, his good eye twinkling. "Care to have some breakfast with a one-eyed man?"

---

"Old Habits, New Tricks"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell - Operations Officer
and Ensign Annikafiore Szerda - Nurse [NPC]

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.24, 08h03

***

Nurse Annikafiore Szerda inched her way closer to the Chief Medical Officer's office. Apparently, the previous CMO, Doctor O'Shea, had had the chair specially replicated to be more comfortable than any other chair in the 'fleet. MedTech Taylforth had insisted that it had simply been a result of a brilliant doctor's keen knowledge of ergonomics, but Szerda firmly believed that the CMO's power was what gave the chair comfort.

Doctor M'lira had been reassigned to Beta Shift and renamed the Assistant, after her tenure as Acting, Medical Chief. Starfleet Medical was insisting on the Chief Medical Officer's position being held open, but had provided no details as to who for or why. That left Ensigns Kremer and Derrell as the ranking officers in Sickbay during Alpha Shift, but Kremer was making a house call and Derrell was attending to a patient in a private examination room with the assistance of Nurse Reese.

That meant Nurse Szerda was left with the power.

Annikafiore had reported to duty with a medical tricorder holstered on her hip and a cart of standard emergency hyposprays by her side, but she handed it all off to Medical Technician Tynann Taylforth. "I'll be in my office," she told him.

She didn't even make it to the CMO's office's threshold, when the doors to Sickbay parted before her.

An Ensign in gold swaggered into sickbay, ignoring the crewmen in the hall who gaped at him. He walked to a biobed, sat himself down, and waited patiently. His left eye was swollen shut, sitting puffily within a patch of angry purple bruising.

"Good morning," the Ensign said jauntily to Szerda. "Ensign Mason Farrell. Pleased to meet you."

"Nurse Szerda. Likewise," she said with distraction in her voice as she visually examined his bruise. Catching Tynann in her peripheral vision, she held out a palm for him to hand her back the medical tricorder. As she swept the instrument over Mason's eye, and watched the tricorder's LCARS display, she asked, "I take it someone was less than pleased to meet you?"

He chuckled a warm and friendly chuckle. "Let's call it a bad fall," he said with a smile, wincing as she touched the bruise. It wasn't entirely a lie, if one looked at the term in an extremely figurative sense.

"There wasn't another Starfleet officer involved in said fall, was there?" Annikafiore asked with a wince of her own. A bruise between officers tended to bring unpleasantness with security and commanding officers. Taking a dermal regenerator from Tynann by the handgrip, she adjusted the calibration before looking up to Mason's eyes. "Or am I, and my eventual report, better off not knowing?"

"What can I say?" he smiled at her; his best smile considering the state of his face. "I'm a klutz." It still wasn't entirely a lie, but only in the most metaphoric sense. "I decided to hit the beach one last time before we left Risa, took a bum step, and went face first into a rock. It happens," he shrugged without moving his head, as Szerda was probing with the regenerator now.

Annikafiore simply made an unconvinced "Mmmm" assent, and watched the bruise's discoloration begin to fade beneath the beam of the dermal regenerator. Discontent with silently waiting for a thorough explanation, Szerda murmured, "I wouldn't say that 'klutz' has been the word on Mason Farrell going around Sickbay."

"Oh yeah?" he asked sardonically. "And what is the word on Mason Farrell going around sickbay?"

"Oh, I don't participate in such gossip," Annikafiore said demurely. With hardly a beat of breath, she continued, "But Amy Reese would say that Mason Farrell is a persuasive charmer. He would have been able to smooth-talk his way out of this." She lightly tapped his bruise, hoping it wouldn't sting as much as before, since it wasn't nearly as puffy as when he'd entered.

"Reese, eh?" He only flinched a bit. "She's pretty persuasive herself."

"Not since she entered her Perfect Relationship phase with Kit; she's a changed woman now," Annikafiore assured him facetiously. "And besides, even at her most 'persuasive' she kept her conquests in the bedroom and out of the turbolifts, corridors, mess halls and arboretums..." Szerda had been looking directly at Farrell's lessening bruise, but then made eye contact with his good eye to whimsically ask, "Did I miss anywhere?"

Farrell leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I haven't tried sickbay yet," he said softly, with a sly smile.

"And why not?" Annikafiore asked faux-indignantly, before continuing more playfully, "It's already set up with beds, lubricants and private examining rooms. Not to mention how popular the skirted uniform variant has become with all of the nurses." Szerda used her hand that wasn't holding the regenerator to delicately scratch a fake itch on her bare thigh.

"Yeah, this has become quite the dissipated flesh-pit. I'll have to come in some time when I've got both my eyes. The sights are too nice to miss." He continued to smile a devious smile, his eyes taking Szerda in. She was a looker, too, with wavy hair that probably exploded into an unruly mane when she wasn't taming it with a tight ponytail and a strong clip. Were there any unattractive people on this ship?

"There's no time like The Now. Your eye should be fine in just a few more seconds," Annikafiore informed him with a satisfied smirk.

He kept the suave look on his face, but inwardly his mind was racing. He'd started flirting without even thinking about it, and now Szerda sounded ready to let him have his way with her right now. He wondered oddly if Szerda and Reese competed in some bizarre and twisted way in this regard. Getting involved in that would be suicidal. It couldn't happen. He couldn't let it. Time to get clear.

"You're certainly an eye-opener," Mason said.

Setting aside the dermal regenerator, Szerda asked Mason, "How does it feel now?" She lightly tapped his face where the bruise had once been.

"Better," he said, patting his eye himself. It could open and close now, which was better.

With a sparkling smile, Annikafiore enthused, "Good." She leisurely leaned into Mason's personal space to breathe out, "Because that's about the best it's going to feel. Don't get me wrong. You were this close." Szerda held her index finger and thumb, only a centimetre apart, beside her face. "But then you made that 'eye-opener' clunker." Pouting, she shook her head sadly. "I thought you were supposed to be smooth."

He returned her disappointed look. "I must be losing my touch," he said with a sad smile. "Reese turned me down, too. You nurses are a tough crowd."

Szerda narrowed her eyes momentarily to skeptically ask, "Really?" She shrugged and went on, "Everyone says you leave any room Amy's in for fear she's not going to be able to restrain herself from mounting you."

Farrell shrugged, "Apparently not. It's a shame, too. I was curious to see if she was capable of some of the acts people were talking about. I guess I'll never know. Ah, Medical," he smiled wistfully, and ran the side of a finger beneath Szerda's chin. Sliding off the bed and onto his feet he touched his repaired eyelid.

"Thanks for this," he said, an obvious conversation-ender.

"I'm here to help," Annikafiore sing-songed, and handed the tricorder and regenerator off to Tynann.

His whole face working again, Farrell smiled his winning smile one last time, and was out the door and gone.

Regarding Tynann, Annikafiore pointed to the devices in Tynann's hands and remarked, "You go put those away now. I'll be in my..." She went silent when she saw Officer Derrell, who had been attending to a patient with Nurse Reese three biobeds down from Annikafiore, stride right into the Chief Medical Officer's office. Literally biting her tongue for a moment, Annikafiore took the dermal regenerator from Ty to offer, "Why don't I help you with that?"

As the pair headed off to the storage cabinets where the patient-less technicians and nurses were congregated, Annikafiore grinningly asked Tynann, "Did you see that?"

"You fixing a bruise?" Tynann asked blandly.

Nurse Szerda scoffed loudly. "That was the end of Risian Fever. Mason Farrell is just a mere mortal once again."

---

"The Price of Nice"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Amy Reese; Nurse
Ensign Kit Markham

Location: USS Sulu: Sickbay, Farrell and Markham's quarters.
Stardate: 57907.24 08h25

***

Amy gasped at the falsehoods coming from Nurse Szerda's backstabbing lips, then scrunched her eyes and lips into an expression of pure indignation. She turned her ear towards the opening of the primary biobed alcove, where she and officer Derrell were tending to Crewman Vallax after a particularly painful encounter with a hoverball, and listened intently, only to pull back and suck in another shocked breath. "Mounting him?" she hissed. "I did not!" Her ears again perked in time to hear Farrell nobly defending her honour, or at least denying Szerda the truth. She was grateful for that.

The conversation outside ended, and moments later the sickbay doors swooshed opened, then closed again at Farrell's likely departure. Raina announced to Vallax that his injuries were healed, and that was when Amy slammed down the dermal regenerator she'd been crushing in her fist and dismissed herself. Amy tossed her head back as she marched out of the alcove and her eyes narrowed to slits as she passed Szerda, who offered Amy a patronizing smile.

"Harlot," Amy muttered, then thrust her chin high and continued on directly out of sickbay. There was a debt to be repaid, and it didn't include tearing out Szerda's conniving hair just yet. That would come later, when she cornered her in a turbolift.

***

The door to his quarters closed, and Mason leaned against it for a moment, his eyes distant. His mind was corkscrewing through a wicked double-helix, and he clenched a fist as he fought for coherence. Last night with Ainsley was one of the best dates ever. Feeling her asleep against him had been marvelous, and he had wanted badly to kiss her. He had wanted badly to do more, but had stopped himself. He didn't want to ruin this thing he had with Ainsley. He couldn't put a name to it yet, but it was certainly something. She'd given him another chance last night, and he'd told himself he wouldn't hurt her again. But she was beautiful, and no matter how high and noble his thoughts tried to be, it didn't change the fact that she had the best breasts he'd checked out in a long time.

Then Szerda had come on like a supernova, and he'd been tempted. Sorely tempted. She was a sultry beauty, all pouty lips and wavy curls. He'd flirted himself into a corner without even thinking about it, and had barely gotten clear. Was there something in the water on this ship?

Water. That was what he needed, he decided, running a hand through his hair. He was tired and he was running on a high sexual charge. He desperately needed a cold shower. Calling for the shower to start, he stripped out of his shirt while kicking off his shoes. His pants were half off when the doorchime rang.

"Come in," he called, re-zipping his pants quickly. He hoped he didn't sound too frustrated.

The door slid aside and Amy Reese hesitantly strode in. "Hello? Ensign Farrell, you around?"

Farrell stepped out of the fresher, buttoning his pants. "Yep," he said absently. Then stopped. "Nurse Reese," he said, uncertain. "Uh, Markham's not here."

Amy's eyes naturally fell to Farrell's exposed chest, and she hiccupped at the sight of it. It was certainly a well-built chest, and those arms... Disoriented and confused, she looked away, back again, made a half-turn to head for the door, then faced him once more. The lures of the flesh were already proving too difficult to resist, and Amy whimpered as she realized she was trapped in an inescapable predicament. The only thing she could do was snap her eyes shut. She sighed as Farrell's chest disappeared from sight. "You should probably put a shirt on...or something," she suggested. "I mean...I'm all grateful to you right now, and you're half-clothed, and...I might get the urge to thank you in a way I probably shouldn't...."

She could hear Farrell scrabble around, and order the shower off. "Okay," he said after a few moments. "I'm decent."

One eye cracked open, then the other. She sighed with relief at the loose, casual shirt he now wore, and opened both eyes fully. "Well, that was close." Amy chuckled nervously. "I didn't come here for sex...though there should be no reason I would...." She cleared her throat and smiled apologetically. "Trying to break the ice, I guess. It's not easy thanking someone. It always comes out sounding insincere for some reason."

Farrell smiled uncertainly. "I don't understand. Are you thanking me for something?" he asked.

"Isn't that what I said?" She frowned. "I thought I told you. Though you can't be expected to know. I mean, that witch Szerda had no idea I was there either, though I doubt it would have made a difference either way." Amy narrowed her eyes upon just mention of her nurse rival. "Any opportunity to drive a laserscalpel into my back...."

"Oh," Farrell said, leaning against the wall. "Well," he grinned, "I did give you my word. Just keepin' it, is all."

Amy smiled and moved forward to put them both at a more personal distance. "You didn't have to, though," she told him. "I mean...even I've been guilty of perpetuating certain rumours..." She looked down sheepishly at her foot screwing into the floor. "See, the one about you and Lt. Druschev kissing in the turbolift was just too juicy not to touch!" Her blue eyes again glanced up at Farrell, and her smile softened. "Is there anything I can do for you in repayment?" The question was inherently suggestive coming from Amy Reese.

Farrell chuckled and looked down. "I can imagine the turbolift rumors were pretty good. I think this has been the most extreme shoreleave of my life." He looked up to find that Amy had advanced.

Her eyes held a hint of expectancy in them, and her hands came up to hesitantly settle on his chest. "You kept your promise," she whispered. "Thanks for being such a good friend." She leaned forward to close the short distance between them and pressed a kiss to his cheek that caught the corner of his lips. Amy sighed and allowed their cheeks to brush for another moment before circling her arms around him in an embrace. "Thanks," she murmured again.

"You're welcome," he whispered in her ear, returning the embrace. It was only proper to at least return a hug. Amy was in uniform, at least. No bikini this time. Farrell thanked his lucky stars for that small favor. He wondered oddly what she wore beneath her uniform, but slammed his eyes shut at the thought. He'd been holding Ainsley on the beach a matter of hours ago. And he was tempted by a hug? He needed that shower.

Getting indeed comfortable, Amy nestled her cheek to his shoulder and leaned heavily against him. He was trapped between a wall and an overtly sexual ensign. Many would relish the opportunity it presented, and Amy was certainly presenting. "It's hard, you know," she confided. "It's not my fault I have...tendencies. And it's certainly not something people should poke fun at." Her bright, heavily lashed eyes caught his peeking down at her sidelong. She smiled. "You're a very sexual man, Farrell. How do you keep them from tormenting you with all the rumours?"

She had great eyes. And a great body. It was no wonder Kit was so smitten. She had a great smile, too. Not like Ainsley's, but still nice. Ainsley. He'd just patched things up with her the hard way, and now he was holding someone else. This was wrong. If only he could make his arms let go.

"We've all got tendencies," he said softly. "We just have to deal with them appropriately, is all."

"But what's appropriately?" Amy asked with a touch of hopelessness. "I can't rip out Szerda's hair." She giggled. "Though that'd be fun.... And...and I can't exactly change who I am...but I'm trying." With her arms around Farrell, and her desires fully awakened, she realized it wasn't working. "I so suck," she whimpered. "And not in the good way...the way that gets Kit all hot and moany and stuff."

Farrell snickered. "Beware, ma'am. I've had a rough morning. I don't think I can handle much of that kind of talk. I'll have to throw you in another cold shower."

Amy grinned and playfully poked Farrell in the stomach. She noted how it was unyielding and firm beneath her touch. Her body tingled with anticipation. "And what about you, Mason Farrell?" she breathed against his cheek. "No cold showers for you?"

She was wriggling against him to poke him in the stomach. She was a very fit woman, and moved like a cat in his arms. It felt good. Too good. His arms were still in open rebellion, however.

"Actually," he said breathily. "I was just about to take one myself when you came in."

Amy chuckled huskily and found her hand idly stroking Farrell's abdomen. "There's room for two," she offered, though any humour intended failed to be expressed as her lips touched his cheek.

"Oh, Amy," he shuddered, other parts of his body now rebelling against conscious control. "Don't tempt me. We barely got clear last time."

Amy took in an unsteady breath to settle her heartbeat. It proved ineffective. "We...we probably need to just get it out of our system," she reasoned with a touch of desperation. Amy's hips pushed gently forward and her hand crushed the loose fabric of Farrell's shirt at his waist when their bodies touched. "I'm really trying," she told him breathlessly. Amy groaned as her lips grazed over his chin of their own volition. "I am," she insisted.

"Me too," Farrell said, his voice thick. He kissed her forehead absently, and closed his eyes, hoping the lack of sight would help against this proximity problem. "I need you to let go of me, Amy."

"I-If you let go of me first," she managed with the slightest of sighs. "Or better yet" --she craned her head to join their lips, but resisted-- "we let go at the same time."

"My arms won't work," Farrell grunted through clenched teeth. He could feel her breath on his face.

The door to the quarters opened and a smallish blur rushed inside. It was in the middle of setting an ornate stringed instrument on a chair when it suddenly stopped, gasped, and dropped the instrument on the floor. "Oh god," it rasped. "Oh no..."

Amy stared wide-eyed at Farrell, who seemed just as stricken. Both knew who had arrived without sparing a glance in his direction. In another moment, Amy was wriggling in Farrell's embrace, but not intent on stimulating his arousal; she was attempting a desperate escape. "Let go," she grunted, though it didn't take much effort to pull free. Amy stumbled backwards before steadying herself. She dared to look into Kit's eyes, but her gaze was forced away by the obvious pain there. She offered no explanation or apologies; she only lowered her head and awaited her punishment.

"Kit," Farrell said, his hands up in a calming gesture. "Kit, this isn't what it looks like."

Kit looked between Amy and Farrell, a dark pain shining in his eyes. He looked down at the fallen guitar and then clenched his jaw in anger. He shook his head once, spinning back toward the door. On unsteady legs, he propelled himself forward to the door.

Amy gasped and her head shot up. "Kit!" She looked helplessly and pleadingly at Farrell with tears watering her eyes. "Kit..." she managed in a choked whisper.

Kit spun around to face them both. "Is everything supposed to be fine now?" he asked. "How many times do I hear it's the last time before I'm actually supposed to believe it? How am I supposed to retain any shred of sanity if I wonder what's happening as soon as we're no longer in the same room together? What am I supposed to do here? I'm really interested to hear what this is supposed to be, to see how similar it matches what it looks like. How many times does the knife get twisted before you're through?"

Farrell rubbed a temple. The one that had just been repaired. "Okay, Kit, sit down."

Kit sneered. "No," he replied sharply. "Go to hell."

Farrell glanced at Amy, but looked back at Kit quickly. "Are you gonna listen or just be a pissant?"

"If you're actually planning on saying something, I'll listen," Kit snapped. "And, I think I have the right to be a pissant if I want to...unless you've forgotten, I walked in on you with my...my girlfriend." He crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have something to say, spit it out; otherwise, I'm leaving."

"Okay," Farrell said, his hands still out and open. If Kit hadn't rushed him by now, he wasn't going to, so maybe they'd actually be able to talk. "I was in sickbay this morning, and was asked pretty much point blank if I'd had sex with Amy. I said 'no', and Amy came over afterward to thank me for saying that. She gave me a hug, man. That's it. Nothing else happened. Nothing else was going to happen."

"Do you think I'm stupid or something?" Kit asked. "I know the difference between a 'thank you for sticking up for me' hug and a 'let me grind my hips against you and get us all wet' hug. I know what I saw, and that was more than 'thanks for coming to my side, Mason.' And, unless I'm mistaken, thank you does not generally require a person's face to be quite so close, unless you're planning on inserting those words directly in each others' mouths. So, what is it, do you really think I'm stupid or where you come from is 'thank you' generally accompanied by grinding hips?"

"Hey, truth's truth, Kit," Farrell said flatly. "You wanted to know what happened. I told you. Yeah, we were close. No, nothing happened. But you're going to think what you want no matter what I say," he finished, looking away and dropping his hands.

Kit turned to Amy. "Was it like he said? Was it no more than just saying thank you? Nothing else mixed in there? Just, Thanks for the help, you're a great pal? Nothing more?"

Amy sobbed quietly from the edge of the mattress she'd slumped down onto. She was staring at her empty hands, helpless with the knowledge that Kit, too, was slipping away. "It started out like that," she whispered. "We...we didn't even kiss. It was just a hug..." Amy sucked in a shallow breath, and exhaled it as another sob. "We were stopping.... Nothing happened."

"Why, Amy?" Kit asked. "Why aren't I enough for you? Do you want him? Would you rather have him? This is twice...and...and if I'm not...if you don't want me anymore, just say so. If you do...if you do, then why?"

"I don't know," she answered, frustrated. She threw her hands up and sprang from the bed. "I don't know! If I knew, do you think I'd be doing this! I don't want him." She gave Farrell a briefly apologetic smile. He shrugged, taking no offense. "I don't even know him. But even though I don't, he's stood up for me," she added, again regarding Kit. "He stood up for me when the others were talking rudely about me. When...when have you ever done that for me, huh?!"

Kit took a step back. "When have I ever--? Who am I supposed to defend you against, Amy? Any people who might talk rudely about you around me, your boyfriend? Should I just run around indiscriminately beating people up because they might be saying something to others, or maybe might be thinking it? What am I supposed to do, Amy? I'm just the big joke on the ship, the guy whose girlfriend is friendly with everyone, who shares a kiss and hug with everyone she sees, and more with others. I'd gladly stand up for you, Amy, but how can I? How can I stand up for you when no one says anything about you around me, and when they do, it'd be about how while I'm there, you're off with someone else. If I defended you, how much of the time would I have to lie?"

"Then why not defend yourself for once!" she shot back. "If you don't care to stick up for me, then at least do it for yourself. At least prove that you care!"

"Defend myself how, Amy? What am I supposed to do? Break up with you? Tell you not to do it again? Punch out Farrell? Is that defending myself? I'll always stick up for you, Amy, but I'm not going to turn myself into some delusional, paranoid madman to do it. I won't chase shadows over this. I can't stick up for you if I'm never in a position to do that. People know who I am, Amy; they're not stupid enough to gossip about us, or you, when I'm within earshot, and they're at least kind enough to laugh at me when I'm not around." He turned away, facing one of the walls as he collected himself. After a moment, he turned back. "Is that what this is about? You want me to get all upset and crazy because of all this? Do you want me to go around picking fights with everyone on the ship because they talk about you? You want me to defend your honour like some noble, valiant knight?" He gestured to Farrell. "Maybe if I had a body like his, but I don't. I'm short and scrawny, and if I confront people they usually react in the way that a person reacts when a little dog tries to look threatening." He took a step closer. "How can I prove that I care when you keep indicating" -- he gestured to Farrell again -- "that you don't?"

"I said I love you," she whispered. "And I do. I-I just need counselling, that's all. I love your small, scrawny body," she finished weakly.

"You're getting counselling," Kit said, the sound of defeat creeping into his voice. "But I still walked in here to find you in someone else's arms. And...and if you love my body, why do you keep going to other people for theirs? I can't keep doing this, Amy. I can't go on wondering what might be happening when my back is turned."

"Then don't," Mason said flatly.

"Coming to her defense again," Kit said. "Maybe you should just leave, Farrell. Go take a walk or something while Amy and I talk about this. At this point, you're not helping matters any with your attitude."

"Neither are you," Farrell answered, frowning. "This is ridiculous. How old are you two?"

Amy gazed at Farrell quizzically. "What do you mean? This is a very serious matter, Mason!"

"Yeah, it is," Mason said, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall again. "How long have you two known each other?"

Kit shook his head as he glared at Farrell. Then, with what could have been a cross between a growl and a snarl, he turned toward the door and started toward it. "I'll be...somewhere else."

"Computer, Override and Secure door," Farrell said. "You two both need to get over yourselves and listen for a second."

Kit spun on Farrell. "Get over yourself, Farrell," he snapped. "I'm not doing this, not with you. Now, release the door."

"No way. We've still got to share this room, and I'm not doing that like this," Farrell snapped back.

Kit moved over and picked up his guitar. "Fine, we won't do it like this. I'll find a new room. Problem solved. Now open the damn door!"

"Kit, please..." Amy interjected, "just listen. Maybe...maybe we can fix things."

"Not with him," Kit answered. "Not after that. We can fix this, Amy, but not with his help. His help is currently the problem, not to mention the fact that he lied about what was going on in here. Now open the damn door, Farrell!"

"What are you talking about?" Farrell demanded. "How have I lied?"

"One more time," Kit said. "The absolute only thing that happened in here between the two of you was just a hug? Nothing at all, whatsoever going on below the surface?"

"All that happened in here was a hug," Farrell said slowly. "That's it. Now will you please sit down?"

Kit watched Farrell for a long moment, then let out a disgusted sigh and started toward the door. "Let me out," he said.

"Kit!" Amy latched her hand onto Kit's forearm and swung him back towards her. "You don't even care that that's the truth! You've already made up your mind about me, haven't you? Just as everyone else has!" Her lips trembled with the effort involved in forcing back tears. "You think I'm a whore," she whispered. "Just like the rest of them."

"I know what I saw with my own eyes when I walked into this room," Kit answered. "And, I know that wasn't just a thank you hug. And, what hurts is that neither of you will admit it, that you just keep denying that your hips practically joined while you clung to each other with your faces nearly touching was absolutely nothing." He glanced at Farrell. "Just a head's up, most 'thanks for the boost' hugs don't come with wood. I don't think you're a whore, Amy. I think you have a problem and...and that problem is tearing us apart. I don't know what to do that will stop this from happening anymore. And, now, as soon as my back is turned I'll be petrified that you might be with someone else...especially now that I've walked in on you with someone else."

"He's not someone else," she told him, her tone pleading. "Kit...there's only you, no matter what."

"Then what was that when I walked in?" Kit asked.

"It was things getting out of hand," Farrell said, abandoning all pretense. Kit kept digging. He may as well be told what he wanted to hear. Farrell had no idea if it would help or not, but at least he wouldn't have to keep remembering which half-truth he was using. And as big a pantywaist as he thought Kit was, Kit didn't deserve to be left to sit and fume. "It was things getting out of hand. Yeah, I was just about to kiss Amy. I don't think there's a man alive that can hold a woman like Amy and not think about it. And I did. There it is. If you want somebody to be angry at, Kit, be angry at me. I should have stopped it before it started. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Kit said, his voice still carrying an edge, "sure you are. There's an old saying, though, perhaps you've heard it. 'It takes two to tango.' Now, open the damn door. I need to think. And I need to walk. And I need to get some things straight in my mind."

Amy sighed and lowered her eyes to the deck in a defeat. She nodded solemnly at Farrell to do as Kit had asked.

"Computer, Cancel Override."

The door chirped. Kit was standing in the sensor path, and it opened automatically.

Kit cast one more long, baleful look at Farrell, and then strode through the door. He glanced back once at Amy, deep pain and sorrow clear in his eyes, and then started down the corridor.

Amy remained standing and trembling without a word spoken, even as the door shut behind Kit and left her with the chilling reality that it would be for the last time. Sobbing quietly, she turned into Farrell and buried her face into his chest. "He's gone," she whispered.

"Yeah," Farrell whispered flatly. He stood there and held her, and let her cry herself out. It took a long time.

---

"Introductions"
by Lieutenant Mark Thaine, Chief Engineer
and Ensign Jackson Thompson, Engineer

Location: Main Engineering, Mark Thaine's Office
Stardate: 57907.24, 08h35

***

Thaine's office was a starting to become a mess. PADDs were scattered across one part of desk, odd pieces of the ship that had been removed and, for some reason, never put back were lying in one corner of the room. A cup of half drunk coffee (black, no sugar) sat, now cold, upon his desk next to his terminal. His duty jacket was slung across the back of the seat. It wasn't so much a mess, as just...lived in.

The Chief Engineer nodded happily. It was starting to feel like home.

This was where he lived; his quarters were just for show, occasionally for sleep, and for changing clothes.

Right now, he was reading through Ensign Thompson's file. Thaine hadn't even had a chance to meet the man since he came on board, and was supposed to be dropping by his office any minute now. Thaine noted a few cursory details; born on Earth, top of his classes at school, high flyer in the Academy...

Mark shook his head, and reached for his coffee. The file was essentially useless. It told him nothing about where the man would work best in his department, his social skills, his ability to lead or his ability to follow. This was why he hated Starfleet bureaucracy, some back home hadn't got their head screwed on right and-- His train of thought was de-railed, as he took a large mouthful of coffee.

The coffee was cold.

There was little, in Thaine's experience, that could compare to the horror of drinking cold coffee. He didn't particularly enjoy the drink to start with, it just kept him awake and it was warm, and perhaps the bittern drink was alright when it was hot, or at least warm...but cold?

Forcing himself to swallow, his face became a grimace of distaste. He swore, once or twice, and then looked up, only to find the man whose bio he had just been reading, standing in the doorway.

"Dammit," said Thaine, by way of introduction. "How long have you been there?"

"Just a moment, sir," Jackson replied, taking in his surroundings. He had yet to meet the Chief Engineer, though he'd studied the man's records on his trip to the Sulu. He was, by all accounts, an excellent engineer even if his record appeared a bit...colorful.

"Well, sit down...find a chair or something." He stood up, leaning over the desk with an offered hand. "Nice to meet you at last, Ensign."

Jackson shook the other man's hand politely and sank into the offered chair, a small smile touching his face. "It's nice to finally meet you as well, sir." He glanced briefly around the room as he spoke, "I've meant to make an appointment with you, but I've just been busying myself with trying to get to know the ship's systems." That he'd also been trying to ignore the ship's gossip he left unspoken.

"Things have been a bit hectic," Thaine conceded, leaning back in his chair. "So...what do you think of her so far?" He gestured with a hand, to indicate he meant the ship.

Jackson smiled, "She is amazing, sir." He shrugged slightly. "I can't really think of any better way to put it."

Thaine just nodded. "Glad you like her." He paused, thinking for a moment. "I've put you into power distribution, for now, on Alpha Shift, since I don't know if you've got a preference. If there's anything you'd prefer, I can probably shuffle things around...?" The Chief left the question hanging.

Jackson paused for a moment to think. Power distribution wasn't exactly the most glamorous of jobs, but it was Alpha shift... And that gave him plenty of time to observe the more senior crew and learn. After all, it wasn't like this would be his duty position forever. "Power distribution is fine with me, suh," he said, his accent thickening slightly as he fully engaged on his current line of thought. "I figure it's a good way to get familiar with the ship and learn a little about everything that is going on."

"Alright...we'll review that though, once you're a bit more settled. I suggest for now, you review the team you'll be leading..." He fished around under his desk for a PADD, and threw it gently toward the Ensign. "There you go; that should have the list of names on it. You should be able to pull their bios off the main computer, if you need any more info."

Jackson gave the PADD a cursory glance before looking back to his chief. "I'll be sure to do that, sir."

"Right then. Get to it. Once you've met your team, I'll start getting your duties up to speed. And as you might have noticed..." --he made an all-encompassing gesture with one hand-- "we've got plenty of work to do. Any questions, come see me. Anything you want to ask now?"

Jackson thought for a moment but just shook his head with a smile. "No, sir, I think I am ready to get to work." He hoped he was anyway.

"Then your dismissed, Ensign." Thaine waved a hand absently.

"Thank you, sir," Jackson nodded politely, his mind already racing as he headed towards the door. There were so many things he had to do and so little time to get started.

"Good luck," the Chief muttered, as the young ensign left his office. Time would tell if he needed it.

---

"All the King's Horses and All the King's Men . . . "
By: Ensign Ainsley Chambers; Counselor
Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Amy Reese; Nurse

Location: USS Sulu, various locations.
Stardate: 57907.24 08h52

***

She sobbed. He thought.

A number of scenarios played through his head, and he gamed them all out. Most involved a single basic thread that kept winding back into the pattern. Rumors. There was no way to predict exactly what Kit would do, but it was a good bet that he'd talk to someone, and that someone would talk to someone else, and soon Kit would be giving Farrell a black eye after catching Farrell naked in a turbolift with Amy, in flagrante delicto. That couldn't be allowed.

He should have kept his mouth shut. Instead, he told a pleasant little lie to get Szerda off of him. He should have kept his mouth shut. Instead, he wound up with Amy in his arms. He should have kept his mouth shut. Instead, Kit had hit his breaking point and abandoned the room to parts unknown. And now to fix it, he had to try and open his mouth again. Not a good sign.

He wished oddly that he were back in the Risan slums. There, he could have called up a couple of Nausicaans and had Kit snatched for a little private time. But that couldn't happen here. This had to go according to Hoyle. That made it tough, but it was possible. He needed help, though. No Nausicaans on board, but he didn't need that kind of help anyway. No, he needed a place to put Amy while he went elsewhere. She sure as hell couldn't stay here. When she calmed down there was no telling what she'd try.

At last, she gave a single great heaving sigh and settled heavily against his chest.

"Amy," Farrell said after she'd been quiet against him for a time.

She sucked in a convulsive breath, then whimpered. "Yeah?" came her muffled reply.

"We can't stay here. You need to talk to someone, and that someone can't be me."

Amy gazed up at Farrell with a puzzled, hurt expression. "You don't want to help me?" she squeaked. "Do you hate me too?"

"Nobody hates you, Amy. We just can't stay here. If you've got any prayer of even being Kit's friend after this you've got to go talk to someone right now. And we've got to get out of here before we do something Kit'll never forgive. Go get yourself cleaned up. I've got to make a call."

Amy sighed and nodded sullenly as she reluctantly pulled away. "Thanks for staying with me, Farrell," she told him with a wan smile. "You're a good friend." Holding her arms around herself, she slipped off the bed and dragged herself to the refresher.

***

Ainsley was beside Mason again. She was curled up beside him with her head on his shoulder and he had his arm snugly around her. They watched the sun rise and colour the sky again. But something wasn't quite right, there was a noise that seemed out of place. A beeping.

And it just kept beeping.

She was starting to get annoyed. Why was that noise interrupting her time with Mason?

But it just kept beeping.

She moved to look down the beach to see what the noise was... And sat up in her bed.

She looked around in confusion for a moment. This wasn't right, she knew that she had just been somewhere else. The comm beeped at her again and she realized what it was that had woken her. She stumbled out of bed, towards the comm, the annoyance that she'd been feeling in her dream coming back full force. She'd just gotten to sleep less then 45 minutes before and was very tired.

She jabbed at the on button and said, "Hello?" a little more snippy then she had meant to.

"Ainsley, you're in. Good," Mason exhaled. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. "I need you to talk to someone. I know it's early, and we're both dog tired, but this'll get worse the longer it waits. Can I bring someone over?"

"Mason..." she responded in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"Farrell?" came the recognizably female voice in the background. "There aren't any towels in here. I need something to dry off with."

Ainsley blinked, and her mouth opened like she was going to say something but then she closed it again. She looked at his face on the screen, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Mason?" His name was laced with all the questions that ran through her mind.

He looked toward the refresher. Then he looked back, with a grimace. "That's not what it sounds like. Amy and Kit just had the 'Big Fight'; he stormed out and she's washing her face. She needs someone to talk to, and counseling's not on walk-in visits anymore. Please help me out here."

Amy! Ainsley's mind screamed at her. She knew all about Amy's problem, she'd counseled her through some of it. And now she was alone with Mason in his room? She wanted to beg him to just run out of there, to get as far away from Amy as he could, but that would be completely unfair of her. She liked Amy, and she knew that the girl needed help.

She nodded at Mason. "Bring her over."

"Farrell," Amy called out again. "I'm dripping everywhere."

Farrell winced again. "We'll be right over." He terminated the connection, and got up to replicate a towel.

He tossed it at Amy, who was stooped over the sink trying not to drip on her uniform. It hit her in the back of the head and draped over her like a caftan.

"Thanks," she said, then reached up to pull it down. "Where are we going anyway?"

***

"Mornin'," Mason said sheepishly when Ainsley opened the door. Amy looked ready to bolt.

Ainsley had gotten into some sweat pants and a t-shirt after getting off the comm with Mason, and she had pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail. She noticed that he was still wearing what he'd had on when he dropped her off at her quarters a couple hours before. "Morning usually infers some sort of sleep period..." she replied with a bit of a grin. "Come on in."

"Really...no need to trouble yourself," Amy stammered, casually backing away from the door. "Sorry to have pulled you out of bed. Farrell got a little carried away." She shot a narrowed gaze in his direction.

Farrell looked unimpressed and gestured Amy into the room.

"Amy," Ainsley said. "You know I always have time for you. Come in please."

Amy sighed and sullenly trudged forward with head hung low. "I don't know what this is all about," she muttered.

Ainsley stepped back and allowed Amy to enter the quarters, and then looked at Mason expectantly.

"I'm sorry about this," Mason said quietly. "I need to find Kit and make sure he's not jumping out an airlock or something. You okay here?"

"Kit?" Amy swung back around towards Farrell, her eyes fearful and still suffused red from weeping. "You're not going to do anything to him, are you? I-I should probably come with you."

"No, I'm not going to do anything to him. I deserve to have him do something to me," Farrell said ruefully. "I just want to make sure he's alright."

"You'll stay here with me..." Ainsley said to Amy. "You need to have a little breather and a long talk with someone before you see Kit again or you can kiss that relationship goodbye."

Amy groaned and buried her face into her hands. Whimpering pathetically, she blindly made her way towards the couches.

"So you're ok here?" Mason asked again.

"Sure," she responded with a nod. "What happened?"

"I had complimented Amy in sickbay this morning" --Mason indicated his repaired eye-- "and Amy came over to the quarters to thank me for it. She was giving me a hug when Kit walked in, and his head flew off. I don't know where he is or what he's doing now, but I feel like I need to see if he's alright."

Ainsley nodded. "Ok. I know a little about their history together, I'll see what I can do on this end." She touched his arm gently. "I'm glad your eye is better. After you check on Kit, go get some sleep ok?"

"You're a lifesaver, Ainsley," he said gratefully. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, and turned to stride down the corridor.

She watched him walk with a silly smile on her face.

He got a few steps away before he realized what he'd done. He stopped and half-turned to face Ainsley again. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and then he made a vague gesture down the corridor.

"I," he said haltingly, "I'm gonna go find Kit."

"Ok, go. I'll see you later." He turned and she watched him walk away until he rounded a corner. Then she turned back to Amy.

She shrank away from Ainsley slightly, noticing the moment she'd shared with Farrell, and wondering if she would soon turn into the jealous girlfriend. "I really just went there to give him a hug. Honest!"

Ainsley smiled. "That's what Mason said too," she responded. "Come and sit on the couch. To be honest, the problem is not anything to do with you and Mason. The problem is your relationship with Kit."

She indicated the couch. "Mind if I grab a coffee? Do you want anything?"

Amy sighed and shook her head. "I just feel so horrible I don't think I could eat or drink anything." On the couch, she leaned her elbows onto her knees and propped up her chin with both fisted hands. She sobbed gently. "Nothing's working.... We were doing so well too and I had to go and screw it up!"

Ainsley got herself a coffee and sat across from Amy. "Well...what happened?"

"Farrell already told you," Amy explained. "I went to thank him for sticking up for me...and I might have taken it sorta...too far...almost." A pained expression crossed her features and Amy whispered, "I'm really sorry, Ainsley."

Ainsley looked at her for a moment. Too far? she thought. Almost? Her worst fears, the ones that she had thought about the minute he had told her who it was that was calling for a towel, had they already come true? She didn't know what to say for a moment, then she decided that she had to act like this was anyone but Mason she was talking about. Anything else she would have to deal with later. "Why would you do that, Amy?"

"But I didn't know I was doing it!" she insisted. "And it was just a hug.... I-I was stopping-- We were stopping!"

Ainsley closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. We!

"Amy, that's not enough of an excuse! Not if you want to keep Kit." She opened her eyes and looked at the other woman again. Her words were harsh but her tone was gentle. "You're a grown woman. If you want to keep any sort of relationship going, especially with the man that you claim you love, then you'll have to take more responsibility for your actions." She got up and moved over to the couch beside Amy. She took the girl's hand in her own and said, "It's hard, I can understand that. But you have a choice and you have to make it. You can't throw yourself at every man that responds to your advances, not if you want Kit."

Amy sighed despondently and whimpered as her head fell upon Ainsley's shoulder. "I try," she said quietly. "And I thought I had decided I only wanted Kit... But...but what if I'm incapable of commitment? What if I'm eternally screwed up!"

Ainsley put her arm around her. "No one is incapable of anything," she responded. "It's all about pay off. You're getting something from this, something that you like. What is it, Amy? Is it that you like playing havoc with Kit's emotions? Is it that you like the control that you feel from it?" She asked again, "What is it Amy? Once you figure that out it'll be a lot easier."

"I don't know what it is," she complained. "I don't like hurting Kit. I don't feel...control. I just...it feels good, that's all. And...I dunno...maybe I just like the attention."

"Attention from whom?" Ainsley asked. "From Kit? From the crew when they talk about you? From the guys?"

Amy sighed, exasperated. "From anyone!" she exclaimed. Pulling away roughly from Ainsley, Amy wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her knees in towards her chest. It was the most protective position she could find. "What do you think the crazy hair's for? Why do you think I do anything!"

"Why do you need the attention?" she asked.

"I don't know!" Amy hollered back irritably. "Can you just...stop doing that? Stop trying to analyze me." She curled in on herself tighter and looked away from Ainsley in time to hide fresh tears. "I don't know," she whispered defeatedly. "I just...it makes me feel better, that's all."

Ainsley leaned back against the couch and just watched Amy for a few moments. "Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself, Amy?" she asked quietly.

Amy turned her head slowly towards Ainsley, while her eyes narrowed to slits. "Screw you," she spat. "I bet you had it all, didn't you, Counselor Chambers? A privileged life, traveling all over Earth, the galaxy, with parents who gave you everything you asked for, yet still had time to go to their precious girl's graduation, or give her a standing ovation when she gave her valedictorian address to her entire class." Amy leaned forward, her features dark and tortured. "You had it all, I bet, so don't you dare judge me. You've got no right."

"Do you have the right to mess everyone else's lives up just so you can get your kicks?" Ainsley asked calmly.

"You think I do this on purpose?" Amy spat. She leapt off the couch to tower above the still seated Ainsley. "You think I'm some vindictive bitch who does this for some sick pleasure? Go to hell!"

"Sit down, Amy," she replied firmly.

She raised her chin defiantly and folded her arms tightly over her chest. "No," she answered stubbornly. "I'm not gonna sit there and be insulted by some spoiled princess like you!"

"I'm sorry that you think I am insulting you, Amy," Ainsley replied softly. "I like you, Amy, I really do. I have since we first met. But I can't keep telling you that it's ok, that you just have a problem. That's not doing anyone any good, least of all you. You have to take responsibility for your life. You have a problem, take care of it."

Amy's anger defused and she sank down onto the sofa again with a whimpering sigh. "I have a problem," she repeated lethargically. "And...and I don't know what to do. I should just...forget it." She sucked in a staggering breath and let her head fall upon Ainsley's shoulder once more. "I have to let Kit go, don't I?" she whispered.

Ainsley shook her head then. "I don't think that's the answer," she responded. "You love Kit and Kit loves you. You can make it work, it's just going to take a lot of hard work. I'll be here for you if you need me to be. Whenever you need me to be."

"Need you for what?" she asked with a wry chuckle. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing!"

"You need to be thinking before you touch. You need to be staying away from situations where you know you might be tempted," Ainsley answered. "Instead of going to a man's quarters to thank him for something he did for you, you need to send him a note, or possibly wait until you see him in a public place. It obviously might be a little impersonal, but for the moment you don't want to be getting too personal with anyone except Kit."

"Well, I can't do that for the rest of my life," Amy pointed out. "I'm going to need to be alone with a man sometime in my life. I need to know how to deal with that!"

"Not right now you don't have to," Ainsley replied. "Repetition breeds familiarity. You need to distance yourself from the activity and the temptation for awhile, and then the urges and need should subside."

"Should?" Amy snorted. "That's not so comforting, Counsellor. But...but I'll try. A-And Kit? What do I do?"

"Trying is all you can do at this point. I'm here for you, any time. If you need to talk, if you need to get out of something, call me!" She sighed then. "Now with Kit, I don't know. You need to talk to him, you need to apologize profusely, you need to explain to him that things are going to change. It's up to him really."

Amy nodded solemnly. "I-I think I'll give him some time to cool off. He really, really hates me right now, Ainsley. I think I've screwed things up for good." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders listlessly. "I guess we'll just have to see..."

"I think it's a good idea to let him cool off," Ainsley responded. "I don't think he really hates you, but it depends on how much he can take."

"Hopefully it's a lot," she muttered. Amy smiled at Ainsley wanly and said, "Thanks. And...sorry for freaking out. I just...I'm scared, you know?"

Ainsley nodded, wondering again about Mason and the truth about tonight. "I know."

---

"Don't Yell At Me, I'm New!"
By: Lt. Xayella Tagiesh
Ensign Vincent Chan

Location: Sulu Science Lab 3
Stardate: 57907.24, 09h00

***

In her absence, the entire science department seemed to have gone to the pits. First, someone had reorganized all the samples stored in the labs - without her permission, of course - then she had Saavar parading about as if he was chief, and finally she had more young, inexperienced dolts who would only get in her way. Xayella Tagliesh sighed upon sighting just one of those officers sitting at a station and looking quite lost in her mind. She hoped he wasn't accidentally deleting pertinent files. Just in case, she marched over to the man and tapped him briskly, yet firmly on the shoulder. "Hey...you," she snapped. "What are you doing here?"

Vincent spun around from his work as he heard the rough, strange voice. He'd been working on a rather difficult problem with lots of numbers that needed matching up. The interruption irritated him. He spun around, stood up to his full height and retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm deleting all the files from the ship's computer, what does it look like I'm doing?"

Vincent then looked down at the woman's collar. The minute he noticed the two pips, his face went a deep red. "Uh, sorry, sir...I mean, ma'am! Ma'am!" he stuttered out, the words barely coherent in his nervous state. "I'm just analysing the data collected from the supernova star system we passed recently. I've found some anomalies," Vincent said, gesturing to the screen. He was determined to do anything to get the lieutenant's furious gaze off of him.

"Is that how you address your fellow officers, Ensign?" Xayella asked with clear disdain. "And sit down; I hate having to crane my neck when speaking with another, and it's pointless at any rate because you won't be intimidating me, Ensign."

Vincent did as he was told. He promptly took a seat. "Sorry, ma'am. I just got on board, I probably haven't fully grasped all the intricacies and etiquette yet," Vincent said, deciding to take all blame unto himself. Vincent had not had much experience in dealing with senior officers but decided it would be better with this lieutenant if he made it seem as if everything she said was right and he was entirely in the wrong, no matter what the truth. He looked up at her and gave her a small smile, hoping she wasn't humorless.

Xayella lifted one eyebrow and scanned the length of the ensign's seated form with a condescending half-smile. "Obviously you haven't served on-board a vessel of this caliber before. Officers on the Sulu are expected to practice a certain civility and sophistication when addressing another. But I suppose you'll learn that in time." She chuckled wryly. "A long time..." she added under breath. "Now," she continued while slipping up beside the ensign and tapping at his console to gloss over his work, "what have you got here?"

Vincent looked back towards the screen. He had isolated a series of readings being given off by a nearby supernova star. The anomalies were small, and no one was likely to have seen them. "These readings here are irregular. Notice these spikes in the heat being released," he said, gesturing down at the graphs before him. "These readings here, that peak every hour, show that the star's core temperature rises by over thirty-thousand Kelvins. Statistically, the likelihood of something like this happening is one in thirty-three point four billion," Vincent said, sounding a lot like a Vulcan. Again he gave her a sheepish smile, trying desperately to break the ice.

Xayella nodded thoughtfully at his observations. "And what do you hypothesize these extraordinarily large temperatures are related to? Could there have been an inordinately dense arrangement of iron within the core, thereby increasing the heat produced?"

"Well, yes, Lieutenant, it could be that... Or the star could be unnaturally dense in dilithium content. I've seen the effects of burning dilithium under a hydrogen flame at Batelle," Vincent said, thinking back to his old post-graduate days. "Usually the particles turn to gas immediately, but on one occasion the matter remained solid and burning hot." Vincent paused. It suddenly struck him, "The potential energy in that piece of burning dilithium could be enormous."

"If that's even the case here," Xayella said. "We can't be certain unless we launch a probe to retrieve a sample, but I doubt any of our equipment would survive that heat. Keep monitoring, though. Something substantial might turn up."

"Yes, ma'am," Vincent replied. "By the way, I'm Ensign Chan, Lieutenant. I don't think I've had the honor of making your acquaintance yet." Vincent was dishing out the charm, but it looked like the lieutenant wasn't interested. He offered his hand.

She regarded it with disinterest and slight distaste. Overcoming her impolite tendencies, Xayella reached out to accept.

Suddenly the screen in front beeped. Vincent dropped his hand and immediately sought the problem. It was evident what the problem was. The temperature reading of the star had flared to well over a million Kelvins before disappearing from the map. Vincent pulled up a small viewscreen. "It appears that the star is currently dead, Lieutenant." Vincent couldn't help but feel frustrated at how much like a Vulcan he sounded. He did not need this. "Show's over I guess."

She sighed and managed her most unsuccessful sympathetic smile. "Well...at least you got some good readings. If it's any consolation, it left behind some stellar matter to analyze. And if you think it pertinent, we can always launch a probe and take a core sample."

All of sudden this lieutenant was asking Vincent for advice. This thrilled him. She was asking whether he thought it was a good idea to launch a probe to take core samples. Judging by the woman's character, this was as close as Vincent was going to get to any form of praise. He considered the issue carefully.

"I don't think a probe will be necessary. We don't want to waste resources on pointless pursuits. Besides it's highly unlikely we'll run into anything like that again," Vincent said. "The rest of the stuff out there is rubbish. We don't need it. Let's just forget about the whole thing and go back to feeling privileged that we just saw one of the rarest forms of stellar phenomena out there," Vincent said, giving her a smile. "Quite frankly, I don't give a damn now."

"Well, that's certainly the right attitude for a scientist," she remarked sourly. Xay frowned at the ensign. "Carry on with doing absolutely nothing, Ensign. It appears that's what you're best at." She finished the statement with a scowl, then strode back the way she'd come.

Staring at the lieutenant's back Vincent couldn't help but think of how bitter the woman was. She seemed to be angry at everything. He had tried his best to be friendly and casual, but he thought even if he got down on his knees and started kissing her feet, she would still be an angry, angry woman. As to the comment about doing nothing...he shrugged it off. He was casual, not slack, and someday the lieutenant would realise that, but for now she could do whatever she wanted and he would not care, even if she was the head of science.

Vincent decided to take the lieutenant's advice and actually do nothing. He sat back into his chair, resting his feet on his console. What he was doing before wasn't nothing. This was doing nothing.

---

". . . Couldn't Get Kit and Amy Together Again"
By: Ensign Mason Farrell; Operations Officer
Ensign Kit Markham; Flight Control Officer

Location: USS Sulu, Deck Four
Stardate: 57907.24 09h13

***

Farrell jogged down the corridor. Alpha shift was in full swing, and most everyone was either hard at work or sleeping off the dregs of shore leave, which was excellent. The computer had pegged Markham as being down here.

"Kit!" Farrell called down the corridor, seeing the shock of blue hair atop the small frame.

Kit Markham glanced back at the voice calling to him, confirmed that it was who he thought, and continued on the way he was headed without slowing down.

"Kit, dammit," Farrell said, catching up. "Kit, we've got to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," Kit said. "I thought you were trying to help me...and then that? And you lied about it. Nothing to say to you, Farrell."

"Fine. I lied. There. Now will you let me tell you why?" Farrell looked around. Phaser maintenance. That looked promising. "Let's get out of the corridor. In here."

"Fine," Kit said, moved to where Farrell indicated and scowled at him. "Okay, explain."

Farrell took a last glance out into the corridor and let the door close. "Alright. Before I get into anything, let me lay out exactly what happened one more time so we're both on the same page. Earlier this morning, in sickbay, I told a nurse that was gossiping that Amy had turned me down for sex. I figured it was the least I could do, since I'd told her I wouldn't tell anyone about our encounter, and I wanted to protect both of you."

Kit sighed. "Alright."

"So I didn't think anything of it, and went back to the quarters to shower and get some sleep. Amy showed up. Apparently she'd overheard, and she wanted to thank me. Now I know you asked me to leave if she showed up, and I remembered that. But the fact is, she wanted to thank me, and gave me a hug."

Farrell clearly didn't want to continue, but did anyway. "It got out of hand. I'll admit it. And I'll admit I should have stopped it. I didn't, and I'm sorry.

"It was the truth when I said that all that happened was a hug. That's all that did happen. Amy was also telling the truth when she said we were stopping. We were. We'd just agreed that we needed to let go of each other when you walked in.

"That said, I'll also admit that I really wanted more. So did she. You know her. She's turned on the charm with you countless times, I'm sure. Yeah, I was hugging her. Yeah, I really wanted to kiss her. But I wasn't going to, man. And that's the honest truth."

"Fine," Kit answered. "I suppose everything's supposed to be perfectly fine now, hm? I suppose everything can just go back to how it was because you came and told me what really was happening. You and Amy both really wanted more, but you didn't so everything's fine? The problem is the want, and that's where it hurts. Anything else?"

"You did the right thing in there, man," Farrell said.

Kit gaped at Farrell and finally shook his head. "I really hope you're done, because I'm leaving now."

"To do what, Kit?" Farrell asked. "You and Amy aren't going to work out. Accept it."

"What happens between Amy and I is our business, not yours. You have your own life, live it and leave my life alone. I've already requested a change of quarters, and I'd really prefer that you stay the hell away from me. I don't like you and I don't want anything to do with you." With that, he pushed his way to the door, and slapped the release button.

"That's right, Kit. Keep runnin'. Don't ever face it. Don't ever yell at the dog again. No matter how untrainable it may be."

Kit turned in the doorway. "Live your own life, Farrell, and stay the hell out of mine, alright? I'll deal with my problems in my own way, and I really don't need you trying to tell me how to do it. Now, back the hell off and deal with yourself." With that, he left.

Farrell watched him go, running the scenarios again. He should have kept his mouth shut.

---

"Seeing Spots"
By: Lt. (jg) Arthas Hex - Deputy Chief of Security
Crewman Emma Summers - Medical Technician

Location: Sickbay, USS Sulu
Stardate: 57907.24, 20h00

***

Emma Summers walked across sickbay with a medical tricorder. She had finished packing one hundred and sixteen hypo-spray units of medication for storage against a medical emergency. She had a long list of mundane activities planned for the rest of her shift on Beta. Being a medical technician left her with all the dull jobs - leaving the medical officers and some of the higher grade nurses to do the 'important' work. Like seeing patients.

It was a break in the shift and the doctor, Lieutenant M'lira had gone for a bite to eat, leaving a trainee nurse and Emma to watch the place. The other Medical Officer, Yochorov was making a house call on a crewman confined to the Brig for coming on duty under the influence after a late return from Risa. Ensign Annikafiore Szerda and Ensign Saffron Pakarinen, both nurses who thought that they were above the baser tasks of medical were sitting in the CMO's office discussing case files. Emma knew they were gossiping. The two nurses liked to talk about everyone and Emma had found them insufferable but a good source of crew rumour. The latest gossip involved an Operations officer named Mason Farrell - apparently he was on a single-man crusade to bed every woman on board, and by the sound of it both nurses wanted to be next in line! It was disgusting!

If there was an emergency the EMH was on-line, but for some reason no one wanted to access him. Apparently he was a whining rendition of a nurse that used to be on the ship and an engineer or ops officer, she couldn't remember which, had messed with his program causing all manner of hassle.

Emma walked over to the row of empty bio-beds and made sure they were neat. She was checking a tray of instruments when the doors to main sickbay swished open. A tall Trill officer stood in the doorway. Dark hair and blue eyes, slightly receding hairline and spots that dotted his forehead and neck. He was the Deputy Chief of Security. Emma had familiarized herself with his psyche profile the previous night, as he was Benedict's second in command.

Arie Nokomis turned to Emma and smiled. The cadet rolled her eyes as she walked toward Emma, with Hex still behind her. Apparently the cadet found the tall Trill handsome. Emma didn't think much of him - he was an alien with a slug in his guts. It was nauseating just thinking about it. Emma put a charming smile on her face as she turned to the man who strode across sickbay as if he owned the place.

Emma was in class A uniform; for the first time she had chosen the skirt that barely made it to her thighs. The knee boots showed off her legs perfectly. Her shoulder length hair was loose, curled inward and straight. Her grey eyes regarded Arthas Hex as he approached, the smile looking totally genuine. "Lieutenant Hex," she said before he'd introduced himself. "What can I do for you?" Emma's voice was pure silk. Arthas was a man that she needed to get to know. She looked up at him and looked him straight in the eyes.

Arthas smiled back at the nurse. He found it amusing that the technician still managed to look intoxicating given the choice of uniform she had to choose from. Arthas resisted the temptation to say 'Isn't that a coincidence we have the same name' but this was not leisure time, he was attending for a check-up after his scare with his symbiont. He felt fine now, but it was a necessity that he must have this check-up, one now and another in a week if nothing was found. Well, he thought, if I have to be here, at least I have someone nice to look at.

"Good Afternoon, Crewman Summers, isn't it?" Arthas hoped he had gotten the right name.

Emma raised a brow at his recognition of her name. She was a pleb in the scheme of things on the Sulu - a lowly crewman, but the Deputy Chief of Security knew her name and face. That impressed her. She gave him a smile, all the while thinking why this man had checked up on her. It roused her suspicion, until she caught him glancing at her legs. Then she imagined the man glaring at every pretty face in his files. "Yeah, Summers - Emma," she replied, keeping her voice on the sunny side and purposely looking him over herself. He was tall, and handsome for an alien. She stopped her eyes when they met his.

"I'm not sure if you have read my file, but I had an incident concerning my symbiont's safety and my own, and I have to come for a check-up," Arthas replied.

Emma shook her head. "No, I haven't," she lied. She was looking into his eyes directly and said, "One of the nurses pointed you out in the mess hall." She gave him the benefit of a shy smile, though she seemed anything but. "Do you need a doctor? or is it just for a tricorder scan?" She looked over at Arie who was hiding her face and looking busy, obviously trying hard to suppress a giggling fit at Emma's flirting. "If it's just for a scan, then I'm sure I can handle it...."

Arthas smiled. "Well, I'm not sure, how about a full physical? If you're performing it, then there is no hope that any side-effect will escape your notice," he flirted back.

"Oh...a full physical?" Emma rolled her eyes at the tall Trill. "You need a doctor for that - I can get Doctor McGraw - I'm sure he can assist you in finding any side effects...." She put her hands on her hips and looked over at Arie who was now unashamedly watching. "You think he needs a full physical, Arie?"

Arie Nokomis giggled. She put a hand over her mouth to hide her mirth and shook her head, "No..." She giggled some more.

"No.." Emma took up her tricorder from her belt and pointed to a bio-bed. "Over there - and no need to remove the uniform, Lieutenant. I know the spots go all the way down already." She activated the tricorder and removed the medical probe. As he sat down on the bed she pushed him onto his back. "Stay...spot...stay...." She gave him a cheeky smile.

Arthas laughed and obeyed the command.

The medical probe went from his head slowly down past his neck. "Very little brain activity..." she grinned. "Just right for a security officer...." One hand rested lightly on his chest. He was forced to look up at her and she knew that he couldn't help but look at her breasts from that angle. The uniform was figure hugging and she took a deep breath. As she ran the tricorder probe down his body she trailed her free hand lightly across his uniform until she reached his belly. There, she continued the medical probe, analysing the slug within its pouch. She kept the distaste from her face, and kept her hand where it was. Finally she looked across at him.

"You're in top shape, Lieutenant," she said with a smile. "Nothing wrong that I can see...." She arched an eyebrow.

Arthas, still laying down said, "Can spot sit up now?" he said smiling

"I don't know..." she mused. "I haven't taught him that trick yet." She gave him a cheeky smile again. "He probably only knows sit, stay, lay down and roll over..." she pouted. Then she turned away and rolled her eyes at Arie who promptly giggled again. "You're fine, Lieutenant. You can go." She wiggled a bit as she walked away.

Arthas smiled. "Well, I guess I'll see you next week then," he said. His next checkup was exactly a week away

"I don't know..." she said with her face turned away. "It's a small ship." She brushed her hand over the back of her skirt. "I'm in the Counselling department on Gamma shift." She gave him a smile as she looked over her shoulder. "See ya, spot...."

Arthas laughed. "Bye."

Arthas turned and walked out of sickbay. I hope that nickname doesn't catch on, he thought.

In sickbay Arie almost collapsed in a fit of giggling. "I can't believe you did that!" she said to Emma Summers. "He's a Lieutenant - and you're a crewman! You called him Spot!" She was aghast. "What got into you?" Normally Summers was the shy type but she'd turned up for shift in what was becoming standard uniform for the nurses in sickbay - it had started as a trend from Amy and it had caught on while they were at Risa.

Emma just smirked. "He's a man, Arie...never forget that...we have the control." She raised a brow and looked at the now closed doors in contemplation. "I wonder if he comes to heel too?" she said in a sly voice.

"You've been hanging around Amy haven't you?" Arie accused with a grin.

"Only a couple times..." Emma smiled. "She's fun."

---