::transfers gaze from padd stack A to padd stack B, weighing the evil each potentially contains::
::lingers on A::
Crew evaluations...what the hell am I supposed to do there? Oh, yes, Crewman Boylan has changed his hairstyle since I last saw him...not sure that point is up to regs, but I recommend we let it slide. You'd understand if Neelix ever came near your ears with a sharp object.
::shifts eyes to B...that's a whole other can of worms::
::jerks head up at banging from vicinity of door, swallowing crow of glee...barely::
Who is it?
::lifts eyes and voice::
You didn't recognize my trademark tap? I'm shocked, Commander, shocked.
She has a trademark tap? Wait, which one is that?
::gives one more pondering look to padds, finally deciding to take chances on the unseen evil::
::scrapes chair back from desk, rubbing kink out of neck en route to door::
::press button to open it, staring::
I do keep office hours, you know, Ensign.
::slaps him on shoulder, stepping merrily past::
And I'll be sure to take advantage of them sometime very soon. I've heard things about the seating in the XO's hole...
::spins around, wrinkling nose while trying to gauge his mood::
Tom. What's happened to you?! Don't tell me you keep a protocol stick up your...
::holds up a finger, slashing the remark::
I could name a person or two who could use a spanking with one.
Don't read into it.
::motions her to seat::
I hope like hell you brought me something besides that padd, because I've seen as many of those as I can stand for the night.
::shrugs, remembering cargo and holding it up despite his complaint::
Sorry. If you want anything else you'll have to override my replicator cap for the month. I wouldn't mind if you did, actually. There's a lot of month left, and well, Neelix's menu...
::leaves it, dropping the padd on the coffee table when companion makes no move to claim it::
I'm not enough?
::shakes head, offering a pained look in return for her own crestfallen mask::
I'm not in the mood for games. If you need something, ask.
Replicator cap already? What the hell does she use, and for what?
Good Lord, someone's prickly.
::ignores seat offer, stepping closer to the pilot::
The padd contains Seven's ideas for a complete overhaul of Astrometrics. It doesn't need an overhaul. If it didn't point to overt humanity, I'd swear she's in an outright tizzy over her drone daddy and over-compensating in the self-distraction department. You might want to talk to her or something.
Otherwise, I was just following through on an earlier promise to catch up with you.
It's been a while.
I'd almost managed to forget about Seven and her blasted Borg issues.
Fine. I'll pin her down tomorrow.
As for the other...can't it wait a little longer?
Thanks. It made me feel rotten.
::wasn't lying...that was a mouthful of history best left to history::
::grimaces, shaking off some pretty wretched memories::
Can we get back to what we were doing?
Me not having any ethics?
::shrugs, running a nail along his jaw::
If you insist...but don't say I never offered to at least try.
I'll take the blame for this too. Chakotay's shoulders are broad, but mine are tough.
::dips head for a lingering kiss, silencing the remark poised to come out of those luscious lips::
::withdraws, enjoying the brief moment of breathless quiet::
I don't remember you talking so much before.
I don't remember ever being so nervous before...
::touches finger to lips, smiling::
I guess I should be happy you remember anything, with your paddful of conquests.
::moves gaze back up, meeting his questioning eyes::
::shakes head, grabbing a hand and pulling him in direction of the main bedroom::
::almost takes a moment to ponder the implications of a seemingly new, more mushy Jenny Delaney...before another train of memory arrests movement::
::grips her hand, digging heels in::
No. Not in there.
::chuckles at self almost as soon as the plea escapes, more to jar breath than anything::
...I'm sorry. I think you'd better go.
:halts abruptly, losing the pilot's hand::
::spins, taking in his stricken look, and following it::
::expels a low hiss, more of frustration than actual annoyance::
::takes a slight step forward, encountering coming face to face with an uplifted palm::
::sighs, skirting around him instead, heading for the door::
I just wish you loved me a quarter as much as you love her...still.