::half-straightens from painful kneel, poking head up over desk surface::
::exhales...a slow, gusty blow of dry air::
::favors her cheeky smile with a wide grin of own::
Counselor. Come right on in.
::pushes off of doorjamb, noting discreet exodus of engineering staff to opposite side of the bridge::
::bites back what would be a highly unprofessional laugh, obeying the lazy, inviting order::
::walks slowly around desk, surveying the situation::
Well, I see that you managed to get down.
But can you get up?
::stares, eyes widening at clear innuendo::
::jumps when sound of a spanner hitting deck echoes from bridge, offering wife a disapproving look::
::can't hold frown, though...not in the face of that smile::
::rocks back on heels, absorbing it for a moment...she's happy, genuinely happy again::
::finally manages to quit basking and crook a finger::
Join me for a moment, Commander.
I'll get dirty, Will.
::releases a sigh, torturing knees a little more to creep in her direction::
::pokes at a dusty boot with index finger::
You're already dirty.
::looks back up, waggling brows::
Come on. You'll like what I want to show you.
::covers mouth with hand briefly before easing way down, poking an angled knee in turn::
Stop. Act your age, Captain.
::softens rebuff with a hand atop same knee, twisting head to take in view from below::
All right. What is it I'm supposed to be seeing, Imzadi?
You have to be more flexible than that.
::gently grasps both shoulders, steering her to prone position, head nearly on lap::
::after a brief sigh at the unfairness, removes a hand, feeling up under desk until rough pattern emerges in polymer surface::
Can you read it?
::suppresses temptation to comment on cushiness of pillow, shifting and squinting to see through shadows::
Five years worth of Christine's gum?
::protests the shaking his laughter causes with an elbow jab, looking again::
...something carved in by laser beam?
Just so, Counselor.
::snags a tendril of hair between fingers, tugging teasingly::
But can you read it?
::purses lips, making mental note to fully punish him later::
::in meantime, dedicates attention to assigned task, lifting own fingers to brush his aside and trace::
::at vague noise of assent, braces self further, angling head closer to read::
::Will loves Deanna?::
::pulls head up when no response is forthcoming, meeting bright, honest blue eyes::
And when exactly did you get it in your head to vandalize Starfleet property in a fit of schoolboy affection, Mr. Riker?
Right after Admiral Nechayev called to remind me that Starfleet's pace is somewhat faster than a civilian pace, and to express her doubts as to which I'm working at.
I needed to remind myself why exactly I'm doing this.
::realizes how unenthusiastic that probably sounded, quickly sliding dee_troi
from under desk and back against chest in snug embrace::
::nudges fall away strands of hair away with nose, trailing the faintest of kisses up a cheekbone::
Things are about to change again. I don't regret it, but you'd better believe I intend to hold onto every memory of this
Looks like I'll have you under my desk one way or the other, Commander
::jumps as another spanner falls, bringing palm down to smack a knee...hard::
::scoots away, turning to frown::
It's a good thing these people won't be serving here.
::shakes head, unable to really hold annoyance::
What exactly does Admiral Nechayev believe you should be doing at a faster rate of speed?
It's a good thing they know that things heard on a job stay with the job, too.
::lowers voice after subdued murmurs from outside suggest point was made, looking at wife with twinkling eyes::
She sent me potential crew manifests. Some of the crew are coming back, but damn if Christine didn't manage to steal a few as well. Looks like I have to pick a new senior staff.
::bites lip again::
::pulls away, climbing to feet::
::places hands on hips, eyes sweeping to flexi on desk::
I suppose it's lucky that you already have your advisor, then, isn't it?
::lifts brows, debating whether to crawl to feet as well, or just stay put...even if ass is going numb::
::will be ribbed either way::
::with a self-castigating groan, grabs edge of desk, hoisting self up::
Is it too late to schedule a physical?
Sounds like someone already has a few ideas.