::tucks two fingers of free hand under companion's uniform collar, yanking it straight::
I believe the recipe was titled 'Chicken Carcass Stew'. Ensign Delaney's latest peace offering.
::tactfully withholds reflex query...is that a real recipe, or does Jenny just need more 'help'?::
...oh. No actual chicken or carcass involved, I assume?
Only replicated substitutes.
Neelix's stores are low, I'm afraid.
::lifts brow at expression on pilot's face::
And even when they are not, Commander, 'chicken' as you define it is difficult to come across. Earth is still a great distance away.
::swallows a dually serving groan...always interesting Talaxian complaints will be up soon for review, then, and...::
::is saved from commenting on the terrible and lacking humor of former Borg by doors swishing open::
::looks over annika_hansen
's shoulder, steeling self for a different kind of round at expression on daughter's face...that's right, Doc wanted to run tests today::
Ah...how did it go?
::skirts them both, flopping down on nearest chair::
He stuck me in the chamber for at least an hour. And sang while I was a captive audience.
Linnis came in once, but I think it was just to gloat...she didn't even have the courtesy to delete him when she left.
The Doctor has a very pleasant tenor.
::moves to small table nearer cooking enclave, sitting dish down and retrieving plates for ladling...three today, apparently::
And I believe your father would be more interested in hearing his diagnostic conclusions than imaginary tortures.
Actually, I'm looking forward to my shift in the big chair a lot more than I was five minutes ago...
::winces...bridge duty, now that's
::suppresses gusty sigh of resignation, taking seat at table and watching as jenay_paris
does the same::
What's the verdict? How soon do I have to put you behind multiple force fields?
And I refuse to feel guilty about entertaining the idea this time...since human-Ocampan hybids can spawn more than once, she can spawn later. Much later.
::stares at him, gripping fork all the tighter::
At this rate, never.
We've been here over a year, right?
::lets question linger::
And you know how much I've aged? The human equivalent to a month.
::raises voice to clarify, since they just don't seem to be getting it::
He said I'm the equivalent to fifteen!
I'll never grow up!
::flings fork over shoulder, slamming into chair back and folding arms::
::coughs, carefully avoiding two matching glares::
I meant...ah, um...
::shakes head...that didn't come out right either::
It doesn't make any sense. Linnis shot through puberty, Andrew did
more or less
...the growth slow down didn't happen until after for them.
::wonders briefly about renara_paris
, not without a pang of guilt::
He didn't know. To quote...
::lifts fingers to punctuate::
"You people insist on defying every rule of medical logic I've ever encountered. It's obscene!"
::swallows, taking a moment to be genuinely impressed...she must have really worked a number to send the Doc off into a rant like that::
::would even be proud, if the facts didn't speak for potential years more of adolescent terrorizing::
::chews on another chunk of not-chicken to fight grin::
::eyes him, not at all fooled::
::turns head back to outraged girl, attempting to find appropriately sympathetic...and conciliatory...response::
...the Doctor has very strange methods of showing affection as well.
::kicks chair back::
I'll go find Mama. At least she doesn't pick on me.
Ah, good cop bad cop.
::shrugs off a smidgen of hurt::
I always thought I was the good cop.
::watches teen's dramatic exit with a raised brow::
Cheer up, sprite. It'll give you extra time to get a grasp on those physics laws.
:draws to haughty stop just inside doors, wheeling back::
I'm not a twentieth century pop drink!
::spins on heel again, striding out into busy pre-shift corridor traffic with nary another look::
::dangles fork, contemplating whether the attitude is worth confronting in the long run::
::shakes with silent laughter at own inward joke, before realization that remaining company isn't nearly so amused strikes::
Oh, come on, Seven, she'll get over it.
...the nickname part, at least.
::pauses, startled to find no adequate wording to describe such behavior::
A pig? Yeah, got it.
::chuckles a little more before washing down last bite and rising::
I am curious, though...do all girls get so annoyed by terms of endearment?
::raises own brow::
I would not know.
::stares, considering...well, she has a point...it's been a while since 'Seven' was just a nickname, and nobody seems to call her anything else...hell, what would you call her?::
Your father calls you Annie.
::lifts plates from table, moving to refresher::
::joins, accepting a dishrag as trade for three glasses::
Well, you don't seem to like it much.
I guess that answers the question, doesn't it?
::glances to opposite wall and chronometer::
Your shift begins in two minutes. I believe it would be bad form for the duty officer to be late.
::sighs at distractive ploy::
The way I see it, the perks of being the duty officer include showing up whenever you damn well please...well, within reason.
Come on, Seven.
::offers a chesire cat grin::
Nobody would blame me if I said I was busy being kissed by a beautiful woman.
::narrows eyes, uncertain as to whether the statement is purely playful or retributive topic shift::
::decides to save competition for a later date, settling instead on a long-outdated cliche::
::leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to one of pilot's ruddy cheeks::
Enjoy your shift, Commander.
::loses grin despite best efforts::
::heads for door at firm shove, offering a look of warning back::
We'll continue this later...and I'll leave it to you to decide whether that's something to dread or not.
::allows self just a glimpse of former drone's perfectly shocked expression before heading out into corridor as well::
Like chipping ice...
::ah, well...kitchen stays toasty::