::furrows brows at that greeting, but wisely decides to ignore it::
::pulls up seat, dropping own tray down::
Just who I needed to see. And alone for once...
Science lab. She has sandwiches.
::gives up on salad, leaning back to look at pilot::
What is it?
::clasps hands, trying to figure out a non-ego-shattering way to phrase the issue::
Well, Harry, frankly, I need advice.
You're pretty good at reading women. Or at least reading what ticks them off and avoiding it.
You even get along with Seven better than most people.
::stares, torn between running and laughing...maybe the latter, then the first?::
::no, he'd just follow::
Tom, there are a million and one things you could have done to tick Seven off. It's not that hard to do to begin with, and you're better at it than most people.
::frowns at pat turnaround of own words::
I know that, Harry. Just...help me narrow it down.
...are you sure she's mad at you?
Well...when I got home the other night, she was off regenerating and had left for her Astrometrics shift by the time I woke up...but I didn't really get the sense anything was amiss until last night.
::dances in seat at not exactly patient look of coaxing blasting from across table::
...she'd overrode the bedroom door and left a blanket and padd in the living area. Said she was tired and I snore.
...so help me, if you laugh, Lieutenant....
What do you think?
You need a live-in girlfriend who doesn't have Borg hacking skills.
::fights twitch, even if companion's 'superior' tone isn't nearly as intimidating as it probably should be::
...well, yeah, she's not supposed to need regeneration and sleep close together, so I'd call flimsy excuse.
What was the last thing you talked about?
The last last remark I made might have been something akin to a statement of intent...well, proposition, if she hadn't been in the mood...
::looks around at sound of utensil dropping nearby, glaring at unsuspecting snoop of a crewman::
Those don't usually make her mad though.
::clears throat at friend's expression of disbelief::
She's a very passionate woman, Harry.
::raises hand to shut him up::
I don't want to hear about your sex life. Or hers.
Those fantasies get me in trouble with certain borderline telepaths.
What was the last thing you talked about before that?
Hell, I don't know. Nicknames? Her nickname.
Jenay went off when I called her 'sprite' and I very innocently asked if all members of the female race hate terms of endearment, and might have brought up the fact that Magnus calls her Annie...
She did rush me off then, now that I think of it.
There you go, then. That's why you're in the dog house.
::discreetly checks chronometer...he can't nag about personal issues on the bridge, at least::
Now you've just got to figure out how to get yourself out of it.
That doesn't clarify anything! Is she mad because I talked about the nickname or mad because I talked about her father or both?
::slaps palms to eyes, squinting to shut out light even further::
::looks at time again, more pointedly::
I don't know, I'm not a mind reader. Inference can only get you so far.
You should probably ask her...after shift.
We're already late.
That's assuming I can find her, or she hasn't moved on to Borg force fields...
::reluctantly follows him out of mess and toward lift::
Borg are a hell of a lot of work. It's worse than dealing with a Klingon.
::shakes head...he never changes::
I think it has more to do with her being part of the female race.
Tom, you have a knack for annoying women.
...you've even managed to make Kes mad...both of them.
Well, at least they get over it relatively quickly.
Linnis' mother only put me on the sofa once...and that was for an hour. Bless the Ocampan fear of wasted time.
::stumbles a little at thought of other Kes...maybe she can hold a better grudge::
::sighs when lift stops at bridge level, tugging at collar one more time...it'll be a long shift::
's questioning look with a you don't want to know
one of own in passing, making beeline for Ops::
::grins a little when face is out of sight::
::if nothing else, can spend the next eight hours watching pilot squirm::