|Up a creek, running out of oars...
||[Jul. 17th, 2009|03:07 pm]
::stops just beyond door sensors, lifting bouquet in hand to critically examine again...it looks nice, Sam approved, but you never know with some women::
::drops arm, feeling more than a little idiotic for hesitating to enter own quarters...especially after amused looks given by two passing crewmen::
::draws to full height, taking a soothing breath before trying to saunter in::
::pauses...it's times like this a fitting term of endearment would be handy::
I'm sorry I'm late...Neelix backed me into a corner wanting to talk about the shower for Harper and Kyoto and apparently a separate party for the baby's six monther...
::takes in more than usual silence, looking around...she has to be here, the computer said so::
::stops at bedroom door::
::sighs, stepping forward to try luck even though a certain feeling says it's futile...and it is::
::bumps nose, backing up to glare...patience only goes so far::
Seven? Open up.
...the last time I checked, you aren't a teenager, so if we could both try to approach this as two adults...
Fine. Take your time. I'll be here when you feel like coming out.
::waits, slipping occasional look at chronometer::
My patience ends at ten.
::drops flowers, charging back out of quarters and down corridor::