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Chocolate now? [Oct. 30th, 2009|04:53 pm]
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::closes out Ensign Larson's file, adding reminder of next scheduled session to planner::

::leans back in seat to kick feet up on desk, moving eyes from wrist chronometer to door, with a silent plea dropped between...somehow, slow space brings out the need for therapy in everyone::

::of course, half of those 'therapy' sessions primarily consist of sitting and listening patiently to complaints about Command's hurry up and wait tendency::

::looks out porthole to right of desk...well, yes, it would be nice to go somewhere::

::suppresses self-depressing sigh, pulling feet back to floor when terminal chimes to announce incoming call::

::and another, when origin becomes obvious::

Counselor Troi. How can I help you today, Tom?

[User Picture]From: ltcmdrtomparis
2009-11-09 05:32 am (UTC)
Finding you!

::bites back what could prove to be a faintly hysterical laugh, struggling to maintain tone of amiable derision::

From what the Admiral has been slipping into his official letters, I thought you were off in the wilds of the Romulan empire, being almost as big a disappointment as me.

Glad you made it home. Now what the hell are you doing buddying up with Troi?
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From: dr_moira_paris
2009-11-09 01:58 pm (UTC)
::settles back in the counselor's comfy chair with an internal heave...this will be fun, clearly some things never change::

I was, I did, and I'm not. I just happen to work next door.

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[User Picture]From: ltcmdrtomparis
2009-11-09 02:07 pm (UTC)
::wracks brain...Troi's location is quasi-classified, Command somehow has a hand in disguising the from here to there details of even Pathfinder's communications, but little details are hard to miss::

::that's no terrestrial office she works from::

On a starship? You hate space!
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From: dr_moira_paris
2009-11-10 04:46 pm (UTC)
Anybody with a decent sense of self-preservation would. Unfortunately, modern life doesn't cater to the intelligent.

::absently picks up stylus, twirling it::

Besides, if I remember rightly, you're pretty claustrophobic yourself, yet you've lived on that ship for seventeen years.
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[User Picture]From: ltcmdrtomparis
2009-11-10 04:51 pm (UTC)
Don't remind me. To think I used to dread the possibility of staring at ye old cell wall every day for the rest of my life. At least it had graffiti.

::grins a little despite self, and at her untouched honesty::

All right, Molly mine, let's call a draw.

We're both sell-outs.

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From: dr_moira_paris
2009-11-11 03:11 am (UTC)
::feels one side of mouth tilt despite self::

Whatever makes you feel better.

::sobers quickly, leaning forward to stare again::


I said some pretty unfair things the last time we spoke. I'm sorry.
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[User Picture]From: ltcmdrtomparis
2009-11-11 03:18 am (UTC)
::shifts in shared discomfort...neither handing out or receiving apologies are a Paris forte::

To be perfectly honest, I don't remember what you said.

I just remember the sadness on your face. I'm sorry for putting it there.
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From: dr_moira_paris
2009-11-11 04:06 am (UTC)
...stop that.

::blinks forcefully, drawing self up and putting on firmest expression::

It's been a long time. There's no point in back-tracking, and I know it's not something you would call just to do.

You were looking for me. Why...really?
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