||[Oct. 30th, 2009|04:53 pm]
::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?
Not during that particular incident, no. We do have Seven, though...Seven of Nine, Annika Hansen.
::returns her look of confusion::
I know you've had to hear about the Hansens.
In a lecture from the Admiral, if nothing else, since you like running around Romulan territory on a whim.
...Seven was assimilated a child, the tech she carries has been there for years.
I've heard of the Hansens, although I don't think Seven of Nine has made it into your official crew manifest or the reports.
And I just don't see how her implants could still be active.
::bites lips, debating how much is wise to say::
We've dealt with the Borg back home in the past few years as well. In fact, it was thought...hoped...that they had been eradicated.
If she still has functioning implants, it's obviously not true.
...that could be of interest to Command.
Maybe Doc was rightly concerned about her home-coming after all.
I'm sure it would be.
I'll make sure Chakotay keeps on leaving her out of paperwork.
...can I depend on you to do the same?
::puts just enough pinch in tone to imply annoyance that the matter is even in question::
You're going to have to tell me a little more, though. This Seven...Annika...are you certain she's not a security risk?
::offers a derisive laugh::
To herself, every damn day. To the rest of us, not at all.
I trust her.
...I'm marrying her.
::bites back another laugh::
::better than the endless string of one night stands, maybe, but still...his choice in women::
Congratulations. I want to talk to her. Fair warning and all of that.
Oh, she already gets plenty of that, but she's stubborn and is sticking with me. I'm a lucky guy.
Plus, she could and would beat me up with a pinky if I went astray.
::twitches knee at awkward lull::
I guess we should stop hogging the uplink.
Can we try to keep up with each other a little better from here out, Molly?
I'm keeping a tally of how many times you use that nickname so I can make you pay when we meet again in person.
::holds hand briefly to heart, before offering a cherubic grin::
I'll just have to make it worth your while, then.
::tips fingers in half-assed salute::
Later, Molly mine.
::barely gets a head shake in before the screen goes dark again::
::after a long moment to gather thoughts, inputs override, pulling up Pathfinder files::
::might as well make full use of the counselor's domain::