<USS Avalon> "Her Office"

"Her Office"
By: Lt.FC. Melanie Redgrave
 
The room was stripped to the bare Starfleet issue pieces of furniture, with  
the exception of the desk, it had been beamed up from the London transport  
center. The chair, which looked pretty close to an issued chair, had one extra  
feature that Melanie liked a lot, it was recline-able. Melanie stood in the  
doorway of her office taking in the bare walls, empty desk top, empty shelves,  
and cabinets. She stepped aside to allow Paul to place the last of the boxes  
she’d brought and then closed the door behind him. If she was going to be  
comfortable in her new office, in her new position for that matter, she needed 
a 
 space of her own. 
 
She filled the shelves with volumes of books on topics that ranged from  
Forensic science to Agatha Christy. She placed her degrees on the wall behind  
her 
desk, and three small, framed, 20th century Broadway posters -Gypsy, Annie  
Get Your Gun, Wicked- over the small couch on the other side of the room. She  
placed a large jar filled with a slightly browned fluid and a  piglet fetus  
in the cabinet with the glass doors. She placed a small vase with three yellow  
and orange roses on her desk. 
 
There were other things that Melanie set around her office. Little touches  
that just made it more her, and things she needed to do her job. Then she sat  
down at her desk and started to program her computer. She wanted to make sure  
some of her music programs would be accessible and she wanted to make sure 
all  her access codes and accounts were active. As she sat there tapping the 
screen  of her computer, an old Arthur Miller song playing softly in the 
background,  Melanie’s mind started to wander. 
 
She just couldn’t seem to shake off the way her date had ended the night  
before. Had the mood of the evening really been broken just because she 
wouldn’t  
sing, or was there something going on with Elijah that she wasn’t seeing. She 
 replayed the evening over in her mind again, trying to pin point the moment 
when  it had gone sour. 
 
Elijah had asked her to sing for him and she’d turned him down. She wasn’t  
up for that just yet, to many years singing only for her mother and people 
made  of photons and force fields. Then she asked about his holodeck programs. 
Why  would asking about that have bothered him? It must have been her refusal 
to 
sing  for him. Melanie sighed as she sat back in her chair, turned it to the 
side, and  then pressed the bottom that reclined it. She leaned her head back 
and closed  her eyes and tried to think. She had to be missing something, but 
what was  it?

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