[USS Tempest] Crap Storm Dead Ahead

Lindsey wandered onto the Bridge after saying goodbye to John.  She'd woken up 
that morning with her head on his shoulder.  It had been so comfortable that 
she hadn't wanted to leave, but work called.  Even though they were still 
docked, there needed to be someone on duty at all times.  Glancing around the 
Bridge, she saw her XO sat in the captain's chair.
 
Smiling, she offered him her hand.  "We meet at last, Commander DeAngelo."
 
Christian stood and took her hand, responding somewhat formally. "Good morning, 
Captain."
 
"Anything to report?"  Moving around him, she sank down into the chair, 
revelling in the feel of it.  "Please tell me there's been no more 
malfunctions."
 
"None worth mentioning, ma'am. Our repair teams seem to have them well in 
hand." Christian answered, remaining at attention.
 
She looked up at him, she shifted uncomfortably.  "Relax, Commander, you're off 
duty now, remember.  And call me Lindsey, no need to stand on ceremony."
 
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that would be wholly inappropriate. You are my 
commanding officer, regardless of what time it is. And my understanding, if 
you'll forgive me, is that Starfleet takes great pride in it's ceremony."
 
"It takes great pride in being up its own ass."  Flowing to her feet, she 
crossed to her Ready Room.  "A moment of your time, Commander, if you have one 
to spare."
 
"Of course, Captain." Christian followed her, figuring he'd clearly stepped in 
something. He couldn't argue with her, knowing what he did about his father, 
however that wasn't the part of the fleet he was serving in and he held a great 
deal of pride in his service thus far.
 
"Tell me something," she said once the door swooshed closed behind them.  "What 
did you do?  Who did you piss off?"
 
Christian blushed, though he did still try to maintain his decorum enough to 
ask, "Ma'am?"
 
"Don't."  Her eyes hardened as she towered over him.  "People don't get 
assigned to a ship under the command of a known misfit that's being sent into 
the armpit of the galaxy for being the 'Fleet's favourite commander."  Stabbing 
her fists on her hips, she said, "So let me repeat the question, what did you 
do?"


"I stood up for my sister, if you must know. I opposed my father and sided with 
my sister." Christian clenched his jaw, strenuously opposing this line of 
questioning.
 
"Then you're a good man."  Breathing out slowly, Lindsey leaned against her 
desk.  She rubbed a finger along a line just above her right eyebrow.  "This 
ain't gonna be an easy assignment, Commander.  But as long as Rosie can patch 
her up, the Tempest will launch tomorrow."  She fixed him with a stern 
____expression.  "Even if I have to get out and push!"
 
Christian suppressed a smile. "I hardly think that'll be necessary, ma'am. If 
it comes to it, I'm telekinetic. I think I can push a bit easier than you."

"Well hell, that's a hell of an ability.  You really think you could push a 
whole starship?"

"I honestly don't know. I imagine the weighless factor would help once we got 
it started, but getting it going might be hard." He couldn't believe they were 
discussing it as though it were possible and finally as the absurdity hit he 
actually did smile.

"I see," she nodded, managing to hold onto her serious face before finally 
allowing the grin to form.  Giggling, she relaxed a little.  "So, tell me, why 
won't you call me Lindsey?"

Christian looked at her seriously. "You're my commanding officer. Regardless of 
how much a misfit they think they we all are, you're still it. You deserve all 
the respect that goes with that, ma'am. Every ounce. I won't take that from 
you, or allow you to rob yourself of it, either."

She melted at his words, not through any kind of romantic feelings, but because 
of his strength of conviction.  "You know something, Mr DeAngelo?  I think I'm 
going to enjoy working with you.  But we're gonna have to work on removing the 
stick up your ass from time to time.  Calling me by my name in private isn't 
disrepecting me or my position on this ship.  It's a sign of friendship, but 
that'll come later hopefully."  Wandering around her desk, she flicked through 
the morning's reports.  "Ah joy of joy, the mundane of day-to-day command.  You 
know?" she glanced up again.  "I think it would be nice to be out there, 
meeting new aliens, even having them attack us, just to get away from all this 
crap for a while."

"No offense, ma'am but it's been my experience that 'crap' as you put it tends 
to follow those who're trying to get away from it first. It's that whole 
magnetic attraction thing. So, I think I've a right to know if I'm to serve 
under you, are you a crap magnate ma'am?" he tried hard to keep a straight 
face. So hard, in fact, that he almost succeeded.

Chuckling, Lindsey fixed him with her sweetest smile.  "Why no, of course not, 
Commander.  I don't attract crap, I run head first into the stuff."

Christian burst out laughing. When at last he could respond, he answered, "Well 
thank you for the warning, ma'am. I'll have the crew issued rain gear and hip 
boots immediately. Just yell 'charge' when you're ready and we'll follow you 
in."

The gaffow that Lindsey let out made the walls shake and she almost slipped off 
the edge of her desk.  "My word, Commander, I think you and I shall get along 
just fine.  Now, call me Lindsey."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered with a wink before turning back to his work, still 
chuckling, thinking this post just might work out after all.


                
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