[USS Tempest] Trip the Light Ferengi by Byron Matthews, Nat Lynley, & Rosie Le Beau
- From: TKilyle@xxxxxxx
- To: usstempest@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Tue, 17 May 2005 14:43:20 EDT
Rosie was grumbling, out loud and none too politely. It was her fourth
diagnostic of the engineering computers alone and she was getting tired of
seeing
the same thing.
"The captain's not going to like this," she said out loud. "I need another
break."
"So take one then. You owe me dinner."
She sucked in her breath and scrambled from underneath the console. Nat was
standing there, hands behind his back, with a smile on his face. "You didn't
show up on time so I figured you were here."
She put her arms around him and hugged tightly. "Oh, Nathaniel, I'm so sorry.
I forgot the time. This place is such a mess and I wanted to get it somewhat
better before the captain takes the official tour. Forgive me?"
"Of course. I felt like such a slouch for walking about while you were
working that I took the liberty of bringing up take away from the Bajoran cafe
on
station," Nat said, bringing his arm around front to show the basket he was
holding. "This isn't quite a table at Sisko's and there's no candlelight but
the company is perfect," he said simply.
She couldn't even think of resisting that hopeful smile. He looked like such
a little boy when he did that. Skirting the basket, she reached up and kissed
him. "You're right. It is perfect."
Byron's mood was taking a steep dive toward mildly miffed. He stalked toward
Main Engineering, his PADD bashing against his thigh. Without looking up, he
stormed in, saying, "I swear, if I hear the Accountancy Shanty one more time,
I'm going to scream! I mean, it wouldn't be so bad except it's in Ferengi!"
Glaring at the PADD in his hand, he continued, "Every time I try accessing a
new psychology paper I get a short vid of three of the ugly little dwarves
singing the thing as they dance across my screen."
Nat and Rosie both froze. They both knew that nobody, except for the dimmest
of Pakleds, would ever mistake their position, Rosie's arms around Nat's neck
and his around her waist, as a platonic gesture between crew mates. As soon
as Nat looked up, he lost a bit of color from his face. He recognized the man
from the personnel records he'd been reviewing for Lindsey. Damn it all, he
grumbled to himself, it would have to be the ship's counselor.
As casually as they could, Nat and Rosie disentangled themselves. Nat was
still holding the basket but Rosie looked up at the stranger and offered a wan
smile. "Can I help you with something?"
To say that Byron's jaw dropped was a bit of an understatement. "I... er...
I..." Then his grin suddenly flashed, white teeth sparkling. "Well, don't I
feel like the goosebury. It was just a little technical difficulty, nothing
that can't wait I'm sure." He held out his hand. "I'm Byron Matthews, by the
way, the most inconvenient man on the ship."
Nat put the basket down, on the floor because he knew engineers hated
spillable things near electronics, and shook his hand. There was no use in
being
rude. It wasn't the man's fault after all. "Nathaniel Lynley," he said simply.
"I'm the captain's aide."
Rosie looked up at Nat for a moment. He had agreed to keep their relationship
quiet for her sake but he didn't seem like he was going to do that now. He
obviously knew who this guy was and was not about to lie to him. Nathaniel, I
do hope you know what you're doing.
"Rosie Le Beau," she finally added as she held out her own hand. "I'm the
Chief Engineer so this is the place for technical difficulties." And other
kinds
of difficulties, too.
"Ah, well, good stuff then." Handing Rosie his PADD, he reiterated the
problem. "The console's the same, always the Monty Python song sang by Ferengis
that dance. I don't think I'd mind it so much if it weren't for the dancing.
They can't, by the way, it's an officially noted genetic deficiency of the
whole
species." Glancing between the two people, he smiled ruefully. "You know,
perhaps Main Engineering isn't the place for a romantic tryst." Cocking his
head to one side, he said, "Unless you somehow wanted to get caught."
"Oh my god...that's horrible," Rosie exclaimed as she watched the dancing
Ferengi.
Nat looked over her shoulder at the display and shuddered slightly. "Awful,
truly awful," he stated. He looked up at Byron and offered him a frank gaze.
"Counselor, I, personally, could care less who knows about our relationship.
As Rosemary once told me, I have enough time in the Fleet that I hardly have
to worry about disciplinary action, especially since anything after what I've
been through already is going to be minor in my eyes. Rosemary, on the other
hand, does not have anywhere near the same amount of time in as I do."
"Please, call me Byron. And you are almost anticipating the disapproving
reaction of your superiors, aren't you, Nat (can I call you Nat? I hope you
don't mind)?" Byron smiled a tight-lipped smile, continuing to appraise the
older
man before him. "I've read your file, I know what happened. But what you
have to remember is, I'm not your superior officer. Hell, I'm not even in the
'Fleet. What would you like me to do? Go running to the Captain and tell her
that her aide is kissing her Chief Engineer? Say that some antiquated, foolish,
up-their-own-asses rule system laid down centuries ago is making two
perfectly innocent people feel guilty about completely acceptable feelings?"
Placing
a finger on his chin, Byron said, "Your defense of your lady is admirable,
but you don't have to protect her from me." With a grin, he added, "Unless she
likes to dance."
Nat could almost feel the relief of tension from Rosie and he simply reached
over to squeeze her hand. He was also trying very hard not to laugh.
"First of all, Byron, you may indeed call me Nat. Rosemary and my grandfather
are probably the only people who actually call me by my given name," he said
with a smile. He blew out a soft breath then, gathering his thoughts. "To be
perfectly honest, I've never questioned those rules until just recently. I
thank you for your candor but I am certain there are others who will not be so
accepting of things."
"He means Fleet people, Byron. We still can't be open about us," Rosie added
but she offered him a grin. "And I don't mind dancing."
"Ah," Byron said with a look of deep regret on his face, "I see. I'm afraid,
Nat, my friend, you will have a run for your money." Stepping close, he
lifted Rosie's fingers to his lips, grinning at Nat out of the corner of his
eye.
"A beautiful woman who dances," shaking his head, he suddenly laughed, "who
is totally smitten with your good self. I don't stand a chance."
Nat chuckled slightly and shook his head. He'd had enough good natured
teasing from Kaartaren. "I should certainly hope not," he said simply as he
slipped his arm around Rosie's waist.
Rosie's knees almost went weak with the tone of Nat's voice. She gave him a
quick hug then waved the PADD at Byron. "I was going to say it could have
been worse, like the Klingon macarena, but I doubt even that would beat this.
Where'd you get the PADD? Ships' stores or downside?"
"It was my personal PADD," Byron hurumphed. "I linked it to my console to
download a few ideas for papers I'd had but all that happened was that awful
song started up." He threw up his hands in dismay. "It's wiped the entire
drive, I'm sure of it."
Rosie stared at the PADD, thinking. Pushing a few of the white strands of
her hair from her face she said, "That is the first interesting thing I've
heard since I started this mess. I'm sorry it got screwed up because now I'm
thinking it's something on the ship if it was fine beforehand."
"I do hope you had a backup of your work," Nat added.
With a sour face, Byron shrugged. "That was the back-up. The majority of
my work was on the ship's computer." He sighed and then scowled. "It's going
to take me hours to get the stuff sent over from Earth."
"My very first commanding officer was a happy chap named Loojan, a Bolian.
He always told me that you should back up your important information in at
least three different spots. That would explain why I have certain
information
that certain bloody admirals don't know about," Nat told him, his mouth
tightening slightly at the last thought. "He also taught me how to fuss with
these things after I lost some information on him. I could have a look if
you'd
like, even though I am, by no means, a computer expert."
Musing over Nat's comment about Admirals, Byron nodded. "I'm sure you'll be
a damn-sight better at it than me. I had a go at trying to fix it and all
that happened was they started singing in a slightly higher pitch." Sighing,
he smiled wanly at them. "I'm sorry for interrupting your evening. Can I
leave the thing with you?"
"Certainly," Nat said simply, accepting the PADD gingerly. "And, thank you,
Byron. I would hate to have to put Lindsey on the spot when she went
through so much to get me here."
"He even threatened to quit when we first talked about this," Rosie added.
She knew how much the deceit bothered him but she knew he loved her. Wanting
to lighten the mood, she jerked her thumb at the PADD. "If Nathaniel can't
fix the thing, maybe you could sell it to Quark. Might have yourself a hit
after all."
With a cackle, Byron stepped up to Rosie and kissed her on the cheek. "I
may do just that. Well, thank you both. A word of advice, though," he said
as
he eyed Nat carefully. "Tell the Captain, she will understand." He waved,
wiggling his fingertips as he bounced out.
As the doors closed behind Byron, Nat shook his head and said, "Sprightly
chap, isn't he?"
"But very nice. Doesn't seem like any of the counselors I've ever run
into," Rosie replied. She looked up at Nat, into those dark eyes. "Are you
going
to take his advice?"
He knew she was still afraid but he wasn't going to lie. "Some day--yes, I
will. Just not today. Now, we have dinner to eat still and afterwards, if
you'll tell what to look for, I'll lend a hand."
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