Stuck

Posted on Thu Feb 22nd, 2024 @ 8:07pm by Captain Lorut Vila & Lieutenant Commander Frasier Greene

3,098 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Home Sweet Home
Location: USS Intrepid, Medical
Timeline: Md-02: 0800

Vila woke up VERY sick. She knew it would happen. She'd had wayyyy too much to drink the night before and her new medications, plus the drying out, meant she was now experiencing fierce hangovers.

After kicking out the nameless, faceless man in her bed, she pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and made her way to sickbay. She found Dr. Greene behind his desk.

"Do you ever take a break? It is shore leave. I am pretty sure I scheduled Dr. Gocx for today. He was fine with it. Something about El Aurians not liking Klingons," she said.

"Morin' Commander," Frasier greeted her in slightly muted manner. He wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders himself after a rowdy evening out, his voice was a touch gravely and there was district darkness under his eyes. "Gocx hasn't reported in this morning so here I am," he sighed wearily.

Lorut sighed. "I'll speak to him," she said.

"Anyway. I need help. I had a bit too much to drink last night and...do you have some kind of hypospray??" She whined a little. "My head hurts. I still had a bit of work to do before I can really cut loose..." she explained. In truth, Vila liked the man. He was caring, but professional, and mostly left her alone.

The Doctor blinked slowly comprehending her needs and wished she'd talk a bit slower and softer. Her tone was tugging at his own building headache that he'd opted to ignore instead of treat while sickbay had been deserted previously.

He was a touch disappointed that she'd relapsed into drinking in excessive at least for one night and hoped it won't have a lasting effect on her ongoing rehab. "How much did you have?" he asked. A rather ironic question he chided himself as his own evening was a blurred memory.

"I've mostly stopped drinking and I don't think my body can....process it much anymore." She made a face. Getting older sucked. "But it was...a lot. I don't know. I lost count," she said, quietly. Now she felt guilty.

"Which is the reason why we have synothol," Frasier tried to explain feeling himself cringe at his poor explanation. "I can treat your symptoms but Vila this isn't sustainable as we've already discussed."

Vila sighed. "I KNOW. I have been trying," she said. "I just...I don't know how to relate to someone without alcohol onboard," she said. "Can you please just help me and we can talk about it later? Also, come by my office after and we'll have a little chat with our Klingon friend," she said.

"Fine," the Doctor exhaled, realising she couldn't be reasoned with nor in his weary state did he have the capacity to force the matter. Raising from his seat with a low moan Frasier led the XO back into main sickbay and prepped a double dosage.

"This should get to work quickly," Frasier assured pressing the dispenser against her neck and releasing the medicine with a soft hiss.

"Thanks to our Klingon friend among a few others you'll not the only one with a sore head this morning," he answered her questioning gaze administrating himself a dose.

Vila nodded. "Thank you, Doc," she said. "Ah, I see...you too?" She asked. "But here you are, giving ME hell?" She shook her head. "Well. As soon as I feel better, like I said, I'll call Gocx in and the three of us can have a chat about drinking to excess on the night before duty," she said. "That's why I specifically scheduled people for certain shifts. I take back over for Chet tomorrow myself," she said. SHE wasn't on duty today.

"I don't make a habit of it," the Doctor replied sourly before rubbing his temple frustrated by this mornings events. He'd much rather have enjoyed a slower start to the day, then perhaps he'd spoken to the XO in a kinder tone instead of snapping out of character.

He sighed wearily once more as Vila continued: "That won't be necessary," he tried to interrupt noting her causal attire for the first time. "I'm sure it was just an oversight."

Vila sighed. "Listen. If I can get out of bed hungover and go to work, so can everyone else," she said. "Do we have a medical transporter here?" She asked. "I'd rather not risk the corridors and public turbolifts until the headache is gone."

Frasier was reluctant to answer her question truthfully. Was she planning to bring the Klingon Doctor here, or for them to visit him? Either way being face to face with a hungover, grumpy Klingon certainly wasn't top of his agenda even on a good day. "Yes," he responded realising there was no point trying to pull the wool over her eyes. "Why did you ask?"

"Because I want to transport to my office and sleep a little before I have to do XO stuff," she said. "I can go myself, but you sound just a little possessive of it, so come along and make sure I don't transport to Mars," she said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

Relieved she wasn't planning to drop in on Gocx, Frasier followed behind and allowed the biting comment to pass. Should the XO do something unexpected to the transporter, how would he explain that to Nyx? It was an accident caused by a hangovers on separate nights out by two respected senior staff acting irresponsibly? Not likely to wash.

"More like put yourself outside the hull or inside the warp core, that would take some explained to Culver." The Doctor replied as they stepped up to the small transporter controls.

"Are you kidding? He'd enjoy that," she said. "Alright. Two to my office, I guess," she said. "In case you haven't noticed, Max and I...butt heads a lot," she said.

"That can't be fun considering the tight relationship needed between as Captain and his First Officer to maintain operations," Frasier commented keying in the required details into the transporter.

Vila shrugged. "Different approaches to things. He's too relaxed. I am too...whatever," she said.

"Too what?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"Hard, I guess," she said. "I don't care what people do if they do their jobs. When I was CSO, I didn't even enforce uniform standards. Only lab equipment. They can die on their own time," she said.

She stepped inside the machine as it opened. "Let's go. Computer, XO's office, please," she said. Just as they had beamed, they landed with a thud...not in her office, but inside the medical bay's hull. What the hell? She tapped her COMMS. They weren't working. Then, the small lights in the hull that allowed Engineering and Ops to work in the dark, damp space went out, followed by an overhead Comm. "All units, be advised. All nonessential power is now offline for testing." She sighed, and looked to Greene.

"Now what?" She said.

Frasier tapped his comm too, just like hers it wasn't working either. "Where the hell are we?" he asked looking around their dark location with concern.

"Internal hull," she said, simply. "Where, exactly on the ship? I don't know," she said. "You really should look at the ships' schematics. What if one of the Engineers got hurt in here?" She said.

He swallowed having heard the announcement for testing. "How long is the test for?"

Vila shrugged. "Who knows? I don't know what kind of test it is," she said. "I was the Chief Science Officer, remember?" She stamped her foot in annoyance.

Her reply was surprising. Frasier would have thought as XO she'd known what planned maintenance was taking place during shore leave or at least a vague idea having properly approved them. Then again, eyeing her choice of wardrobe and recalling why she'd come to sickbay in the first place the Commander wasn't on her A game.

"Now what?" She said. She sighed, and sat down. "Might as well sit, Doc," she said. From the pocket of her pants, she withdrew a flask. "I promise it's coffee. Plain." She extended it to him. "I wasn't planning on getting stuck with YOU in a hull today, and I was going pour it into an actual mug in my office. Flask is all I had handy," she explained.

"What were you planning on doing today?" Frasier asked after sitting down beside her and accepted the flask she'd offered. He inhaled the bitter aroma heavily enjoying the heady feeling it gave him before taking a sip. He winced and almost spat out the mouthful - it was still very hot.

"Work a bit, then go see the town. See what kind of trouble I could find," she said. "Find a faceless El Aurian, shag him stupid, then leave him behind," she said, with a shrug. "What about you??" She asked, taking the flask back, and dumping some of the hot liquid down her throat. "I guess we might as well do the "getting to know each other" thing. SO. What's your reason?" She asked.

Hearing her lewd comment about having a lustful one night fling saddened the Doctor a little. Was she afraid of becoming attached again after her tragic loss? Her choice sounded reckless and irresponsible especially given her position on the ship in his opinion. Then again, who was he to judge on how Vila spent her leave?

Wisely he withheld commenting on that topic. "I was hoping to indulge on some water sports. Some locals recommended canoeing through the glades to the north and admire the view," he replied to her first question.

"You want to know that question?" he groaned. "As man in his early forties who until recently was only a Junior Grade I get asked that an awful lot especially at the academy. Some of the lecturers were younger than me! It was.... uncomfortable." He paused. "I often lied, spun tall tales just to mix it up, but I was like everybody else. I joined to escape, escape the mess I'd created separating from my wife and family I abandoned." Frasier begun to fidget uncharacteristically as he opened up with the truth he rarely spoke of: "I chose to run away like a coward."

"Canoeing." It was a statement of incredulity. She wouldn't have picked water sports as a way to spend her time off, but she shouldn't judge. "Sounds...fun," she said.

"I see. I understand how that could be difficult," she said. "What were you running from?" She had an idea, but it'd be interesting to her it from him.

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders at her probing question. "Everything. Staying on Earth reminded me of my failures - I couldn't envision a way to be happy again."

"Interestingly, so was I-running away, I mean. I only joined because I met my ex-husband. I had planned my career to be solely in the Resistance. I actually met him when I was shuttling supplies back to Bajor from DS9-his shuttle had been damaged by some kind of space debris, so he and the three others he was with needed some help...the rest was...history, I guess," she sighed deeply.

"I wouldn't say you ran away," Frasier turned to look in her the face relieved the conversation had moved on. "You followed your heart and exposed yourself to a new way of life."

Vila snorted. "Nah, I remember standing there at my wedding, knowing what a mistake it was, but still doing it because it was expected of me," she said. "We married in three weeks of meeting each other. It really wasn't love," she said. She sighed. "Maybe I should've put some whisky in here," she said, draining the flask of coffee. "Well. Comms aren't working. Transporters' broken. Any ideas?"

"Considering the heavy night we both had yesterday probably best that you hadn't added any." He smirked before stretching his limbs cat like and stifled a yawn. "I don't know about you but I could quite happy to sleep with you here and forget about our responsibilities for now...I...!" the weariness and brain fog suddenly parted hastily as Frasier realised his error with wide eyed horror.

"I mean take a nap!" he quickly added feeling his face flush with embarrassment at the hole he was starting to dig. "Not because I don't you're attractive or anything -I - I" he stuttered again under her gaze, his neck and ears now reddening. "I'm just going to shut up now!" he muttered sinking backwards wishing he could evaporate from humiliation.

Vila chuckled, but luckily, her brain was too hazy to come up with too nasty of a retort. "Actually, a nap sounds nice...and...thanks," she said, blushing a little. It WAS nice to hear, even if it was a slip up. She settled back against the bulkhead. "This is...uncomfortable..." she noted. Still, she'd slept in worse. The floors of the labor camps were gross, and she'd been forced to sleep on them plenty of times.

Frasier blew out his cheeks relieved he'd survived his slip up. "I agree it's rather short on luxuries," he shuffled his body against the same bulkhead with a grimace. He glanced over to her wiggling about and bravely lifted his arm inviting her to rest against his torso. "May I offer you something more comfortable to lean on - nothing more. I promise." he added still flustered from his loose tongue.

She opened her eyes and looked at him a moment. She nodded softly. She wasn't used to being vulnerable with anyone...but still. She leaned her head against his chest. "It is nice," she said, a bit stiffly. She was trying to not lean too hard, in case she was too heavy or something. The soft beating of his heart lulled her, though, and she was soon quiet, in the twilight between wake and sleep. Hopefully, the test wouldn't take too long, and they'd be able to return to her...she'd fallen asleep.

He'd looped his out stretched arm around her supporting her weight and used his lab overcoat as a makeshift blanket. The warmth of her body was comforting in this cool, damp environment, and soon Frasier felt himself relaxing, his eyes drooping.

Truthfully he hadn't expected her to recipient his offer especially after he'd spoken out of turn only a moment before hand. Perhaps the discomfort from last night overindulgence wasn't a bad thing after all. It had allowed them both to experience a vulnerability they'd been hiding - too caught in up the past to allow themselves to accept the comfort of another lonely soul.


Someone else was there...a familiar face. Pale but not Caucasian. The Counselor? Weird dream. What was she looking for? Images appeared. Oh...this wasn't good.. She couldn't stop the images and she couldn't wake up. She let the images come. The first was of her as a child. Eight years old, specifically, when they'd finally been captured by the Cardassians and put in a labor camp. She was scared. She was sad. She was confused. But mostly? She was mad as hell. How DARE they invade and mess up her life? They were just fine before hand, thank you. Another image. This time, it was a lush, tropical planet. She had never caught the name of it-she was young. Cuter then, too. And skinny! Jeez, that was a long time ago....

Still, she let the rest of the image play out. At her side was Ben, her ex-husband (But he wasn't yet) and another two. One was...Nano, the Vulan engineer. The other was Hilary, another human-medical. Why...OH. They were under attack and the four had been sent to try to appeal to the beings that inhabited this planet. She closed her eyes-they had been ambushed. Hand reached for her phaser as she was pushed out of the way-something about green shirts always in the way-and felt it jam. Fuck, of course it did. She moved behind a rock, with Nano. A moment later, her ears rang. An old Earth-style hand-held explosive device landed just feet away. She grabbed Nano to run, but he pushed her away, telling her to save herself. Before she could move, there was an explosion-and Nano was no more. She welled up but managed not to cry. Until they were back on the ship, and she was alone in her quarters. She should have insisted he run with her or died, too. Instead...she couldn't save him. She knew it wasn't her fault, but it sure felt like it.
-

The all-clear klaxon sounded, and Vila's brown eyes popped open. She was tense, and reached for her phaser...it wasn't there. A bit of flailing about, trying to gather her bearings before she realized what was going on. Her eyes darted around, and she could feel her head still on Greene's chest. Oh shit.

She sat up. "Sorry...I think I fell asleep..." God, how was she going to explain how two very senior officers wound up sleeping together-even though that's all they did-in the inner hulls of Medical?

"I think we both did," Frasier stretched his arms and yawned but still appeared drowsy.

"Looks like the testing is over," she said, the lights causing her to squint a little. She tapped her comms badge. =/\=This is Commander Lorut. I need a transport out of the aft inner hulls near Medical back to my office..for two, please." A bit later, they appeared in her office, and she plopped into her chair.

She actually felt a little better, oddly, and like the two had connected in a small way. Still, she had a reputation to keep up and walls to repair-inside her head. "I'll, uh...get you an escort to your office, if you'd like..." she said.

Still feeling sluggish from the nap Frasier rubbed his tired eyes and studied her momentarily wondering what the future held for them, if anything.

"I can manage thanks," he smiled wearily. "I hope you have a trouble free rest of your day." he moved to leave.

She nodded. "Thanks..." she said. Something in her mind-maybe it was the hangover or maybe it was something that came up during her flashback dream, but she spoke. "Wait...stay a bit...if you can. It seemed...dead," she said. "We could have more coffee and anyway, you shouldn't go back yet, you look rumpled and people will talk," she said.

To be continued....(maybe)

 

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