I Miss Kate
Title: I Miss Kate
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Rinka, OC
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 646
Prompt: Dark Bingo Fill: “Drunkenness/Inebriation”
For Stargatecountry Challenge: Your Stargate Persona
“Now then, Ms Tur, may I call you Rinka? Do you know why you’re here today?” Doctor Jenkins asked as I slumped on the very uncomfortable sofa across from her desk. The Ancients might have been brilliant, but they made the least ergonomic furniture I had ever seen in my life. I think they moved to Scandinavia and their descendants are now working for IKEA.
“Rinka is fine.” I really didn’t want to be there, but orders are orders and I like my job, so I did as I was told and made my mandatory appearance at the counseling session. “I’m here because of the incident in the mess hall the other night.”
I really liked Doctor Heightmeyer better, when she had been here. Doctor Jenkins was too uptight and clinical, not open and comfortable the way Doctor Heightmeyer had been. Her loss had been a blow to us all. I think a lot of people’s drinking got worse after that, not just mine.
“And how do you feel about the incident?”
Something just made me snarky. I can’t help it if my inner child is a total snotnose. “Well, Doc, seeing as how I don’t remember the details of the evening in question, I really don’t have any strong feelings about it. Now the fallout? That I have some definite opinions on.”
“Such as?” So friggin’ clinical, just continuing on with the questions.
“This is a total waste of time. I’m in the middle of an inventory and it needs to be done in time for this databurst so that we get a proper supply shipment when the Daedalus comes next month.”
He made a note on his pad. “You do not feel that your drinking is affecting your job performance?”
“I don’t drink on the job!” Now I was offended, I shifted to the edge of the couch, I didn’t need to sit here and listen to a lecture. I’d had one already from Major Lorne the morning after the ruckus in the mess hall.
“I did not say that you did. How is your drinking affecting other parts of your life?”
Sitting back, I stared at him for a minute and thought about it. “It makes it bearable, when things get overwhelming. Look, I don’t drink on duty nights. It got out of control the other night, the stuff Zelenka brewed up this batch was stronger than usual and I overdid it. I repainted the wall and apologized to Sergeant Stackhouse. He was actually quite flattered that I thought his ass was hot.”
“Most people do not appreciate having their assets painted on walls with graffiti.”
“Have you met Stackhouse?” The doctor rolled his eyes at me. He didn’t get it. Stacks had laughed his very fine and hot ass off at me and offered to help me paint the mess hall wall. But Lorne had given it to me as punishment duty, so I had to decline.
“I see by your records that you have not used a sick day in eight months. This is also the first instance of public drunkenness on record for you. If you need to talk about what is bothering you, we have a staff of counselors, Rinka, please do not turn to alcohol to drown your sorrows, that is a slippery slope.”
I just nodded. I wanted out of there.
“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?”
Not with him. If I needed to talk, I’d go to the greenhouse and talk to David. Or maybe up to Command and see Chuck and Amelia for a while. I really missed Kate Heightmeyer. Sighing as he realized I wasn’t going to say any more, Doctor Jenkins signed off on my form and I booked ass out of his office.
That inventory wasn’t going to do itself. Someone had to count the bullets.
The EndOriginally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Rinka, OC
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 646
Prompt: Dark Bingo Fill: “Drunkenness/Inebriation”
For Stargatecountry Challenge: Your Stargate Persona
“Now then, Ms Tur, may I call you Rinka? Do you know why you’re here today?” Doctor Jenkins asked as I slumped on the very uncomfortable sofa across from her desk. The Ancients might have been brilliant, but they made the least ergonomic furniture I had ever seen in my life. I think they moved to Scandinavia and their descendants are now working for IKEA.
“Rinka is fine.” I really didn’t want to be there, but orders are orders and I like my job, so I did as I was told and made my mandatory appearance at the counseling session. “I’m here because of the incident in the mess hall the other night.”
I really liked Doctor Heightmeyer better, when she had been here. Doctor Jenkins was too uptight and clinical, not open and comfortable the way Doctor Heightmeyer had been. Her loss had been a blow to us all. I think a lot of people’s drinking got worse after that, not just mine.
“And how do you feel about the incident?”
Something just made me snarky. I can’t help it if my inner child is a total snotnose. “Well, Doc, seeing as how I don’t remember the details of the evening in question, I really don’t have any strong feelings about it. Now the fallout? That I have some definite opinions on.”
“Such as?” So friggin’ clinical, just continuing on with the questions.
“This is a total waste of time. I’m in the middle of an inventory and it needs to be done in time for this databurst so that we get a proper supply shipment when the Daedalus comes next month.”
He made a note on his pad. “You do not feel that your drinking is affecting your job performance?”
“I don’t drink on the job!” Now I was offended, I shifted to the edge of the couch, I didn’t need to sit here and listen to a lecture. I’d had one already from Major Lorne the morning after the ruckus in the mess hall.
“I did not say that you did. How is your drinking affecting other parts of your life?”
Sitting back, I stared at him for a minute and thought about it. “It makes it bearable, when things get overwhelming. Look, I don’t drink on duty nights. It got out of control the other night, the stuff Zelenka brewed up this batch was stronger than usual and I overdid it. I repainted the wall and apologized to Sergeant Stackhouse. He was actually quite flattered that I thought his ass was hot.”
“Most people do not appreciate having their assets painted on walls with graffiti.”
“Have you met Stackhouse?” The doctor rolled his eyes at me. He didn’t get it. Stacks had laughed his very fine and hot ass off at me and offered to help me paint the mess hall wall. But Lorne had given it to me as punishment duty, so I had to decline.
“I see by your records that you have not used a sick day in eight months. This is also the first instance of public drunkenness on record for you. If you need to talk about what is bothering you, we have a staff of counselors, Rinka, please do not turn to alcohol to drown your sorrows, that is a slippery slope.”
I just nodded. I wanted out of there.
“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?”
Not with him. If I needed to talk, I’d go to the greenhouse and talk to David. Or maybe up to Command and see Chuck and Amelia for a while. I really missed Kate Heightmeyer. Sighing as he realized I wasn’t going to say any more, Doctor Jenkins signed off on my form and I booked ass out of his office.
That inventory wasn’t going to do itself. Someone had to count the bullets.
The EndOriginally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/