Drabble prompts!

[igrockspock]

This week's drabble prompts are brought to you by Anne Taintor, maker of snarky magnets featuring vintage images of vindictive housewives and women behaving badly. Each prompt comes with both a picture and a caption, and while most are related to domestic or sexual situations, please feel free to explore and interpret them however you like.

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Number One, TOS, Guess where I'm tattooed

[igrockspock]

Two years and eleven days into her command, a band of seventeen tiny stars encircles her left thigh. Three are blue, five are gold, and nine are red. They joke about it down in operations - the red shirt's always the first to die, maybe you should pick up a blue tunic from ship store's before the away mission. But it's true. Security's always the first on the ground. Security's always taking the hits meant for her. Each of the stars has a name: McAdams, Chang, Seekins, Kal-bevek... She remembers the date too, and the story, what she said to their husbands and wives and parents and children on recorded subspace transmissions. She hates that the ship is always too far out for a live feed.

Seekins would've had a crass joke or two about finally being on her thigh -- not that he ever would have said such a thing to her face. He has a point though, or he would if he could still speak. The location is more sensuous than she would have liked. But she'd wanted some place she could see. Some place she would have to see, really. And some place nobody else could see, unless she showed them.

"You know," Chris says, running a finger over the stars, "if you had one of these for every life you saved, your whole damn body would be covered."