COMMENT FICLETS
My writerbrain needs a jumpstart. So I'm doing that thing I sometimes do where I open myself for ficlet prompts and do my darndest to actually fill them all. Comment with a request and I'll comment back with fic
( Read more... )
That same unfortunate incident had left her collaborating with the CMO, more closely than she had before; the medical and psychological cleanup had run them both ragged. So it's Beverly Crusher, several drinks in, to whom she's singing the praises of the chocolate martini, which might have surprised her a month ago, but one can never quite tell who one's closest friend on a new deployment will be.
Beverly tries the brilliant chocolate, makes a wry face, and orders a very dry red wine. "Too much time around Jean-Luc has turned me into an utter snob," she says, sipping it delicately. "Do you know his family has owned a vinyard for generations?"
"No. That's fascinating." Deanna swirls her martini. "He doesn't speak much of his private life, even with me."
"Mmm, he's like that. Always has been."
"Jean-Luc?" Deanna asks pointedly.
Beverly laughs. "Ah. Well. There's history."
Deanna thinks, unbidden, of Will. Damn it. "History?"
"He was my husband's best friend."
Deanna does her best to ignore the synthehol-tinged wash of complicated emotions dripping off Beverly, and declines to pry.
"What about you and our towering first officer?" Beverly asks, with a hint of mischief. "I don't have to be an empath to tell there's something there."
"Was." Deanna takes a very long drink. "Years ago. Once we were both in Starfleet, we put it on hold, and then when we were assigned to the Enterprise..."
"No shipboard romance?"
Deanna makes a face. "They can get so messy. Believe me, I've dealt with the fallout of more than one."
"Mmm. I see where you're going. Though I served with Jack, back then."
"Marriages are different. Something that long-term and stable tends to survive the hothouse effect." Deanna gestures vaguely with her swizzle-stick. "That's more-or-less a technical term."
"But you and Will are long-term...?"
"And have a rather ridiculous ability to make each other act like stupid teenagers. It would be a bad idea." She shrugs. "Besides, the Enterprise is worth it."
"That she is." Beverly glints at her over her wineglass. "Though in that magical universe where everything works out..."
"Oh, I'm sure in that universe I'm having a very good time." Deanna stares off in the middle distance and unfocuses slightly. She's a little drunk, maybe more than a little drunk, and too relaxed to throw off the synthehol haze. "What about you?"
"Well, it isn't just the shipboard romance matter. Though Jean-Luc would have a fit at the thought of doing anything with his crew...no, that's complicated."
"He seems a complicated man."
"Oh, yes."
"Magnificent, though." Deanna raises her eyebrows, mostly at what just came out of her mouth.
"Mmm." Beverly seems to be matching her state of contented drunkenness. "Especially his voice." She gulps a mouthful of wine. "I must say, I don't quite see what you see in Will. I mean, he's a fine officer, and objectively handsome, though he could really benefit from a beard..."
"No, he's quite straight," Deanna says absentmindedly.
Beverly blinks at her, and they both burst out laughing. "I know what you mean though," Deanna says. "He's got this babyfaced chin. But...oh. I have a weakness for tall, dark, and handsome. And rakish. Don't ever let him know I admit it, but rakish is a wonderful thing where I'm concerned. He's not allowed to know, because he'd just get incorrigible, but..."
"Ah, you put your finger on it. Rakish doesn't actually do much for me." Beverly turns her wineglass, contemplative. "Bit of a turn-off, actually."
Reply
"Well, who?"
Deanna sees where this is going and orders another martini. "Well..." She's quite used to running through crew rosters in her head. Usually not to this end, but... "LaForge?"
"Geordi? Oh, dear. I'd feel like I was cradle-robbing."
"He's not that young. And he's really quite..." Adorably eager was the first thing that came to Deanna's mind. Maybe she'd have to take that back. "Attractive."
Beverly gives her a quick grin of unbridled mischief. "Well, I never knew you felt that way. All right then. Worf?"
Deanna sputters her drink and laughs.
"Tall, dark, and handsome," Beverly prompts.
"You're horrible. And he is. Mmm. So uptight though." Deanna pauses. "May all the powers that be ensure that my mother never hears me uttering those words, or she might explode me with hypocrisy."
Beverly cackles.
"Data," Deanna says, emptying her glass.
Beverly blinks at her. "Is he even...?"
"Fully functional and programmed in multiple techniques. Don't ask me how I know this, I'd have to stonewall you." Yar had been fairly standoffish and defensive whenever Deanna had an appointment with her, but had opened up a little about what had happened under the water-virus influence.
"Oh. Interesting." It's Beverly's turn to stare off fuzzily. "That...that's an intriguing thought."
"Isn't it? He's unique. Completely unique. And such an interesting psychology..." Deanna stops herself from running off a little too much, from elaborating on her private musings on what it would be like to be with somebody with an inorganic mind, no emotional output whatsoever, completely unreadable. Data had almost alarmed her at first--what her eyes and ears told her was a person and her Betazoid hindbrain told her was an empty spot in space. But Deanna had always been the sort to turn fear into intrigue as a way of coping with it, and, well...
"Certainly a handsome body he's got," Beverly murmurs, shaking her out of her own rambling thoughts.
"Certainly," Deanna echoes, grinning. The bartender has deposited another martini with a cryptic cat-smile and drifted off, her strange purple robes wafting after her.
"So, er..." Beverly's searching her own crew roster, Deanna imagines. "Chief O'Brien?"
"Oh, dear," says Deanna. "Not physically attractive. Decent fellow, but...so old-fashioned."
Beverly laughs. "Have you met his girlfriend?"
"Keiko? He's a very lucky fellow." Deanna smiles. "Clearly he must have some hidden talents." They share mischievous smirks. "Lieutenant Yar," Deanna says.
Beverly sputters a little. "Pardon?"
"Tasha Yar. Please don't make me actually utter the phrase 'hot or not'?"
Beverly laughs. "Oh, yes. I'm rather straight. I think. You're not?"
"If you make one Betazoid joke, I'll have to throw something," Deanna says mildly. "And I--primarily, but." Largely because women fierce and, frankly, manly enough to catch her eye were rare.
"I mean, objectively she's quite lovely, I suppose. Though very...hard-edged."
"That's part of her beauty," Deanna says. "She's not...exactly my type, really, but still quite attractive."
"I can't quite see her doing rakish, no."
"Rare is the woman who can pull off rakish."
Beverly laughs. "Well, if it's going that way, then..." She pauses, leans close, and motions to the bartender.
Deanna blinks, thinks of that cryptic smile and the way her hindbrain can't quite process the woman's presence, gives her only a vague sense of something wise and enigmatic and ancient...
"Oh, out of my league!"
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment