Elevator Music

[Quintin M'guire 0]

Through the dim night-watch lights, Quintin watched the young sleeping yeoman for any stirrings of movement as he buttoned up the collar on his uniform. Jaysus, she snores like a bleedin' hacksaw, he thought to himself while he slipped into his boots, forgetting to fasten the laces as he crept for the door.

 

His hip caught the edge of a credenza, and he let out a yelp, rubbing his leg. "Is that you, Quin-Quin?" came a soft, groggy voice from behind him and Quintin cringed for a moment before turning around with an insincere smile. "Aye, ‘s me,” he replied, looking the woman over appraisingly. She was a beauty to be sure, but dumb as a doornail and had the spirit of a babe begging for attention. If he didn't make some excuse quick, she'd be asking him to come back to bed for a cuddle. Shuddering at that thought, he picked up a PADD that had been carelessly discarded on the floor and looked at it. "Oi, would ye look at the time. I need to get meself up to da bridge."

 

"You don't have to go on for another hour, don't you?" The young P.O. inquired, sitting up in bed and pulling a sheet up to her shoulders.

 

"Oi, not today…erm…the skipper wants me in early for...uhhh, a propulsion diagnostic," Quintin stuttered. He knew the lie was as apparent as if he had come right out and said it was false. Creeping back over to her side of the bed he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll give ye a buzz later." He hadn’t waited for much of a reply before quickly stepping out the door and into the corridor. Looking in both directions he sighed, "Fer Pete's sake, which way to the turbolift?"

 

Picking a direction at a mental flip of a coin, he hurried off, eager to be on his way no matter where to. It was only a few moments before he arrived at the turbolift, and saw a short-statured woman with red hair standing with her back to him there. He wouldn't need to see her face to know it was that Suffolk woman, and he cursed quietly to himself before he approached the turbolift, whistling as though he didn't have a care. "Ahh, if it isn't Miss Navigator. A fine day to ye, ma'am."

 

H.G. stiffened at the sound of that voice, her spine going rigid, her posture straightening even more, if that were possible. Slowly turning her head, she acknowledged his greeting with a curt nod before turning back to stare straight ahead at the turbolift doors.

 

Quintin grinned in spite of himself, and wondered to himself whether this woman was ever in a decent mood. "What's got ye all knackered up, eh? Not had yer morning tea yet?"

 

“I’ve had my tea, thank you; I am just attempting to exercise some self-control and curb myself when it comes to baser instincts, which is more than may be said for you,” she retorted hotly.

 

"Oi, ye can stall it right there. What the blazes ye be talkin' about? At least I'm not the commander’s pet, trying to be e'reone's better," he riposted, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leering down at the young woman.

 

“I am not attempting to be better than anyone else! If I am a good officer who adheres to my duty and lives by the Starfleet code of conduct, that shouldn’t be any of your concern! And furthermore, you can’t pretend to not know what I am speaking of. Enlisted personnel? Honestly M’Guire, did you even attempt to pay attention while they were training you to be an officer?”

 

Quintin wagged a brawny finger at Reed, a scowl playing across his features. "What I do in me own time is me own business, and ye can keep yer powdered nose out of it." It was then that the turbolift doors swished open, and a blonde petty officer carrying a stack of PADDs stepped out. Quintin quieted for a moment and gave the young woman an approving glance as she walked by.

 

“Sexist pig,” H.G. muttered as she stepped into the now-deserted turbolift. “Probably chases after anything in a skirt.”

 

Quintin's gaze finally returned to the now empty space where Reed had been standing, only after the Yeoman had turned a corner out of sight. The turbolift doors had begun to close by the time he jumped into the lift shoulder first and leaned against the wall with his arms folded, avoiding looking at Reed altogether.

 

H.G. was silent for a beat before giving in to temptation. “Do you have any morals at all, M’Guire, or were you raised by alley cats?”

 

"Nay, I wish it were so, but me 'rents are quite respectable, actually. And, eh, I warned ye, didin't I? Ye best get on the ball if ye want a piece of the pie," Quintin said with a laugh, sidling closer to the woman and leaning towards her with a leer. The grin that played across his lips had more than a little mirth, and his intentions were set on getting a rise out of the navigator.

 

Letting out an exasperated breath she pushed him away. “Why is it that when a woman shows a man the least bit of contempt, he automatically deludes himself into thinking she is subtly flirting with him?” she muttered, more to herself than anything else. “Let me put this in such a plain and cliché manner that even a Philistine such as yourself can understand it...Never going to happen, not in your wildest dreams and fantasies, not if we were the last two humans alive and needed to repopulate the species! I would take up with a Klingon, or defect to the Romulan Empire, before I even considered someone as uncouth and ill-mannered as you!” She managed to shove past him and move to the other side of the turbolift, trying to put some space between them, muttering “Your gall is astounding to even insinuate that I...and to think your father is much worse!”

 

It took a few moments for what she had said at the last to sink in. His scowl abruptly returned with a fire in his eyes that had not been there before, and the Irish flew from his tongue, "Go hifreann leat, ag fein truaillaithe! How dare ye insult my father! You know nothing of him!"

 

“That is what you think,” she retorted hotly before realizing what she had said and hastily averting her gaze, conscience stinging.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Quintin looked her over. "What do ye mean by that, eh?! What do you know of my father?"

 

She was quiet for a moment, steeling herself for what was about to come. Shifting slightly, she held out the data PADD she had been clutching behind her back. “The comm relief accidently dispatched this with the reports and transmissions yesterday,” she began contritely, though her tone took on an air of defiance as she added, “I didn’t realize what it was until I had already read it.”

 

"You did what!?" Quintin raged as he snatched the PADD from her hands and perused it, not really reading the text. "I don't suppose ye have an aunt who goes by Catherine. How do ye manage to read something without knowing what yer reading! You, you, you...snoop! I knew you were a snobby, trite woman, but I never thought ye might be such a sketch!"

 

H.G. bristled at the insult. “Now wait a minute. It was an honest mistake. I had no idea it was a personal letter and I am very sorry, but you’ve no call for speaking to me in such a manner! Such incredible cheek, especially coming from one such as yourself who never met a rule he didn’t break! You bloody arrogant git! How you even got into the academy, graduated, and got this assignment is beyond me. Clearly you are no better than the man who sired you!”

 

Quintin’s face turned red with rage and his eyes narrowed.