As Time Goes By

[Quintin M'guire 0]

Sitting on the edge of a barstool, Quintin sat watching the action on the beach from behind the rim of a half-empty beer glass. There being plenty of shoreline on Pacifica, the beach wasn't very crowded, and he could still pick out the familiar faces of the Challenger crew among the revelers. He was paying particular attention to a game that involved hitting an inflated ball into the air and keeping the opposing team from knocking it down. Tilting the glass back, Quintin drained the last of the dark, bitter liquid and set it down on the bar. Thanks to an attentive bartender, it was full again before the sound of glass hitting wood reached the other end of the small lean-to on the beach.

 

"Hello," a voice whispered seductively in his ear from behind him.

 

Pretending to jump, Quintin spun around on his stool and wrapped an arm tantalizingly around Melanie's waist. "Well, 'ello there, gorgeous," he said with a grin, giving her an appraising look before handing her a tall glass rimmed with salt and filled with a concoction of fruity liquor and ice.

 

Melanie giggled and slid easily into the handsome Starfleet officer's embrace, letting her lithe, tanned body brush up against his with practiced confidence. "‘Ello there," she responded, parroting his accent with a giggle, and winked as she gratefully accepted the drink he offered her. It had been over a year since she had last met Quintin M'Guire (if you didn't count last night's activities), but he was still a charmer. "Enjoying Pacifica?"

 

Grinning ear to ear, Quintin lounged back in his chair and took another sip of his beer before looking up at the beautiful woman at his side. "Oh, I'm going on quite fine, thank ye. Couldn't be better," he said with a wider grin and a wink.

 

Melanie giggled again and brushed his hair behind his ear. "Well, I could think of one way you could..." Taking a sip of her drink, she turned slightly in the curve of his arm. tracing her finger down his chest, and looked past him out at the beach. "Unless you've got plans for the day..."

 

He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and pulled her closer. His plan for the day included a couple more bitters and a few hours of lying on his back in the hotel pool, but most of that went out of his mind at her slight implication. Sitting up he chuckled and leaned forward to nibble on her neck. "Oh, what'd ye have in mind?"

 

Melanie flashed a row of very white teeth as she smiled, leaning forward and pulling him closer by his shirt front, whispering an answer lost in the chatter of the groups around them. Anyone watching, however, would have had no difficulty in discerning her meaning, as she pushed him back against the bar, nipping at his jaw gently before kissing him deeply.

 

H.G. entered the beachside pub and pulled off the dark glasses that had been protecting her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. Removing her wide brimmed panama hat, she moved towards the bar, looking around for the proprietor. She had forgotten to pick up some water prior to leaving the hotel on her way down to the tide pools and it wouldn't do to get dehydrated on her first day of leave. Looking around she saw that the pub was fairly deserted for midday, though there were an assortment of individuals scattered around at various tables and a lone couple at the bar, obviously engaged in planning a passionate rendezvous. Amused, she stopped at the bar a short ways down from the pair, looking for the attendant.

 

Quintin forcibly but playfully pushed Melanie back with a firm hand on her hip and made a show of gasping for air. "Jaysus, Mel, you sure know how to put the heart crossways on someone...” His voice slowly trailed off as his eyes drifted to his side to the short-statured red head standing a little ways off, and he turned his head quickly with a quietly muttered oath.

 

Recognizing the Irish accent, H.G. grimaced, realizing that the man beside her was not just some nameless Lothario, but Challenger's helmsman, Quintin M'Guire. Suddenly, and irrationally, feeling irritated at having witnessed yet another one of his amorous trysts, she stepped back, hoping to leave the pub before he noticed her and the situation devolved into one of their now infamous arguments. She had promised herself she would stop allowing the horrid man get under her skin, as his behavior should have no effect on her. Thoughts of escape came too late, however; he had already spotted her.

 

As the full scope of the situation came to light, he suddenly felt uneasy and went into a fit of coughing, picking up his glass and draining half of it before snapping hoarsely, "Miss Navigator..." His expression went from chagrin to angry mortification. "What're ye standing there looking at me for? I was just..."

 

H.G. interrupted him, growing more irritated at not having escaped. "You were doing what you usually do, M'Guire, which is finding a bit of fun wherever it may be had. You don’t owe me any explanations, I already know you too well to be at all shocked. "

 

For once in his life, Quintin almost felt defeated and at a loss for words. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he was embarrassed, and why this woman had such disdain for him; being hated certainly wasn't something he was used to. But as always, pride welled up inside of him and he gripped Melanie's waist more firmly, though his blithesome exterior, his mask, quickly returned. "Now, you needn't be so quick to judge, lass. It's bleedin' shore leave, for pity's sake. Why don't ye get off your damned high chariot for once and stop puttin' people off all the bloody time?"

 

Temper rising, H.G. glared at him before replying in scathing tones. "As much as I might put people off, as you suggest, at least I can be happy with who I am rather than trying to define myself by having meaningless and shallow relationships."

 

Rising from his stool Quintin loomed to his full height. "Meaningless and shal…" With a scoff he turned away from Reed, draining the last of his glass and setting it back on the bar with a loud thump. This time the bartender made no move to refill his glass, standing against the far side of the bar, drying a dish with a white bar cloth and looking somewhat bemused.

 

Melanie, who had been watching this exchange with a slightly befuddled look, tugged on Quintin's sleeve as he pulled away, and gave the newly-arrived woman a pouting look. "Hey, Miss whoever-you-are...no one asked you your opinion!" Grabbing Quintin's chin firmly she turned him to look at her and away from Reed. "Ignore her, M'Guire...we've got better things to do than listen to that."

 

Quintin's chin turned and he looked into Melanie's eyes for a moment, before taking her hand and managing a brief toothy smile. "Ye know, I'm so hungry I could eat the lamb o' Jaysus through the rungs of a chair. I think I smell something good over there." Releasing her hand, he turned off and walked out of the small lean-to and off of the beach, kicking a tuft of sand into the air when he was out of sight.

 

"Of all the..." H.G. sputtered, watching him walk away before turning her eyes to Melanie and looking her over, as if noticing her for the first time. "Listen, lady, although I use that term somewhat loosely, I didn't come in here to interrupt your little tête-à-tête. In fact, I would be perfectly happy had I never run into either of you. What you two do is your own business. Unlike you, I am not one of his floozies; I just have to work with the brute." Turning, Reed stalked out, jamming her hat back onto her head and the pushing the sunglasses back onto her face.