Misery Loves Company

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Misery Loves Company*

LCDR Mark Garrison

LTJG Charlotte Matsumura

 

*Note: Takes place immediately following 28 March sim.

 

***

 

Matsumura quirked a brow at her division officer. "Dare I ask who piddled in your beer?"

 

"Victria, of course." Finishing his shot of whiskey, he reached for the bottle and poured another.

 

His comment acknowledged her suspicions about the two, but she said nothing. Instead, she asked, "Bad furlough, then?"

 

 

 

"Ha!" He chuckled, taking another sip. "Bad is a mild word when it comes to her. Disaster, or doomed from the start might be more appropriate. This fool's death trap of a holosuite didn't help matters any." He gestured over to Travis.

 

The not so innocent barkeep attempted his best shocked and innocent face, before moving away to somewhere he couldn't be blamed for all of Mark's woes.

 

Charlotte passed rueful smile to Travis as the barkeep beat his retreat. She then refocused her attention on her division officer. "Well, I can listen, if you care to talk, or I can simply sit here and enjoy my tea, and offer your misery some company. It's your choice, of course."

 

"You're skilled enough to fill both those roles I'd imagine, I haven't seen anything you can't do yet. No talking about vacations, or beaches, or jungles for that matter. I have shore leave yet to spend, and intend to spend it forgetting the last day." With that he finished off his glass, and moved to pour another one, however the nearly empty bottle only produced a tiny sip, which he took with a grunt.

 

Charlotte turned, signalling silently to Travis. He seemed to understand, nodded, then disappeared around the corner. Looking back to Garrison, she shook her head. "Thank you for the compliment; I only wish it were true." She swirled the last of her tea in the bottom of her cup. "Closer inspection would reveal the shortcomings, I assure you."

 

At that moment, the barkeep returned, this time with two cups of tea. Charlotte drained the last of hers as he placed a cup before both herself and Mark. She nodded her thanks before nudging the warm cup toward the senior officer.

 

"I can think of better ways of spending your shoreleave, than drowning your sorrows."

 

He took a sip of the tea, appreciating it against the burn of whiskey. "Hmm, this is good. See, a taste for tea as well. You've got your work cut out for you to prove to me the flaws of Charlotte Matsumura," He let out a small chuckle. "Anyway, what did you have in mind?"

 

"Well, there's always training; and, if things aren't entirely busted between yourself and Victria, then perhaps a little dining and dancing?" She watched him over the rim of her cup. "I get the impression a human-style 'date' might be intriguing to her."

 

"Hmm...No, no Victria. I've learned in the past just to let her be, the pieces usually fall where they need to. Besides, my collar bone is broken, and my hand played the part of tasty treat for a deep sea eel, I'm not in much condition for dancing," He produced the aforementioned hand, and while it had mostly healed, the damage was evident. "That, and I don't dance."

 

Charlotte couldn't hide the surprise that played briefly across her features. Their line of work ensured that he, like most security officers, could endure injuries. This was perhaps beyond the pale, however.

 

 

She forced a smile. "The dancing -- well, that's a shame. Perhaps you could spend some time learning. As to the injuries," she said, pausing and reaching over the bar for the medkit, "I think I could understand your beverage selection." "No, no, no," He shooed her arm away with his good hand. "I'm fine, and I don't need you doctoring me up in the middle of the Grail, everyone around here snoops and gossips too much."

 

"Besides," he sighed. "Travis would never let me live it down."

 

Charlotte paused, tricorder in hand, brow arched. "And you think he's going to let you live this down?" She gestured to the room at large, as though to indicate Victria, the holosuite, and the bottle of whiskey.

 

He glanced around with a scowl. "No, I suppose not, but why add insult to injury?" Pausing, he refocused his attention to Charlotte. "Not that you're an insult to...err..." Another sigh. "You know what I mean."

 

The younger officer gave a snort. "I think I do." She closed the medkit and sat for a long moment regarding him. "You won't let me treat you here; what are my chances of getting you to medical?"

 

"Slim, but...there is something to be said for the attempt." He smirked, and tapped his glass to the empty bottle, causing the glass to resonate.

 

"Even if I said they'd give you a lolly?"

 

He chuckled. "Charlotte, I'm nearly thirty-three years old. You'll have to find something better then a lolly to intice me." He finished his tea, setting it on the bar with an amused grin.

 

"Pity. You're acting as stubborn as a toddler." She returned the amused grin. It faded slightly as she mentally chose another tack. "How about a failing of Charlotte Matsumura?"

 

"Stubborn as a toddler…sir." He chuckled again, drunk enough not to be bothered by it. "A failing of the lovely Miss Matsumura? Sure, shoot. This should be interesting."

 

Charlotte shook her head. "Not until we get to medical." She nodded to indicate the door, smiling sweetly. "You first."

 

"Oh, you're good. Very good." He grunted as he pushed off the stool, wobbling a bit in his first steps, then leading her out into the promenade once he was sure of his ability to walk.

 

***

 

Charlotte leaned against the nearby bulkhead, arms folded across her chest. It had been a long walk down to the infirmary -- long enough to leave her second-guessing herself. Why the frell had she volunteered herself in such a way? She sighed inwardly. She knew better than most that Garrison would have suffered through the next few days, possibly caving once they were finally back aboard ship. A wound like that eel bite, however, and the broken clavicle needed immediate attention. She chalked her volunteer effort up to concern for someone who, in a relatively short time, seemed to be becoming a friend.

 

The medical attendant administered a few instructions, wrapping up the visit. As she stood there, absently listening, she wondered what "shortcoming" she would offer as a bribe.

 

Mark emerged, rotating his shoulder for good measure. His hand was back to normal but his disposition hadn't seemed to improve. "Doctors, the annoyance of the galaxy. You know the first thing he says to me? 'Quit drinking'. Quit drinking!" He glanced back towards the closed doors. "If I wanted that, I'd gone and seen a counselor!"

 

She met her division officer with a lopsided smile, falling into step next to him. "He's one to talk. He was three sheets at the table next to us the last time we put in."

 

He let out a good laugh as he walked along in a (mostly) straight line. "See that's what I'd like about you. Victria, she'd lecture, give me that sour frown. You're fun Matsumura, or at least you know when to not argue with your division lead."

 

"Not so much that," Charlotte replied with a snort, "as knowing a lost cause when I see one." She tempered the comment with a grin. "Besides... I figure the headache you'll have tomorrow will lecture well enough on its own."

 

"All good things... Well, I've held up my end of the deal, now its your turn. A real, truthful failing of Charlotte Matsumura, presented by none other then Charlotte Matsumura." He chuckled slightly, apparently thinking that comment witty.

 

"Indeed." They paused before the lift and Charlotte clasped her fingers behind her back. "A true failing of Charlotte Matsumura..." She pursed her lips, mind whirling through all the embarassing moments in her life, through the psych eval Garrison undoubtedly saw in her personnel file.

 

She knew both signalled one, massive universal truth about herself. " I think the headquarters shrink said something about being uneasy in social situations." A nervous laugh escaped her. "Rather like now, I'd suspect."

 

The lift arrived, and the stepped in. Mark took a moment to look her over, seemingly trying to tell if she was being truthful. Once he had his decision, he glanced forward. "Fair enough. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a loner myself. Never much felt the need for an overabundance of friends, because most of those friends are merely aquantances in the end. If it's any compliment, you hide it well. All those witty retorts and comebacks, I could've pictured you as the life, and center of any party."

 

Charlotte shook her head. "Like you, I've found I've many acquaintances and very few true friends," she said. "The witty retorts and come backs...they work a bit like deflector shields."

 

"Ah," He nodded in understanding. "Only question that comes to mind then, is why tell me? Seems like a rather personal admission. Not quite sure, if our positions were switched, I'd have done the same thing."

 

"Because I'm good at taking chances, just not on people. In order to change that, I have to take a chance on someone who might turn out to be... okay."

 

"Well, glad to know someone thinks I'll turn out okay." He turned to her with a joking smile. "Well, I wasn't expecting something major like that, so I suppose I'll return the favor, so you don't feel like your left hanging out in the wind. A failing of Mark Garrison...hmm."

 

The lift doors opened, depositing them in a hallway. "Ah, I've got one. You may not believe this, but I'm something of a prankster. Sometimes too much for my own good. Remember three weeks ago, when Lieutenant Beckman was flirting with the new ensign on gamma shift, leaned back and his chair gave way?" A chesire grin formed on his face. "That was me. Every few months, I sneak into security in the middle of the night, and mess around with his chair. Why you might ask? Because he leans too much. That, and it's funny."

 

Charlotte chuckled. It had been funny, and not the first time she'd seen Beckman take a fall. He was right -- Beckman did lean too much: in his chair, against the bulkheads, on the said new ensign on gamma shift. "Now I see why you and Travis get on so well." There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone, eyes showing some amusement. They also showed her appreciation of his taking her admission in stride.

 

"Ah Travis. You know, we probably ran over 100 miles in disciplinary runs during our four years in the academy. He's got that quality, that you can despise and admire him at the same time I suppose. Still, I owe him alot." He trailed off, looking a bit uncomfortable, as if there was more he was going to say, but decided against it.

 

"Bail credits?" She raised her brows, attempting to lighten the mood.

 

"Something like that." Mark let out a small smile as they continued to walk.

 

Somehow, in their meandering path after leaving sickbay, the two had found familiar territory: The temporary BOQ -- bachelor officers' quarters. The surroundings reminded Charlotte of her evening plans. Flipping her wrist, she glanced at the time. She still had over an hour before meeting Mal. Which was good -- she found she wasn't necessarily in a hurry to part company with Garrison... And then there was the small fact that he probably shouldn't be left to his own devices at the moment.

 

"My...quarters are around the next turn. Care to come in for a cup of tea?"

 

"Sure," He said nonchalantly, as they turned the quarter. "You'll have to give me the tour, I've never actually used one of these temp quarters. I always stay on Excalibur."

 

Charlotte chuckled. "Not much difference, really," she replied, keying her entry code. The doors parted with a hiss, and she gestured. "A little larger, but equally as spartan."

 

Entering first, she made a direct line for the replicator. "Make yourself at home -- as much as you can, at any rate." She paused over the controls and looked back over her shoulder at him. "What blend would you prefer?"

 

"What you gave me before is fine, unless you want to try to go two for two in guessing my taste in tea," Mark gave her a playful smirk, before roaming about the quarters abit, taking them in. She was right, they weren't much better then Excalibur's. All the more reason to stay on the ship. Walking past her bedroom, he noticed a rather elegant dress laid out on the bed. "Charlotte...don't tell me I'm ruining your plans."

 

Two cups of tea in her hands, Charlotte turned, noting Mark's attention span. She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. I've got over an hour before I have to be anywhere."

 

"Good, I'd hate to have ruined your evening..." Mark trailed off, taking a sip of the tea after Charlotte handed it to him, nodding in approval. "Still, judging by that dress, I'd say whatever is in an hour looks to be important." A playful grin appeared. "Do you have a date, Charlotte? Oh, is it that man you were with in the Grail?"

 

She chuckled. "He's a friend of Papa's, so hardly a date. I think, most of the time, he takes pity on me. A good dance partner is so very hard to find these days."

 

"Ah, well perhaps I'll have to learn to dance yet." He gave her a bit of a smirk, before moving back into the living area, sinking into the couch with a relaxed 'Ahh'.

 

Charlotte passed him his tea. "We could make it a department-wide event. It does help with hand and eye coordination, after all," she commented over the rim of her cup.

 

He chuckled, hoping it was a joke. "God, could you imagine the site of that. We'd look like the goofiest bunch of officers in the fleet."

 

The junior officer struggled to keep her expression casual. "It's either that or the overstuffed sumo suits." She sipped her tea. "Team building and all that?"

 

"Sure, call it team building. They'll all be at each others throats by the end. Tell me something, your not just trying to make me look stupid to steal my job are you?" He said in a joking tone, turning towards her with a grin.

 

"Sorry, sir... But I definitely don't want your job. I have my hands full enough with my own." She gave him a smile. It faded slightly as she diverted her attention to her tea cup before looking back up at him. "Are you going to be all right?"

 

He raised a brow slightly, wondering what role in Excalibur's security department had her hands so full. She didn't seem to be having any issues. "Sure, I'll be fine. I think that damned doctor slipped me something to neutralize some of the alcohol. I suppose you'll be wanting to get ready?"

 

"Fine" didn't quite cut it with her but, as with his past escapades with Travis, Garrison didn't seem inclined to discuss the matter farther. Her lips thinned. "I probably should. But, as a fellow crew mate, I have to make sure you're not going to try and crawl back into the bottle. You might undo all the medical handywork." She gave a smile that didn't hide the concern in her eyes.

 

He gave her a sincere smile, while resting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to take the long back to Excalibur and call it a night. There's plenty of leave left, and I intend to get to it tomorrow, not spend all day nursing a hang over."

 

Charlotte paused, studying his expression. His body language seemed to mirror his sincerity, upper body open as his hand rested on her shoulder. She returned the smile after a long moment. "Be careful out there, Lieutenant." The smile slipped lopsided. "No more holosuites. Well, no more of Travis' holosuites."

 

"Probably no holosuites with Victria would be safe enough, but I see where you're going. He chuckled, and stood, taking a moment to appreciate the starfield out the window. "Well Charlotte, I hope you have a more pleasant evening on the dance floor, than you did, dragging this old drunk around."

 

"Be careful out there." He smirked with a mocking tone.

 

She chuckled. "It's been an...educational...chat with said old drunk. Besides, if I were careful? I'd have joined the sciences."

 

"Good girl." He said with a chuckle, and sauntered out of the quarters, in a mostly straight line.

 

***