Best Laid Plans

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Best Laid Plans

CDR Malcolm Alexander (NPC)

Clayton Wydown (NPC)

LTJG Charlotte Matsumura

 

***

 

Somewhere in the aether between waking and sleeping, Malcolm Alexander could hear the repeated chime of his LCARS terminal, signaling an incoming call. He opened his eyes to slits and glanced at the bedside clock. The bright numbers informed him it was after nine. He sighed. He couldn't complain about whomever it was calling too early, then.

 

"Keep your shirt on," he muttered as he tossed back the covers. Rubbing his face, he stumbled across the room to the desk where his LCARS terminal sat. He then flopped unceremoniously into the chair, slapping at the access key. "This had better be important."

 

"Whotcha!" Clayton Wydown grinned into the camera. "Damn, you look like....Up late last night?"

 

"You could say that," Mal replied. "I'd ask why you were so bloody cheerful, but I think I have a pretty good idea."

 

"I don't know have any idea what you're talking about." Clayton feigned looking hurt. "I'm always this chipper in the morning. Early bird, worm, and all that." He flashed another grin. "So, I have a fantastic idea. You're going to meet me for dinner tonight."

 

Clearing his throat, Mal fought the urge to glance back over the bed behind him. "And if I already have plans?"

 

"Change them, mate."

 

Mal hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Clayton --"

 

"No pub hopping. Promise. Just a quiet dinner out. Sushi. You, me, maybe Rue? How many times do you come to Earth, anyway?"

 

"I know; I know. It's been a long while since we've had a chance to commiserate over a pint or twelve," Alexander replied. A smile flickered across his lips as he chuckled, shaking his head. "All right. Dinner it is. The one over by Regents Park?"

 

"Perfect. 8 pm. Or, um, how do you military types call it?"

 

Mal chuckled. Clay had never been Starfleet, and Mal doubted he would ever pick up on the standard lingo. "Twenty-hundred hours."

 

"Excellent." Clayton grinned. "Cheerio!"

 

"Cheerio? You really have been around Rue too much, mate," Mal said. He laughed. "See you tonight."

 

The screen went blank and Mal sighed. With another shake of his head, he pushed himself up out of the chair and made his way back to the bed, crawling back under the covers. A softened smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his gaze fell on the sleeping figure enveloped in the white comforter and pillows beside him.

 

"I take it our plans for tonight have changed?" Charlotte asked. She didn't open her eyes.

 

"Afraid so, love." Reaching over, he gently brushed a lock of dark hair from her face, his fingertips tracing the line of her cheekbone. Her eyes fluttered open and she rolled over onto her back, smiling. His expression mirrored hers as noted her superfluous attempt to keep the covers tucked under her arms. He was still grinning as he lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly across hers. "I'm afraid if we don't meet him, he'll show up unannounced, and that would be a very, very unwelcome interruption."

 

Charlotte sighed as she turned her head, allowing him better access to the curve of her jaw. "S'pose that means we're not ordering in?"

 

"Not tonight," he whispered against her neck, "but I promise to make it up to you."

 

"Hmmm," Lottie murmured. When he lifted his head, he found her lips quirked in a lopsided grin, eyes aglow. The intensity was enough to send a jolt through him. "So long as you promise."

 

***

Edited April 19, 2011 by Charlotte Matsumura