Ruminations, SD 2259.345

[STSF_Scooter 0]

Audraya was in her quarters, her M-1911 in pieces sitting on an old towel on her desk for cleaning. Bing Crosby’s voice filled the room, as the terminal shuffled through several old Christmas albums. Christmas is coming, and I need to get Tifa something. I also need to talk to Doc about her. She snorted, picking up a tumbler with Maker’s Mark on ice. Sipping the bourbon, she sighed slightly. My biggest concern for her is her mental well-being. Morohtar was right, the bastard. She is soft and fluffy, and cuddly, everything I’m not. But that’s why I love her; she compliments and completes me. I’m hard because I was brought up in a slave society, fought the bullies in my high school class, dealt with both Captain Barnett and Marines during my first postings along with Klingons, and I’m the disciplinarian aboard the ship.

 

Its not like there aren’t times I want to put my hair down, and relax, Lord knows I’m tired of the front I have to keep up. Hell, its not like I even care what the rest of the crew thinks about Tifa and I. And, yeah, Crash was right, I was thinking with my emotions, and I do every day I see her. I see the young woman I want to be with, spend my off hours with, and maybe even spend the rest of my life with. And it damn well was worth it breaking regulations and going off on my own after her. Morohtar’s no longer a thorn in my side, and I got Tifa back hale and hearty. She set her glass down, the ice clinking, and hit the intercom on her desk.

 

“Commander Wesley to Doctor T’Aral. Doc, I’ve got a question for you.”