Not-So Jolly Holiday

[Tory Knight 0]

Not-So Jolly Holiday

LTJG Victoria Knight

MAJ Julian de Beresford (NPC)

 

Note: Takes place following the Republic holiday party.

***

 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

 

A wry smile curled across Tory’s lips as she leaned back in her chair. MAJ Julian de Beresford grinned back from her LCARS screen. He was clad in civilian clothes, she noted, towering shelves and antique books stacked behind him. It was a setting she didn’t recognize. “Not having a jolly holiday?” she asked.

 

“Joyous, Lieutenant Knight; simply joyous!” Beresford dropped his tone. “Or as joyous as one can have, surrounded by eccentric aunts, uncles, a sibling, a ne’er-do-well brother-in-law, and a half-dozen nieces and nephews.”

 

“With the way you’ve always talking about your family, I expected ‘home for the holidays’ would be a welcome trip.”

 

“And it truly might be… except for Uncle Evelyn.”

 

Both brows shot up. “Uncle Evelyn?”

 

“Hmm,” Beresford replied, lips thinning. “A dour piece of work that made my early days at Eton a refuge.”

 

Her own lips drew to a line. A small, intelligent boy who, at the age of 12, had yet to catch up with his peers, Julian once told her he held little affection for his first days at the prestigious school. It was until his later forms when he’d discovered rugby, polo, and mischievous friends that things changed for the better. That he preferred the bullying and hazing of those early days spoke volumes about his “Uncle Evelyn.”

 

“Sounds positively charming,” Tory responded. “Your sister is doing well, at least?”

 

“Quite. She and the husband are expecting number seven in May.”

 

“Seven? She’s already got a full team!”

 

“Yes, and once they’re all of age, perhaps they can form their own league. Or tour like the von Trapps.”

 

The junior officer chuckled. “Now, now, Uncle Jules; be nice.”

 

Beresford smiled. “Yes, well, they can carry a tune or two,” he said. “And how are you, out in the great black yonder?”

 

“I’m…coping. There’s a great deal to learn, and our latest feat challenged my mediocre medical knowledge.”

 

“So I won’t be addressing you as ‘Doctor Knight’ any time soon.”

 

“Only in the academic sense. And then only once I’m able to complete my thesis.”

 

The major frowned. “Still struggling?”

 

“A touch,” Tory conceded. “Though, now that our mission is completed, I hope to have time to finish the draft – at least before the next shoe drops.”

 

“And when might that be?”

 

She gave a wry grin. “Any moment now, I suspect. While I appreciate the lapse, it’s been suspiciously quiet for a few days.”

 

“Which can only mean bad things.”

 

“Which can only mean the other shoe is about to drop,” Tory corrected, wry grin widening. “And what about you? When do you make your escape?”

A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes. “I…will be reporting back to barracks tomorrow morning. I thought it might be good for morale if I let the other boys have the New Year.”

 

“Good for yours or theirs, I wonder?” By “boys,” he was of course referring to the junior officers and enlisted Marines under his command. Tory allowed her eyes to mirror his, propping her chin in her palm, elbow on her desk. “Or possibly both,” she added. “A win-win situation: You get to escape the dreaded Uncle Evelyn, and the boys get to cause trouble for the New Year.”

 

Beresford smirked. “Something like that.”

 

“Uncle Jules!” A young female voice broke the long moment of silence between the two. A blur of blonde hair flopped into the Marine’s lap, turning wide blue eyes to the LCARS terminal. “Hallo,” she said. “Who are you?”

 

“Well, aren’t you shy,” Tory replied. “I’m Tory. Who are you?”

 

“My name’s Eleanor,” the little blonde answered, “but my brothers call me Ellie. Mum says it’s ‘cause they’re lazy.”

 

Tory and Beresford both laughed. “They’re boys, love,” the major said. “We’re always lazy.” His eyes flitted over the blonde locks to look at Tory. “Unless highly motivated.”

 

“But you’re not lazy, Uncle Jules! And you promised to take me out in the snow so we could build a fort and hit Tommy with snowballs!”

 

“Well, Major,” Tory said smoothly, “there’s your motivation. You can’t deny a gorgeous little blonde like that.”

 

There was a spark to Beresford’s eyes, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that made her blush. “I much prefer lanky, almost-ginger doctoral candidates. But, as you’re a galaxy away, I suppose I could be persuaded to be the dutiful uncle.”

 

“Very magnanimous of you. Besides, the day will pass much quicker if you go play with your nieces and nephews.”

 

“Yes… and a little less Uncle Evelyn.”

 

Ellie made a face. “I don’t like her, either.” Turning, she looked up at her uncle. “Can we go play in the snow now?”

 

“Yes, Eleanor, we can go play in the snow now. Go get your coat while I say goodbye to Tory.” Lifting the little girl off his lap, Julian set her to her feet. They pounded against the hardwoods as she disappeared back out of frame. “Duty calls, my dear.”

 

“Yes, Major Beresford, you’re needed.” Tory smiled. “Try to have a good time.”

 

“I will. And try to get your thesis done.”

 

Her smile widened. “I will. Happy Christmas, Julian.”

 

“Happy Christmas, Victoria. See you soon.”

 

The image of Julian, set against books and shelves and home disappeared, replaced by the stark, modern lines of the Federation logo. Tory sighed. She hadn’t been homesick until now. Perhaps, if she was lucky, they could wish each other a happy New Year by the end of the week.

***

[STSF_BluRox 0]

What a great log Tory! Thanks for posting!