| [ Cir'Cie's Quarters | USS Theurgy | Azure Nebula ]
The timer went off....Kaylon rolled over and saw the display. 0745. It had been a while since he'd slept that late, especially recently with all the repairs to the Cayuga going on. He had been at the forefront of the effort. It had been even longer since he had spent the night in the company of a beautiful woman.
Turning his head, he saw Cir'Cie asleep beside him. The Vulcan had surprised him with her willingness to spend time socially with him. He had met her in the Theurgy's mess hall while eating lunch there after a meeting with the Theurgy's engineering staff to go over some further needs that the Cayuga had. She had seemed friendly enough, for a Vulcan. He had heard she was a botanist, so he spoke about native Trill plant life, including the Ter'anakul plant, used to create Kaylon's favorite dessert, The Ter'ana Souffle. She had, if the term could be applied to a Vulcan, eagerly tasted the leaves of the sweet plant when he replicated one last night. After that, she had become actually friendly. Kaylon had assumed that Cir'Cie had appreciated the interest he showed in her scientific specialty. Botany was not one of the sciences that many paid a lot of attention to, outside of terraforming and crop sciences.
Looking around, somewhat bleary eyed, thanks to the other thing they had shared from the Ter'anakul plant..Terran Bourbon. He, more than her, but the repairs had been going well with no major setbacks or alien attacks, so Kaylon had felt like celebrating.
The end result, they had wound up in bed together.
Now it was time for him to get dressed and get back to the Cayuga. He sat up, and turned toward her, trying to think of something to say so he wouldn't seem like the Wham, Bam, Thank you ma'am type, but he had to get going. There was a plasma inducer he still needed to repair and realign before noon.
He opened his mouth to say something, when she looked up at him.
When Cir'Cie opened her green eyes, she wished she hadn't. Her face grew stiff as she carefully controlled the impulse to crumple her face up in answer to the pounding headache. As it were, she just stared into the ceiling, lying perfectly still so that no sudden movements might further increase the agony.
She heard the Trill move around, and she was reminded about her mistake. She had been so intrigued by the Ter'anakul plant and its unknown properties that she'd agreed to the Trill convention of eating them. Little had she guessed just how rich in sucrose the Ter'anakul plant was. Before she knew it, her careful control on her emotions had begun to slip, her inhibitions and sense of propriety gone, and the last thing she remembered before passing out, was having intense sexual relations with the Trill that had provided her with the Ter'anakul plant.
"I should be on the bridge," she said to the Trill, and then she moved her eyes - and only her eyes - to the chronometer. "Incorrect. I should be on the bridge in fourteen minutes and forty seconds."
She blinked - once - still disinclined to move. She knew she had no choice, but she was not ready yet. How could she - as a botanist - not have foreseen the lunacy of ingesting an unknown plant? She had even been a victim of the Niga virus, and now, she was the victim of another plant entirely. She took a couple of deep breaths, the sense of propriety keeping her from slipping out from underneath the twisted sheets.
"I believe... I require assistance," she said evenly, the motion of blinking again sending sharp spikes of pain across her temples. "Would you please replicate water for me, and... collect my garments. I am positive I will experience vertigo if I stand up."
Kaylon smiled and turned to her replicator. "Of course," he said, "Computer, Water. five degrees." Kaylon couldn't tell for sure, but there was a note of regret in the way she winced.
Taking the water glass from the replicator and giving a brief wistful sigh at how much he had missed using one for so long, he turned back toward the bed, and as he walked, bent down and scooped up her clothes. "Here you go," he said as he handed her the requested items. He stood there, awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. Over two centuries worth of experiences and memories, more than half of them as a woman, and Kaylon still couldn't figure them out. He wished he had thought to ask those kinds of questions several years ago during his Zhian'tara, but no, he had spent the time talking with Amina and Menara's personalities about their careers and asking technical questions instead of delving into the interpersonal dynamics of dealing with the fairer sex. He did know one thing though. The awkward silences were never a good thing.
"I think I had a little too much Terran Bourbon, last night. How about you?" he asked, wincing inwardly, and trying like hell not to wince outwardly. Great! You big idiot! Just come out and say 'oh wow, I got drunk last night or I never would have done...that'.
"Erm..that didn't come out right. I'm sorry. Last night was a great experience for me, and you too, I hope," and he stopped abruptly and awkwardly thinking, Oh gods..could I sound any more pathetic..maybe I should get out of here and get back to the Cayuga.
"Do you think I could borrow a phaser, so I can just put myself out of my awkward misery and not have to think of the right thing to say so I don't sound like a jerk or did the old wham bam, thank you ma'am?" he quipped. "We both know I have to get back to the Cayuga, but ..."
Ugh... He was doing it again!
"Yeah...where's your phaser?" he asked again, blushing from his spots to his toes with embarrassment.
As soon as she made her request, Cir'Cie was certain she had made a mistake. To sip the water that the Engineer was getting for her, she would have to sit up. Not to mention donning her uniform. She was also certain that she would never wear the same uniform that she had discarded in the haste of initiating coitus with the Trill either. She realised that she was, actually, in her own quarters, so she would wear something that did not reek with the perspiration of the day before.
Still, she had made the request already, her thoughts entirely too muddled by the effects of the Trill plant. So when the Trill returned, talking, and talking, and talking, Cir'Cie had no choice but to gingerly sit up in her bed, balling her olive-skinned hand around the twisted blanket in order to preserve a modicum of propriety. Her head span, but as if on its own, she saw her free hand reach for the glass of water, and she sipped it. With the latent tastes of the previous night still in her parched mouth, the water tasted rancid, but her higher brain functions told her that there was no choice. She needed to rehydrate. So she continued to sip, swallowing with her thick throat, whilst trying to keep herself from telling the Trill to speak more quietly.
A great experience? Then why does he wish to kill himself? Out of embarrassment? As leaden as her thoughts were, she could not quite make sense of the contradictory ramblings. She turned her eyes towards him, keeping her face as serene as she could given the circumstances. 'Wham... Bam?'
"My apologies, I do not keep a phaser in my quarters," she said, her voice a bit hoarser than usually, thinking that it was likely a consequence of how vocal she had been before she fell asleep. Rather, fell unconscious, if she'd be more truthful in her semantics. "I am aware that you have duties. So have I. This predicament is something we share, and I would require your assistance, since I am clearly in a less healthy state than you are."
Cir'Cie finished her water, slowly put the glass aside, and moved to stand. Very, very slowly, since it felt like her head weighed as much as her whole body. "As for whatever hopes you hold towards me finding this experience 'great', I find that this current moment has put a damper on the overall impression."
Saying as much, she had managed to stand, still holding the blanket to her chest with one hand. "Would you please replicate a new uniform for me instead, Lieutenant Jeen? I find that the one I wore yesterday is unfit to wear. I will also require undergarments, and another glass of water."
Having said as much, unwilling to use her dry mouth for another syllable, Cir'Cie slowly, gingerly, stepped towards her sonic shower, since the post-coitus scents that rose from her skin were gagging, and she preferred not adding to the stench through immediate emesis. As for the involuntary display of her backside towards the Trill, it was pushed the bottom tier of her priorities. In reassessment of the situation, the engineer had already seen far more, and whatever modesty she'd cling to seemed redundant.
He helped her move to the lavatory and as the door closed, he turned back to his own clothes.
Duh! Kaylon could feel his face heating. Rambling like he was only made things worse, and a Vulcan most likely wouldn't have had the kind of emotional hangups about what was probably going to be a one night stand anyway.
It was time to just clear the decks, and bid a hasty retreat back to the Cayuga. They would both chalk it up to a less than perfect one night stand and probably not see one another for a long time, if ever.
Once he heard the hum of Cir'Cie's sonic shower, he pulled on the rest of his discarded uniform, figuring he would change after he was back aboard the Cayuga. Time to get to the transporter room and beam back to his own ship.
Tapping his combadge, he said "Jeen to Cayuga" No answer. "The comms are probably down again."[/color] he walks towards the door, meaning to leave the quarters and reach a control panel, to arrange a transport.
Before Kaylon Jeen had attempted to contact the bridge of the Cayuga, there was a loud crash from the sonic shower.
"Mister Jeen, would you be so kind and assist me?" The dispassionate and loud call came through the closed door.
Inside, Cir'Cie had lost her balance, and while she had stripped bare, she had attempted to regain her balance by grabbing on to the white bathrobe that hung close to the sonic shower. Unfortunately, she had merely managed to tear the bathrobe from its peg and brought it with her in her fall. When the sliding doors opened, she was trying to pick herself up from the floor, with the twisted bathrobe alone preserving her modesty. She felt like an animal that had braved the ice of a frozen lake, and instead of feet she wore hoofs.
"If you would be so kind, I'd require assistance with the sonic shower," he said, head spinning, realising that the effects of that root had not worn off completely. "Furthermore, I am still in need of a new uniform. Did you replicate one for me?"
Vulcans being very private, the current ordeal was deeply shameful for Cir'Cie, who found that the only positive factor was how the mortification was somewhat overshadowed by the ache in her head. She had never experienced the aftereffects of elevated sucrose ingestion, and if she had any chance to prevent it, she did not care to ever ingest anything like that root again.
"I would also benefit of some advise," she said, latching on to the edge of her wash basin in order to get leverage in the impossible challenge of regaining her footing. "Should I report to Sickbay, or will this kind of effect wear off soon enough, so that I can resume my duties?"
From the other side of the restroom door, Kaylon heard what sounded like a crashing sound. As much as he wanted to just get the hell out of there after such an embarrassing encounter, regardless of what happened, Cir'Cie was a fellow Starfleet officer, "traitor" or not (which he didn't believe for a nanosecond anyway) , it made no difference. The door to the bathroom opened and he saw Cir'Cie there on the floor, her bathrobe barely covering her modesty. He had moved immediately to help her back to her feet.
I'm admittedly not all that familiar with the effect of sucrose on the Vulcan metabolism. If I had known it would have this effect on you, believe me, I wouldn't have been so ah, generous, with it. But if you're still having problems this morning beyond that of what to other humanoids would be a normal hangover, then the logical course of action would probably be that you should at least consult the ship's medical staff. I've never heard of Ter'anakul having this kind of effect on a Vulcan, but if there is some kind of side effect or worse, if you are having a delayed allergic reaction, it'd probably would be best to have the doctor run a few scans." He helped her to the chair, and took down the uniform that he had previously replicated back when he got her water a few minutes before, and lay it beside her on the bed.
"Would you like for me to help you get to Sickbay?" he asked.
The Trill was helpful enough, getting Cir'Cie back on her feet. She held the bathrobe to her chest to cover herself a bit, even though there was little chance to cover all of the skin she wanted to cover. She was grateful for the seat, but the movement to the room was entirely counter-productive. She still reeked of having intimate relations with the Cayuga's Chief Engineer, and she wanted to rinse herself. The headache had not been mitigated in the least, but at least she was given a new uniform.
The advise of the Trill in regard to the root was... moot. Sucrose intolerance was common among Vulcans, and she believed she was among those affected - which was largely the majority, as far as she knew. But how intolerant was she?
"I would benefit from a scan with a tricorder in that case," she told Jeen in an even voice. "Else I will not know how dire my affliction is."
Just as she said this, there was movement outside her viewport.
She turned her head, and she saw the Cayuga moving. It was turning around, more lights lit than she'd seen since that first day. The quad nacelles were alight as well. The warp coils glowing. In fact. They flared up and....
...the Cayuga was gone. It had gone to warp. Seeing this, she turned her head towards Kaylon Jeen. "Did you request a transfer to the Theurgy?" Even blinking caused searing pain, but she raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "As far as I am aware, you did not tell me this last night. As Chief Engineer, why would you chose to serve on the Theurgy instead?"
Kaylon was momentarily stunned by her question. In his peripheral vision, he had seen the Cayuga under way, and then go to warp. Once she asked the question, those vague memories came to the forefront of his attention. Uselessly he ran to the viewport, putting both hands against the window, and shouted "No!", just as uselessly.
Why would the Cayuga leave without him? Why?!
Turning to Cir'Cie, he sighed and said, "Let's get you to sickbay...then I need to speak to your captain."
This was not going to be a good day. |
Topic: CH02: S [D01|1930] A Reconvened Interest (Read 7549 times)
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