Bench Warmer

Posted on Tue Nov 8th, 2016 @ 7:18am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, Deck One, the Bridge
Timeline: 2265

The bridge alpha shift, she was beginning to realize, was no longer necessarily her time to overwork her own station. She could run her reports, analyze her data, keep track of the status of the dozen or so experiments her various departments were conducting, run diagnostics on her sensors- much like Fiona thought of them as 'her' engines, they were 'her' sensors- and that still did not take up an hour of her day.


Previously she had occupied the remainder of the shift using her viewer to read up on technical manuals while sticking her ass up in the air like a peacock. Partially because someone designed the station to be used that way, and partially to tease Patrick, because she still found his attention quite exciting and stimulating to her, and it certainly made the after-hours activities enjoyable when he had been suitably teased through the morning.


Now that she was First Officer she was discovering something, a fact that she had been aware of but had not truly impacted her until now. And that fact was that Captain Patrick O'Conner did not like to spend time on the bridge when nothing was happening.


She was sure that if Klingon warships decloaked off the port bow, he would be in the bridge in a flash. Were a nigh-omniscient alien presence speak to them in a booming voice from space, he would be ready to speak with it. Should a mechanical problem cause them to slingshot halfway across the galaxy, he would be in that chair, rubbing his rugged chin and making the tough choices.


But when nothing was happening, he had better things to do than sit on his rear in the comfy chair in the middle of the bridge.


And that, apparently, was now her job. Keeping that comfy chair warm just in case anything interesting should happen to occur.


She didn't mind at all... even if their relationship was not what it was when they were off duty, on duty it was her job now to support him and assume command functions until such time as he should relieve her. And she was becoming more comfortable with it day by day... when the decisions were not life or death, that made it much easier to make those calls and handle the more tedious duties of command. Given their relationship off duty, she looked upon it as an additional expectation on his part- keeping him from becoming worn down by the doldroms of command so that he would be sharp when the time came that he was needed.


Today was such a day. Of doldrum, for the most part- not him being needed.


After the tour of the brig facilities with the Vulcan Captain T'Vel, he had sent her back to the bridge to see the other captain back to her ship. Charybdis had a number of turbulent emotions about the situation, but she bottled them all and shoved them aside. She could simply not think about it- for the short term it really could be that simple for her. Thus she buried herself in memorizing the schematics of the transporter system and working on a theory to boost the transporter signals further. In addition she looked up a few simple recipes to try, and ran the long calculations for the projected dilithium crystal energy consumption for the month for reports... unnecessary, but Fiona or Patrick might wish to know.


Patrick never returned to the bridge, and when the shift ended she transferred command, and found herself sliding down the access ladders first to Deck Two to the science labs, where she collected a bottle of the freshly minted Bonne Chance Bourbon. Then she slid down to Deck Three and settled into the Port Observation Room. Sure enough, the small room with the big viewport was empty... so she poured herself a drink and let go of the dam of her emotions and started contemplating the events of the day.


Patrick would find her if he looked for her. And if not, then perhaps that would be for the best as well.

 

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