Previous Next

What are Wingmen for?

Posted on Fri Apr 19th, 2019 @ 8:29am by Ensign Briaar Gavarus & Ensign Fiona O'Dell

Mission: Detours
Location: Ten-Forward
Timeline: 2396

Pacing around in the middle of her modest quarters on Deck 9, Ensign Briaar Gavarus was grumbling. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary about the porcine engineer grumbling, as her default state of being was one of general irritation more often than not, but tonight it was for a specific reason.

Tonight, Security Crewman Jablonski was off duty, and a little bird had informed the towering Tellarite that the Amazonian Security officer was socializing in Ten-Forward and that it might be the perfect opportunity for Briaar Gavarus to finally say something to the object of her affections. Of course, the little bird in question was Gavarus' best friend and partner-in-crime, Ensign Fiona mary Margaret Josephine O'Dell.

While Gavarus paced and grumbled, O'Dell was digging through the portly engineer’s closet like a hyper-active mole on a mission. The closet was jammed with an assortment of clothes that looked like a thrift store had exploded. Everything was just a little ragged and mismatched, and nothing was hung up properly, with half of her casual wardrobe in a pile on the floor of the closet.

Similarly, Briaar's quarters were an untidy mess. There was a green, faux-leather couch that was a touch deeper than the standard one that came with the room and there were empty shipping crates stacked up with potted plants resting on them like sad, makeshift tables on either side and a uniform on a hanger dangling from a light fixture. The room was a mess that looked more like a first-year college dorm room than an officer’s quarters on a Starship. But it was in her work that the rotund engineer was organized, and she usually just jammed everything in a closet to pass her room inspections.

"This is a crap idea, Fiona! She's off duty... probably with her friends from security. I'm just going to irritate her if I try and interrupt her evening. Hell, I'm irritating myself. And what in seven hells are you doing in my closet?!" The irascible Engineer barked out.

“I’m tryin’ ta find ye somethin’ ta wear that might show off yuir goods a wee bit better and show that big gal ye like that have a fun side outside of yuir uniform, ye irritable truffle-sniffer,” O’Dell shot back as she pulled out a pair of granny panties that looked too large even for the oversized engineer. “Yeek. Wait, hold on a tic, what’s this? An actual blouse? Be still me beatin’ heart, this actually looks like it might fit AND look cute on ye! Hear, try this on whilst I look fer a skirt in this mining expedition…”

"A skirt? Yeah, good frickin' luck with that!" Gavarus scoffed as she picked up the blouse as O'Dell tossed it at her. "Oh, what fresh hell is this? This was a hand-me-down from my sister, Errine. I look like an Amish hooker in this thing. Ugh"

While she complained, she pulled off her uniform top and begrudgingly pulled the deep teal blouse over her head, her frizzy blond poof of a pony tail popping out the top.

“Amish hookers get laid occasionally ye know,” the cheerful Mariposian moppet replied, digging through the mess in the closet seeking something suitable. “Oi, looit this!”

Producing a simple black cami top with spaghetti straps, O’Dell held it out, judging spatial relations of the fabric, the stretchiness inherent in the fabric and the size of her gal-pal’s wide ass. “Aye, this ought ta do! Ye kin shimmy into it and it’ll make a snug miniskirt for yez! Show off them ham hocks yuir smuggling back there, and it goes well wi’ the blouse!”

The wee redhead held the piece of clothing out as an offering to the grouchy lovestruck lass with both hands and a winning smile.

"Mini... you're out of your tiny, inbred mind!" Gavarus held up the Cami with a shocked expression across her pig-like face. Groaning and muttering under her breath, she pulled the blouse back off.

"Stupidgoddamneddumbassnonsense... Nevergonnafrickingeventalktoher... I'm gonna look like goddamn joke this assinine get up..." As she grumbled, the blouse got snagged on her thick, wiry ponytail. "GODDAMNIT!"

Tossing the blouse angrily on the.couch, she pulled the snug Cami over and down over her plump posterior. Pulled taunt, it only barely came to the middle-top of her thick, pink thights. With a loud groan, she snatched the blouse back up and pulled it on.

With vitriol in her voice, she strick an exaggeratedly frumpy pose and blurted out. "Ta-frickin'-da."

Unbowed and unmoved, O’Dell was unfazed by the grouchiness, the throwing around of clothing, the muttering or the swearing. Having quickly become the best of friends, she knew this was all part of the process, and she was unafraid of Ensign Gavarus- while she would put herself down and tease O’Dell in equal measure, the big porcine woman was rather fiercely defensive of the tiny test pilot. Thus the petite pilot could proceed with the fearlessness native to her heritage, which lent itself well to this particular endeavor.

“Ye look cute!” O’Dell insisted, nodding in approval. “We might consider letting yuir hair down, but I suspect that’s a bigger fight than civilian clothes fuir ye. Have yez any heels or… oh right, nivvir mind. So do ye polish the cloven hooves when ye want to kick yuir heels up or what?”

"I can polish them up by kicking you in the..." As she muttered the clearly meaningless pseudo-threat, Gavarus tried putting the band off of the massive and unruly ponytail she kept her hair in.

“Joost the tip!” O’Dell snickered.

"Ow! Dammit! OW!" Gavarus tugged the band out with no small amount of difficulty as her hair was beyond tangled. As she dropped the used band on the floor, a tribble-sized wad of hair came with it. With her thick, three fingered hands she tried fluffing her hair into something resembling a pleasant shape, succeeding only in making it look like an enormous, platinum blonde Brillo pad surrounding her head on all sides like a beach ball.

“Aye, that’s the ticket! Like a halo surroundin an angel!” O’Dell chirped, nodding as she looked up at the desperately unconfortable and decidedly frustrated Tellarite. “Okay, so I should go change meself so tis nae quite so obvious we’re putting yer on the market. So why don’t you,” the wee wingman poked her porcine pal in the tummy, “go have ye a wee nip to take the edge off, and I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail after I put on something a bit more casual than me uniform, alreet?”

"A Halo? I think you're already frickin' drunk." Gavarus clomped over to the crate of leftover Andorian ale she got from the Chief Engineer's wedding and poured herself An extremely generous glass.

Those big green eyes that seemed a bit big for the leprechaun's head beamed up at the egregarious engineer, and Fiona resisted the urge to remind Gavarus to trim her nose hairs. Given the girl she was chasing, the odds of her seeing from the same perspective as O’Dell would only come to pass if the evening went far better than expected.

As O'Dell bounded away.to get changed, Gavarus flumped on the deep, plush couch with her legs spread wide, not thinking about how short that faux skirt really was as she downed the first glass.

"Aaaagg... yeah. Good idea. Take the edge off." Wincing slightly at the strength of the liquor, Briaar quickly refilled her glass and kept at it, her nerves making her not quite pay attention to how much she was drinking. But after the disastrous first meeting with Jablonski that ended with Gavarus burping in the Amazonian security officers face mid-introduction, Gavarus was a wreck and too nervous to think straight.

By the time O’Dell returned, clad in a bright green and white striped high-necked top with a pair of matching shorts and white sneakers, she looked less like a woman on the prowl for company than a child preparing to be dropped off at school. Although she had made good time, ten minutes had passed, during which she thought Gavarus was on her first drink. Walking into the quarters, she shielded her eyes.

“ACH! Briaaaaar! Dinna sit like that, ye peat-bog polliwog, yuir wearin a skirt and ye’re scarrin’ me for life! Jaysis Jooseph and alla the saints preserve us!” The tiny redhead held her hand up in front of her eyes even as she squinted and looked away. “Have ye had a wee nip ‘o Dutch courage?”

Not having been aware of how she was sitting, Gavarus was legitimately embarrassed for a second but she got over it quickly enough as she took a sip of what O'Dell didn't know was her third drink, finishing off the glass. "Well... Andorian courage, technically. But yeah, I've... I've nipped."

With a bit of a grunt, the thick-middled engineer pulled herself up from the ass-eating couch, bending over slightly as she did. Turning around to put her empty glass on the makeshift table, the tall Tellarite bent over further allowing the thin material of the cami to allow her small, pig-like tail to poke a slight fabric tent in the back of her outfit right in front of O'Dell. "Okay... lets do this then!"

‘Ach… Briaar me dove… mebbe tug yuir skirt down a wee bit ta offer a nod to modesty?” the vaguely traumatized tiny test pilot offered. “Hem of the skirt at least down to your fingertips, aye?”

Realizing this was far out of the comfort zone of her porcine pal, the wee lass grasped the hem of the skirt and tugged it down into place, making sure the seams were straight and that she was still covered appropriately. While she was no expert on women’s fashion nor how to dress to pick up a man. Or a Clydesdale with tits. If anything, she was more worried about what might happen if her friend succeeded in picking up the mountain of muscle she’d set her sights on in the Security department, since it looked like Jablonski could snap the grouchy engineer in half if she had a mind to do so.

But for now, it was showtime.

“Alreet! Let’s get oot there and ye kin be cool and confident and…” O’Dell tapered off as she stood in front of the door which opened itself and she considered. “Better, let’s show her ye are sarcastic and bitter and nervous around pretty girls and maybe she’ll decide that’s adorable. Aye?” As always, O’Dell beamed a smile up to her pugnacious pal to try to put a positive spin on the situation and encourage her to be confident in being herself. It hadn’t worked yet, but hope sprung eternal in the bonny lass of the Bringloidians.

"Ugh... okay. I'm never going to be any more ready or any less... me... then I am right now. So let's go." Gavarus groaned as she tried to straighten out her outfit, running her hands down the front of her prodigious belly, hoping it would magically disappear in doing so.

As usual, O'Dell bounded out the room into the corridor with Gavarus trudging along behind, rolling her eyes as they made their way through the ship an all the way to Ten-Forward. And much to the anxious Tellarite's dismay, the room was busier than normal as they arrived. But that didn't stop the pernicious pixie from striding in like she owned the room. Across from the bar, Gavarus's heart fell into her stomach as she caught sight of Jablonski sitting at a nearby table looking every bit as perfect and statuesque as ever.

"Bar. Go to the bar. More alcohol." Gavarus nervously whispered. "I think they have the real stuff in the back."

“Ye dinna need another…” O’Dell started to say, but then realized that denying her bosomy buddy more liquid courage would only make her that much more nervous. “Well, ye only had one drink in yuir quarters, so another canna hurt. And ye know the replicators can make the real stuff if’n ye ask? Twas the first thing me Uncle Danilo asked once he found out what a replicator was when we evacuated Bringliodi.” Skipping to the bar, O’Dell asked for one finger of Andorian Ale, and a half-pint of Guinness for herself. Turning back to her friend, she nearly ran into Gavarus, who was sticking very close to her wingman.

“Alreet, alreet, calm doown. Look, she’s over there all by herself, readin. So she’s nae busy and she’s nae wi’ people, so that means she came here ta joost relax, and that’s a good thing,” O’Dell reported, handing the tumbler up to her thick-fingered friend. “So we kin joost go talk to her. Or ye kin go yuirself if ye dinna want yuir annoyin like pest aboot muckin up the works?” Fiona liked to offer options in such circumstances, but inwardly she suspected Briar Gavarus would cling to her like a life preserver on rough seas in this particular engagement.

As soon as the drink was in her hand, Gavarus was drinking and looking for any conceivable way to avoid going through with the plans of her ambitious wingman. "Yeah... she's reading,” the anxious engineer whispered with remarkable loudness. "Reading means she doesn't want people creeping on her, O'Dell."

Whapping the oversized engineer on the arm, the diminutive doll tasked. “Whist! I’ll nae have ye shootin yuirself down before ye take a chance, ye great gangly golem ‘a grease! For all ye know she’s here joost wonderin if that big pork belly she talked to the other night is g’win ta come in ta talk to her, aye? Joost as likely. Now goo!”

Stepping in behind Gavarus, O’Dell tried to push the considerably larger mammal, with spectacular lack of success. Turning to put her back into it, the Mariposian midget grunted and strained, but could not move the anxious anthropomorph. Huffing, blowing her own unruly mop of red curls out of her face, O’Dell walked around to look up at her self-doubting shipmate. Looking up from beneath her knitted brows, O’Dell quite closely resembled a small dog preparing to bite.

“If ye dinna go over there and talk to her, I will. And while I’m over there unsupervised I might say all manner of things. So ye’ve a choice. Ye kin go talk to the girl ye like, or I’ll go talk to her, and you’ll be at me mercy as to what I tell her aboot ye.” At that, O’Dell did her level best to look menacing, although it mostly made her look like a petulant child.

"Would you cut it out!" Gavarus muttered down at the tiny terror of Ten-Forward. "I'll go overr, let's just... I don't know... be causal f'r a bit 'r something. We can sit at the barr, have a few drinks, look all... frrrickin' relaxed and not planning on creeping on anyone, 'k?"

Not waiting for a reply, Gavarus waved her empty glass to the bartender for a refill, completely unaware that she was starting to slur her words a little. "So, anotherr dr'nk then I'll go overr, 'k. I swear, y'r like a yappy puppy. Don' make me put you in my purse."

Catching the hint, the professional lightweight drunk suddenly suspected that her erstwhile Juliet had maybe put down a few more than just one drink back in her room, and that despite superior size and body weight the liquor was likely catching up with her now, and it was only going to get worse as she kept pounding them down. A worried expression passed across her face, then she wiped it away with a change of plans. “Aye, yuir right Briarr, me old sot. I shouldnae be pooshin ye, and I’m sorry. Let’s joost have us a drink at the bar and we kin take our time, aye?”

Clambering up onto a barstool, the petulant pixie fairly beamed. “Another round for me friend, please?” she asked, smiling brightly as she kept one eye on the off-duty security officer, and internally she wondered just how she was going to avert disaster.

Sitting at the bar and taking down what was, in actuality, her fifth drink, Briaar was feeling much more relaxed but in no way more willing to actually talk to Jablonski as she tried to distract O'Dell with small talk.

"So... I got Gon'die t' 'prove 'ditional shielding f'r th' Cyclone interrriorr shielding so there's more shielding on th' interrriorr." She rambled slightly, finishing off round five and not even waiting to gesture for a refill.

"Do ya think if we add a nanopoll... Nano... Polymer t' the joints on th' superchicken we c'n reduce the stress on th' load bearrring joints? Do ya think? Fiona? What do ya think?" Gavarus continued, somehow still making decent sense in spite of the slurring and increasing goofiness.

"I think she dinna need more slip an' slide, what she needs is shock absorbency. Them outer plates need ta be shaped joost som so's they reflect imnpact an' bounce back. That'll save wear an tear on the joints, I'm thinkin. Mayyyyybe nanopolymer on the skin of the beastie...?" Distracting the drunk was one thing, but this was thei project and their passion, these two vehicles in which they were assigned to design together. This the little leprechain could talk about all day.

"Yesyesyesyes!" Gavarus responded quickly, her usual reserved grumpiness replaced, thanks to the power of Andorian ale, with what a casual observer might confuse with O'Dell's excitement. "So we take the bird' laet 'n add in a polyad... polydapa... A POLY. ADAPT'VE micro resin joint system. We use inder... Under... independently powerrrred shaped shielding t'..."

Suddenly talking with her hands, Gavarus held her fingers as if they were going to interlock but kept them floating apart. "Shaped shiedling to modulate the joints t' absorb impact wit' the poly... The... that stuff!"

As she talked, having taken her hands off the edge of the bar, the towering Tellarite began sliding ever so slowly to the side, like a tree about to tip over off of her barstool.

Hopping to the floor, O'Dell raced to the other side of the room. Stopping short of the table at which Jablonski was hunched over a tablet reading, O'Dell patted the table in a stacatto drumbeat to get the big woman's attention. "Halp? She's drunk, she's tippin and I canna catch her!"

Her piece said, O'Dell ran back across the room to the bar, where the drunken engineer was still doing a slow slide out of her chair. As she arrived to start shoving at Gavarus to get her to stay on her barstool and leaning on the bar, O'Dell hissed, "Yuir dreamgirl's aboot ta help ye git oop, so be gracious an' charming!"

"Huh, what?" Gavarus suddenly snapped to attention, and became very quickly aware that gravity was winning a tug of war with her. Unfortunately, the rapid.attempt to somehow magically sober up and stabilize herself only served to push her and her stool over further away from the bar.

"SHIIIIII..." The inebriated engineer called out as she quickly found herself caught by the approaching Jablonski.

"Okie dokey, up ya go dere," The beefy security officer grabbed Gavarus under the armpits to reset her center of gravity even as she maneuvered Gavarus back onto the stool. Steadying her with one hand on her back, Jablonski leaned on the bar to eye the Tellarite engineer. "What's goin on here, eh? You just got here, didn'tcha? I, ah, saw ya come in witcher little pally dere just a minute ago or so. Howcome you're so drunk already, eh?"

"She's tryin' ta work up the nerve ta talk to a girl!" O'Dell chirped from the other side, where she'd already clambered onto a barstool.

Embarrassed, Gavarus jerked around in her seat towards O'Dell to snap back, "FiOOna!!! What's you... shut uup!"

Then, in the same breath, the porcine engineer turned quickly back around to face the Amazon standing at her side. "Yeah... I... uh... we were... I was... I had a few drinks before we got here and... didn't....urrp...

Having whipped her head around a little too quickly a few too many times, the Andorian ale began working it's way back up Gavarus' throat, but she was able to swallow it back down as the butterflies in her stomach began to clear her head just enough.. "It... uh... was a long day and I guess I maybe started early... uh... But... Um... thanks for helping me out there."

Watching Jablonski loom trying to think of what to say, Fiona rolled her eyes. "Why donchye join us, aye? After all, she might get to fallin again soon, and I need to get some coffee inta her ta sober her oop, eh? Y'like coffee? Aye, o'copurse ye do, yuir Security. Ye run on coffee and protien shakes." O'Dell flagged down the bartender and requested two cups of coffee, then she sat down and looked for her beer, which was in front of Jablonski.

"Canna win fuir losing tonight," the leprechaun muttered.

For her part, the amazonian security officer took a delicate and uncertain seat on the barstool, and looked around awkwardly, although she did seem alert to whether Gavarus was going to fall off her chair.

For Gavarus, it felt like it had suddenly become twenty degrees hotter in Ten-Forward as Jablonski was now sitting right next to her. Her head felt a bit clearer as she swallowed. She glanced at O'Dell who seemed fit to pop with anticipation as she waved and hissed at her. Then she took a breath to tried to talk. She was sitting right there, and it was now or never.

"So... uh... what is it you were re..." But as she spoke, her eyes began to water as she felt everything in her stomach rapidly threaten to evacuate right then and there. With a forced smile and knitted brows, the tall Tellarite scrambled off her stool and out to door to the reclimator across the hall where she immediately began to vomit as soon as the door closed and locked behind her.

"She fancies ye, boot ye make her very, verrrry nervous cuz yer s'pretty an all." O'Dell stepped from one barstool to the next before settling down in Gavarus' seat, so that she could reach her half-pint of bitters. "Hello, me wee darlin. I'll not be drinkin enough a'ye to make me sick like that, aye?"

As O'Dell delicately tipped and sipped her beer, the large Minnesota colony girl from the 1.5 gravity world of Cestus 4 sat... confused.

"She, ah, she thinks I'm pretty, hah? That's cute, I guess, in a weird sorta way that upsets her tummy?" Jablonski turned to look at the reclamator. "Ya think I should go check on her? I'm Security yannoo, I can go in there."

"Nah, she'd only puke on yuir shoes. Go lay low in another part'a the bar, and I'll convince her to go home and fry her bacon over how awful she is at wooin." Leaning into the gaze of the security officer, O'Dell smiled at her.

"Yuir bein a good sport wi' me pal. Thankye fuir being kind to her, even though she's, well, her." The midget Mariposian twiddled her fingers on her beer for a few seconds, then looked up at the hulking security officer with Puss-in-Boots eyes. "Briaar's got a guid heart... try nae ta break it if ye can, aye?"

With that said, the little leprechaun took one more swig of her beer, still leaving it barely touched, and hopped off her barstool. Rolling up her sleeves, she headed for the reclamator, muttering under her breath the whole way.

In her wake, Jablonski stared after her in mild disbelief, before she got up and moved to another part of the bar, shaking her head the whole way.

Sitting on the floor, hugging the matter reclamator, Gavarus was muttering to herself, "Ooooh my Gods... I am never drinking again. In a million years I am never... ugh... I am never drinking again."

From outside the door, Gavarus could hear O"Dell's tiny feet bounding towards her as a gentle rap on the door was heard. "Ugh... go 'way." The mortified Tellarite grumbled.

"C'mon, ye great barfin beastie. Let's get ye back ta quarters before Medical has to get involved. Yuir dream girl's left, so tis safe ta come oot noow," O'Dell explained through the door of the stall. "No embarrassment out here, I promise ye."

As the door opened, Gavarus looked both exhausted and haggard. It was clear that the stream of vomit that had finally subsided had also come with their share of tears, that she was going out of her way to hope O'Dell wouldn't notice. "Fine. I'm out. Huzzah. Let's just get out of here and forget this night ever happened please."

"Alreet," the small spacer spoke softly, so no one else would hear. "I canna carry ye, so I wantye oop, shoulders back, head up like yuir on review at the Academy, aye? Ye march oota here like yuir off to get a bedamned medal, ye understand? Nae scuttlin away like a thief in the night. So first step, wash yuir face. And I brought ye a hairband, aye?" O'Dell held up the spare ponytail holder she'd snagged from Briaar's room since her outfit had pockets.

Washing her face off and pulling her hair back, Gavarus straightened herself up and the pair walked out like nothing had happened. The embarrassed engineer struggled to resist the urge to look back to see if Jablonski was watching.

As the odd couple of the Hera made their way down the corridor to the turbolift, Gavarus muttered to the pint-sized pilot at her side, "We are not doing this again, O'Dell. Two strikes is more than enough for me and contrary to popular opinion, I do not enjoy punishment."

The Andorian ale largely back in the matter reclamator, Gavarus was feeling fuzzy but much more sober as the reached the turbolift. "So... how bad was that, really?"

"Naaaaaaaae too badly! It could hae gone wayyyyy worse than that. Ye dinna lose yuir ball in the lake, ye joost chipped inta the rough is all. Faint of heart ne'er won the hand of maiden fair, so they say, and tonight ye were nae faint of heart... joost of irritable guts," O'Dell lightly poked her pork-bellied friend in the source of her discontentment. "But tomorrow is another day, aye? And who knows, maybe she thinks a girl who barfs at the prospect a'talkin to her is adorable?"

As O'Dell poked her belly, Gavarus groaned. "Oh, sweet evil hells, don't do that! Not unless you want me to spew all over this extremely cramped turbolift we're in together."

"Deck nine." Gavarus grumbled as the lift began to move down a deck. A short trip that passed in brief silence before the doors opened and the pair made their.way back to the Tellarite engineer's messy little room. Once there, Gavarus called up a.coffee on the replicator and flumped on her couch.

"And no. No 'tomorrow'. I'm done. Kaput. No more for me, thank you very much." Gavarus was emphatic but depressed sounding as she conceded defeat.

A sad expression on her face, O’Dell focused on her shoes as she spoke. “M’sorry, Briaar. This is me fault. Yuir me friend and I wantcha to be happy, so I pooshed ya because I… somebody ought to find love, right?” The small spacer looked up guiltily at the towering Tellarite. “I dinna want to see you lonely, because yuir me friend and ye mean a lot to me. I’ll stop, though. I meddle and I know better but I joost… m’sorry.”

Taking a long swig of her coffee and smiling as it warmed her turbulent stomach, Gavarus scoffed. "Oh, stop it. You didn't do a damn thing wrong, Fiona. I frickin' let you help and asked for advice. Besides, I'M the bitch who crashed and burned here, so I'm not sharing the self-pity. None for you, Leprechaun."

The fuzzy headed Tellarite smirked at her friend. "And as long as your around, I'm in no danger of being alone anytime soon, right? At this point, I don't think I could get rid of you. You're like a frickin' TICK." As she said so, she put her cup down and put her fingers up at the side of her mouth, mimicking mandibles as she put on an exaggerated growl.

That brought a shy smile back to the face of the picayune pilot, whose moods were nothing if not mercurial, and she took the cheering up to heart, because it was true. “Aye, ye’ve a point there. No one else on the ship’d put up with yeh, and I do attach pretty quickly. Raaar!” With that, the 90 pound weakling launched herself at her oversized pal, play fighting to bite her. “Once I get me fangs in yui’ll nivvir be rid ‘a me! Plus lyme disease!! Gnar gnar gnar!”

Shaking her arm when O'Dell was mock-biting her, Gavarus began laughing. "Git offa me, you little weirdo! Ha Ha Ha! This is my one not hideous outfit and it doesn't need leprechaun slobber on it!"

As the two women laughed, some of the embarrassment of the night faded for Gavarus. She would worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. And for tonight, she had a best friend and a hangover to try and avoid. "I need to eat something. Do you want anything?" She asked as she stood up to walk over to the replicator.

"What do you eat again? Like... sheep stomachs and tripe?" Her own now empty stomach gurgled unhappily at her own joke.

“Well, aye, Ah do eat alla that, and I wilnae recommend it, seein’ how ye’re a vegemetarian and all. But sure, I could eat. How aboot ice cream? Or some cake? Or maybe pancakes wi’ strawberries an’ cream?” From the sound of it, one might assume that the primary food group in the annoying urchin’s diet was sugar.

"Okay... So you don't need any more.damn energy. But breakfast stuff does sound good and settling." Gavarus stood at the replicator, pondering.

"Computer, two... uh...servings of Pancakes. One with Starwberries and Cream. One with Butter and Maple syrup." She pressed the button and two plates shimmered into existence with the steaming meals upon them. The hungry engineer put them on her small, glass table against the wall and went to grab her coffee.

"There you go. I know there's no brains or feet in there, but I'm sure you'll survive." She smirked at O'Dell as she sat down. "So, did any of the nonsense Ideas I was spouting make any sense? I honestly barely remember talking about work."

“Oh aye, it all sounded good!” O’Dell chirped as she dug into the meal provided, hacking a wedge out of the circular meal. “Dinna worry, I’ll type it all up and send it to ye so it can be submitted to the Chief for review. I got yuir back!” With that said, O’Dell stuffed an enormous mouthful- at least, for her- in and cheeks bulging like a squirrel in spring, she began chewing, which usually kept her quiet for a few seconds at least.

"Good." Gavarus replied as she relaxed a bit. "I felt like it didn't completely suck, so that's something." She raised her arms in mock triumph with her mouth full.

"I can engineer drunk! Victory!" Gavarus declared through the pancake in her mouth. "Well... A victory." She added, swallowing.

“Take ha oo kin git,” O’Dell mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes. “F’na fo bad, Briaar…” With a herculean effort, the pugnacious pixie swallowed, then burped slightly. “Ye got oot there, ye dressed oop nice and ye went out and put yuirself oot there. Faint of heart ne’er won the hand of fair maiden, so ye did okay tonight. And yeh had some good engineerin’ ideas to boot. So I calls it a win!” With that, O’Dell stuffed another mouthful of food in and started chewing.

"Weak of stomach never won any hands either, Leprechaun." Gavarus commented with a smirk that faded to a sincere smile. "But... uh... thanks."

“Dinna ye worry, yeh great barfin beastie, yuir stuck wi’ me. Who needs a big burly Amazon Clydesdale when ye’ve got a wee tiny miniature pony aboot?” O’Dell sat back on the couch, crossing her legs beneath herself as she grinned, clearly pleased with herself. While she had hoped to help Gavarus connect with the big shy Security officer, inwardly she felt guilty to be relieved that her friend would not be abandoning her for a lover, as was usually the case when such things came to pass.

Impulsively, Fiona scooted over to lean against her big buddy, and silently patted her bicep, trying to offer some comfort.

Smiling in spite of herself, the not-so-grumpy Tellarite mussed the crimson mane of her tiny friend, happy all the same.

 

Previous Next

labels_subscribe