Relaxation Training

Posted on Sat Nov 16th, 2019 @ 5:53pm by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Ensign Fiona O'Dell & Ensign Briaar Gavarus
Edited on on Sun Nov 17th, 2019 @ 3:31pm

Mission: Family Detention
Location: USS Hera, Deck 10, Ten-Forward
Timeline: 2396

The computer chirped gently in the otherwise quiet Flight Control Office as Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox looked up from her computer, a stack of PaDD’s next to her and a half-empty bowl of stew next to that.

=^=Appointment Reminder: The time is 19:50 hours. You are scheduled for recreational activities in Ten-Forward in ten minutes.=^= The computer intoned in an almost sing-song voice, reminding the busy Rihannsu Department Chief of her plans. Earlier in the day, she had a meeting with the junior officer and ace test pilot, Ensign Fiona O’Dell that had gone fairly well. As a pilot, Dox was among the best around, but as a department head, she had a decidedly authoritarian and harsh command style. A style that, along with her proclivity for angry and violent sparring with the Security team, had earned her the unflattering nickname of “Lieutenant Murderpunch.”

Letting out a sigh, Dox organized the PaDD’s she still wanted to review and replied to the computer. “Thank you, Computer.”

As she put the PaDD’s in her desk drawer, she saved off a file of crew rotations for the next week that she had been tweaking to give O’Dell more simulator time, as the two had discussed. As she did, the computer replied as it always did, =^=You are welcome, Lieutenant.=^=

Getting up, Dox turned off the computer and grabbed the bowl to carry over to the replicator. The day had been her first full day back on duty since her abduction and the resulting weeks of debriefing, and she had a lot of catching up to do. As such, her thoughtful wife and fellow pilot, Mona Gonadie, had been by earlier to make sure she stopped to eat. In truth, Mona was tickled that Dox had made plans to meet Ensigns Gavarus and O’Dell in Ten-Forward to try and get to know them better. After all, the pregnant Miradonian R&D chief worked with the unlikely couple every day, and intended to employ the duo as babysitters when the time came, so it would be good if they weren’t afraid of her wife anymore.

With a few minutes left, Dox was scrambling to lock up the office feeling as if she were forgetting something. And as she tugged down on her uniform top, she grabbed one of the PaDD’s from her drawer just in case she would need it.

Meanwhile, in Ten-Forward, the aforementioned couple of Fiona O’Dell and Briaar Gavarus were already settled in their favorite seats and a drink into their evening, three in the case of Gavarus. On the table was a plate of nachos that had been intended for the group, that the porcine engineer in gold had already decimated. “What?!? You know I’m a nervous eater, Fee! I mean, you said the meeting went well, but this is still Lieutenant Murderpunch. Sure, her mom ended up being cool, but I’m kinda freakin’ out.”

“Alreet, alreet- s’nae matter that the nachos are gone, we’ll joost order some more IF OUR BLOODY SERVER EVER COMES BACK! And, look, she’s tryin’, alreet? I toldya she was kidnapped and I think it rattled her, ye know? She saw something oot there she dinna like at all, and noow she’s wantin ta change. So we owe it to her, aye? Remember, she was the one what formed R&D and assigned us both to it. If not for her, ye and me would nivvir hae gotten to work together, and we’da nivvir fallen for one another, and we’d nae hae wee Minnie. So no callin’ her Murderpunch, okay? S’nae who she wants ta be n’more, so let’s give her a chance, alreet?” Taking the large three-fingered hand of her porcine partner in her own, O’Dell made puppy dog eyes at Gavarus.

“Pleeeease Briaar? Joost try… fer me?” It was dirty pool and she knew it, but the Lieutenant was making a real effort to try not to be a terror to the two slack and slovenly sailors, and O’Dell was convinced enough to at least give her a chance.

"Oh, COME on! Don't give me... Don't... that's not fair, Fee! C'mon..." Gavarus griped, wincing as if the puppy dog eyes were weaponized. And in a way, they were and targeting her directly. "Okay, okay! Just turn those things off! GYAAAGH, you know I hate when you do that. Stop using your Catholic Space Guilt against me. I have no damn shields against that crap and you KNOW it and it isn't fair."

Running a free finger around the bottom of the bowl, Gavarus scooped up the last of the queso and licked it off, scowling slightly. "And I promise, I won't call her Lieutenant... MURDERPUNCH!"

Mid-sentence, Gavarus cut herself off and blurted out the unflattering epitaph as Mnhei'sahe Dox entered Ten-Forward at the far end, her nose buried in a PaDD. Cringing slightly, Gavarus knitted her eyebrows and took a swig of her already half-finished beer. "Gods, I hope she didn't hear that with those ears of hers."

And if on cue, Dox looked up, tucking the PaDD into her back pocket, scanning the room to find the two women she was there to meet with. And, as it took a second, Gavarus sighed slightly since it seemed that Dox hadn't heard and she hadn't begun the evening by sticking a hoof in her mouth.

Waiving merrily, O’Dell offered a smile, which was then followed by a bit of a confused expression. As the Lieutenant approached the table, O’Dell greeted her. “Evenin’ Lieutenant, glad ye could join us! I dinna make ye a drink order since I didn’t know if ye wanted a draught of the sour blue stoof or if ye were in the mood for a beer or what have ye. Me and Briaar like beer, but I’m partial to a good single malt Irish whiskey meself, while Gavarus here’ll try innything once, but I’ve noticed she’s a bit partial to a margarita if the salt’s good that day.” Beaming a pleasant smile, O’Dell hoped this was going to work, and that her inner nerves were not showing on the outside.

"Good evening Miss O'Dell, Miss Gavarus. Thank you for the invitation, I appreciate it." Dox replied, still far more formally than was likely good for what was supposed to be a casual evening. As she did, Gavarus replied by grinning a bit too widely, showing off nacho crumbs in her teeth as she did. 

However, the question of drinks caused the nervous senior officer to tense up ever so slightly. While most of the bar's stock was synteholic, Dox was firmly on the proverbial wagon where Alcohol was concerned and hadn't considered that when agreeing to meet with the Hera's two most notorious drunks. As such, her response was even stiffer and borderline forced. "I think I will have a... coffee to... uh... start with. Thank you, though."

At that, O’Dell raised both eyebrows in the middle and pursed her lips to the side. “Um, ma’am? Nae ta be tellin ye yuir business, but sittin in yuir uniform in 10-Forward drinkin coffee is nae really getting oot ta hang pout wi’ people, ye ken? I mean, ye did flight school, aye?” Backing away from the statement to have deniability, O’Dell waved her hands before her.

“I mean, tis yuir call and all, but, um, it isn’t… I mean, I thought the idea was to come out for a drink or two and unwind and make us less sca-uhhhh… intimidated... by you.” O’Dell stretched the last syllables out as she was testing the waters, and the pit opening in her stomach was telling her this was all a Very Bad Idea she’d had, and that this was not going to go over well at all.

Looking down at her crisp, crimson uniform, Dox let out a sigh and brushed some hair over her ear. "Yeah. I… uh… I wore my uniform on my first date with Ensign Gonadie. I… legitimately do not know how to relax anymore."

Had she thought of it, Dox would have gone to sickbay for an Anti-Intoxicant like she did for her bachelorette party. But O'Dell and Gavarus were making an effort and she didn't want to discourage that. On the flip side, she couldn't believe she was worried about what amounted to peer pressure as she replied. "And… point taken. But I think I'll stick with a synthale."

"Nae worries, mum. I'll join ye in a round of synthehol or two, although Briaar'll stick to the hard stuff. But she's got a tetch more mass in the alcohol equation than ye and me, so it takes her quite a bit more to get her buzz going, aye? Ah, look, there's our nachos, which may still be warm enough for the cheese to still be melty," O'Dell sniped, then rattled off the drink order. "Two fingers 's synthehol Bushmills fur me and the L-T, and a triple fer Gavarus here, aye? "

Holding up a finger to make the server wait, Gavarus picked up her beer and chugged the whole thing down. Then, with a slightly restrained burp, the touchy Tellarite handed the empty, oversized mug over and commented, "AND a refill here. K' thanks."

"So, uh, Lou... Chief... Lieutenant... uh. Are nachos okay? It's got queso and beans and some little g... green thingies and that I... I... I don't know what they are but they're zesty even though they get stuck in your teeth and take forever to get out and I can't stop talking, Fee. Make me stop talking!" Gavarus nervously tried making small talk over the snacks as she stuttered and started spiraling.

"How'm I suddenly the bloody adult in the room? Chroist jayzis. So how's the little ones coming along, Lieutenant?" O'Dell tried to change tracks, regretting this idea more with every moment that passed and wondering if she could cause a fire or simulate an alien attack to get them out of this mess. The Lieutenant, who didn't know how to relax despite having been through flight school who was stiff an awkward, Gavarus who was anxious and scared, and she herself who was just desperately uncomfortable and still a little scared herself.

Which was when the drinks arrived.

"Oh thank heaven," O'Dell exclaimed as she tilted up her glass and took a gulp of her drink, downing perhaps half of it in one go. Looking at the scared swine and the rigid Romulan, she downed the other half and handed it back to the server. "I'll have another a'those, and soon, aye?"

Watching the exasperated O'Dell, Dox sighed and took a drink, wishing it were the real thing in the moment were she didn't know how she needed to behave or even how she wanted to behave. She knew that for a command officer, which even as just a Lieutenant, was what she was to the two women at the table, she was to maintain a certain professional distance. But there always seemed to be some kind of distance to worry about in her life. Some facade she needed to maintain.

Putting her glass down on the table, she answered O'Dell's question. "Mona… Ensign Gonadie… she's…"

Exasperated, Dox took another sip of her fake whiskey and rolled her eyes. "Mona… which is her name and you know it and it's acceptable to call her such off duty… Mona is doing great. The kids are actually growing faster than the doctor had expected. At this rate, they're expected in about… five months or even less."

Talking about the children she had on the way, Dox warmed up ever so slightly. "And Miradonian's… they have empathic abilities with family members, so… when I touch her, I can actually feel the children. I mean… feel what they're feeling. It's… kind of amazing."

"Five months? I figgered she looks ready ta pop already... whoof, that's g'win ta be hard on the poor gel. That's nice that ye kin feel 'em though, I dinna know that aboot Miradonians. D'ye know that Briaar? Nae, nope, we did not." It was clear that O'Dell was rambling a bit as the liquor worked it's magic, although one would not expect it to work quite so quickly. But the lightweight leprechaun was a famously easy drunk, and as she was allergic to Synthehol, it had the same effect on her as real liquor.

Taking a scoop of the nachos, Dox took a bite and there was a forced silence as a result as she chewed. "You two… you have a little one as well. Mona says she's a little sweetheart and is looking forward to making playdates when the girls are here."

"As fuir playdates, we'll hafta see. Minnie-" O'Dell paused to try to get another sip from her empty tumbler, peering into it 2with one eye squinting closed before setting it down and cupping the tumbler with both hands to have something to do with her hands. "Wee Minerva, she vurrah particular aboot who she likes and who she dinna, so we hafta be careful. Some folks she joost adores, like yuir mum yuir wife and Jablonski and me an' Briaar, boot when we tried to leave her at daycare she was a bit... ah... wassaword, confrontational? Aggressive?"

"She started headbutting people. At about four months old," Gavarus offered with a small degree of parental pride. "Seems she just deals with everything by coming straight at it head on. She didn't like being left at daycare, so she headbutted everybody she came across, then she started headbutting the door because it wouldn't open for her. Heh." Gavarus drained about half her beer, relaxing a little talking about their pride and joy.

"Aye. But she likes the Chief it seems, so... mebbe?" O'Dell recalled an episode recently when the miniature minotaur had been on Mona Gonadie's lap, with O'Dell hovering nervously nearby, wherein she had placed both hands on the feathery flier's swollen belly and gently placed her head alongside it, as if listening to the occupants. Which had been odd but reassuring, as her horns and propensity for headbutting made her a bit dangerous around a pregnant woman. But she had been gentle with Mona, which had been a relief to both fairly odd parents.

Listening, Dox was taking in all the details. Reading both women's body language and trying to anticipate how the conversation was going. In short, she was reacting like she was still strapped to a metal chair in a Romulan brig being interrogated and realized how ridiculous she was being. She was sitting, drinking with co-workers talking about their children and she was locking down again. 

"Well, we'll see, I guess. I've not met her yet, but my Mother and Mona can't stop going on about her. And you two certainly seem to be happier on duty for it." Dox took a swig, finishing her drink and gesturing with two fingers to the bartender to come over. "Not to bring up work, but more to just say I've noticed the smiles and it's really nice to see. More smiles at work are a good thing. Now I just need to take my own advice and pull the stick out."

As the bartender came over, Dox leaned over and made an order, "Another, please. And a shot of the Praetor's reserve. Cut it by half. Two fingers, please." Then she turned back and made an admission. "Am I... really that scary?"

"Shit, yes!" Gavarus blurted out, chugging her beer.

A subtle elbow to the ribs made Gavarus grunt, more from surprise than pain, as O’Dell tried to pacify the situation a bit. “Well, yuir… severe, mum. No nonsense. I canna speak for all the command officers, because we generally dinna deal with ‘em much. But yuir our boss, and I, uh…” O’Dell paused and spoke very slowly, watching the woman’s face intently as she did so, as if navigating a minefield. “I would not bring a problem or issue to ye unless twas absolutely necessary.”

The magic of syntheol was working quickly on the 90 pound weakling with the low alcohol tolerance, and it was loosing her tongue and making her bolder in her conversational ventures. “Truth be told, I’d take it to the Commander if twas that important, because she seems like she’d be… ah, more… amenable? Assuming I couldn’t joost bring it to the Chief. I mean, she’s nice, ye know? We allays know where we stand with her, and we know she likes our work, because she tells us so, a lot. And we allays know when we go wrong because she tells us. Ye are… hell, I don’t know who ye are. Ye allays look like someone joost ran over yuir dog or jammed a carbinium rod up yer-“

The rest was muffled as Gavarus had one beefy three-fingered hand over O’Dell’s mouth and another around the back of her head, effectively cutting off the little drunk before she went even further into the land of ‘too far’ than she had already ventured.

“So yeah, you’re scary is what she’s trying to say,” Gavarus added hastily, before whispering, “Shit, Fee, permission to speak freely ain’t THAT free, yannow? You trying to get us killed?”

As Dox's shot of Romulan Ale arrived, she took it and tossed it down quickly. Even half watered down it was strong and she felt that familiar old burn she knew well. Looking at the empty glass, she chuckled at the display across the small table "I grew up drinking this. Stopped a few months ago out of fear that it was going to make me do something stupid on duty and ruin my career. But I'm trying to be less afraid of myself. And the word is 'ass', Miss Gavarus. And I specifically asked her to be honest with me in our meeting. So no harm done. Promise."

"Honestly, I was an Ensign piloting cargo shuttles a year and a half ago out on Starbase 17. I made Lieutenant Junior Grade by pulling a crazy stunt when the shuttle I was flying with an important delegate got stranded with no engines or thrusters in a dense asteroid cluster. So I used the tractor beams to push off some, pull towards others. I... bounced the shuttle free of the asteroids and got the delegate to safety. That stunt got me here." Dox leaned forward and took a bite of the Nachos and nodded, a slight smile beginning to form that was clearly less forced as she continued.

"Within the first month of being on the Hera, I was put in charge of the department. I had barely met any of the other pilots, all of whom had been here longer, and I was suddenly in charge of them, and I had no idea what I was doing." Taking a swig of her synthale, she chuckled slightly. "I still really don't. But I know enough to know that I would HATE having a chief like myself. So I need to fix that."

"So, here's a promise, ladies. I will tell you if you've made a mistake, but I will help or encourage you fix it as well. If you come to me with a problem, I will listen to what you have to say and do what I can to fix it, even if the problem is me. I will not yell at you unless you do something that absolutely requires... volume. And I will always do my best to be fair and even-handed." Taking another drink, Dox paused for a moment. "Sound fair?"

Considering the woman’s words, O’Dell eyed Gavarus as Gavarus eyed O’Dell, in the unspoken communication of two who were often on the same wavelength, nodding, the prickly porcine and the pixie pilot both turned back to their superior officer.

“Alreet mum, agreed. We’ll do our best to help ye yank that crank oota yuir bum, and help ye be a bit more like one of the gals… approachable, that’s the word,” O’Dell went back to her empty tumblet for another drink, and hiccuped. Her slurring and accent were deepening, and it was clearer by the minute that she was speeding through ‘buzzed’ and ‘drunk’ at high speed.

“An yuir nae s’bad, joost… ye know, we saw ye pummellin that Klingon gel, and ye nivvir smile and ye don’t say much one way or t’other, so it- hic!- it means we’re kinda left to our own whatchacallit, ahh… conclusions. Now yuir mum- SHE’S scary. But I’ve known crabby old ladies like her alla me life, and when we were scheming ta steal the Banshee and use it to get the chief home, she was alreet wi’it, ye know? That went a long ways, a’cuz she knew we were doin’ bad fer a good reason, eye?” The dopey smile that settled on the face of the midget Mariposian was one of a happy drunk.

“O-KAY, it’s O’Dell’s near beer for you for awhile,” Gavarus decided as her pint-sized partner hiccuped happily. “Sorry, she’s allergic to the fake shit too, so just about everything gets her drunk, and when she gets nervous she'll pound it, and she, ah, she tossed that down pretty quick, so…”

“At’s me girl, allays coverin fer me tiny arse!” O’Dell declared, then leaned in to hug the bicep of the tall Tellarite. "Ah love ye Briaar. I dinna tell ye enoof, Ah knoow boot Ah do..."

Putting her hand up to cover her mouth, Dox couldn't help but smile at the display between the two, as they were legitimately hard to not like, all things considered. As she did, Gavarus leaned over and mussed her pint-sized partners ginger mop-top. "Love you too, ya' drunk ass wackadoo. Now we just gotta sober you up a little. Have some nachos and I'll order you another, less drunky drunk."

As Gavarus flagged down the server to order O'Dell a strictly non-alcoholic beer that she wouldn’t have the same reaction to, Dox took another sip of her own synthale. "I can see how S'Rina and I going at it in the ring could be... offputting. But, it's hard to explain. We both have a similar... itch that needs to be scratched in that regard. Weird upbringing on my part, cultural affectation on hers. And we can go at it without worrying about the other because we can both take it and don't take it personally. It's... a release, really. But if it's any consolation, most everyone else thinks it's disturbing as well."

"I mean, we got into a bar fight for my Bachelorette Party. It was... fun. That's how I relax and stop worrying about being an officer sometimes, if that makes any sense." Dox took a sip and raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I KNOW you two have gotten into trouble in bars before, so it can't be that far afield."

"Wellllllll... ahhh... I may have thrown myself over a few bars after assholes that effed with our holosuite before. And... yeah, and Fee will pick a fight in here over..." Gavarus looked down and cricked an eyebrow, "What did you head butt that one asshole in the junk about, again?"

“He called ye a fat dirty pig and said ye should be kept in a mudpen wi’ the rest of the livestock,” O’Dell replied, drunk enough to not self-edit. “Izzy in here? Cuz I’m ready to scrap wi’ im again. Dirty goabashite fecker. Asides, he was comin on ta me, and who the hell comes onto a bloody midget wi’ nae teats or arse? S’like cruising the shoolyard fuir dates, dirty pedo pile a shite…”

Her eyes went wide for a second as Gavarus took a swig of her beer. Under normal circumstances, O'Dell would never actually say exactly what random jerks said about her, but tonight she was in rare form, and drunker than usual. Looking around, more than a little irritated after hearing that, Gavarus scoffed. "No. I don't see no douchy blond pretty boy asshole pilot assholes."

Listening, Dox cricked an eyebrow. "Wait? Pilot, arrogant, about 187,188 centimeters and blond? Ensign Hovind?"

Taking another swig, Gavarus snorted and swallowed hard, pointing at Dox excitedly. "Yeah! That was his frickin' name! Hovind! Yeah!"

“Ensign Hindmost, ye ask me… fookin horse’s arse. Aye, where is he so’s I kin make sure he dinna father inny children,” O’Dell rolled up the sleeves of her emerald cable-knit sweater, revealing her pipe-cleaner thin arms as she unsteadily got to her feet to stand on her chair, looking around for the offending party, clearly ready to engage, despite her lack of skill, ability or strength.

Across the table, Dox pursed her lips and smirked slightly. "Uh... Ensign Hovind transferred off ship after the tribunal. As it turned out, he had a... significant problem with the... manner in which he interacted with other crewmembers. An extended problem over time that he was given multiple opportunities to rectify." Then she took a sip of her own drink. "And he hit on me, too.”

“Well ent that unfortunate fer him, cuz he’s missin his chance ta kiss the Blarney stone,” O’Dell huffed, brandishing her tiny fist before settling back in her seat. “I guess he had a thing fer redheads. Well, here’s hopin he marries some harridan from hell who treats him like the sack o’shite he is and he lives miserably ever after.” Taking Gavarus’ beer bottle, Fiona took a swig, then made a face, sticking out her tongue. “Ach! All suds!”

As one of the servers walked by bearing a plate of hot wings, O’Dell watched, sniffing the air. “Ach… so, ah… since me partner’s made’a pork I canna have that in good conscience, and me babe’s made oota beef, I see big brown eyes lookin at me from a hamburger. Lemme guess- ye canna eat chicken n’more given the Chief’s all feathery and sooch?”

Watching the same plate go by, Dox eyed it more than a little covetously herself as she replied with a sigh. "Uh, no. I... I gave that up after we started dating. I mean, I know it's all reconstituted protein molecules and it's not actual meat from a real bird, but... I know what you mean. I can't not think of Mona. And... I've tried sneaking some but I just felt terrible, you know?"

Noticing her mouth was watering at the strong scent of the hot sauce as it wafted by, Dox took another sip of her drink, finishing it off. "Fvadt, that smells good, though. Buffalo wings were one of my favorite dishes from Earth."

As Dox stuffed a particularly large pile of chips in her mouth to compensate, the server arrived with O'Dell's non-alcoholic beer. Holding up her empty Kali Fal glass, Dox nodded with her mouth full and the server replied as she left the table, "Right away, Lieutenant."

“Bring more chips. And queso. Oooh! Oooh! Bring us three a’them buffalo shrimp salads! Yuir g’win ta love it, L-T. It’s greens an’ all, but they fry the shrimp then toss it in the hot sauce, so tis most a’ the fun wi’ nunna the guilt! Plus bleu cheese crumbles an’ dressing over a spring mix, s’delicious! Aye, aye, that’s all. Cept for another beer for me partner here, aye?” O’Dell blurted out, still a bit excited from the concept of a confrontation that was not going to materialize.

"See, this isn't a problem for me. I don't eat Humans or Mariposians OR Romulans. Even with, like, garlic sauce or shit." Gavarus grinned sarcastically, pushing her comfort just a bit.

“Wahhhhl, ye’ve nivvir tried, now have ye? Wi’alla that tart blue liquor it’s nae wonder the romulans are s’dour. Imagine how they taste pickled in the stoof?” O’Dell laughed, then became suddenly aware that she might be going too far. “Ah, I mean… no offense, mum, joost… joost joshin, ye know?”

But instead of any kind of offense, the red-headed Romulan let out a throaty laugh at the joke at the expense of her notoriously sour-tempered people. "HA! That sounds about right. Seriously… I… I have no illusions that my people are any more pleasant on average than I am."

Nervously, Gavarus looked down at O'Dell, not quite knowing how to react to the self-effacing comment as Dox continued, changing the subject back to food and still chucking slightly, "I am embarrassed to admit that I never considered the shrimp. Good thinking, Miss O'Dell."

"Well, aye mum. Ye still have fish an' shrimp an' calamari and all sortsa..." As another server walked up, with their drinks, this one a cephalopod head complete with tentacles on a humanoid body, O'Dell threw up her hands in the air. "OH COME ON NOOW!"

Looking at the server, then down at the plate of buffalo shrimp, then back to the server, Dox took her refreshed Kali fal off the tray. Taking a drink, she shrugged and took a bite of the shrimp as the server left. As she did, she closed her eyes, smiled lightly and let out a long "Mmmmm... Yeah, this is too good and I don't really know him. So, I'm just eating it and playing the 'Rihannsu are assholes' card this time."

"Fook alla that noise, mum. I seen a fella with a head of broccoli on DS9. Somewhere oot there, somebody's allays g'win ta be eatin somebody's bebeh. Long as it ain't mine, I'm alreet wi'that," O'Dell shrugged and jammed one of the buffalo sauce smothered jumbo fried shrimp into her mouth and began chewing cheerfully. "Fo why you gotta be fo down on Romulans, mum. F'you'll parbum me fayin fo," O'Dell managed to swallow enough of her mouthful to talk without the speech impediment, "Seems kinda bad ta be puttin yuirself doown. I mean, I thought ye come oot to hang oot because ye dinna want ta be an ass. Or, scary or make yuir crews wet themselves."

"You didn't tell her about that time..." Gavarus began, as Fiona shook her head, the mop of unrestrained crimson curls emphasizing the motion.

"Nae, I dinna, but if ye dinna keep yuir trap shut she's g'win ta figure it oot in a hurry, ye great goober," O'Dell hissed in a stage whisper. "Noow eat yuir salad and get some roughage in ye."

Taking another of the delicious buffalo shrimp and enjoying it, Dox chuckled lightly as she watched them gripe with each other, understanding why Mona talked about them so regularly with smiles after work. But she also pondered O'Dell's question as well, giving it some serious thought for a moment while she chewed her food. 

"You're right. It's... another old, bad habit I need to get over. Back at flight school and the academy, it proved easier to tear myself down before others could do so. Or, at least, less immediately painful. Even though it never really worked or stopped anyone from being cruel. BUT..." Dox paused on her punctuation, taking a bigger sip of her drink as she did.

"...That's not what's going on here. It's an old, self-destructive habit I need to bury along with 'Lieutenant Murderpunch' if I want things to improve, right?" Then the redheaded Romulan chuckled again as she blushed slightly, turning a bit more green. "Although, in the interest of full disclosure. I... kinda like 'Murderpunch'. Mona thinks it's adorable and my mother wears her version as a badge of pride. Seriously."

Working up a bit of courage with another massive swig of her freshly refreshed beer, Gavarus gulped as she stabbed her salad with her fork and took a larger than necessary bite. Talking while she chewed, she replied nervously, "I's... we know 'oo said no nicknames..." Finally swallowing loudly, her voice cleared up, "But we didn't really mean anything by... we weren't... uh... we're sorry. I guess it made it easier for us to stay scared of you. But for as scary as she is... your mom is actually really cool n' it started makin' us... actually start feelin' bad about the whole nickname thing, right Fee."

"Strewth," O'Dell replied. "I mean... we kinda nickname everybody, because somehow that makes 'em... well, a little less intimidating. Cuz we're, ye know, not exactly the best of officers, so we're allays worried that we might get called on the carpet or demoted to whativvir is lower than ensign or what have ye. But the Chief, she looks out for us, so we should, aye, we should stop doin that too, like ye said, Lieutenant. S'nae a good habit, and we shouldnae allays assume the higher ups are after us for what we might or mighta forgot to do. Or got drunk and forgot we did..."

"Well, not to talk about work any more, but it's not been a problem so far. And frankly, so long as you both continue to perform as well as you do, that's what's most important." Dox said, taking another drink. She's couldn't really feel if it was having any effect on her, but she had a notoriously high tolerance even having abstained for a few months.

"And let that be the last thing I say about work this evening. Fvadt… I really did forget how to relax somewhere along the way. That or I genuinely never knew. I don't know. " Dox fidgeted slightly with a shrimp as she fumbled her way through her words, asking sincerely but awkwardly. "It was easier when nobody had any expectations of me. When I was a title delinquent in high school or the idiot absolutely not smuggling Romulan Ale in at the academy, everything was easier. What do you two do to relax at the end of shift?"

Both O'Dell and Gavarus turned to regard one another quizically, then turned back to their superior officer. There was a silent exhcange as each encouraged the other to speak, before O'Dell rolled her eyes and launched into it. "Uh, this, mum. We go to the pub, we have some drinks and some food and some laughs, mebbe play some darts or some billiards or cards, maybe sing some songs. We make friends wi' the crew sometimes- this is where we met Jablonski and most 'a the gals in Security- look, there's Big Ethel chattin' up Grblftrz, who's workin the door. We come out and we drink and we enjoy each other's company, and we bring Minnie too, because this is what we do, mum. We live our lives, and we enjoy ourselves doin' what we like. And tonight we're doin it wi' you... so why're ye so doown on yuirself when yuir oot havin fun wi' the department odd ducks?"

"For no good reason, Miss O'Dell. For no good reason." Dox took another swig, finishing her other drink. "You're right. We're here to relax and have fun and it's past due I stop overthinking it. We're here, we're talking and learning about each other and having good food." As Dox spoke, she held up her empty glass and shook it side to side, "And get a few more of these in me and you might even get me to sing."

"That's the spirit, Lieutenant!" O'Dell scrambled to stand in her seat and adopt a commanding pose. "Now on yuir feet, mum, I'm g'win ta lick ye at darts!"

"So long as I hold her up to be eye level with the board, or you let her stand in a chair," Gavarus qualified. "Cuz, y'know, short shit."

"Well, I think we can allow that, even though it doesn't sound regulation." Dox said with a wry grin, "I'm assuming there are regulations. I've never played this in my life, so I expect you will be kicking my ass in this one."

Pushing out from the table, the young Lieutenant thought for a moment, remembering some of her talks with Rita and some of the assurances the commander had made that had put her at ease. And with a smile and a slight nod, she looked across the table. "Also, on duty, it's 'Lieutenant' or 'ma'am' or 'mum'. But when were off duty, I'm just Mnhei'sahe."

"Uh… okay, Min… Men… Min yay…" Gavarus stuttered slightly on the admittedly hard to pronounce Rihannsu name blushing pink and awkwardly.

"Or, ya know, 'Dox' will do, in a proverbial pinch" Mnhei'sahe chuckled knowingly.

"Aye... Dox'll do," O'Dell nodded enthusiastically with drunken cheer. "S'quick and to the point, and tis still informal but nae disrespectful. That bein' the case, I'm Fiona and she's Briaar, but Fee dinna bother me and ye kin call her whativvir ye like so long as it ain't late to dinner!"

Laughter flowed, as did the drinks, and the Lieutenant who wanted to learn how to relax learned from the professionals that night, and found some kinship with her subordinates. The odd couple were, she discovered, easygoing, good-hearted and they did indeed know how to unwind and let go of the stress of the day. For a change, they treated her as an equal, as a shipmate, instead of fearing to speak, to make eye contact or be themselves in her presence. Selves which, she realized, were a fun pair of roustabouts who, their alien heritages aside, would have been right at home in any test piloting atmosphere of any age.

They were dedicated to their work and took great pride in it- but on their off time, they played, drank, laughed, and it was abundantly clear that their relationship was based not just on mutual interests, but on respect for one another. It was a different sort of respect that they had always showed her, as it was irreverent and easygoing. Yet it was clear each respected the other greatly, and tonight they extended the same respect to her- teasing gently, making the occasional joke at one another's expense, but she found they gave as good as they got, and her gentle jibes were just as well-received.

"Waahhhhhll, L-T, this has been a right riot of a good time, but we've got duty in the mornin, and Big Ethel's prolly passed oot wi' Minnie droolin oh her chest like last time," O'Dell admitted as the hour grew late. "So's we should prolly call it a night, collect our wee one and be ready for the mornin- I think we're doin' stress testing on the inertial dampeners in the Silver Banshee tomorrow, and I dinna wanta puke in me helmet. Doesna give the right impression of the fearless an' daring test pilot, aye?"

"Good thinking, ladies. And as for puking in your helmet, I wouldn't worry. I happen to know for a fact that any bodily-function issues that may have occurred in a flight suit officially never occurred as far as the records show." Dox said with a knowing grin as she looked down at O'Dell.

"That said, thank you again for the invitation, Fiona. Briaar. I have a wife waiting for me and you have your little Minnie. But I'll see you on the deck in the morning." Dox nodded smiling, happy that the evening had turned out so unexpectedly well. Maybe she might not be so bad at balancing command and being a person, she thought.

"Aye. And while I doubt we'll see ye every night, yuir allays welcome to come oot drinkin wi'the girls, aye Dox?" O'Dell grinned, happy to have seen Lieutenant Murderpunch relax for a night... and just be one of the girls.