Gaila brings the drinks this time, their third round, sliding into the tall booth at the back of the only bar on Deep Space Four.
"So, Chris, exactly how long have you been stationed on the Enterprise?" Gaila slides a neon pink cocktail in a very large martini glass across the table.
"What?"
"Just answer the question. How long have been on the Enterprise?"
Christine has the sudden feeling she's being interrogated, as Gaila and Janice and Nyota all lean forward, waiting for her response. She does the math quickly in her head, figures the Battle of Vulcan counts. "Two years, seven months, three days, and, I guess two hours."
"And how long have you been in love with Dr. McCoy, our engimatic Chief Medical Officer?"
"Um, two years, seven months, three days, and, what, an hour and half?"
"I thought as much." Gaila smiles, Nyota nods, Janice gives her a look of commiseration.
"Do you think everybody knows?"
"Yes." They all nod.
"Do you think McCoy knows?"
"Oh, definitely yes." Gaila sort of bounces.
"That is bad news."
"Well, we just thought the time had come to do something about it," Nyota offers, as if this is all a rather logical discussion.
"Like what?" Christine is horrified. Mortified. Embarrassed. Oh, god, there are not enough adjectives for this feeling, whatever this is, of being exposed and she doesn't even know. She downs half of the pink martini in one quick gulp.
"Invite him out for a drink and then after about twenty minutes casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies." Gaila bounces again, green and sparkly as only Gaila is, and at this moment Christine really wants to hypospray that right out of her friend. Instead she orders another drink.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-10-12 04:20 am (UTC)Gaila brings the drinks this time, their third round, sliding into the tall booth at the back of the only bar on Deep Space Four.
"So, Chris, exactly how long have you been stationed on the Enterprise?" Gaila slides a neon pink cocktail in a very large martini glass across the table.
"What?"
"Just answer the question. How long have been on the Enterprise?"
Christine has the sudden feeling she's being interrogated, as Gaila and Janice and Nyota all lean forward, waiting for her response. She does the math quickly in her head, figures the Battle of Vulcan counts. "Two years, seven months, three days, and, I guess two hours."
"And how long have you been in love with Dr. McCoy, our engimatic Chief Medical Officer?"
"Um, two years, seven months, three days, and, what, an hour and half?"
"I thought as much." Gaila smiles, Nyota nods, Janice gives her a look of commiseration.
"Do you think everybody knows?"
"Yes." They all nod.
"Do you think McCoy knows?"
"Oh, definitely yes." Gaila sort of bounces.
"That is bad news."
"Well, we just thought the time had come to do something about it," Nyota offers, as if this is all a rather logical discussion.
"Like what?" Christine is horrified. Mortified. Embarrassed. Oh, god, there are not enough adjectives for this feeling, whatever this is, of being exposed and she doesn't even know. She downs half of the pink martini in one quick gulp.
"Invite him out for a drink and then after about twenty minutes casually drop into the conversation the fact that you'd like to marry him and have lots of sex and babies." Gaila bounces again, green and sparkly as only Gaila is, and at this moment Christine really wants to hypospray that right out of her friend. Instead she orders another drink.