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The Ship, The Crew
=/\= Personal Log =/\=
Captain Jack SaintDuiex
SD 9812.24

Jack stared out the viewport of berth 03A, looking at the 30 year old
ex-battleship. Originally commissioned as the USS Zhukov, NCC-26136, in 2342,
it had been retired just 4 years earlier. With the Dominion war Starfleet had
stepped up production of all of it's new classes and had just completed a
full reevaluation of all of it's decommissioned ships. In it's prime the USS
Zhukov was a formidable battle wagon and the
Ambassador class, replacing the woefully outgunned Excelsior class, helped
balance the Federation in the Klingon war.

Starfleet had decided to delay the upgrade of the Zhukov's tactical and
engineering systems to the current standards deployed in the Sovereign class.
Instead it's science areas and half of it's crew quarters were ripped out and
were hastily refit for cargo. The plan being that, depending upon the war, in
12 to 18 months the Zhukov would be brought back in for a full refit and then
deployment to the front lines, if needed.

Until then the USS Zhukov, renamed the USS Fragglerock, NCC-99099, would be
a 2nd tier supply and cargo ship. A last minute political move also added the
secondary mission of participating in a test program for UFP Public Affairs
Division.

Jack continued to gaze at the ship... his ship... his first command in
Starfleet. His mind wandered back to how he had gotten himself into this. 2
Months ago he was Chief Tactical and Security office aboard the USS
Federation. After that he made a series of decisions that changed his life.
He transferred off of the Fed to the USS Eclipse as the Chief Engineering
officer and divorced his wife of only a few months, Commodore Ariell
SaintDuiex. He was
just settling in at his new post when he was relieved of that assignment and
brought back to the Presideo.

Little did he realize that when he had transferred from a Tactical to an
Engineering post, his name had been removed from any future Tactical
assignments. He had almost 20 years of experience working a cargo ship for
the Galactic Shipping Corp prior to joining Starfleet. With his background
and the need for transport Captains, Jack was given a step promotion to
Captain and given command of the USS Fragglerock.

He turned away from his ship and headed down the corridor that would take
him to the Frag. He was determined to make the best of this assignment and do
whatever it took to get back on the tactical assignments list. He sure did
not relish the thought of being a cargo Captain in some backwater loactions
while the rest of his friends and peers on the Fed and Eclipse were in the
thick of things.

Boarding the Frag, he made his way to the bridge. The ship was a beehive of
activity with workers putting the final touches on the Frag. He stopped and
glanced at some of the work and muttered to himself "Rush job...".

Sitting at the 30 year old desk of his ready room, Jack quickly scanned the
list of crew, noting the DH's and key enlisted posts.

"XO... Samantha Otter... 2nd Officer... JP LeBeau... CENG.. Dmitri I.
Amnesia... Ops Officer... Dipthoneus Shyte... Supply Officer... Nick
Decatur... Procurement officer... uh oh... Anne Riggs Benjamin... I wonder if
she is related to any of the dozens of Benjamin's in Starfleet... nahhhh..
can't be.. she is a Petty Officer... hey.. what's this... Union Rep is
Istanbul Shyte? Gotta be related to
Dipthoneus, eh? okay... I gotta dig into these bios..."

And there he sat for the next several hours, his apprehensions rising as he
read bio after bio, the crew seemed almost hand picked. But by whom? Who
could possibly want to go to all of this trouble to assemble the list of
misfits and ragamuffins that he was to call his crew?

"Well, I have 10 days to get this ship ready. I'm sure that the bios are not
reflective of the true personalities of the crew. Hell, they can't all be as
bad as that, can they?"

A worker looked up and just smiled a knowing smile, then quickly placed the
panel where he had been working, the botched wiring job going unseen.

- Cap'n Jack -

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"From this Moment"
Joint log, Captain Jacques SaintDuiex and Commander Samantha Otter

Captain SaintDuiex sat in his ready room looking over his reports and tapped
his com badge, "Commander Otter, please report to my ready room." He waited
quietly for a moment, then a moment more....then yet another moment...

Meanwhile hearing the tap of her com badge Samantha realized she wasn't
wearing it and started to look around frantically. ~~Oh yeah, I took it off
when I had to change uniforms after I ripped the other one~~ She found it
under the PADD where she was working before she changed clothes just as it
went off again with the captain's voice.

"Commander Otter, please report to my ready room."

Hitting the com badge she quickly replied, "Aye captain, on my way."
Attaching the badge to her tunic and heading out the door quickly she banged
her shin on a table before exiting.

While the captain waited he read over reviews the commander's last duty
assignment. "Ahhh... very good." Then he paused in his reading and raised
his eyebrows as he read the words, ' was just barely saved from
decapitation...'

Limping down the hall and rubbing her shin at the same time Sam headed to
the turbo lift. "Bridge." While waiting for the TL to reach its destination
she checked her appearance in a dark reflective panel. Making sure to cover
her burn marks and strange short hair spot.

The captain read on in slight amazement 'Managed to escape just prior to the
implosion...' "Jeeze!" he exclaimed. Checking her fitness reports, "Well,
according to these she is an ace. But these incident reports...."

Pulling her sleeves down over a bandage and shaking off the last of the shin
pain as the TL doors opened. She composed herself as she walked across the
bridge and rang the chime outside the captain's ready room. Straightening
out her uniform she put on a smile as she waited.

"Enter," he called out.

Walking through the door carefully, planning each step and concentrating,
Sam entered.

Jack stood as the door opened. Stepping around his desk hand outstretched.

Smiling as she began to salute, "Commander Otter reporting as ordered sir."
Then seeing his outstretched hand she reached for it instead of the salute
with a not so smooth motion and a bit of a blush.

"Commander Otter I presume?" shaking her hand before she can salute.

"Yes sir."

"Welcome Commander. I am Jacques SaintDuiex, but call me Jack."

"Shaking his hand firmly with a friendly smile, "Thank you sir and you can
call me Sam."

"Care for a drink?"

"Yes, I would."

Stepping to the replicator, "Umm... anything in particular?"

"Hot tea with honey would be nice." Adding quickly, "Um...but not too hot
sir." Remembering that last time she got 3rd degree burns on her lip and
tongue, from screwing up the order on the replicator.

"Very good. Two Earl Gray, honey. And not too hot." Smiling as he carefully
handed her hers and set his mug on the table.

Taking it carefully, watching it as she brought it closer to herself.
Taking a hesitant sip she smiled in relief.

He motioned for her to sit on the couch as he sat in the chair next to it.

Looking at the couch, she quickly surveyed the route for any obstacles.

"So Commander... Sam... Welcome to the USS Fragglerock."

Making her way over without incident....a small victory she thinks to
herself...as she sat. "Thank you sir."

"As you may know, this is my first command."

She nodded after taking another sip, "Yes sir, I've read everyone's reports
in preparation for this assignment."

"So I am a bit anxious that we get off on a good foot with the crew," He
continued.

Setting her cup carefully on the table, "I'm sure it will be fine sir."

"I've read your fitness reports and, well, there are some questions that
come to mind."

Crossing her leg, the toe of her boot just touched the edge of the cup on
the table. She quickly corrected the course of her foot before knocking the
cup off the table and picked it up swiftly to disguise the slightly joggled
cup.

"You seem to be very bright and have excellent performance reviews..."

"Thank you sir, I always strive to do my best in all my assignments"

"However, there seems to have been some bad luck following you...Would you
care to comment on that?"

Taking a big gulp of the tea after listening to his words she took a deep
breath.

"Be at ease Sam...I wont bite."

Looking down into the cup as if the amber liquid held the answer to his
difficult question. Then looking up into his understanding eyes,
"Well...sir...I..."

The captain sipped his tea and watched her.

"I do work hard and learn all I can about every assignment, all the
personnel, the ships, planets...whatever."

"So it is noted..."

"But ever since I was a child I seem to have been a bit..."

He patiently allows her to continue.

"I guess the word is 'accident prone'."

He raised an eyebrow as he watched her explain.

"I do try my best, but things just seem to happen. I thought it was just a
stage in my teenage years, you know...awkward stage. But I never seemed to
outgrow it."

"Humm... well, I'm sure that it is just a series of coincidences."

"Yes sir." She replied without really convincing herself.

"Well, lets see what we can do to overcome that, shall we?"

Working a bit harder to smile, "But I've never actually been convicted of
any wrong doing." Her smile quivered a bit as she looked back at her tea,
"Things just sort of seem to happen when I'm around."

"I'm confident that in your new role you wont be plagued by that any more."

"Thank you sir, I'd like to try to change it as well." Gaining a bit more
confidence from his attitude, she began feeling that maybe she really could
begin anew here. "From this moment on," she added.

The captain stood, "Well, lots to do and very little time, the crew should
be arriving in the next day or so."

"Yes sir," She replied while standing, following his cue.

He held out his hand to her.

Going to reach for his hand, realizing she had her cup in it, moved the cup
carefully to the other hand took his.

"Sam... I am looking forward to working with you...I'm sure that you will be
an excellent number one."

Flashing him very genuine, sweet smile as she shook his hand, her blue eyes
sparkling framed by her blonde hair. Looking pretty and normal, not giving
away any marks or notice of accidents on her face or hair.

"You are always to act with the full authority in my absence."

"Thank you for your confidence in me sir. I won't let you down."

"You are the XO of a fine vessel and there will be 314 folks looking to you
for direction. If you ever have any questions please don't hesitate to ask
me."

"Aye sir. Anything you want me to start working on before the crew arrives
sir?"

"Well, once the 2nd Officer and his folks show up get the supplies squared
away
let me know of any priority shipments."

"Yes sir."

"Other than that just get out and meet the crew. Any questions Sam?"

"No sir. I'm happy to be serving with you sir."

"And I you. Dismissed."

Smiling, hoping she really can start over this time, "Aye sir."

Taking the tea cups he watched her leave.

She tried to turn crisply on her heal to make a nice military exit.... but
turned too quickly and caught the corner of the door jam with her forehead.
Reeling back just a moment...recovering and walking out the door without
looking back.

The captain's face went blank as he watched her. Then he walked over to the
replicator and set the cups in there. "Computer, get me a full read out on
all medical reports for Commander Samantha Otter." ~~I wonder how many
concussions she has had~~ Sitting back down at his desk, muttering to
himself as he waited for the reports, "Pretty lil' thing though."

Glad there was no crew on the bridge yet as she made her way back to her
quarters. She felt her forehead as she entered the TL and changed her
directions to the lift. "Sick bay." Wiping the blood off on her slacks
casually and waiting for the
TL to get to the SB patiently...assuming she'll get to know the place pretty
well.

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Destination : Sloop John B?

Sulu : "She's supposed to have a transwarp drive..."
Scotty : "Aye, and if my grandmother had a wheel, she'd be a wagon!"
-- Sulu and Scotty discussing the Excelsior, ST3 : "The Search for Spock"

Anne Benjamin never particularly liked being called on the carpet, but it was
particularly bad to be standing in her father's office, at home, at
attention, late Christmas Eve.
"Anne Riggs Benjamin, when will you ever shape up?" Admiral Jonathan
Benjamin slapped a PADD down on his desk. "Jean Paul LeBeau's family hasn't
got a quarter of the Starfleet history we do, but look what a damn fine
officer he's shaping up to be! You could learn a thing or two from him!"
Anne had cringed at the mention of JP. Boy, if I ever landed on the same
ship as him, I'd never hear the end of it. And knowing Dad, he'd pay Digger
off to keep an eye on me or something! She'd heard her father mention in
glowing terms several times "what a fine young officer" the LeBeau boy was
turning into. Personally, she thought he had all the charm of a fox, who'd
smile in your face while swiping chickens behind its back. But she
stayed silent, letting her father's anger run its course.
He sighed heavily, rubbing at his forehead. "I just don't know what to do
with you anymore, Annie. You get a temporary assignment at Lunar Station
until a permanent posting comes through, and you can't even stay out of
trouble there! Now, if you recall, the deal between us was that you spend
five years in Starfleet after graduation, and then you're free to do whatever
you like. What is so difficult about this, Anne?" His green
eyes were troubled as he regarded his wayward daughter. "And this incident
at the Station! It's so paltry I can't even believe your XO gave you this
reprimand." He shook his head again. "I am getting tired of pulling strings
to haul your ass out of hot water, lil' lady, and frankly, since you know
you're pretty much contracted to Starfleet for the next five years, I don't
know why you don't attempt to make the best out of it while you're
there."
Oh, I'll make the best of it, all right, she thought. There is more than one
way to skin a cat!
He stood up, looking at her not unkindly. "You should have an assignment
coming through either tomorrow or the day after. Maybe getting you back out
in space somewhere is what you need. Perhaps things are too confining for you
here, hmm?" He sighed. "Annie, darlin', I just want you to be happy, but
you also need more discipline in your life than you have."
As if growing up an Admiral's daughter wasn't discipline enough! She bit
her lip to keep from making any smart comments. Being the daughter of an
Admiral was a lot like being a Catholic school girl...... the more you were
denied freedoms, the more you went out of the way to find them.
Jonathan walked around the desk and put his hands on her shoulders.
"Honey... you know I only want what's best for you." He leaned forward and
gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Now, you should get to bed, honey. I know
you were up very early this morning." He gave her a hug. "I love you,
honey, but please, behave yourself." He headed out of his office, leaving
Anne to the silence.

~ * ~

Two days later the assignment came : the USS Fragglerock.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
From the Office of the Department of Personnel
=/\= Starfleet Transport Command =/\=
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Notification of Pending Duty Reassignment
Stardate 9812.23

You are hereby notified that you are to report to the USS Fragglerock, NCC
99099, currently docked at berth 03A, Starbase McKinley, not later than 00:01
SD9901.02. The above authorization number is approved to secure up to level 3
transport for yourself and your personal goods.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

The Admiral made it clear what his feelings were on the subject, that it was
"not a ship befitting a Benjamin," but that as far as he was concerned, he
was tired of pulling strings for Anne, and he was not going to find a switch
in assignments for her.
"You're damn lucky you can even get on a ship, Annie," he told her frankly.
"A little better attitude at the Academy could have gone a long way now."
She sighed to herself as she accessed the databanks about her new
assignment. It was some 30-year-old non-refitted ship that didn't even have
holodecks! Although her position as Procurement Officer certainly had .....
possibilities.
And the first thing I'm gonna procure us is some HD supplies.... She turned
to the computer and began making some discreet inquiries, glad that she took
the time to find out what her father's clearance codes were.

~ * ~

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Afterthoughts

time : just after Anne & Digger's conversation

Anne watched JP walk away, and she could feel her temper fuming. Gods, was
she getting tired of that little "pep talk"! That "why not just make the best
of things, Anne, hon?" talk.
With an angry growl, she kicked the nearest container, glad the regulation
boots were solid enough that she didn't break her toe. She slumped down onto
the container next to it, and rubbed her eyes. Jean Paul "Digger" LeBeau, of
all the damn people to be on this ship, and worst of all, Second Officer....
shit, things couldn't be much worse if he'd been XO or CO, for crying out
loud!!....
She tried to remember if she had seen his name on any of the ship
information she had pulled up before leaving home, but she didn't recall as
such. She was pretty sure that would have stuck out in her mind. Best she
could figure out, the Captain was some guy who'd been married to a Commodore.
After he transferred to another ship, and a new post, they'd gotten divorced
and then he'd gotten a promotion, to here. She hadn't seen a lot on
the XO; and the rest of the crew... well they seemed pretty hand-picked, from
what she'd seen of the manifest.
She sighed in satisfaction, picking up her bags and going to find her
quarters. Hopefully the privates had gotten her crates there safely....

... She opened the doors to her quarters and groaned. Good god, these
weren't quarters, it was a closet!
Anne shoved her way past the boxes stacked at the door, and threw her bags
on her bed. This was it? Jeez, she was lucky to have a window, even though
from here she looked out at the backside of the ship. She plopped down on the
bed beside her bags, not bothering to check out what was probably an equally
miniscule bathroom, and plotted a way to liven up the last few evenings until
launch......

[tbc]

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(takes place after "Afterthoughts")

Up To No Darn Good . . . As Usual


time : mere hours before launch

PO3C Anne Benjamin and Crewman Nick McConaughey were standing by outside
hatch twelve, locking their helmets on. Anne tapped at the PADD she held in
one gloved hand, making final ajdustments, before slipping it into the pocket
designed to hold it on her EVA suit.
Nick looked over at her and grinned. "We're gonna be in deep doo-doo about
this, you do understand that, don't you?" He wasn't quite sure how the
charming petty officer had managed to sweet-talk him into helping her, but he
didn't care. Nick had been a bit of a rabble-rouser in his day, serving ten
years on various Federation cargo ships. The Frag to him was merely another
assignment.
"Of course." She smiled, then reached over to seal the latch on the inside
door. If somebody, by some completely odd chance, noticing them out on the
hull, she had a PADD full of clearances marked "maintenance duty," something
that was de riguer in the last 24 hours before a launch. Sure, 2 to 4 am was
an odd time to be doing it, but she had the paperwork to "prove" that was
when they had been scheduled.
The outer hull door opened, and they walked out onto the hull, their
electro-magnetic boots keeping them adhered to the hull as they went. They
were on the dark side of the "neck" of the Frag, the section that connected
the saucer to the engineering hull. As far as Anne was concerned they were
walking across one big, empty canvas. Lights from SBMcKinley lit up parts of
the upper saucer, and parts of the nacelles and engineering hull below
them. The part they walked on lay in darkness, illuminated only by the faint
glow reflected from the nacelles below.
Anne had always loved this, being out on the hull, nothing but a faceplate
between her and a full view of the cosmos. Unfortunately she had no time to
look at it right now.
There was a brief shimmer on the hull before them, and many of the lights
of the ship briefly flared. "Must've been a power surge," Anne commented,
and she heard Nick's responsive chuckle through the EVA suit's system.
They stopped on the edge of something new on the hull, which gave a
slightly glossly reflection. "Here we go," Anne commented. "I'll seal, you
shine."
"Ten-four." Nick chuckled again, and they turned on their equipment. Anne
carried a portable heat sealant; what Nick carried supposedly was a buffer.
Instead it would produce a layer of dense, hull-grey particles that would
cover their handiwork in a faint layer held in check by the ship's
containment field until the ship went to warp. Once the ship went to warp,
the particles would blow away like space dust, and reveal the bold insignia
beneath.
Anne was proud of her work. The huge insignia had a navy-blue circle around
a field of stars with the motto "We deliver for you," on the ring. A proud
eagle took flight and the ship's name was emblazoned in red. The motto and
the eagle were a nod to an antique postal system. The defiant gleam in the
eagle's eye showed their pride. She simply wanted to give the ship some
distinction, a mark of pride.
She was going to be neck-deep in doo-doo, that's all there was to it. If
she was really lucky, she'd get her butt thrown out of Starfleet immediately.

They worked quickly. Anne had rigged the various transporters aboard to
beam the strips that made up the insignia into place on the hull. Nick had
rigged the power surge which would cover their tracks. Anne moved now quickly
over their handiwork, the device she carried sealing it onto the hullplates.
Nick moved assuredly behind her, doing a reverse vacuum job.
Two hours later, the tired but laughing duo made their way back to the
hatch. Their work wouldn't be discovered until their first mission was well
underway.


~ * ~

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Digger was not feeling good this morning. It was just a few days
before the launch of the Frag, which occurred just after New Year's Day.
To Digger this was the most fitting send off he could think of. An
entire crew of Starfleet misfits launching while still nursing heavy
hangovers. His own left him barely able to read the reports that were
crossing his desk.
So far he had taken the opportunity to meet a great deal of the
crew. The weird thing about it was they actually seemed like decent
people. He expected thugs, criminals, jerks and such after he read
through the personal files he had gotten his hands on. Most of the
crew seemed like normal people. He thought some had a few screws
loose but all in all they seemed decent. The Chief Engineer might need
a check up, he seemed to wander around confused a little. Anne, of
course, was Anne. He was still a little nervous about a crewman
named Dip. Every time he saw him the guy was looking at consols and
pressing whatever buttons looked the prettiest. It was, to say the least,
an interesting crew.
So far he had been very lucky. He was avoiding the Captain for as
long as he could. He knew he was going to be in for some trouble after
taking so long to report for duty. Sure he was playing it a little
childish,
but hell, look where he was. He had no idea what to expect of the
Captain, but he wasn't taking any chances. If he could make it all the
way to the launch without running into him maybe he'd forget.
LeBeau made his way through the halls, all of this running through
his aching head. As he walked he passed Anne and gave her just a
smile and a nod. He didn't want to get into another discussion with
her in his condition. She barely seemed to notice as she walked
on giggling. He thought he smelled paint but dismissed it. He
headed back to his quarters thinking that this was going to be an
interesting cruise.

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"Digger get's ready to go."

LeBeau sat at the bar with his old friend Steve Ames. Ames was
tactical man just the same as LeBeau. They had served together on
USS Dos Equis, LeBeau's first assignment. They were good friends
and as Digger looked at his friend he could see he was about to
hear it. When you're a guy there is only one way to show you care, by
laying on the insults as deep and thick as possible.
"Congrats on the new assignment Digger.... I hear she's quiet a
ship!" Steve broke into laughter at the end of the sentence. Even
LeBeau had to chuckle. He knew he was being nailed by the Admiral,
but he wasn't one to sit back in pity.
"Yeah yeah yeah. I know. It'll look great on my record. So what did
you do on your prior assignments LeBeau? Oh I hauled grain from one
side of the universe to the other. Thanks to me the farmers on BFE IV
were able to plant another season. Could be worse... I thought Entragian
was going to stuff me in a penal colony."
"You're my hero! The Admiral's daughter eh? Man, when you mess
up you really mess up!" Steve was holding his gut as he laughed.
"Tell me about it! How was I supposed to know? She seemed like
a normal girl to me. Next thing I know I'm working with the Teamsters!"
"You're right man, it could be worse. It could be me!" LeBeau
finished his beer while holding back his own laughter. Steve held
up a finger as if to say 'hold on, I've got another thought that'll make
you want to rip Entragian's head off'. "I hear you don't even have
a holodeck. What's that all about?"
"We're there to haul stuff back and forth. I guess it's not needed.
I'm sneaking on a portable basketball hoop and setting it up in one of
the cargo bays. I don't know if that's against regs or not but who cares?
What are they gonna do? Bust me down? Besides.. I'm more worried
about my private stash of alcohol I'm bringing. They find that and I'm
up a creek. The Captain will probably move it to his private stash!"
Steve nodded and finished his own beer. The waitress was there
with a refill for both men before Steve set down his bottle. They
were both very well known at this bar. "So what's the plan? I know
you. There's no way Digger's giving up!"
"I might have an opportunity to redeem myself. An old friend of
the family, Admiral Benjamin, has made me a little offer. His daughters
been put on the ship. I don't know what she did to get stuck here but,
if I keep his daughter out of trouble he might help me out. She's a little
on the wild side but oh well." LeBeau smiled as he cracked open his
new bottle.
"That's great. Yeah, you take care of a girl. That's a little like
putting a diabetic in a candy company."
"I know, but she's an old friend of the family so... you know how
it is." LeBeau said holding back his smile™.
"Yeah... why have one Admiral ticked at you when you can have
two?" Steve said laughing once again. "So does this thing even
have indoor plumbing?"
Steve shook his head and decided that another beer was not the
answer. He ordered a round of shots.

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"Computer, open a communication log to Steve Ames,
USS Dos Equis"
Log open, begin when ready.
"Steve, old buddy! You would not believe what this assignment is
turning out to be. I'm runnning a cargo bay that I think some admiral
is trying to turn into a smuggling operation! We're supposed to be
transporting some big boxes for some Admiral "Stick-up-the-but" or
something. He actually had a security detail assigned to these things!
Anyway ... the shipment was deemed important enough to take
priority over a medical shipment. Well .... after a little incident
involving our XO and a lack of coordination, the boxes came open.
The creep was transporting a brand new set up golf clubs and some
four wheelers! My God rank has it's privilages! The Captain found
out and .... keep this under your hat .... we now have some new toys.
I just finished converting a small section of the cargo bay into a driving
range .... three tees and four hundred yards to the wall. One of my
officers did a great job of hunting up fake grass for this little game.
I've got two cases of champaign down on the first person to even hit
the three hundred yard mark. The bets are on!"
"Computer, close log."
Log closed.

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Why are we here, what's life all about?
Is God really real, or is there some doubt?
Well tonight, we're going to sort it all out
For tonight it's the Meaning of Life.
~ Monty Python, "The Meaning of Life"

New Meaning, Old Questions

Anne relaxed after Captain Jack had walked out of the small auxillary cargo
bay, leaving her to her contraband. He had asked her if she knew anything
about a large insignia. She denied it. He'd ripped off her PO3C stripes and
handed her new PO2C stripes and pips. Then he had smiled, saluted, and left
her to her very confused thoughts.
I paint a massive insignia on the side of the ship... with paint
mysteriously procured... the Captain asks me about it, I deny it, I get
promoted? She shook her head. This is a weird ship... but so far I like it!
Not having a sewing kit handy, she stuffed the new rank insignia in her
pocket until later.
At least he hadn't asked what was in these boxes, she reflected as she
picked up her PADD once more and completed her inventory. What was she going
to say? A holodeck setup, "courtesy" of Admiral Benjamin, sir! She had the
Engineering skills to put it together, now she just had to figure out where
to put it. If she could find two empty quarters above one another, that could
work. Or perhaps one of the smaller cargobays. She had
the hardware to wire its systems up semi-independently from the ship's main
systems, thus allowing it to look as if there was no excess drain on the
ship's resources.
She walked over to the work monitor and pulled up ship schematics, and began
going over the decks one by one. Hmmm.........

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=/\= Personal Log =/\=
Captain Jack SaintDuiex
SD 9901.09

I have observed most of the crew since we left McKinley Station. Some
thoughts... first thing is Commodore Binghamton.
She seems like a fine officer but very much "by the book". As the Squadron
Commander she has decided to make the Frag her flagship, which means she may
actually be sailing with us at times. Jeeze... as if things are not tough
enough. Oh well... now... the first officer....
Commander Otter seems to be a very capable, if klutzy person. I think that
in her effort to get things done she "over does" things and that is what
causes her injuries. Well, hopefully we can get her to relax before she kills
herself.
Our second officer seems to be very competent as well. Actually, if I read
his service records correctly he is too competent for a supply ship.
Obviously a story is hidden there but I'll let it alone and take advantage of
his skills for as long as I have him.
Then there is Ensign Shyte. He too seems very capable but a bit clumsy at
times. His quick work of the bottle launcher saved the day. I did get a quick
note from Ky Akerio, an old friend who was on McKinley. It seems that he met
with Dip and, while he did not go into details (doctor/paitent gibberish or
something) he did give me a formal "heads up" to keep an eye on Dip. Time
will tell.
I also found out that our Union Rep, Mr "Bull" Shyte, is Ensign Shyte's
brother. I'm sure there is a story there waiting to be told. I have asked Sam
to set up a meeting with Bull, Digger, herself, and I to get to know each
other and work out any union issues with the cargo handlers.
Petty Officer Decatur... I had very little interaction with Mr Decatur
however he seems very savvy about his job. I've asked Digger to get him and
Benjamin to ding into who was sending the clubs and ATV's. I'm sure that Nick
will dig up what I am looking to find. Probably turn out to be some crusty
old admiral who was doing a favor for a friend or a family member. We will
see.
Doctor Thang... she seems competent and quite a looker too! Right now I have
her checking on the medical supplies to make sure we have what we are
supposed to have prior to our arrival in the Larguess System. I will need to
schedule some time to meet with her.
Lieutenant Amnesia... we have not yet met as he just got aboard prior to our
departure. Like Sek'zi, I need to make some time to meet with Dmitri and chat
a bit. As the Chief engineer aboard a very old starship I am sure he will
have his hands full. Which reminds me I need to get him to take a look at the
replicators...
Petty Officer Anne De'Nother Thyng... well, she missed our departure. Not a
good start but I'm sure she had a reason. Hopefully she can catch up to us
soon.
Petty Officer Anne Benjamin... now there is an enigma... she seems capable
of so much yet seems to hold back, not willing to commit herself completely
to Starfleet. I did promote her to Petty Officer Second Class, more for her
initiative and "courage" to do what she did than for anything else. Time will
tell with this one... I'll speak with Digger and Nick and see what their
thoughts are.

-End Log-

- Cap'n Jack -

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"Houston, We Have a Problem"
by Dmitri

After several hours of wondering around the ship, searching for his
quarters, Amnesia finally found his quarters. He placed his new Ficus plant
in one corner and his beet plant on the coffee table. The anti-grav sled, he
pushed into the bedroom area.
He walked over to the replicator to grab a snack.
"Computer... a Borscht flavored pudding pop please,"
The replicator beeped compliance and began to "shimmer" the food into
existence.
What came out of the replicator was not' a Borsht Pop.
Several Top Flight Golf Balls™ lay on the replication plate, where his
Pudding Pop should have been.
"This is SLTG," he said as he pushed the self diagnostic button on the
replicator.
The readout indicated that the entire Matter Replicating database had been
wiped out and replaced with the program for Top Flight Golf Balls™.
"What's a matter Replicating Database?" he wondered as he reached for his
comm badge.
"Houston we have a problem..." he said after touching the badge.
"There is no one onboard by that name," the computer replied.
"Well, you do I call if there is a problem?" he asked rhetorically.
"Please specify the nature of the problem, for proper communication
routing," computer replied.
Sighing heavily, he walked to the anti-grav sled and began to search
through his Technical Manuals....

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The Taming of the Shrew?


time : takes place approximately an hour and a half after our last sim,
after Anne's visit to Sickbay (log to come about that ;)

NICK PUT A REASSURING ARM over Anne's shoulders as they entered the turbolift
outside of Sickbay, and Anne gave her quarter's deck number. The turbolift
quietly hummed along, and she was acutely, and uncomfortably, aware of his
closeness and presumed familiarity.
They walked down the corridor once leaving the TL, and stopped outside of
her door. Nick turned to face her, lifting her chin to look down into her
intense blue eyes. "I'm glad you're okay," he said in his charming Texan
drawl... or at least she normally found it charming, but at the moment her
skin was crawling and she was beginning to wonder what she'd ever seen in
him.
"Thanks for looking out for me," she replied, giving a smile and trying
to step out from under his arms. "I appreciate it."
"Hey, what else could I do? Whoa, hey, where you going so fast?" He
smiled again, tightening his hand on her shoulder to stop her.
She turned back to face him, attempting to paste what she hoped was a
sufficiently pitiful look of fatigue on her face. "I'm really tired, Nick, I
need some rest or something."
"Or something." He grinned and then suddenly leaned closer, to kiss her.
Startled, she couldn't respond for a moment, but as his attentions became
more insistant, one of his hands sliding posessively up her torso as he
pressed against her, she grabbed her senses together and shoved against him.
He mistook the motion, and grabbing at her, went to pull her closer.
Frustrated, she raised her foot and kicked him hard in the shin.
"Yowwwwww!!!" That got his attention, and he jumped back. Before he had a
chance to get himself together and react, she slammed her mean right hook
into his chin, and as he stagged back, a confused and pissed look on his
face, she darted into her quarters.
"Computer close and secure door, authorization Benjamin beta four!" The
words came out in a rush and the doors shut in Nick's face. She heard the
satisfying click of the lock mechanism, and she sagged relievedly against her
couch, panting.
"Anne! C'mon! Let me in!"
She could hear him knocking on the door. "Computer, lights, twenty
percent." The lights rose softly. She took a deep breath to steady herself.
"Go away, Nick! Can't you take a hint? Or do I need to come out there and
kick you in the lihaa?"
"Anne....." She heard him slump against the door. "You led me on!"
She glared at the door. If she could have shot fire out of her eyes, the
door would have exploded out into the hallway. "I was unconcious! How could
I lead you on?"
"Oh come on... before that! You're such the little tease, always
flirting... you have led me on ever since you recruited me into your scheme
for the paint job!"
She sagged against the arm of the couch. Tease? Flirt? Led him on? She
remembered her friend Erin Klyne once making a comment along those lines,
telling her she was going to get herself into trouble one day because of it.
She put a hand to her face, trying not to completely lose it at that moment.
"Just go away, Nick. Please!! I need to recover from the accident."
"Fine! Be that way! And get yourself some other guy to jerk around!" she
heard him bang against the door once, and then silence, so she presumed he
had left.

t b c i n M e a s u r e F o r M e a s u r e

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Measure For Measure


time : immediately after "Taming of the Shrew?"

ANNE GOT UP AND WALKED OVER TO HER REPLICATOR. "Orange-cranberry juice
blend, ten degrees Celcius." Anne removed the glass that materialized, and
drank it down in one shot, before putting the glass back for reclimation.
She kicked off her boots, and then climbed up into the sleeping loft she'd
constructed for herself, and pulled her sky-blue quilt up to her chin.
"Computer, night setting for lights." The lights around the room immediately
dimmed, replaced by the faint bluish glow that came from the nacelles a
couple hundred feet directly across from her windows. She rolled over so that
she could look out the windows, watching the stars slowly shift beyond the
window.
Anne screwed her eyes up and took a deep breath, letting it out in a jagged
sigh. Who was she kidding? She didn't belong in Starfleet. She was a
disappointment to generations of Benjamins. She couldn't even figure out why
Captain Jack had seen fit to give her the promotion.
Anne opened her eyes and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes
felt hot and she knew it was simply a matter of time before her the damn
opened up and she would cry. But it would feel strangely good.
She wanted... she wanted... her own thoughts startled her and she groaned.
Why, for the love of Shakespeare, did she want to go see Digger, of all
people? What would she say anyway? "Hi, I need a hug"?
JP's father and her own had known each other from when they were even
younger than she was now. She had known him all her life, but since he was a
few years older than her, not particularly well. He had hung out with her
brothers, Todd and Brad, and sometimes Eric. They were all a couple years
older with her, so even though she got along well with her brothers, she was
affectionately referred to as 'the Pest' or 'Twerp'. Even the last time
she'd seen Digger before the assignment, sometime at Christmas, he'd passed
her with a, "Hey, Twerp!"
Oh gods, had she had a crush on him in high school! A big one. It was weird
at times, though, because in some ways he was like having a fifth brother.
However... she was female... and as such, despite her familiarity with him,
she was definately not immune to his casual good looks, friendly attitude and
never-ending charm. But familiarity also bred contempt, because her father
kept shoving what a 'great example of prime
officer material' Digger was down her throat, and she couldn't help but be a
little -- what? jealous? of the attentions he got.
No, he wouldn't understand. He probably still regarded her as the Benjamin's
little sister, the one who was always trying to tag along, the little tomboy
in pigtails, after her brothers.
She had been daddy's little girl, the family princess, and always regarded
as the baby of the family, even once she had reached adulthood. Maybe that's
why she acted like she did, running away after Brad's death, and her constant
misbehavior and attempts for attention.
Truth be told, inside, she was far less wild and crazy than everybody
thought she was. She had sowed some wild oats... but even they had been
conservatively sewn. She was remarkably underexperienced in love, in sex, in
emotional commitments. It was true, she'd once almost posed for GOTF... It
was supposed to be a tasteful set of shots, with careful positioning of props
and limbs to keep certain private things private. While it
had been intended to shock her father, she was pretty sure that to this day,
he hadn't heard about it. And even that she'd done more on a dare than
anything, and had chickened out at the last moment.
No... truth be told, she had put up a lot of emotional walls, and she used
sarcasm and flirting and wit to keep people at arm's length. She was
uncertain of herself, and in a desire to not be told how to conform, instead
rebelled simply for form's sake at every opportunity she got.
Why did she fight so much, so often... why wouldn't she let anybody in...
why did she run away any time it seemed somebody was getting close to her?
Questions hung over her, and she didn't even acknowledge them. She was lonely
and uncertain, and wouldn't admit it even to herself.
After a while, slept claimed her, and she passed blissfully into a night of
dreamless sleep.

~ * ~

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Samantha's Solution

"Finally," she said under her breath as she slipped into her room with the
tiny tube she managed to get from a source she promised not to reveal.
Samantha looked in the mirror and with her free hand pulled away the locks of
her long blond hair that hid her bald spot. She was glad to have the one
thing that would grow back hair and fill in that embarrassment once and for
all. She was also tired of trying to protect the careful hair sculpting job
she
did every morning from being mussed. The person she had been spending the
most time with on ship's business lately was the captain and she thought
maybe he had seen the spot, because she caught his eyes lingering a bit two
long on her hair. Samantha had found herself in more than one meeting
reaching up self-consciously to make sure the spot was sufficiently
concealed.

She set the tube down on the counter by the mirror and decided she had better
take a shower and wash her hair first before applying it and going to bed.
She turned the faucets on while she began to disrobe. Samantha always
enjoyed indulging in a real hot water shower rather than a sonic
shower....especially after that one incident. She shuddered a moment
thinking about it and shook it off as a bad memory.

After some time in the hot shower she felt much better. She used the shower
not only as a way to get clean, but thought it helped in running off the
worries of the days work and relaxing before heading to bed. It also gave
her an opportunity to do a "bruise and scrape" inspection on her body. After
drying off and slipping into a short nightgown she went back into the steamy
bathroom. Wiping a spot on the foggy mirror she took the Rogaine 3000 in
her hand and carefully removed the top. Before she realized that the tube
was a bit warmer than it was before she went into the shower, the cap was off
in her hand and a runny string of the Rogaine concoction was slipping out of
the top and down to the floor without her even squeezing the tube.

"Damn it," She backed up quickly. She grabbed a towel and wiped off the
floor and her feet where the runny solution had touched. She then wet the
towel and wiped it all some more. With a sigh of relief she saw her accident
had no repercussions and wrapped the towel carefully for later disposal.
Very carefully this time she took an applicator and spread a little of the
mixture on her bald spot...seeing some growth in a very short time. She
wrapped another towel around her head and happily capped the tube and went to
her bed.

Going over the days events in her mind as she commanded the computer to turn
off her lights, she dreamed of her long golden locks being back to normal as
she drifted to sleep.

*****

"The time is now 600 hours, your duty shift begins in one hour."

Samantha pretty much ignored the computer and groggily wipped her eyes. She
remembered the night before and quickly felt her head for any developments.
She giggled with excitement as she felt the length the hair had grown just
over night and was glad she wouldn't have to hide her "accident" any more.

Flipping the covers back she sleepily swung her feet over the side of the bed
as she sat up...pausing a moment to mentally prepare for the day ahead.
"That's weird, I must have been pretty tired last night....I guess I forgot
to take of my fuzzy slippers."

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Personal Log
Jacques SaintDuiex
USS Fragglerock, NCC 99099
Stardate 9901.11

I understand from the CMO's report that POC2 Benjamin was treated for a head
injury due to "a pipe that fell in a closet". I don't know what she is up to
now but I think it is about time that she and I had a talk.
The XO seems to be getting into the swing of things with very little
noticable injuries. Perhaps she has shaken her "klutzy" stigma or whatever it
was that followed her around Starfleet to date.
The 2nd officer seems exceptionaly capable and has really proven to be on
the ball. I can not figure out why an officer like that is not on the front
lines of the war.
Some less happy issues have arisen. Bull Shyte, the Union Rep, died of
injuries sustained during an altercation with some Cargo Handlers. The
offeders have been turned over to Starfleet.
Ensign Dip Shyte has seemingly resigend his commission. It seems that the
death of his brother was too much for him. He had the potential to be a fine
officer and will be missed.
I did receive a subspace message from my old pal Zip where he attempted to
clue me in on our new CMO. It seems that there was an "altercation" with her
old CO and she has been "banished" to the nither regions of Starfleet, also
known as supply.
And, finally, our Chief Engineer. He is quite the beet fanatic and seems to
have quite the green thumb with his Fiscus plant. In any case, I'm hopeful
that he will be able to find the parts he needs for teh replicators at the
unoffical Stafleet "junkyard" that we are heading to. Otherwise it is back to
Starbase McKinley and I am sure that will piss off Commodore Binghamton to
see her flagship of "Supply Squardron 4077" returning because we broke the
replicators making golf balls.
I'm hopeful that our new Security Officer will be joining us soon.
Additionally I have a list of some other new crewmembers that shoudl be
joiing us shortly, we could use the help.


- Cap'n Jack -

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=/\=
Personal Log
Lt. Dmitri I. Amnesia
SD 59901.17

::OPEN LOG::

"....I have finished unpack my stuff. Somehow in addition to my beet plants,
I managed to acquire a new Ficus Plant.
My first assignment on board the Fragg, went well and I solved most of the
replicator problems. I just don't understand how that starbase supply guy
could deny us the parts!!! Maybe he is mentally unstable...
I spent much of yesterday exploring the deck by deck arrangements on the
Frag. Apparently there is a small Arboretum on board. I wonder if I could
plant some beet plants. The beets could serve as a supplement to our food
supplies... I'll have to figure out who's in charge of the arboretum.
All is going well and I am scheduled to "explore" the new 18 hole golf
course and ATV racing tracks on Cargo Deck A...."

::CLOSE LOG::

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Samantha's Really Bad Hair Day
(Later the same day as the hair on the feet thingy)

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" Samantha jumped suddenly, screaming and jumping around as
if doing some sort of ancient tribal dance. "Damn damn damn!!" She ran into
the bathroom and turned on the cold water before she stripped off her slacks
and panties as fast as she could without falling on the floor (not an easy
feat for her). Splashing the cold water on her crotch area she breathed a
little sigh, "Ahhhhh...better." Looking down she examined the
damage...her upper lap was a bright pink blotchy color where the piping hot
chocolate had spilled. "Next time I'm ordering it at a lower temperature,"
she mumbled to herself as she reached for a balled up towel on the counter.
She began dabbing carefully in and around her crotch, upper thighs and a bit
on her back side where the water had slipped through her legs.

She thoughtlessly threw the towel back in the corner of the counter and
walked half naked to her dresser drawer to get some panties. She stood in
front of the dresser for a moment and rummaged through the multi colored silk
undergarments. Pausing her rifling for a moment she lifted up her shirt and
looked at which color bra she was wearing. She chuckled to her self thinking
"yeah right...like anyone around here is going to see if they
match"...then remembering what her mother always told her about what would
happen if you got hit by a car and clean underwear and some other such
nonsense, she decided...with her accident track record perhaps it was a good
idea to prepare and look her best down to her skin. She took a bit more time
and not finding the pair that matched her red bra she grabbed a matching
black satin bra and undies with lace border. She doffed her shirt and laid
it
on the bed, then took off her bra and put it on the dresser. Putting on the
new bra, always proud of her ample bosom she leaned over a bit and shifted to
make sure everything was in place. She often wondered if being large on the
top sent her balance out of whack and that's why she ran into things.

Her reverie was broken as she started to step into her small black satin
panties. As she got them to her thigh level she noted some sort of blondish
growth. She stood up straight and looked in the mirror. Being a natural
blonde she was blonde all over...but now....!! She looked again and right
before her very eyes she saw new hair growth between her legs and down the
front of her thighs. "Oh No...NO!" She turned quickly and looked in the
mirror
and saw the lower part of her tush was suffering the same hairy development.
Then, just as slowly as the light comes up over the horizon, it dawned on
her..."THE TOWEL!!"

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"Five Guys walk into a bar... make that about 300 bars..."

LeBeau pulled up the data on his computer. It listed a new
message from Trent Davis of the Outpost Cousteau. He remembered
meeting Trent a few weeks prior while he had been hanging out at
some bar called Finn's. Trent was an interesting guy in some ways
but he seemed a little too overconfident, a little too sure of himself.
The guy must live half of his life with the taste of his foot in his mouth.
Digger had to show at least some respect though, as the guy out ranked
him. The rest of the crew had seemed ok. Seth Cotis from the Sarajevo
was a trip if there ever was one. This guy could drink his body weight
and come back for seconds. Then there was Randal Flagg of the
Stealth. Here was a guy caught between brown nose and smart ass.
What a collection. There was another guy Cotis was talking about,
Chris Back, some higher up from the Potemkin. They met in passing
and LeBeau almost choked when he saw this guy wearing the
Lt Commander pips. He could only guess that the standards must have
been lowered drastically as of late. Maybe it was a little early to be
making judgments about the guy, but who really cared? It wasn't
like he would see him again.
He turned on his incoming message and waited to see what
Trent would want. They barely knew each other so why would he
be calling up? As the screen lit up he saw Trent. His hair was
perfect, probably took about an hour for this guy to do it. He smiled
in a way that almost seemed dangerous. Like a rabid dog trying to
be cute.
"Digger! I know you're probably busy running the boat or whatever
you do on that transport ship but I have some cool news for you. I've
been contacted by Seth. You remember him from the bar right? I hope
so cuz if you were that gone you won't know who this is. We're going
to go see the beautiful babies. Get to your Captain now and tell him
you're taking a week LOA. We're going to Mardi Gras baby! This is
going to be just sweet. Chris... that geek you met on your way out...
invited Seth and a few others. The others fell through so Seth invited
us and that kid... what's his name.... Randal. We have reservations for
a nice little hotel on Bourbon Street. I don't know if you've ever been
but you're going now. Pack up baby cuz the good times are about to
begin. You can get in touch with me at the station. I'll attach a data
file of where to reach Randal and Seth. Back's already on LOA from
the Temp, I don't think he was able to handle all of his responsibilities...
the geek. Get ready to live for fun. Start stockpiling beads, bring some
sunglasses, and I hope you like 'Hand Grenades' and H*A*B*T*G*.
Talk to ya soon. Trent out."
As the message ended Digger could only think two things.
A) Trent was a freaking geek. Of course Digger was familiar with
Mardi Gras, Bourbon Street, and all of that. He was from New Orleans,
for Christ's sake. B) He hadn't had a "Hand Grenade' drink in a while.
Those things were sweet. It had a mixture of alcohol that no other
drink in New Orleans could rival.... at least not for the tourists. Of
course the H*A*B*T*G*... also called the Huge A** Beer To Go, was
something he could really use now. A week away from the new
assignment sounded like fun. Hell, Mardi Gras sounded like fun. He
was going with four guys he barely knew, but oh well.
He sent his reply affirming that he could make it as he started
noting his request for a LOA to the Captain.

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Fresh n' Innocent as a New-Born Babe...
Petty Officer 2nd Class Anne Benjamin
USS Fragglerock

Time : today, late

Anne Benjamin walked into the suite that would one day, if she could manage
it, become a holodeck.
Suite 5A on this deck and the floor above had been gutted, the floor
removed between the two levels, and the necessary rewiring completed. The
databanks for the 'deck had been installed, and multiple files had been
downloaded into the DBs. The flooring had been laid, and initial contacts had
been installed in the walls.
There was still plenty to do before anybody could access the HD and
actually use them, that was for certain. She really needed to sit down with
the Captain and discuss what she was doing, but she was half-afraid he'd tell
her to dismantle it. At least if it was completed, she'd have something
worthwhile to show him.
She walked over to the toolbox in the center of the cluttered black
and yellow floor and sat down beside it, fishing out a spanner and twirling
it idly between her fingers. Those little furballs had gotten to her;
twitching and chittering and immitating their speech, like some freaky
Furbies. She had been startled to be attacked by the whole bunch of them --
but it was hard to guess whether they were attacking her or simply
overwhelming her
with enthusiasm.
Anne slumped back on the floor, staring up at the exposed ceiling, two
decks up. She felt like the ceiling, her guts ripped out and her future
uncertain. Oh, to be back home right now, enjoying the bacchinalea of Mardi
Gras... she envied Digger for having the freedom to go.
Hmmm... well who says I can't drink myself silly right here? She
recalled the two bottles of Aldebraen whiskey -- the Green Stuff™ -- she had
stashed in her quarters, and wondered how long it would take her to fetch one
of the bottles and a glass.
She rolled up off the floor. Heck, who needs a glass....

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One Bottle of Whiskey Was On The Wall... One Bottle o'Whiskey...
JL, PO2C Anne Benjamin and Lt. Jean Paul LeBeau - PART ONE

Time : indeterminate after 'Like a Newborn Babe....';
same night, just later

Jean Paul LeBeau had spent the better part of a pleasurable evening with a
sweet engineering Lieutenant j.g. named Crawford. But like many things, all
good things must come to an end; he was on his way back to his quarters with
a whistled tune upon his lips and a spring in his steps.
For some reason, he found himself thinking about Anne. She had seemed kind
of messed up on the previous day's excursion into the junkyard. Come to think
of it, he'd hardly seen her at all lately. She had called in sick for a few
days in between the delivery of the previous cargo, and the away team
assignments. He hadn't seen her in the mess hall either, so he had to presume
she was taking meals in her quarters.
He passed the turbolifts and turned down another corridor, which would take
him to Anne's quarters, 5B. Pausing outside her door, he checked his chrono.
1230 hours. From what he knew of her, she rarely went to bed before one. He
pressed the doorbell, hearing the familiar chimes faintly within, and waited.
And waited.
He rang again, but no answer. The second ring should have at least brought
her to the door, perhaps a glass of water in hand to throw in his face.
"Computer, is Anne Benjamin in her quarters?"
"Negative."
Hmm.... "Where is Anne Benjamin?"
"Deck 30, suite 5A."
Something about that didn't sound right, and he tried to think of what was
down on the lower decks. Pretty late to be in the cargo holds... what are you
up to, missy... He turned on his heel once again and headed for the TL.

Anne's night had not started so well; but after consuming a large amount of
Aldebaran whiskey, aka The Green Stuff™, it had improved considerably.
Most starships stocked their lounges with synthehol, a Ferengi invention.
Synthehol allowed people to enjoy the enebriating effects of alcohol, but
without the hangover or barfing. However, like many imitation products, it
did not taste the same as the real thing. Also, when a person really wanted
to get drunk, a substance that could be shaken off at will simply wouldn't
do.
As she had chosen to imbibe directly from the bottle, Anne wouldn't have
been able to give any good estimates on how much, exactly, she had consumed.
The bottle was at least a third lighter than it had been four hours earlier;
which is to say, it was almost empty, as it had been less than half full to
begin with.
For some reason, in her drunkeness, she had decided that since she was
already down there, she might as well work on the holodeck. All things
considered and all factors being equal, she had made a nice bit of work of
the room up to about six or seven feet. Above that, the walls were still
mostly empty.
Currently, she lay on the floor, taking yet another slug of the green
whiskey. "Com... compu'er.... activate program Rose One...."

t b c

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One Bottle of Whiskey Was On The Wall...
And Now It's In My Stomach...
JL, PO2C Anne Benjamin and Lt. Jean Paul LeBeau - PART TWO [conclusion]

Digger raised his eyebrows as he stood outside suite 5B on deck 30. He could
hear sounds from inside, mostly it sounded like Anne shouting. None of it
made sense.
"Computer, override locks on this door, authority LeBeau Alpha Yaeger 999."
The doors slid open to his response, and he stepped into a darkened area. As
he moved forward, he realized he was in some kind of backstage area. Above
his head, he could see the walls were incomplete, only stretching up perhaps
seven or eight feet. The bare bones of the suite above, on deck 29, were
visible.
"I thought there weren't holodecks on the Frag," he muttered to himself.
This stunk of Anne's mischief all over... but then again, who was he to
complain about a holodeck....
He brushed aside a curtain, and found himself looking out into a circular
wooden theatre. Seating was arranged in three tiers along the walls; the
center of the theatre was empty, and the floor was hay-covered dirt. The
ceiling, like backstage, was dim, nothing more than gutted starship ceiling.
It was a bizarre juxtaposition.
Anne stood forward on the stage of the empty theatre, dressed in some kind
of big, floppy hat with a quail feather jutting from it. She wore a loose
white shephard's shirt and leather breeches; soft brushed leather boots came
up over her knees.
JP realized she was acting.... or at least attempting to. She was gesturing
grandly and orating more or less well, except for stumbling to and fro.
She's drunk! he realized, laughing softly to himself.
"How tartly that gentleman looks!" Anne was saying, with a gesture. "I
never can see him but I am heartburned an hour after... Too curst in more
than curst! I shall lessen God's sending that way, for it is said God sends a
curst cow short horns, but to a cow too curst he sends none!" She slapped at
her chest in emphasis. "Yes! Faith! It is my cousin's duty to make curtsy,"
she bobbled in an uncertain curtsy, and Digger
almost expected her to fly off the stage, but she recovered and went gamely
on. "...and say 'Father, as it please you.' Not til God make men of some
other mettle than earth! Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with
a piece of valiant dust? To make an account of her life to a clod of wayward
marl? Noooooooooooooo Uncle, I'll none! I've a good eye, Uncle, I can see a
church by daylight!"
JP had been leaning against the doorframe, watching her with amusement.
Aside from the fact that she was drunk she wasn't half bad. He had had no
idea she was into theatre; if he recognized her lines, she was doing Much Ado
About Nothing.
The doorway suddenly gave way under his weight, some kind of glitch in the
half-wired holodeck, and he stumbled, knocking into a bench and sending a
pile of tin plates flying. LeBeau sheepishly tried to keep the plates from
making the racket, but it seemed the more he tried the worse it got.
Anne whirled -- well, sort of whirled, the room was almost whirling for her
already -- and looked to see what caused the racket. "Digger!" She stood
there, swaying slightly, not trusting her feet to carry her towards him. "So
much for my little secret, eh?"
"Uh... hi." He gave his infamously charming grin, walking towards her. "I
uhm, was worried about you and thought I'd come see how you're doing."
"O Digger, Digger, wherefore art thou, Romeo?" she giggled, "Deny my
father, and refuse his name, or if thou wilt not, but be sworn my nurse, and
I'll no longer be a Benjamin." She giggled again, staggering away a little.
The second officer spied the distinctive bottle perched on the edge of the
stage. "Is that Aldebaran whiskey? Where did you get that?" he strode over
and picked up the bottle. "Aaaaaa!! Empty! How could you drink all this and
not invite me?" He gave her his 'hurt puppy-dog' look.
"O churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after?" Anne had
gotten stuck on Romeo & Juliet; she moved closer to JP and draped her arms
about his neck. "I will kiss thy lips; haply some poison yet doth hang on
them!" She tried to kiss him, but she was still drunken and laughing, and
Digger was, at heart, enough of a gentleman not to take advantage of her.
"Anne.... no, Anne... c'mon..." He tried to get her arms off his neck.
Aside from the heavy scent of whiskey on her, she also had on some kind of
cologne which smelled absolutely incredible. And she was cute. Think of what
happened last time you touched an Admiral's daughter! Admiral Benjamin will
send your butt up a creek soooo fast, with the oar wedged firmly up it for
good measure!
"C'mon Anne... not like this...." He felt bad, but he'd feel worse if she
didn't stop.
Anne pushed away, angry, eyes glossy and flashing. "Oh!" she huffed.
"Sooooo sorry! I wasn't aware you grew scruples, Jean Paul LeBeau!"
JP sighed. "Annie.... you're drunk. Let me help you back to your room."
"I don't need your help," she said contemptuously, folding her arms and
trying to get a firm standing. "Don't you do enough, huh? Don't you report
in to my daddy and let him know what a fine little officer I'm becoming under
you, huh?"
Her face screwed up and he wondered if she was going to cry. Please,
anything but crying, I can handle anything but crying right now....
"Anne, no, things aren't like that."
"Right." She moved closer, snatching the empty whiskey bottle from his
fingers. "Right... I just sooo bet." She clutched the bottle closer to her.
"Please... believe me on this, Annie. Have I ever lied to you?" His blue
eyes were open, honest.
She stood still a minute, thinking. "Yeah," she said finally, rubbing her
sleeve across her face.
"When?" He tried to think of when he might have lied.
"When I was about five, and you and my brothers were going --"
His laughter cut her off. "That's a bit far back, hey?" He moved closer,
hoping she wasn't going to bolt away. How far would she get, anyway; she'd be
lucky if she didn't slam into something on her way out the door, like the
wall.
Anne pouted, lower lip trembling dramatically.
"C'mon." He moved closer, putting a hand on her arm gently. "Let me take
you back to your quarters. It's late."
She looked at him, appearing to be on the verge of tears, swaying a little.
"Not gonna tell my dad? Huh?"
"Nope... I promise." He thought of the convenient little transmission
jammer he used every time a conversation topic got sticky with some of the
brass. He went to put a reassuring arm about her waist, to better guide her
out. She looked up at him, looking sort of fragile, almost, and then her blue
eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out.
"Ooof!" he managed to catch her deadweight before she fell to the floor.
He looked down at her face. She was already snoring softly. He sighed at the
helplessness of the situation; he couldn't very well leave her passed out on
the empty half-finished holodeck.
"So much for an entirely pleasant night." Carefully, he picked her up, and
hoped he wouldn't see anybody in the corridors that he'd have to explain this
to, and headed for her quarters.

~ * ~

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"Takes a licking but keeps on kicking"
Samantha D. Otter - Personal log...yadda yadda yadda...you know the drill

Samantha stirred slightly. She had been knocked unconscious and was laying
on the ground. The last thing she remembered was sending out some official
paperwork for the Captain. She remembered thinking she needed to get to sick
bay to check on the Captain....and that nurse "Flamer" or whatever his name
was. There was something about that guy that just didn't sit right in Sam's
mind.

This and other thoughts ran through her mind as she shook herself awake. She
felt a bit of a tugging at her feet and looked to see what had brought her to
consciousness. WHAT THE????

Some sort of furry pussy cat sized thing was trying to mate with one of her
feet which she hadn't shaven in a couple of days. Kicking at it in panic she
jumped up on the desk. It chattered something angrily at her and before it
scurried off she could have sworn it flipped her the bird.

Before descending from her perch she looked around the room cautiously.
"That's it...I'm heading to sick bay and make sure Flamer isn't just keeping
the captain down there for the heck of it. He's got to be better by now."

Samantha cautiously stepped down from the desk and while looking too and fro
at the floor for any other furry little things, she made her way to sick bay.
She thought to herself that as long as she was there she would talk to the
doctor about getting some sort of permanent cure for the unwanted hair growth
all over. After that last episode, she had tried to shave herself. First
she shaved her ...um...upper lap area. She started on one side then
the other, trying to even it out as she went, to make sure it looked natural.
But the more she tried to even it out the more hair she removed until she
lost the boundry of where the unnatural growth ended and her natural growth
began. Oh well....she had heard bald was in again. Then when she shaved her
back side she nicked herself something terrible. She may have had a smooth
bottom again, but man it was hard to sit with razor burn and shaving
cuts. Certainly there had to be a counter agent to the Rogain.......she
hoped.

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Somebody Stop The World, I Want To Get Off!

"Stage seven : morning. The sun is like God's flashlight...." - Larry Miller

ANNE'S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN, but her pupils rolled upward, desperately trying
to ignore the throb that started in her eyes, pierced through her skull, down
her spine, pooled around in her stomach for a while and shot down her legs
and out her toes.
She recalled some ancient Terran comedian making a comment about the sun
being like God's flashlight when you had a hangover. She was thankful that
the brightest thing she had to deal with was the illumination from her
roomlights.
Anne groaned and rolled over, which sent her flying off the couch. She
landed on the floor with a solid thud, and she lay there, sore and groaning.
The room tilted away from her, and her mouth tasted as if she'd been sucking
on the carpet all night.
With a large amount of painful grunts, and a superhuman amount of effort,
she managed to claw her way to an upright position, using the couch for
leverage. She leaned her head forward, against the cushions, moaning softly.
The bathroom .... it was an excellent idea. She couldn't remember how she'd
make it back to her own room last night... she was barely concious of the
fact that she still wore her clothes from last night, the loose linen shirt
and the leather breeches. Anne crawled across her floor towards the head,
regretting every inch of floor inbetween.
"Why couldn't I have had the sense to pass out in the tub or something?"
She made it finally to the bathroom, leaning her head against the blissful
cold of the wall, sliding down, pushing aside the floormat so she could lie
on the icy tile floor.
She remembered the whiskey... the empty bottle sat on her table out by the
couch. And she sort-of-but-not-really remembered talking to Digger. As she
lay there, she could remember bits of the conversation, and she blushed red
in shame. Liquor always loosened her tongue, and she said anything and
everything that came to mind, without the benefit of censure. She remembered
babbling something about her father, and holding a good old pity
party for herself, and then she thought she'd attempted to kiss him, and then
details got really vague after that, thankfully.
Anne felt two hot tears drip out of her eyes, slide down her cheeks and onto
the floor. She had made a fool of herself before him; she probably did
horrible things to the holodeck; and come to think of it how had he found her
down there anyway? Oh well.... just the Twerp underfoot again, screwing up
royally, as usual. One of these days she'd learn; it just apparently wasn't
going to be anytime soon.
Her stomach shifted again, reminding her of its presence. She wished she
could throw up. She desperately willed herself to vommit; but no such luck.
Deep down, she hated barfing more than she wanted to do so, so she was simply
going to have to suffer the pains that racked her body. At least those would
go away.
"People can't respect somebody who doesn't respect themselves," she muttered
to herself, rolling over on the floor to find a new cool spot. She seemed
determine to crash into a brick wall -- repeatedly -- and she kept shaking
off people's attempts to turn her away from the wall. Was she nuts? Did she
have a death wish? She wondered if she was more afraid of success than
failure. She had grooved herself a nice little rut, and then chosen to lie
down
in it.
The tears began to flow, unchecked, and she was racked with sobs. One part
pity party and one part shame, she let the tears flow, feeling a calm creep
over her. The pains she'd been feeling felt worse after the cry; now she felt
as if a runabout had used her cranium for a landing pad.
The porcelin god finally made a house call.

~ * ~

Petty Officer 2nd Class
Anne Riggs Benjamin
USS FRAGGLEROCK

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This Is Absolutely The Best Place
PL, PO2C Anne Riggs Benjamin

"And this is the absolutely the BEST place to go if you ever get shot in the
butt."
-- Goldie Hawn, "Protocol"

Time : After the last sim

ANNE GRASPED AT THE SHREDDED REMAINS of the seat of her pants, attempting to
hold onto the last shreds of her dignity as she did. It was bad enough that
gremlin goo clung all over her uniform, sticky and smelly and occassionally
dropping off her arm or leg and onto the floor.
She sighed, making her way over to the Captain. "Uhm, sir... I need to
go to Sickbay."
The Captain nodded his assent, and Anne kind of crab-stepped her way out
of the room and ran down the hall to the turbolift.
This was not a good day. At least the hangover was finally gone, that was
something to be thankful for. But she had been locked in her officer on deck
10, then attacked by one of the gremlins, which she nad nailed to the wall
with a screwdriver. Another mess to clean up later. Once freed of her office,
she had to go on a beer run with Digger and Dmitri, and then apparently the
fine golden amber nectar was to be used as bait. Bait!
for those gremlins.
They had managed to fix the "problem," but not before one of those
gremlins bit her on the butt! She couldn't believe it. She'd blown it off
with her phaser, but since its teeth were firmly locked into her, and her
uniform, it had ripped a large chunk of her uniform open as it dropped to the
floor.
She exited the TL and made her way down to Sickbay. Dr. Thang wasn't in;
so she called out, "Hello?" as she looked around.
A tall, incredibly handsome doctor appeared, and leaned against the
doorframe, regarding her. Even in the shapeless blue "scrubs," she could tell
he was one hubba hubba hubba -- dark, Caesar-cut hair; intense blue eyes; and
beautiful hands. She had a thing for hands -- loving well-formed, strong yet
not beefy, fingers.
"Can I help you?" Dr. Gorgeous asked.
Standing there dumbfounded a bit, she stammered for a moment, trying to
remember while she was there. Then she felt a breeze across her buttocks
again, and she managed to untangle her tongue. "I uhm.... got bit on th'
buttocks." Her bayou drawl came through, and the doctor smiled again.
"Well, well... I certainly hope the foreplay was worth it." He chuckled
and motioned her over towards a biobed.
Anne blushed, and moved over, laying face-down on the biobed.
The doctor's blue eyes widened as he regarded the carnage that was the
seat of her pants. "Then again maybe not?" He moved to get the tools he
would need to clean her up and heal the wounds. "What exactly bit you?"
Moving the torn material away, he began cleaning out the teeth marks arranged
in a ( ) on her left buttock.
"A gremlin." She winced as the antiseptic stung.
"And what's your name?"
"Anne Benjamin. And you are?" Having the doctor work on her bared butt
was embarassing. Why couldn't the gremlin have bit her in the leg or
something? Secretly, she was relieved that she'd chosen the g-string that
morning instead of her regular bikini-style undies; at least he hadn't had to
rip her undies off too. Although come to think of it... that wouldn't be so
bad....
"Doctor Doug Ross." He worked efficiently, but not any faster than
needed. The view was good. "So, do you get bit like this often?"
She laughed. "I must say thankfully, no. At least not so roughly." Then
she blushed at her boldness, glad she didn't have to look at him for the
moment.
Dr. Ross ran the dermal regenerator over her buttock, healing her wounds.
"Hmm... well maybe we could resolve that."
Her eyes widened, and she laughed. "Uhmm..."
He chuckled, finishing his work. "I hear we're heading for sector 001
for a few days... seems like a lot of crew are talking about Mardi Gras. Ever
been?" He found a couple safety pins and fixed her pants.
"Have I been? I grew up there! Have you ever been?"
"All set." He gave her a soft pat on her lower back, indicating that she
could get up. She rolled over and sat up. "No, I've never been down to the
Big Easy." He smiled. "Perhaps you could show me around?"
"I think I could do that." A smile slid across her lips.
"Good. I look forward to that." He made some notations on her patient
chart. And to seeing that fine rear of yours again, as well, he thought
She blushed, tucking a lock of stray hair behind her ear. "Me too." The
invitation was unexpected but not unwelcome; how could she refuse? ;)

~ * ~

Petty Officer 2nd Class
Anne Riggs Benjamin
USS FRAGGLEROCK

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"Benjamin To The Principal's Office..."
JL, Anne and the Captain

Date: Before arriving at Earth

Captain Jacques St. Duiex looked over the information on his ready room
monitor. The irregular power spikes had been fixed by Engineering, but he
still wondered about the cause. He decided it was perhaps time to take a
stroll down to decks 29 and 30 to see if he could find anything out of the
ordinary.

PO2C Anne Riggs Benjamin was preparing to have a few days at home. She hadn't
expected to be able to be home to enjoy her krewe's Mardi Gras party; and all
the better, she had a date lined up with that easy-on-the-eyes Dr. Ross. She
really had dated very little after returning to Starfleet Academy, and
honestly hadn't had the opportunity while travelling. She wondered what Doug
had done to land on the Frag.

The Captain stopped outside of the door to suite 5A on deck 30. The majority
of the power surges had been reported here. The doors didn't open, so he
entered his override codes.
He was more than surprised at what he saw as he stepped inside. Looking
up, he saw that the suite above had been gutted, as had the one he stood in.
Wiring hung from the upper levels, and from the ceiling. The lower suite
looked like a holodeck in progress.
This has got to be Benjamin's work. He didn't know how; she had denied
the paintjob. But he got the feeling that his procurement officer was up to
all kinds of things when she was off duty.
+tap+ "Captain to PO Benjamin. Report to my ready room in twenty
minutes. St. Duiex out."

Anne reported promptly on time, and stood at attention before her
Captain. "Petty Officer Benjamin reporting, sir!" She snapped off a crisp
salute.
Jack didn't allow her to relax. "Benjamin, I have been having a little
problem with power surges down on deck thirty, you know anything about them?"
Her face was the picture of innocence. "Sir, I'm a procurement officer,
not an engineer."
"I know." He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her. "But your degree is
in engineering, and you actually did extremely well in your engineering
classes." He cut to the chase. "Although you denied it, I still believe you
were responsible for our handsome ship decoration, and I think you know
exactly what I'm talking about."
Anne licked her lips, wondering how he figured things out. While she had
intended her shenanigans to get herself kicked out of Starfleet, once they
were completed she found she was unwilling to go. "Perhaps," she whispered.
His eyebrow arched slightly. "Pardon me?"
"Perhaps," she said more loudly.
"Perhaps, or you're sure?"
She was silent a long minute. "I'm sure, sir."
He nodded. "Good... now we're getting somewhere." He tossed the PADD
he'd been holding on his desk. "At ease, Benjamin, but only if you're going
to discuss this with me."
It was another long moment before she relaxed her stance to parade rest.
He studied her as he waited for her to speak.
"Anne, help me out here. According to your records, your intelligence
practically tests off the charts. You left Starfleet for a couple years, have
a lot of questions about where you were during that time, it's reported you
may have been with smugglers. While you were in Starfleet Academy, you did
well in your major classes, but merely cruised by for the general
requirements. Your SFA record is riddled with a list of reprimands as long as
my
arm; I have to admit that I'm surprised you weren't kicked out." He eyed
her; she was slowly turning redder. "So, tell me, Benjamin... what's your
story?"
She bit her lip. "Sir..." she offered finally, "you know that Admiral
Albert Benjamin who denied us the supplies? He's my uncle.... one of many,
many.... many... relatives I have in Starfleet."
Ding. A light went on. Jack hadn't cross-referenced her family; he had
seen that her father was on the High Council, and the rest of her nuclear
family was in Starfleet as well. "A-ha, now we're getting somewhere... too
many family connections? Feeling the pressure to succeed?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?" she asked. He nodded, and her lips
twisted. "I never had the opportunity to choose my destiny, Captain. It was
decided for me. I have to admit I've done my best to get out of it, but ...
it hasn't worked."
He sighed. "Anne... if you spent half as much effort improving your
career as you do trying to destroy it, you might even find that you enjoy
Starfleet. Does that bother you?"
She looked uncomfortable. "I just ... I just want to be able to make my
own decisions is all, sir."
He smiled. "It seems like you do that already. Care to explain the
little... mess you're making down on deck thirty?"
Anne gave a weak smile. "Courtesy of Admiral Jonathan Benjamin, sir."
Jack couldn't help but smile. "I see. Well, please remember to thank
your father on my behalf then, Petty Officer First Class." He picked up a
box on his desk and walked around to her, opening it to reveal a PO bar. She
looked shocked as he pinned it on her collar.
"T-thank you, sir," she stammered out.
"You're welcome." He shook her hand. "Dismissed."
She gave him a smile and a salute, and left his office.
He watched her go. I really think I missed my calling as a Counselor....



~ * ~

Petty Officer 2nd Class
Anne Riggs Benjamin
USS FRAGGLEROCK

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"Tell It, Girlfriend....."
An excerpt from Anne's adventures in the homeland....

Time : during the Frag crew's soujourn at Earth
but before Anne's date with Dr. Doug ;)

SD95502.12

It was early afternoon in New Orleans, and Anne Benjamin sat with her friend
Arnold D'Anjou under the shade of the awning at Café du Monde, an institution
to coffee addicts in the Big Easy since 1862 at the Jackson Square end of the
French Market, on Decatur.
The open-air structure was busy, as always; the only thing it closed for was
Christmas, the occassional hurricane, and for a brief period during the last
world war when the building had been damaged. The late-lunch crowd was
thinning out, grabbing some coffee and beignets (fried, powdered sugar-coated
pastries) before returning to whatever else they had to do that afternoon.
Anne leaned back in her chair, letting the early afternoon sunlight caress
her face. Being home, if only for a couple days, felt good. She sipped at her
chickory-laced café au lait and smiled over at Arnold.
Arnold was an artist. He was wearing paint-splattered overalls over a green
t-shirt, since he had come from the Krewe of Priscilla's den*, where he was
doing some last-minute touch-ups for some of the floats. His dark hair was
done in Cleopatra braids, enhancing his handsome features. Anne had always
thought he looked like he had stepped right out of some Egyptian statue, with
his dark skin, expressive eyes and regal features. They'd met when they
both had been waitstaff at Ruby's over on Raleigh; she'd thought he was
straight until she made a pass at him, and he'd set the record straight, so
to speak.
"What is that smirk of yours hiding, Annie?" he asked with a grin.
"Smirk?" Anne feigned innocence.
"You haven't gotten some, have you?"
"Arnold!" Anne blushed furiously, eyes widening, and then she laughed.
"Not yet."
"Good gracious, woman, 'fess up. It's been what, almost five years for you?
I think you have about regrown that virginity of yours by now." He winked
and drank his coffee. "Not yet, eh? Give Arnold the dish."
"Four and a half," Anne said defensively, biting into a beignet. She looked
at her friend. "Okay, so it's been a while." She shook her head and looked
down into her café au lait, stirring it. "I'm not particularly high
maintenance, Arnold. I don't know why I have the man problems I do."
The black man laughed, shaking a beignet at her. "Honey, you're high
maintenance, you just won't admit it."
She looked up, hurt in her eyes. "Oh, come on!"
He reached over, putting his hand over hers and giving her a warm smile.
"You're high maintenance in your own special way, sweetie, but it's more a
result of your self-esteem than anything."
"What do you mean?"
Arnold gave her hand a squeeze. "You have had to live up to a lot of
expectations, so you have become very defensive. For whatever reason, your
self-esteem is dirt-poor, but honey, you have so much to be proud of yourself
for. You are sweet, beautiful, passionate, giving, friendly, loyal,
hard-working and respectable. You have a lot to offer! How often do I have
to buff your ego, hon?" He touched her chin briefly. "Once somebody
gets past those walls you keep throwing up, they can find out what an
absolute treasure you are. But you won't let them. You use sarcasm to keep
people at arm's length. And honey, you do that often enough and people will
simply give up attempting to get to know you, and you will find yourself one
lonely lady."
Anne frowned. Arnold's words hurt, but the problem was, she knew he was
right. The truth always hurts, a little voice in her head reminded her.
"You got to know me," she pointed out.
Arnold smiled. "And I'm glad I did. Difficult as you can be, you know I
love you, honey. And if I wasn't gay--"
Anne grinned. "Yeah, yeah." She tossed another beignet at him, and he
caught it, sending powdered sugar all over him. "Easy for you to say, eh?"
She winked.
"So tell me about this date of yours."
"He's a total dish of a doctor from my ship. But he's about oh, twelve years
older than me, so I don't really expect it to go anywhere. I like guys more
my age."
"Oh, honey, who says it needs to 'go anywhere'?" Arnold grinned. "Take Dr.
Dishy to bed! Have you way with him!" The two laughed. "So, how'd you meet
him?"
"I got bit in the butt and he fixed me up."
Arnold almost choked on his coffee. "Bit where? By what?"
"Long story." Anne grinned. "I think he liked the view because he started
flirting with me. Anyway, I'm bringing him to the Cupid krewe party after
the parade, and you can check him out there if you're coming to that?"
"Oh definately.... you know I wanna check out your man. You always had
exquisite taste."
Anne laughed. "Thanks sweetie." She checked her watch. "Jeez, I gotta go.
I have to meet my dad." She leaned over and gave Arnold a kiss on the
cheek. "Thanks a million, hon, and I better see you again before I leave
again."
"Wild stallions wouldn't keep me away... okay, maybe if they were cute
enough." He grinned and watched her head off.


* Mardi Gras glossary :
www.mardigras.com/guide/index.ssf?/mardigras/guide/carngloss.html





Petty Officer 2nd Class
Anne Riggs Benjamin
USS FRAGGLEROCK

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"Paging Dr. Ross..."
more of Anne's hometown adventures

"No. The world is full of guys. Don't be a guy. Be a man." - Corey, Say
Anything

THE HOUR WAS NOT YET OFFICIALLY 'LATE'... but it was after dark, the Krewe of
Cupid parade had made its way through the city, and now it's ball was in full
swing at the St. Supéry's antebellum mansion in the Garden District. The St.
Supérys were one of the five FONOF (fine old New Orleans families) that
sponsored the Cupid krewe's yearly revelry; the Benjamins were another.
Like many New Orleans homes, there was very little front yard, but the back
yard of the house was quite large. This house was no exception; the yard
rolled away down the banks towards the Mississippi. The night air was thick
with the scent of olive trees, palmetto and magnolias; flambeaux flickered at
strategic points around the yard, illuminating the well-groomed grounds for
the many guests.
Anne stood with Arnold by the buffet table, picking at a fruit platter. She
wore loose-fitting mocha-brown rayon pants, a white t-shirt, a black vest and
shoes. The pair watched Doug chat amiably with Anne's father.
"So, what'd Daddy think?" Arnold jabbed a celery stick in the general
direction of the pair.
Anne smiled. "He's a doctor, in Starfleet... two big bonus points with
Daddy..." She shrugged. "I told you, I don't have any long-term interest."
"At least not any longer than a night?" Arnold laughed, and Anne pegged him
with a baby carrot stick.
She crunched on a piece of apple. "Get your mind out of the gutter, hon."
"Oh you love it," he ribbed her. "Get your butt over there and lay one of
your incredible kisses on him."
She gave him a smirk. "And how would you know what my kisses are like?"
"Well, apparently one night at the club, Cody kissed you, and he told me
that if you were even a quarter as good in bed as you were at kissing, that
you could turn him straight."
Anne cracked up. "Cody was drunk that night, and I think I was too."
"Honey, if you impressed him drunk, then I can only imagine you sober. Get
over there now, don't make me drag you."
She shook her head, then gave Arnold a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll
see you next time I'm in town, dear, wish me luck."
He hugged her. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"That leaves me pretty much.....oohh, everything?" she grinned and headed
for her date.

ANNE FOUND DOUG'S COMPANY QUITE PLEASANT. He was older than she normally
liked, true, but that made him more comfortable with himself, with what he
wanted. He was a man, unlike the boys she'd been with in some previous
incarnation of a dating life. Of course, she really hadn't been out on the
dating scene for quite a while, so
maybe she just enjoyed the attention he was giving her. It didn't hurt one's
ego to have an incredibly attractive man by one's side.
She had accompanied him on the streetcar back to his hotel, which was close
to Bourbon Street. They could hear faintly the sounds of some late-night
partying carrying down the empty streets.
Anne had been filling him on various little facts about Mardi Gras, since he
didn't know a lot about it, other than the fact that it was a big party and
an annual tradition. He suddenly stopped under one of the streetlights, and
she had taken a few steps before she realized he was not beside her. She
turned, and saw him standing there with an amused look on his face.
She walked back to him. "What?" she asked, smiling.
Doug raised his hand, trailing his fingers along her chin. "You've educated
me quite a lot this evening, Anne... but let's put your mouth to better use."
He leaned closer as her lips parted in surprise at his words, and his mouth
connected with hers. His lips were soft at first, exploring, and then firmer,
and he pulled her closer to him. Anne melted into the kiss, feeling as if she
was going to faint. It had definately been too long, if
she felt this ravenous over just a kiss.

She went with him back to his hotel room. The evening was still warm; the
long French-style windows were slightly open, allowing the gentle breezes to
freshen the room. The full moon flooded through the glass, giving clear
enough illumination that they didn't have to turn on any lights.
They stood together by the bed, gently kissing, and he cupped his hands
against her cheeks, looking down into her beautiful blue eyes. He brushed
back a strand of her auburn hair. "Are you sure you want this, Anne?" She
had mentioned in passing earlier that it had been some time since she had
been with anybody.
She nodded. "As long as you don't lie to me about your intents, I'm fine."
And she was. Mostly, her hormones were singing through her bloodstream
halleujah, halleujah!! too loudly for her to care.
Doug gave her a smile. "All right."

~ ~ ::discreetly draws the shades:: <g> ~ ~

Petty Officer 2nd Class
Anne Riggs Benjamin
USS FRAGGLEROCK