The case of too many bottles and altogether too many Exes
Posted on Mon Oct 7th, 2024 @ 6:30pm by Lieutenant Commander Oscar McDonald MD & Lieutenant Adrianna Baciami
Edited on on Fri Nov 1st, 2024 @ 4:20am
1,668 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Stars Around the Well
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: Following rescue of Ito
On rare occasions, every few years or so, stars aligned. For many, this was a time of celebration or may herald good fortune. For others, it was a time when bad fortune seemed to await at every turn.
Perched on a stool, signing off on a medical chart with his coffee resting on the adjacent shelf, Doctor MCDonald found himself in the latter category. Beginning with a far from refreshing ice cold shower, to having to give a very vocal dressing down to two medical students who had - well, already been largely undressed when he had walked into storage room D.
His mood had deteriorated further when he got to his office to find a long list of messages from Rachel. Apparently her spiritual advisor had confided in his ex-wife that the moons of Jupiter were in perfect alignment making it a perfect time to get things off her chest and seek resolution. She had definable taken the ‘get things off your chest’ part to heart. Every mistake, every argument… the woman had a near picture perfect memory when it came to any perceived sight or misstep on his part.
“When you are done hiding,” Dr O’Connor announced as she peered inside the room, “Lieutenant Baciami is looking for you. Something about dinner plans? Also, the Demon called me to make sure you were not in a coma.”
“What did you say?” He asked, not the least bit surprised other than the hour was later than he thought. He had made arrangements to have some drinks with the communications chief. One of the few on board who did not test his patience.
“That you were on a date.”
“Chloe -“
“But that was the nicest part of our conversation,” Chloe protested with a pout, sighing as she turned on her heels to go back to work, “maybe the Lieutenant can block all her calls and messages in future?”
McDonald sighed, running a hand through his hair before heading towards his office with his reports tucked under his arm. Entering his office he offered a small smile, “Lieutenant. Apologies, I got cut up with reports. I trust all is well with you?”
"It's been a trying few days, but nothing a bottle of hard liquor won't cure," Adrianna replied with a shrug, pulling out a bottle of whiskey out of a satchel, placing it on his desk.
"Or two." She pulled out a bottle of bourbon.
"Or three." She pulled out a bottle of vodka.
"Or four." She pulled out a bottle of a glimmering liquid labelled 'Betzed Vodka'.
"Maybe five, for good measure," finally she place some Romulan whiskey on to his desk.
"Courtesy of a contraband check on the lower decks," Adrianna answered the question before it was asked, "apparently they thought that they could party and get away with it, but I believe you treated at least 7 victims of that night. This is all that remains."
McDonald couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the assortment of alcohol the woman had confiscated. “Quite the haul,” he noted, “I take crew morale in the lower decks is now sub-optimal?”
"I mean... It is now," she shrugged.
Opening his lower desk drawer he produced a vintage malt whisky, “now this is a drink. You’ll find some glasses in that nook to your right, behind the plant. Yes, that’s the one… actually… let’s find somewhere with some food as well? And I just a few hours barely stopped two medical cadets from boldly going in a supply cupboard. Best not to encourage drinking in the medical bay. Shall we? And while we walk, I wish to seek your expertise. It involves an ex wife so bring all the bottles…”
Adrianna went to lean over to get the glasses but paused when he changed his mind. She sat up and put all the bottles, including the whiskey he'd pulled out into her bag. There was, in fact, a bottle of grappa in there too, but she'd hold out. "We're hardly ones to talk-- but at least it was a medical emergency and not lust," she snorted I'm amusement, "either way, I agree-- drinking on an empty stomach is just screaming for a bad time." She gestured to the door to let him lead the way and begin his rant or question."
“What are the odds,” McDonald mused as they headed towards the mess hall, “of some mysterious subspace anomaly blocking communication with anyone on the ship from say… a she devil who seems especially motivated to annoy not just me but my staff?”
"Oh, ridiculously possibly," Adrianna nodded, "there is nothing more brutal and motivated than a scorned woman. Want me to get her blocked completely from this ship's Comms?"
"That would be wonderful!" McDonald declared as he led the way to a table. "But full disclosure, I may have to give you a list. But lets focus on this particular little psychiatrists dream first."
She cussed in her native language, "psychiatrist? My gawd, you are doomed, Doctor."
“Alas, it’s true,” he conceded. “She is very … spiritual. I find full moons and such like are the most difficult. But for the sake of our daughters, I tended to wait out her little difficult spells. What would you like to eat?”
"This sounds like a conversation that I need carbs for, to counteract the alcohol," she replied, "pizza, I think. The proper Napoli kind." She then went back to conversation, "does she ever expect response, or is it just a message or call here and there?"
With a nod he went to fetch food for them both. Returning they ate for a while in silence before McDonald ventured more detail. “Given your line of work you probably know more about me than I do,” he chuckled, “but in summary, I have been married a few times over the years. Four times, to be exact. And there were a few near misses.”
Taking a long drink of water, he smiled ruefully. “Dr O’Connor refers to them as The four wives of Oscar McDonald..”
"Still less than that king of England, hmm-- Henry the something. Equally, I imagine they ended in mere divorce, no murder."
“Henry the eighth,” McDonald confirmed with a nod, “Rather fond of beheading.”
"Guarantee that the beheaded women were like the ex you have that is bothering you at the moment-- it would have been a simple divorce otherwise," she mused, sipping her drink.
“Alas, back then it was never an option,” he sighed. “But not the point… it is a complicated situation and I have to take my share of responsibility. But she is determined and seems to be using her old contacts at medical to identify people on my staff to try and get a rise out of me.”
"So why don't you get a formal restraining order?" She replied, "better yet-- my qualifications and history mean that I can help in better ways... Make look like an accident kind of ways?" She shook her head, "I get get her blocked from all Comms to the ship so that you can just face her once we're back on 'dry land', so to speak."
He laughed at her not so subtle alternative solution. “Blocking should suffice,” he mused, “our daughters may not forgive anything more drastic.”
"Spoil sport," she chuckled but nodded her understanding, "I'll get on it first thing tomorrow for you. It's not hard. Well, depends, how likely is she to use someone else's Auth codes? Already had one run in with that scenario this week."
“Not really her style,” McDonald decided after a moment. “Someone causing trouble?”
Adrianna decided to be somewhat subtle, she did make a promise, "a relative of a crew member called using their husband's credentials to try and set me up with said crew member. Not sure if I should be flattered or mortified. Either way-- I sent the relative to go speak with my mother. Six of my brothers still need wives, and they're older than myself and the crew member, so they'll be busy for a long time." Adrianna chuckled, "apparently they're now best friends, so that's fun."
"A unique solution," he complimented with a smile, reminded again that the woman opposite was rather formidable. "You know, if she were here, our Captain would take a shine to you I'm absolutely sure."
Adrianna chuckled and shook her head, "I have been told that I am a difficult woman to love because I'm too-- oh gawd what's the word people say when really they mean 'an asshole'-- p-p-passionate! Passionate. I'm too passionate. Equally, I have this problem, where before coffee, I can't speak standard, so it makes for some fun interactions the following morning." She shrugged, "honestly, I think I am destined to be alone, unless my mother pays off a guy. Which, by the way, I wouldn't put past her."
"Well don't worry, I have no eligible sons, not that they'd take my advice when it comes to women and who can blame them?" he reasoned. "But I think it is a big galaxy out there. You never know. Maybe speaking a different language may even be a blessing at times. It would have definitely helped me ignore some of the nagging..."
She snorted, two fold,"I'm not sure any eligible sons would take kindly to knowing that we kissed and I made advances to you, regardless of reasons." She shook her head, "honestly, I'm happy being alone, but I do hope that someone will change my opinion one day. Until then, I'll stick to only having 2 ex fiances instead of four ex husbands." She teased him a little, "now-- which bottle shall we open first?"
"I am certain there is no possible wrong answer," he mused, finishing his pizza, "so I shall happily allow you to choose."
She smirked and pulled up her bag, shutting her eyes and playfully picking one at random.
By Lieutenant Fang Lee on Mon Oct 7th, 2024 @ 7:08pm
Great Post All!