Judgement – All Hung Up
by Lieutenant Bridget Stapleton
Post Details
ON:
Bridget approached the door to her quarters, and tapped the newly memorized code onto the access pad. A swish of hydraulics, and the door slid open. She took a step inside, and called out for her husband. “Ed, you in here?”
There was a grunt in response, which came from the bedroom. It sounded to Bridget like a straining noise, rather than a passive acknowledgment, so she made her way toward it to investigate. She found her husband with an overstuffed armful of hanging clothes, hangers all askew in their garments, and two hangers gripped between his teeth. He grinned at her when he saw her; well, as best he could with a mouthful of plastic. He gave a mumbled greeting, and jutted his chin out at her; it was a signal for her to take the empty hangers so he could speak.
She laughed at the comical domestic scene, which was made more ironic by her husband being the one in the self-imposed predicament. Usually she had done the unpacking whenever they stayed somewhere. The juxtaposition wasn’t lost on her. Grinning, she reached out to take the hangers from his mouth.
“I’d kiss you hello, but there isn’t enough room in those arms for me to get close enough,” she said, gesturing toward the clothes he still held.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, his tone mischievous.
He tossed his arms at the bed, letting the clothing fall where it may. Bridget was watching the garments fall helter-skelter across the bed, her mouth opening to protest, and didn’t see him grab for her. He wrapped both arms about her waist, and pulled her close as he fell backwards onto the clothing-strewn bed. She landed on top of him, and he was laughing at her feeble protestations, until his lips quelled her objections with a passionate kiss.
She allowed herself to be drawn into the kiss by his enthusiasm, and didn’t release him until moments later, when she needed to take a long breath. “I love you, you big turd,” she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes twinkling in spite of his choice to wrinkle all their hanging clothes.
“Yep, I know you do, Gorgeous.” He smiled his words as he rolled her off his chest and onto her back. Hangers were poking him between the shoulder blades, and the extra weight was making them dig in deeper. “Gah, that’s better.”
He sat up, turning his body so he could face her, an exaggerated expression of mock surprise on his face as he made a show of looking at the bed around them. “Hey, what’s the big idea of making a mess in here? I’m trying to get this place organized, you know.” He broke into a wide grin, his dimples deepening into vertical craters on his face, as his eyes met hers once again.
She wanted to grab something and throw it at him, all in good fun, of course. Sneaking a hand above her head toward the pillows, she tried to divert his attention. “Hey, gimme another one of those kisses, and I’ll help you clean up your mess.”
Eagerly Edward fell for the ruse, bending down to lean in, and meet her lips with his. He got almost to connection when she jerked her body, and a soft pillow blapped him upside the head. “Hey!” he called out, grabbing at her arm and wrestling to prevent a second volley.
Laughing, she managed to blurt out, “Hey… you were the one who started it… dragging me down here,” the words came in gasps as she struggled to free her arm and whack him with the pillow again; meanwhile, the other hand was pinned between them, but she tried to use it to best advantage and tickled at his armpit.
He laughed and twitched, trying to wrap his legs around hers and hold himself away from her tickling, all at the same time. Being stronger and more coordinated, he soon had her arm pinned down and pressed himself against her, meeting her lips for a second lingering kiss. Her body soon relaxed and she let go of the fluffy weapon, preferring to run her fingers through his short, brown hair as she returned the kiss.
“Better?” he asked, a moment later. She grinned in response and he gazed into her eyes a few seconds, and then kissed the tip of her nose before rolling his hips and sitting up.
“Boy, you really know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she teased, accepting his proffered hand to assist her in sitting up at the edge of the bed.
“Yeah I have to. It’s in the contract,” he said in mock seriousness, and brought her fingers to his lips. Sobering slightly, he asked, “So how’d it go with your new CMO?” He stood and turned to face the bed, then bent over to pick up a pair of slacks and a pants hanger, listening to her response.
“Actually, it was interesting,” Bridget began. She had a jumble of mental images stirred by his question, and she tried to condense her thoughts into coherent lines. “Doctor Adams seems a competent sort, and friendly, warm… I was mildly surprised by the way in which I was received.” She paused and stood to follow her husband’s example, re-hanging garments and walking them over to the closet.
“She wants me to shadow her for a bit, and get the hang of things. And… well,” Bridget paused in her movements, looking at Edward with a quizzical expression. “She asked if I would like to move up quickly in familiarity of the department, so that I could take the head physician slot during my shifts.” It was still a lot to take in, and she said the words with a sense of awe.
“Really!” Ed exclaimed. He felt a mixture of emotions in response to Bridget’s announcement, and his tone reflected that. On the one hand, he was completely in favor of her doing it; but on the other hand, he was concerned that she would be spending too much time in Sickbay and that her life would get out of balance. Workaholism was a temptation they both had to fight against.
She heard the less-than-enthusiastic tone in his voice, and sought his eyes with hers. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet, Ed,” she said, raising a palm and preempting a lecture about working too much. “I’ve only agreed to shadow her for awhile, and then we could discuss it after I get a feel for how the department works, and whether or not I think I could handle the lead.” She almost regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It told her that she was already subconsciously deciding to take the position.
He listened, and then pulled his eyes away, silently processing the information while he straightened the shoulders of one of his wife’s dresses on a hanger. He knew she would want to take the job. And he knew she’d stretch herself almost to the breaking point to do the job, if it were necessary. But this was bigger than any responsibility she’d had before. And he feared that her ambition would cloud her better judgment.
A good five minutes went by as they silently finished picking up the clothes. Bridget gave him verbal space to think; she knew that look on his face, and it meant she shouldn’t push. He’d give his opinion when he was ready, though she was concerned that he’d procrastinate about giving it, if it was something he thought she wouldn’t like to hear.
They straightened up the bed and headed out of the room, into the living room area. She looked at her watch, and said, “Hey I’ve got twenty-five minutes left. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out and get some lunch with me; but since we had to clean up your mess…” she grinned, showing that she didn’t mean any recrimination. “I think I’d better just get something replicated in here.”
He was able to catch the slight disappointment in her voice. He knew she liked to be out among people, and wasn’t uncomfortable in a crowded restaurant, contrary to his inner feelings. ~Opposites attract, right?~ He reminded himself, for the five-hundred thousandth time in their marriage.
“How about you sit down and I’ll make it for you. Turkey or roast beef?” He implied sandwiches, which were a frequent lunch menu for the two of them, and headed toward the small alcove where the replicator was located.
“Turkey. No, roast beef,” she said, changing her mind immediately. “On rye, extra horseradish.” She really wasn’t that hungry, to be exact. But she knew she should eat anyway, to stave off hunger pangs mid-afternoon. She sat quietly after placing her order, and was still waiting, almost holding her breath, to hear what he would have to say about her opportunity in Sickbay.
“Gotcha. Sounds good, I’ll have one, too.” He ordered the replicator to make the sandwiches, and added a couple of ice waters to the list. When the food appeared on the pad, he removed each dish and placed it onto a tray. All the while, he was running scenarios in his head, of what he would say, and what she would say, and what the outcome would be.
He took the tray into the living room and set it on the sofa next to her, sitting on the opposite side so he could face her comfortably as he sat down. Picking up his sandwich, he held it thoughtfully and began to speak. “Okay, you know I love you, right? So in love, I’m going to say that I’m worried about you jumping into something that’s going to be way over your head.” He took a bite of his sandwich, almost as if it were a defensive stance, to prevent himself from saying anything else.
“I get what you’re saying, Handsome. The thing is, if I can do this, then I can get some great experience, and perhaps get a CMO position myself, someday.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d even had a chance to process them. They’d never talked about her promoting up to a CMO. In fact, they’d talked about being content with wherever she was, and not working her head off to get promoted. Oops.
He sighed. “Look, Bree. I want you to be happy, you know that. But can’t you just *not* put the cart before the horse, and just take this thing and be content with what you have, and not go all hog-wild right out of the gate?” His voice had risen unintentionally, and he took a deep breath to return it to it’s normal timbre. “Okay. Right now, you’re just shadowing the CMO. That’s a good thing, in my book. Let’s not talk about anything beyond that until you’re done with the shadowing. I mean, a lot can happen between now and then, whenever that is, right?”
She nodded, her teeth busy working on a bite of sandwich. Swallowing, she said, “Well, yeah, I mean… I did say that we would talk about it after the shadowing, because I needed to have more information to go on before making any kind of decision. And you know I’m not going to decide without talking with you first.”
While that wasn’t always the case – she’d made a number of decisions over the years, without his consent; some of which were good ones, and some of which weren’t. To his credit, he never said ‘I told you so’, and he always accepted sharing the consequences of the bad decisions.
“That’s settled, then,” he said, and took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes focused on hers. His expression said much; that even though they’d almost raised their voices and argued, he wasn’t angry with her.
She was grateful for that, and she reached across the tray to squeeze his shoulder in acknowledgment. “I should get back; she’ll be ready for me by the time I arrive.” She wiped her mouth and rose from her seat. It was a bit of a walk to Sickbay, and she didn’t want to be late. “See you for dinner?” It was a rhetorical question.
“Yeap. What’cha want?” He meant it to ask what she wanted to have for the evening meal.
“Mmmm, pork chops, I think. The usual-- mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet corn, asparagus, and pears.” She straightened her uniform tunic and ran her fingers over the hair at the sides of her head, smoothing them back toward the ponytail she usually wore for work.
He stood and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back and nuzzling her neck with his mustache. A little nibble at the jugular set her to giggling. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
“You better marry me, you fool,” she whispered back, giving his middle a squeeze before pulling away, a grin on her face and a grateful expression in her eyes.
OFF:
A joint post by:
Ensign Bridget Stapleton
Doctor (General Practitioner) - DS5
and
Edward Stapleton (NPC)
by Lieutenant Bridget Stapleton
Post Details
| Title | All Hung Up | |
| Mission | Judgement | |
| Author(s) | Lieutenant Bridget Stapleton | |
| Posted | Thu Nov 18, 2010 @ 9:10am | |
| Location | Bridget and Edward Stapleton's Quarters | |
| Timeline | SD35 - 11:45 |
Bridget approached the door to her quarters, and tapped the newly memorized code onto the access pad. A swish of hydraulics, and the door slid open. She took a step inside, and called out for her husband. “Ed, you in here?”
There was a grunt in response, which came from the bedroom. It sounded to Bridget like a straining noise, rather than a passive acknowledgment, so she made her way toward it to investigate. She found her husband with an overstuffed armful of hanging clothes, hangers all askew in their garments, and two hangers gripped between his teeth. He grinned at her when he saw her; well, as best he could with a mouthful of plastic. He gave a mumbled greeting, and jutted his chin out at her; it was a signal for her to take the empty hangers so he could speak.
She laughed at the comical domestic scene, which was made more ironic by her husband being the one in the self-imposed predicament. Usually she had done the unpacking whenever they stayed somewhere. The juxtaposition wasn’t lost on her. Grinning, she reached out to take the hangers from his mouth.
“I’d kiss you hello, but there isn’t enough room in those arms for me to get close enough,” she said, gesturing toward the clothes he still held.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, his tone mischievous.
He tossed his arms at the bed, letting the clothing fall where it may. Bridget was watching the garments fall helter-skelter across the bed, her mouth opening to protest, and didn’t see him grab for her. He wrapped both arms about her waist, and pulled her close as he fell backwards onto the clothing-strewn bed. She landed on top of him, and he was laughing at her feeble protestations, until his lips quelled her objections with a passionate kiss.
She allowed herself to be drawn into the kiss by his enthusiasm, and didn’t release him until moments later, when she needed to take a long breath. “I love you, you big turd,” she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes twinkling in spite of his choice to wrinkle all their hanging clothes.
“Yep, I know you do, Gorgeous.” He smiled his words as he rolled her off his chest and onto her back. Hangers were poking him between the shoulder blades, and the extra weight was making them dig in deeper. “Gah, that’s better.”
He sat up, turning his body so he could face her, an exaggerated expression of mock surprise on his face as he made a show of looking at the bed around them. “Hey, what’s the big idea of making a mess in here? I’m trying to get this place organized, you know.” He broke into a wide grin, his dimples deepening into vertical craters on his face, as his eyes met hers once again.
She wanted to grab something and throw it at him, all in good fun, of course. Sneaking a hand above her head toward the pillows, she tried to divert his attention. “Hey, gimme another one of those kisses, and I’ll help you clean up your mess.”
Eagerly Edward fell for the ruse, bending down to lean in, and meet her lips with his. He got almost to connection when she jerked her body, and a soft pillow blapped him upside the head. “Hey!” he called out, grabbing at her arm and wrestling to prevent a second volley.
Laughing, she managed to blurt out, “Hey… you were the one who started it… dragging me down here,” the words came in gasps as she struggled to free her arm and whack him with the pillow again; meanwhile, the other hand was pinned between them, but she tried to use it to best advantage and tickled at his armpit.
He laughed and twitched, trying to wrap his legs around hers and hold himself away from her tickling, all at the same time. Being stronger and more coordinated, he soon had her arm pinned down and pressed himself against her, meeting her lips for a second lingering kiss. Her body soon relaxed and she let go of the fluffy weapon, preferring to run her fingers through his short, brown hair as she returned the kiss.
“Better?” he asked, a moment later. She grinned in response and he gazed into her eyes a few seconds, and then kissed the tip of her nose before rolling his hips and sitting up.
“Boy, you really know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she teased, accepting his proffered hand to assist her in sitting up at the edge of the bed.
“Yeah I have to. It’s in the contract,” he said in mock seriousness, and brought her fingers to his lips. Sobering slightly, he asked, “So how’d it go with your new CMO?” He stood and turned to face the bed, then bent over to pick up a pair of slacks and a pants hanger, listening to her response.
“Actually, it was interesting,” Bridget began. She had a jumble of mental images stirred by his question, and she tried to condense her thoughts into coherent lines. “Doctor Adams seems a competent sort, and friendly, warm… I was mildly surprised by the way in which I was received.” She paused and stood to follow her husband’s example, re-hanging garments and walking them over to the closet.
“She wants me to shadow her for a bit, and get the hang of things. And… well,” Bridget paused in her movements, looking at Edward with a quizzical expression. “She asked if I would like to move up quickly in familiarity of the department, so that I could take the head physician slot during my shifts.” It was still a lot to take in, and she said the words with a sense of awe.
“Really!” Ed exclaimed. He felt a mixture of emotions in response to Bridget’s announcement, and his tone reflected that. On the one hand, he was completely in favor of her doing it; but on the other hand, he was concerned that she would be spending too much time in Sickbay and that her life would get out of balance. Workaholism was a temptation they both had to fight against.
She heard the less-than-enthusiastic tone in his voice, and sought his eyes with hers. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet, Ed,” she said, raising a palm and preempting a lecture about working too much. “I’ve only agreed to shadow her for awhile, and then we could discuss it after I get a feel for how the department works, and whether or not I think I could handle the lead.” She almost regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It told her that she was already subconsciously deciding to take the position.
He listened, and then pulled his eyes away, silently processing the information while he straightened the shoulders of one of his wife’s dresses on a hanger. He knew she would want to take the job. And he knew she’d stretch herself almost to the breaking point to do the job, if it were necessary. But this was bigger than any responsibility she’d had before. And he feared that her ambition would cloud her better judgment.
A good five minutes went by as they silently finished picking up the clothes. Bridget gave him verbal space to think; she knew that look on his face, and it meant she shouldn’t push. He’d give his opinion when he was ready, though she was concerned that he’d procrastinate about giving it, if it was something he thought she wouldn’t like to hear.
They straightened up the bed and headed out of the room, into the living room area. She looked at her watch, and said, “Hey I’ve got twenty-five minutes left. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out and get some lunch with me; but since we had to clean up your mess…” she grinned, showing that she didn’t mean any recrimination. “I think I’d better just get something replicated in here.”
He was able to catch the slight disappointment in her voice. He knew she liked to be out among people, and wasn’t uncomfortable in a crowded restaurant, contrary to his inner feelings. ~Opposites attract, right?~ He reminded himself, for the five-hundred thousandth time in their marriage.
“How about you sit down and I’ll make it for you. Turkey or roast beef?” He implied sandwiches, which were a frequent lunch menu for the two of them, and headed toward the small alcove where the replicator was located.
“Turkey. No, roast beef,” she said, changing her mind immediately. “On rye, extra horseradish.” She really wasn’t that hungry, to be exact. But she knew she should eat anyway, to stave off hunger pangs mid-afternoon. She sat quietly after placing her order, and was still waiting, almost holding her breath, to hear what he would have to say about her opportunity in Sickbay.
“Gotcha. Sounds good, I’ll have one, too.” He ordered the replicator to make the sandwiches, and added a couple of ice waters to the list. When the food appeared on the pad, he removed each dish and placed it onto a tray. All the while, he was running scenarios in his head, of what he would say, and what she would say, and what the outcome would be.
He took the tray into the living room and set it on the sofa next to her, sitting on the opposite side so he could face her comfortably as he sat down. Picking up his sandwich, he held it thoughtfully and began to speak. “Okay, you know I love you, right? So in love, I’m going to say that I’m worried about you jumping into something that’s going to be way over your head.” He took a bite of his sandwich, almost as if it were a defensive stance, to prevent himself from saying anything else.
“I get what you’re saying, Handsome. The thing is, if I can do this, then I can get some great experience, and perhaps get a CMO position myself, someday.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d even had a chance to process them. They’d never talked about her promoting up to a CMO. In fact, they’d talked about being content with wherever she was, and not working her head off to get promoted. Oops.
He sighed. “Look, Bree. I want you to be happy, you know that. But can’t you just *not* put the cart before the horse, and just take this thing and be content with what you have, and not go all hog-wild right out of the gate?” His voice had risen unintentionally, and he took a deep breath to return it to it’s normal timbre. “Okay. Right now, you’re just shadowing the CMO. That’s a good thing, in my book. Let’s not talk about anything beyond that until you’re done with the shadowing. I mean, a lot can happen between now and then, whenever that is, right?”
She nodded, her teeth busy working on a bite of sandwich. Swallowing, she said, “Well, yeah, I mean… I did say that we would talk about it after the shadowing, because I needed to have more information to go on before making any kind of decision. And you know I’m not going to decide without talking with you first.”
While that wasn’t always the case – she’d made a number of decisions over the years, without his consent; some of which were good ones, and some of which weren’t. To his credit, he never said ‘I told you so’, and he always accepted sharing the consequences of the bad decisions.
“That’s settled, then,” he said, and took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes focused on hers. His expression said much; that even though they’d almost raised their voices and argued, he wasn’t angry with her.
She was grateful for that, and she reached across the tray to squeeze his shoulder in acknowledgment. “I should get back; she’ll be ready for me by the time I arrive.” She wiped her mouth and rose from her seat. It was a bit of a walk to Sickbay, and she didn’t want to be late. “See you for dinner?” It was a rhetorical question.
“Yeap. What’cha want?” He meant it to ask what she wanted to have for the evening meal.
“Mmmm, pork chops, I think. The usual-- mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet corn, asparagus, and pears.” She straightened her uniform tunic and ran her fingers over the hair at the sides of her head, smoothing them back toward the ponytail she usually wore for work.
He stood and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back and nuzzling her neck with his mustache. A little nibble at the jugular set her to giggling. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
“You better marry me, you fool,” she whispered back, giving his middle a squeeze before pulling away, a grin on her face and a grateful expression in her eyes.
OFF:
A joint post by:
Ensign Bridget Stapleton
Doctor (General Practitioner) - DS5
and
Edward Stapleton (NPC)