Once Upon A Dream

Posted on Fri Aug 16th, 2024 @ 11:35pm by Ensign Vivienne Conrad & Commodore Jacob Kane

Mission: Into the Qniverse
Location: ??
Timeline: Following "Whatever Floats Your Boat"
1435 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure

The reaction had been instinctual and certainly not with any intent. Being woken in such a manner for a start was shock enough for someone not used to sharing their bed. But the rush of new sensations and sharp change of location triggered what was, on reflection, probably a fairly reasonable reaction.

"What-!?" Kane demanded, sitting upright and noticing immediately that something was wrong. Very wrong. The curls ticking his neck and cheeks. The soft layers of material against his skin. The somewhat taken aback Ensign standing in front of him. "Where...how...?" It took a few seconds to piece things together. "Q!" he snarled furiously.

Anger, Vivienne supposed, was not an unrealistic reaction. Too much drink tended to heighten aggressive tendencies and she had chosen to poke the bear as a last ditch effort to rouse it from hibernation. She'd gone from kneeling on the bed to several steps away from it, hands held up in supplication, because as much as Kane had a decent amount of explaining to do, it was unlikely he was going to be much good at it whilst he was speaking in tongues.

"Easy, easy..." After a brief pause, she added. "Sir. Just take a moment, you're all right." As much as a grown, bald man wearing a pink nightgown and blonde wig could be considered all right, though she'd cut out her own tongue before she commented on his personal preferences in a negative way.

"Ensign..." He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped as a wisp of hair stuck itself to his lips. "Stupid...thinks this is funny..." the words came out as a growl as he went to snatch the 'wig' from his head, only for it to remain fixed in place like real hair. Struggling with the taffeta and lace to shift to an upright seated position, he studied the room briefly then turned his attention back to Conrad. "Where are we? What's the situation?"

The tiniest seed of doubt crept in. It was clear Kane was embarrassed, which either meant he was having second thoughts after sobering up or his first thoughts weren't quite what she'd anticipated. One thing was certain, she wasn't someone he'd expected to see; there was the palpable presence of a third party in the Commodore's muttered unhappiness. This was someone's idea of a joke? Despite everything, Vivienne found herself suitably impressed that anyone could sport balls big enough to pull this kind of stunt. The prospect of meeting such a person went a long way to resolving the confusing mixture of annoyance and very vague disappointment, that was really more her ego's detour from having no feasible reason to suspect her own involvement was anything more than a series of poor, conveniently-forgotten mistakes. She immediately resolved to never speak of her first attempt at reading the situation.

Before she answered Kane's question, Vivienne wrinkled her nose slightly at his struggle with the ill-fitting wig and took pity. Deciding which ribbon to pluck from the Commodore's outfit took a moment of deciphering the difference between function and pure decoration, but one had already unravelled on the shoulder and a swift yank dislodged it entirely. With exactly the same kind of focus-on-solution that had got her into trouble in the past, Vivienne didn't wait for permission. Doing the best she could, she gathered a fistful of curls and tied the ribbon to keep the worst offenders out of Kane's eyes. Only once she was set to the task did she respond with a conversational tone that might have matched their proximity, but wasn't likely to do much for her service record in the long run.

"Best I can tell, some old abandoned castle in the middle of an old abandoned forest. I couldn't tell you how I got here, only that it took me a good while to beat a path to your door."

For once, Conrad's brain caught up with her in time to amend that slip.

"It's pretty overgrown outside, sir. I haven't seen anyone else." Then, because she still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't expecting a visitor, even if it seemed less likely that he was going to relish their company, Vivienne added, "Not that I've really gone looking. First priority was to wake you up."

"Yes. Well." She had done a good job of that. Or at least she had succeeded. He glanced down at his state of dress again, feeling the frustration simmering as he did his best to maintain focus on what was needed in this situation. "Ensign...we should, ah, perhaps keep the nature of this rather unusual circumstance to ourselves. It wouldn't do for the crew's commanding officer to be...well, you know."

He stood up, realising immediately that doing so was easier said than done with a dainty pair of shiny heeled shoes on his feet. Scowling, he very abruptly yanked them off his feet and made a point of standing barefoot. "Finding a way out of here is, I assume, part of Q's game. Shall we?"

Well, that's a first. Conrad couldn't remember the last time a superior had asked for her confidence, but Kane's stuttered attempt did evoke a sense of pity for the poor man's shattered plans. This might have been more of a poorly-executed practical joke than she'd first assumed but Vivienne could empathise with the frustration of maintaining associations that didn't know when to behave. "Your secret's safe with me, sir," she offered alongside a small smirk of sympathy, before turning her attention to his invitation.

"It was pretty much pitch black when I first arrived," Vivienne supplied, moving towards the room's singular window to take a peek out. "Huh." Wrestling with the damp-swollen timber, she managed to heave the window open just enough for the sound of songbirds to filter through. "And now it's morning. Some sort of holo-projection then. I mean," Vivienne straightened and turned back towards the Commodore, "Unless this Q lot have found a way to speed up time." Her dark eyes studied the man's expression and, uncharacteristically, Conrad hesitated. "Who are they exactly? Their idea of party planning is a bit..." She searched for the right word and couldn't help that the most apt seemed to be, "...scandalous."

"I think they would describe it as 'mischievous' or 'entertaining'. But in my opinion it's frustrating and irritating..." Kane scowled. "But reports also indicate these games to be potentially dangerous. We just don't know." He grumpily lifted the excessive skirts and took a few steps to see for himself. "But yes, very much like a holoprogram. I suspect we have to play through whatever story Q has in mind for us."

"And how are we meant to know what that is?" Nothing about the explanation lifted Vivienne's incredulity. If anything, whilst the culpability was quickly being removed from Kane's shoulders, her initial concerns about expectations weren't exactly being disproven. "Who exactly are we meant to be? You look..." Tilting her head to the side, the young ensign broke form and actually tried to be tactful. "...like a fairly stereotypical damsel in distress."

What he actually looked like was a Bolian drag act that had once booked the eastern resort district entirely out for a weekend, but Vivienne wasn't sure the comparison was helpful under the circumstances.

"And I look like I beat up a troubadour. At first, I thought Sleeping Beauty but you're awake and, um..."

It suddenly occurred to her that Kane might not recall the lengths she'd gone to to wake him up.

"...I don't think I remember the rest of the story, they tend to gloss over it a bit."

"My knowledge of old Earth history tends to be a little more 'practical' than childish fairy tales," Kane grunted. "But most fairy tale...'princesses'...aren't also trained and experienced Starfleet officers. We're getting out of here." As if to emphasise that point, he picked up a wooden chair, smashed it hard onto the stone floor, and picked up a piece of reasonably sturdy wood as a makeshift club. "Shall we?"

It took more muscle control than Conrad actually possessed to mask the look of dubious hesitation that froze her features in place. Perhaps it would have been easier if he just wanted a quick... "Uh, yeah." Vivienne interrupted her own train of thought lest their hosts decide to add telepathy to their repertoire. Bending down, she retrieved a much shorter, yet sharper, sliver of former-chair and brandished it with reluctant enthusiasm. "Let's rewrite some fairy tales."