This Is NOT A Booty Call

Posted on Tue Nov 5th, 2024 @ 8:38am by Ensign Vivienne Conrad & Ensign Kateyo Fenn
Edited on on Fri Nov 8th, 2024 @ 1:38pm

Mission: Character Development
Location: Personal Quarters, USS Athena
Timeline: In the aftermath of Q's shenanigans.
4073 words - 8.1 OF Standard Post Measure

It had been a long few days and Teyo just needed to relax, the problem was he didn't know how. After all that had happened in his Q-mare, a phrase he had decided to coin, being around people was the last thing that he wanted right now. But for some reason being in his quarters wasn't working for him either. He wandered the ship, the mess hall, the bar, even the gym but nothing felt right. There were just too many voices laughing, joking, loving...all of which he didn't need right now. If he was being honest with himself, the thought of running into Mason also gnawed at the back of his mind. He hadn't seen the human since their shared experience and until he could figure out his own feelings, he had no desire to see him.

Luckily one of the holodecks was down due to maintenance issues, no problem for one of the ship's best engineers. It hadn't taken him long to bypass the lock and bring up a simple beach program. It wasn't quite as relaxing as normal; the air didn't smell of salt, the temperature was too cold, and the sand felt more like grass, but it was a perfect spot for some solitary drinking. He clutched the bottle of Aldebaran whiskey which was meant to be a birthday present for Xavier but he decided his needs right now far outweighed his Betazoid friend. He drank directly from the bottle and stared at the moon as it made its nightly trip across the horizon. He would have liked a planet with multiple moons, all dancing around each other like a performance designed only for him, but he didn't want to risk the holodeck malfunctioning any more than it already was.

Teyo knew he had been drinking for far too long when he realised that there actually were two moons in the sky and couldn't work out why when he tried to focus on them, they jumped and danced around his peripheral vision. He wanted to continue until he passed out but the logical part of his brain dragged him to his feet and took him to the exit, not before grabbing the bottle of whiskey to drink along the way. It was a short ride back to his quarters and in no time he found himself standing outside the familiar grey door. Except this wasn't his room, it was Conrad's, how had he ended up here? He had no idea what time it was and his logical brain was ready to take over again, guide him home before he made a fool of himself. Teyo reached out and pressed the chime button, his logical brain had clearly gone to bed for the night.

---

One of the many niche talents Conrad had, and of particular use to a young teenager growing up on a place like Risa where timetables were loose and negotiable and opportunities to readjust one's personal schedule were excessively lucrative almost year-round, was the ability to fall asleep anywhere and be completely dead to the world. This combined with a lack of need for a large amount of rest and became a particularly useful arsenal when transferring the same need for flexibility to the life of a Starfleet engineer on the most batshit crazy ship in the fleet. No matter the situation, Vivienne could usually make the most out of even a cat-nap, and hadn't so much never experienced insomnia as never suffered from it, since the rare occasion where she didn't just drop off almost instantly usually just became justification for a better activity. Such convenience mixed with the infrequency of necessity was truly the best of both worlds, and she had taken it for granted pretty much up until now. Suddenly, she'd lost the ability not only to shut her brain off, but to find something suitably engaging to keep it busy whilst she figured out where the off button was.

It was Kane's fault. Technically, it was Q's fault, but the level of frustration that was impacting Conrad's composure didn't stem so much from the entity's shenanigans as it did the Commodore's reaction to it all. He had made it clear that on no uncertain terms was she to discuss what had happened with all and sundry, had declared the incident as requiring discretion and been generally such a prickly bastard about the whole thing that Vivienne's had felt a rebel's urge to find a willing audience and divulge everything. Self-preservation had begrudgingly kicked in but it had left her with a bitter taste in her mouth, especially as the day had progressed and it had seemed everyone else was finding ways to digest what had happened through sharing stories and reflecting on the ridiculousness of it all. Conrad supposed, if she wanted to be fair, she could see Kane's point. Nothing about the experience had been particularly flattering from his point of view and he did have an entire task force to manage but trying to pretend that none of it had happened was only helping him as far as she could tell. Even if the others weren't sharing all the details, they had each other for debriefing. Vivienne was pretty sure her Commanding Officer had forgotten there was another person possibly impacted by story progression, which seemed pretty shitty when said person had been poised to fight a whole-ass dragon on her own.

She would have won too. Just another thing to get absolutely no credit for.

In the end, she'd combatted the sense of loneliness and irritation by heading straight back to work, despite being given some respite time if required. It hadn't improved her mood much but it had made the time go faster and, before she'd really noticed, her shift was ending and it was back to her quarters to push the image of flaxen curls framing a stubbled chin from her mind long enough to sleep. To her continued exasperation, all she'd achieved was pulling her bed to pieces as she tossed and turned. Ordinarily, that would have just meant she wasn't tired enough and there would have been a general willingness to go find a distraction until she was. This time, she hadn't wanted to see people, hadn't wanted to get dressed again, and had decided she didn't care if she blew a month's worth of replicator credits on comfort food. It explained the fact that her entire table was festooned with snacks and at least gave some context to her sitting cross-legged on the floor with her guitar. It also accounted for the scowl she shot the door as the chime interrupted her playing, and the fact that there was quite a lengthy pause before the entrance slid open, activated manually by a petite engineer wearing her best 'this better be good' expression.

It took all of a moment's recognition for her to narrow her eyes and reach for the door-close-again button.

"Hey, you up?" Teyo said, his eyes wandering slightly as they tried to focus on the woman standing before him. He leaned against the door frame, trying to appear nonchalant but secretly using it for balance so that he didn't topple straight into her quarters. His eyes fell on a point just beyond her hair and his face turned into a grin. "You have snacks!" He exclaimed in a loud voice that they probably heard halfway along the corridor.

Only an idiot would let him in, especially in this state. Though there had been a considerable amount of distraction to dilute her anger, there was still the matter of opening his fat mouth to speculate on her behalf left to deal with. Conrad was tired, though, and had used up most of her remaining energy being pissed with their Commanding Officer. Putting Fenn in his place was a worthy cause but only if he could stay conscious enough to stay there. Trying to do it now would be a fool's errand.

With her hand hovering over the door release, Vivienne considered the mounting evidence of her own stupidity and didn't even attempt to hide the frustrated grumble of defeat as she let her arm drop to her side in a slump. The unfortunate reality was, it would also take some kind of heartless asshole to turn the Trill away when it was clear the only thing keeping him upright was a whiff of good luck and possibly liquor, the stench of which filled the space between them as he spoke. Perhaps there was room to hope that he was intoxicated enough to consider apologising, but she honestly doubted it.

"Get in here," she muttered, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in before anyone stuck their head out to find out what the excitement was about. Thankfully, Vivienne had anticipated a lack of coordination and managed to brace herself well enough to bear the brunt of Teyo's weight as the lack of wall suddenly gave him only his fellow engineer as a prop. "What the hell have you been drinking?"

"Easy panther," Teyo said as he stumbled into her quarters and nearly falling flat on his face. He clung onto Conrad for balance and was impressed that she was able to take his weight without falling over herself. "You're pretty strong," he said. It was meant to be a compliment but the slurring didn't allow it to come out that way. "It's whiskey I think," he handed her the bottle so roughly, had it been full it would have spilled all over her top.

Who would notice, Vivienne found herself idly speculating, if he just didn't turn up for shift one day? It was a rhetorical thought, the kind of excessive aggression she kept for her internal monologue because no matter the provocation, it actually took a lot to make the engineer snap entirely. A razor sharp wit and a lack of compunction about who she directed at didn't automatically equate to actual aggression. If she was lucky, it usually took people a while to realise Vivienne was made up of layers and layers of sharp pointy things surrounding a heart that contained at least a few golden flecks. She wouldn't murder Fenn, not this time; having a back-up plan wouldn't hurt, though.

"This is whiskey," she agreed, digging the heel of her palm into her sternum as if rubbing fiercely was going to prevent a bruise from forming. "But I know you wouldn't have downed a top shelf blend like it was lemonade." Her tone carried about as much conviction as could be expected, which was to say hardly any. With some manoeuvring, Conrad half-guided, half-hauled her late-night visitor towards the closest armchair and stood back as he made a mess of organising his limbs. With any luck, he'd forget about the snacks until she had a chance to put them out of eyeshot; the last thing he needed right now was more junk in his stomach. "You look like hell," Viv added helpfully, though her evaluation was noticeably short on sympathy. "I'd call it an improvement but even I can't lie that well."

Teyo scrunched up his face in dismay. "Even on my worse days I looked better than them," he slurred, waving his arm absentmindedly towards the room's entrance, threatening to knock an ornament from its shelf. His eyes widened as he noticed the snacks again and he half crawled, half dragged himself closer to them. "You were having a party and didn't invited me?" He asked, his mouth full of crisps and dip.

"Does it look like a party?" The snapped response was overly short but something about being forced to acknowledge her solitude only cemented Conrad's annoyance at the evening in general. Spending a few hours in the lounge, even if she'd wound up serving behind the bar, would have been a preferrable way to wind down after a shoreleave that had been excessively 'interesting' but on top of not feeling up to putting on a socially-acceptable façade, an inability to join in conversations about recent experiences, much less run the risk of sharing any of her own, had soured the idea of being around other people. "I was in the process of enjoying some peace and quiet, probably should have guessed that wouldn't last long."

Little by little, Vivienne could feel her agitation specifically towards the Trill trickle away into a vat of far more generalised irritation. The trouble with that was it took away the potency of any banter she could fling at him and left her instead with the rather frazzled, weary tones of, "What are you doing here, Fenn?" If he was this drunk it stood to reason he'd been participating in some sort of soiree of his own. She couldn't imagine what had prompted him to abandon it and show up on her doorstep to steal her crisps.

"It's not a booty call," he replied a little too quickly and too defensively. "It's not!" He repeated, trying to gauge if Conrad believed him or not. He was trying to read the look on her face but he was struggling to keep it in focus right now, though he had known her long enough to imagine the type of face she was pulling. He pulled himself into a sitting position but moved too quickly and slid off the sofa and onto the floor. He laughed at his own clumsiness.

"I was having a drink," he suddenly remembered the bottle of whiskey and started looking around for it. Maybe he had drank it all but what had happened to the empty bottle? "...And I was heading home and then I was here. I think I was in the transporter beam but there is no blue." He shrugged, giving up on what he was saying and giving up on looking for his drink. "I wanted to see a friendly face."

As much as it had been nearly impossible to keep her expression passive at his choice of initial defense, Vivienne was nevertheless experienced enough at decoding Drunk Male to wait until the end of the rambling explanation to attempt a translation. Ordinarily, vehemence over a lack of intent to proposition her would have met with limited concern but there was the whole misunderstanding about the private machinations of bald Commodores to factor into recent ego recoveries. Did the universe really need to orchestrate multiple examples of disinterest in the one week? A slight scowl marred Conrad's attempt at neutrality, which landed the conversation in a rather odd place once Fenn slowly stumbled towards the inevitable grain of truth amongst his disorientation. Of all the choices to describe her face currently, 'friendly' was not even close to the top of the list.

Until, after a flicker of uncertainty, it almost was. Sprawled on the floor, unable to manage his own centre of gravity, the Trill looked pathetic, a description that only gained relevance as Vivienne realised there had been no talk of anyone else participating in his drunken exploits. There was only a handful of reasons for a person to wipe themselves out to this extent whilst drinking alone and Vivienne wouldn't have considered Fenn a likely contender for any of them. Gradually, her scowl shifted to a frown and she eased herself into a crouch to face him, the lilt of her eyebrows not without a measure of humour as she studied his face.

"And this was your best choice?" The slight twitch of her mouth was indication enough that Conrad had found her ability to laugh at herself.

Teyo laughed. It started as a small bark but then turned into an uncontrollable full-body laugh. "Apparently so," he eventually said as he wiped tears from his eyes. He pulled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His aim tonight had been to forget about his adventure with Mason during Q's games. He wanted to forget it all, the memories, the feelings, the death. But somehow drinking had only brought it all to the forefront of his memory. Where he normally was able to compartmentalise his feelings, he was struggling this time and as the barriers finally fell away he freely let the tears stream down his face. "I miss the voices, Viv," he said sadly.

Against all odds, it took only a moment for Conrad's deep frown to soften. Leave it to Fenn to be a messy drunk. Still, there was the initial motivation to determine since there was no point querying why he'd put away this much on his own without figuring out why he'd picked up the bottle in the first place. Vivienne knew she'd headed back to work earlier than expected but she was reasonably sure it was duty shifts as normal the next day; at this rate, Fenn was going to struggle to keep his breakfast down, let alone manage to crawl through the jefferies system hunting down stray gremlins.

Employing a tried and tested strategy that had seen her talk down more too-far-gones than she cared to recall, Vivienne eased herself onto the ground beside the stricken Trill and pressed her back against the chair in solidarity. Side by side, both with the same unimpressive view of her living room, she kept her stance relaxed by crossing her legs and lifting a squinted eye towards the ceiling.

"You know, I'm pretty sure hearing voices is a bad sign." It was an observation offered lightly enough to pass as humour whilst still supporting the next question's attempt to clarify. "Do I want to know what they were saying?"

Teyo smirked, immediately followed by a loud hiccup. "I used to think voices was bad too," he replied, his voice thick with emotions and whiskey. He lowered his legs so that they were flat on the ground, the toes of his boots pointing up at the ceiling. His arms wrapped around his abdomen as he looked down at his flat stomach. "They say it's time for me to be a man, or a woman, or whatever. They said it's time to grown up."

The rambling logic of intoxication wasn't always easy to keep up with. Vivienne took a moment to study Fenn's stance, the position he'd adopted, the direction his gaze took, and wound up none-the-wiser for having asked. Still, the general gist of his response suggested a level of self-reflection she possibly hadn't expected him to be capable of and, out of surprise more than guilt, Vivienne gave the matter consideration rather than brushing it off. "Any particular reason for why they're saying that?," she asked, even managing to curb the desire to poke fun at the tardiness of the sentiment.

Teyo turned to Viv as if only just realising that she was there. He was shocked at her question, as though the answer was so simple that the question itself should never have been asked. "To make me a better man," he said. Despite the simplicity of the question, there was no sarcasm in his voice, no mocking, no humour, just a matter-of-fact, straight-laced answer. "I know, before you say it, that's impossible goals," he smiled sadly.

Without the same amount of liquid ambition coursing through her system, Vivienne was marginally more reluctant to let her guard down. The fact she'd even consider it given present company was baffling on the best of days but one slight and mostly undefined detail caused her to hesitate. She'd never really bought into Fenn's bluster, and being disinclined to trust scuttlebutt in a general sense because it was often peppered with fallacies about herself, Conrad had been left very early on with the impression that the crew scapegoated the Trill for their own amusement and he craved attention so badly that he went along with it. With the amount of derogatory warnings she'd received when she'd first arrived, she'd expected to find the man completely without friends, and yet he never seemed to be alone very often. It made for a fickle bunch of unreliable narrators and she realised now, as she recognised the genuine sadness in his eyes, that she'd always been more inclined to roll her eyes at those who claimed to have a problem with him whilst seeking him out at every opportunity. Her frustration with Teyo had stemmed from him seeming oblivious to it all; now she wasn't so sure.

"Well," she conceded, jostling sideways gently to bump against him. "Better isn't the same as best." The mischief of a half-smirk fuelled an uncommonly soft huff of laughter and the pilot considered her unlikely friend's expression before adding, "And it would depend how badly you wanted it yourself."

Teyo nodded, her words having a sobering effect on him. For the first time since he had entered the room, he felt present. He could have gone to see anyone tonight and knew that all his friends would have reacted in ways that defined their personalities. Dash would have joined in with the drinking and escalated the chaos of his internal thoughts. Mason would have confiscated his drink and encouraged him to talk about his feelings whilst simultaneously pitying him. Xav might have drank with him or taken his drink away, he was harder to read these days. But Conrad, she was just letting him be. She wasn't trying to fix him and he appreciated that more than he realised.

"You being nice is nice," Teyo eventually said. He raised a questioning eyebrow, his eyes still struggling to focus on her face. "Are we friends?"

Up until that point, it had been easy to brush aside the familiarity implied by their current positioning as merely symptomatic of a good citizen's attempt to step in before someone did themselves an injury. The veer towards personal analysis wasn't a coherency Vivienne had bargained for and she faltered, just slightly, as a natural retort failed to present itself. Friendship was an iffy subject, and more often than not the insecurity was on the other foot.

"Well," she managed after a moment, her voice leaning towards its natural husk as she did her best not to let her vulnerability get the better of things, "we did kick the shit out of some pirates together. That's gotta count for something."

"That is a fun thing to do with a friend," Teyo replied. He felt content and sleepy, oh very sleepy. He didn't have the energy to move and he wasn't sure if he could hold himself up now even if he did. So he stayed where he was and let his head slump onto Viv's shoulder. "We should go at that again," he mumbled as her hair tickled his nose. "Pirates are stupid."

They're not the only ones.

For once, the recrimination wasn't aimed at the man currently drooling on her shirt but directly inwards to the grimacing acceptance that there was something inherently regretful about the way this was likely to play out. Teyo was blissful now but the morning was going to be a different matter, especially as there was no chance she was going to be able to shift him into a more comfortable position if he passed out now.

"Come on, you. Couch."

Vivienne wasn't sure which of them was more deserving of an award but, in a feat of negotiation that resulted in only one probable bruise, she was left staring at second instance of Kateyo Fenn taking up residence in her quarters and found herself amused, despite everything, by what the scuttlebutt would make of that. Without any real need given his rapid descent into oblivion, she moved quietly to pack away what remained of the night's food and paused a moment in the kitchen to nurture a glimmer of empathy. A turned head considered the sprawled mess of a man and Vivienne exhaled in defeat.

Always the chaotic ones.

Several minutes later, with the main lights dimmed to the lowest setting to avoid disorientation, the only lingering adjustment other than her newly-acquired lounge ornament was a glass of liquid set on the coffee table, pulled to a position where it would draw the eye from a horizontal repose. Next to it, a PADD was propped up, and on it a simple message.

Drink this. Don't argue. Breakfast at 0800.