Of All The Gin Joints...

Posted on 21 Feb 2015 @ 5:49pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson & Lieutenant Prudence Devin Ph.D.

2,992 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 7, Callisto Bar
Timeline: MD 44: 2327 hrs

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It was just the ship's lounge, but Ellsworth always took care to look good when he left his quarters off-duty. He knew he'd probably stick out like a sore thumb among officers and crewman in disheveled uniforms, but just because they were comfortable staying in that awful looking thing didn't mean he had to do it, too. Instead, he'd chosen a dark blue white-collared button down with short sleeves covered in golden symbols and a pair of too-tight black slacks.

If he'd been "on the prowl" then he would have done something a little more, but he just wanted a drink. The time just before and after departure from the starbase had been grueling and demanding for him, making sure that everything had been stored properly. It had stressed him out and this evening was the first time he felt he could breathe and let his hair down a little bit. Outside his quarters, of course. He wasn't sure what would happen if he cut loose in front of his chaplain roommate. It was bad enough the man had to share the room with a sex fiend; Ellsworth didn't want to make it worse by drinking, too.

When the doors parted, the young Betazoid sauntered in with a broad smile that faded fast. In fact, he almost tripped when he saw her at the bar. Before he could turn to leave and seek spirits elsewhere, she looked up and met his gaze.

Aw, shit, she saw me.

Prudence gave a small smile as she saw him. Rather than wearing a uniform, she wore a black pencil skirt with a dark red and black silk blouse. There was a simple necklace with it and her hair was free, curled and falling delicately onto her shoulders. She was nursing a glass of amber liquid. Scotch, proper stuff too. She looked like she belonged there. Truth was, Prudence had in the past used bars as her office, a drink in one hand and a PADD in the other, looking over records of violence and anger and trauma. The stars outside made it easier. Whether or not Ellsworth would come to her was another thing. That in itself was...interesting.

Ellsworth felt a great deal of social pressure to approach the bar. You couldn't just see someone you knew and ignore them, even if they were your therapist in a skirt with booze in her hand. Besides being rude it felt like it would be against his nature. He was a nice and friendly person with everyone on the ship (maybe a little too friendly with some of them) so Prudence shouldn't be an exception just because of the things she knew.

"Hey, Pru," Ellsworth said as he sauntered up to the bar next to her. He did a poor job of hiding a cheeky grin. "What's a lady like you doing in a place like this?"

"Drinking," she raised her glass before smiling, her eyes gentle. "And getting a sense of the crew...you can tell a lot from the way things go after a few drinks." He looked good. "You suit civilian clothes," she said, gently. It was the sort of remark an aunt made, she knew that well. But after 40, it seemed to become a default setting in her brain. She took a sip of her drink...well, a healthy sip anyway. Maybe it would awaken some part of her youthful self again?

Ellsworth ordered a Risian Eclipse for himself, something full of dark rum and tropical fruits, and hopped up on the stool next to Prudence. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, I'm pretty cute most of the time. Even when I first wake up, when the sun rises and gives a gentle glow to my perfect skin." He tilted his head back and stretched, giving a dramatic interpretation of his morning wake-up routine. He grinned at its conclusion and accepted the drink when it was delivered. "You know, you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just talked to the ship's gossip."

"Hmm...need to pin point who it is first," she said smoothly, aching an eyebrow as she met his eyes. "I am still getting to realise who is who...in the sense of who does what and can get you thinks. Still have not found the gambling group."

"James. He's the ringleader," Ellsworth said, discreetly pointing to a low-ranking crewman five stools down at the end of the bar. "He runs two games every week, one for the people who know what they're doing and one for people he and his buddies like to fleece. He likes to use latinum, but it's hard to come by so they'll use whatever they've got. I found out when I noticed some supplies that were supposed to be in one department were mysteriously in another department without anyone consulting me. A trade." Ellsworth sipped on his drink and watched Crewman James over the rim of his glass. "He thinks he's a real big shot, probably so he feels bigger than his rank, but he's just some petty asshole who's good at gambling."

She gave a small nod, watching the Crewman for a moment before looking away. "Mm...I find that the proper gamblers tend to compensate for something. Lack of rank...lack of a lot of other things..." she winked before sipping her drink. "What about gossiper?" she asked gently. "Who holds the ship's secrets?"

"Probably some nosy Betazoid," Ellsworth shrugged, looking coy. He set his glass down on the bar top and ran a finger along its rim, trying to get it to make that sound that had something to do with acoustics or whatever. "He's probably young and beautiful with a great smile and perfect hair. I bet people think he's charming and sweet, and he totally has amazing fashion sense. And his job is probably something where he has to deal with everyone on the ship, you know, like all the departments, pretty regularly so that he hears a lot of stuff."

Prudence laughed warmly, shaking her head as she watched him. "I am sure that the person is a vault of information. And approachable. And yes, the fashion sense..." she gestured to him, arching an eyebrow. "But I wouldn't want to beg information without buying him a drink."

"You're pretty good at this. Are you sure you don't work in the intelligence department?" Ellsworth asked teasingly. "I'll take another Risian Eclipse. With a little umbrella in it this time." He gave a smile to the bartender that was a little too wide, a telling sign that he was tipsy after just the first drink. "What do you wanna know? Best place for under-the-table hooch? Who can change your Bolian currency to Andorian currency the fastest? Which ensign just had a huge fight with her NCO boyfriend in Cargo Bay Two?"

Prudence's eyes widened at his words and she smiled, leaning a bit closer. "So truly all the up to date gossip too," she said and nodded. "Well. I do not know anyone here, not properly. So...any information at all. Who should I hide from if they're in a foul mood, where to go and what to avoid...anything."

"You don't want to be anywhere near the captain, ever," Ellsworth said, lowering his voice in an attempt to be discreet. "I've never seen him in a good mood. Hmm, let's see. There's a cranky old sod in engineering called Sokolov. I heard he's sexist, can you believe it? And then you should look out for the botanist, Van Zyl. He's just uptight and can't get over himself, all rules and regulations. I think he just needs to get laid, but he's so rigid I doubt he could get enough blood flowing to all the right places."

Ellsworth accepted his new drink and twirled the umbrella around between his fingers while reflecting on her questions.

"A lot of people hang out here off duty and in the arboretum of all places. Just don't crush a plant or Van Zyl will shit himself. The ship is really small, so you gotta try to be discreet if you want any...uh...'alone time' with someone." Ellsworth grinned and shrugged, as if he was some sort of expert on the matter. "You should always avoid Deck One; nothin' good ever happens there. And don't go to engineering cuz they get all spazzed out about you touching stuff, like, 'stay away from that plasma regulator console' or whatever." He rolled his eyes but then allowed a sly grin to cross his lips as he leaned closer to her, dropping his voice to an actual whisper. "But if you do go to engineering, be sure to check out Ensign Jones. He's got the best ass on the ship, so it's worth coming up with an excuse to go down there just to catch a peek."

Prudence chuckled softly, sipping her drink as she considered it. She liked Van Zyl, she understood him. But she also understood what he projected and could see why Ellsworth might think that. "At my age you give more a passing glance..." she shook her head, rolling her eyes as she smiled. "I do not tend to wander into other departments. If anything, it is all...well. Confusing. Equally, I'd rather just have a phaser handed to me and deal with it from there in a situation than to be sat in a room with the children."

Ellsworth smirked, feeling a little sloppy. "You're on the wrong ship, lady. People are poppin' those things out like candy from a dispenser around here." He leaned over closer to her and wobbled. "If you ask me, I think maybe somethin' is wrong with the rear admiral's pheromones, and it's makin' everyone on the ship a little... Well, you know."

"Space makes people randy too, not just Orions," Prudence almost shuddered and finished her drink, motioning for another one. "It makes people face their own mortality. Which means they want sex. Which means babies, on occasion..." she looked over at him before smiling. "Maybe they need to remind people of where babies come from? And what noise they make."

"Maybe you can incorporate it into your counseling sessions," Ellsworth said, inebriated enough to feel chatty with his therapist as if she was his true friend. "They had some very informative and educational posters at this one health clinic on Risa; definitely 100% cured me of ever wanting anything to do with baby-making or childbirth. Have you seen the way they come out of there? It's like, it's supposed to look like this." He held up his hands to make a small circle. "But then it gets like this. Then when the baby starts coming, it turns into this angry ring of fire, like all red and inflamed. Sometimes there's blood and this...stuff. Like mucous stuff." As if realizing for the first time he was talking to a woman, he blushed a little bit. "Sorry. I mean, it's just gross, that's all."

She chuckled and shook her head, taking the refilled drink and sipping it. "It's seeing the swollen belly with...movement...rippling movement across it..." she visibly grimaced, meeting his eyes. "Like some parasite. And afterwards...well, baby talk again and again and again, with nothing new or interesting to say. As if their own private life and acts never mattered, only the ones of that little soul-sucking creature they gave birth to..." she met his eyes again and nudged him. "But that is my personal opinion."

Ellsworth had his nose wrinkled up in disgust. He'd never really been around a pregnant woman to experience anything like that, but it sounded absolutely horrifying. "Ew, like one of those Trill things except it pops out." The more he thought about it, the more it started grossing him out so he tried changing the subject. Awkwardly. "Is that why you got a divorce, cuz you didn't want some babies?"

"Part of the reason," Prudence admit, frowning for a moment before shrugging. She had gotten over that years ago now. "He wanted children and I knew I would make a terrible mother. Besides...passion is fine, but we had arguments that shook the house. Sometimes, you need to know when to step back and take it all for what it is. And what I had with him was..." she stopped, looking at him before smiling weakly, embarrassed she had said so much. The alcohol must be getting to her head. "We changed. And not with each other."

"Huh," Ellsworth responded, loudly sucking up the rest of his drink through a straw. "I bet he was a dick. All men are dicks." He narrowed his eyes slightly and stared off into the distance, as if recalling all the horrible men he'd known over the course of his short life. "Especially men named K'os. And Pennington. And...well. Not Oren. Not anymore. He was for a little bit, just not right now. But the rest of them are. They're mean and selfish and hurtful."

"Not all men are that," she said and smiled weakly. "And he wasn't a...prick. He was and is...a good man. Just not my man anymore," she said and knocked her drink back. She mentally noted the names...and pushed them aside. She wasn't here like a counsellor now, she was drinking with...oh. It wasn't exactly great, what she was doing. Drinking with a patient. Another indiscretion to add to her list, another moral gone. "Okay, maybe he was a bit of a prick."

"Uh-huh, thought so," Ellsworth grinned. "You gotta take off your counselor hat. I guess you're right, though. They're not all that way, just most of them. Like, 99.9% of them, I think. But maybe you'll find a new husband in the fleet, huh? You still look good for the most part... Maybe we could do something with your hair. A little blush. Tighter skirt. Tickle you until you get that, 'I'm a serious counselor' look off your face. I'll keep an eye out for you."

Prudence frowned, touching her hair for a moment. "My hair is quite sufficient...bouncy..." she said and glanced at him. "And I am too old to wear skin-tight skirts...or mini skirts..." she looked at him, at his youthful face, and chuckled, reaching out to gentle touch his shoulder. "No reason for me to dress up like that. Not wanting another husband. I am quite happy on my own."

Ellsworth immediately looked appalled. How could someone her age not want another husband? She wasn't getting any younger; didn't she want someone to settle down with other than a holographic cat or whatever she used to occupy her affections? It seemed impossible for someone to be 'quite happy' on their own, which led him to believe she was lying to him and to herself. He leaned closer to her and dropped his voice to an actual whisper.

"Don't you ever need to...you know..." He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. "...take someone home? I mean, you're not that old, are you? I'm just sayin', a mini-skirt can go a long way. You've got nice legs. For a counselor."

The young, occasionally inappropriate, Betazoid smirked and leaned back to sit more firmly on his stool before flagging down the bartender to order another drink. He cut his eyes to look at Prudence, hoping to catch a shocked expression.

Prudence watched him, bemused, a bit surprised and clearly not used to it. She finally chuckled, shaking her head at the words, the smile coming to her. And a blush to her cheeks too. "No, I haven't got cobwebs in my 'special places' due to old age. But I am quite capable of sorting myself out. I...don't have a great need for physical closeness," she admitted, with a small smile. "And thank you. For a counsellor, I find my legs decently enough. I still prefer something that goes to the knee, it's...more proper for someone my position." And age.

He was so young, so messed up and free all at once. Had she ever been that young? She liked to think so. Truth was, Prudence knew she had been old before her time. Stiff upper lip and firm and everything. Someone had to after awhile. Yet she hoped he'd never get quite as cold as she did. Never quite as grown up.

"I would die without physical closeness," Ellsworth said, taking the opportunity to bring the conversation back to himself. "I think I might literally just die. I can't imagine a world where it's better not to have someone's warm, smooth skin pressed up against you. Their hands in your hair. Their tongue on your-" He stopped, cut his eyes in both directions, then grinned a little sheepishly. "Well. As you well know. Anyway, maybe next shoreleave I can take you out dancing and force you to have fun, Ellsworth-style. Cuz everyone needs a little bit of that once in awhile. Do you dance? You could even wear..." He gasped. "...a skirt above the knee. I won't tell the admiral if you don't."

She watched him, narrowing her eyes for a moment. "I do ballroom," she said before shaking her head. "Modern dancing is not my...cup of tea. So to speak. And men are complicated beings. Most people are. I work so much on...the person, in my work. Maybe that is why I am...enjoying my personal time as personal. That, or I am a bit cold." She gave him a small smile and her expression softened. "But next shoreleave, I am sure I would enjoy it. If only to see a master at work on the dancefloor."

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PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo
[ PNPC - Mott ]

&

Lt. Prudence Devin
Chief Counsellor
USS Galileo

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