Joint Duty Log - Cmdr Grant & Cn duPont - "Oh, de doo-da day"

Posted on Wed Oct 1st, 2014 @ 2:06am by Commander Logan Grant, PhD.
Edited on on Wed Oct 1st, 2014 @ 2:07am

1,478 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?

Cecil strode into the counseling area of the ship whistling a soft tune — Camptown Races, he believed was the title of the song. Captain Ivanova had sent him down here on a mission, to inquire of Commander Grant about the aliens on the planet and if there was any additional information about the mental state of that odd boy with the spaghetti strainer on his head.

When he reached the door to the Commander's office, Cecil took a long deep breath. He could tell that the Captain liked Dr. Grant, so he wanted to make a very good impression. Finally he pressed the chime, and waited.

"Come on in." Logan called out, sliding the PADD he was working on into one of his desk drawers. So far the day had been calm and quiet, filled with sprucing up his new environment with more pictures and a couple plants. The entirety of it was oh so very zen, something he'd discovered relaxed people way back when he was the executive officer of the Endeavour. He wouldn't lie if he was asked, however, the calm tranquility did wonders for his own temper.

The doors slid open, and Cecil walked in with his hands clasping his PADD behind his back. His eyes traveled over the room inspecting the plants, the pictures, the furniture, and eventually the man. Even just sitting down, it was clear that Dr. Grant was tall. Cecil smiled politely, crossing to the desk.

"Excuse me, Commander," Cecil started, standing up straighter. "The Captain asked me to see if you had any more information on the aliens... or Noah Waterhouse?"

"Yes on all of the above." He replied, tugging off a pair of old world style reading glasses. After the explosion on SB Whydah his eyes had never quite been the same. Doctors had promised the burns on his retinas would eventually heal, they'd been wrong at least to the degree that his eyes fatigued so much easier and faster than they ever had before. Getting old was also part of the equation, one he'd chosen to ignore. "How is she? The Captain?" He asked knowing her yeoman had the experience of working with her day after day, night after night.

"Captain Ivanova is okay. Stressed a little around the edges, understandably so given the situation, but her tea intake isn't much higher than normal, so not too bad overall," Cecil explained. He wondered if Dr Grant was a tea drinker too. That seemed to be a thing with those that surrounded the Captain. "I was surprised when she sent me down here, I would have thought she'd come herself. She seems to be happy you're here, on the ship." He smiled politely again.

Logan nodded in understanding as he listened to the plucky little fellow answer. A smile was awarded to him for his efforts and his honesty, even if the case was that Cecil most likely didn't know any better. He was harmless and Logan could appreciate harmless combined with relatively loose lips. "I'm not surprised that she didn't," The Kiwi replied, "She has bigger problems on her plate to attend to than coming to chit chat with me. Captains are strange and elusive beings, magical really." he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose in a final attempt to alleviate the fatigue of his eyes and building headache.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Cecil allowed. "Krogoth has been requesting a meeting since Waterhouse and the away team touched down. She finally let me schedule it, but I can tell she's not looking forward to it." Cecil paused and swallowed, glancing around as if he was concerned someone might overhear. "Tell you the truth, he scares me. And I don't think he's very happy." He rocked back onto his heels for a moment, flicking his PADD a little behind his back.

"Klingons are never very happy." Logan replied with a shake of his head. "You'd best just smile and nod around them, don't make any sudden movements. You know. Same protocol you'd follow if you ever found yourself in front of a rabid dog." Of course the Kiwi was joking, but when faced with the keyed up little yeoman he chose to punctuate the sentence with a wink just in case. "Stick by her side, Crewman, she's a strong woman but she needs her friends closer than her enemies."

"But isn't that old saying, keep your friends close, your enemies closer?" Cecil asked, scrunching his brow in thought. He considered adopting the smile and nod, avoiding sudden movements policy with Waterhouse. "She does keep friends close. She spends a lot of time with Waterhouse off duty, and they're always drinking tea together. Have you had any of their tea? The Captain shared with me once, I was amazed."

This time he couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head, "Forget the old adage, DuPont." He drawled with humor buzzing in his voice and motioned for the man to take a seat, a single finger tapping on the far side of the desk like one would ask a bar tender to hit them with another round. "She and Waterhouse go back a decent ways. About as far as she and I do." The counselor revealed. It was no secret, pictures of Rochelle, his wife and Anne dotted the walls. They were family. "Tea time is special time. It's a whole other language. Feel special that she shared with you." There was nothing quite like buttering someone up, especially when they were obviously so hard pressed for the approval of one person. He'd give Cecil a measure of hope along with a measure of truth. Rochelle Ivanova trusted hardly anyone and tea meant trust.

Cecil grinned wide, and quickly sat where the counselor directed, moving his PADD so that it now sat in his lap. "It did feel special. It was only just the once, when we were shuffling paperwork to leave the Qu’Vat shipyards, but it was lovely. She shared some lavender chamomile tea, in real tea cups... Before that, I'd always hated tea cups, since my kid sister had always whined to our parents if I didn't play tea party with her when we were small," he confessed. "So, you were on the Griffin too, sir?"

If he'd been a lesser man, Logan would have been lost in the quick, excited chirp-babble the yeoman emitted having had his ego stroked. It was an incredible amusement, though the logical mind of the counselor warned him that the Crewman was most definitely entirely co-dependent on the approval his Captain rendered him. It was something he'd mark in a file and keep in his pocket until a time when the behavior became detrimental... or Rochelle simply begged him for the magic word to make Cecil heel. "I was." he nodded and leaned back ever so slightly, gesturing to some of the pictures on the walls. "I met my wife on that ship, so I have a lot to thank that old hunk of scrap metal for."

"Certainly a great reason to thank a ship for," Cecil returned with a smile, as he considered the pictures indicated. He could see the Captain in some of them, along with a blond woman who he could only guess is the counselor's wife. There was also a girl, but she was too old to have been born after the time he knew Captain Ivanova had served on the Griffin. "Is that your daughter too?"

Logan looked up towards the picture Cecil referred to and smiled warmly. "Biologically speaking, no." He replied, studying Anne's smiling face as she held Schlompi up to the camera. "but she's every bit my daughter in every way that counts."

"Where are they? If you don't mind me asking?" Cecil considered the rat in the picture, was it Andorian? It's big, that much is for sure. Looked smart too.

"Earth." Logan was a lot of things, but used to answering questions wasn't one of them, especially not about his family. "I'll have the Captain's files ready for the meeting and I'll make sure I send a copy along before hand so she can have a look. Let her know she owes me dinner and I'll come collecting soon enough." He smiled in his own way of saying enough was enough.

"Sorry to have taken your time," Cecil returned, quickly standing. There was no doubt he'd managed to overstay his welcome. He smiled politely, swinging his PADD behind his back again. "Thank you sir." And with that Cecil made for the door.

"Any time, Crewman, any time." A smile and a nod were granted to the young, ambitious, yeoman and Logan once again turned his attention to the information on his desk.

--x--

Commander Logan Grant
Ship Counselor
USS Vindicator

-&-

Crewman Cecil duPont
Captain's Yeoman
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E

 

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