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caffeyNote: This is for fun purposes only, but it's not intended to make fun of anyone but the characters portrayed. This is coming from a person on a caffeine high and suffering insomnia (it's 11:30 am local and sleep still eludes her). In other words, she's insane and doesn't mean harm. In fact, she really likes the theme of this new contest and seriously considers entering, but due to the aforementioned sufferings, couldn't help herself and came up with this little ficlet after 20 long hours of being awake.
Thanks go out to Anne Rose and caldosh, beta readers and co-conspirators extraordinaire. They should also be awarded medals for putting up with me when I'm in this state of mind. It sure can't be healthy for them.
A Day in the Lives of our Beloved, Albeit Demented, Voyager Crew
By This Insane Gal (formerly known as Caffey)
Once upon a time, in a quadrant far, far away, a redhead Captain, unexpectedly and for no immediately obvious reason, asked her darkly handsome First Officer to follow her to the Ready Room. When Tattoo Guy failed to react with the expected speed, Redhead took things into her own hands, literally, and dragged him off by his hair.
Meanwhile, Flyboy, who had been waiting years for one of them to make a move on the other, coaxed his body into the most humanly impossible positions in order to keep a close tab on his commanding officers for as long as possible. Inevitably, that maneuver resulted in a loud thud when he fell off of his chair and much bruising when he hit the hard floor seconds afterwards. The narrator will refrain from repeating the colorful expletives that followed.
Redhead and Tattoo Guy were, however, blissfully oblivious. Although love, even lust, had nothing to do with it. Redhead was much too busy dragging the much taller and much heavier Tattoo Guy into her Ready Room. And Tattoo Guy -- well, suffice it to say he was in too much pain to notice anything but his hair being ripped off his scalp.
Flyboy, counting his blessings, took advantage of his position on the floor to watch the spectacle playing out in front of him and the other, albeit shocked-into-silence, bridge crew until the Ready Room doors closed.
Sadly, the narrator will have to stop at this point, since she unfortunately doesn't possess x-ray vision. Nor is she in any shape, physically as well as mentally, to transform into a fly on the wall. Not to mention that, much to her dismay, the Ready Room walls are soundproof.
The End (unless the narrator spontaneously mutates into a fly that can slip through airtight doors)
Thanks go out to Anne Rose and caldosh, beta readers and co-conspirators extraordinaire. They should also be awarded medals for putting up with me when I'm in this state of mind. It sure can't be healthy for them.
A Day in the Lives of our Beloved, Albeit Demented, Voyager Crew
By This Insane Gal (formerly known as Caffey)
Once upon a time, in a quadrant far, far away, a redhead Captain, unexpectedly and for no immediately obvious reason, asked her darkly handsome First Officer to follow her to the Ready Room. When Tattoo Guy failed to react with the expected speed, Redhead took things into her own hands, literally, and dragged him off by his hair.
Meanwhile, Flyboy, who had been waiting years for one of them to make a move on the other, coaxed his body into the most humanly impossible positions in order to keep a close tab on his commanding officers for as long as possible. Inevitably, that maneuver resulted in a loud thud when he fell off of his chair and much bruising when he hit the hard floor seconds afterwards. The narrator will refrain from repeating the colorful expletives that followed.
Redhead and Tattoo Guy were, however, blissfully oblivious. Although love, even lust, had nothing to do with it. Redhead was much too busy dragging the much taller and much heavier Tattoo Guy into her Ready Room. And Tattoo Guy -- well, suffice it to say he was in too much pain to notice anything but his hair being ripped off his scalp.
Flyboy, counting his blessings, took advantage of his position on the floor to watch the spectacle playing out in front of him and the other, albeit shocked-into-silence, bridge crew until the Ready Room doors closed.
Sadly, the narrator will have to stop at this point, since she unfortunately doesn't possess x-ray vision. Nor is she in any shape, physically as well as mentally, to transform into a fly on the wall. Not to mention that, much to her dismay, the Ready Room walls are soundproof.
The End (unless the narrator spontaneously mutates into a fly that can slip through airtight doors)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 09:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 10:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 10:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 10:18 am (UTC)Gosh, I am hungry! why does alcohol always make me hungry the next day.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 10:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 11:04 am (UTC)I did do horribly when I tried to patch this morning... I gave up pretty quickly and am now doing some mindless sorting through data
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 11:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 12:12 pm (UTC)