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"Strike Three"
Rating: PG Girls’ Night (5) Ensign Linda Pierson reached down and slowly painted red fingernail polish on her toenails. “Fire Engine red!” she laughed. She was sitting on the floor near the cabin door with her back against the wall dressed in a cream colored sleeveless shell and a pair of black shorts. Her tennis shoes sat on the floor next to her with her socks draped over them. “How about Fire Engine red AND tangerine orange!” Ensign Elizabeth Cutler turned her foot so the other three women in the cabin could see her toenails. She tapped her fingers against her bare leg and then flopped her arm across her stomach “So what did Ryce say then, Patty?” Elizabeth pulled her leg back up on the chair so she could reach her toes. Sitting on the top bunk of the cabin Ensign Patty Loveless was applying another layer of red lipstick to her lips, admiring the shade in a hand held mirror in front of her. She kissed her lips together and commented, “I wish we could wear makeup all the time. I really miss that,” then Patty grinned. “He asked what else I had in mind.” Patty fluttered her eyelashes. “He didn’t!” Ensign Marsha McDowny gasped and then giggled. Marsha, Elizabeth Cutler’s roommate, was lying on her bunk flipping through a magazine. She was still wearing her undershirt but had changed into a pair of cotton shorts. “Ooooo. Patty, watch him. He is a total player,” Linda warned. “That’s true.” Patty paused. Her lips turned into a full grin. “But so am I!” The four women laughed together. “So, how far do you think T’Pol’s made it with Trip?” Elizabeth asked. “Oh, she’s at least made first base I’ve heard. But I’m sure there is a whole lot more that rumors haven’t heard,” Linda laughed “I never would have thunk them two together,” Patty said. “Oh pa-lease!” Linda cried. “From day one those two were undressing each other with their eyes. Any fool could see that!” “Any fool except them,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And I’m sure she has controlled Vulcan emotions when they’re together, too,” Patty giggled. Again the four laughed. The doorbell beeped. “We all decent?” Elizabeth asked. “Don’t answer it,” Patty whispered. The doorbell beeped again. “I have to,” Elizabeth whispered back, laughing. “No. You’re dead. Dead people don’t answer doors,” Linda giggled. Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer it. Marsha lunged at Elizabeth, slapping her hand over Elizabeth’s mouth. The four started giggling. “No. No answer. I forbid it!” Marsha whispered. The doorbell rang a third time. Elizabeth pulled Marsha’s hand down. “It could be—” “We all died and we’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t answer it,” Marsha laughed. The doorbell beeped again. “COME IN!” Elizabeth yelled before Marsha could slap her hand over her mouth again. The door open and Trip stepped in. “Ensign Cut…l…er…” Trip watched the four women trying to stand at attention but at least three of them had cotton balls between their half painted toes and Marsha was laughing so hard that she couldn’t gain composure for a proper stance. “I’m interrupting,” Trip said as he began backing toward the door, “I’ll go.” “No, sir. Whatever it is, I can—” Elizabeth started. “No you can’t. You’re dead,” Marsha laughed, falling onto her bunk. Trip looked back at Elizabeth. She was struggling to contain her laughter. “It can wait. We’ll talk tomorrow. No rush.” Trip stepped out of the quarters, hearing the four women start howling with laughter and one say, “Speak of the devil!” Trip stood in the hall, staring at the closed door. He grinned, half wishing he knew what they had been saying about him before the door opened. However, he decided being caught in a small room with four women wearing make-up, skimpy clothes, and who were probably talking about things better left unsaid, would probably be disastrous to his reputation. Instead he headed to the recreation room. Trip walked in and spotted Archer sitting in a chair beside the basketball court. Trip walked up to Archer, watching him look up. “Done?” Archer asked. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” “I need to get that zoology report sent to Starfleet, Trip. What happened? Didn’t Ensign Cutler have it done? She was supposed to have had it done yesterday.” “I didn’t ask,” Trip said. “Why?” Trip blushed. “Because there were four women wearing a little clothes, putting on war paint, and gossiping and there are some places men just don’t belong, Cap’n.” Archer smiled. “You’re right. There are.” Archer stood up and began to dribble the basketball. He looked up at Trip. “War paint, huh?” “Red lipstick, orange nail polish and they probably would have been dancing on the bar of a bar by the end of the night if we had one.” Archer laughed. He started dribbling the ball toward the court. Suddenly he took off running toward the hoop, jumped and slam-dunked the ball. “HEY!” Trip yelled, running onto the court to block Archer’s next attempt to make a basket. |
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