::draws to halt a few paces away from the main entrance to Starfleet's hub, cocking head to take in building...and remember last occasion for visiting::

::tamps down glare of disgusted indignation with profound effort, tugging at uniform jacket one last time before heading in::

::winces as irony of gesture strikes::

I don't see why we couldn't ( Read more... )

::dips butter knife into sauce, plopping a generous portion on napkin and using it doodle::

::nods again in a less than enthusiastic pretense of attention as twin's latest outraged rant hits crescendo, eyes scanning room for some diversion, any diversion::

::just about bounces with joy as Neelix's latest victims wander in::

::lifts hand quickly in ( Read more... )

::relaxes when doors slide shut, shutting out the latest in a long string of secretaries...for reason's beyond the Admiral, the turnover rate is high ( Read more... )

::clambers up last few steps of maintenance ladder, accepting the hand of a nearby engineer to crawl out ( Read more... )

::puts finishing touches on follow-up report to session with ltcmdrtomparis, with a more than slight sigh of relief...honestly, it's worse than poking around in the head of a Riker::shakes foggy thoughts back to order, glancing at half-screened windows of transit quarters and dimming sunlight coming through ( Read more... )

::halts outside mess doors, checking wrist chronometer...might just beat the Borg::

::steps in, scanning room and finding target...plus two::

::or not::

::sighs, strolling on by counter and grabbing a plate from Chell's beefy blue hand...minus dessert::

::tries not to look at it until seated...there's just no telling::

Harry, I need something.

::turns antique paperweight in hand, momentarily surprised when floodlights come to life outside, glinting off of crystalline figurine::

::squints toward window, making mental note to request more maintenance...fully tinted, this time::

::sits paperweight down with a concise thud, reaching over instead to intercom::

Lydia...

::briefly struggles to ( Read more... )

::pulls last of pins from hair, shaking it loose and settling on a quick hand brush...in no mood to pull knots::

::grabs shunned uniform jacket from floor, tossing it into recycler::

::viciously suppresses soft smile as something that sounds suspiciously like koochie-koo drifts from living area ( Read more... )

::carefully dumps heavily marinated replicated chicken into pan, adding another sprinking of replicated oregano for merit ( Read more... )

::steps into mess, sliding padd into pocket on the way...some people look for excuses to overwork, and following the Captain's lead is a decent one ( Read more... )