Chip listened to Lt. Chris James practically babbling apology after apology until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Lieutenant,” he ordered in his best XO voice, “sit down, shut up, and listen to me.” He wasn’t exactly sure how the young man managed to come to Attention sitting in the sand, but the fact that he pulled it off almost put a smile on Chip’s face. Almost. Chip’s head hurt too much to totally calm down. But his voice was more under control as he continued. “Despite what you’re no doubt thinking I will tell you exactly how the next bit of time is going to go. NIMR got our call and Seaview will be here as fast as they can pull a short crew together – call it three hours tops. Admiral Nelson will bluster for half an hour that we broke his toy and threaten to dock our pay for the next year to cover the repairs. I’ll remind him about all the times Lee has damaged FS1 without having to pay for it, Nelson will chuckle, and that will be the end of that conversation.”
Chris
started to speak but Chip stopped him and continued. “Jamie will get in our faces, drag us both
down to Sick Bay, and we’ll spend the next hour explaining that we’re both just
fine. Which he won’t believe so then
we’ll spend another couple of hours letting him poke, prod, and run tests, at
which point, if we’re lucky, he’ll surrender and let us both go.”
Once
more Chris started to speak and once more Chip cut him off. “And then we come to Lee.” He sighed heavily. “For the next two weeks, at least, we’ll have
to listen to him laughing his six off.”
He sent Chris a look of pure misery.
“And that’s the worst of the lot.”
He sent the young lieutenant half a grin. “Think you can handle all of that?”
“You’re
serious, sir? I mean,” he hurried on as
he realized what he’d said, “I’m not going to get fired? I mean,” he started to go back to his earlier
babbling, “I almost got you killed. I…”
“Lieutenant,”
Chip shouted to drown him out. “Chill,”
he ordered before an almost-smile hit his face.
“We’re both alive. At least until
Jamie gets his hands on us,” he added, and then shuddered. “FS1 can be repaired. You won’t be sent back to the regular Navy
with a disciplinary record in your Jacket.”
He sent Chris another small grin.
“I promise.” But he still wasn’t
sure the young lieutenant believed him.
“I’m
really sorry about the duck, sir.”
Chip
tried very hard not to laugh. The one
irreversible casualty of the two men’s misadventure had been a Ruddy Duck on
the beach where the two men now sat.
“Somehow, Chris, I think the world won’t miss one small duck too
badly.” He did finally chuckle softly. “Especially one that wasn’t smart enough to
get out of the way.”
The
day had started out fine. Seaview was in
port for just over two weeks and most of the crew had been given an extended
Leave. For once Lee and Chip didn’t have
a two-foot-high mound of reports on their desks to deal with and had spent the
first week with Chip’s sister and her family just north of San Francisco. Chip had teased Lee about continuing north to
visit his lady friend in Portland, Oregon.
But Lee had merely shrugged and told him shyly that he’d already
checked, and Becca was back east attending a conference. Once back to work there was still paperwork to
catch up on but Lee had suggested that, since Chris James had reported back
from his Leave that morning, now might be a good time to start teaching the
younger man how to pilot FS1. The little
craft was being used more and more, and both Admiral Nelson and Lee thought
that it would be wise to teach a few more of the crew how to operate what Lee
tended to refer to as ‘Seaview’s bright yellow offspring.’
Chris
had at first been hesitant. He was well
aware of the affinity his CO, Cdr. Crane, had for the small craft and wasn’t
sure that he had the ability to handle her.
But both Lee and Chip convinced him that he’d do fine once he learned
her eccentricities. They’d take it slow,
not push him past where he was comfortable.
And Chris, happy that they had so much confidence in him, accepted the
added training.
His
confidence grew as Chip spent the first hour getting him familiar with FS1’s
instrumentation and Chris realized how much of it was similar to Seaview’s,
which he was already extremely familiar with.
The actual controls were obviously different but even there they still
weren’t anything Chris didn’t quickly get comfortable with. Chip sent him a grin, showed him how to
adjust his safety harness, and walked Chris through launching the little craft
from under Seaview’s nose. He kept his
own hands on his set of controls but talked Chris through the maneuver, and in
fact barely had to move a muscle so quickly was Chris picking up on things.
For
that first hour they just ‘played’ around in the channel, letting Chris get
comfortable with moving FS1 in whatever direction Chip chose to specify. His first attempt at docking wasn’t a
spectacular success but Chip assured him that his own first attempt hadn’t been
any better. They spent another half an
hour launching and docking, and by the fourth time even Chris was happy at how
smooth he was managing it.
The
pair took a break and ate lunch an early with Lee in NIMR’s cafeteria. Chris was a little embarrassed as Chip
bragged about how easily Chris was picking up the new lessons. Then he sat back and stayed out of the
conversation as the two long-time friends ended up harassing each other about
who was the better trainer, Lee or Chip.
Happily Chris had served with both long enough to be totally entertained
by the bantering, not bothered by it. In
fact, it was all he could do to keep from laughing his head off – a fact that
was finally picked up by the other two and they settled down – mostly. Chip was so pleased with Chris – well, Chris
suspected that he was mostly pleased with himself and wanted to get in another
dig at Lee – that instead of calling an end to the training for the day he
‘volunteered’ Chris for another round of lessons that afternoon. Lee did send a pointed eyebrow Chris’
way. But the younger man was feeling
rather proud of himself as well and easily went along with the plan.
For
the first hour all went well. Chip took
Chris out into open water and ran him through a long series of underwater
maneuvers in the greater depths, where Chris had to depend more on
instrumentation than what he could see out the little craft’s front
window. Again, Chris mastered the
controls with such ease that when Chip suggested they launch for a short flight
Chris had only a moment’s hesitation.
That
part of the training didn’t quite go as planned. Chip actually did the initial launch, with
Chris merely keeping his own hands lightly on the controls while watching and
listening intently to Chip’s instructions.
Once steady flight was established, Chip let Chris take more and more
control until the younger man was flying pretty much on his own. They didn’t go all that high, and just far
enough out over the ocean to be away from commercial flight paths, as Chip once
more walked Chris through a series of position and altitude changes. Chris did have a bit more trouble – FS1 was a
good deal more sensitive to controls in the air than she was under water. But he was getting a fair handle on things.
Until
the wind sheer! It was such a clear calm
day, and Chris was doing such a good job, that Chip had relaxed and let his
hands move to his lap, away from his set of control sticks. The totally unexpected sheer caught both men
by surprise. Chris didn’t exactly panic,
but still over-corrected the sensitive joysticks sending FS1 into a spiraling
dive. Chip tried to regain control but
still didn’t quite manage it before FS1 smacked the water way too fast and at a
bad angle.
Both
men were momentarily stunned. Chris’
harness held him firmly in the pilot’s chair.
He was going to have some rather spectacular bruises where the belts
came across his upper body but other than that he was safe. Chip’s harness unfortunately suffered a
partial malfunction, allowing his body to fall forward and sideways and his
head to bounce off the edge of the control panel. Chris’ senses were momentarily overwhelmed;
his immediate concern was for his XO and he didn’t realize FS1’s engines were
still engaged for just long enough to plough the craft onto a small beach on
San Miguel Island, the most western of the Channel Islands that they’d been
flying near when the accident happened.
The sudden stop had caused further insult to injury – literally. Chip had been trying to pick himself up when
he was once more tossed forward into the instrumentation.
The
collision with land did have one positive effect – it shocked Chris into
action. He quickly hit the master switch
he’d been shown to cut power and hurried out of his harness. Chip was muttering words Chris was trying
desperately not to understand while struggling once more to stand
up. He hadn’t quite made it yet when
Chris reached him and helped him to sit once more in the co-pilot’s chair. Chris started to reach for a first-aid kit
before realizing that he had no idea where it was stowed, but Chip cut him off
before he could ask by reaching for his throat mic.
“FS1
to NIMR,” went out hesitantly.
Chris
stopped dead. Geez, dipstick, you should have thought of that, he
chastised himself silently.
“NIMR
here,” came immediately from one of the men working in the Institute’s
Communication Center.
“Small
problem,” Chip continued. “We’re
grounded at coordinates…” Chris saw him
trying to read the instrument panel, shake his head briefly as if to clear his
vision, and he quickly took the couple of steps necessary to read the dial and
call them out. Chip closed his eyes as
he repeated them over the radio. “We’re
going to need pick-up and the easiest way is to send Seaview – she’ll only need
a skeleton crew but the Magnetic Retrieval System is probably the best way to
get FS1 off the beach and back home.”
“Beach,
sir?” came back in a puzzled voice.
“Beach,”
Chip practically growled, gave himself a small shake, and continued more under
control. “Just do it, Parquer. I’ll explain later.”
“Roger,
FS1. I’ll notify the Admiral and Cdr.
Crane immediately.”
“Terrific,”
Chip did growl, albeit softly. “The
Admiral’s back from his meetings.”
“Sir? Didn’t quite catch that,” came over the
radio.
“Never
mind, Parquer.”
“Aye,
sir. NIMR out.”
“First-aid
kit?” Chris asked somewhat hesitantly.
Chip
sent him an ever so quick glare, but then merely frowned. “Bottom cabinet, bunk side of the aft
hatch.” He stayed quiet while Chris
cleaned up a small cut just over his right eye and put a butterfly bandage over
it, then the pair exited FS1 out the upper hatch to make sure she was secure
until Seaview could reach her.
That’s
when they discovered what was left of the duck, along with thirty or so of its
relatives, all of which had sense enough to move when their beach got invaded
and were now warily studying the invaders.
That’s also when Chris started in apologizing. Chip had given a few half-hearted “It’s all
right” comments as he settled into the sand above the high tide line. Unfortunately Chris hadn’t been able to stop
himself, which finally led to Chip’s outburst.
The young lieutenant looked so utterly miserable that Chip finally took
pity on him. “Did anyone ever tell you
what happened when we tried to teach Riley how to fly FS1?” he asked with a
half-grin, half grimace.
“No,
sir,” Chris answered carefully. “I
didn’t know he knew how to pilot her.”
“He
doesn’t,” Chip growled with a frown, before the previous expression made a
comeback. “We got to pretty much the
same point, but before I could stop him he tried to see if he could make her
surf a couple of big waves.” Chris
looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“Yeah,” and Chip finally grinned.
“Actually, he wasn’t doing a bad job.”
It
took Chris a few seconds to decide if his XO was pulling his leg. “He didn’t…”
and his voice trailed off.
Chip
did finally grin. “I pulled FS1 back
into the air and refused to ever let him touch the controls again,” came out
strongly despite the grin. “You, on the
other hand, will get your next lesson just as soon as FS1 is once more
flight-worthy,” and he reached out and patted Chris’ shoulder.
“I
doubt that,” Chris mumbled softly.
Chip’s
grin spread. “I know because I did
almost exactly the same thing on my first flight.” Chris could only stare at his XO. “That’s how come I didn’t bother seeing what
was wrong with her and just called for pick-up.” He shook his head carefully. “Been there, done that,” he said almost
sadly.
“Who…” Chris wasn’t sure that he wanted to know who
Chip had been flying with.
“Lee,”
Chip answered. “That’s how I know he’ll
laugh his ashcan off !”
* *
* *
Chip’s
predictions proved to be only slightly off.
Seaview surfaced right on schedule almost exactly three hours later. Chip had spent the time nursing an
ever-growing headache. Chris stayed out
of his way and pretended to talk to the ducks, who seemed rather enamored of
the young lieutenant once they got over their immediate fright. One of Seaview’s zodiacs was launched and
while COB Sharkey and Seaman Macklin went aboard FS1, Seaman Patterson ferried
his two officers back to the boat.
Admiral
Nelson proved the person who upset Chip’s predictions the most. Apparently Lee’s constant chuckles on the way
over had gotten to him and all he told Chris was, that in the future he might
not want to so closely emulate his XO, to which both Chip and Chris agreed with
lowered heads.
Will,
on the other hand, proved right on target.
He barely let the men stay in the Conn long enough to make sure that the
MRS would safely bring FS1 back aboard before demanding that they both report
to Sick Bay. Chris was released fairly
quickly, with only an order to report to Med Bay the following morning to make
sure there wasn’t damage beyond what Doc could see at the moment from the
harness bruising.
Chip
didn’t fare so well. Chip insisted that
all he needed was a good night’s sleep and he’d be fine. Will didn’t totally disagree but he demanded
that that prescription be administered in NIMR’s Med Bay. Lee was no help at all – by the time Will had
finished his exams of the two men Seaview was safely back at her dock and Lee
came down to escort a grumpy Chip to NIMR’s medical facility, getting his
revenge for all the times the roles had been reversed and it was Chip dragging
a grumpy Lee that direction.
Lee’s
continued snickers finally broke through Chip’s disgust and his long-time
friend walked Chip through the incident.
Lee’s main concern was why Chip’s harness had malfunctioned and promised
that would be COB Sharkey’s priority while Macklin, head of Seaview’s DC team
and one of the men most familiar with FS1, handled the repairs. “At least he shouldn’t have any trouble
finding the problems,” Chip muttered dryly, “since it’s probably the same ones
from my first flight.” That caused Lee’s
chuckles to return just as Will walked into the room.
“Chris?”
Lee asked. He’d had the preliminary
report but that had been in front of the young lieutenant and Lee knew the
doctor might edit anything that could further embarrass the man in front of his
superior officers.
“The
only thing he hurt is his pride,” Will confirmed, before he sent a puzzled look
at Chip. “And something about a
duck?” He shook his head. “He said it so low I didn’t catch the entire
story, and he seemed so ashamed that I didn’t ask him to repeat it.”
“The
beach where we came to rest was occupied by a flock of Ruddy Ducks. One of them was too stupid to get out of the
way.”
“Natural
selection,” Lee added with a grin.
“Well, sort of natural. Weed out
the unhealthy ones before they can breed.”
Will
just shook his head before turning once more to Chip. “How’s your head?”
“Pounding
nicely,” Chip growled. “But doesn’t seem
to be getting any worse.”
Will
looked at Lee. “Do I dare believe him?”
Ignoring
the instant glare that got from the blond, Lee shrugged. “He remembers everything that happened and
hasn’t been slurring words or hesitating during a sentence,” Lee confirmed.
“And
you, of course,” Chip all but snarled, the glare increasing, “are completely
familiar with the diagnosis, having suffered a concussion so many times.” Even Will had to chuckle as Lee hung his head
ever so slightly.
“Suppose
you go do whatever it is you do,” Will told Lee, taking back control of the conversation. “Janet will be bringing Chip his meds in a
few minutes and with any luck we’ll all have a peaceful evening.” Chip’s glare transferred to the doctor but
Lee chuckled, nodded, and left.
“So,
how badly is FS1 damaged?” Will asked as he settled the blanket a little more
snuggly around the blond. “I didn’t
hear.”
Chip
frowned, but it was mostly sheepish.
“Knocked the engines off line when it hit the sand. A couple hours to clean them out and she will
be good as new.” He sent Will a pretty
good rendition of Lee’s ‘through-the-lashes’ look. “Same thing I did to her my first flight.”
Will
chuckled. “But I don’t remember Lee
getting hurt.”
“His
safety harness didn’t break,” Chip snarled.
Will
nodded. “I saw Sharkey hand it to
Admiral Nelson just as I was leaving the boat earlier.” He gave Chip’s leg a pat. “Rest.
Don’t harass the nurses,” he ordered, grinned again, and left.
Chip
wasn’t in so much pain that he didn’t flirt with the nurse when she arrived
about twenty minutes later with both his dinner and the ordered
medication. But the headache kept it
fairly low key. He was perfectly aware
that what he needed was to sleep off the effects of the mild concussion he’d
received. He just would have preferred
it to be in his own bed. He figured that
Lee would show up again before he left for the day and tried to stay
awake. But whatever drug Jamie had
ordered had other ideas, and he’d barely finished the light meal before he
could no longer keep his eyes open.
* *
* *
Lee
had every intention of dropping in to see Chip before he headed home but
circumstances somewhat beyond his control intervened. First, Admiral Nelson called him into his
office. No longer grinning, the OOM was
instead glaring at the safety harness in his hands. Lee didn’t even get the office door shut
before Nelson practically shoved the straps into Lee’s face. “We just had these replaced a couple months
ago, when Sharkey noticed that the ones in the bell were looking a little worn. And look – the stitching in the main buckle
looks like it practically fell apart.”
Lee
was used to how Nelson blustered at times and didn’t take it personally. “So, we don’t use that company again,” he
responded calmly.
“Harrumph,”
Nelson muttered loudly, still with a glare.
“I’ll
pull the order from Chip’s file. I
suspect that he’ll have a thing or three to say to their rep.” He grinned.
“And knowing my Exec, probably get a full refund for the entire order.”
At
that Nelson finally relaxed. “Speaking
of whom…”
“Incarcerated
in a private room in Med Bay and probably already driving Jamie fruiters.” Both men grinned.
But
Lee’s turned into a frown when Nelson told him, “Will’s had enough experience
with you, Chip doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Harrumph,”
it was Lee’s turn to mutter, albeit softly, and Nelson’s grin grew. “I figured that I’d drop by before I head
home,” Lee continued. “This,” he held up
the harness, “will give him something to think about besides escaping.”
“Or
just make him want to get out faster to start screaming about the shoddy
stitching?” Nelson asked. “Ahh…”
Lee
nodded. “Good thought,” he agreed. “I’ll leave that for tomorrow.”
“He’ll
for sure be out by then?”
“If
he isn’t I don’t hold out much hope for Jamie’s eardrums,” Lee told him with a
smile. “But Chris said that as far as he
knows Chip never lost consciousness. And
Chip seemed to remember the whole episode.
You know how, sometimes you don’t totally remember an accident later.”
“A
symptom I’m sure that you’re quite familiar with,” Nelson told him firmly.
“Yes,
sir,” Lee answered with a slightly lowered head.
Nelson
chuckled. “Well, just don’t be spending
all night there. We’ve got those budget
meetings tomorrow. I want your input
when it comes to possibly re-evaluating cruise charges when Seaview gets hired
out. Accounting seems to think we’re
under-charging, and even losing money on some cruises.”
Lee
nodded. “Chip and I kibitzed about that
one evening while we were up at his sister’s and we jotted down a few thoughts
on the subject. I just have to remember
where I put them,” he added.
Nelson
chuckled again but was interrupted by his intercom. “Sir, Chief Sharkey is looking for Cdr.
Crane,” came in his PA’s crisp clear voice.
Both
men stepped out into the reception area in front of Nelson’s office door. “Did he say what he wants?” Lee asked her.
“Something
to do with the repairs to FS1 was all he said,” Angie told him.
“I’m
surprised that he asked for me and didn’t go straight to you, sir,” Lee told
Nelson, realized how that had come out, and started to sputter an apology.
But
Nelson cut him off with a smile and a raised hand. “Me, too,” he told Lee, and all three
smiled. “Let’s go see what he wants.”
“And
then go home,” Angie ordered her boss firmly.
Nelson
sent her a glare but it was Lee who spoke, after a quick glance at his
watch. “Got a hot dinner date?” he
asked, discovering that it was nearly 1800 hours.
“As
a matter of fact…” she said with a smile.
“Understood,”
Nelson finally got a word in. All three
smiled again. The men headed for Seaview
as Angie started shutting down her computer.
COB
Sharkey hesitated ever so slightly when both Lee and Nelson appeared on the
dock aft of Seaview, where FS1 had been moved to facilitate repairs. The two shared a quick look and grin before
giving him their full attention. Sharkey
had some concerns about a couple of repairs that had nothing to do with that
afternoon’s misadventure – nothing major, just things that the mechanics
suggested should be given general maintenance or possibly swapped for new
parts. They spent about half an hour
going over the list with Macklin, all agreeing that this was a good time as
Seaview wouldn’t be going out for almost a week. Between Sharkey and Lee, they finally chased
Nelson towards home, although neither was taking bets if he’d actually make it
there without a stop or two at this lab or that.
Lee
got sidetracked when he went aboard Seaview to see if he’d taken the meeting
notes he’d told Nelson about to his cabin, and ended up going over several items
with the Maintenance crew when they discovered that he was there. He still hadn’t made it to his cabin when his
cell phone went off. “Crane,” he
answered briskly, his mind elsewhere and not bothering to check the caller ID.
“Sorry
to bother you at home, Skipper,” came in Will’s soft voice. “Sort of expected you to drop by before you
left.”
Lee
chuckled self-consciously as he realized that it was well past 1900 hours. “Actually, Jamie, I haven’t made it that far
yet. I’m still down on Seaview.” There was a snort over the line and Lee
grinned, then got serious. “Chip?”
“Down,
Skipper,” Will ordered before his voice softened again. “He’s just restless. You have a knack for calming him down and I’d
rather not overly medicate him tonight.”
“Understood,
Jamie. I’d planned on coming by, just…”
“One
thing leads to another. I know,
Skipper.”
“Be
there in a few,” Lee told him. He did
finish walking to his cabin but didn’t find what he was looking for after a
quick search, shrugged, and headed across the compound for Med Bay.
He instantly frowned as he entered the private room in Med Bay that he was usually assigned to when incarcerated – it had the best view across the grounds to Seaview’s berth with the ocean beyond. Chip wasn’t enjoying the view; his face had a slight sheen of moisture and while his eyes were partially open, Lee was pretty sure that Chip couldn’t see clearly as his body softly twitched and his head moved from side to side.
“Easy, Skipper,” came softly from behind him, and he turned and found Jamie. “He’ll be fine.” The doctor moved past Lee into the room as Lee continued to stand and stare. “We’ve been down this road before,” he told Lee as he laid a hand briefly on the blond’s forehead. “You know how sensitive Chip is to some drugs.”
“But…” Lee started, and finally walked over to the bed. His voice and expression turned firm. “You know now what he can and can’t take. You have flat orders…”
Will sighed heavily, then cut Lee off. “And everyone was following those orders, including me. Unfortunately someone forgot to tell the drug company.” Lee sent him a glare. Will refused to be goaded and sent his ticked off CO a small smile, trying to defuse the brunet. “The working theory at the moment, to be proved as soon as I get the test results back…” He sent Lee a frown of his own. “Trust me, Skipper, I’ve already had my own little temper tantrum.” He smiled again as Lee finally relaxed – sort of. “…is that the drug company, while not making changes to the drug itself, may have changed the preservative they use in the capsules when they formulated the generic version from the original.”
“And Chip has proved super-sensitive to certain preservatives,” Lee said quietly, and let out a long sigh of his own.
“Exactly,” Will agreed. “We’re running his blood work now. No one, including me, had any issue with substituting the generic. We do it all the time with no problems.”
Lee nodded and sent his CMO a little smile. “Leave it to Chip…”
Will nodded with a grin of his own. “He does keep me, and the rest of the staff, on our toes.” He reached out and resettled the blanket Chip’s restlessness was starting to dislodge. “Once the dosage works through his system in another few hours he should be fine, and another page of instructions will be added to his file.” The last came out in a bit of a growl and Lee sent him a sheepish grin. “In the meantime, while I hate to screw up your evening…”
Lee chuckled softly. “No problem, Jamie. You know that. Ah…” he sent the doctor a quick look, “could you scrounge me up a clipboard and some paper? I can’t find some notes Chip and I made for Admiral Nelson. I can spend the time recreating as many of them as I can remember.”
Will snorted. “Work, work, work. Is that all you ever think about?” Lee sent him one of his almost-patented through-the-lashes looks, glanced at Chip and then back at Will, and the doctor’s face broke into a grin. “Stupid question,” he admitted softly, and went in search of Lee’s requested items.
He returned just in time to see Lee pulling up the blanket that Chip had apparently once more dislodged. He saw Chip seem to mumble something; he assumed Lee responded, although the brunet’s back was to Will and no sound from either younger man reached as far as the door. “Skipper?” he asked softly, and finished walking up to the bed.
Lee was frowning. “He seems fixated on that blasted duck. If I had to guess, I’d say that we spend so much time helping preserve animal life, his subconscious is harassing him for being the cause of killing one.” He shook his head. “Even if it was just a dimwitted duck.” His expression softened as Will chuckled and handed Lee the clipboard and paper he’d scrounged up, as well as a couple pens. Will’s grin spread when Lee sheepishly tapped his empty shirt packet and accepted the pens he’d forgotten to ask for. “Thanks,” he told his CMO.
“You’re welcome,” Will responded. “Hopefully he,” he pointed to Chip, “will settle down and you can still make it to bed by midnight.” The last bit was once more said firmly. Lee sent him another sheepish look, along with a shrug. Will surrendered without argument – he wasn’t about to hold his breath given both Lee and Chip’s penchant for holding vigil when the other was sick or injured. He shook his head, chuckled softly, and left. He’d wander over from his on-base condo shortly before midnight; hopefully by that time Chip would have settled down and he could harass Lee if he was still there into going home.
Lee pulled a chair closer to the bed, where he could see out the windows but also be within range to reach out a hand to his XO – and the closest thing to a brother he had. That thought put a smile on his face and for the next half hour divided his time between talking softly over Chip’s mostly incoherent mumblings and trying to reproduce the list of suggestions he and Chip had put together the week before. Well, most of the ideas, anyway. Lee knew that the original notes would have required editing prior to being presented to the Accounting Department anyway. A fair portion of the items they had come up with had been after at least one too many beers and would no doubt not have gone over well with NIMR’s very no-nonsense accountants. On the other hand, he had a feeling that the Admiral would have appreciated at least a couple of them.
Chip’s ramblings weren’t helping his concentration. The blond was for sure fixated on the dead duck. Or, at least, on ducks in general. He’d be relatively quiet for several minutes and then would suddenly, without warning, mutter some stray thought loudly enough to startle Lee. Mostly, Lee couldn’t understand what Chip was saying beyond maybe a word or two. But the tone Chip used was pretty much his ‘XO on Duty, firmly in command’ voice, and Lee pondered what Chip was seeing in his slightly altered state.
Apparently the beach where FS1 ended up had stayed in the blond’s mind, Lee decided, when Chip muttered something about “stop talking, duck. I’m giving the orders here,” and it was all Lee could do to keep from laughing out loud. Then, a few minutes later there was a string of mumblings that Lee couldn’t make sense of, followed by a bit that sounded like “quit calling me Earthling, and I’m not edible, you…” and it went back to being undecipherable. Lee could only shake his head at that one. At one point Lee had to quickly reach out and keep Chip from kicking off the blanket. Or rather, kicking at ‘something’ as Lee translated Chip’s mumbles that time as “…nibbling my toes…” and again Lee had to keep from laughing.
One of the nurses came in every half hour to check on Chip and Lee got so used to them that he didn’t notice for several seconds, about 2315 hours, that approaching footsteps belonged, not to the nurse but Jamie until a hand landed gently on his shoulder. “It’s not midnight yet,” he told the doctor.
Will chuckled softly and moved over to the bed. “How’s he doing? Lisa said that he’s finally starting to relax.”
Lee nodded. “He hasn’t said anything about talking ducks nibbling his toes for the last forty-five minutes or so.” He sent Will a big grin.
“Maybe I’d better find a bed for you for the night,” Will grumbled. “Doesn’t sound like you’re safe to drive home.”
“Hey, they’re his ramblings,” Lee defended himself, “not mine.” Both men finally smiled. But Will did send Lee a rather pointed eyebrow, and Lee surrendered. “I pretty well have my notes in order. And Chip has been resting quietly for long enough, I guess you shouldn’t need restraints to keep him here the rest of the night.”
Will snorted softly. “Then go home – before I use them on you to make sure that you get some rest,” he ordered, but still with a smile.
“Aye, sir,” Lee agreed, using the small joke they shared, that Lee would ‘sir’ a man of lesser rank. He also smiled, and rose to leave.
“I’ll expect you by 0730 – he should be fit to haul down to the cafeteria for breakfast.” Both of Lee’s eyebrows went up. “Light duty, only,” Will ordered. “No more FS1 training. At least for a couple of days.”
“It will be a bit more than that before she’s ready, anyway.” His grin reappeared. “I know for a fact that he’s got half a dozen new reports on his desk to go over, and I plan on adding a few more before he gets that far.”
Both men chuckled and Lee left. Will did spend another few minutes checking his patient. But all seemed back under control and he finally headed for his own bed.
* * * *
“It’s about time,” Chip ordered as Lee ambled through the door to his room in Med Bay the following morning at 0720.
“Hey, it’s not even 0730 yet.” Lee got a slightly evil grin on his face. “I had to make a quick stop in my office and transfer about twenty reports to your desk so you’d have plenty to keep you occupied while you’re on light duty.”
Chip muttered a few things Lee purposely avoided listening too closely to. “Clothes!” That order came out loud and clear.
Lee laughed out loud as he handed Chip the small gym bag he was carrying, and Chip headed for the bathroom.
“Are your toes intact?” Lee called out as he heard the shower turn off barely five minutes later.
“What?” Chip poked his head out the partially open door and glared at Lee. “You know perfectly well that I didn’t hurt my feet.” Chip’s head disappeared.
“Yeah,” Lee called back just as Will walked into the room. “But last night you kept muttering that ducks were talking to you, and nibbling on your toes.” He sent the doctor a brilliant smile.
Chip’s head poked back out the door, this time the lower half covered with shaving cream. He sent Lee another blazing glare and started to say something, spotted Will, muttered something under his breath, and disappeared once again. Lee and Will both chuckled, and visited quietly until the bathroom door opened wide and Chip, now looking like their normally immaculate XO, joined them. Lee arched an eyebrow at him. “The only thing I remember about last night,” Chip grudgingly admitted, “is something vague about trying to get several thousand ducks to properly march in formation in the Yard at Annapolis.” Both Will and Lee burst out laughing.
Will got himself back under control first. “And you couldn’t manage it?” he asked. It was commonly acknowledged at NIMR that Chip could organize a herd of cats, given sufficient reason.
“Failed miserably,” Chip said bashfully before sending Lee another glare. “There was this one dark-feathered duck that kept getting out of line, and taking half the flock with him.”
“The female half?” Will asked innocently. Chip finally grinned as it was Lee’s turn to glare. That was another bit of inside joke at NIMR, and especially on Seaview, that Lee seemed to attract the female faction of any wildlife they ran into.
“Whatever,” Chip relented. “If I never see another duck – of any kind – it will be too soon.” All three men chuckled
“Breakfast?” Lee asked Chip, who looked at Will.
The doctor shooed them both out – he could count on Lee to keep Chip to as light a day as possible. He chuckled as he told himself that Lee shouldn’t have any trouble at all, given that he’d had lots of practice experiencing Chip doing it to him. On too many occasions, Will grumbled to himself. But his smile made an instant reappearance. “Those two,” he said quietly, and headed for his office.
The
pair in question made a beeline for NIMR’s Admin Building, and the cafeteria on
the ground floor. Chip headed for the
food but stopped when Lee, slightly behind him, burst out laughing. “What?” Chip demanded. Lee couldn’t stop laughing and merely pointed
toward the bulletin board where the day’s menu was posted. The lunch special was proclaimed in large
bold letters – Duck a l’Orange.