into his head, he had no idea. Blinking, Larry realized that the one-sided explanation sounded like the excuse of some spoiled kid in high school. Then the sudden memory flash of an earlier conversation with a fellow officer on the Vincent stopped him cold. There had been a subtle mention of Carruther's unacceptable attitude along with a run-in she had with a former commanding officer. Troubled, Larry stared at her now, wishing he could recall the details. With a flash of self-anger that he'd ignored it at the time, he made a mental note to check out what trouble lurked in her past.
Her voiced dislike of the captain was a problem. So was stirring up trouble. And, from the expressions on her crewmember's faces, that's exactly what she'd been doing. Allowing a sigh of frustration to escape, he realized this conversation was going nowhere. He slipped out of the seat and paused while frowning, openly displaying his disappointment at her childish behavior.
The impulsive, quick move to jump from her seat earned nothing but a stern hand waving her back down. “Gail, I'm not your enemy. I'd appreciate it if you just leveled with me. Frankly, your attitude needs to change. You sound like a whiny high school kid with a chip on her shoulder."
Gail didn't respond.
All right, if that was the way she wanted things. He tried just once more. “If you need to talk, I'm here to listen."
He waited a few unresponsive seconds before turning and leaving; he did not miss the open defiance in her disregard for protocol. Once again, she remained seated when he stood. Sighing, hyper-aware of the dark cloud this girl carried overhead, he wondered why he had never sensed it before. Running a hand over the coarse hair at the side of his head, he noticed the few curious stares from some of the lingering personnel. Ignoring them, he stepped out into the passageway, acknowledging that he could no longer dismiss Gail's behavior.
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Chapter Seven
As promised, Eric returned to sickbay later that evening. The change in Abby was like salt and pepper, like ketchup and mustard. Now she greeted him by glaring daggers from the bed she sat on. Confused, he shot a quick look over to the doctor standing at the counter by the door, papers in hand. Larry simply shrugged his shoulders in reply. Popping the pen back into the tan shirt pocket, he approached Eric before he could move any closer to Abby, eyebrows raised in a mock gesture of resignation.
"How long has she been like that?"
"Since I got back."
"What's going on, what happened?"
"Uh ... I thought you could tell me."
Eric glanced over at Abby then back at the doctor, and shrugged.
"I presume your talk didn't go well."
"I thought it went pretty good, all things considered. She wasn't mad when I left.” Eric crossed his arms and shook his head. “Just what the hell happened in the interim?"
"No idea.” Larry patted Eric on the shoulder as he started past him. “Maybe you can find out. I need to go check on some supplies I ordered."
Eric acknowledged with a wry quirk of his lips the doctor's lame excuse to leave. “Go then. I'll talk to her."
Abby virtually glowed with anger, a slow steady boil ready to erupt. The dazzling blue eyes were blazing; her crossed arms appeared to tighten as they balanced stiffly on the protruding belly. There was an air of unpredictability and Eric realized in that moment if she had had something handy to throw, it most likely would have hit him by now. Wary, he lowered himself into the chair beside the bed. “What's going on, Abby?"
A mirage of emotions played on her face as she blinked back tears that now swelled in her eyes. She swallowed, her lips quivering. “Just when were you going to tell me about the guard at the door? You obviously don't trust me. What did I do...?” The tears refused to be restrained. They burst from her eyes and flowed down her cheeks as she clapped shaky hands over her mouth.
Stunned by the accusation,
Kristin Billerbeck
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Kate Breslin
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Racquel Reck