Just A Boy, A Girl and a Comms Array, Nothing To See Here

Posted on Sat Nov 5th, 2022 @ 8:10pm by Ensign Casey Dekker & Lieutenant JG Stanislav Finch

1,079 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Song Of Silver Wings
Location: Primary Comms Array | USS Daedalus
Timeline: Near Launch

By now Finch had made himself at home on the Daedalus and had introductions with most of the senior staff. His antisocial perversions made relationships difficult, but fortunately his shrewd intellect compensated in the form of shenanigans. And in his experience, all of the best shenanigans could benefit from backdoor access to a starship's communications.

Wandering nonchalantly, Finch ducked into the comms array and made a quick assessment of who is there. No one in sight. Perfect! He chuckled to himself and began to a quiet sing-song to serenade his activities.

"We're in the House of Finch, the House of Finch! Fuckin' shit up in the House of Finch!"

Walking quietly back into comms, milkshake in a sippy cup in one hand, Casey caught that siren song before she saw him. She'd heard about Finch - obviously this was him given the stupid song the man was singing - and she really wasn't in the mood to go through any variation of conversations she'd heard about on the Daedalus grapevine.

An ankle tap from behind followed through to sweep Finch's left leg out from under him and Casey placed her booted foot hard on whichever part of his anatomy happened to be closest as he landed.

"Less of the fucking shit up," she told him. "And a lot more of the fucking right off."

"If more fucking off is what you want, then you have come to the right place." Finch grinned as though he was not flat on his back with a woman's boot on his chest--or, perhaps, directly because of the fact. "Just tell Daddy Finch how you like it."

Oh this one was everything they'd told her he could be, wasn't he? Casey grinned - an expression better suited to a lioness in possession of a chewtoy and canted her head to the side as if sizing up which limb she intended to tear from which first.

"'Daddy Finch' usually get what he's chasing?" Casey asked, not removing said boot. "Cos I'm thinking you're gonna struggle getting an inflatable girlfriend to show up. What are you doing in comms?" She questioned more seriously, driving the footwear a little deeper against that ribcage.

Finch let out a shrill squeak as the air evacuated his lungs. "My diaphragm!" he squeaked. "If you're gonna suffocate me..." he tried to gasp for air but got little for his effort. "...at least tickle my balls."

Casey eased up on the foot pressure and allowed Finch to draw a proper breath. "I think you're after the holodeck," she suggested, tone more amused than offended. "Comms doesn't cater for the same fetishes, but you know they record that stuff somewhere, right? Goes on our file." There was a flash of a smile. "Course you do, you're one of Them."

"Yeah, baby," Finch said. "If you ever want a vid clip of anyone on board in the shower, just let me know." He flicked a wrist-mounted device up at Casey which let out a bright flash. "Sorry about that. Just saving this POV for future... posterity." He waggled his eyebrows luridly to match his grin. "The light just helps trigger your O-Face. I find it... helps me."

For a second or three Casey's face remained enigmatic and thoughtful as she considered the 'anyone in the shower offer' then it shifted briefly to a more predatory grin that swiftly vanished about the same time as the flash. Or so she hoped as Finch 'apologised'. The boot pressure reapplied, but she didn't make a grab for the device. "I'll take that as a compliment," Casey shot back. "A free pass for your wanking chariot." It wasn't as if he couldn't just use the holodeck. "But if I find you've set up anything monitoring my quarters?" she pushed until she heard the squeak again. "Expect payback you won't like."

"Baby, if you're going to make me taste any more of your leather I might need a change of pants." Finch actually giggled with glee.

Casey relented, the giggling hitting a nerve she didn't need rattled, and lifted her boot from his chest. She even reached out a hand to help the LT up from the floor, making a point to grab the wrist with the device wrapped about it."Tell me you haven't pissed yourself?" She asked, knowing full well what he'd really been referring to. "And what exactly you're doing in here?"

"Nope! You're an ensign and I'm a lieutenant, so that's a secret!" He grinned and put his finger to his mouth in a shushing motion. "But since you were so kind as to assault me and give me cause to reprimand you for striking a superior officer, the least I can do is have you for dinner..." His eyes leered lasciviously. "... and dessert."

Crap. She bit her lip and scowled, an obvious tell that he'd made a good point that Casey didn't like one bit. Rank. "Assault?" She pushed back, one brow raised in query. "You were in here chanting about fucking up the communications array, if I recall." He had no proof, right? "Legitimate risk to security and vital systems. Grounds for a soft takedown. You're lucky I didn't stun you."

Finch gave a wicked cackle. "Oh please. You thought you heard me singing about fucking up the communications array so you put me on the ground? Are you hearing as you're talking how crazy you sound? Fortunately for me, I am the one with digital forensic evidence in my favor, but fortunately for you, I am in a forgiving mood." He grinned even wider. "Now we can finish this over dinner or over formal charges. I'll leave that up to you." He brushed himself off and pressed a button on the console.

"Synchronization complete," said the computer interface. No harm, no foul.

"Wear something with bows and maybe I'll introduce you to someone special," Finch said, wiggling his fingers in a toodaloo fashion on his way out the door. "See you tonight or see you in the funny papers."

Well, fuck... she thought, unwilling to put any more words out there for him to record. Should have maybe considered that option, but hey, these were early days dealing with clearly intelligent, socially inept, high functioning assholes.

"Dinner sounds great," said Casey, through gritted teeth. "See you tonight."

Maybe with back-up though, and definitely, one hundred percent NOT with any bows on.

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