Ensign Roy Bancroft - Somewhere Between Betrayal and Admiration
Carter Schimpff
(( Deck 7, USS Artemis-A ))
Bancroft: ::candidly:: You know, I used to feel incredible after a run – especially a hard one like that. Clear-headed, calm, even a little euphoric. Lately… I’m lucky if I just feel a little more like myself.
Before Commander Munro could so much as open her mouth, Lieutenant Junior Grade Yesfir Meyers materialized – not so much walking into frame as manifesting, as if conjured from a cloud of bats and green sparks.
Naturally.
The day, it seemed, had upgraded itself from passive nuisance to active co-conspirator in the slow unraveling of his sanity.
Meyers: ::neutral expression:: Sounds like something you should get looked at, Ensign. Perhaps a medical checkup is in order? ::to Munro:: Good morning, Commander Munro. Lieutenant Junior Grade Yesfir Meyers. It’s good to meet you.
Roy assumed “good to meet you” was some kind of automated script running on one of Meyers’ subprocessors – something pre-programmed, the way a computer might cycle a compression tank pump. From what he knew of her, she didn’t seem to find it ‘good’ to meet anyone.
Munro: Likewise, Lieutenant :: to Bancroft :: I have to agree with Lt Meyers doctor. I want you fit for our run tomorrow.
Roy pushed up from the deck with the kind of theatrical energy usually reserved for court-martial proceedings. He almost gave Munro some side-eye – but restrained himself.
He didn’t know her well enough to say for sure, but if he were a betting man, he’d put good latinum on the idea that she was screwing with him.
Casually. Artfully.
Professionally.
Bancroft: ::brightly:: Of course, Commander. Wouldn’t dare jeopardize my readiness for another ‘Munro Special’. ::lower, mostly to himself:: Perfect timing, really. If anyone’s going to overhear a moment of introspective self-reflection, I’m lucky it’s someone so... unsentimentally precise.
Meyers: Hear what?
Roy decided that he hadn’t heard the question. Or, more accurately, that it had obviously been directed at Commander Munro and therefore didn’t require his participation.
To sell the illusion, he began picking at a non-existent speck of lint on his running shirt.
Munro: Lieutenant, wouldn't you agree that regular exercise is good for any Starfleet officer?
Bancroft: ::pleasantly, to Munro:: Couldn’t agree more. In fact, there’s evidence it can reduce irritability and improve one’s understanding of social nuance. ::beat:: Though I suppose results may vary. ::casually:: you a runner, Lieutenant Meyers?
Lieutenant Meyers raised an eyebrow – the kind of gesture that might suggest suspicion, had it come from a being more psychologically capable of feeling things.
Had he been too obvious? Roy made a mental note to dial it back next time. Just a notch.
… maybe a half-notch.
Meyers: Just a morning walk. Routine physical exercise, even something as simple as a walk, has significant health benefits: improved cardiovascular health, balancing blood sugar levels, increased sleep quality... Though I wouldn’t recommend overexherting oneself ::checks chronometer:: 28 minutes before the beginning of your shift.
Ava raised her eyebrows at Bancroft, then shrugged.
Munro: She has a point :: playfully :: Time management is important, Ensign. I doubt your patients want you dropping sweat all over them.
Ah. Thank you, Commander. So magnanimous. So diplomatic.
He thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward as she finished the sentence – and there was definitely a twinkle in her eye. Which, frankly, felt unfair. If this was more hazing, it was being carried out with far too much charm.
Bancroft: ::to Munro, mildly:: Point taken, ma’am. Though in my experience, patients tend to tolerate a little sweat – even prefer it – over that creeping unease they get when a doctor’s bedside manner registers just shy of algorithmic. ::glancing at the ceiling, polite and detached:: But of course, some find comfort in that kind of predictability.
Meyers: Response
There was a pause – not quite awkward, but definitely flavored with potential.
Commander Munro pressed her lips together in a way that technically counted as a neutral expression, but gave the distinct impression that she was very close to laughing.
Roy clocked the minute shift in her posture, the subtle glint in her eye – and filed it away for some future, entirely harmless mischief.
Munro: I'm going to leave you both to it :: to Bancroft :: Tomorrow morning, I'll send you the starting point. Bring your A game, I expect you to keep up.
Bancroft: ::grinning to Munro, with a nod:: Wouldn’t miss it, Commander. I’ll be there bright-eyed and ready for another round of 'don't have a cardiac event in front of the XO.' ::glancing at an innocent support pillar:: And if I do start to fade, I’m sure something will manifest – perhaps from a malevolent vortex of antiseptic and judgment – to keep me on my toes.
Meyers: Response
Munro: :: to Meyers :: Make sure he gets a thorough examination, Lieutenant :: to Bancroft :: You can thank me later.
Munro let out a small giggle – light, almost musical – as she turned on her heel and sauntered away, the very picture of innocent delegation.
Actually, she didn’t so much walk off as skip.
She’d just pulled the pin from a metaphorical grenade and rolled it to a stop at Roy’s feet – with the sort of charm that made people thank her for it.
Roy watched her go with a look that fell somewhere between betrayal and admiration.
Bancroft: ::to Munro’s retreating form, eyes boring into her back:: Thank you, Commander. ::to Meyers, tone neutral, wide, fake smile:: Lieutenant. I’ll be sure to arrive early for my examination – wouldn’t want to miss the... trademark efficiency, fluorescent ambiance, and that famous ‘pleasant-as-you-are’ bedside manner.
Meyers: Response
TAG/End of Scene for Bancroft!
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Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1