[JP] Samantha Richards & Ensign Roy Bancroft - What to Expect When You're Expecting the Unexpected Part 1
Carter Schimpff
(( Primary Sickbay - Deck 7, USS Artemis-A ))
Sickbay. That damn sickbay. For a ship that she hadn’t spent much time on yet, her life sure had changed a lot– and in this particular sickbay nonetheless. Frontier Day, finding out she was pregnant– with twins, and subsequently discovering that they were having a boy and a girl.
For all intents and purposes, this sickbay changed her life. There she found herself again, ready to have the babies checked on after a particularly tense mission.
As she walked in, ready to see Dr. Sadar, instead she saw a newer face. This one had a mustache. Doctor Bancroft. The one and only that wore a suit of Sam’s vomit recently. She grimaced a bit.
Richards: Hey there. ::Holding up her hands in surrender:: I come in peace and un-nauseated.
Bancroft: ::backing away two steps:: You say that like it’s supposed to reassure me. The replicator wouldn’t even recycle that uniform. I had to incinerate it.
She rolled her eyes but pushed on.
Richards: I even ate a vegetable. Just one. But it was a vegetable.
Bancroft: ::pursing his lips:: Right. ::mock updating his PADD:: Sam Richards, walking multivitamin. For clarity, ‘fried and dipped in ranch’ doesn’t count.
She raised her eyebrow at him with a curiosity painted across her face.
Richards: So… ::Awkwardly:: Roy. ::Her eyebrow arched:: Is that short for like, Royce or something?
Bancroft: ::clearly stalling:: No, but thank you for your optimism.
She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side.
Richards: You know, now I have to know what it’s short for. If you want to be a difficult doctor, ::smirking:: I can be a difficult patient. Give me 3 solid minutes, I can make myself throw up.
Roy cocked his head, studying her with mild amusement. Definitely going to be an interesting patient.
Bancroft: Now I do admire your persistence, Sam, but I won’t be revealing any state secrets this time. ::beat, grinning:: Is… there something I can help you with today? Aside from highly classified secrets. A tub of ice cream, perhaps, with some pickled cucumbers on the side?
Sam bit down on her bottom lip, in a vain attempt to stop herself from laughing.
Roy guided the redhead over to one of the semi-private examination biobeds and offered a hand as she climbed aboard — her balance not quite what it might’ve been a few months ago. Once she was settled, he snagged a PADD from the nearby tray of equipment.
Bancroft: I’ve got your medical records here, just going to familiarize myself for a moment… ::thumbing through the data:: Let’s see… most of this is from a Dr. Orrey… ah! Amity. I’ve heard of it. ::pausing:: Delta Quadrant, right? You're a long way from… well, I don’t know if you called that home, but… ::clears his throat, a bit sheepish:: Well, you’ve certainly logged the miles.
Richards: Yes ::chuckling lightly:: Delta Quadrant. Amity was my home for about a year. ::smiling and rubbing her belly slowly:: Then I met some handsome Starfleet boy and long story short— now I’m here.
Even if this particular sickbay held some of her more rough memorable moments, she could at least say she never had a bad Doctor. Thankfully Roy also seemed to be one of the good ones.
Bancroft: Ah, yes – Starfleet romance. Starts with a shared glance, usually over some sort of galactic crisis, and ends here with biometric scans and a prescription for a nutritional supplement regimen. Classic story arc.
He gave a theatrical sigh and tapped at the PADD with an arched eyebrow, as though he was making notes for a future holo-soap opera.
Bancroft: ::to himself:: Tragic, really. No great holonovella writers left to capture it properly.
Richards: Their dad is usually here with me, but some family drama has him on Betazed for a little while. ::Smiling shyly:: If there’s any imaging today, can I have them sent to my personal PADD too? Talos doesn’t like to miss this stuff.
She hung her head low, feeling the emotions of missing him come on a bit too strong. She quickly tried to blink away the tears threatening to fall.
Bancroft: Of course. I’ll beam the imaging results straight to your PADD – high-res, flattering angles only. No weird, gooey cross-sections unless specifically requested.
Roy’s fingers danced across the console with a practiced ease, then he leaned in conspiratorially.
Bancroft: And if this Talos – whoever he is – asks why the boy twin looks like he’s preparing for a coronation, just say it’s hereditary.
Her laughter faltered. Just slightly. Roy caught the shimmer in her eyes a half-second too late – the way amusement tipped into something softer, heavier. A blink, a breath, and there it was: that unmistakable sting of heartache, disguised by a smile nobody would believe.
He made a mental note – never assume the man is just off grabbing coffee. On a Starship, "he's not here right now" could mean anything from family drama to a eulogy waiting to happen.
Richards: I'm fine. ::Waving her hand dismissively:: Everything makes me cry these days, just pretend like it’s not happening and it’ll stop.
Bancroft: You’ve got it. I’m a doctor. I can clinically ignore emotional outbursts with the precision of a neurosurgeon. You’ll find I’m very emotionally unintuitive – it’s really one of my better qualities.
With bleary eyes she looked up at him and let out a couple breathy laughs through her nose.
Richards: Thanks, Roy.
Roy offered her a tissue with a flourish, placing it on the biobed like it was part of some sacred rite.
Bancroft: There. Totally not acknowledging anything. Zero emotions detected.
Richards: Good man, ::Wiping away the stray tears falling:: now back to the babies.
Bancroft: ::tapping the biobed controls:: Well, I can tell you that your vitals look solid. And the twins’ heart rates are strong, no signs of distress – though one of them is doing what I believe the textbooks refer to as ‘an aggressive barrel roll.’ Training for zero-G gymnastics, perhaps.
Richards: That is certainly what it feels like. Based on the position of the movement, that would be my daughter.
A soft pulse of blue light swept across her belly as the biobed’s imaging system came online. Roy angled the screen toward her, zooming in on the squirming silhouettes – tiny limbs, tiny hearts, tiny new lives.
If you squinted, they looked like gummy bears in a washing machine. If you didn’t squint, they looked like the beginning of someone’s entire universe.
Bancroft: Ah, yes, Twin A, mid-interpretive dance. And Twin B, who appears to be… well, that’s an awfully rude gesture for someone who hasn’t even been born yet.
Richards: My boy… ::Shaking her head:: I want to blame that on his father, but… I think I can take the credit for that.
Bancroft: ::grinning:: Well, at least we know one of them has inherited some wit. That’s important for survival in space.
He began noting standard measurements, making quiet annotations on the PADD as he worked. Femur lengths, heart rate variability, mineral density.
Then his brow furrowed – just a touch. Almost imperceptibly.
The bone density in Twin A – female, according to the genetic readout – was notably lower than her brother’s. Not alarming. Not even truly abnormal at this gestation state. But… odd. It didn’t quite track with the rest of her otherwise healthy profile.
He ran a quick metabolic panel while continuing to talk, hoping Sam wouldn’t notice the flicker of clinical curiosity cross his face.
Bancroft: ::casual, still smiling:: Images sent to your PADD. I even added a sepia filter – make it look like they were conceived in a simpler time. You know, like last week.
Richards: Thanks, :: Shaking her head lightly:: next time add vignette, really makes the colors pop.
The scan completed with a soft chime. Sam looked down at the results on her PADD while Roy quietly studied the metabolic markers populating his. Calcium uptake: low. Osteogenic signaling: slightly impaired.
Not by much. Maybe even a calibration issue. Maybe nothing at all.
But the longer he looked, the more it didn’t sit right.
TBC in part 2
Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1
&
Samantha Richards
Civilian Scientist
((OOC RANK: Lieutenant JG))
USS ARTEMIS-A
A240103SR3