[Joint Post] Lt Alex Storm and LtJg Roy Bancroft - A Bit Precocious - Part 1

[Karen Morris]

((Sickbay, USS Artemis))

Carrying her daughter, Alex walked into sickbay directly from the shuttle. Cassie faced her, and the four-year-old’s legs wrapped around her mother's waist. One of Alex’s hands cradled her daughter's head against her shoulder, her other hand supported the girl's weight, considerably more than when she had seen her last, yet as light as a feather.

Alex's hair was disheveled, but oblivious, she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the curly black hair.  As she raised her head, her eyes searched for a familiar head of dirty-blonde hair.  Not seeing it, she called out…

Storm: Roy? Are you in here?

She could feel her daughter's arms wrap tighter around her neck.  Alex leaned down and whispered into her ear.

Storm: It's okay, sweet pea.  Doctor Roy is a good friend.  He's just going to make sure everything's okay.

From the far side of Sickbay, where diagnostic equipment murmured beneath the subdued work of the department, Roy Bancroft looked up. He knew that voice.

There was strain in it, though – not weakness, but the thinness of someone who had held herself together until she reached a place where she might, finally, be permitted to stop. Roy was moving before the thought had entirely finished.

Then he saw the child in her arms.

Cassie.

The name arrived alongside a sharp contraction behind his ribs. His attention narrowed at once: the way the girl held Alex, the angle of her head, the set of her small shoulders. Nothing immediately wrong. Frightened, perhaps. Tired. Holding tightly to the person she’d only just recovered.

They both were.

Roy slowed before he reached them. Whatever he wanted to ask Alex could wait. He needed to acknowledge Cassie first – Alex would understand. Hopefully.

Bancroft: ::gentle smile:: Well. Hello there.

He glanced at Alex, and for a moment the simple fact of her presence threatened to interfere with every useful function he possessed. Then he returned his attention to Cassie, careful not to crowd the young girl – particularly careful not to suggest through body language that she’d be leaving her mother’s arms any time soon.

Storm: Dr. Roy, this…

She nuzzled her daughter's hair, giving her voice a chance to settle. 

Storm:  This is Cassie.  Cassie, this is a special friend, Dr. Roy. 

Cassie lifted her head, glancing at the stranger through her curls.  Turning back to look at her mother, Cassie asked quietly.

Antares: Dr. Roy?

Alex nodded. 

Roy lowered himself into an easy crouch, bringing his face nearer to Cassie’s line of sight while leaving the distance between them for her and Alex to control.

Bancroft: That’s me. Though I answer to “Roy” most days. ::conspiratorially, grinning:: All this ‘Doctor’ business makes it sound like I know what I’m doing. ::beat:: What would you like me to call you?

With her face buried into her mom's shoulder, the muffled name could barely be heard.

Antares:  Cassie

Roy inclined his head as though she’d entrusted him with something of grave importance. 

Bancroft: Well, it’s an honor to meet you, Cassie.

The little girl’s head remained pressed against her mother, but it turned toward his voice.  Her little eyes blinked, and her grip softened into something closer to trust.  Cassie looked up into her mother’s eyes, whispering in a voice loud enough to be heard across the room.

Antares: Daddy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.

Storm: And that is wise.  But just because you don’t know Roy yet, doesn’t mean he’s a stranger.  Mommy knows him…

Alex’s eyes shifted from her daughter to the bearded man standing near her - a distance measured more by breath than by breadth. Turning her eyes back to her daughter, she continued.

Storm:  Mommy knows him well.  I … trust him.

Cassie studied the lanky man, initially with a heart clouded by mistrust born of a secretive life.  But something in his look caught Cassie’s attention, and with one hand, she reached out.  Her small fingers touched the outside corner of one of his eyes.

The touch seemed to bolster the girl’s confidence.  

Antares:  I like your eyes, Dr. Roy.  

The child paused for a moment, then looking up at Alex and back at Roy, she continued…

Antares:  And Mommy likes your beard.

For perhaps the first time since Alex had entered Sickbay, Roy entirely lost possession of his train of thought. His expression remained serviceable, though. Years of medicine – and a childhood spent learning to behave through formal Bancroft family meals – had taught him how to survive the unexpected without immediately displaying it for all to see.

His ears, regrettably, had received no such training.

One hand rose to his beard before he could stop it. Callus came back only in fragments now: cold water, exhaustion, the rough growth he’d shaved away as soon as he could. Then Alex, upon their reunion, her gaze lingering for half a second longer than necessary.

I like the beard.

He’d regrown it recently by choice. Until this precise moment, he’d almost convinced himself that her comment had played no role whatsoever in that decision.

Storm:  Cassie!  How did you…::Her eyes seeking out Roys:: I didn’t say anything.

Antares:  You did.  I heard it -- here.

The little girl touched her forehead - not her ears.  Alex’s cheeks bloomed a soft pink.  Sheepishly, she met Roy’s eyes.

Storm:  Sorry.  

Roy blinked.

His hand was still on his beard. He lowered it with the deliberation of someone attempting to conceal evidence.

Bancroft: Well. ::clearing his throat:: That does seem like privileged information.

His eyes met Alex’s. The humor was there, but beneath it lay the far more dangerous realization that she’d likely thought of him even when he hadn’t been present.

Roy looked back to Cassie before either adult was required to survive that realization.

Bancroft: Can I ask you something important, Cassie? ::glancing around:: We’re a little short on good doctors today, and you look like someone whose opinion I can trust. Think you can help me make sure your mom’s doing alright?

His gaze flicked to Alex – not a substitute for asking Cassie, but an acknowledgement that this was her daughter, and her decision mattered too.

Cassie leaned her head back against her mom, but nodded a confident, ‘yes.’  A quiet hum of relief reverberated through Alex’s chest, and a lump formed in her throat. 

Storm: That’s sweet of you to look after me, little one. 

Alex leaned down and rubbed noses with her daughter, sending Cassie into a short giggle.

Roy inclined his head, then raised one finger in a brief promise that he would return.

The walk to the replicator was unhurried. He leaned toward it, spoke too softly to be heard, and glanced once over his shoulder. The familiar hum followed.

When he returned, there was something folded in both hands. He allowed the bundle to open with modest ceremony, revealing a white coat cut in perfect miniature, its lines echoing those of his own coat.

Across the left breast, in clean, precise lettering:

USS Artemis-A | Medical Department
Antares, Cassie

Bancroft: ::lightly:: I’ve been given to understand that you can’t do any official doctoring without the proper uniform. Would you like to try it on, Cassie?

With one hand, Cassie reached out and touched one of the letters on the coat. 

Antares: That’s an A.

Alex blew out a puff of air.  At least Kona had tried to teach her … something.  

Storm: It is!  This says, 

Alex’s finger followed along with the words as she said them. 

Storm:  USS Artemis-A, that’s our ship, Medical Department.  Antares, Cassie

The little girl’s eyes grew wide.

Antares:  That’s me!  

But her lower lip announced a realization and disappointment with loud fanfare.

Antares:  But you got it wrong, Dr. Roy.

Roy raised his eyebrows.

Bancroft: ::seriously:: Hm, I thought I might have made a mistake somewhere. ::smiling:: What’s the problem, Doctor?

Antares:  That’s backwards! I’m Cassie Antares! 

Roy’s eyes widened before snapping down to his own left breast pocket.

Bancroft: Well, that is a problem – and it looks like mine’s the same. I’ve been walking around all day thinking my name was Bancroft Roybertson. How embarrassing!

Chief Morgan had, disagreeably, refused every request to abbreviate the first name on Roy’s coat. Roy remained convinced that this was because the decision brought the man a private and sustaining joy.

At least something did.

Storm:  She’s a bit precocious.  

Antares:  What’s… pree-co-shus?

Alex leaned in.  And in a voice as serious as she could manage, she said,

Storm:  It means you’re smart. oO And blunt. Oo

Antares:  What’s blunt?

Turning to Roy with her eyebrows raised, Alex shook her head.

Storm: And obviously needing to learn about not telling other people's thoughts.

[Continued]

~*~

Lt Alex Storm

Tactical Officer

USS Artemis

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And 

Lieutenant JG Roy Bancroft

Assistant Chief Medical Officer

USS Artemis-A

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