McAllister/Grey/Renkert "The Games We Play" *backpost*
Mekaela St.George
Paul McAllister
Ella Grey
Alexandra Lee
Indigo Renkert
****
<City of Calais, France, Earth>
“So,” asked Paul McAllister, “What goes good with Chicken Parmesan?”
He was standing at the tasting counter of a small wine shop in the
center of the restored district, a long loaf of freshly baked bread
tucked under one arm and holding a canvas bag containing a jar of dill
pickles and a freeze-bag of black cherry ice cream. He glanced at the
chronometer on the wall behind the counter and silently swore; he was
running late. Alex will be fit to be tied, he thought.
The old woman behind the counter produced the requisite Gallic shrug.
“Perhaps monsieur would enjoy a fine Sangiovese?” she asked, setting a
glass on the counter.
McAllister didn’t bother with the taste. “With parmesan? I don’t
think so. Madam, I am late for a very important date – if I don’t get
these pickles back to my wife soon, I might never see her naked again.
Why not just pop down to the cellar and grab a merlot? Any one will
do; grab one with a short name; they’re usually the most reasonable.”
Soon after, the stocky intelligence officer was on his way, two
bottles of Chateau Petrus in a wicker carrier held in one hand, the
pickles and ice cream in the other. As walked to the transporter
station, he wondered why the old woman in the wine shop had laughed so
hard as she closed up her shop – in the middle of the day no less – as
he was leaving.
****
<USS Galaxy, Sector 001 – Lt. Grey’s Quarters>
McAllister pressed the announcement pad next to Ella’s door. “You
look beautiful,” he told his wife as they waited for the enter chime.
“Whoever said you look like you swallowed a cantaloupe is an ass – if
you’d just tell me the sumbitch’s name, he’d pay for the insult!”
The door opened, cutting off Alex's reply; Ella greeted them with a
warm smile. "You made it."
Paul grinned and held out bread and a bottle of wine. “Fresh from
France; stopped a little place on the way back from some business.”
Alexandra offered up the package she carried. “And black-cherry ice
cream!” She smiled shyly. “I’m afraid I couldn’t wait to try it;
it’s quite good.”
"I can't wait to try it," Ella replied. "It's been so long since I've
been to France." She hadn't been able to follow Paul this time so it
had been quite the challenge to plant a bug on his bag. Ella was
rather impressed with herself - it had taken him a whole forty-five
minutes to find the damn thing. "Come in."
The dining room table was laid out with her best china (stolen during
a quick trip down to visit her parents) and a lace tablecloth that
would have been ecru if Indigo hadn't tye-dyed it in blues and
purples. "Dinner should be ready in five minutes."
McAllister followed Alex into Ella’s quarters. “It smells great,” he
said. “Will Indy be joining us?”
She nodded. "Pretty soon. She's just finishing up some paperwork and
then had to change into something more fashionable. Can you help me
with this bottle?"
“Sure thing,” he replied, following her into the kitchen area. He
didn’t need to ask which drawer held the corkscrew. While he
decanted, Alex said, “I wanted to go to Calais with him, but you know
how Paul is when he’s about his business. I spent the day going over
impulse performance specifications. Doesn’t seem quite fair does it?”
Ella gave him a sweet smile. "So, business, huh?"
McAllister eased the cork from a bottle and set it aside. Ella handed
him a knife and he started slicing bread. “Yeah, business. Had to
check in with some folks.” He glanced at Ella using the corner of his
eye. “I think I’m being followed again; I found a tracer in my bag.
Took me awhile to catch a cat to attach it to. Didn’t see anyone on
the ground, but I did cut my trip short just in case.”
Ella raised an eyebrow. It was the first time Paul had brought it up
since finding out what she was doing.
“Paul, we talked about his – your paranoia is showing,” exclaimed
Alex. “If you keep this up I’m going to make you see the counselor’s
again.” She turned to Ella. “Tell him he’s just being paranoid. An
analyst at his level has nothing to worry about, does he, Ella?”
“That’s right, El-tee, tell her I’m completely safe,” encouraged
McAllister with a wink. “Nothing can happen when all you do is read
dispatches and technical articles all day. I’m gonna change my code
name to Condor. And I’m only an ensign to boot.”
"Unless you're a super secret spy on your off time," she teased.
“Maybe, but I’m not in your league evidently,” he replied. “Engineer,
hot pilot, and glamour girl to boot – now slumming for; I forgot, what
was your bosses name again?” Two could tease as good as one.
"I think his name is Elliott?" Ella said smoothly. "Maybe Ely? I
haven't met him yet."
Paul grinned. “If he’s as good as you say, how can you be sure?”
Indigo saved her from replying by bouncing into the room. She was
dressed almost conservatively, for Indy, in a long red dress with gold
flowers, a high neck, and no sleeves. She had paired it with purple
sneakers. "Here finally! Hey Paul, Alex. Did I miss dinner yet?"
“The only thing you’ve missed is Paul and Ella sniping at one another
again. I certainly hope he grows up before I have this baby – I’m not
ready to raise two children!” replied Alex.
"Isn't that the lesser known definition of matrimony?" Ella said archly.
Alex gave her a look that could have stopped a warp reactor cold, and
then realized exactly what Ella was referring to. She smiled. “I
suppose. But the games you guys play, sneaking around and all that.
Do you know he left me sitting at the ice cream shop while he chased a
cat halfway across the park?”
“So, Indy, what entertainment do you have for us this evening?”
McAllister hastily interjected.
“’I Never’’” Indigo said promptly. “With ice cream instead of alcohol."
“I Never? With ice cream? Sounds interesting,” said Alex.
"It didn't seem fair to leave you out just because you're pregnant,"
Indigo said with a grin. "So does everyone know the rules?"
McAllister chuckled. “I suppose it’s the same as the drinking game –
if the statement is false, do nothing; if it’s true, you have to take
a drink, er, a bite of ice cream?” Indigo nodded.
"I'll go first," Ella said. "I've never dyed my hair pink."
"Hey!" Indy protested, putting down her thumb. "Blatant attack much?"
Ella shrugged.
Alex eyed her ice cream greedily, but stayed with the spirit of the
game and did not take a bite.
To her surprise, Paul, red faced, did. “It was a costume thing, when
we playing on our second tour,” he mumbled. Ella and Indigo snickered.
Alex really wanted to sink her teeth into some ice cream. What the
hell, she thought. I’m sure they know already. “I never swam in a
competition naked,” she said, following with a big bite of the
black-cherry goo and sighing in satisfaction.
Ella and Indy shook their heads.
Paul smiled at the memory. “My turn? Let’s see…” He looked over at
Ella. “I never sabotaged a shuttle.”
Ella glared at him as she took a bite of ice cream.
Indy cracked her knuckles as she looked at the rest of them and then
grinned. "I've never planted a bug on someone."
Ella transferred her glare to Indy and took another bite.
McAllister had been surprised by Ella’s answer to his question; he
almost forgot to take a bite of his own ice cream. He was savoring
the taste when Ella’s answer to Indy’s question almost made him spit
the mouthful out. Indy seems to know more than I figured, thought
Paul.
It was Ella’s turn.
"I've never been in a band," she said.
Indigo stuck out her tongue. "It was, like, for two minutes."
Paul ate his required bite before asking, “Really? Only two minutes?
"Yeah, I really have no musical talent." She smiled. "Unless you count
the kazoo."
Alex said, “I never had a chance to sing on stage – wait, does dinner
theater count?
"It should," Ella said grumpily and ate another bite of ice cream.
“Looks like you need some more ice cream,” said Paul grinning. “And
you can make some fine music with a kazoo in the right setting, Indy.”
He looked back at Ella. “Let’s see – I never had a boss I trusted –
supervisor, yes, but a big boss, like a central office kinda of boss.
Never trusted ‘em. Especially when they were trying to help.”
A flash of amusement crossed Ella's face. She didn't reach for the bowl.
Paul raised an eyebrow in a questioning glance, but let Ella’s silence pass.
Indigo considered her ice cream and pouted. "Aren't you supposed to
automatically not trust 'the man?' I don't think that's fair." But she
took another bite. "I never did anything that actually caused by boss
not to trust me.” She grinned wickedly at Paul.
McAllister grinned back but did not finish the last bite of his ice
cream. “I think I’m OK on that score.”
Ella laughed. "Not even coming into work with a parrot and an eye patch?"
"Basic manipulation," replied Paul. "You see a man with a parrot and
an eye patch and you expect him to act a certain way; you believe he
is harmless, a loon, not a threat, someone who can be trusted only to
take out the trash. You get used to this, and you forget, you place
items on your desk, you say things -- he's only a loony bird, walking
around with that toy parrot, he doesn't understand. I take the items,
I learn your secrets, and still, I'm just a joke. Until I'm not.
Until I'm here, with my parrot, and they're not. No ice cream for me
on that one."
"Not until the boss figures out what you've been playing at," Ella
agreed. "Then it's a big scoopful, my friend."
“Unless that’s what the boss always wanted,” said McAllister.
“Sometimes, they trust one to fail because that’s what’s supposed
happen.”
Alex looked from her husband to Ella and back. “What game are you two
playing exactly?”
Ella smiled. "Politics, I'm afraid."
Alex stuck out her tongue and made a retching noise. “This is
supposed to be a relaxing night with friends.” She glared at her
husband. “How dare you ruin Ella’s dinner? You should be ashamed.”
"Yes, Paul," Ella tsked. "Shame on you."
McAllister glanced sheepishly at each woman in turn and saw a total
lack of sympathy for anything related to testosterone. "Sorry, Ella,"
he said. "You pick the game next time. Want some more ice cream?"