Posted by Lieutenant Allison Scott (Pediatrics/Assistant Chief Medical Officer) in Rico Quarters - Of course there is a key famous last words
Allison came out of the bedroom after making the bed and straightening up the clothes that seemed to litter the ground like a teenagers bedroom. Part of her wondered why she just didn’t move in. His quarters were three times the size of hers and she spent ninety percent of her off duty time here anyway. The other part of her knew why she was not living here: he never asked. That would change one day but for now, Ally made it her place in spirit with half her clothes mingling with half his, artwork that did not display a firearm or a battle, and small comfy blankets. That was a sign a bachelor was not really a bachelor. Men did not have soft, fuzzy blankets in room coordinating colors draped over the foot of their bed or stored neatly away in an ottoman. They typically had sweat pants, sweatshirts, and if the temperature was not right they turned up the thermostat. Women were the queens of throw blankets which were used for cuddling on couches, curling up with a book, or swaddled up in during holovids on a Friday night with a bowl of popcorn. Rico’s quarters, for the record, had several of these blankets placed strategically around the room for all to see.

“Rico, have you seen my nail file,” Ally asked starting to open random drawers in the room. The first five drawers she looked in held either random clothes he had stuffed into a drawer and probably had forgotten about and junk stuff all men seemed to keep but could never tell you the purpose for. When asked they said they knew and ot put it back but never gave you a firm answer of ‘oh that is for blank’.

Lt. Ally Scott. medical

Sitting on his couch and playing his guitar a little, Rico looked up and watched his girlfriend for a moment as she went through the drawers. Then, his eyes began to strategically sweep the room.

“Why would it be in those drawers,” he asked. “I never saw it or touched it, it’ll be where you left it.” He put his guitar down and leant it on the couch, then came to his feet. As he made his way to her he made sure to make a show of checking under the throw blankets she had placed all over his room like some weird territorial claiming ceremony. They seemed to fit in with hairbrushes left on his cabinets, hair clips on the replicaror pad, assorted toiletries spread across his bathroom cabinet top and pictures of soft and cuddly things, or brightly colored random things, spread over his walls between his posters and pictures making it look like he had a personality disorder.

And she complained when he left socks in the corner or a shirt on the end of his bed, or handcuffs on the kitchen table when they had friends around for a while. She even hid his copies of Ten Tickle Monthly and his favourite Orions Belt comics. “Have you tried looking for it amongst the things hiding my bathroom cabinet from view?” He came to a stop behind her and slid his hands around her waist affectionately, pressing into her to distract her from the stupid nail file.

Lt Vanhall, CoS