<snip>

Ford watched her leave, not quite a rush, but with a purpose. He downed the rest of the grape juice, again thanking Randy, and set the glass down.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he announced, I have a security review of the new ship very early tomorrow. Good evening, everyone.” He nodded and crossed the room, hoping he wouldn’t be too far behind her.

Rand made a left out the door heading for the closest airlock. All the whole muttering quietly to herself, in Gaelic. The adrenaline lingering insisting she run after forcing herself to be still for the captain’s speech and the benefit of those watching the ‘poor pitiful ensign.’ Experience, though, told her to walk steadily with purpose, in order to make herself control the reaction rather than other way around.

He spotted her as he exited, thankfully. “Ensign,” he called, approaching but stopping a few meters from her. “Do you need anything?” he asked, his deep voice low.

COS Ford

Rand, perhaps hoping it was Randy behind her, pulling her leg by calling her ensign, or maybe she recognized the tone of his voice for what it was. Rand turned around uttering the first thing to come to mind, “A do-over.” But it wasn’t Randy or a stranger behind her. It was Lt Fordham. Her face flushed as cold heat waves swamped her and there was that sound like a rushing train. “Um,” She forced herself to breathe, she could hyperventilate when she got back to her quarters. “N..no Lt I’m fine.” Obviously not.
Yeoman Rand

Ford nodded slowly. Obviously not. But wants to be seen as fine.

“In that case…” he said, “I’m unsure of where my quarters are.” He folded his hands behind his back, hiding them, a less threatening posture. “Would you show me where they are, please? Room 25, section F.”

He was no doctor, but his experience with men having similar reactions told him that a task could take someone’s mind away from things, and time and distance could also be helpful.

And asking her to go for a walk would have the opposite reaction.

COS Ford

A request from a ranking officer. Okay, she could handle that. That could put her slightly behind, unless she made her stops along the way. And the airlock was on deck 11 so they had the whole way up to deck 4 to go. “Of course Lt. Do you mind if we make a couple stops along the way? I have to pick up end of day reports for the captain; I can give you the two bit tour along the way.” If not, she’d just have to run, or have Randy pick them up.

“Not at all, Ensign. It will give me a chance to look over the ship.” It really would, but would also give her more time away from… whatever had just happened.

She pulled out her communicator and flipped it open. =C= Yeoman Rand to Chief Dullands.=C=
=O=Dullands here. What can I do for you Rand?=O=
=C=The senior staff is boarding Sentinel tonight. I wanted to make sure their personal effects had been transferred.=C=
=O=I just sent over the doctors and I’m sending the last one, a Lt Fordham over now. Don’t worry Yeoman, I’ve got you covered.=O=
=C=Thank you Dullands.=C= she flipped her communicator closed and tucked it back into her pocket. “This way Lt.” Rand led the way further down the corridor and made a right leading to the air lock. She clasped her hands behind her in an effort to not wring them.
Yeoman Rand

“Please, call me Ford,” he said as they walked. “And I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.” He glanced at her from the side. “Unless it happens to actually be ‘Ensign’? Ensign Ensign. That would be interesting.” He hoped the attempt at levity would work, but it was a thin line.

COS Ford