Subject: Grail: "Last Look Back"- Getting to Know You (DeMontigny/ Brinn)

<<Stardate 47307.18- 07:30>>

<<XO's office>>

Athalya Anne wandered into her office only to find that DeMontigny had

beaten her there. Standing up, his eyes were immediately drawn to her

'leg'. Last time he had seen her, she was still whole. "Er... ma'am? I

think you forgot something back in your quarters..."

Athalya Anne scowled. "Cute, lieutenant, very cute." His wisecracks and

that ma'am shit were the very last things she needed right now. The

person who had been beating her in the back of the head with the butt of

a phazer rifle increased the fury of his attack with a vengeance. She

limped over to the replicator, "Coffee, black." She arched an eyebrow

at DeMontigny, "Lieutenant?"

"Non merci, ma'am."

Athalya Anne resisted the growing urge to strangle DeMontigny because of

what it would do to his boyish good looks. "Very well." She sat down

behind her desk and took a generous gulp of her coffee. *Thank heavens

for black coffee.* Nothing in the universe could beat it.

DeMontigny watched Brinn. She looked like shit. Best looking shit he had

ever seen, but shit nonetheless. And from what he had heard had

transpired in Ten-Forward, she had good reason to be. François just

hoped it wouldn't affect their meeting any. Because he knew exactly why

he was here. And he knew what was going to happen. She was going to

either a) scream her head off at him, b) threaten him or c) let him know

that she was so confident in her position that she could calmly

reprimand him. It had happened to him before and didn't impress him at

all.

"Lets get down to business, lieutenant. During the battle, you

questioned my orders. That is not acceptable. The next time you do it,

I will stuff you out of the nearest airlock.'

'B it is!' DeMontigny thought.

"However," she resumed her reprimand, "I do not mind if you question my

orders during a yellow or green alert, as long as it's in private."

Athalya Anne paused as a thought struck her, "Lieutenant, how long have

you been in Starfleet?"

"Almost two years, ma'am." François replied calmly, knowing what was

coming next.

"Then, there forth, either you're in direct violation of battle protocol

or you're too dense to have picked up the fact that you DO NOT question

a superior's orders in battle. Also, you should know that there are

times that when the slightest hesitation to carry out a superior's

orders is deadly." The usually wicked glint in her eyes deepened as she

recalled that every crime deserves a punishment, "My first instinct is

to let you go. You are, after all, a rookie. However, this is one

lesson that you must know by heart, so drop and give me 175."

François exploded into laughter. He couldn't believe his ears. He hadn'=

t

expected THIS. Push-ups?!? What did she think he was? A marine?!? There

was no way in hell that he was going to do push-ups for her. Not here,

anyway.

"Ok, now it's my turn." he said, "I don't know what they teach you in

the 'marines'," he said the word with derision, "but here in Starfleet

we don't let our friends fight alone and we don't throw away the

advantage of surprise by engaging in evasive maneuvers!"

Athalya Anne jumped up screaming. "I didn't ask you for

your opinion, Lt. I ordered you to drop and give me 175. Now, drop!"

DeMontigny also stood up, staring Brinn directly in the eyes. "I ain't

one of your little green killing machines, Brinn. This is Starfleet, we

don't do push-ups!"

"You do what I fucking tell you to do!"

François decided to see what his 'superior' was made of. Leaning over

the desk, he stared straight into her eyes. "Bite me."

Next thing he knew, he was on the floor, clutching his now aching jaw.

Brinn really packed a punch. Literally. He turned his head and looked at

her again. Her face was flush with anger and she was breathing heavily.

God she was sexy! He gave her a look that told her that he approved of

what happened. "Didn't think you had it in you." he said as he began the

push-ups.

Athalya Anne perched herself on her desk. "Mr DeMontigny, as long as you

serve on this ship," she paused, "As long as you serve on my watch, I own

you." Pure and simple, cut and dry. "You knew that when you signed on, =

and

if you don't know it now, you belong in a home for the mentaly impared."

"On to the next issue," Athalya Anne continued stocily,

"Please refrain from calling me 'ma'am'. The American version of the

title harkens back to a rather sexist period of Earth's history and

suggests that men and women are not equal. Since then, the term 'sir'

has become a unisex term, applicable to both males and females. Another

historical footnote: where I come from, the title ma'am is reserved for

the queen." She flashed her most charming smile at DeMontigny over her

cup of coffee, trying to take the sharpness off her rebuke, "I'm just a

wee Irish lass, so it's really very inappropriate." Athalya Anne stood.

François nodded as he finished his punishment. "Very well... my queen."

he said with a grin.

"Unless there's anything else, you're dismissed."

And DeMontigny left, he had a poker game to attend to.