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The two of them may or may not have indulged in a little too much during buffer time by a drink or two. Maybe three. But what could they say? It’d been a hell of a month. What better way to destress after a long work week/month/year than by drunkenly belting out classical lyrics while busting funky (and admittedly fairly clumsy) moves through the hallways? They didn’t have to wait to get to the mess hall to get the party started! Fortunately the nearby turbo lift was free for them to sonically torture to their hearts’ content. Boimler was doing his classic shuffle dance while Mariner was streaming her hands through the air. Boimler was noticeably off key compared to Mariner, not that she was in a mood to poke fun at him for it (shocking as that was). No, instead she just surrendered herself to the music. It was the best she had felt all month, why shouldn’t she?
You could travel the wo-orld
But nothin’ comes close
To the golden co-o-oast
Once you party with u-us
You'll be falling in love
Ooh oh ooh oh oh ooh
California girls
We're unforgettable
Daisy dukes
Bikinis on top
Sun-kissed skin
And it was then that it turned out the lift wasn’t as private as they had thought, and one Commander Ransom sounded out behind them. Loudly. Boimler could’ve sworn he saw a blood vessel or two bulging from his right temple.
“Will you shut the fuck up” the commander said, stopping the duo dead in their tracks in a bloodcurdling howl.
Boimler was unsurprisingly the most visibly startled, or rather terrified seeing as he practically jumped from his skin. He couldn’t bear to turn around and accept his shame.
Mariner, on the other hand, spun on her heel and threw a finger in the good commander’s face, “Look ‘ere, buddy—”
“‘Buddy’?” Random interrupted with a cocked and very pissed eyebrow.
Mariner merely doubled down, squinting as her volume matched his, leaving poor Boimler to huddle in on himself even more “—we lower deckers bust our asses off for you schmucks—”
“‘Schmucks’?!” The commander, not letting himself be intimidated by a singular digit, pressed his face forward, squishing his nose against her finger ever so slightly.
“Yeah! Schmucks! Boimsty and I are just party rockin’ over here and you try to kill our mojo! Just look at poor Boimsty!” She cried out, flinging her arms to emphasize her tearing, snotty mess of a companion. Her arm wrapped around his shoulder like an armored cloak, pulling him close.
Ransom’s jaw simply hung loose, his hands dangling at his sides as his shoulders slouched forward. The three of them stood in what would have been silence if it weren’t for the PADD still playing the old earth classical hit California Gurls. It could not have been more pathetic if Boimler tried.
Except he did try, and sadly succeeded as he broke down into a wave of sobs.
Mariner brought him closer like a wounded child, “See what you did?!”
Ransom’s hands raised in defense before he spoke, “What I did? I didn’t do anything!”
“And it’s freaking him out!” she shouted back in Boimler’s defense.
Boimler was finally able to shriek out something edgewise, “So’sallthisyelling!”, making both Ransom and Mariner practically fling themselves back. They gave him a few moments to collect himself, not that they could speak if they wanted to. “S-sorry, it’s not like y-you haven’t seen me doing worse, uh, sir, but…” he continued on but had to pause a second time.
His commander simply pinched the bridge of his nose before raising his palm to the poor junior officer, “It’s fine, Mr. Boimler, just… chill out next time?”
Boimler smacked himself in the forehead with the Vulcan salute for… some reason, poor kid was probably having another of his huffy panics, “YESCOMMANDERRANSOMSIIIR”
Praise the universe, the lift had finally reached his stop, “Riiight” Ransom said as he slipped by the two ensigns. They could’ve sworn he had grumbled something along the lines of “those two take years off my life, I need to go spend some time with Churrolivia”
The door hissed shut behind him and the both of them merely exchanged a dazed glance.
…
……
………
Fuck it!
You could travel the wo-orld
But nothing comes close
To the golden co-o-oast