Capt Wes Greaves – Getting Old

[Alora DeVeau]

OOC: This made me chuckle.

IC: 

((CMO's Office, Main Sickbay, Deck 10, USS Thor)) 

Hoping to save some of his precious time, Wes stood in front of Lieutenant Alieth’s desk, hoping against hope that she would help him out.

 

Greaves: Hey Doc, hope you're not busy. I was looking for a favor. 

 

The woman's face remained expressionless, but somehow acquired a more relaxed air.

 

Alieth: No, in fact, it is a remarkably quiet day. How can I be of service?

 

Wes slid a padd out of his uniform pocket and slid it across Alieth's desk.  

 

Greaves: I won't lie, I'm not here for a social call. I'm swamped with work and I need my annual medical signed off. Can you hook me up and clear me for duty? 

 

The Marine watched as Alieth glanced at the padd, then at the marine, then back at the padd, and once again at her friend. Her brow furrowed anew, dangerously so. Largely because there was a taunting glint behind the sullen expression.

 

Alieth: Absolutely not a chance. You are going to get the mandatory physical. Point. By. Point.

 

oO Ah, so we’re doing it the hard way Oo

 

Wes dropped into a chair in front of the woman’s desk and frowned at her.

 

Greaves: Alieth, come on. I’m swamped with work, I don’t have time. Besides, you basically just did an exam after my shuttle… incident. Tell you what, we can work something out. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.
 

The Vulcan folded her arms across her chest and radiated an energy that would make most men taller than her cringe.

 

Alieth: I will not accept bribes this time Wesley, you have skipped so much Vulcan scolding lately, Come on, take off your jacket.

 

For a moment Wes considered arguing, but he knew his friend. This was a lost battle, and it wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. If anything, cooperation would speed things along. Then again, a little begruding acceptance wouldn’t hurt.

 

Greaves: Fine, fine, but let’s make this quick.  Just wave a  tricorder over me or something and call it good.

 

Alieth: Come on Wesley, stop being so shy, I have stirred the inner part of your ribcage, I think few people can say the same.

 

With an exaggerated huff more characteristic of an angry 12 year old, Wes stood and began unbuttoning his uniform top with extreme prejudice.

 

Greaves: Alright doc, have it your way, but I’m going to remember this next time you need a favor from us. Just know, if you ask me to pee in a cup, I’m spilling it. Now what do you want me to do?

 

Alieth: Response

 

He tossed his uniform jacket onto the desk, nearly causing one of the two small towers of padds to wobble. For a second it looked like it might topple, but eventually the wobbling settled and Wes shot his friend a mischievous glance.

 

Greaves: Well you should know my medical history better than I do by now. I basically don’t remember the last time I was here… you know, head trauma and all that.

 

Aleith: Response

 

Greaves: I mean, I’ve got all the usuals. My back aches, my ears ring, my knees hurt, I seem to roll my ankle at least once a week… You know, normal stuff. Is there something in particular you’re asking about?

 

Alieth: Response

 

 

TAG/TBC 

 
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Captain (SFMC) Wes Greaves
Marine Detachment Commander
Chief of Security & Tactical
USS Thor - NCC 82607
E239702WG0
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