From: Masako Goto
Date: Thu, 13 Mar 1997 02:10:32 -0500 (EST)
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Murray's Murky Past
*NRPG*
Warning: This message contains stuff that you probably wouldn't need to
know unless you were very interested in Anne's psychological make-up and why
she acts the way she does. In other words, you *could* probably get away
with not reading it... I won't test you on it, I promise.
Chris: I admit it, I took the flashback idea from your posts. Except, of
course, that this never appeared on ASR before.
*RPG*
SD 90313.0502
-----------------
Murray's quarters
-----------------
MD 3.0000
Anne lay awake, still thinking about the meeting with the Second
Officer and the Chief Security Officer. Though she had put up a good
front, she was feeling extremely inadequate and insecure. She could put
up with Commander th'Tellan's brusqueness; that was her own trademark, too,
after all. What she couldn't deal with was the feeling that she was
incompetent, that she didn't know what was good for her department
(translation: she didn't know what was good for herself, either). The whole
incident had sounded more like a scolding than anything else, and that made
her feel like a disobedient child... not a feeling she enjoyed.
As she buried her head under her blankets, Anne recalled the last
time she had felt like a small child...
<>
-----------------------------------
USS BELLEROPHON, Counselor's Office
-----------------------------------
Time: 1200
"Please, Anne, have a seat." Mallory indicated the seat across
from his. He had put his PADD away, just as he always did before their
sessions. Anne had been half-hoping that this session might be
recorded; after all, it *was* a required evaluation... Then, at least, it
would be on record; she could report him if she wished. And if he put on
a good front for the recorders, well, then she would escape unscathed
this time. Unfortunately, the recorders were all turned off, the red
lights with "unit standby" written under them flashing.
At 80 inches, Mallory was the one member of the senior staff who
towered over Anne; and he was standing now, waiting for her to sit down.
Anne reluctantly took the indicated chair, perching at the edge of it, her
posture ramrod straight.
"You look very tense today, Anne," said the Counselor in his most
soothing voice, a voice he hardly used with any of the other crew members.
It wasn't a tone of voice one used with adults. "Are you going to need help
relaxing again?"
Anne shook her head, her cheeks a bright pink. No matter how many
times she told herself that Mallory's treatment of her was abnormal, she
always found herself blaming herself for the aberrations. Now, she
forced herself to look at him. She needed to be convincing, and one
couldn't be convincing looking down at the floor.
"Mr. Mallory," she said, her voice as cold and formal as she
could make it, "please let's just get this done and over with. I have
work to do." As if to make her point, she picked up the briefcase she had
brought with her.
"Put the briefcase down, Anne," said Mallory, his voice a soft purr.
"Put it down, like a good girl."
"Mr. Mallory!" Anne cried in indignation. There he was again,
addressing her as if she were a child.
"Go on, Anne, behave yourself." Mallory reached over toward her
briefcase. Anne drew back instinctively. "You're scared of me, aren't
you, Anne? But you don't have to be." His voice was as hypnotic as it
was condescending. "Give me your briefcase, Anne. You won't need that here."
"No, Mr. Mallory, I'll keep it." Anne tried to force steel into
her voice, but it sounded just as frightened and uncomfortable as she felt.
"Don't be scared, Anne." Mallory covered the space between their
chairs in a blink of an eye. He took the briefcase away from her and
took her hands in his. "Look at me, Anne... come on, look."
Anne hated it when he started in on that. She wasn't some child
in a behavior modification program, for crying out loud. She shook her
head, deliberately looking the other way.
"No, Anne, I want you to look *this* way." Mallory grasped her by
the chin and forced her to face him, tilting her head so that she was
looking right into his eyes. "There, that's good. I'm going to let go
now, Anne. I want you to keep looking at me."
As soon as he let go, Anne stood up abruptly. She knew that she
wouldn't be able to stand much more of Mallory's ministrations. She
couldn't speak; she was too close to tears.
"Sit down, Anne." Mallory gripped her shoulders, pushing down.
His voice was soft but firm, the tone of a parent scolding an errant
child. "Sit."
"Let go of me, Mr. Mallory," demanded Anne, her voice barely
above a whisper. "You have no right to touch me this way."
"But I do, Anne, I do." Mallory stood behind her, his hands
resting firmly on her shoulders. No matter how hard Anne tried to act
professional, Mallory treated her as if she were a very uncooperative
little girl. "You don't seem to understand that I'm here to help you," he
continued, beginning to stroke her curls. "If that means I have to touch you,
then I will."
"You're not helping at all, Mr. Mallory," said Anne angrily,
trying to get away from his caresses. "I need to get back to work."
"Hush, Anne. You're too tense."
Anne knew what was coming next. She tried to jump up, but
Mallory hadn't spent enormous amounts of time with her for nothing. He
was already anticipating her movement, pressing down on her shoulders
with all his strength. Anne gave up, too miserable to keep fighting. A
second later, she felt his strong fingers digging into her shoulders.
"There, don't you feel all that tension in your shoulders?" cooed
Mallory. "No wonder you can't talk about your feelings. You have them
all stored up here."
"Stop it, Mr. Mallory." Anne wasn't fond of physical contact in
any case, and Mallory's brand of contact was one she could do without.
"We have an interview to finish."
"Yes, we do, Anne," said Mallory, his voice dripping with
saccharine. "Are you ready to tell me all about your special school now?"
"What does that have to do with crew evaluations?" demanded Anne.
"Why, everything, Anne. Everything is connected to everything
else." Mallory gave her shoulders several more squeezes. "There, that's
much better," he pronounced. "Let's see about your arms..."
"No, we will *not*!" shrieked Anne, her composure shattering in
one magnificent crash. "You leave me alone, Kevin Mallory!" she sobbed,
lashing out at him wildly. "Just leave me *alone*!"
Mallory grinned, his mission accomplished. He grasped her hands long
enough to stop her blind flailing, then let go. Once Anne lost her
emotional control, she lost everything. She would be as wax in his hands.
"If I leave you alone, Anne, you won't be able to deal with all
the ups and downs of life," he informed her. "You've spent your entire
childhood in one institution or other, in special classes for special
children. You're not ready to live a normal adult life."
Anne barely heard him; her only objective was to keep him from
touching her again.
"Now, Anne, I think you're too upset right now for our interview
to be of any use," said Mallory in his gentlest voice. "Let's
reschedule, okay? We'll do the interview tomorrow."
"Don't touch me," whimpered Anne, her eyes studying him
fearfully. "Just don't touch me."
"All right, Anne, I won't touch you." Mallory stood up slowly,
motioning for Anne to stand up also. "Now you go to your quarters and
rest. You're very worked up. Okay? Will you do that?"
Anne hesitated, a memory of something fluttering in her mind.
Wasn't there something she should be doing, now that the interview was
over...?
Mallory noted her hesitation, and he seized upon it quickly.
"I'll just walk you to your quarters, Anne," he said in his
calming-down-a-little-girl voice. "I won't touch you, I promise," he added
reassuringly. "Okay?"
Anne nodded, and she let Mallory walk her back to her quarters.
<>
-----------------
Murray's quarters
-----------------
MD 3.0005
As if she were some child, thought Anne miserably, drying her
eyes on her blanket. She had let Mallory wind her up like a toy every
single time. And now that she was free of him, what was she doing?
Getting herself into more trouble, looking just as incompetent and
helpless as the little girl that Mallory had forced her to become whenever
they had met. She would have to get over it somehow. To leave the ship
and its Counselor behind.
Think about the *now*, Anne told herself. Think about the new
people, the new ship, the new responsibilities. No *child* could handle
an entire Science Department. Yes, her drill had been unauthorized and a
failure; yes, she had antagonized the Second Officer. But she had also
met Catherine Ledoux, a sympathetic and sincere person. Then there was
Ensign Keyrin, her energy and determination permeating every aspect of
her being. The Captain had yet to throw her off the bridge, and the
First Officer had been most friendly at the dinner last night. The
Counselor... well, at least she was female; and she was certainly an
improvement over Kevin Mallory.
As she buried her head in her pillow, Anne realized that she was
now, truly, grown up. She was a senior officer; the youngest, perhaps,
but a senior officer nonetheless. She would prove Mallory wrong. She
would prove to herself that she could lead a normal adult life.
With that comforting, if ambitious, thought, Anne fell asleep.
Respectfully submitted,
Masako Goto
Lt. Anne Murray, Ph.D.
CSciO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813
*NRPG*
If you have read through this entire message, I commend you and give to
you my thanks.
Amy, Takako: So... does Anne get a pink slip? If she does, she'll never
forgive me... :(
Melvin, James: Please don't take her attitude personally. She's scared
of the Second Officer now, and she was suspicious of the
Counselor even before she knew who it would be.
Lynnaea: Ummm... *too much* GCD, d'you think???
Chris: If Anne ever tells Catherine *that* stuff, you can bet that they'll
probably be friends for life! :)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thought for the Day: How do traffic lights work?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Go to messages for
March 1997 or Main Archive Page