An Interesting Man and A Dangerous Girl
Posted on September 11th, 1999 by Alastair Struan and Catie MacGregor

An Interesting Man

Catie MacGregor stuck her curly red head out the door of the transporter room. She’d never manage to get her two bags to her quarters alone. The books by themselves weighed more than she did. “Ne’er a man around when ya need one,” she sighed, stepping back into the transporter room. She had leaned over to try and get hold of the two bags when she felt someone run into her. “Would ye mind watching…” she trailed off as she turned and was caught by a pair of jade green eyes.

“Lockhe …” His words trailed off and Catie decided she liked his grin as he flashed it at her. “I don’t think I’ve e’er see you on board before.”

“You’d be right. Do you know all the females onboard?” Even though the Atlantis wasn’t the biggest ship in Fleet, there must be dozens of unattached females onboard. She strolled around him, feeling like teasing this man for some reason. “Hmm, ” she mused quietly. He dressed comfortably, but there wasn’t any indication of who or what he was. “No rank to address you by.”

“Lieutenant Alastair Struan at your service, my lady,” he said with a laugh. “As to knowing all the ladies …” There was that grin again. Very nice. “I talk to everyone.”

Catie held out her hand, noting that his was warm and the grip firm. “Catie MacGregor, ship’s counselor.”

“Oh? The onboard shrink,” he said as he shook her hand.

She felt herself bristle a bit, but kept her facial reaction to a mere lift of the brow. She hated that term. “Is that quaint term still about? I’d thought civilized beings had discarded it years ago.” He was much taller than she over six feet she figured. Always having felt at a disadvantage for being short, she felt the need to tease him again. “Though men do seem to lag behind women when it comes to being civilized.”

“I may lag behind your alien kind, but if I heard you correctly you still need a man to help you carry those bags. Being a civilized gentleman, I am at your service, my lady.” The bow was slight, but enough to make Catie laugh to herself again. She’d thought her father was the only man to still bow to a woman, then she caught the smirk on his face.

“I would be delighted if you would help me, Lieutenant Alastair Struan,” she replied, matching her tone to his. “Struan, Struan … you wouldn’t be Scottish now would ya, lad?”

“Aye, I would be,” he replied, picking up the larger of the two bags. Catie bit her lip to keep from laughing as he tried to heft the bag. “What’s in this bloody thing?” she heard him mutter and thought it served him right for smirking at her earlier. If he had asked, she could have told him exactly how heavy the bag was.

“I brought my library with me.” She lifted the other bag and slipped the strap over her shoulder.

“Heavy reader? We uncivilized types don’t do much of that.”

So he could thrust and parry, could he? “Why do I have a feeling I’m going to live to regret ever making that comment? I suppose you could call me that.” Despite his teasing words and sure manner, Catie could sense a certain puzzlement from him. Too bad he didn’t know that most men didn’t understand women, might make him feel better. “The ones in there are the prizes of my collection,” she admitted. She walked past him and headed into the corridor, turning toward her quarters assignment. Shakespeare, Conan Doyle, Frost and other ancient Terran authors … these were her favorites. “What exactly is it that you uncivilized types like to do?” she asked, hoping her tone was just disinterested enough.

“I don’t have much of a choice. Shift. Eat. Liberty. Sleep. Repeat.” Sounded as if he was reciting a carefully memorized list. She seriously doubted if he was as uninteresting as that.

“You’d be the one I was interested in, aye.” She couldn’t help looking at him again, her eyes noting the way he carried himself. Must work out, she surmised. She also noticed him growing uncomfortable.

“The one you’re interested in, eh?” Definitely uncomfortable. What did he think she wanted? She supposed she could read him and find out, but that wasn’t her style. Not off duty. It always took time for people to learn that about her though. They always assumed that she used her telepathy to study them, pick apart their feelings and thoughts.

“Currently, aye. You never know when that might change.” There was a double edge to that.

“Look, lass, don’t be so cryptic around me.” She saw the small glance her direction. “And playing all those mind games that counselors do. Now where are we headed with these prized books of yours?”

Cryptic, was she? She stopped walking. Well, fine. Turning to look him in the eye, even though she had to look up to do so, “All right, blunt spoken you want, blunt you shall get, but don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”

“I didn’t really mean that.” He looked as if he wanted to snatch his previous statement out of the air and Catie felt a bit of pity soften her.

“Don’t look like such a frightened fawn,” she said. “I don’t bite. I was merely expressing an interest in a new crewmate.” She grinned at him. He really was much too cute when he wasn’t worried about what she might be doing. “Thought you might be up for a game in the holodeck. If you’re not worried about being beaten.”

“Ne’er worried about that. I think that sounds just fine. What game do you play?”

She thought quickly. “You ever play beach volleyball on Terra? One on one?” It was one of her favorite occupations off duty. She loved the beach.

“When I was in the Academy. Nowadays, I play just about anything.”

Anything. Catie’s mind made an immediate jump to places she had no right to. She almost suggested another game, but admonished herself very softly, “Catie, keep your mind where it belongs.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

“If there’s something else you’d rather play, I’m game,” she covered. “If I don’t know it, I’m a quick study.” She had a competitive streak. Always had.

Suddenly there was a red and white, black banded sphere in his hand. “You ever see this? It’s a new fad I picked up on Earth, called a Pokemon.”

Pokemon? “I don’t believe I have, but if you can play it, so can I.” She tried to watch both the sphere and him. Feeling stupid was another thing she hated. She’d learn the game no matter how long it took her.

“It’s got a holomatrix that represents,” he was saying, but then stopped and just tossed the ball up and down a couple of times.

The eagerness in his voice was easy to read. He liked explaining things, figuring things out. “Please, go ahead, just heft that bag and talk while we walk. It should be around the corner.”

“There’s a holographic creature in this ball,” he began. “Most of the crew plays it during liberty hours. It’s much easier to do than breaking out bathing suits for beach volleyball.”

Easier and safer. “A holographic creature? Inside that thing?” The engineering involved must be interesting. She studied the ball, looking for the control center.

“Aye.”

He looked wary again as if he was afraid she was going to take his new toy. Giving him an apologetic smile she explained, “I’m curious. A fatal trait I’m afraid and one I’m blessed, or cursed depending on your point of view, with much too much of.”

“About the creature inside?”

“Are ye deaf?” What on earth did he think she was curious about? “Yes,” she laughed, “about the creature and about how to play the bloody game.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not real. It’s an artificial life object, born and bred in a computer. The game is simple. You teach it how to fight. That’s also what us barbaric types do with our free time.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, trying to stay ahead of him so he wouldn’t see. Did he think she was daft enough to have thought there was a real creature inside that thing? What kind of females did they have on this ship? “I think I could manage to learn the game well enough to give you a run.”

He tucked the ball back into his pocket. “It’s a relatively new fad. I only started playing a week ago.”

There they were. She stopped in front of the door to her new quarters. “Here we are.” She turned and looked at him, marveling again in those green eyes and giving him her best, most charming smile. “Then it won’t take me long to catch up with you. Good.” If she could keep up with him, perhaps he’d forget to be worried and actually notice her. She deactivated the door lock and let it slide open.

He set the books inside. “Aye, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Most people tend to give up though. You look the type of person who could care for something deeply.”

She caught the sarcasm. So he didn’t think she cared about anything. Great. What had she done to give him that impression. “I’m stubborn as well as curious.”

“Too stubborn and you could kill this little thing in tha’ ball.”

“And I do care.”

“That’s good. You sound like a better shrink than I’ve had the honor of meeting before.”

Evidently his opinions of counselors must be pretty low. She’d just have to show him she wasn’t like any female he’d met before. “I’m part Betazoid. Perhaps that makes me different.” Wrong thing to say, Catie. He looked as if he was about to have a heart attack. That clinched it. He’d assumed the same as a multitude of others. “I’ll get myself one of those and practice, if you promise to have dinner with me after our game.”

“Aye,” he said after a moment. “One question … ”

She hadn’t scared him enough to keep him from agreeing to dinner. Good sign. “You may ask all you wish,” she answered, laughing softly.

“Ne’ermind, that’s a bloody foolish question to ask,” he replied after another pause. “It was nice to meet you, Catie. Glad I could be of service, but I need to be going.”

She watched him start to move away. “Now you can’t possibly leave without asking. I’ll die of curiousity.”

“Then you’ll just have to suffer. Till later.” He vanished around the corner, leaving Catie standing there, both frustrated and delighted. “Tis an interesting place you’ve been assigned to, Catie lass.”

 

A Dangerous Girl

Dressed in an untucked shirt, slacks, shoes, and a beat up leather jacket, Alastair walked down the hallway holding his duffel bag whistling a tune, one he could never understand like much of the mystery that surrounded him. His father or grandfather never taught him to whistle, nor sung any songs of the like. It came one day, but with harmonious heavenly cords and his feeble whistling, no matter how good, could never match what he had heard in his head and felt through his body. He remembered plunging with sudden speed into the music, and pleasure flowing through his every particle of being until finding himself violently jerked out of it. Or was that his doing? The memories had faded long ago but the melody stayed with him.

He took his time walking down Avisyard’s richly textured hallway whistling that angelic tune. His jade jewel eyes cast over everything that was the history of the Struan family, the tapestries, portraits, and white marble busts. It would be a long while before he saw home again and leaving it never seemed easy, but once he was away, he would be alright, engrossed in his life away from home. He had only walked the castle a few days, a memorable few days. The secrets he had uncovered. He shook his head having the images flash back through the projector in his mind and grinned half out of embarrassment. Stepping into the transporter room, he tried to wipe them away at least throw them into the background. New things awaited him. With a bright shimmer he was gone from Avisyard and returned to the decks of the USS Atlantis.

“Ne’er a man around when ya need one,” came a voice as Struan appeared on the transporter pad. He picked up his whistling again and stepped off heading for the door, but planted his feet into the deck as he bumped into a hunched figure. At first it looked like; it could not have been-

“Lockhe-” Struan slipped from his mouth and stopped. Janice this girl was definitely not.

“Would ye mind watchin-” the voice said at the same time but stopped with his as the figure met him at eye level.

“I don’t think I’ve e’er seen you onboard before,” Alastair said.

“You’d be right,” she said with a musical laugh. “Do you know all the females onboard? Hmm-” She circled him, her eyes probing him like a vulture looking for dinner. She definitely seemed the dangerous type. “No rank to address you by.”

Alastair studied her up and down. She wore a pair of flats, a long crinkle cotton skirt, and a clinging sleeveless top. Her curly hair was bunched with a band behind her head with loose curled locks exploding out in every direction. Janice would never be caught dead dressed like that. This girl’s eyes were deep pools of blue, like the ocean depths and not brown puppy dog eyes. Either way he was being drowned in their eyes, in the eyes of all women. He grinned. Not a bad thing. “Lieutenant Alastair Struan at your service, my lady.” He said whimsically with a grin and extended his hand. Why did he feel that he would be eating those words later? “Course, I know all the ladies. I talk with everyone onboard-”

“Catie MacGregor, ship’s counselor,” Catie said taking his hand.

“Oh? The onboard shrink,” Struan said as he slipped his hand away from her. A very dangerous woman; she would definitely have tricks hidden beneath those curling tendrails of hair and every word she spoke would mean another and his words would be picked to pieces like ducks going after a slice of bread. Well, all women were like that, but a counselor made it twice as bad.

“Is that quaint term still about? I’d thought civilized beings had discarded it years ago,” she said. “Though men do seem to lag behind women when it comes to being civilized.”

“I may lag behind your alien kind, but if I heard you correctly you still need a man to help you carry those bags. Being a civilized gentleman, I am at your service, my lady, ” Alastair said bowing slightly and smirking.

“I would be delighted if you would help me, Lieutenant Alastair Struan,” she replied in the same facetious manner and allowed him to her bags. “Struan, Struan, you wouldn’t be Scottish now would ya, lad?” She added with a grin.

“Aye I would be,” Alastair said taking up one of her suitcases. Pulling it up nearly yanked his arm from its socket and it fell against him like a massive brick. “What’s in this bloody thing?” he muttered to himself. To late to take his words back now.

“I brought my library with me,” Catie said taking up another of her own bags.

“Heavy reader? We uncivilized types don’t do much of that.”

“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to live to regret ever making that comment?” Catie said with a laugh and smile. “I suppose you could call me that. The ones in there are the prizes of my collection,” she said. The movements and shuffling from within the suitcase sounded like large textbooks, the ones only a shrink – counselor – could love. He loved books too, but there was no room to carry them when one had to travel light and live even lighter. She passed him by quickly and entered into the corridor on her way to her quarters. Alastair shifted his weight to one side to balance his duffel and her bag and pursued her. “What exactly is it that you uncivilized types like to do?” She continued without even looking in his direction.

Alastair chuckled to himself. “I don’t have much of a choice. Shift. Eat. Liberty. Sleep. Repeat.” He wondered if it came to a shock to her, her eyes and expression said nothing, but she appeared new to starship life and things were different than a ground post. She would have to forgo whatever plush and cushiness she was used to with all her books and framed diplomas and live in the sometimes cramped habitat Atlantis offered.

“You’d be the one I was interested in, aye,” she said studying him again. Those stark blue eyes studied him again. Where did that come from? Was she talking with herself? Alastair could feel himself hot under the collar and need to discard his beat up jacket. You never wanted the sea to come to you; you always wanted to go to the sea. He had read somewhere. Girls who drowned men with their eyes were trouble, trouble Alastair did not need.

“The one you’re interested in, eh?” Alastair said. Definitely trouble. She was trying to throw him off balance mentally and see what she could pull from his mind probably taking him apart piece by piece as they walked.

“Currently, aye. You never know when that might change,” she said. Struan could catch her smirk from the corner of his eye.

“Look lass, don’t be so cryptic around me,” Struan said. Women were cryptic and unreadable at times, but Lockheart and this girl, Catie whatever her last name was…their statements almost incoherent at times. He should have asked his father; he knew a great deal. He could still ask Seal. He had a matter-of-factness about Janice and he would definitely be able to bright the light into the darkness. “And playing all those mind games that counselors do,” he added. Now where are we headed with these prized books of yours?”

Catie stopped immediately turning to meet him eye to eye. A girl who could match wit for wit was dangerous, and she proved herself to be the queen. “All right, blunt spoken you want, blunt you shall get, but don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”

“I don’t really mean that,” Struan said covering his words. It was easier talking to those ladies who never tried to pick one’s brain apart. Damn! He wished he could handle women. His father could handle all types without breaking a sweat or a flush face.

“Don’t look like such a frightened fawn,” Catie said. “I don’t bite. I was merely expressing an interest in a new crewmate.” She grinned. “Thought you might be up for a game in the holodeck. If you’re not worried about being beaten.”

“Ne’er worried about that. I think that sounds just fine. What game do you play?”

“You ever play beach volleyball on Terra? One on one.”

“When I was in the Academy. Nowadays, I play just about anything.” Alastair snuck another look in her direction and caught her lips moving but the words came out muffled and for her own ears. “Hmm? What was that?”

“If there’s something else you’d rather play, I’m game. If I don’t know it; I’m a quick learner,” she said. There was that knife edge look and smile again. She meant to beat him. There were many games he could play, just that he did not want to play them when there was work to be done, but on Earth he had been introduced to a new game. Using a trick his grandfather had taught him, he pulled a red and white, black banded sphere out of the thin air.

“You ever see this? It’s a new fad I picked up on Earth, called a Pokemon.” An old schoolmate had passed him one of these while on his stay at Avisyard. Alastair only played it once and it proved difficult. In the holodeck in his home he materialized the creature inside, a butterfly a third of his size that did nothing more than fly around in circles whining unintelligibly. If this girl wanted to play games, at least they would be fighting on the same level.

“I don’t believe I have, but if you can play it, so can I,” Catie said, her eyes half studying the ball and Alastair.

“It’s got a holomatrix that represents-” Alastair plugged his tongue and tossed the ball up and down. He was sure by now that most people, especially the commander and captain, were uninterested in hearing his explanations no matter how fascinating he thought them to be.

“Please go ahead, just heft that bag and talk while we walk. It should be around the corner.”

“There’s a holographic creature in this ball,” Struan said. “Most of the crew plays it during liberty hours. It’s much easier to do than breaking out bathing suits for beach volleyball.”

“A holographic creature? Inside that thing?” She said, her eyes studying the ball; she looked ready to grab it from his hands to examine it up close.

“Aye.”

She gave him an apologetic look and rounded the corner. “I’m curious. A fatal trait, I’m afraid, and one I’m blessed or cursed depending on your point of view, with much too much of,” she said spinning the words off her tongue deftly. Blessed was more like it, but he was the cursed one.

“About the creature inside?” Alastair asked.

“Are ye deaf?” She laughed. “Yes, about the creature and about how to play the bloody game.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not real. It’s an artificial life object, born and bred in a computer. The game is simple. You teach it how to fight. That’s also what us barbaric types do with our free time.” Alastair grinned. No, he was no going to let her forget that. Catie only shook her head as she lead him down the corridor. Alastair was sure he could see her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Just what he needed another girl in his life with attitude.

“I think I could manage to learn the game well enough to give you a run,” she said. Struan looked at the ball one last time and replaced it into his pocket.

“It’s a relatively new fad. I only started playing a week ago.” He had not the slightest clue how to play, but the creature – a Butterfree, his friend called it – followed none of his commands and flew in circles moaning depressingly.

“Here we are,” she said stopping. Alastair looked her eye to eye, those blue gems dazzling. Him and his big mouth. There would be no problem if he just kept to himself.

“Then it won’t take me long to catch up with you. Good.” Alastair could see a smirk again. Those eyes twinkled. Why was she out to get him? They had only met ten minutes ago and she looked to be plotting his death. Did she really have something to prove? The doors hissed opened and Alastair set the books onto the deck.

“Aye. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Most people tend to give up though. You look like the type of person who could care for something deeply,” Alastair said with hidden sarcasm. That was the golden rule of the game, to show the creature respect and friendship or it would disobey every word said. Sure, he still needed work in that department, but he was sure this girl could never get it work. Her haughtiness and sharp tongue would probably have the creature turn on her. Counselors were like that, arrogant know-it-alls, but she could be playful too, he reminded himself.

“I’m stubborn as well as curious,” she said.

“To stubborn and you could kill this little thing in tha’ ball,” Struan said. She only gave him a blank stare as if not understanding. He had learned it the hard way, but eventually soothed the Butterfree.

“I do care, I mean,” she said.

“That’s good. You sound like a better shrink then I’ve had the honor of meeting before.”

“I’m part Betazoid. Perhaps that makes me different.” Struan almost choked. Damn these women! Part Betazoid? Was she reading his mind the entire time? This was just as bad as learning that Lockheart had been his babysitter so many years ago. And she- he did not want to think about it. “I’ll get myself one of those and practice, if you promise to have dinner with me after our game.” The matter-of-factness took him back. He was used to asking the girls, not the other way around, but she was different. Direct and to the point like a skilled archer.

“Aye, all right,” Struan said. “One question-”

“You may ask all you wish,” Catie said adding in her musical laugh at the end.

“Ne’ermind, that’s a bloody foolish question to ask,” Alastair said after a momentary pause. “It was nice to meet you, Catie. Glad I could be of service, but I need to be going.” Alastair stepped away quickly.

“Now you can’t possibly leave without asking. I’ll die of curiosity,” Catie called after him.

“Then you’ll just have to suffer. Till later,” Alastair said and whipped his way around the corner. He grinned to himself, at least he scored one point against her wit. The girl would be trouble and if his tongue could move faster he could match her point for point. She had an attitude that needed to be adjusted and he would fix that. If he had just kept his mouth shut none of would be his problem. Which was better? With a shrug to himself he began to whistle again. He peeked over his shoulder once reaching the next T-section for a glimpse to see if she was spying on him from behind the wall like Lockheart, but the corridor was empty all the way down.