Passing Notes
Passing Notes
Summary: Zaharis breaks another heart.
Date: 123 ACH
Related Logs: Related Logs None

Sickbay is always busy, it seems and today is no exception. D'Artanion walks into the room with a clipboard beneath her arm and a purposful air about her. Her gaze flickers about briefly as though seeking someone. When she does not see the person she seeks, she angles toward the duty board and gives it a once over. Softly, she sighs, "Frak." Clearly, the person she is looking for is not on duty.

Tais is seated at one of the desks, a stack of charts before her. At the whispered, "Frak," her framed eyes lift to the gunnery sgt, an amused smile on her face before continuing to chart patients progress.

Feeling the eyes on her, D'Artanion turns to glance over her shoulder. Spotting the doctor, she clears her throat, "Uh. Sorry, Lieutenant." Lifting a hand, she salutes, the gesture crisp and clean, "Have you seen Ensign Sullivan, by any chance, sir?"

Tais's pen is suspended above the surface of a chart, "Last I saw, she was in the Bio Lab. I've not seen her since." Pushing her glasses further on the bridge of her nose she queries, "Is there a message I can pass on?"

Tais's resultant salute is neither crisp nor clean, the end of her pen doing the honors.

D'Artanion lowers her salute once Tais' pen lowers and she nods, "Thank you, sir. I can check there." Shifting her clipboard to her hand, D'Artanion glances at it, then looks up again and slowly shakes her head, "Oh, no. But, thank you. Major Zaharis sent one to each of us so I am sure that we will run into each other in no time. The Ensign is nothing if not efficient."

Tais's brows lift slightly, her entire focus now trained on the gunny. "One of…what to each of you?

D'Artanion shakes her head once, a blush lifting to color her cheeks, "Oh, goodness. Excuse me, Lieutenant. A message. Er… A note." Her free hand lifts to gesture slightly before she tucks it into her pocket almost resolutely, "Pardon me. I do not usually skip words like that."

Tais leans forward, her elbow now resting atop the desk, chin lain upon the upturned palm, "Is the note secret?" There is a hint of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

D'Artanion blinks, the slight teasing tone clearly disconcerting, "No, sir. Not at all. I just did not wish to pester you with something that I can manage myself." The blush that began deepens slowly to crimson and, while she does not fade back at all, the gaze she focuses upon you is just a hair suspicious.

Tais elicits a slight chuckle, lifting her head, returning her hand to the chart before her, "Just let me know if there's something I can help with, or if I can somehow run interference in the pursuit of finding your answer. And tell the CMO not to leave me out when passing out notes."

D'Artanion clears her throat a little, her glance flickering to the closed door to the CMO's office, "Uh… Thanks, sir. He just asked us to coordinate a resupply of the Deck's first aid stations. And…" Then she looks back again and where her expression was fairly open and lively, if guarded, it is now utterly blank, "Forgive me, Lieutenant, but I am the last person in the fleet to ask about the CMO. He and I are not exactly on the best of terms." When she smiles again, her expression is very briefly filled with a deep regret.

Tais returns to her previous stance, chin in hand as she observes the Gunnery Sergeant. "I wouldn't be too concerned about the CMO. I think everyone, at some time or other has been on the outs with him, but its how you continue. If you always defer to him, or show that you're scared of him, well, that'll just reinforce his behaviour. Push back a little or ignore his disposition, then you'll be fine."

D'Artanion half smiles, "So I've heard, Lieutenant. And, I've tried that. All it's gotten me is summarily dismissed. I doubt that the Major and I will ever get beyond it, frankly." She inclines her head toward the door, "And, as I have tried? It is his turn." She pauses a little, then looks back, "Though honestly? I doubt that he'll make the effort. I'm not Navy, sir. So, he does not have to care." Lifting her hand, she salutes once more, though the effort to try to hide the shimmer in her eyes and the flush to her cheeks is somewhat costly, "If you will excuse me, sir? I need to try to catch the Ensign."

Tais nods once, another lift of her eye brow at the comment about not caring. "See you around, Gunny."

D'Artanion leaves for Corridor 13B [O].

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