NCC - 81102
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No Scrubs

Posted on Tue Mar 2nd, 2021 @ 11:47pm by Ensign Clarice Pichette

Mission: What Came Before
Location: Clary's quarters
Timeline: MD 0

Clary had never served on a starship before. Oh, she'd toured one before as a cadet, but that hardly counted. Her senior cruise was more of a boring layover at an outpost not large enough to be called a starbase. And, when she graduated, she'd been stuck there.

Somehow she'd managed to impress enough people that she got assigned to this prestigious vessel. It might be too much to hope that it was the Tavis Inahri who'd taken notice of her, but Clary refused to flatter herself. Rumors from drydock said it was completely overhauled from the previous run, which was exciting enough without demanding sempai's notice.

Even though Clary was only acting Chief Science Officer, she was still technically the first to serve in the department. Not bad for an ensign who may have otherwise been passed over for promotion. And... she was going to serve directly under sempai. It was like a dream come true!

After spending 12 straight hours going over every square inch of the place, Clary had fallen asleep in the science chief's office. When she woke up, it was 07.50, and that was bad news because she had a prompt meeting with the commanding officer in...

HALF AN HOUR!!!

Clary let out an abrupt squeal and ran back to her quarters as fast as her doll-like feet could carry her.

Dirty uniform. No good. She peeled it off on the way to the sonic shower, though the effort left her hopping on one foot as the jacket got wrapped over her head.

"Computer! Prep sonic shower!"

The computer warbled its acknowledgement even as Clary nearly fell onto the wash sink.

By the time she finally climbed into the sonic shower, it was already humming the start of its cycle. She'd run as fast as she could, but would she be late? Her heart began to pound. Being late with her first meeting with the captain would not do at all.

The bass pulse of the sonic shower almost made a rhythm in Clary's mind. Combined with her mounting nervousness, she did what she often did when under stress. She broke out into song.

"A scrub is a guy that thinks he's fly
He's also known as a busta
Always talkin' about what he wants
And just sits on his broke...ass...
"

Clary hesitated before saying "ass" which she always considered a curse word, but she didn't miss more than a beat.

"So no, I don't want your number
No, I don't want to give you mine and
No, I don't want to meet you nowhere
No, I don't want none of your time and--
"

Taking a deep breath, Clary closed her eyes and belted out the chorus.

"No, I don't want no scrubs!
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me!
Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride
Trying to holla at me!
I don't want no scrubs!
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me!
Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride
Trying to holla at me!
"

Nearly out of breath, as she had sang the entire chorus on only one, Clary laughed as she caught her wind back. The sonic shower was beginning to cycle down, but the rhythm was still there in Clary's mind. Filled with more confidence, she belted out the next verse.

"Well a scrub checkin' me, but his game is kinda weak
And I know that he cannot approach me
'Cause I'm looking like class and he's looking like trash
Can't get wit' a deadbeat ASS!
"

She giggled at her exuberant and triumphant shout and went through another round of the chorus on her way to her bedroom. One hand waved over her head in time with the melody.

"So no, I don't want your number
No, I don't want to give you mine and
No, I don't want to meet you nowhere
No, I don't want none of your time and
--"

Who in the world put that water bottle there? Clary slipped on it and fell headlong onto her bed. The impact sent her flopping around like a fish in a fryer. Somehow she found her balance, but not before one of her flailing limbs had knocked over her nightstand.

"No!" she screamed as she rushed to her bedside to clean up the mess.

There had been few items on display. Most prominently was a portrait of Tavis, likely taken directly from his Starfleet profile, inside an old-fashioned 8x11 frame. On closer inspection, the frame had not cracked.

"Oh, Tavis!"

Clary hugged the picture to her chest and rocked it like the beloved keepsake it was.

The time!

Clary squealed again. She had mere minutes to dress herself and get to Tavis' office. She jumped into her uniform -- literally, she jumped in no fewer than three circles as she fought to get her arms and legs where they needed to be -- and ran for the door. A messy bun would have to do for today, as she had time for nothing else.

When she exited her quarters, she had left her inner sanctum and entered the wider world. It always gave her pause, forcing her to stop and rekindle her fire to move forward.

But her song from the shower was still lingering in the back of her head. At first, she only bobbed her head, but soon she was running along as hastily as was proper. The slight skip in her step maintained the rhythm she'd taken from the sonic shower. Soon the humming turned to audible lyrics that progressed to a full rendition by the time she reached Tavis' office.

"No, I don't want no scrubs
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me!
Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride
Trying to holla at me!
I don't want no scrubs -- NO SCRUBS!
A scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me!
Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride
Trying to holla at me!
"

 

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