Title: Letters to the Psych Ward
Author: Chrysa, Jyorraku
E-Mail: chrysa9@aol.com, jyorraku@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Category: Humor
Codes: ?/S
Summary: Letters from the misfits aboard the NX-01.
*****
-- Incoming Subspace Transmission:
From: NX-01 Enterprise
To: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
Dear Dr. Spock:
I have a problem. Last time I wrote to you, I told you how much I loved the camaraderie aboard the Enterprise. We've gone through thick and thin together. I've gotten to know them so well, we're like a family. Yup, all two hundred of us, and mustn't forget the Captain's cat, Aramis. Someday I will have to ask him why he named him after a Musketeer.
Well, back to my problem. You see, my next-door neighbor, we'll call her She Who Speaks Many Tongues. The thing is, the walls are quite thin aboard the Enterprise. Normal speaking would come across the plating as a soft murmur, and I've managed to filter that out, considering She Who Speaks Many Tongues likes to keep herself in practice--all through the night and even in her sleep. Recently, however, she's had company with her during the nights. I'd like to call him Man of Great Stamina.
It started gradually. First they would talk through the night, but by the time I was accustomed to that, they started doing something completely different. It was quite shocking when I first realized what those noises where! Between She Who Speaks Many Tongues' high screams and Man of Great Stamina's low groans, the wall plating was none too adept at keeping their voices inside her room!
As a result, I've learned more than I need to know from the late night activities of She Who Speaks Many Tongues and Man of Great Stamina. For example, I've learned that She Who Speaks Many Tongues can do more than talk with her mouth, and Man of Great Stamina has a great something else to go with that stamina. Clearly, that is too much information!
I've contemplated on how I should approach this delicate situation. You see, the Man of Great Stamina is an officer of higher rank. And frankly, since I've vicariously learned of his boundless energy, I have no wish to be at the receiving end of his anger should I foul this up. However, I am losing much sleep due to She Who Speaks Many Tongues and Man of Great Stamina's twilight get-togethers. I think my supervising officer has taken note of the decline in my performance.
Therein lies my dilemma. Please, doctor, tell me what I should do!
Signed,
Frustrated Muchly by Thin Walls
- - - - - - - - - -
-- Outgoing Subspace Transmission:
From: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
To: NX-01 Enterprise
Dear Frustrated Muchly by Thin Walls,
Your regular doctor, Squick, not Spock by the way, has been hijacked and taken to the Conference for the Psychological Effects of Repressed Emotions being held on Vulcan. She apparently did not go willingly judging by the destruction in her office. As I type I'm trying to avoid a large coffee spill spreading across the floor. Her kidnappers at least had the foresight to make sure she had a replacement before this wonderful fiasco took place.
Oh...I have been informed that this is usual state of her office. Apparently those anger management courses with Dr. Khan are not having much of an impact.
Let me introduce myself. I am also Dr. Squick. I happen to be your Dr. Squick's grandmother. So I suppose speaking to me is almost the same as speaking to her...only I have about forty or so more years of experience.
My, my you do have a bit of a dilemma don't you? Believe me, I am all for finding love, even in the reaches of deep space, but not at the expense of other crew members sleep cycles. The relaxed regulations concerning crew members becoming romantically involved did not specify anything about loud sex so I'm going to wing this one.
I suggest the tactful approach. One that does not offend your next-door neighbor and will not get you pounded into the pavement by her high-ranking paramour. A polite round about approach should work.
You say she studies many languages? Ask her if she's studying a new language or even a previously learned language i.e. "Hey, (insert crew memember name here) are you studying Klingon late at night? Some of your language lessons are keeping me up."
This lets her know her activities are keeping you up at night and allows her the illusion that you know nothing about what she's really using her tongue for.
You might even suggest using another location for her late night activities. Suggest areas that are deserted at night and have good acoustics like the mess hall or a gym. This way you're the good friend who doesn't want her job to suffer because she can't practice when you're trying to sleep. You're giving her viable alternatives to her quarters. Hopefully, this will get her to persuade her lover to take their activities to his quarters for a few nights during the week.
Upon second thought, I suggest you make a recording of the sounds you hear at night from her quarters and send it to me before going to your neighbor. That way I know the extent of the problem and can make sure I am giving you the proper advice.
Until then, I suggest you invest in earplugs or take up a twilight activity yourself and see who's louder?
A little healthy competition never hurt anyone and it might take care of your frustrations.
Sweet Dreams,
Dr. Squick
- - - - - - - - - -
-- Incoming Subspace Transmission:
From: NX-01 Enterprise
To: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
Dear Dr. Squick:
The recording you requested. To get the full effect try sleeping in the same room with it.
Frustrated
File: Nightsounds
- - - - - - - - - -
-- Outgoing Subspace Transmission:
From: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
To: NX-01 Enterprise
Dear Frustrated:
Take my advice from my last letter.
Then sound proof your quarters.
That file had my dogs howling at the moon!
Dr. Squick
-- End Transmission.
- - - - - - - - - -
-- Incoming Subspace Transmission:
From: NX-01 Enterprise
To: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
Dear Dr. Spank:
I'll cut to the chase. I'm having issues with my superior officer. He--let's call him the Man Formerly Known as Master of His Domain--used to run a tight ship around here. He may be more easygoing off duty but when it comes to his baby, the man doesn't let anything pass him. You'd think this was the problem. Heck no. I love how we all spread like little efficient ants when he starts barking out the orders. Now there's a boss I can learn to respect! He wields that power like a whip and we're all his little bitches. Oh yeah, baby, whoopsh!
But lately--lately, he's always coming into work with that stupid grin on his face. He still gets the job done, and the results are still top rate. But the snap, crackle, and pop are all gone! Last time crewman Smiley Face showed up with his hair all messy like someone had been running fingers through it. SO NOT Starfleet regulation, especially not at the beginning of the shift! The Man Formerly Known as Master of His Domain called Smiley Face into his office, I reckon to give the man a good talking to. But when they came out, the Man Formerly Known as Master of His Domain was patting Smiley Face on the back. They were laughing like they were members of a secret society that only allowed people who woke up with silly grins. Where's the tight ass we all know and love?! Who is this imposter that leaves here on the lunch-hour dot and comes back not a minute before lunch is over, smelling like a girl?! What happened to the man who would come in the middle of the night just to check things over, and over, making sure it's all working just right? The man who taught me to wipe down the equipment in one direction only? The man who taught me dust in unseen places still needs cleaning? Now he's only a shadow of the slave driver I've learned to obey and respect.
Whose chain do I have to yank to get Master back?!
Signed,
Desperately Seeking Discipline
- - - - - - - - - - -
-- Outgoing Subspace Transmission:
From: Starfleet Psychiatry, Counseling Department, Ex: 47
To: NX-01 Enterprise
Dear Desperately Seeking Discipline:
Ten lashes with a wet noodle for getting my name wrong. It's Dr. Squick not Dr. Spank...but oh, that name does bring back some wonderful memories.
Ahem. Memories which we will not get into...ever.
Your regular Dr. Squick has been kidnapped and taken to a seminar on Dr.
Lore's research about the polarity of personalities in identical twins. I'm her grandmother and I'll be filling in for her.
The tight ass you all know and love is in love. And love as we all know has the power to move mountains, survive all manner of disasters and yes, even turn the Master of His Domain into a puddle of goo.
This must be a recent development if he's still coming in with a sappy grin on his face, smelling like his girlfriend and patting similarly affected men on the back. But do not fear this too shall pass as the giddiness of first love eases into a more mature relationship. Your Master of His Domain is still there, he's just getting some right now and that's very distracting.
And a hell of a lot of fun.
It will take a little time and adjustment on everyone's part but he'll be back to his exacting self eventually. Remember: a happy boss is a pleasure to work for.
If they break up, run like hell for the nearest exit.
Until then relax and take a deep breath. If it makes you feel better, it's quite possible he hasn't lost his touch for discipline, but he's just being a little more creative with it if you get my meaning.
Speaking of being creative there are other venues in which you can satisfy your discipline fetish. I'm sure a person with your quick mind and sharp eye for detail can find someone who knows how to wield a whip...literally and/or figuratively. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Discover how creative you can be outside of work. Finding someone that will make you shine their boots for hours with a toothbrush will do wonders for you. Believe me, I know, I've had my boots shined to a high gloss. It's wonderful.
Trust granny on this one, dear. Think all my years of experience are just in psychiatry?
Dr. Squick
Psychiatrist and still a Dominatrix just don't tell my granddaughter.
-- End Transmission
