Dinner with the Madigans

Posted on Wed Aug 11th, 2021 @ 11:58pm by Chief Petty Officer Arlene Madigan & Lieutenant Marc Madigan & Lieutenant Commander Felicie Rivero

Mission: The Archan Job

Marc stepped up to the door of his department head's office, ready to make his arguments and plead his case. He had a good working relationship with his old boss, and he hoped to cultivate that as well with his new boss. The fact that Arlene had put him up to it had nothing to do it.

His hand raised up to the door chime at the entrance to the round office in the center of the security bullpen and pressed the call button. He knew Lt. Commander Rivero was a busy woman, and he didn't wish to take up much of her time. He also didn't want to appear to be someone who was just brown nosing up to the boss, which was not his intent. He just hoped she saw it the same way.

The only time Felicie looked up from the PaDD in her hand was when her gaze darted toward the console on her desk and back to the PaDD. She sighed, leaning back in her seat and running her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and letting out an exasperated groan. She had been reading for so long and cross referencing that she was starting to feel like she was going cross eyed. The sound of the chime was indeed a welcome distraction. "Enter," she called, looking up toward the door. She recognised the face that was waiting as the doors parted, but found herself momentarily struggling to add a name. "Lieutenant, what can I do for you?" she asked, deciding to use his rank instead.

Marc stepped through the now open door and gave a little wave. He decided to hold off on using the formal "boss" designation, at least for now. Marc hadn't know Rivero for that long, which was part of why he was here. "Hello, Commander. I hope I'm not disturbing you." He offered his hand to the police chief. "Marc Madigan, ma'am. I know we've only met a few times. I'm one of your section chiefs, over the Promenade section."

Felicie offered the warmest smile she could muster. "Lieutenant Madigan, how can I help? she asked as she watched him. Clearly he was nervous and that was something that made her twinge. If her staff felt so uncomfortable around her, how could she expect the rest of the crew to accept her? "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, of course, ma'am. Everything is fine," he said, stumbling a bit over his words. "I'll just come out and say what I wanted to say. Your predecessor and I had a pretty good working relationship. We'd often get together off duty for drinks or poker night with some of the other guys." He thought for a moment as he reflected on what he was trying to say. "It's not that we have to have that same relationship, you and I. But just the same, ma'am, my wife and I were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner sometime. Just to make you feel more at home aboard the station."

The invite caught her off guard, especially with how distant the rest of security was treating her in light of events with Von. "Actually, I'd like that very much," she offered a smile. "Thank you. My social calendar is wide open so just let me know when."

"Oh," Madigan replied with a little bit of a shock. He wasn't really expecting it go that easily. "In that case, how about tomorrow night? You like Italian?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Felicie replied with a laugh. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect. How about I bring some wine? I have a few bottles left from Earth."

"That sounds perfect. I'll let Arlene know." Marc started for the door before having another thought. He turned back to Felicie. "Say, 1900 hours?"

"I'm looking forward to it," as she spoke the words Felicie found herself realising how true they actually were. As he started walking away, Felicie watched him for a moment. "Lieutenant," the word was almost hesitant as she spoke. "Thank you, I appreciate it."

Marc turned back around and offered her a slight smile. "You're welcome, boss."

=/\= The Next Evening =/\=

Having showered and changed into casual clothing, Felicie appeared at Marc's quarters, two bottles of wine in hand. It was a few minutes before 1900 hours, but Felicie didn't want to stand in the corridor loitering. Instead, she hit the door chime and waited, hoping they wouldn't be too put out by the fact that she was arriving early.

It only took a moment before the door was opened. A woman around Marc's age answered. "You must be Commander Rivero. Please, come in," she said gesturing behind her as she stepped out of the way. She reached out and offered to take the bottles of wine off Rivero's hands.

"Call me Felicie, please," she smiled as she handed across the wine bottles. "I'm sorry, I'm early. I expected the walk here to take longer and I didn't feel like loitering in the hall. Someone might call security and report me," she quipped as she glanced around the main living area of their quarters. "Thank you, for inviting me. This already beats replicated ramen eaten at my desk," she finished with a laugh.

"Oh, you're fine. What kind of host would we be if we made you wait in the hall." She placed the bottles on the table and gestured towards the living room area of the quarters. "I'm Arlene, Marc's wife. Please, make yourself at home. Marc's still finishing up in the kitchen. He makes a fantastic chicken carbonara. Can I get you anything to drink?"

Felicie was about to respond when the meaning of Arlene's words actually sunk in. "Hang on, he's cooking? Like, actually really cooking? With real food? Over a hotplate?" Her surprise was clear with her response. "Uh, I'm happy to open the wine," she glanced in the direction of the sounds she could hear from another area of their quarters. "But seriously? He's really cooking? I thought you'd just replicate something."

Arlene laughed. "We don't always cook. Most nights we just replicate something too. But on special occasions we'll get out the pots and pans. Is that a problem?" she asked, genuinely started to worry that they somehow offended their guest.

"Not at all..." Felicie bit her bottom lip and laughed nervously. "I'll be honest, I don't think I've ever actually seen anyone really cook on a starbase, or a starship... or, well, probably anywhere for that matter. I guess you've lived here for a while to be so settled in? Marc mentioned earlier that you have entertained a lot?"

Arlene shrugged. "I don't know if I'd say a lot. But we had your predecessor over for dinner a few times. And several of the guys in security would come over for the occasional poker game. Usually I book some time in the holodeck on those nights. I deal with enough macho personalities in the squadron. They're surprisingly arrogant for a bunch of transport pilots." Arlene made her way to the dinning room table. "How about we get started on that wine, shall we?" She uncorked the first bottle and poured a couple of glasses for herself and Rivero, and handed it over before taking a seat on the couch.

Taking first the glass of wine and then a seat, Felicie found herself chuckling a little at the remark. "Oh, trust me, I understand fully," she swirled the wine in the glass before taking a sip. "You're part of the Fighter complement, aren't you?" she asked curiously. "Are they still called Fighters on a star base?"

Arlene nodded as she took a sip of wine. "They are still called Fighters, though my squadron is 'The Express'. We mostly fly the transport ships, ferrying the marines and their equipment around. It's not quite as glamorous as flying the fighters. But we're the workhorses for the airwing."

"That explains the macho personalities," Felicie laughed in response. "So how long have you been on 332 for?"

"I've been here for a few years now. I transferred aboard shortly after the Sojourner bombing. There was a large number of transfers after that. It's been a rough few years, but I can't complain too much. Met my husband here, after all."

Felicie smiled. "That's sweet," she said softly before taking a sip of her drink. "How long have you been married?"

"Two years," Arlene replied. "Though sometimes it feels like longer," she added with a laugh.

"I heard that," Marc interjected from the far said of the room. He laid a big salad bowl and basket of garlic bread on the table. "Good evening, Commander."

Felicie stood up and walked across to the table, snagging an end piece of garlic bread and taking a bite. Once she finished chewing, she raised the remains up and grinned. "Salut," she laughed. "You did good. Want help with anything else?"

"Just make yourself at home. I'll be right out with the rest of it and we can eat." He disappeared back into another part of their quarters. Arlene joined Felicie by the table and poured another glass of wine for her husband before taking a seat. A moment later Marc returned with a big bowl of carbonara, and placed it in an empty space on the table. Finally he took next to his wife. "I'm sorry I was running a little late with dinner. I hope you didn't have to wait long."

"Not at all, besides, I had good company," Felicie replied with a smile. "It all smells amazing. I'm still surprised that you actually cooked, and you didn't burn your quarters down." She laughed. "If I tried cooking we'd probably be evacuating the station by now."

"I wouldn't consider myself a gourmet chef or anything like that. But I enjoy cooking for real for a nice change of pace. I think it tastes better than a replicated meal." Marc took Arlene's salad bowl and started dipping for her before getting his own. "Please, dig in."

Arlene took a bite of her salad before taking a piece of garlic bread. "So how have you liked the station so far?

"It's been... an interesting experience," Felicie replied, helping herself to salad and garlic bread. "It's different, having such a large civilian complement to be concerned about as well."

"It's certainly a different kind of experience from your typical starship assignment," Marc added, taking a bite of his salad. "I like it though. It's nice to not be getting shot at every other day. But the concerns are a lot different. There tends to be a lot fewer incidents of petty theft or bar brawls on a starship. That's for sure."

Felicie nodded. "Absolutely. Having so many civilians onboard who aren't governed by the same rules as officers or crewmen makes for interesting days. It took me two weeks to learn my way from my quarters to my office, but I learned my way to the promenade within the first forty eight hours." She laughed and shook her head. "I think it was day three I spent nearly the whole day on the promenade."

"The promenade is quite the place. It's like a small city surrounded by a city. It really is the best assignment on the station." Marc took a drink of his wine. "And I'm not just saying that because I don't want you to reassign me."

There was a moment of laughter before Felicie shook her head. "Trust me, I have no desire to upset my staff any more than I already have on this station. If staying on the Promenade makes you happy, I'll leave you there."

"I'm glad to hear it," Marc replied with another laugh.

Felicie's hand had been reaching toward the garlic bread to snag another piece when her commbadge chirped, followed quickly by a summons to report to Admiral S'iraa. She sighed softly, hand falling flat on the table, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," she offered with an expression that clearly portrayed her disappointment. "When an Admiral calls..." she left the sentiment unfinished as she pushed her chair back slightly. "Can I at least help tidy up before I leave?"

Marc rose to his feet. "Don't worry about it, Boss. I'd hate for you to be late for a meeting with the admiral. We can clean up here." He offered to walk Rivero to the door while Arlene started gathering their dishes to return them to the replicator. "Just make it up to us by joining us for fajita night next time."

---

Lt. Commander Felicie Rivero
Chief of Security
Starbase 332

Lieutenant Marc Madigan [P: Von]
Section Chief, Promenade
Starbase 332

CPO Arlene Madigan [P: Von]
Transport Pilot
VRC-114 "The Express"
Airwing-17