Temper, Temper

Jilla Majiir sighed. It wasn't the trembling sigh that came from her at letters from Sulu. This was irritated, almost exasperated. Ruth Valley glanced up from her own computer terminal.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Mr. DelMonde has sent new configurations for the intermix matrix," the Indiian replied.

"And it's his usual mish-mash of confusion?" Ruth guessed, grinning.

"I do not understand how an engineer as talented as he is can work with such - disorder," was Jilla's comment.

"It's called intuition," Ruth said as she rose from her seat to lean over Jilla's chair.

"I am not unintuitive," her friend countered with just a touch of annoyance.

Ruth shrugged. "Terran brains work differently than Indiian-filtered-through-Vulcan," she said. "And Del's brain works differently than most Terran ones. Let me take a look at it."

Jilla sighed again and folded her arms, allowing Ruth to read through the specs.

After several minutes, Ruth was chuckling.

"Well?" Jilla finally asked.

"He forgot a few steps," Ruth told her. "That's what I meant by intuitive. He just expects you to understand that this - " she pointed to a particularly pithy sentence. " - follows two or three steps that he didn't bother to put in. Since it's clear that those steps have to come first, he figures he doesn't need to spell them out. It's a 'well, everybody knows that' sort of thing."

The Indiian scowled. "Unfortunately, everybody does not know that," she said. "There will be ensigns looking to these specifications, attempting to learn the new systems on the Nests. If such things are not detailed, how will they ever learn that those certain steps must be taken?"

"You're not writing a training manual, Jilla," Ruth pointed out.

"All design specifications should be written as if they were training manuals," Jilla asserted. "There is far less room for error that way."

"But that kind of detail in the coding inevitably slows things down..."

"Only in simulation," Jilla countered before Ruth could even finish her sentence. "The actual coding will..."

"And if short-cuts are in the coding..." Ruth returned.

"They should most definitely NOT be in the documentation!" Jilla finished stridently.

Ruth backed away, her hands raised in surrender. "You want I should translate from Del into Anglo-Terran?" she asked.

Her friend took a deep breath, visibly calming. "Yes, please," she said, and Ruth nodded, keeping her smile to herself.

"She gonna lecture me?" Del growled as his fingers flew over the keys of his engineering computer. "She gonna lecture me?! I give her somet'ing to lecture 'bout!"

"Mr. DelMonde, I find absolutely nothing either wrong or lecturing in these specifications," Lieutenant Commander Rivka Mazar said as she stood patiently over the station DelMonde was occupying on the Bridge.

"That 'cause you not know her," her assistant grumbled. "See, right here, where it say 'these steps must be detailed in the documentation to ensure the proper encoding'? That a lecture!"

"It's a simple statement of fact," Rivka countered.

"It her way o' tellin' me she t'ink my documentation fo' shit," Del shot back.

"That, too, is hardly inaccurate," the Chief Engineer commented.

Del glared at her. "I th' best engineer you got, girlie," he stated balefully, "an' that include you."

"You're very talented, Mr. DelMonde," Rivka replied, her voice cool steel, "but you're also very undisciplined. Engineering is a precise application." She gave her fellow engineer what he privately called the 'Jewish smile.' "And that's Chief girlie, mister."

"Yeah? Then how come ever't'ing I do works, all th' damn time, Chief Girlie?"

Rivka showed her teeth. "Because you're very talented. But you'll never make Chief if you can't pass on your brilliance in ways other engineers can follow."

"How much you wanna bet on that?" Del muttered. "An' any engineer worth his stripes can follow what I do. I not writin' fo' cadets."

"Mrs. Majiir is suggesting, perhaps, that you make the attempt," the Chief returned, "since these will be new systems and will be taught to cadets."

"Then let her go be a fuckin' professor," Del stated. "I an engineer."

"You're a putz," Rivka countered, and walked away. "And your shift is over in ten minutes," she called over her shoulder. "Be off this Bridge by the time your relief arrives."

"Why wait?" Del scowled and yanked the tapes out of the computer, storming off the Bridge.

"Captain..." Rivka began, and in the con, Sulu shook his head.

"Cut him some slack, Rivi," the captain said. "He's had a hard couple of months. As long as his work is up to your standards..." He sighed. "It really doesn't have to be up to Jilla's."

Rivka gave a disgusted snort. "Yes, sir," she said.

"Cut him some slack?" Ruth said, hearing Sulu's patient request from the message Jilla was viewing. "Did Roy really just ask you to cut Del some slack?"

"That is what he said," Jilla returned, her voice puzzled. "But I do not know what that means."

"He should let someone translate for him," the Antari chuckled. "It means be patient, recognize that Del's methods differ from yours, let him do his work and just do yours."

"Which means I must go through every specification Mr. DelMonde sends and rewrite all the documentation myself?"

Ruth shrugged. "Essentially, I guess."

"That is inefficient," Jilla stated.

"He really needs a good assistant," Ruth mused.

Jilla bristled. "I am not Noel DelMonde's assistant!"

"I know," Ruth soothed. "And so does Sulu. But Del's - well, he's had it rough..."

"A situation of his own making," the Indiian interrupted.

"Well - not entirely..."

Jilla sighed. "Ruth, you know full well I do not blame him. However, he must take responsibility for his own reactions to events, even when those events are beyond his control."

"That's the problem," Ruth tried again. "He takes too much responsibility. He tries to handle everything on his own, he won't look for help even when he knows he needs it."

"That is childish," Jilla stated.

"Like some other engineer I know," was Ruth's oblique comment.

Jilla's eyebrow rose archly. "Indeed? I would have thought it was a trait he shared with you."

"Hey!" Ruth protested.

"If you will call me childish, Ruth..."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant - well, you're both stubborn and neither one of you is good at asking for help."

"And what 'help' do you think I need?" the Indiian returned almost haughtily.

Ruth sighed. "I wasn't talking about..." She rubbed her temples. "Never mind."

"I never do," Jilla replied frostily.

"Damned, god damned fuckin' Ice Queen!"

Sulu sighed and rose from the con, stepping up to the Engineering station.

"What now?" he asked quietly.

"Your bitch of a wife..."

"Watch it," Sulu warned.

Del scowled. "Mrs. Majiir say she not appreciate havin' to rewrite all my specs, but fo' th' good o' th' Nests, she do it. My specs not need no damn rewrite!"

"Your documentation does tend to be a bit sketchy," Sulu pointed out calmly.

"Then let her say th' damn documentation!" Del seethed. "There not'ing wrong wit' th' damn specs!"

"To Jilla, it's the same thing," Sulu offered.

"An' I thought she th' one who so damn precise all th' fuckin' time!"

"Del..."

"I fuckin' tired o' this shit!" Del thundered. "Ever't'ing I send - hell, ever't'ing I leave at SanFran the best damn engineerin' you gonna find anywhere! I had them prototypes damn near finished till she come along wit' her fuckin' precision!"

"Headquarters did make a note of the lack of - um - proper protocols in your..." Sulu began.

"I an engineer, not a damn bureaucrat!"

"And the best," Sulu agreed, silently asking pardon of his wife, "but not everyone who has to follow the prototype is gonna be in your league."

Del snorted. "They gonna let sub-standard people work on th' Nests, now?"

"Not galaxy-class isn't necessarily sub-standard," Sulu pointed out.

"It is to me, son," Del countered.

"And Jilla certainly isn't," the captain said sternly.

Del opened his mouth, then saw the look in Sulu's eyes, and shut it.

"Maybe it would be best if you'd talk to her," Sulu continued. "If you came to some agreement regarding the documentation workload..."

"I not no damn Vulcan neither," Del grumbled.

"And she is," Sulu snapped in exasperation. "So maybe you should just get off your damned high horse and work with her!"

"Tell her that!" Del shot back.

Sulu grinned, though it wasn't exactly pleasant.

"I already have."

"Work with him?" Jilla repeated a she read the message from the Drake. "How am I to work with him? All that is required is for him to be more thorough in his documentation."

"And he no doubt thinks all that is required is for the specs to work," Ruth said.

"He is wrong," Jilla insisted.

"From a builder's perspective," Ruth returned. "But he's not the one working on the fabrication for the ship materials."

"I thought Mr. DelMonde was a 'tinkerer.'" Jilla hesitation over the use of the uncertain term showed in her voice.

"He is - he was - when he gets to be hands on," Ruth tried to explain. "My being sent here kinda put the kibosh on that."

"Put the..." Jilla began.

"Stopped it," the Antari replied. "He and I couldn't very well work together after... well, after."

"And so he sabotages the construction out of an inappropriate sense of grievance?" Jilla asked, frankly appalled.

"He's NOT sabotaging it!" Ruth snapped. "He's just - frustrated - and intuitive - and he knows you know what he means, even if he does use shortcuts!"

"But I am not the one who needs to..." Jilla shouted back.

"And he figures you're here and he's not so why not let you translate!" Ruth's face wore an exasperated scowl. "He'd do the same for you."

"My work needs no such translation," the Indiian insisted coldly.

"Yeah? Tell that to people who aren't fanatics," was the muttered return.

"Show me," Jilla challenged brusquely, "where there is any confusion or lack of clarity in my specifications."

"No confusion, Jilla, or lack of clarity," Ruth returned. "Just god awful boredom!"

"Engineering specifications are not expected to be exciting..."

"Except to other engineers," the Antari countered. "You notice anyone jumping up and down with their eyes shining at your work? People do at Del's."

Jilla blinked. "You are saying my work is uninspired? That it is not equal to the brilliance of Mr. DelMonde's?"

"It could be used for sleep induction, Jilla."

There was a long moment of silence, then Jilla turned away from her friend. "And does Spock know you still defend him with such vehemence, Ruth?" she asked quietly.

Ruth reddened, ignoring the sudden fearful wash of emotion from the Indiian, her own guilt flaring into defensiveness. "Don't you pull that shit on me, Majiir! Sulu's never exactly gone out of his way to say anything nasty about LiLing!"

The wave of rage and pain that swept over Ruth's senses was clear and anguished and impossible to discount, and she damned her mouth.

"Sulu has never gone out of his way to say anything regarding the ensign, except to apologize profusely and take all the blame on himself," Jilla replied tightly.

"I'm sorry, Jilla, I know that was uncalled for," Ruth tried. "But so was your crack about..."

"As is your adamant defense of Noel DelMonde," Jilla broke in. "He is wrong regarding the documentation necessary for engine construction. But as a Starfleet captain has requested that I do my best to work amiably with him, that is precisely what I will do." Her emphasis on the word was bitter and icy. "And I would ask you to refrain from reading or listening to our correspondence unless I bring matters that require your expertise in computers to your specific attention."

"Jilla..."

"I have nothing more to say to you, Ruth."

Ruth let out a shaky sigh. She'd done it now. There was only one avenue left if she was to save her friendship - and Del's career.

"Mr. DelMonde, what is this?" Rivka Mazar demanded as she stepped up behind Del in Engineering.

Del turned in his chair. The Drake's Chief Engineer was holding out a tape disc. "You interceptin' my communications, Lieutenant Commander?" he drawled, but there was a touch of anger behind the calm words.

"I routinely monitor all communication from this department," she informed him. "So I repeat - what is the meaning of this?"

Del glanced at the disc. "It my latest specs fo' th' Nests," he replied. A gleam of grim amusement came into his eyes. "Why? It still not detailed 'nough?"

Rivka's face grew dark. "Take a breath," she quoted. "Place your hands on the keyboard of your terminal. Take a breath. Read the first sentence. Take a breath. Enter the specifications into the engineering computer, matching the letters in the sentence with those on your keyboard. Take a breath."

Del grinned. "Oh, I see," he returned. "I not say to exhale, non? Or was it I forget to mention keepin' th' heart beatin'? Now I know that usually an autonomic function, but I can see where it might get confusin'..."

"Mr. DelMonde!" Mazar interrupted stridently. "I will not allow this kind of childish, vindictive nonsense from a member of my staff! You will accompany me to the captain's office, NOW! We'll see how funny he finds this!"

Del winced, his mind giving him a clear picture of Sulu's likely reaction to the mockery of his wife, particularly after he'd told Del to work with her. "It jus' a joke," he said lamely.

"One you actually thought to relay to SanFran," Rivka countered. "See how very much laughing I'm not."

"Miss Mazar, we not havta take this to Sulu. I fix it."

"Yes, we do, and yes, you will," she stated. "I'm putting you on Maintenance duty, and I'll be strongly recommending to the captain that you be confined to your cabin when not at work."

"Why, thank you kindly, ma'am..." Del began.

"WITH DYLAN PAINE!" Rivka shrieked.

"Ain't no call to get nasty," Del mumbled.

Rivka's hand shot out, grabbing him by the shirtfront. "On your feet, mister. We're reporting to the captain. NOW!"

Commander Jeremy Paget sighed, scrubbing one hand over the back of his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, then again stared at the anxious face on the view screen.

"I don't know what you expect me to do about this, Spike," he said.

On the screen, Ruth frowned. "Call Del," she pleaded. "Try and get him to understand how Jilla thinks."

"He's not gonna care," Paget warned.

"Then try to get him to understand that if he doesn't at least try, there's gonna be trouble!"

"He won't care about that, either."

"Is he trying to trash his career?"

"Honey, after what happened on his undercover mission, I'm not sure he cares about much of anything."

Ruth made a frustrated noise. "Well, I really blew it with Jilla, so there's no chance she's gonna let up..."

Jeremy shook his head. Yeah, Spike, what the hell were you thinkin' with that shit? he thought sourly. "I know the lady wasn't exactly tactful," he said aloud, "but you are defendin N.C. just a little too strongly here, doncha think?"

"And she's being as stubborn and thick-headed as he is!" Ruth returned.

Jeremy sat back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. It was really only to be expected. Without the emotional interplay that would make both Del and Jilla sensitive to the other's mood, there was bound to be friction between their very different approaches to engineering. Add in Jilla's struggle to stay real when away from Sulu, and Del's self-destructive grief...

He sighed again. "Look, Spike, can you send me copies of both their work?" he asked. "I can run it by Scotty and see what he makes of it. He knows them both and he ought to be able to tell who's bein' the most stupid here."

"I think that would be me," Ruth muttered.

Paget grinned. "No argument there, honey."

"I love you too, Cobra."

After a pause, Jeremy asked, "Well?"

Ruth took a deep breath. "Jilla's forbidden me to look at their correspondence..." Her face brightened. "But she didn't say anything about past messages. I think I can get something for you."

"And you better warn Sulu," Jeremy added. "If he gets a sobbing message from his lady, he's not gonna be inclined to help smooth things over."

"Yeah." Ruth's face and voice were clearly unhappy. "He's gonna yell at me, Jer."

Jeremy grinned sympathetically. "Just tell him you're doin' enough for the both of you. I'll wait for those specs. Paget out."

He clicked off the com and shook his head. Sometimes, he thought, I hate bein' a shrink.

Sulu pressed his fingers to his lips, and then to the com screen as Jilla's image faded. He wasn't surprised at the call from her, but he was concerned about its contents. She didn't complain about Del. She didn't, in fact, complain about anything. She was too quiet and too subdued and merely, as she put it, in need of contact with him, even if only over a screen. He had, of course, asked her what was wrong, and she'd replied, "Do I bore you?"

Wondering where the hell that had come from, he had assured her that she most definitely did not. Then she'd asked if the way her mind worked - her Vulcan thought patterns - disturbed him. Again, he told her that he loved her just the way she was. He'd accepted everything about her, including the fact that she was logical and precise and detail-oriented. When she'd murmured that she was aware she was not the kind of woman he had previously sought, he started to get angry. Had someone at SanFran been talking about his past? He tried to recall if there were anyone assigned there who was a former lover, and gave that thought up after only a few seconds - the answer was very likely yes, too many. So he'd asked, as gently as he could, if she'd heard something that had distressed her.

"Ruth seems to feel that I am too...dull," she'd answered.

Ruth? Ruth?! He'd closed his eyes, feeling his blood pressure rising. "This is about Del, isn't it?" he'd said.

"I do not understand her defensiveness," Jilla had admitted, "but..."

"What did she say?"

"That my work induces boredom," was the too-quiet response.

"Your work," he'd assured her, "is exactly the kind of detail Fleet needs for the Nests. Ruth's just impatient."

"But is she correct?"

"No, hon, she's not. I know you're doing your best to work with DelMonde, and that's all you need to do. Tell Spike to stuff it. Del's not some lost little boy in need of her protection."

"She seems to feel..."

He'd noted the sudden tension in her voice, the stiffness in her already perfect posture, and understood. "And you think what she feels is - " He'd paused, trying to find the correct shade of meaning. "- improper."

"I try not to judge her..." Jilla had begun.

"You are what and who you are, honey," he'd interrupted. "And Ruth is what she is. If she felt Del was being attacked... well, she knows the whole thing wasn't his fault."

"I was not attacking Mr. DelMonde."

"I'm sure you weren't," he'd soothed. "Guilt can sometimes make people see slights where none are intended. She'll get over it, I'm sure." Jilla had said nothing, but Sulu could well imagine her inner comment; I'm not certain I will. It made him wonder exactly what Ruth had said. He didn't have to wonder long, and it infuriated him.

"Would you feel the need to defend Ensign LiLing were she alive?" Jilla had suddenly asked.

Ruth had brought up his fidelity fuck-up. He'd had to take several deep breaths before he could answer.

"I didn't on Lorelei," he reminded.

Tears had formed in Jilla's grey eyes. "Forgive me, my love," she'd said.

"Forgive me," he'd answered fervently.

"I have."

"Then there's nothing you need to ask forgiveness for. I love you, Jilla. It'll be all right."

She'd tried to smile and said a sad goodbye after telling him she loved him, too.

"Damn it, Ruth, what were you thinking?" he muttered, then glanced up as the door chime sounded. "Come," he called.

Seeing Rivka Mazar pushing a not-at-all-subdued Noel DelMonde before her into his office was the last thing he needed.

At least, he thought it was until his com unit signaled a second time and Tristan Vale's voice said, "There's another personal call from San Francisco, Captain. Commander Valley."

Del stiffened.

Sulu sighed.

"Whatever this is, Rivi," he said, "it can wait."

"Merci, mon ami," Del managed, then turned, glared at the Chief Engineer, and left the office.

Rivka gave a growling smile. "I'll just leave this for you, Captain," she said, sliding a disc onto the desk. "I'm sure you're going to get a real laugh out of it."

Sulu nodded and she, too, left. He picked up the disc, fingering it idly as he told Tristan to put the call through.

"Uh, hi, Roy," Ruth said uncertainly. The face on the view screen in her office at the shipyards didn't look its usual relaxed.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped, though his expression was more exasperated than furious.

Considering the best defense, Ruth scowled. "That womprat already called you, didn't she?"

"Don't start with me, Commander," Sulu growled back. "She didn't rat you out."

"Then how do you know..."

"She did tell me you called her boring. And she said you seemed overly defensive. And then she asked if I would defend LiLing! It wasn't too hard to put two and two together."

Ruth fidgeted. "Yeah, well, about that..."

"She's Spock's kindred," Sulu interrupted. "She's Indiian. You were wrong with Del, you know it, she knows it, and that's got nothing to do with the fact that I was wrong with Li." He paused, his black eyes blazing. "And if you ever throw that in her face again..."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry about that!" Ruth broke in. "But she was..."

"Doing her job, Ruth. And yeah, I know, Del was just doing his..."

"She said he was being childish."

"And no doubt he is, which is how you both react when anyone questions you about your work."

Ruth began a protest, but Sulu went on.

"But she was picked to be Chief Engineer for the Nests, not him, and it wouldn't kill him to learn a little discipline."

"It wouldn't kill her to cut him some..."

"Look, this thing has gone far enough," Sulu cut in. "I know the rule is nobody gets to trash Del but you, but it's a professional disagreement, not a personal attack. Stay out of it."

"She asked me to translate!" Ruth said. "She was getting all logical and precise and pretending not to be able to understand his shortcuts..."

"Pretending?" Sulu spat.

Ruth flushed. "Well, okay, once she knew they were shortcuts, she understood, but... the point is, she understood, and she still..."

"Ruth, did it ever occur to you that if she'd had to ask him herself they could have worked this thing out before..."

Sulu had been doing something with his computer terminal while he spoke, and he stopped in mid sentence. Ruth watched in increasingly uncomfortable fascination as his eyes scanned something, hardened, and his expression went blank, then furious, then cold.

"No, Cajun isn't childish," he said slowly. "Cajun is perfectly reasonable, just doing his job, it's just a little misunderstanding."

The tone of his voice made Ruth shudder. She watched as he swiveled his computer screen to face the com. Ruth read only a few sentences, then winced.

"Oy god..." she whispered.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Valley, I have more important matters to attend to."

"Roy, he's just angry, he'd never..."

The screen went blank.

Del, what the hell have you done!