AT/D02 - CO & FO Quarters

[Tyra Crawford]

== Separate Quarters designated for the use of the Commanding Officer, and the Executive Officer. The Quarters are located on the same deck as the Bridge, allowing for rapid access by the Command Team in case of emergencies. Spacious, they allow room for rest, refreshment, and casual tasks or hobbies. ==

[Tyra Crawford]

== CO Quarters ==

If Tyra was being entirely honest, she liked Artemis best when most of her occupants were away on liberty, when it was quiet enough that you could hear the hum of the systems in the corridors. When she'd taken command of the Avenger, she'd begun a habit of walking those empty corridors, communing with the ship that was her responsibility, and that habit had carried through to the Gettysburg and now, the Artemis.

On today's her walk, she'd seen a handful of engineers working on minor projects and had stopped to talk to them briefly. As always, Colt was the most popular on these outings, gathering numerous ear scratches from the engineers. In fact, she had nearly had to drag him away from the attention so that she could make it back to her quarters for her daily call home.

The console was already beeping when they stepped inside of her quarters and she let Colt's leash go in favor of moving towards the console, despite the clanging he made as he drug the leash against every possible furniture piece.

"Hey hey, how are the --"

As the channel opened, instead of her husband, she was met with two pairs of large eyes, one a matching set to her own and the other a gorgeous green-blue that reminded her of the Emerald Coast. Each pair of eyes had a matching snaggletooth smile and the cutest set of freckles.

"Well well well, look who it is. How are the doctors today?" She asked, remembering the two running around in the background of her last call with tricorders and hyposprays.

"I'm not a doctor. I'm a sure-ef," Ethan answered, looking down at what looked to be a good star pinned to the front of his shirt. She could see that it said "Sheriff" and wondered where that relic had been dug up from, probably Pops.

"And I'm a ballerina firefighter!" Evie piped in as if that was an entirely legitimate career path. That girl certainly didn't lack in self-confidence or assurance.

"Wow, a real lawman and a tutu wearing firefighter. The Crawford legacy lives on after all," she answered with a grin.

The next five minutes was a chaos of show and tell as each child battled to show what they'd been working on recently. Ethan had proudly shown her a drawing of a misshapen T-Rex and he had beamed when she'd praised his creative color usage, which made her wonder if Rory had ever taken the time to look at his drawings. Evie had shown her one of her paintings that looked very Pollock-esque but at least showed Thomas had managed to channel her new found love of paint on paper instead of the walls. And then, she'd rattled off a series of facts about Bajor, proving that despite her looks and general attitude, she was absolutely Thomas Grayson's child.

There was a routine of sorts once the kids got on the commlink. They'd regale her with their recent adventures -- real and otherwise - before beginning to show her artwork, telling her facts and asking her a dozen questions about anything and everything. It varied how long Thomas would let this go on before coming in to grab the kids, usually as a shuttle headed to an exciting adventure or an ambulance headed to a hospital so the doctors could work on their collection of victims... Patients. They'd be giggling and howling, Thomas would be grinning, and Tyra would feel that tightness in her chest of longing, desperate longing. Her husband, the one that had worried endlessly about whether he was too old to be a good father, had turned into the best father and sometimes, she thought it was because of her absence he'd been able to blossom into the role he'd needed to fill. It was both a warm and bitter thought, one that nestled into that tightness with all the other thoughts of home.

Eventually, the little terrorists would be chased off screen to play with the dogs and Thomas would settle into the chair, usually with that lopsided grin of his still in place. Today, he didn't say anything immediately, watching her through the screen. She'd curled a knee up to her chest and had propped her chin on it as she'd watched and he must have seen that wistful look in her eyes.

"How's the Mighty A doing today?" He finally asked, seemingly deciding to not voice the heavy emotions.

Tyra smiled, appreciating his attempt to think of her ship like she did. Her husband was a practical man and a ship was a ship to him but he knew that was one of the many ways they were different. To her, a ship was never just a ship, it was a vault of memories, a guardian under fire and sometimes a listening ear.

"Good. Maybe a little anxious to be on her way; I don't think she likes the engineers poking and prodding her because there's nothing better to do."

He hummed. "Any idea what the powers that be have in mind for you next?"

The redhead shook her head. "No but I have a meeting at 0800 tomorrow that will likely be rather informative on that front. Its giving me mission brief vibes without anyone saying what it is."

"Well, you know the all knowing admirals do things their way because they know best," he teased, that glimmer in his eye giving him away.

She didn't even give that an answer. Instead, she began filling him in on the recent events on the ship and at home.

"Can you believe that in the current Crawford Discord, I somehow ended up on Team Dad? Just based on that I think I might be making the wrong decision but Mom is being ... ridiculous and manipulative. Which really isn't like her."

"Love will make you act irrationally," Thomas commented, his eyebrow arching rather pointedly.

"I know... I know," she conceded before falling silent, watching him intently as if she was memorizing every little detail.

"I miss you," she finally said, her words barely audible but he knew with the way his smile softened.

"And I you," he answered, his lips pulling to the side as he seemed to consider adding something. However, a timer went off on the background and Tyra knew their time was up as bedtime activities needed to commence.

His expression was apologetic as he leaned forward. "I love you and I hope you come home soon. The house isn't the same with only two terrorists instead of three," he added, the teasing line was meant to cut the sentimentality but all it did was make Tyra want to be able to be able to touche him.

"I love you too. I'll send you a message after my meeting in the morning. And send me the draft of your paper... I need some bedtime reading material," she teased, adding a wink for good measure before ending the transmission with a blown kiss.

The screen died down, leaving her in dimly lit quarters light-years from where she truly wanted to be. There was a heavy sigh as she stood up, noting she needed to rescue Colt who had gotten his leash tangled under the coffee table. She did so before pouring herself a generous glass of whiskey.

There were pros and cons to the life she lived and while she appreciated a husband who was supportive of her desires, she sometimes wished he'd put his foot down so that she wouldn't feel this way, wouldn't carry this longing with her like a ghost. Because she knew, she'd never stop on her own accord; the stars were in her blood and a desire to explore ran through her veins but home wasn't among the stars anymore.

Home was where two wild imaginations ran wild, where her husband lovingly worked on his newest projects, where the circus was really hers as were the monkeys.