Midshipman Harris's care package from old schoolmates with the images of women undoubtedly in the same profession as Lucy and Mary.
The two male officers exchanged banter, oblivious to Claire's unease. The ATO even let himself smile, and if it faded a bit when his eyes tripped over her, he didn't let the opportunity pass to quiz the AuxO on the dress up. Their back and forth revealed that he was to meet the mothers of a possible fiancée to show them around Blackbird Yard. He flashed a quick smile at Claire, and she returned it even though he was clearly just practicing for the upcoming visit.
The ATO's frown deepened, and Claire dropped the smile. Ever since his wives had made public their unhappiness at sharing a junior lieutenant's pay and objections spreading the income with a third wife, his curt interactions with the single midshipwoman in the bevy of middies nominally under his training guidance had grown decidedly strained.
At the last wardroom officers and wives function, Claire had tried to make clear that she was only in the service to learn some skills to transfer to a job on Blackbird Yard just as soon as her obligation was met. A few comments from the XO's wives about Claire's looks not being good enough to attract an officer anyway, might have helped, even if they had set her teeth on edge. If the ATO had had a touch less to drink he might not have responded that all women look the same in the dark or his whisper might have been pitched lower so the fully drunk Midshipman Harris could not have repeated it at full volume. The invitation to the next function had specified officers and wives, ensigns and above only. Exclusion was almost a relief.
For Claire's part, working surrounded by the men was almost restful compared to growing up on Burdette Steading with Grayson's toxic birthrate of three girls to every live boy. Dr. Allison Harrington, the famous Admiral Alexander-Harrington's lady mother had found a cure, but that would be the salvation of the next generation. Nothing could bring Claire's many stillborn brothers back to life.
Grayson men might still expect Claire to be continually hunting for a husband, but they weren't constantly measuring and evaluating the way women did. Well, they were, Claire amended to herself, but that was different. A midshipman, midshipwoman, whatever was supposed to be forever polishing up military knowledge and skills, after all.
Lucy and Mary, dancing at Birdies, were very nearly cut off from the family, yet they meticulously braided their hair and made up their faces before leaving the club in street clothes on their days off. Strangers on the street would chastise any woman who didn't care for her appearance. At least a woman had the one time Claire had gone without makeup.
She automatically shifted back against the bulkhead and tucked her chin down, coming to attention as the door to the XO's office opened. The laughing crinkles normally lingering at the corners of the XO's eyes were displaced today by a flat twitch on just the left side; both full officers straightened in response.
She tried a bright smile. It felt like showing her teeth. She licked her lips ready to attempt an opening bit of chitchat but clamped her mouth shut at an eye bulge and miniscule headshake from AuxO.
“What's that, Middy?” The XO said, pointing at her bundle.
She stumbled through a tortured explanation of the Burdette ladies sending uniforms from time to time. With the new uniform regulations for officers they had wanted to send her skirt sets, but, she admitted, they had ensign insignia.
The XO cut her off with a curt gesture. The ATO sucked in air ready to lay into her, but his eyes flittered back and forth between Claire and the XO waiting for his cue.
The XO pointed at his private bathroom and said, “Go put them on.”
The ATO deflated with a stunned series of blinks.
Claire returned with the two remaining new skirt sets folded inside a bundled midshipwoman uniform.
The lieutenants were hunched at the XO's desk signing forms with matching expressions of unhappiness while the XO paced.
A pair of bags sat just inside the cabin next to the entry hatch. The scuff of grease on the one side looked much like Claire's own bags. Her stomach dropped. The Ephraim was supposed to be leaving the yards tomorrow. Since a cabin hadn't been assigned to her yet, she'd brought her bags from the room on the station and