| Double Trouble |
| Summary: | Two Taurians visit a very pregnant Aerilonian stuck in Sickbay for mandated medical rest. There are multiple punchlines. |
| Date: | 29 Nov 2041 AE (backscened to 18 Nov) |
| Related Logs: | None, really |
| Players: |
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| Recovery Room — Deck 10 — Battlestar Cerberus |
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| A much more quiet area of Medical, this elongated room is also lined with beds. Each is similarly outfitted with privacy curtains as necessary and even the paint on the walls has been lightened in an attempt to help lift spirits. Chairs are readily available all over the place so that visitors can pull one up to talk to the patients during their recovery. Near the entrance, visiting hours are posted with a very conspicuous 'No Smoking' sign. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #265 |
Bedrest. Frakking bedrest. It was like the death bell toll of sanity for a pregnant woman. Especially when they're telling her to -relax-, that her blood pressure's too high, that she just has to take it easy and calm. How the hell is she supposed to take it easy going stir crazy trapped in sickbay!? Still, there was nothing she could do about it. On all the damn monitors, several magazines near her, the nurse coming by every hour or so to check on things and some too kind smiling doctors. Maggie was going nutters. Not to mention the damn sickbay gowns left nothing to the imagination. The look on her face is one of an Angry!Ginger, which is sure as hell not good for the whole situation.
Angry!Ginger, meet Pervy Cow. Like a peeping Tom, the stuffed plushie critter's head peeps through the bed curtain.
In the background beyond the curtain, to about stage right and behind the plushie, comes the quieted voice of Bran. He's a touch worried but for the most part there's simply him trying to avoid being noticeably amused. "Is that really going to help? Because, I mean, well-"
Quinn looks up from her glare at nothing in particular to see the cow coming through the curtains. "Pervy cow!" she states warmly, genuine, silly excitement in her voice. Well, that's a good sign at least. And then to that other voice she just laughs, calling through the curtains, "Pervy cow -always- helps. I don't think he likes watching if you're not having fun."
"If not, she still has me," Kal quips back to the other ECO, fluttering his lashes in a cheeky manner. Then, making a grand entrance, the curtain is drawn aside with a theatrical flourish, man and cow striking a pose. Cue the applause. And then it's off to greet their adoring public: Quinn. "I think it depends on the nature of the not fun." A pause. "What was that?" he asks the bovine, as if being told something. "No, see, that's /your/ fantasy. /You/ ask 'im." Pervy Cow has plans for Pens, it seems.
"B-but," stammers Bran back to the other ECO, giving a royal start at Trask's response. He then quiets down and looks aside before stepping in after the other man and lifting a hand into a short, greeting wave to the bedridden Quinn. "I'm… just going to say that this is really alternative therapy - and that's all I'm going to say, I think." He pauses in trying to say more, blinking owlishly as his attention shifts to the Cow. Suspicious Pens is suspicious.
"If you two don't say that you've come to spring me, I'm going to take Pervy Cow and run away to the hot springs of southern Aerilon and leave -all- of you behind. He knows how to please a woman, at least!" Maggie's hands reach out for the stuffed cow that is often in or near her bunk, a wide smile on her lips. While she's reaching, she moves to tug Trask in for a brief, tight hug and Pens in for a quiet kiss. "…Plllease… get me out of here. Promise you'll tie me down to my bunk. Tell the nurses I disappeared. Anything!"
Trask is hugged, even squeezing back, mussing Maggie's already messy hair. The cow is relinquished with no protest. No, the protest comes when the redhead suggests the men tie her down to her bunk. "I know we're close an' all, but I really don't need to know about your foreplay."
Bran tries to come up with something to say but since nothing //good/ is coming to mind he instead just gets his moment of a kiss and grins all the while. He goes back to standing next to Quinn and leans to the side, easing the breadth of his shoulders into a slow shrug. "It's good foreplay, though," nonchalantly he folds his arms over his chest. "But, uh," after a glance to Quinn he asks, "Is the food really that horrible around here?"
Quinn looks a touch less angry !ginger and more just frustrated now that she's no longer alone. Kal's comment about foreplay earns him a slightly saucy smile as she looks up towards Bran, "Really now? Hmm… Soon as they let me out we'll have to take note." Yes, that comment was mainly made for the torture of her poor, lonely ECO over there. At least Maggie seemed more content at Bran's side than she'd looked in ages. Disgusting flirting or not, he was good for her. "Kal… please tell me you came to talk sense into them. Seriously."
"It sure is," Bootstrap brazenly deadpans, impassively looking Bran dead in the eyes, blinking twice for effect. Quinn should know better than to play this game. As far as sense goes, he says in a Very Serious manner, "I came to talk some sense into them." Beat… two… three… "How was that? Was I emoting too much? I feel as though I was emoting too much."
With Trask looking at him like so, Bran lifts the palms of his hands into the air and takes a half-step back. He's innocent. Slowly but surely does the man settle back down into his previous posture and for the time being he keeps quiet; then again, after watching the performance he adds in his two-cents. "At the risk of a demotion, I suggest less intensity. They'd know something's… up."
Quinn stares between both of them, smirking a bit more. "Well, at least thank gods you're not both working together. I don't think I could handle a united front, especially not -you two-." Maggie smirks hard in Trask's direction, especially as he mentions the emoting. "Useless to me. Totally frakking useless…" And then she flashes a smile in Bran's direction. "How about you, handsome? Got any bright ideas?"
"Other than Maggie's ire, you mean?" is asked of Bran. That's up, right? How can that be so with the adorable, rascally way Trask smiles at Quinn? Even his nose crinkles. As far as being called useless, he pronounces, "Okay, /that/ was totally not believable."
Bran conveniently has to clear his throat, which means, conveniently, he has no comment when it comes to Quinn's ire. So conveniently he ends up just standing there and looking off into the distance as their attention floats on back in his direction. At the expense of not using the word conveniently, Sam leans to the side towards them in offering up his words again. "We stick you in a box and then smuggle you out. It's okay, though, 'cause we can poke holes in the top for proper air flow. We'll just need someone to distract the doctors on-duty."
Quinn wasn't quite ready to pop yet, but she sure as hell -felt- like it. She looks down to her all too round belly, carrying low and wide (supposedly the sign of a girl, but if they thought of every Aerilonian old wives' tale they'd be here until the baby's first birthday). "A box? You found one big enough to -fit- me in? What, did a Raptor come packaged inside?" Maggie mutters flatly, rubbing her non IV/pulse monitor clad hand against the side of her wide belly with an unhappy wince. "And neither of you are believable. Worst bloody actors on this ship. I'd be better off with Toast here!"
"We might still have the crate we used to airlift Bessie. That /should/ be big enough." Yes, he so went there. Blithely so. Of course, Quinn did invite Kal to crack that joke. As for being poor actors, he faintly smirks and shoots the pilot an admonishing look, as though she should know better. "Contrary to what some might believe, despite its name, Tauron is /not/ the place to go for bullshit." Har har.
Bran gives a shake of his head and then gives a nod in agreement to Trask. He can silently agree because it's okay with him so long as he doesn't voice the jokes. That means he's momentarily just standing there again while trying to fight back a good laugh. "All you're going to get out of us is trouble. That's what we're known for. Good, wholesome trouble," Bran leans a hip against Quinn's bed. "Not that trouble is a bad thing. I just need to find a box first."