| PHD #453: Make'mgo 'way |
| Summary: | Constin encounters Khloe and Vandenberg at the worst possible time. Well, not the worst… |
| Date: | 25 April 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Officer Berths |
| Officer berths. Not the pilot berths, not the Marine berths. (TP Room) |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #453 |
Its still about half an hour before reville for the Marines but some are awake anyway. With the short number of officers in the ranks Van's bunk is the only one occupied. Everyone has been dispatched to their own ends of the ship and with Corrath going to JAG? Officers for the Marines are in a higher demand than before. Thus, the two in Natalie's bunk have managed get some alone time for the last bit of 'lights out' time. The smaller one has wedged herself against the wall on the far side of the with her face nuzzled into Khloe's neck, an arm and leg draped over her in a lazy, sleepy embrace. But being alone like this? It should be taken advantage of, right? She kisses the pilot's shoulder lightly - something that's become more reflexive on waking up.
Khloe, resting comfortably and sleeping soundly these nights, has finally taken to letting her hair down - literally. No longer is she so paranoid about her time spent in the officer berths, and particularly holed up with Vandenberg; she still makes good practice of stashing her Alert Vipers gear, change of clothes, and toiletries, and once the curtain is pulled shut her anxieties are stowed as well. In that lazy half-asleep state, arms wrapped around Natalie in a loose and comfortable embrace, the Viper jock stirrs lightly with a mostly-mumbled sound that equates to, "Morning," and a lazy smile begins to play across her face. Oh, but if it only were to stay this picturesque.
Alas, the hatch is hauled open in a deft motion, and the unwelcome refrain of bootsteps falling on deck plating drifts through the drawn curtains. After the time it takes to cglance about the berths and find the other bunks unoccupied, an all too familiar voice greets, "Got word, if'n you're up for it, sir."
Natalie sighs happily with the greeting but nuzzles in more as if to hide from the morning. "Stupid mornings. Worst invention ever," the Marine breathes. The woman curls up a bit more before rolling her head back to lay more proper on the pillow. "We got lots of locker space up here, you know. Could-" then the hatch opens. Nothing new and she's whispering. Nat is just about to continue when Constin's voice carries. Her eyes go wide as she is staring up at the top of her bunk. Ohshitnowwhat??? "Uh. How important, Elf?" she calls, trying (and failing) to not sound concerned.
People going in and out of berths happens at all hours of the day, so that sound doesn't cause Khloe to start. It's Constin's unmistakable bark - even when he's not trying to. Rather than move to a more dignified position, the sleepy Viper Captain instead burrows her face against the top of Nat's head and a leg shifts suggestively against the one draped over it possessively. "Make'mgo 'way," is her whispered mumble.
"Oh, not that important. Just figured I'd wander into the Officer's berths on a whim, you know how it is," Constin returns, too sardonic in tone to be properly deadpan as bootfalls come to a stop outside the still-drawn drapes. "Got preliminary word back on the rad samples for the Gemenon op. Knew you'd wanna see straight off."
The draped leg. Mm. Suggestive, indeed. She takes a shaky breath, smiling as a few ideas flit across her mind. but- Shit, he's walking over. "Heh. Right, Elf." Ahem. Her voice cracks a bit and she can't help stifling herself once before trying to force a more controlled tone. "You're right. I do want to see them. We'll need them for when we go back. Just.. Um.." Godsdamnit! This is so nice and now..!!! !!!!!!
Khloe doesn't do anything constructive. In fact, she's the exact opposite of 'helping', continuing to burrow and cuddle against Vandenberg. Being in that lazy half-asleep state probably means she hasn't registered that a Big Scary Marine is about to disrupt her morning snuggle time with her would-be girlfriend. Or, maybe she does register, and she just doesn't ca- no, scratch that. This is Khloe we're talking about. Someone is likely about to die.
Elf mentions that Gemenon data is in, and yet there is a distinct lack of Vandenbergs springing excitedly from her berth. Unseen beyond the curtain, the big marine is frowning in brief confusion. "Arright, what the frak-" Calloused fingers take hold of the military-standard green cloth of the bunk's drapes, making the rings rattle slightly in the instant before it gets shoved aside.
Anything but helpful. Right. The cuddling gets a bit of a melt from Natalie and she can't help but smile, nuzzling into the other woman's body and laying her head on Khloe's chest, just below the shoulder she's burrowed into. Her arms squeezes to Khloe, a nonverbal 'I don't want to get up' gesture. But it would seem Elf isn't going to leave her much choice. When he yanks back the curtains he finds Van draped as she is across Khloe and dressed in nothing but her skivs, the blanket kicked down around her thighs. She is instantly a deer in the headlights about to be plowed over by a Peterbilt. Eyes spring wide and stay glued there as she makes eye contact with the Gunnery Sergeant. She's frozen in place. "Uhm. Hiiiii." Natalie tries to sound cheerful, at least.
At the metallic rush of the curtain rings is sudden, but not unexpected, there isn't a sudden explosion from Khloe like a honey badger being stung by a hive full of bees. No, instead, the Knights SL flops on her back, still partially entangled in Natalie; also in a tank top and briefs, she blinks blearily at the sudden lighting difference. Focusing on Constin, her cheeks redden fiercely. "Uh, good morning, Gunny," she offers. "You don't by chance see a… pair of slacks lying around anywhere, do you?"
"…Oh," Constin grunts flatly to Vandenberg. "My mistake. I shoulda said 'What the flying frak," he notes deadpan. "Morning, sir," that and a tight grin to Khloe, as the big man obligingly turns an eye around for the slacks, "Yeah, I- Damnation, did you actually fold these things before setting them on the deck?"
The lack of explosion from the pilot is a nice surprise, and one she seems to want to take advantage of for the relaxed mood. "Har har, Elf. Sorry to dissapoint but we're somewhat clothed." Khloe moreso than her.. Van's just in a sportsbra and panties. Typical fare. At the question of having folded clothes, Natalie can't help but grin. "You should see my locker. I haven't had a locker that straight and clean since boot!!" She nearly squee's but is just not awake enough to pull off that feat.
Khloe carefully disentangles long legs and swings them down so that she can sit up. "Of course I folded them. Why not take ten seconds to fold something properly so it looks fresh when you put it back on?" Spoken like a true obsessive compulsive. "Look over there. I, er, have no idea how they got over there," she lies. "But look anyway." Furthest possible distance from Vandenberg's bunk. She gives a sidelong glance at Natalie with a small smile. "Wasn't as bad as you make it out to be. But it definitely needed a woman's touch."
"Hell, Nat," Elf drawls with a grin of his own to answer Vandy's, "You got sunburned worse than I thought. Seems like you might actually be redder in the face than you was yesterday." The wisecracking MaA is carrying a thin file in his left hand, which is passed to Natalie for some light morning reading, as he reaches down to shake out the requested slacks with a practiced *snap* before passing them into the berth to Khloe. "They doing a bit more checking to make sure, so don't go shopping for seeds, yet. But initial results are looking good." His manner isnt much different than if Natalie had been in bunk alone, except that he has double the Canceran to chat with. "Good thing you came along then, else that locker'd be waiting a helluva while," he drawls dryly to Khloe's 'woman's touch' line.
"Brat," Van teases, flicking a finger at Khloe's arm for the 'woman's touch' remark. "I'd say I should kick you out but let's be realistic. That's just not going to happen and we both know it." Natalie wears a stupid, happy smirk with it. She then looks at Elf and sticks out her tongue at him. "Am not. ..Well okay, maybe I am. But that's right as mines not m'fault. Lay that blame square at y'feet, brother." She grins with the accent, the words sliding out easily. She takes the file and rolls onto her back in the bunk and opening it to glance over. More detailed reading will be done later. "Tch. Enough outta ya, Elf. I'll come down there'n end ya reign of terror like Pewter through a pack'a donuts."
"I was kidding, you know. I wouldn't know the first thing about touching women." Humor out of Khloe? This relationship must be doing wonders for her. She accepts the slacks from Constin, and after clambering down out of Van's top bunk, she steps into them, rises to her feet, and pulls them up to her waist. "So much for a lazy reveille," she mutters, fastening the slacks closed. She then rummages around the bunk underneath, currently (and conveninently) unoccupied, where her gear is stowed. Hey, look, standard issue tanks wait for her atop her duffel, neatly folded. "I should get about my duties anyway. Don't let me stand in the way of Marine work."
"Big sister, you'd have to be a helluva lot bigger," Elf needles Natalie back at her quip. A grin tugs at the big man's oft-dour expression. "Think you just might, Vakos," he drawls dryly to Khloe's line about not knowing 'the first thing about touching women'. As Khloe pulls on her trousers, Constin idly points out another point of interest on the radiation analysis to Vandenberg. Modesty might be long dead and buried, but standing around staring has the bad effect of making some feel awkward.
"I'd like to argue that claim, Khloe," Natalie offers with a turn of her head to grin at the pilot. But seeing her hop down the folder is closed and she rolls over to watch her lover. "Tomorrow we can be lazy. I don't pull shift until later in the day. I'll get us grub from the galley and bring it back." Breakfast in bed? Some things might still be possible. She then looks to Elf and quirks her brow. "Psh. Dag. Ya wag that jaw like you ain't worried about it being boxed like a speed bag," she counters with a smirk. Sher reaches out her hand to clap him on the side of the face. Just hard enough to remind him of where they're all from. "So do we all get to hang out some night? Maybe the three of us? Doesn't have to be out in public and we could do it here..?"
Tugging tanks over her head, briefly fighting with her dog tags, Khloe offers in response: "Public is fine, as long as I'm with you two. Or my Sweet Pea." Speaking of, of course, Lieutenant Aydin. Likely she doesn't have a nickname for Vandenberg, and if she did, she's not telling. Hair is wrestled into a quick braid that isn't her usual regulation style; that requires shower. "Whatever you like. This whole 'social' thing is new to me."
"Yeah, don't let this here cheerful butterfly mask fool you-" Constin drawls to Khloe's last, thumbing toward his own ugly mug. "Ain't too practiced at the notion of being social neither. Frankly, I'd grab the chance to pass words woth a couple folk what don't give me the urge to holler and quote what regs they're breaking." A dry eye goes to Vandenberg. "Well. I guess one outta two ain't bad."
"Awesomesauce," Natalie pipes up with a bit of perk. "We'll do something fun. Clean guns or something." She's probably joking. Probably. "Ya still owe me a trip to the climbing wall, ya know, love," Natalie teases to Khloe. But she catches the look from Elf and snerks. "I've been good! Honest!" A pause. "No! Really!"
Khloe gives an affirmative sound reminiscent of a Constin-style grunt, although clearly more feminine. Well, not too much. "Let's not force it, all right?" After slipping her boots on and giving them a quick tie, she climbs up on the lower bunk's edge so she can be face to face with Vandenberg. "Gotta go to work. See you later." A quick peck is all she gets, with a suspicious glance towards Constin - although it's quickly replaced by a smirk as she gets an idea. "What are you standing around for, Gunnery Sergeant? This ain't a peep show!"
"Uh huh," Elf grunts skeptically to Vandenberg at her alleged 'good behavior'. Looking back to Khloe at her scolding, he cracks a tight grin and notes, "Swear up and down, sir. You shoulda been a marine." The most relaxed salute he has ever manage is given to Khloe as the off duty pilot walks toward her waiting duty.
"Uh huh," is Van's only reply to Khloe. Riiiight. That smile on her face is quite playful. She looks to the pilot when she rises to the bunk and she returns the peck. "Be safe, darlin. See y'tonight." She winks and then chuckles at Khloe's remark to Elf. The retort from him gets a few nods of agreement but nothing more. This opinion has been voiced to her mate several times.