PHD #339: Swimming
PHD #339: Swimming
Summary: Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the pool…
Date: 31 Jan 2042 AE
Related Logs: None
Khloe Shiner 
Athletics Area - Deck 12 - Battlestar Cerberus
A large pair of mats dominates the center of this room, their centers taped-out for a small area to practice boxing or other martial arts. Around the outside are treadmills, bikes, weights, and an impressive variety of gym equipment to help tone and shape the bodies of the crew. To one side of the room is the locker room while at the rear is a hatch that leads back to the oversized swimming pool. Off to the side is a rack that holds boxing gloves, pugil sticks, and the associated pads for the sticks.
Post-Holocaust Day: #339

Shiner is over on the mats for once, sweat slowly drenching his gymwear as he crunches his way through situps. Well, those abs don't just take care of themselves, you know.

Today must be opposite day, because when Khloe arrives in the athletics area, she's dressed for swimming. Or, at the very least, she's seen grabbing a fistful of sweatpants and hiking them up back above her hips where they belong, as the nylon one-piece underneath seems to be not condusive to keeping clothing where it should stay. Her usual work-out bag is slung over her shoulder. And she makes her way over to the pool.

Shiner does pause briefly in his situps, elbows at his knees, because, well… sweatpants sliding down around that famed ass. And then she's heading for the pool? He rolls upright, touching a hand to his chin and cracking his neck. Curious, he follows after her, leaning up against the wall when closer to the pool in order to keep an eye out. Doing his lifeguardly duty. Or something.

Giving a careful but obvious self-conscious glance around, the Captain sets her gear down and begins the process of disrobing down to her swimsuit. Most officers would likely have swim gear, likely acquired over the course of a tour or two, or even assigned new gear at the beginning of a new commission, like the Cerberus was a year ago. Khloe's suit looks brand new, or perhaps never used. And she sticks a finger underneath one of her shoulders and shrugs, trying to get it to rest better.

Shiner doesn't interrupt this vision, jaw dropping open just a little as he watches, one hand absently wiping sweat from his eyes. Presumably just case he is, in fact, dreaming. There may be drool.

Folding up her sweats and stacking her shoes on the bench above where her bag is resting, Khloe begins undoing her braid, hastily tugging it free, and then wrapping it up with a simple elastic. She then pads over to the side of the pool, and again gives a paranoid glance around, as if being some sort of crime by being in the vicinity of a large body of water. She then unceremoniously plunks down into the water, awkwardly grabbing the side of the pool as she does so. And, with a certain degree of panic, she grasps at the lip of the pool, frowning at the fact that she almost went under.

Shiner tilts his head to watch, absently pulling a foot up behind him to stretch the muscles, simultaneously tugging off the shoe just in case. Something in that tiny brain of his has kicked in, despite the obvious redirection of blood flow to less vital organs right now, and his lifeguard sense is tingling, just watching the pilot enter the water like that.

Muttering something quietly to herself, the Viper Captain then slowly pushes off from the side of the pool. At first it appears she was going to attempt a rather elegant breast stroke, but she ends up swallowing some water, and in a fit of coughing her form degenerates to a adolescent doggie-paddle.

Despite now being mostly underwater and thus not easily viewable, Shiner continues to keep a close eye on the pilot, either for safety's sake, or, more likely, to give him fuel for lonely evenings with only Mrs Palm and her five lovely daughters for company. Off comes the other shoe, and he sets them down quietly, rolling his shoulders.

She treads water for a second, running her hands over her face and getting the last of her coughing under control. Obscenities muttered slightly louder, she begins her attempt at a forward stroke again, and has some reasonable amount of success. Her form is not perfect, but the effort is there. When she reaches the opposite end of the pool, she pauses, looking around again. That's when she spots Shiner. Her head tilts and her jaw tenses. "I frakking knew it," she grumbles, and begins to attempt to clamber out of the water.

Shiner hurriedly looks away, stretching! Look! He's stretching! Arm over the head, pulling on the elbow, totally stretching and not ogling. Who would even think such a thing!

A soaked Khloe stalks over to where her bag is, tugging out a towel. "Always one frakking mouth-breathing gawker," she says for Shiner's benefit, glaring at him whilst toweling off. "And don't frakking deny it, either."

Shiner can't help but look. She's talking to him, after all. "Uh… safety, sir," he manages, with a firm nod. "You're supposed to have a lifeguard on duty when the pool's used, sir." He briefly taps his chest, then gives a tentative wave. "Lifeguard, sir."

"Right, how many times have you used that excuse?" Khloe asks, resting the towel on her shoulders. She's not nearly dry yet but she's still grabbing for her sweats. "And if you're a lifeguard, why aren't you over by the lifeguard's station?"

Shiner raises an eyebrow, gesturing back towards the mats in protest. "I wasn't on duty here, sir! I was just working out, and I saw you come by! What if you'd drowned and I wasn't here, sir?"

She arches an eyebrow. "I'm not stupid enough to get into the pool and not know what the frak I'm doing, Midshipman." Although from her inelegant and awkward swimming form, that's debatable. She's holding her sweatshirt to her front as if it was some sort of shield - modesty is not something most pilots still cling to, especially when they share living space. Still, for whatever reason, she's attempting modesty in front of Shiner.

"Sir, I've seen more confident swimming out of a sack of spuds," Shiner points out bluntly, setting his jaw. "Frak, but that's not the point, sir! You just don't go into the pool alone. You don't. There's got to be some frakking regulation you can no doubt quote me about it, but I'm frakking /right/. You know what I did before I signed up, sir?" He waves an arm towards the pool. "This. Making sure folks don't drown in pools."

"How old are you, Wright?" Comes Khloe's sharp retort. "'What I did.' You make it sound like it's some kind of frakking career, and you're, what, twenty? Twenty one? And I smoked a lot of rock and shot crap into my veins at your age. That doesn't give me the authority to bust into Pharmacology or Sickbay and tell them what to do." She pulls the sweatshirt over her head, wet ponytail already soaking her back.

"You're a frakking dickhead, then, aren't you?" Shiner retorts, gritting his teeth. "You learnt to kill yourself, I learnt to save people's frakking lives. You know what? Just for frakking /once/, I think I did something frakking right. I did something better than you. And you're /still/ a dickhead if you're swimming on your own. Got that?"

Khloe points a finger accusingly at Shiner. "Watch your frakking mouth, Midshipman. Even if I'm doing something you don't approve of you do not address a superior officer in that fashion." Sweats get tugged on next. "And don't you quote regulations at me, Mister. I know regulations like how people know the Scrolls. It's my religion, and you have no grounds trying to blame your perverted gawking on some kind of regulations. Now you better check your attitude before I throw your ass into the brig."

"I'm right, huh, sir?" Shiner replies, eyes narrowing. "If you're going to frakking swim, get a lifeguard. All right? Drowning to death when there's toasters ready and willing to kill you is a waste of a frakking pilot, sir. You want to swim, let me or one of the PT guys know. What, you don't want them to see that you can't frakking swim? Is that it?"

Khloe narrows her eyes, although she's quiet for a moment before responding. "I used to swim a lot, you know. There was a municipal pool in the trailer park where I grew up. Free for Nakah Valley residents. Sure, it was the poor-peoples' pool, but it was fairly clean, and not a lot of people went there." She sits down on the bench, a bit heavily, next to her shoes and bag. "I was pretty good, too. But that was when I was a kid."

Shiner squints over towards the pool, no longer actually watching her. "If you want to swim, sir, come and let me know. I'll always take a swimming partner, and if you want a hand with anything..?" He shrugs. "You're helping me learn to fly, right? I can maybe repay the favour here."

Glancing up at him, she admits, "I used to love the water. I could swim like a fish. Now, every time I get near it, I'm nervous." She rolls her shoulders and clenches her jaw a little, clearly holding something back. She's not willing to share with Shiner, especially not here. "I'm… not sure I'd be okay swimming with someone, you know. If you're going to be annoying about not swimming without someone else around, then maybe this was just a bad idea. And it's my duty, Wright, to train you how to fly, although I'm not much of a Raptor pilot. Your duty is to be the best pilot you can be. And not a frakking lifeguard."

"If you're nervous, get a frakking lifeguard on hand," Shiner insists stubbornly. "And swimming's good PT. Which is in my training schedule, sir. Frak's sake, it's not rocket science."

"You're… missing the point." Khloe says, with a slight sigh. "I'll just stick to the things that don't require someone gawking at me while I do it."

"Funny, sir, could have sworn you told me once that you couldn't stand a quitter," Shiner notes offhandedly, bending to peel out of his trousers and padding over towards the edge of the pool in his boxers, toes on the edge, ready to dive. "So are you quitting, or are you coming for a frakking swim?"

Khloe's eyes narrow again, glaring at the impudent Midshipman. "You really know what to say to cheese me off, you know that," she states. Standing up again, she begins peeling off her sweats, down once again to the very new one-piece. "I'm going to regret this. Frak, I already regret it." And she pads over to the side of the pool, arms folded guardedly across her chest. "You're going to swim in your shorts?" She asks. "That can't be hygenic."

Shiner glances back at her and shrugs, simply dropping trou and tossing the shorts back towards his pile of clothes. Apparently unconcerned with exposing himself to the world, he lifts his arms over his head, then performs an almost perfect full somersault and dive, hitting the water with barely a splash before surfacing a few seconds later, raising an eyebrow at Khloe in challenge.

Both eyebrows go up. "That… is not what I meant. What the frak is wrong with you, Wright?" She asks, arms still folded across her chest. Brow now creasing in a frown, she steps off into the water, nowhere nearly as graceful as his swan dive. "You so much as tell anyone about this, and I will kill you."

Shiner half grins as he swims over to her, powerful strokes gliding through the water. "I like swimming," he explains simply. He beckons her, then, slowly backing off through the water. "Come on, let's see what you can do. You want to kick my ass, you have to reach me first. And I /know/ you're just itching to haul right off and slap me one."

"I'm not about to go back to the brig, Midshipman, and it's improper for you to taunt a superior officer into beating you. Because the gods know, you have it coming." Khloe's first to just tread water forward, and then once again attempts a forward stroke resembling something like a breast stroke. She seems to have some difficulty getting all of her limbs to coordinate and move together; most of the woman's athleticism is in bike and running cardio, and strength training.

"Yeah, but it's just you and me here," Shiner points out reasonably, keeping up pace backwards to keep the distance between them. "And you already said I tell /nobody/. Try just the arms first," he adds, demonstrating briefly. "Let your legs relax and float, and start the stroke from your shoulders."

Khloe attempts to swim with just her arms but she ends up underwater again. A spray and a half-cough and she's back at it, managing to keep afloat this time. "Well, the more I say it," she sputters, "The more it'll get drilled into your skull that this. never. happened."

"Relax!" Shiner insists, treading water to let her in closer. "Smooth strokes, from the shoulders. And sure, never happened. Okay. Whatever you say, sir. 'scuse me," he adds as he moves in beside her, sliding a hand beneath her to support. "Now will you frakking relax?" Because having Shiner's notoriously gropey hands anywhere near her is sure to GUARANTEE that.

The moment Shiner goes to support Khloe underneath, there's a violent thrash in the water and she jerks away from him, arm going up as if she was going to pound him. "What the frak was that?" She spits. Her arm is shaking; it's as if she's doing everything in her power not to deck him.

"What the..!" Shiner exclaims, backing off. "What is frakking /wrong/ with you!" Other than being stuck in the pool with a naked Shiner, presumably. "If I hold you up, you can concentrate on your frakking /stroke/, numbnuts!"

Slowly her arm drops to her side, disappearing beneath the water. "Warn me when you do something like that, would you?" She breathes, the edge still in her voice.

Shiner looks momentarily irritated, then there's a flicker of amusement, before he shakes his head, flicking water from his hair. "No worries, sir. Right. I'm Going To Support You Now," he announces clearly, slowly extending one arm. "Just frakking trust me, would you? I know what I'm doing. Now. Arms. Stroke. Smooth and long, from the shoulders. Better. Face down in the water when you're pulling through. You go faster and easier. Like the pointy nose on the Viper, right?"

Khloe eases back into her forward stroke, relying only on her arms. When Shiner goes to support her again, there's a slight jerk away, but she doesn't pull away like she did earlier. Her entire core is tense at the touch, like physical contact with another human being is painful for her. But she muddles through the strokes, and gets better at his direction.

Shiner moves along with her, encouraging, "Good, good. To the edge now, face DOWN, I said! In the water. You won't drown! Face up when you bring your arms to your chest, okay? Breathe then, and then face down for the stroke."

Khloe does as she's instructed, finally beginning to relax into the flow of things. Every so often, she'll flinch or tense up if he bumps into her or she otherwise feels his arms or hands move against her.

Shiner must be forgetting himself, spectacularly failing to get in even the slightest grope. "Now legs," he urges, nodding earnestly as he slowly moves his hand away and keeps pace beside her, eye on the stroke instead of the fine, pert ass. Seriously, it's like somebody kidnapped Shiner and replaced him with a pod person or something.

Khloe kicks, adding to the smooth rhythm she's discovered with Shiner's help. And, unsurprisingly, she seems to be a natural at it. It's just unpracticed technique that's held her back… that, and whatever hangups she has about being seen in a pool, or wearing a swimsuit, or what have you.

Shiner watches critically, then gives a nod of satisfaction, taking a moment to roll his shoulders and throw himself into a rapid length of the pool to blow off the cobwebs before returning to her. "Happy with that," he decides, moving to the edge of the pool to heave himself out. Still dripping, he heads over to his pile of clothes and takes a seat beside them, asking, "Hey, can I borrow your towel? When you're done with it, I mean?"

"Actually, you can have it, and keep it," Khloe offers to him, resting her arms folded on the edge of the pool. "I'm not going to want it after you've nakeded all over it. I'll get one from the facilities here."

"Well, that's why I thought you'd want it first," Shiner points out, then shrugs, snagging the towel anyway and starting to dry himself off and redress. Sans shoes. Just in case. He'll stay until Khloe's out of the pool, after all. "You /can/ swim," he notes, wrinkling his nose. "Not bad, either. So what's the big deal with the splashing around earlier?"

Hoisting herself out of the pool, she pads over drenched to where towels are provided by the athletics staff. "I'd not mind fetching my own if it means not having to see you naked. No offense, but I have to put up with that from Spiral in the berths." After a quick toweling off, she again rests the towel on her shoulders with her ponytail inside. Her eyes darken a bit, and she sits by her gear, which is not too far from Shiner. "That's a bit personal. Suffice it to say I don't like being touched."

Shiner pulls on his socks, throwing the towel around his shoulders for now. "Seriously? Huh. No wonder everyone says you're a fr— akking good pilot," he recovers, freezing in the middle as he realises just what he was about to say.

Khloe nods slightly. "Say it. Frigid. Cold. It's true, and I don't consider it an insult. My mind is on my duty and I really want nothing to do with relationships, casual sex, or any other dalliance."

"Dude, no wonder you're so frakking highly strung," Shiner opines, rubbing his hair dry. "Shit, if I don't get any for a while, I get pissy too."

Khloe frowns slightly. "How typically male of you," she mutters. "It would probably explode your testosterone-driven mind to know how long it's been since I've last…" She shakes her head. "I'm not getting into this conversation with you." And she starts pulling sweats on, for the second time.

"How long?" Shiner challenges, tilting his head. "You're not telling me you're a virgin, right? Because that would be a serious waste. You're hot."

Khloe smirks wryly. "I'll take that as a compliment. And no, I'm not. If I tell you, will you stop prying?" She asks, although she lookas as if she already knows the answer to that one. "It was back on Tauron. Tau Garrison. So, about… six years or so."

"It totally is a compliment," Shiner insists with a nod. "I mean, if I didn't think you'd rip my balls off and feed them to piranhas, I'd totally ask you out and everything. Seriously. You're smoking."

"I'm old enough to be your mother, Wright," Khloe laughs dryly. Well, if she were a teenage mom, sure. "And you're dangerously close to violating fraternitization rules. I appreciate the compliments, just… end it there. And there's no point, anyway." She slips her feet into her shoes. "I don't enjoy sex. Not really. And from what I know about you, that's all you're good for. Well, maybe two things. Swimming lessons, as well."

"You're just doing it wrong if you don't enjoy it," Shiner insists, rising to his feet. "When I've got my wings, sir, and it's not frat any more or anything, will you come out for a drink at least?"

"I don't drink," comes Khloe's quick reply, slinging her duffel over her shoulder. She leaves the towel crumpled on the bench where she was. "Thanks, Wright. For understanding." And with that, she turns to leave.

Shiner looks surprised. Puzzled. And then finally amused, calling after her helpfully, "I'd totally do you, sir!"

Khloe pauses in her departure, frowning. She holds up a finger, wagging it in a no-no fashion, tsking. And then she leaves the athletic center, apparently having enough Shiner for one day.

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