[JP] Lt. Marshall & Lt. (JG) Josett - Commonalities (Part III)
Quinn Reynolds
((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon))
::And thus, for the next few hours, the fate of the favour was sealed in a deck of cards on the small coffee table. Beside the bottle of unlabelled liquor Lena had deemed necessary for the proceedings, Bear picked the match — one with roots heavily grounded in a game of both gambling and drinking — and dealt the cards, taking pains to make sure she didn't get a sneaky look at any of his hands. Despite all of his cautionary nature, he was still pretty sure the pirate was cheating.
::He was absolutely correct.::
Josett: ...and the winner takes all.
O. Marshall: Something tells me you make your own luck.
::Said with an amused grin and a shake of his head as he chucked his cards onto the table, scattering his meagre hand in all directions. As penance, he picked up the shot glass between thumb and forefinger, raised it to his lips and knocked it back in one. Lena gathered up the cards with a smirk, the deck rippling between her hands with all the skill of a professional card shark.::
Josett: Can't rely on anyone else to.
O. Marshall: Best four out of five?
Josett: Are you sure your liver can take it? ::She chuckled, still shuffling the deck, and sent him a mischievous look.:: Don't care to bow out gracefully while you have the chance?
::Grace had never quite been his style and quitting a challenge even less so. Bear poured another shot for himself from the bottle, taking a second or two to line up the bottle properly and huffed in a laugh.::
O. Marshall: In a blaze of glory, or not at all.
::A motto to live by. Passing the cards over to him, Lena swapped the deck for the bottle and poured herself a shot. She lifted the glass toward him and grinned.::
Josett: To the impending fireball that is you.
::Cards shuffled between them, sitting ready for another round of having his backside handed to him through skillful means and his own ineptitude, he chuckled and knocked his glass against hers.::
O. Marshall: Burn, baby, burn.
::After the clink of glass against glass, Lena knocked back her shot, the alcohol searing her throat, an electric buzz under her skin. Bear followed suit, the heat in his chest as it trickled down. A sanguine moment out of the bloodied mess of everything else.::
Josett: Speaking of crashing and burning, are you intending on hiding in your quarters for the rest of your career, or just while we're in Earth orbit?
O. Marshall: I had considered retiring in here. ::He sighed wistfully, his head dropping onto the seat of the sofa cushion behind him.:: Keeping tabs on me, are you?
Josett: It's not been difficult. Do you have any idea how easy it is to gather gossip on this ship? ::She breathed out a sigh of faux — or possibly genuine — lament.:: I don't even have to work for it.
O. Marshall: Hang around on a corridor corner for long enough, you'll learn a lot. ::Exhaling, he picked up his cards from the table, and tried not to sigh again.:: What's the word out there?
::Rearranging the cards in her hand, Lena finally decided to kick off her boots, stretching out her legs and arching her feet. If not for the insipid Starfleet decor, she could have easily mistaken it for one of their nights on the Labyrinth's Scream; booze, card games, a pleasing repartee and a half-naked Bear.::
Josett: If I tell you, doesn't that make me part of the problem?
O. Marshall: That depends if you intend to use your powers for good or evil.
Josett: Which of those does teasing you mercilessly fall under?
O. Marshall: Both. ::He directed a wry eyebrow at her.:: And you blend it together artfully.
Josett: I do. ::Playing the first moves of her hand, she shot an equally wry look of mirth back at him.:: But since you asked so nicely, I regret to inform you that you're pining away in here because in the midst of your daring escapades you fell hopelessly in love with the Romulan, only to be spurned on your return.
O. Marshall: What can I say? Our eyes met over frothing vodka and Romulan assassins, and she captured my soul like she embodies the very essence of sarcasm as a person. ::It was an effort not to wince at how bad his cards were, so with a forced nonchalance, he played his opening shot.:: I don't know how I'm going to go on, if I'm honest.
Josett: Crewman Pacheco thinks it is the most tragically romantic thing she's ever heard. I agreed with her, by the way.
O. Marshall: Of course you did. ::He shook his head, shuffling his cards around in his hand.:: I'll make sure to ham it up around her. “How could she? After everything we've been through. I shall never love again. Are you free after your shift?”
::Lena laughed, pouring them each another shot, though she didn't yet touch hers. She could feel the alcohol warming her skin, washing a rose blush across her cheeks, and she slipped a hand under burnt caramel curls to let the cool air to the back of her neck. For all she thrived in undercover work, enjoyed dancing along the razor-wire of tension and danger it presented, she couldn't recall the last time she'd really been able to relax. It felt better than she remembered.::
Josett: Leverage those soulful baby blues. ::She grinned and then after a moment of quick, quiet calculation, she continued.:: Of course, a competing rumour is that while undercover, you saw and did dark and terrible things, and you're in here brooding, filled with torment, staring inconsolate at the stars.
::While an ironic chuckle slipped out of him, Bear placed his cards face down on the table, taking a moment to stretch his arms out to the sides and up above his head. That was a little too close to the truth than he cared to admit. Joints in his shoulders popped, muscles loose, a deep breath in and out. Relax the body and the mind follows.::
O. Marshall: Both of which add an air of delightful mystery I'll put to best use. ::He dropped a hand onto her knee and patted.:: Besides, I wouldn't say you were dark and terrible. More like an agent of chaos.
Josett: You are not the first person to say that.
O. Marshall: I don't doubt it. ::He leaned forward and slid his cards from the table.:: What do these rumours say about your sudden appearance from the mists of Ma no Umi?
Josett: You'll be interested to know that you're playing cards with an ambitious, ruthless assassin, responsible for the sudden disappearance of the ship's previous intelligence officer who had gotten too close to unravelling my schemes. ::Somehow, she managed to mix coy with crafty, tilting her chin just so, a mysterious smile glinting in her leonine eyes.:: But no one can prove it, so I had to be brought in from the cold to a place where I can be kept under control.
::Arguably, it made some sense. The Vissian had quickly vanished from the ship into the caring arms of Starfleet, a mystery illness contracted on the asteroid, as far as the reports went. As with any rumour, all someone needed was smoke and they conjured up fire.::
O. Marshall: A rumour you've delighted in spreading, I imagine. Under the watchful eye of a former intelligence director.
Josett: What kind of agent of chaos would I be if I didn't?
::It was a bad habit, really, considering she would have to work with many of these people in the coming weeks and months. Years? She hoped not. Just the thought of it was like insects crawling under her skin. From the very start, she'd put a limit on how long she was willing to serve in Starfleet, but the idea of spending a significant part of the remainder aboard one starship was suffocating.::
O. Marshall: What kind indeed.
TBC...
--
Lieutenant Orson Marshall
Logistics and Communications Officer
USS Gorkon
G239304JM0
&
Lieutenant (JG) Lena Josett
Intelligence Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0