LtJG Jocelyn Marshall and (PNPC) LtJG Orson Marshall - Wild Animals
Jo Marshall
(( Corridor, Deck Thirteen, USS Gorkon ))
::Jo held her neck as she twisted it back and forth, side to side, feeling the connected muscles crunch and pop. Her eyes were heavy and she moved with the trudge of someone who had been awake for days rather than relaxing on shore leave for weeks. The 47 steps to her quarters from the turbolift were memorized and she could make, and had made the journey, with her eyes closed.::
::Her hand reached out for the control at the side of the door but it didn't sound. She opened her eyes to find her door already open, the inside of her quarters lit to a dim level and someone standing inside in front of the window, their shadow stretching along the carpet.::
::Well... shit.::
::Of course, the correct response would have been to call Security, but her instincts took over and she stepped carefully into the room, then reached for the manual light control, sliding the panel upwards. The lights increased and recognition dawned on her face, a blond haired man with wide shoulders, and her face immediately contorted from surprise to an angry scowl.::
Marshall: BEAR! What the HELL?
::The statuesque blond bearded man turned and a wide grin spread across his face, which dropped the second he saw the reaction on his sister's features. She gripped her fists by her side as anger boiled and burned inside her, then pointed at the door.::
Marshall: Leave.
::He said something else but she didn't hear him, her heartbeat now thumping loudly in her ears, and she diverted into her bedroom, sealing the door behind her closing it on his intruding form. She leaned her hands on either side of the doorway while she dealt with the flash of rage that spread through her like a virus.::
::Goddamnit, why did he have to show up now.::
O. Marshall: ::muffled:: Open the door, soral. ::he was silent for a moment:: I just want to talk.
::A deep breath was inhaled and exhaled in a long stream by the young woman, vision trained on the door as though beams would shoot out from her retinas and take him out. She closed her eyes and willed the rapidly growing fury and ire for her brother to dissipate until she had the patience to deal with it. Against every single better judgment present in her brain, she pressed the control again and the door slid open, one hand hovering over the button just in case while she glared at him.::
Marshall: You've got some damn nerve.
::He lifted his chin, his usual stance of defiance; a bear being prodded was never a good thing, then he dropped his head almost sheepishly, like a wounded animal, but she knew better.::
O. Marshall: Come out. Please.
::The temptation to tell him to sling it clawed at her like a demon trying to escape hell, then she dropped her hand to her side and moved into the main living space. The tall man moved further and stood between her bedroom and the living room area, surveying her personal quarters, focusing on the assortment of pictures on her desk and lingered a little too long on a small tendril of a plant starting to sprout in a pot beside her computer.::
O. Marshall: You've taken up horticulture, I see. I don't remember you growing a thing in your life.
::Jo followed his scrutiny, then crossed her arms protectively over her chest and shot him a look.::
Marshall: What do you want, Bear?
::He slid his hands into his pockets and gave her the side-grin that always made him look like a young boy again; a look undeniably like their father. His shoulders lifted and his gaze dropped to an array of holoimages; a variety of good memories, some from Over There when the Engineers would pool rations for a mini-party to keep morale up during a brownout; her attempt to give Caedan a drunken back ride on Risa; herself and Sera on the rare evening out - people and situations she knew Bear wouldn't recognize. Then, there were some of her family, their family, enjoying life on Volan III. There was one, just one, of Bear and George, smiling and joking with one another.::
O. Marshall: I've been assigned to the Gorkon. I thought we should talk.
::The statement hung in the air between them for a long moment and Jo's eyes narrowed.::
Marshall: To do what exactly?
O. Marshall: Ranger. They had an opening and I figured it would be a good opportunity to spend some time with you.
Marshall: Bullshit.
::Bear laughed then gripped his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head, ocean blue eyes sparkling. He picked up the potted soil from the desk and toyed with it in his hands, causing a spike of anxiety to swell in the Ops Officer. She stamped that right out. Never show weakness to a wild animal, that was just common sense.::
O. Marshall: I never could get anything past you. I'm glad to see that hasn't changed.
Marshall: It won't ever change. What do you want? Stealing my car not enough for you? Come to take my plant too?
O. Marshall: I needed to get away for a while. ::he paused again, then touched the green sprig:: Did you get the car back?
::Jo crossed the room and snatched the pot from his hands, placing it back down on the desk. Bear moved to where her newly modified bike stood in the corner, running his fingers over the handlebars with a casual familiarity she wished he didn't have before leaning against it.::
Marshall: Customs picked it up. Some lunatic was trying to take it off the planet.
::She shot him a look and he took the silent beating without question. The moment stretched again as silence overtook them and Jo leaned her arms on the back of the sofa; putting a physical barrier between them without realising exactly what she was doing. Bear, to his credit, picked up on the social cue and didn't move this time, only crossed his arms.::
O. Marshall: Look, I'm sorry. I was out of line, I know that I just... I needed to get away and I knew it would make its way back to you. I'm sorry. I hope you know that I'd never do anything to hurt you.
::Jo resisted the urge to scoff.::
Marshall: I'd agree but then we'd both be wrong.
::Bear exhaled a laugh and pushed himself up off the bike, standing to his full stature. He could be imposing, sometimes even appear threatening, if the smaller woman didn't know exactly where his pressure points were and had demonstrated as much in the past. They weren't children anymore, this wasn't a game; he wasn't stealing her Springball glove or framing her for pinching their father's isolinear chips. He was forcibly invading her personal space, her home, for his own agenda, and she didn't have a choice about it. She never did.::
O. Marshall: I am. I've caused this... ::he indicated to the space between them:: ...and I intend to repair it. I'll be here for a while and I don't want things to be awkward between us. We're going to have to work together.
Marshall: I can be professional. It doesn't mean I have to like you. Or talk to you outside of work, for that matter.
O. Marshall: Noted. ::his mouth moved as though he were on the brink of saying something else, then changed his mind.:: You're still my little sister. I want to know what you've been up to, have a drink, talk, be involved... like we used to. We used to be so close.
::Jo swallowed and looked at the floor. That seemed like such a long time ago; before their competitiveness had amped up further than either of them had imagined before Bear had found ways of chipping away at her self-confidence, before she had been trapped in another universe, faced with the Dominion and found a life of her own with a new family. He was being pleasant, apologetic, nice even, back to the brother she used to know. It had to be another one of his games - it just had to be.::
Marshall: Why? Why are you doing this?
O. Marshall: Doing what?
Marshall: Treating me like a person. Like I actually matter to you.
O. Marshall: You do. ::his head tilted:: You look like you want to rip my head off.
::She did. At that moment, she really did, but when she looked at him all she saw was her big brother; overbearing, protective, and colossally stupid, but her flesh and blood nonetheless. Jo was quite sure the frown was going to be a permanent fixture on her face if she didn't do something about it. She hated this pent-up feeling; what if he did just want that back? Was it really that hard to believe? She sighed to herself and wiped her hands over her face before dropping them to her hips.::
Marshall: I'm sorry, my face just does that sometimes.
::Bear smiled, tight-lipped, reminiscent of the looks he used to give her when she couldn't figure something out; that knowing look. He took a step toward her, only this time Jo didn't move. His hands gripped her upper shoulders gently and he kissed her forehead.::
O. Marshall: We'll start small. I really do want to make this work, Jo. I want to be part of your life.
Marshall: A small part. A very small part.
::She rubbed her forehead when he moved again to the door, trying to get rid of the ticklish feeling the bristles of his beard left behind on her skin. Something wasn't right; she could feel it coiled like a heavy rope in her stomach. When he reached the door and it slid back, he gave her a wide grin with those happy eyes that reminded her so much of their mother, and Jo managed a small smile in return.::
O. Marshall: Have a good night. We'll talk tomorrow.
::The moment the door slid closed behind him, Jo let out a long and relatively unsteady breath, hands coming up to rub her upper arms. Something cold crossed her skin, someone dancing on her grave light-years away. He left his scent behind; a mixture of home, even though they had been away for so long, and the undeniably familiar smell of the fissure she had been trapped in on Starbase 173. She looked to the growing seed in the pot on the desk and focused on it until the feeling of uncertainty ebbed.::
::She was tired, that was it; she was tired and feeling the temperature of the room more than she would on a normal day. Picking up an errant glass from the table, she threw it onto the recycle pad and walked into her bedroom, pulling off her uniform as she went.::
TBC
Lieutenant JG Jocelyn Marshall
Operations Officer
USS Gorkon
G239304JM0