[JP] Lt. Marshall & Lt. (JG) Josett - Commonalities (Part V)
Quinn Reynolds
((Personal Quarters, USS Gorkon))
Josett: Five years. ::Her smile caught again, a tiny quirk at one corner of her lips. Not at the memories themselves, for there was nothing even close to amusing or pleasant about them. No, it was for the fact she was reciting the tale at all.:: Until I snuck into the spaceport and stowed away.
O. Marshall: Five years. ::He repeated, a touch awestruck at the wiles such a feat would have taken on Cardassia, in the wake of the near-genocide. The planet a ruin as people tried to cope with catastrophe on an epic scale.:: Where did you end up?
Josett: In the Syndicate. And thus began my pirate escapades. ::She breathed out a chuckle, bringing her glass up for a sip. That was quite enough of that, an exceeded quota of scars and tender parts prodded.:: Look at you, getting all this out of me. I told you that you'd be good at intelligence.
::Bear shook his head, accompanied by a sighed grin. He dropped his palm onto the rise of her foot and ran his thumb along the creased arch. When he brought up his glass for a drink, it was a quick one; knocked back and gone in a second.::
O. Marshall: And all it took was losing a few hands. I think you're going easy on me.
Josett: Next you'll be accusing me of having a soft spot for you.
O. Marshall: I would never.
::She chuckled into her shot glass, flexing and wiggling her toes. Accused of the truth, that would never do. Her convivial demeanour returned as they veered away from talk of her origins, and Lena nodded in amused satisfaction — of his response, and the change in subject.::
Josett: Good. I have a reputation to maintain.
O. Marshall: As the ruthless assassin pirate, so I'm told. ::He slipped his thumb in between her toes.:: I wonder what that reputation would be like if they knew how small your feet are.
Josett: The Tiny-Toed Assassin. ::She sighed in a show of staged despair.:: Why do you think I wear such chunky boots?
O. Marshall: Because you have about as much stealth as I do. ::He chuckled, tugging on the smallest one.:: Is that death trap shuttlepod of yours sitting pretty in the shuttlebay still?
Josett: It is. Why, want to take it out for a spin?
O. Marshall: Only if you're driving. Whip around the solar system, get off the ship. Park up in orbit somewhere, ::he nodded to the bottle on the table,:: and finish the rest of that.
::Lena considered that for a moment, her amber eyes travelling to the bottle, and then wandering out to the stars. Just the idea of getting away from the Gorkon, even if it was only a short distance, brought with it weightless sense of euphoria akin to throwing off prison shackles and stepping out into the sunlight. Or perhaps, as her gaze fell on the glass in her fingers, that was just the alcohol sinking in.::
Josett: I shouldn't. ::She threw back what was left of her drink.: Which absolutely means that I'm going to.
::A swift glance out of his window into the vastness of space beyond, the glowing marble of Earth below, stars twinkling in the black, and Bear couldn't wait to leave the confines of the ship. Despite being human, Earth wasn't home, had never felt like it, and he wasn't going to start trying to force it. He chuckled and squeezed her foot, kicking his own to the floor.::
O. Marshall: Then I'd better dress, before the flight crew have a heart attack.
::The hybrid wrinkled her nose at the suggestion, eyeing him up and down with a rueful sigh.::
Josett: Really? Can I change my mind?
O. Marshall: No, but you can try and talk me out of them again. ::His eyebrow cocked.:: Is this one of those soft spots for me I'd never accuse you of having?
Josett: Let's call it an appreciation for the canvas you invite the universe to imprint on.
::One that the Romulan hadn't appreciated quite as much as Lena had, Bear's various states of undress drawing numerous complaints, both verbal and non-verbal, during their sojourn on the Scream. She grinned and swung her legs down to the floor, scooping up the bottle to cork it.::
O. Marshall: And the universe does like to tattoo me in colour.
::He moved toward the bedroom and glanced back as Lena stood. The hybrid was stunning; but as she rose from the sofa, the simple act of doing so was somehow untouchably beautiful. Before the thought could linger, he acknowledged it, let it go, and slipped through to his rooms. Dressed in short order, he ran his hand over his head and air dried hair until it stuck up in all directions, while the haziness of a hangover and chasers loitered between fuzzy brain cells. Boots back on, bottle in hand, she eyed him with a grin as he returned.::
Josett: We're going to regret this in the morning. You, more so than me.
O. Marshall: Regret is a short-lived emotion for those who don't believe in the folly of their own decisions from the start. ::The corner of his lips ticked up in a grin.:: Do I look like someone who has regrets?
::That prompted a chuckle and a shake of her head, curls bouncing off and over her shoulders. He'd voiced doubts when they'd been alone together, in those warm and quiet moments between plans and actions, and doubt and regret were a couple that forever danced hand in hand. That, she knew from personal experience.::
Josett: You don't want me to answer that question. ::She jerked her head toward the door, a tease sparkling in her eyes.:: Come on.
O. Marshall: I— ::He went to retort but the words hung in his open jaw.:: —don't want you to answer that question.
::And dutifully followed the pirate out of his quarters and into the corridor beyond, only after swiping up the deck of cards from the table. One swift glance at the hand she put down and he shook his head.::
O. Marshall: I knew you were cheating.
Josett: The trick is not getting caught at the time. ::Her copper gaze wandered up, surveying the bottle green carpet, sterile walls and bronze accents of the Starfleet corridor.:: I'm not sure I remember how to play by the rules. Which is going to make this interesting.
O. Marshall: This being the stealing of your own shuttlepod from the shuttlebay? It's easier than it looks. ::He huffed a breath from his nose, slipping those cards into his pocket.:: Unless you were talking about the card game, in which case, I don't think you ever learned the rules to begin with.
Josett: You're not wrong, ::she flashed him a quick grin,:: but I was talking about being on this ship.
O. Marshall: Don't think about them as rules so much as guidelines. Don't get caught with weaponry in the corridors, don't drink to excess unless in the confines of your own or a friend's quarters… ::He shrugged, dodging an oncoming Andorian with a wiggling antenna.:: First ship you've been posted to?
Josett: It is. I'm sliding into Vondaryan's shoes as the resident Syndicate expert. ::She chuckled.:: I'll just have to find a way to live up to his six months of classroom study into the subject.
TBC...
--
Lieutenant Orson Marshall
Logistics and Communications Officer
USS Gorkon
G239304JM0
&
Lieutenant (JG) Lena Josett
Intelligence Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0