Meidra froze, a bitter smile on her face.
Sirin: Let me hurt him.
Sherlock: I’m just going to tell him to leave.
The counselor was going to argue until Mel walked towards them, his face lacking his normal grin.
Martinson: ::looking at Meidra:: Hello, I’m Mel.
Meidra’s voice took on a chill that few had heard in many years. She stared at the man, ice green eyes never wavering from his now nervous gaze.
Sirin: Lieutenant Meidra Sirin, Aine’s friend, and shipmate.
Mel’s head reeled back in shock at Meidra’s brusqueness. He was clearly unaware that the pair had been talking about him.
Martinson: Aine, I’m really sorry about earlier. I feel terrible.
Sherlock: You should! It’d been three years. You said you still cared, but that clearly wasn’t the case!
Martinson: I thought you’d want your privacy.
Sherlock: Oh, friggin’ likely! You were ::making finger quotes:: too focused on your career! REMEMBER!?
Sirin: Aine, perhaps this is the part where you tell him to leave.
Martinson: ::to Meidra:: Her and I need to talk, ok?
Mel reached out and grabbed Aine by the arm, something he’d never done before. Aine was normally never afraid of physical confrontation, at times she almost encouraged it. This was different. She knew Mel, and getting physical was not him. She was shocked, almost scared by it. She froze.
Time moved fast and the next thing she knew, Mel slumped to the ground. Aine hadn’t even noticed the move Meidra had made. Meidra watched the man slump to the floor with a certain sense of satisfaction. She’d thought herself out of practice. Smirking at her success, she turned to Aine.
Sirin: Are you uninjured?
Sherlock: Yeah, I’m ok. Just a little shaken.
One of the patrons must have called Security when the shouting started, a couple officers in gold shoulders showed up almost immediately. One of them seemed to already know Meidra. She waved at him, winking.
Security Officer One: Oh great. You again.
Sirin: Officer Simmons, you’ve let your hair grow 3 point seven millimeters. It softens your harsh face.
Security Officer Two: You’re both coming with us.
Sirin: We hardly need Security after handling this ourselves.
One of the Security Officers grabbed Aine by the arm. Her brow furrowed in drunken confusion. Meidra’s fingers twitched, but she remained still.
Sherlock: Hey! What the hell!?
Security Officer One: You’re being detained until we can figure out what happened here.
Sherlock: Is this a joke!? We didn’t do anything! He grabbed me!
Sirin: I am a witness. She was attacked.
Security Officer Two: Tell it to the Judge Advocate General, get moving.
Out of the corner of her eye, Meidra was certain she saw Iljor’s surprised face in the crowd, but she’d have to explain things to him later.
Lt. Martinson simmed by LtJG Aine Sherlock
Lieutenant Junior Grade Aine Sherlock
Lt Meidra Sirin