"So that's a no on the super suit for my very own, huh?" Alex quipped with a broad grin. "Probably a good thing. I'd have maneuverability worth those prefab cardboard nutrient creations of yours if I tried to climb into the ship's innards with one on." With a soft exhale, she concluded, "But I'm glad to hear you say 'safe company', even with a qualifier, Captain."
She backed away from the couch with round, gray eyes, shooting a look at him over her shoulder. "Wait. So you don't know HOW she got on board? So you've been what: playing tag? That's, ah...that's...Really?" Maybe she didn't like him because she'd been skulking about the ship, learning his intergalactic data search tendencies, before he caught on. His face gave nothing away; he seemed quite honest about the situation. Except then a further explanation was forthcoming. And his face remained immutable.
"Kidnapped," she repeated, feeling disbelief chase through her brain, facts nipping at its heels to try to piece together which was the joke. "Contracts..."
I am not a nice man...
Right, but...he said safe company. Really, he means 'babysit', not 'kidnap', right? And it sounds like more than bounty hunting anyway. What other kind of contracts does he take other than babysitting a royal for a little while? She stared at a spot between his suited shoulders as he stooped to retrieve one of the packs of garbage from the couch and plucked out a cigarette. A sinking sensation in her gut said Captain Fenris--not the fire-lady herself--was responsible for her being on the ship, and she knew to listen. Not listening to her gut was the reason she'd wound up strapped to an interrogation table on the Dem Vuong, after all. She processed everything in a flash, Jallee's attitude, Zasz's comments thus far, the way he continued on this track with more specific information--the kind that said it wasn't a joke at all.
"She seemed kind of pissed at you to have paid you to keep her out of harm's way for a cycle or so," Alex said slowly. "I'm going out on a wire here and guessing someone she doesn't like paid for your babysitting--princess? sitting--skills." He confirmed the woman's distaste and Alex laughed uneasily. So much for clinging to the hope that he hadn't actually meant kidnapping. "Did you at least tell her she's going home? After whatever blows over? She might be less feisty that way. You know. Less inclined to blow off the head of your completely-uninvolved-in-kidnappings passenger...Oh! Or was that like...part of the contract?"
A curious peering over the back of the couch, a shifting back and forth between her feet. "Not that she seemed particularly interested in listening to reason--what other kinds of things do you take contracts for? Where do you keep her? Did you get a contract to salvage the Dem Vuong too? Is 'does random things for a fee' a good retirement plan? It seems kind of dangerous what with the fire-ladies!" By the time she'd gotten her questions--most of them ones she'd not normally bother with in the face of actual logic and none of them actually directed at anyone in particular--spilled into the air this time, her voice had retreated to a higher pitch and her breath was shallow. Alex took a step back and focused for a moment on Zasz's smoke-obscured face, then darted a look at his helmet, which he extended.
It was a distraction. She knew it was a distraction, and she absolutely was going to take it anyway. Because what else did one do when one's brain was working out a whirlwind of nonsensical data but retreat to the familiar, the safe, the sane? Alex clutched the construct in one hand, juggling it between her datapad and comm. Then she stared at it. Blankly. And then more intently, as her brain clicked onto a familiar engineering track. Slowly letting go the more ridiculous of her concerns, working more logically once more. "Sorry," she murmured, "about that. Sometimes I get a little carried away. I'm sure you have this under control."
She shook her head and felt clean, long strands of her hair shimmer across her back. Clean. It'd been so long since she'd had somewhere clean and humanizing--somewhere she didn't have to fear being hauled away to endure pain. She didn't have to fear that here. Wait. My back...that means...With a tug, she pulled the blanket up a little higher. It must look in total shambles, she thought with some dismay. Freckles. Moons, he'll be seeing freckles and scars and so many freckles... She gave it another tug to try to maintain modesty, remembering her fall and that she hadn't exactly had the wherewithal to make sure she was presentable. Unfortunately, higher on the shoulders also meant higher on the thighs.
"It's funny...because most times I hear 'contracts' and think 'bounty hunter'. But you're not that, are you? You do salvage...and you're not hunting Jallee down, you're bring her back. Eventually. So it's more like, you're a jack-of-all-trades kind of captain." She blinked down at the helmet, prodding at a sensor tucked near where his ears would fit. And after all, he'd rescued her. She wasn't part of this contract business. She was the interloper here, and a guest on his ship. A ship she was supposed to fix--so they'd all survive landing at whatever port he needed to drop Jallee.
Calmer now, which might have been entirely due to the helmet--like a child's security blanket--Alex chuckled at his tease over the sheet. "I'm sure it's all the rage in the Venusian sector. But moons if I don't feel like I'm doing some kind of unfortunate walk of shame. Like someone nicked my clothes while I was having a good time--except I was really, really not having a good time..." she finished lamely, and rolled a gray gaze toward where he stood. At the word 'tools', she brightened, straightened her shoulders, all of her work to tug at the blanket nearly coming undone with the movement. He was on the move before she could answer. Probably because he knew as well as she did the answer would be an enthusiastic yes.
With one last glance flicked toward the royal sprawled on the couch, she jogged after his greater strides to the elevator. "I'm gonna assume since you're leaving her there that I won't have to worry about a shotgun to the face while I'm working."
She backed away from the couch with round, gray eyes, shooting a look at him over her shoulder. "Wait. So you don't know HOW she got on board? So you've been what: playing tag? That's, ah...that's...Really?" Maybe she didn't like him because she'd been skulking about the ship, learning his intergalactic data search tendencies, before he caught on. His face gave nothing away; he seemed quite honest about the situation. Except then a further explanation was forthcoming. And his face remained immutable.
"Kidnapped," she repeated, feeling disbelief chase through her brain, facts nipping at its heels to try to piece together which was the joke. "Contracts..."
I am not a nice man...
Right, but...he said safe company. Really, he means 'babysit', not 'kidnap', right? And it sounds like more than bounty hunting anyway. What other kind of contracts does he take other than babysitting a royal for a little while? She stared at a spot between his suited shoulders as he stooped to retrieve one of the packs of garbage from the couch and plucked out a cigarette. A sinking sensation in her gut said Captain Fenris--not the fire-lady herself--was responsible for her being on the ship, and she knew to listen. Not listening to her gut was the reason she'd wound up strapped to an interrogation table on the Dem Vuong, after all. She processed everything in a flash, Jallee's attitude, Zasz's comments thus far, the way he continued on this track with more specific information--the kind that said it wasn't a joke at all.
"She seemed kind of pissed at you to have paid you to keep her out of harm's way for a cycle or so," Alex said slowly. "I'm going out on a wire here and guessing someone she doesn't like paid for your babysitting--princess? sitting--skills." He confirmed the woman's distaste and Alex laughed uneasily. So much for clinging to the hope that he hadn't actually meant kidnapping. "Did you at least tell her she's going home? After whatever blows over? She might be less feisty that way. You know. Less inclined to blow off the head of your completely-uninvolved-in-kidnappings passenger...Oh! Or was that like...part of the contract?"
A curious peering over the back of the couch, a shifting back and forth between her feet. "Not that she seemed particularly interested in listening to reason--what other kinds of things do you take contracts for? Where do you keep her? Did you get a contract to salvage the Dem Vuong too? Is 'does random things for a fee' a good retirement plan? It seems kind of dangerous what with the fire-ladies!" By the time she'd gotten her questions--most of them ones she'd not normally bother with in the face of actual logic and none of them actually directed at anyone in particular--spilled into the air this time, her voice had retreated to a higher pitch and her breath was shallow. Alex took a step back and focused for a moment on Zasz's smoke-obscured face, then darted a look at his helmet, which he extended.
It was a distraction. She knew it was a distraction, and she absolutely was going to take it anyway. Because what else did one do when one's brain was working out a whirlwind of nonsensical data but retreat to the familiar, the safe, the sane? Alex clutched the construct in one hand, juggling it between her datapad and comm. Then she stared at it. Blankly. And then more intently, as her brain clicked onto a familiar engineering track. Slowly letting go the more ridiculous of her concerns, working more logically once more. "Sorry," she murmured, "about that. Sometimes I get a little carried away. I'm sure you have this under control."
She shook her head and felt clean, long strands of her hair shimmer across her back. Clean. It'd been so long since she'd had somewhere clean and humanizing--somewhere she didn't have to fear being hauled away to endure pain. She didn't have to fear that here. Wait. My back...that means...With a tug, she pulled the blanket up a little higher. It must look in total shambles, she thought with some dismay. Freckles. Moons, he'll be seeing freckles and scars and so many freckles... She gave it another tug to try to maintain modesty, remembering her fall and that she hadn't exactly had the wherewithal to make sure she was presentable. Unfortunately, higher on the shoulders also meant higher on the thighs.
"It's funny...because most times I hear 'contracts' and think 'bounty hunter'. But you're not that, are you? You do salvage...and you're not hunting Jallee down, you're bring her back. Eventually. So it's more like, you're a jack-of-all-trades kind of captain." She blinked down at the helmet, prodding at a sensor tucked near where his ears would fit. And after all, he'd rescued her. She wasn't part of this contract business. She was the interloper here, and a guest on his ship. A ship she was supposed to fix--so they'd all survive landing at whatever port he needed to drop Jallee.
Calmer now, which might have been entirely due to the helmet--like a child's security blanket--Alex chuckled at his tease over the sheet. "I'm sure it's all the rage in the Venusian sector. But moons if I don't feel like I'm doing some kind of unfortunate walk of shame. Like someone nicked my clothes while I was having a good time--except I was really, really not having a good time..." she finished lamely, and rolled a gray gaze toward where he stood. At the word 'tools', she brightened, straightened her shoulders, all of her work to tug at the blanket nearly coming undone with the movement. He was on the move before she could answer. Probably because he knew as well as she did the answer would be an enthusiastic yes.
With one last glance flicked toward the royal sprawled on the couch, she jogged after his greater strides to the elevator. "I'm gonna assume since you're leaving her there that I won't have to worry about a shotgun to the face while I'm working."
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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