Wednesday, October 28, 2009

[USS Charon] SD240910.28 || Personal BackLog "Earrach" || CHO - Sakarra Tyrax

Spring of 2398
[Arandel, Betazed]
He woke to the sun tickling his nose and his first reflex was to pull the blanket over his head. Way too early. WAY too…. blanket? There should be a blanket here somewhere…  whoa.
Alright, so,… not dreaming. Warm sun. Arm hurt from pinching. Actually, some other parts of his body were complaining, too. Lots of parts.
Let's see…
Yup, real.
His hand stopped just a few millimeters above the sleeping woman's shoulder. The lass radiated heat like an oven, but somehow he was afraid if he touched her, she'd either wake up and smack him or he'd find out she wasn't real after all. Okay, yea, the smacking was more likely.
Saints in Heaven.
His cautious moving about had succeeded in producing a mumble from her, and here she went claiming the last tiny bit of blanket.
Definitely real. Definitely her.
"Good morning, luv. You think I could have that back… never mind."
He chuckled when she tried to roll over and stretch at the same time, her soulful black eyes blinking sleepily.
"Hmmm never mind what? Dia duit ar maidin."
"Nice cocoon you built for yourself there. That cold?"
The Fairy Queen in his bed made an unidentifiable sound, possibly something in between an amused huff and a yawn, and stretched some more.
Well, if that was how spirit folk ensnared you, someone had to re-write a few stories here and there.
His smile grew wider when he brushed some of the wild black curls away from her face and traced the contours of that pretty ear hidden underneath the mass of fragrant hair, prompting a swatting move from the sleepy woman.
"Come on, luv. You know how Moshe gets when people show up late."
Some mumbled words in a lovely Vulcan accent which he couldn't understand for the life of him followed that statement before she succeeded in pulling the silks over her head, making it clear to the universe at large that for the moment at least she was staying right here, thank you very much.
Not that he would have minded staying right here, too. Not at all.
In fact, if he could have his way he'd not leave this very spot for quite a bit.
Yea, and if space were made of oatmeal…
"Hey." he whispered again.
"Fa-'afau sar-tak na'veh."
"Unless that meant 'Yes my love I'm getting up now', forget it."
Finally, she managed to turn around and peeked up at him, mischief sparkling in the depths of her eyes. "What if it meant that I'm not getting up because I have other plans?"
"We both know it didn't, luv." And before she could make true on her threat (and more importantly, before he could jump at the chance of making her make it true), he dragged his sorry carcass out of bed, snatching the little Fairy Queen, blanket and all.
He had half expected she'd get annoyed, possibly mop the floor with him or worse. But all she did was quirk that adorable brow at him and smile in a way that promised trouble. All kinds of trouble.
Through the thin fabric he could feel the contours of her body as she nestled against him and the beating of her heart, so much faster than his own.
"I think I'll need a cold shower. Come to think of it, so do you, luv."
The jab to his ribs came quite unexpected and knocked the air out of him, resulting in the young woman to slide to her feet with the grace of a cat.
The silks she had wrapped herself in fluttered to the floor, but rather than push her attack, she winked and strode off, leaving a laughing human in the middle of the room.
"You are the devil."
"A devil who despises cold water" came her reply over the sound of falling water, as steam began to billow through the door.
"Naturally." he smirked and for just a moment, considered following his black haired beauty into the little sauna she had created, Moshe and everyone else be damned. Something told him she wouldn't take unkindly to the idea…
Sighing and grinning at the same time, he looked over the mess that had once been his bedroom. Wow. So much for that nightstand… how the hell had they managed to break… ah, right.
That uniform was a bit on the disheveled side, too, so maybe he should find a new one… yes, definitely a new one.
Chuckling quietly to himself, the young man with the ruffled hair tossed the ruined clothes and selected something more appropriate from the closet before making his way to the kitchen.
Sausages were off the menu, but pancakes sounded pretty good.
When she came strolling into his kitchen, her nose moving in appreciation, he almost laughed out loud. In the universal way of women all over the quadrant, the little half-Vulcan had ditched her uniform for the next best thing available, meaning one of his shirts. It might as well have been a dress, albeit a rather short one that displayed her long, slender legs in all their copper-toned glory. And still, for such a small woman her curves were lush and deep.
"An bhfuil ocras ort?" he smiled at her, expertly handling the pan while appreciating the view.
"Starving, actually."
Wrapping one arm around her waist he pulled her closer, while she rose on her toes to snatch the piece of pancake from his fork.
"Greedy one."
"Hm. Uttaberries?"
"And some terran maple syrup, courtesy of an old friend."
"I didn't know you can cook."
"And I didn't know Vulcans have a sweet tooth."
That actually prompted a small melodious laugh, which in turn made his heart skip a beat "You don't know the half of it."
"I'm learning." he mumbled as two warm arms reached around his neck, holding on tight, and then in one lightning fast move she was gone, having commandeered the plate with the food.
"Oh, am I learning." he laughed. "Enjoy, luv. I'll go see about that cold water."
Or maybe a bucket with ice cubes. At least if there was to be a chance in hell they'd make it to work with no more than a few hours delay.

[End Log]

Lieutenant Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon