Monday, May 24, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241005.24 || Joint Log "After the storm" Part VI || Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax, Brevet 1st Lt Brent Warren, Ens M'Riarr, Lucia&Marcello

=/\= Eris Deck =/\=


It took every last shred of Vulcan composure not to yelp when the terrible cold hit her. To Brent's credit, he had once more made a spirited attempt to spare his little Vulcan from the dreaded cold shower, leaving him nearly as drenched as Sakarra.

Well, at least Lucia had been more accurate in finding her targets. Only a bit of smoldering table bore witness of the near catastrophic event. And the band hadn't even stopped playing.


The ice shower was not amusing and when Brent saw that more things were flying around he grabbed Sakarra tightly and leaped out of the way, pulling her up so that he could absorb the landing himself before he turned his head back, looking to see if everything was alright before he let her down to her feet again and stopped his death grip on her. "It would appear that we are both all wet my love," he said amused as he looked down at his soaked little Vulcan before turning back and looking towards the other party participants.

"You guys throw one helluva party here!" Brent said as he nodded with approval before throwing up the horns. He looked to Sakarra and chuckled seeing droplets of water fall off of her hair  "Shall we have one last drink before we depart my love," he said to her as he put one arm back around her and looked for a table that had not been destroyed in the most recent festivities seeking out a strong drink to help 'warm' the two of them up.


"Evidently, we are." It was difficult to keep her teeth from chattering in the temperatures that were already far below what any Vulcan would find comfortable. Even Marcello's heartfelt "Scusa, signorina, oh, scusa" while he proceeded to wrap just about every dry and unscorched tablecloth in the vicinity around her and the Marine was of little help.


"Eh? Is no good now, stupido. Is soaked Signorina Vulcan."

Shaking her head, Lucia returned from shooing flustered party guests out of the burn zone and gave her husband an amicable slap.

"Si, amore."

"You go. Get tea. Avanti. Heluva party,eh? Veramente. Does burn, too." A friendly poke to Brent's shoulder accompanied the latter statement and in a dash, Lucia was off again to see about getting the detritus removed and improvising new seating arrangements.


Whether it was due to the long stare out of twilight blue eyes or the fact that their commander would have been quite capable of bodily relocating the two marines had they not moved, the grinning young males hastily vacated the plush seats that Brent was steering towards. But if Sakarra had thought her would let her out of his firm grip, she was mistaken. Wrapped both in meters of table linens and muscular arms, the little Vulcan found herself balanced on her companion's lap while a still mightily apologetic Italian pressed a glass of – tea. With rum. Into her hand. Rum with tea. Goodness.

This time, Sakarra hiccupped.

Quietly enough for only Brent and Marcello to hear, but her eartips flushed emerald all the same.

"Is la mamma recipe, signore marine." Pretending he had not heard a thing, Marcello handed another glass to Brent that distinctly smelled of even stronger alcohol than the rum. "Made from herbs. Is healthy."


The hiccup drew a laugh from Brent as he flicked her nose gently. "Bless you,' he said and kissed her cheek, stopping as the Italian man brought over some booze of some kind for the two of them.  Brent nodded his head and took his offered drink. "Drink your medicine," Brent said and squeezed his arm around her waist. He took a long drink from his own. Letting out a controlled breath as he gave the drink an appraising eye of approval. "I need to get the recipe for this thing, I'm starting to feel better already," he said with a smirk.

'Well my love it would seem that we have just experienced a bit of a party now here haven't we?" he said with a smile. 'Once you finish drinking that up we should go back to your quarters.  You can tell me then what you were about to say before your assistant interrupted us.'


"A bit. I concur."

All in all, there had been no Klingons shattering tables nor large flightless birds trampling the buffet. On the scale of disastrous parties the little Vulcan had been involved in … this was perhaps a three. Point five if one counted the ice water. And no one had to come bail her out of jail or placate miffed diplomats with feathers and spilled drinks stuck to their robes. No harm done.


Freezing as she was, even a human's body temperature was a welcome reprieve and people appeared quite busy with other things now, so Sakarra decided to let decorum be damned for the moment. Draining the soothingly hot beverage, she allowed her body to mold against Brent's muscular frame and quirked an amused brow at his silent look of surprise.

"It would be illogical to not benefit from your body warmth." Just as it would be illogical to throw the empty glass at Mr Tisdale's smirking face – but that did not mean she did not have the urge to do so.


The band had switched to a decidedly Latin-American tune that had several of the crew – and not only the already rather intoxicated ones – dance on every flat surface which included several tables.

By the time M'Riarr had rid herself of the tattered remnants of a tablecloth and joined the dance again with an utterly enchanted scientist in her paws, Sakarra estimated they had about three point two seconds before their table was going to be utilized as well … ah, two point eight.

"Yes, my quarters might be advisable, ashal-veh."

Two furry paws kicked happily at an empty champagne bottle and the impromptu missile soared past a saxophonist who ducked just in time, adding a rather disconcerting noise to the music.


Brent winced as he saw the empty bottle tossed around. He helped Sakarra up to her feet before he took the tablecloths off of them and set them down on their couch. "Yeah. We might want to get out of here while we still can," he said and watched her for a moment. She still had a bit of the warm liquid left in her cup. He looked down at the liquid then looked back up at her and tilted his head slightly. He shook his own glass as if to tell her that he had finished his and that now it was her turn. He waited until she had given him a huff and consumed the last of her liquor and tea. He smiled at that and put his arm around her waist before leading Sakarra out, much to the dismay of the chef and a few others in the room but Brent insisted and eventually won the day.

After several minutes of saying goodbye the doors closed behind them as the couple left Eris Deck and Brent let out a large sigh. "Your friends are something else," he said with a smirk as the two of them walked towards Sakarra's quarters.



Not that she had chosen any of them – somehow Mr Tisdale and his entourage had simply decided to attach themselves to the little Vulcan and make her their 'pet project'. And although she could not help but quietly appreciate the unasked for affection, it could be … overwhelming at times.


Grateful not only for the relative peace and quiet of the corridor – relative, seeing as some of the party was already beginning to spill out through the doors in the form of singing marines – but the warmth of the human next to her, the little Vulcan allowed Brent to lead her gently towards her quarters and nearly sighed with relief when the warm, clean air enveloped her.

A few more minutes and she might actually have been unable to suppress the little shivers already crawling up her spine.


The doors had barely swished shut and Sakarra had already rid herself of the dripping robe, standing on the soft carpet with silk clinging to her body and small droplets still falling from heavy sable curls. Standard Vulcan lighting had automatically bathed the rooms in warm copper tones upon their arrival, adding a luminous shimmer to the slender figure moving purposefully towards the bath.

It would have been the perfect image of a Vulcan having weathered a minor turbulence with no more ill effect than a little water. The hiccup unfortunately spoiled it somewhat.


"Poor thing," Brent said as he pouted a little bit, sticking his lower lip out as he took Sakarra's hand.  "I know of just the thing to help warm us up again," he said with a wicked grin on his face as he began to lead her back towards the bathroom nearby. "Come now. You can tell me what you were just about to say to me, before M'Riarr decided that it was in our best interests to interrupt us in the lounge."  He smiled as Brent pulled her into bathroom, and wrapped his arms around her. "You've had me in suspense from that time on out..."


"I did?"

And speaking of suspense …

There was definitely more than just the concern for a Vulcan who had a much too close encounter with ice water in the way Brent removed the silk from his beloved just as there was definitive mischief in the nonchalant way he flung his own clothes over the basin.

But at least for several blissful seconds any such thoughts dispersed as wonderfully warm water came streaming down, immediately causing a delightful shock.

Careful hands pulled gold pins out of already soaked curls until the mass of heavy tresses fell over Sakarra's back and she lifted her face to look into amused ocean blue eyes.

"I am assuming by 'helping us warm up' you were not merely referring to the shower, yes?"

=/\= End Log =/\=


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander


LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helm


Ensign M'Riarr

Assistant Helmscat


Lucia & Marcello


USS Charon