[USS Charon, Deck Ten]
Brent stepped into his quarters and tossed his PADD away onto his desk. It skittered to a stop near the opposite edge as Brent began to take off his uniform jacket. He had an idea in his head. He had just gotten off of duty thanks to the crews new helping AI. It seemed to be quite intelligent and rather remarkable. Brent decided he'd have to take advantage of her help as much as he could. Especially if it meant more free time.
He looked at his five oclock shadow in the mirror and frowned, getting his razor and beginning to shave it away. Brent wanted to look his best or at least mostly his best tonight. When he had washed away the rest of the cut hair and shaving cream Brent hit his communicator and took a deep breath, wondering if this would go well at all...
"Lieutenant Warren to Commander Sakarra."
[Deck Three]
She heard the commbadge chirp even over the sound of falling water and for 0.5 seconds Sakarra pondered the benefits and drawbacks of Vulcan hearing and the laws of nature that said people always wanted something when you were … mildly inconvenienced.
Then she recognized the voice following the brief sound and quirked a brow. This situation had a familiar feel to it, however one never knew if he did not require assistance with ship's matters.
The dark eyed young Vulcan shut off the shower and walked towards the desk, trailing water from the soaked curls of her raven-black hair.
"Good evening, Lieutenant. How may I help you?"
"Sakarra," he said with a smile as Brent examined his shave job in the mirror. Looked good. Damn good. He nodded with approval. "I owe you a drink I believe. I have a bit of unexpected time free here and I was wondering if I could repay you that drink tonight," he said letting the question hang in the air.
Brent wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Should he be doing this? He would someday become a Sergeant again and there was that rather annoying problem of the rules against fraternization. Did he even have to worry about that? A part of him wished that he did, he liked Sakarra, even if he wasn't sure that he was getting through to her with his feelings. He'd have to do something tonight to push the issue. If he was even given a chance.
Drink? Ah, yes.
Alone in her warm and dimly lit quarters Sakarra cocked her head to the side and couldn't stop the tiny smile from tugging at her lips. She had not truly expected him to follow up on that offer but was rather touched that he had remembered.
She considered the matter for 1.4 seconds and decided that since everyone insisted she should socialize more she might as well do it with a person she held in fond regard.
"I am not certain 'repay' would be the appropriate word, however I too have no pressing duties and would find a drink quite agreeable.'
Not to mention the matter with T'Pelar and her staff had her on the verge of a major migraine. A small indulgence would not remedy matters, but it might prove an efficient distraction. At least for a brief while.
"Fantastic. Now my father really only gave me one piece of advice that wasn't related to farming on an iron rich high gravity world. He told me that I should never drink on an empty stomach, unless I wanted to get drunk really quickly. We should have dinner first. Would you join me on Eris deck then? Say in an hour from now," he said. "And just casual this time, we don't need to set ourselves apart from the other members of the crew there I don't think." Brent had almost wanted to in a juvenile moment tell her formal again simply because of the way she looked the last time he had told her that. However he had again been able to control the urge, and was left to wonder why he had been having such juvenile urges lately..
The story about his father and advice was true. The fact that it made a fantastic segue into a simple drink into dinner out was just a rather nice addition in this instance.
"Logical." The young Vulcan had to agree, if only from experience. And Miss Betty would certainly be delighted to see that her 'pet project' was exchanging the solitude of her quarters for the lounge without having been pestered and coaxed first.
And she certainly had no intention of getting intoxicated. The results could be rather unfortunate.
A thoughtful glance at her still dripping hair which was now beginning to feel slightly cold against her bare back and hips told Sakarra it would be wise to come to a decision as soon as possible.
"Very well, I shall meet you in one hour."
With unusual slowness, she touched the commbadge to close the channel and then turned around to glance at the large window where Warbirds still hovered over a planet bathed in hues of indigo and lavender as the terminator slowly crept across the globe, changing day into evening.
Was it rational to engage in leisurely socializing while they were still here?
The young Vulcan exhaled and the expression of mild humor flickered in her eyes again.
Kaiidth.
The most rational thing to do at this very moment would be to continue the interrupted shower. And turn up the water temperature by several degrees.
First he needed a shower. Spending the entire day doing PT and working witht he men to make sure they got their exercise meant that Brent probably had a bit of a scent to him. Afterwards he found a nice looking casual shirt that seemed to hang off of him just perfectly. He was young and should look good. It wouldn't do to look poorly and so he dressed himself nicely while still staying in the range of casual. After a few minutes of making sure everything looked good, Brent sat down and waited for the hour to go by. He idly wondered if Vulcan women, or Betazoid women take as long as human women take to get ready...
Eventually with such epic questions the time passed and Brent found himself sitting down at the bar in Eris deck. He had decided to start with a simple ice water, but told the bartender to set aside a nice whiskey from earth and two old fashioned glasses. He'd be ready when Sakarra arrived.
[Main Lounge, Eris Deck]
Rather grateful that she had been spared research this time, the young woman had opted for what would not only be most appropriate in a Vulcan social setting, but had the added merit of being made from Vulcan and Efrosian wool blends. Meaning, warm but smooth and soft to the touch and therefore exceedingly pleasant to wear. The long, burgundy skirt nearly swiped the floor were it not for the small heels on her shoes of the same color. The tunic on the other hand was rather traditional in that it did not sport the currently favored high collar but was wrapped closely around the wearer's upper body, leaving the neck free from constricting fabric. On one shoulder, red-golden Vulcan letters shimmered as only adornment and Sakarra found that her long curls would best be put out of the way in the same fashion she had worn the during the concert.
Strangely enough, it was young Mr Grax who voiced his approval rather loudly when the young Vulcan entered the lounge, employing a Betazoid phrase she had not heard in quite a while. Unfortunately, he was also fully aware of the not so hidden meaning of Sakarra's hairstyle and at the very moment she spotted Brent at the bar, commented on that as well.
Silenced by a well placed kick from Miss Hadley, the Betazoid narrowly avoided becoming the recipient of a 'Look' and Sakarra slowly made her way towards the bar with her usual elegantly measured stride.
"Good evening, Brent. You appear to have arrived early. If you are hungry, you need not have waited."
Brent heard the other language and looked over at where the man was directing it at. He smiled seeing Sakarra come into the lounge. She looked simply amazing again even in the casual dress that she had put on. He stood as she approached him. "Not at all. It's some genetic defect I think, my father was always early to things, so was his father, and his father, and so on. I seem to have simply inherited it. I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad," he said before his smile developed into a smirk. He motioned for the bartender and the man supplied the crystal bottle and two glasses for Brent and Sakarra.
"Come. Let's find ourselves a table shall we," he asked motioning out towards the group of tables in the lounge. He moved out, picking a nice table next to the windows there with a impressive view outside. He sat down the glasses before withdrawing a seat for Sakarra.
[To be continued …]
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm Officer
USS Charon
