Fifteen minutes prior to the scheduled meeting time, Chris has set up a podium made of stacked ammo crates in the center of the squadbay. He double checks his watch, waiting for everyone to arrive.
Becky, surprisingly, does something short of bouncing in. Her energy levels are up, she's got grass in her hair, her face is stained with dirt and her uniform is filthy, but she looks positively energetic. She's got a small coil notebook and a few pencils with her.
She drags a crate over to Claire and plops down beside her. Becky then notices a piece of straw in the birds' nest of her hair before plucking it out.
"Med evac is fun," she says, then putting her hands on the edge of the crate between her legs, heels on the floor, "And the weather was nice today. AND they had pancakes in the chow hall."
Becky just smiles a prim "I'm not gonna tell you" smile, and kicks her feet. Her body language indicates she wants to gtfo of here and go to more evac!
She drags a crate over to Claire and plops down beside her. Becky then notices a piece of straw in the birds' nest of her hair before plucking it out.
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"...why're you so damn peppy?" Claire seethes with mock hate!
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"Med evac is fun," she says, then putting her hands on the edge of the crate between her legs, heels on the floor, "And the weather was nice today. AND they had pancakes in the chow hall."
She apparently is thankful for the little things.
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He winks and laughs.
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"...well, fuck."
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He laughs and begins to gather his notes up.
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"That'd be fun, as long as you promise not to hit me with the rotor blades," she roots for a pencil.
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She flops back down and covers her eyes. Claire's at least four ibuprofen from being able to tolerate optimism.
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Chris laughs out loud.
"Because I want some of that."
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