Mess Hall - Day 15 - Open

[transwarp_beam]

[AKA the Let's Commiserate Over Stupid Shit We Did While Spored post]

Three days: only three days ago the first team had beamed down onto Bacchus II. It felt like bloody months. And now it was finally over

Comments

[crankychef]

Tony was awoken from his slumber in the storage closet laughingly called the "office" by gentle murmurs from the mess. Well, if there wasn't screaming, maybe they had survived without blowing u the ship after all.

He walked over to the serving station that jutted out into the mess. If Tony had been born a few hundred years earlier, he'd remark how it looked a bit like a school lunch counter.

Ahh, just the man he'd wanted to see, Scotty. Tony picked up a roll from the bowl that was kept on the top of the serving stations. Eventually, they were gonna run out of this kinda stuff if the guy in question didn't get people in there to fix his damn kitchen.

He threw it at the head engineer and simply called out "Yo, Scotty."

[transwarp_beam]

Scotty turned at the sound of his name just in time to see something flying at his head - on instinct he caught it and immediately winced, carefully lowering his hand again. He transferred the flying roll to his other hand and took a bite, munching thoughtfully. Not bad.

He set the roll aside and reached for the bottle again. "Aye, what?" he said, taking a long drink.

[crankychef]

"When ya gonna get your crew in here to fix my kitchen?"

Tony grabbed a roll for himself and vaulted over a counter. He didn't bother to go around into the kitchen and back out the access door. Too much walking.

The chef plopped his unshaven, tired ass in the chair across from Scotty and took a swing from the Scotsman's bottle of hootch.

[transwarp_beam]

Scotty retrieved the bottle and tossed back a good half of what was left. Leaning back in his chair, he slid the bottle back across the table to Tony and tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Asking," he said eventually, "Askin' woulda been a good first step. What's wrong wi' your kitchen?"

[nurse_rousseau]

Rousseau was remarkably quiet this morning, the unusually cheerful girl merely ordering herself some fruit from the replicator with a yawn. After such an insane couple of days, she finally felt her heartbeat regulate, managing to be perfectly content without her body being pressed against someone else's.

Not that it had been at all bad. No. It had simply been...well, embarrassing now, to glance around her fellow nurses and doctors, knowing they had heard her cries of ecstasy. Rather than head over to sit with them, all smiles and beaming bright eyes, she found a quiet little table by herself and began tapping on her PADD, reading over her lecture quietly and calmly.

[lynn_creed]

Creed was still a little bleary-eyed as she made her slightly unsteady way across the mess hall, tray precariously balanced in her hands. Damn, she was exhausted. Apparently marathon Spored sex really took it out of you. Who'd've guessed?

If questioned she would blame her confused and sleepy mind for the fact that she was nearly at the table before she realised the other person sitting there was Charlene. The moment where she could have made a tactful escape passed while she was still frozen in place due to a short-circuiting brain. She figured she had two options: flee with some dignity still intact, or grow a pair and face the music - or in the case, the awkward morning-after conversation.

It wouldn't have come to a surprise to anyone who knew her that she slid into the seat opposite Charlene and said neutrally, "Morning."

[nurse_rousseau]

"Good morning~" She sang, despite how exhausted she was, still somewhat engrossed in reading about Andorian Labor Rituals. That was until she lifted her gaze up to the person that had sat down across from her, an embarrassed little squeak escaping her throat.

Right. Lynn Creed, was it? Technically a commanding officer, technically the woman that rocked her world a little during her brush with the spores.

Rousseau turned nearly as red as her hair, and she let her sight linger a little more before ducking beneath her PADD, finding the pictures utterly fascinating. Who knew Andorians could be so gentle with their childbirth process?

[lynn_creed]

Under the circumstances, her own embarrassment - already fairly mild - outright evapourated. Because that bright red blush? Painfully sweet, and absolutely hilarious.

"Are you alright?" Lynn asked solicitously. She barely restrained herself from breaking into an outright smirk.

[neat_science]

Sky walked into the mess hall, looking more like herself than she had in days. Back in neat uniform, long dark hair pulled back off her face, it still didn't hide the fact that her pretty face was still too pale, or that there were purple sleep deprivation bruises under the tired blue eyes. Or the fact that her arm was bound up and she moved carefully. Under the influence of the spores, she had forgotten everything...including the wounds gained on Bacchus II

[lynn_creed]

Looking distractedly for an empty seat, it would have been easy to miss one more quiet, restless figure amongst all the others. But nevertheless Creed's eyes happened to fall on Lieutenant Cavendish, and she frowned as she remembered that some of them had fared better than others under the influence of the Spores - although even many of those who'd seemed to be having fun at the time were now suffering from morning-after remorse.

Coming to a decision, she made her way to Cavendish's table, tray in balanced in her hands. "Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

[neat_science]

Sky looked up, surprised to hear the woman's voice and nodded quickly. "Of course," she said politely, smiling a little. Her brain supplied memories of the woman before her, Lynn Creed, head of Security, and it also shared recent feelings and images from when she was spored. Not only the ones of Creed and the pretty redhaired nurse, but also ones of the trust she had felt for the older woman. She had been kind to her, and Sky wouldn't forget that.

"Did you fare well with the rest of the spores Commander?" she asked, a small friendly smule tugging up the corner of her mouth.

[lynn_creed]

"Oh, officially I was compromised in an emergency situation and it was terribly embarrassing and unprofessional," she said solemnly. "Unofficially, though? It was fun. But you didn't hear that from me." She flashed Sky a smile and started slicing up a replicated sausage.

"How about you?" she asked, "Feeling better?"

[my_god_man]

Stepping into Mess, Leonard kept his head down and his eyes to himself. It'd been a long day of working with Pike's people. Some just because the nature of the work. And of course, what it reminded him of. There were a few wet-nosed jackasses, though, that'd past judgment on him and his staff for what had happened. For losing quarantine. For becoming infected as well.

Not that he didn't have the same criticisms for himself. But he'd be damned if he'd let some trumped up, soft-bellied academic take pop shots at his staff

[transwarp_beam]

Glancing up from his drink he saw McCoy enter the mess hall, enshrouded in his own personal cloud of ill-tempered gloom. If even half the rumours he'd heard were true, their CMO had had one hell of a night. But then again, hadn't they all? He knew he certainly wouldn't be forgetting the last few days any time soon. Possibly ever.

It was oddly comforting to see someone else less than thrilled with the whole situation. Scotty caught McCoy's eye and raised his glass in a wry toast.

[my_god_man]

He'd been scanning for that well-lit corner when Leonard caught sight of Scott. Damn, seemed like ages ago he'd seen the man last too. He remembered the last thing he'd said to him, yelling into the comm about the quarantine break. It wasn't a memory he wanted to attach to such an affable guy.

Catching the quirk of the man's mouth, and his alcohol in open display, Leonard figured things might be a little less affable for the Scotsman right now.

He debated about going on over. Scott couldn't be all that adverse to some company or he'd kept back in the shadows. And there were those shadows to contend with too. "Oh for god's sake," he muttered to himself. Really, was he gonna jump at every shade he encountered for the rest of his life? Steeled by that thought, and admittedly the small hope that maybe Scott would share some of that alcohol, Leonard carefully strolled over.

"Seems a shame not returning that toast properly. Mind if I join ya?"

[transwarp_beam]

"I'll drink to that," Scotty said, pouring a second glass. "Sit yourself down." He topped up his own glass too and left the bottle to one side; didn't bother putting the cap back on. They'd be refilling again soon enough. Casually he slid the other glass across the table, hoping McCoy either wouldn't notice or wouldn't question his cut and bruised knuckles.

"Been a hell of a few days, eh?" Scotty said. He raised his glass and smirked, a darkly amused edge to his expression. "Here's to a highly interesting first mission."