Locked to plays_dirty

[mr_chekov]

When Pasha had rolled out of what she now considered 'her' bed and groped around in the dark for her communicator to check for her messages that morning, she was in for a rather unusual shock. Instead of her Starfleet issue communicator being where she had left it, on the bed beside her as she'd passed out for the night, there was instead what

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[plays_dirty]

Marcus is standing in his room shirtless in a pair of sleep paints glaring at a the bloody muggle device in his hand and the note, he's muttering under his breath when he hears his door open. He turns quickly and sees the frazzled haired women standing there. "That's my broom!"

[mr_chekov]

"That's my communicator!" She snaps straight back at him. "You must be a damned poor thief if you leawe you things at the scene of a crime!" Pasha was in a bad bad mood, waking up early had that effect on her anyway, but then having to go on a wild goose chase just to get her communicator? Not the best way to wake her up.

[plays_dirty]

"Hey, Hey I didn't steal any of your shit, You stole my broomstick, that's worth a 150 galleons." Marcus reaches his hand out and the broom flies back to him and he shoulders it. "What is this bloody thing?" He asks looking at the comm unit in his hand.

[mr_chekov]

"I am no thief! I hawe newer committed a crime in my life. I woke up with that damned thing next to me and a note on it to come and get my communicator." The broom flying out of her hands unnerves her. It was most irregular, inanimate objects weren't supposed to move on it's own.

"That is Federation technology and if you don't hand it back this moment there will be dire consequences." The navigator replies, with her hands on her thin hips.