Hit and Run
Hit and Run
Summary: Visits to Samantha in Sickbay involve many things you'd never expect to hear.
Date: PHD086 (13 July 2009)
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)
Players:
Samantha..Roubani..Kai..Hale..Timon..

Kharon - Recovery Ward

Samantha's arm is still in traction, the compound fracture on top of massive amounts of muscle and tissue damage ensuring that she's going to be laid up in sickbay for a while, sadly. Fortunately, everything else seems to have healed nicely and she's half sitting up, an old, tattered magazine in her lap and a coffee cup in her free hand. She looks rather calm and casual for all that's happened, possibly just having accepted her fate of the sickbay stranded or still simply rather drugged up (a mix of both?).

Once upon a time, Roubani was in the exact spot Samantha was. Down to the same arm in the same position in those braces and casts and plaster and metal. Roles and general sobriety reversed now, the Ensign spends some time setting things down by Dutch's bed before he makes his way any further in towards Samantha's.

Samantha looks up at the sound of movement in her direction, just a bit slow, eyes a bit touched by the morpha drip, but it's probably the only way she's sitting up and functioning through the pain. Her arm can barely be seen with the amount of stuff around it. She seems a bit surprised to see the man's face, he not having been someone she expected as a visitor, but it makes her smile never the less.."Hey, handsome…" She calls out to him casually.

Roubani meets Sam's eyes, then glances over his shoulder as if expecting her to be greeting someone behind him. The sad part? He's not kidding. "Lieutenant," he says as his eyes come back to the injured. He has a small plastic bag with him, dangling from the fingers of his left hand. "You weren't sleeping, were you?"

Samantha shakes her head quietly, "Nah, I finally convinced them to cut back the morpha dose. I kept fighting my way out of it anyway so I might as well be conscious and half functioning." And yes, she's clearly talking to him, not really flirting, but that casually fond smile on her lips that comes after a bit of comfort is developed friendship wise between them. He might not feel it, but she does. Barely surviving crashing on the surface of planets does weird things to people.

So the movies would have you believe. Roubani skirts away from smiling back by diverting attention to putting down the bag on the chair at her bedside. It crinkles. "They do seem to like to overdo it on the medications sometimes." A touch droll, that. We all remember one particular night in here. "It must be a humanitarian thing."

Samantha shakes her head slowly, giving a rueful smile in the direction of the doctor's desk, though her eyes are still amused. "Yeah, damn humanitarians." She chuckles a bit, though it seems to have picked up some of his drollness, before looking back to the younger ex-pilot, studying him a moment and then the bag he holds. "So, you jus' come to say hullo? 'sweet of ya… I'm goin' stir crazy in here."

Be glad for the droll, it's not often Roubani lets any humour out to play. "I suppose." He fiddles around in the bag and then sits down on the edge of the chair, thumping something into his lap. Magazines. A crankload of them. "I brought you some things to read, but I didn't know what you liked." He lifts the top one off the stack, holding it up so he can eye the pink cover. "Humidity-proof hair," he reads in the nasal tone of a man in tweed, lecturing from a podium. "Proven secrets of fighting frizz. Hm."

Samantha lofts a singular brow as she not only sees the magazines that he's dragging out of the bag, but he proceeds to give her a brief discourse on the cover of one. She all out laughs then, shaking her head, probably never going to lose that mental image…"I -see-… going to read the article to me too? You know, I coulda used these down on Scorpia. Maybe the damned toasters wouldn'ta laid into me quite so much if my flowing locks were smoother." She winks, sitting up enough to reach over and grab one of the other magazines from the stack, "…The Orgasm Whisperer: Why Every Woman Should Have One." She then stares up at him, "…reeeeally? Should I even ASK where you got these?"

Roubani has the first magazine open by now, flipping idly through the glossy pages. "Don't look at me like I'm responsible for this." He's passed the frizzy hair article. His eyes cut upwards and eye her selection as she reads out that title. "And all I've got are Secret Beauty Weapons. I abruptly feel inadequate."

Samantha grins widely, setting her magazine overtop the one she was reading and beginning to flip through it with her good hand. "…10 G-Spot Finders Found! If I didn't know better, I'd say you were comin' on to me." She winks at him, still smiling, definitely in a better mood for the company. "But thank ya, Poet… first person I seen all day. Yer…yer a good kid."

"I am breaking 'bro code' somehow, I'm sure," Roubani's prim tone turns the word dry, and he turns the folded magazine around to show her a brightly-spangled article claiming to prove once and for all that Size Does Matter. "Is this worthy of excommunication yet?" It's dropped back to his knee and he sighs quietly. "I'm not a kid, Lieutenant, but no offence taken. You're welcome."

Samantha rolls her eyes. "Younger than I am. I'm of the thoroughly hypocritcal opinion that all people younger than I are kids and all people older than I are grumpy old farts." She smiles wirly again before finally folding shut the magazing and bowing her head, "Yes, that wins, but only if you read the first paragraph aloud. I'm sick. You do the work." Her smile widens daringly, waiting to see if he takes the challenge.

"Women." Roubani snorts the word with no true malice, though he's very good at feigning it. He gives her the eye for quite a while before straightening the glossy magazine on his lap with a snap of the pages, clearing his throat. His mouth opens…seriously, it does…and he takes a breath. And then stops, sharply tilting his chin down. "Oh that's such a lie!"

Samantha laughs openly, even if that hurts more than a little bit, reaching her hand out in a 'gimmie gimmie' gesture, "Come on, share. You can't look like that and not spill. 'sides. It's a woman's magazine. I'll tell ya if it's a lie or not." She laughs a bit more, swallowing back a cough, tears momentarily in her eyes probably from a mix of amusement and trying to move her arm just a bit too much.

Roubani pulls the magazine away, crossing his legs away from her so he wins the game of keepaway. The magazine stays over his hand, tilted up precisely so she can't see the words. "Clearly they should let men write these…" His eyes skim over a few more words and he pahs under his breath. "I don't think you want to hear this anyway. No, no, it's quite boring. Dull. You'd fall asleep." As a brow raises and he makes a pointed 'whoa' kind of face at the text.

Samantha just -stares- at him, totally not believing and that is all too clear on her drugged and slightly exaggerated expression. "Come on, dish. I'm waitin'. I'll tell ya if it's wrong or not. 'sides…help you when you finally find a woman, right? You brought'em in, you gotta follow through, handsome. One paragraph, that's all I ask. Read."

"Well it's not about you, you see." Roubani makes another face at the magazine. "I mean, I'm just not sure I can handle knowing whether Dash…" He alters his voice, quoting drily, "…lets his penis take over the night."

Samantha is happily not drinking coffee at that moment, or she'd probably be choking on it. She blinks through the shock and then chuckles quietly, "I will… not elaborate on anything… IF you read me that paragraph. If you don't well, I might just have to let my imagination get away with me about what it's saying, and if I share those thoughts…yanno… not my brain that's bleeding.." Yes, blackmail it is!

"There is nothing left for the imagination to do anymore, I promise you," Roubani says, still reading. Ugh, fine. She asked for it. He clears his throat softly, his face already flushing a faint red. "Let's face it, men love their …" He just said the word, but now he's back to make an absent gesture in the air with his finger. YOU KNOW. "From the time he is born, it becomes his best friend . He will love it, fondle it, get mad at it, respect it, listen to its opinion, and get in trouble for it…are you happy now?" His eyes flick up from the page at her, eyeing. EYEING.

Samantha bites her lower lip, trying not to laugh too loudly again because, dammit, it -hurts-! She clears her throat, shaking her head and leaning back to listen to this all though she doesn't dare close her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the blush rising up his cheeks too, too much. "Oh, come on, that was -so- not a full paragraph. End of paragraph, then I'll be happy. Come oonnn. I'm sick… "

Good lords. Roubani pffts, rubbing the side of his finger by the end of his nose. "Women simply don't care about size," he continues from the text, pedantically. "There will be the odd ones who say it is very important, but they are usually the ones who…" He pauses to sigh and clear his throat. "…love aggressive sex. For women, they are marvelous toys, and no matter what they look like, they're exciting." He pauses to lightly suck his teeth. "You can't be serious."

Samantha crosses her legs at the ankles, trying to keep herself breathing a bit slower lest the doctors decide to come intrude on her fun. It's the best time she's had since being laid up in this place! She giggles a bit more, shaking her head…"What can't be serious? Now you have to share that. if you keep looking horrified I'm just going to keep it up, you realize. We started this, let's finish it." She grins warmly, waiting.

"I'm not horrified," Roubani defends himself adamantly, with a mild sniff. "But really, marvelous toys? Is that what goes through your heads?"

Samantha rolls her eyes, chuckling warmly again as she allows her head to rest back, considering. "I don't think I've ever actually thought or used the phrase 'marvelous toys' before but… well, they are pretty damn fun, you know. All we have are boobs to play with and those get so boring after the first 13 or so years." She may be trying to give him a heart attack as she turns her head, flashing an innocent smile.

"If that were the truth," Roubani gives back, rather cattily, "Then every time a washing machine broke before spin cycle, it wouldn't be all the ship's females that complained, now would it?"

Samantha pouts just a bit…"We don't complain THAT loudly, come on. But breasts, they just… Hang there. Penises," she pauses, thinking, "Penii? Anyway…well… they go up, down, longer, shorter, adorned, spring back into place, you could play foam horse shoe on them… I mean, really!" She does her best to list this off as casual and simply factual as possible, like giving a weather report.

"-ises," Roubani says, drily. "It's a third declension noun, not second declension. Much like 'virus', of which I should say they share more comparable traits than just their linguistic roots." He clears his throat, rubbing one reddened ear. "And 'spring back into place'? My gods. You shouldn't be detaching them."

Samantha laughs again, breathlessly, she really shouldn't be but she can't help it. "Frak, I don't mean take them off… but, yanno, if things are getting hot and heavy and you like… move it to one side it pops right upright again! Like a spring. It's cute." She watches him with that same grin as before, eyes glistening with moisture from amusement of this whole matter. His blushing only makes her worse.

"I doubt this article discusses the useful oscillatory properties of such body parts," Roubani says, giving the magazine another hairy eyeball before shutting it over his knee. "I surrender. Science is dead."

Samantha allows one last little chuckle to escape her lips before she drops her head back and just catches her breath a few moments, staring at the ceiling…"Thank you, Nadiv. I… needed that." Sam admits quietly, a touch more somberly than before, no longer grinning like an idiot, simply smiling in his direction as she uses her good hand to dab at her eyes.

Kai arrives from the Sickbay - Deck 2.
Kai has arrived.

Hale arrives from the Sickbay - Deck 2.
Hale has arrived.

Roubani clears his throat softly. The flush on his face is quite real and takes a while to fade, even as he continues rubbing at his ear. The magazine's set aside, but another gets picked up, idly. The blue cover blares 'Orgasms Unlimited' in bright yellow. "Always willing to sacrifice my dignity for the greater good." He looks at the new cover drily. "But I'm afraid I'd need a proper Foley artist for this one." He's sitting just by Sam's bed, the two talking. There's a stack of glossy women's magazines on the end table and a couple lying strewn on sam's bed.

Samantha looks over to the fresh magazine on top of the stack and it's blaring cover. She laughs again, "Orgasms unlimited? Come on, Nadiv, clearly these magazines hold the secrets to all our future happiness! Cylon war's on? Frak it, I can have unlimited orgasms, and your girl can too! Repopulating the species never was so easy since these magazines taught the human race the secrets to unlocking the marvelous toy — the penis — and it's unlimited pleasureful potential!"

Kai, in the olive green drab of navy fatigues, a clean set of tank tops, and a jacket he seems to have no intention of buttoning, trudges into the ward alongside Hale. Look out! It's the CAG and the squadron's hall monitor. The former's got his hands buried in his pockets as per usual, and arrives just on the heels of Samantha's extolling the— wait what? His eyes flicker to the magazine briefly, and then to Roubani. "Ensign, stop corrupting my pilots." It's spoken with an utterly straight face.

Timon arrives from the Sickbay - Deck 2.
Timon has arrived.

Roubani replies in a drily monotone drawl, "My bad, sir." The magazine stays open on his crossed knee, hands resting down on the chair arms. "Some days I just can't contain myself."

Samantha shakes her head to Kai, smiling, if still a bit pale. Her arm's still in all that plaster and steel, not out of traction nearly yet, but at least off the heaviest of drugs even if the pain is clear around her eyes, especially after laughing for the last twenty minutes, "Gods, sir, you have to save me. The things he's telling my ears! Telling me about all the ways men use their marvelous toys and aggressive sex and… I'm about to swoon!"

Hale has arrived right in step behind the CAG. One hand looped around the back of his neck, as the other hangs loosely by his side. Its one of those times in which one of these things just doesn't belong here, seems to be playing in the Lieutenant's head. "Huh." where as Kai seems to jokingly chide Roubani-Hale himself, given what he knows. Just is baffled. "Oddest bit t' come in on."

No. Kai isn't going to say it; Roubani practically dug his own grave there. He just sort of looks at the snipe for a few beats in silence. Then, "Sounds like you don't need that article." It's muttered beneath his breath. "Case, I'm pretty sure you're meant to be resting."

"It's merely good strategy," Roubani answers Samantha mildly as he picks at a corner of the glossy page. "Make a woman swoon who's already lying down. Lessens the chances of a personal injury lawsuit." One superior officer becomes two as Hale's voice joins the fray, and Kai's sort-of rebuke makes him softly clear his throat again. He shuts the magazine and places it back on the stack, starting to stand up.

Samantha frowns a bit as the fun is seemingly done. Well, that's no fun! She looks to Roubani standing and the frown deepens a moment, "Poet…I don't think you have to go…I mean, unless you got a date to keep, or somethin'…" And then she turns her head, giving Hale a brief nod and looking up to the CAG. "I think this looks like resting to me, doesn't it? Ain't like I'm dancin' around the sick bay, though I am going a bit stir crazy. Poet here's just keepin' me sane."

Hale chuckles softly from where he is standing, before nodding once back over towards Samantha. There's a look fixed towards Roubani, but its shaken away as he simply comes around from the side of Karim. Eyes are more or less focused on the girly mags- one hand reaching for one of the glossy things laying there. "Bloody hell." It seems Hale's not clued in on the non corruption line yet "An Orgasm Whisperer? That like a bloody horse shrink for a vagin-" And then right there he shuts up. coughs and tosses the magazine back down.

Hey, nobody ever accused Kai of being fun. Just call him Captain Killjoy. "There is something I need to talk to you about, Lieutenant, when you're feeling up to a little chat." His expression doesn't quite give away what that might be, though there is a tiny hint of concern in his eyes. Then Hale speaks up, and his attention shifts toward the taller pilot for a second. Or, more specifically, the magazine in his hands. "Do women actually read that shit?" he wants to know, after a beat.

Roubani catches that fixed look from Hale. But shrinking violet he is not these days, and he just lifts a warning finger as his lips quirk. "Don't start." That hand then scratches through his hair. His dark eyes turn back to Samantha and Kai as he rests his palm against the back of his neck. Leave, he doesn't. Not yet. Perhaps there was something more to the visit than humour at his own expense.

Samantha lofts a brow as Captain Killjoy actually does bring up work. She frowns, looking towards the other men, fairly clearly not wishing to abandon their company but at the same moment she's got that business like glean to her eyes. Crazy or not, trampy or not, she almost always jumps up to the plate the moment work hits. "Sure, Captain… any time. I'd join you elsewhere if I could but I think the doctor's would complain… But I'm at your service, sir." And then she smirks, "And yes, we read that shit when we're stuck in beds and going stir crazy. But it's better when charming young ensigns read it TO us."

Arrayed in his dress blues, Timon Stathis has been waiting outside for quite some time — apparently, a few of the nurses have chosen this of all moments to take simultaneous smoke breaks. Now, though, the sound of raised voices from the Recovery Ward has drawn his attention. It's with halting steps that he stumps over to the room past half-drawn curtains and empty beds, cane clutched tightly in his right hand.

Kai's lips twitch slightly at the last thing Samantha says. But he manages to keep his expression staid, his eyes unsmiling. "It's not work-related, and it's not terribly pressing, Case. I'll come back after you've had some rest." And when there isn't a gaggle of pilots in attendance. He nods to those assembled by the woman's bedside, and turns as if to head out, when the tapping of Timon's cane attracts his notice. "Afternoon, Lieutenant." His gaze does a little down-up flicker over the raptor driver.

Hale grins back towards Roubani and shakes his head. Apparently this is all highly amusing to him. A glance back over for a second as if he was going to more into it, but then he is turning his head and looking back towards Timon who has entered. A nod given back over towards Stathis. Sniffling a little he turns away from Sam to cough gently in one hand. "Interestin' all the same. I always pictured women..readin' more sensible things." Maybe Hale's not hung out in the magazine section for some time.

Roubani sighs quietly at Samantha. "Some day I'll graduate to 'dashing'. Some day." He rubs the back of his neck, giving a small nod back to Kai. By Samantha's bed he lingers, even as he gives Hale a faint smile and then turns his eyes towards Timon.

Samantha smiles a touch warmer to Roubani, "Awe, you're almost at dashing, I promise. Give a little wink on occasion and walk around the berthings with no shirt on, then we'll talk dashing." She winks back to him before chuckling to the rest of the group, "Damn, Ivory! They let you out? How'd you do that? You gotta put in a good word for me. All I got to read is Roubani's magazines which, while interesting, Rabbit's right, they ain't all that sensible. … and just why DO you have those magazines, poet? There somethin' you wanna tell us?" She's trying not to give Kai a curious look but it's there… wondering, worried.

"Case." Timon smiles, giving the rest of the pilots a small nod in greeting. Now that Ivory's all up in their grills, the reason for his visit is becomes evident: in addition to his steel cane and his black wrist brace, he's the proud owner of two very bloodshot eyes. "I wouldn't shut up about the meaning of justice. Doctors kicked me out right quickly." The pilot's voice can best be described as, well, wet; he sounds as if he's perpetually on the verge of sneezing, though fortunately, he hasn't yet started. The Recovery Ward will remain snot-free from now. As to why he's here? "I heard 'orgasm.'" Which makes this as close to one as the bland pilot has ever gotten in his life, if the rumors are true.

Timon, at the moment, is the recipient of one of Marek's patented 'oh good, someone else I needed to have a word with' sorts of looks. Just replace 'word' with 'chewing out'. He tucks his hands into his fatigue pockets, and heads for the hatch. "Come and see me in the ready room in ten minutes, Stathis. Case, take it easy." And out he goes.

Hale snickers softly at Roubani's words "Some would already put you there, culley." loving and shipwide affection is given to the Ensign, even if his current attention is focused on the Raptor driver who has come a limping in, complete with the Cane. "Good t' see you moving mate." hale adds for Timon's benefit. Its true though he doesn't know how it will be taken-given his experiences with Ivory have been chess with Roubani, and what he's heard from Thorn. "Yeah." hale adds on. "They need Whisperers." a fant chuckle "I've seen a Horse whisperer once in me life..Don't rightly know if I care t' see an Orgasm whisperer in action."

"Absolutely not." That's to Samantha, as Roubani sniffs lightly. "The magazines aren't mine. Though they were culled from a variety of sources of the feminine persuasion and some involved being forced to serenade said sources while on my knees, so my reputation is ruined regardless. I hope you're happy." Harrumph. As to Timon? Well. He says nothing, but does have to physically purse his lips shut with his slender fingers so as not to smile. At least until Kai extends that sort of farewell to the man, which makes him lower his hand and rub his shoulder instead. Hm. Hale just gets a mild snort. "Golly gee, thank you."

"Golly gee? Did he actually just frakking say golly gee? Wow, Poet…You've gotta be the top of someone's fetish list -somewhere-… good old fashioned innocent boy willing to crawl on his knees for dirty women's magazines and give readings out loud!" She chuckles quietly again, but the energy is definitely wearing off with the pain that's creeping up her arm, a mix of having shifted in bed just a bit too much, the adrenaline and enjoyment of the last hour, and just her last dose of morpha wearing off. She swallows back that pain, though, and keeps smiling, propped up on her good arm as best she can be. "Rabbit… we should be lettin' YOU read these mags, maybe you'd get laid once in a blue moon, then." And finally, with Kai's leaving and those words to her and Timon, she frowns in concern…"Come see me soon as you can, sir… I'll be all curious now."

Brows furrow and eyebrows rise as Kai gives his order. "Wilco, Spider," is all Timon says, before he favors Rabbit with an encouraging smile. "Yeah. It's a start, though I'm going to be right about worthless when it comes to Pyramid." He's affable enough with his colleagues, or so it seems." As for the banter between Poet and Case: "You sing, Ensign?" It's delivered with a wry little smirk. "The things we learn."

Kai heads through the exit labeled <SB> Sickbay.
Kai has left.

"An here I thought you'd like a compliment." A shake of his head for a second, though Hale's response would come out as dry as the area around Marathon this time of year-were they anywhere close to Leonis. A look is given to Kai's wake before he is looking back over towards Case. A sniff given to the words. "because I don't broadcast what hen house I be goin' into doesn't mean th' fox ain't gettin' eggs." And like that Rabbit rolls his shoulder for a moment. "Oi You'll still be could if you ca rage like a theatric. Throw a chair or something Ivory. I need coaches as well as players."

Roubani chuckles under his breath at Hale. "That came out a little rougher than I intended, I'm sorry." He and compliments just don't mix, kids. He blinks once at Sam and shakes his head. "What have I gotten myself into…" It sounds light, though, at least for him. As Kai disappears, he settles back down to sit on the edge of the chair he'd vacated. Not completely comfortable but not ready to leave just yet. To Timon he smirks a little. "No, not in the least. I think they regretted it."

"Pyramid? Frak…I want in." Sam looks down at her right arm. Why was it her RIGHT arm? "…Maybe start workin' on my left handed throw. When's it starting?" She smiles a bit again as she sees Roubani actually settle back into the chair… or at least sit down, that half letting her relax that all her company isn't disappearing. "…frak, don't suppose any of you got cigarettes on ya?" She gives a long look around the sickbay. No one's on oxygen, it should be fine!

"Don't smoke," says Ivory. He's really as boring as he's reputed to be. Then: "You sure about that, Rabbit? Because my coaching will consist of orders to 'Put your ball in your hole more times than the other team puts their ball in their hole." Timon pauses, raising and then lowering his cane as he thinks. "Basket," he says rather tentatively, as if testing out the feel of the word in his mouth. "Goal?" Yeah, he's a veritable tactical genius. Roubani's comment elicits a small chuckle, though he doesn't yet respond.

"Soon as I collect up the interest sheet with all the names collected. We'll have us a big informal meeting. So coaches can take a look at their prospects. Draft teams, and that good sort." Hale replies, while watching Sam for a moment. As for a cigarette. Hale's sliding a hand down to pat his fatigues for a moment. "I don't have m' pack on me, sorry." A quick glance back towards Rabbit for a second, an amused smirk grows. "Goal." Rabbit adds, as if finding the right word was something of a hunt that he was wiling to let Timon linger along. "Its fine. I think you'll get the hang of it."

"I don't think you can do that in here," Roubani tells Samantha, rather than look for his own. Helpful or lazy, you decide. He crosses his legs and idly brushes something off his knee that he was probably just imagining. Eyes flicking back to Timon and Hale, the exchange pulls a small smile.

Samantha pouts, just a little bit, looking down to her arm and sighing…"How they expect me to be a good patient without a single cigarette is -beyond- me." She mutters, pushing one hand through her thinner blonde hair and tucking her good arm behind her head now. She watches Ivory and Rabbit, brows lofted curiously, a half smile returning to her mouth. "Sounds like it could be a fun time."

"You're a betting man, Rabbit?" Timon remembers the chess game quite well. "Here's a tip: don't put money on me getting my team a single win." 'My team'? That sounds like he's already gotten used to the notion in his head. "You'd have better luck with my mother's knitting circle. At least they could sew us some uniforms. And Case?" Timon stumps over to the pilot's side, his eyes taking in the extent of her injuries. "Far be it from me to lecture about healthy habits, but you should probably stay away from smoke until you're capable of standing." Another pro-tip. He's full of them, evidently.

"Depends on the bet." Obviously Hale was going to back Poet, as the Ensign was in his squad, well and as far as the tall pilot is considering-still in his squadron. Just temporarily displaced. "Oi, brother- you'll be fine. Just pick some ringers." a wink there to Ivory and he's looking towards Roubani and Case for a moment. "I'm sure you can work your arms out in here though Sam.."Yet Hale doesn't finish that sentence instead he is looking back towards Roubani "You figure out if you still want in mate?"

Roubani replies mildly, "Far be it from me not to allow Stathis some opportunity to recover his dignity after the last time we went head to head in a sport." Ha ha, sport. The Raptor pilot receives a quirked-lip smile. "As I've said, I would pity the team associated with me, but I will do my best. I can tie their shoes or something."

Samantha lofts a brow to Hale, "Eh. My fingers at least. Gotta get that privacy curtain over here." She winks. Yes, she went there. He was practically begging her to do so anyway! She tries not to fidget now, but the mix of wanting a cigarette and the pain covering her arm more and more… well, she's getting twitchy. She just takes another breath through her nose and then flickers a gaze between Timon and Roubani…"…Wow, I think it might be true love."

"Head over heels." Timon's voice is deadpan. "Anyway, Rabbit, I hereby dub my team the Platonic Solids, with a projected record of zero and however many games you want to set up, as certain as the stars still shine." He would say more, but his expression turns dour as he glances at the watch on his wrist. "Five minutes until Spider eats me for brunch. Looks like the docs will have to wait. Case — get better." And then he hobbles off, doing his best to move quickly. Ivory hates to be late.

Timon heads through the exit labeled <SB> Sickbay.
Timon has left.

"I think you two, given how your Chess match, err game went. Will prove to be good coaches-Y' got minds for strategy and math. It'll pay off." says the man who played as a defensive goon for years. Hale just grins- well good it seems it is settled that He's got two people he'll slate for coaching then. The pyramid scheme just got a bit easier, and since there is a court in one of the cargo bays.. Brilliance. A look is given back to Sam and Hale opens his mouth-maybe to ask or to say something along the lines of infer al, but he stops and purses his lips for a second. One nod given to Timon before he is looking back to Roubani "Oi mate, is there a time we can get t'gether for a chat. Had somethin' on me mind."

Roubani is now quickly look like he's regretting saying all that. Oh boy. He nods to Hale at that last though. "Of course. After dinnertime, perhaps? I'm on second shift tomorrow, so I'll have a few hours tonight before I need to turn in."

Samantha gives Timon a brief wave, "Good luck…" And then there were three. She's calmed down, sufficently, as to not be quite a crazy annoying bitch as before. She lofts a brow towards Hale and Roubani at the chatting comments…"If you two need some alone time go ahead, don't let me keep ya. Though I'm damn curious about all this whispering in corners that is going on. Feel like I'm missing the gossip mill stuck in here." She half chuckles.

Hale nods to Roubani "Excellent. I got CAP coming up here in a little, so I will catch you after." Hale promises, or so the look might say. A glance back to Sam and he offers his usual big, goofy grin "Get better, Case." A tip of knuckles to his forehead, before Hale himself, is doing the ol' two-legged shuffle on past the curtain and out the door.

And scene continues…part II coming

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