Like A Virgin
Like A Virgin
Summary: Barnabas and Batista totally met before the Kharon. That's a good thing, right?
Date: PHD136
Related Logs: A Cubit Short - SAR

Mess Hall

Half of the Mess has been converted to a living space for the Civvies aboard from Solon II and now the Elpis, roughly 50 in all, give or take a few casualties up in Sick Bay. Cots have been brought in Aft. The mess this time of day is fairly empty, as it's late for the crew.

At one of the tables nearest the civvie side, a blonde in a flight suit sits with some food. She picks at the contents of the tray with a fork, leaned over it with her hair in her face. Closer inspection will reveal a tiny town built from foodstuff. Batista plays with her food.

Barney looks… More awake now. A cold shower, a shave and a comb have all been very useful in getting him looking somewhat more human after his 40+ hours of constant on/off shifts and time in the gym. The guy didn't sleep too well after the Elpis, what can we say. He's definitely looking more concious as he heads on in to the mess and beelines for the serving counter.

There's a long moment of silence from the blonde in her little flightsuit. She lifts her fork, swaps it around in her hand into a stabby implement, and stabs the crap out of the meatlike product on her tray with a thunk. HAHA. And then she drinks her water, fork standing at attention like a good little soldier.

Barney's given a tray of… well. The less said about what's handed over would probably be foe the best. He's sure it's very healthy and filled with nutrients, but it looks like… No. Thinking about it too hard would make most folks start to gag. Looking not too pleased about what he has to eat, Barney proceeds to look for a table. RIGHT as Batista unleashes the stabby rage. Oh god. He approaches.

Of course. It's natural that the marine would head right for the woman who just introduced her food to the business end of a fork. If she can't pull it out of the food, that means she can't use it on him. Nevermind, suddenly his plan does seem sort of smart. She, however, fails to note her fellow Virgonian? Virgie? Virg? approaching. Batista tips back her head to finish off her water, then taps her cup on the rim with her fingernails.

That probably makes the thumping of Barney's tray on to the table that more startling. I mean, he's right across from her and everything, sliding in to sit before she's any chance to react. The first thing he says probably doesn't help calm, either. "You're a Virgin too, right?"

"What the frak kind of question is that you — " Cece looks up from her tray, green eyes already narrowing a little as the boots come to a stop, and then the marine takes a seat right across from her. "Oh." Oh, it's you, that says. She obviously remembers him from the Cargo Bay. Well, why not? He only has half a face. She hunches down a little into her suit. "Hi."

"I'm used to hearing the jokes by now." Barney doesn't divulge any more info until he's swallowing a mouthful of the 'food.' Ka-gulp. Beam. …Be blinks, once again at the look on her face. "I mean about being from Virgon. You're from there, right?" His fingers start to rap idly against the top of the steel table, drumming a soft little staccato beat while his other hand shovels more food into his maw.

The blonde nods, and reaches up to tuck unruly blonde locks behind her ear. Her hair isn't so much a style as 'I just got out of bed, deal with it'. "How come your food is a different color from my food?" She eyes his tray with interest, then nods. "Yeah, I'm from Red Sands." Which is a hop away from, gosh, a certain military base. "You?"

"They don't like me as much as they do you." Barney states, poking a particularly squishy part of his food down. It squeaks and squelches. Yes, his food just protested. "Plus we don't complain as much." Now he's the one to play with his food, trying to keep his eyes from meeting hers. What? He can tell she judges him by his jaw, and it's a little offputting to watch. "Bellerophon Plains. Had some farmland out by the peaks." That's not a hop away at all. Kind of puts into perspective how far he went to join the military.

Batista reaches for her fork, but finds it woefully stuck in the meaty product thing. She jiggles it a few times and knocks down half of her 'veggie' fortress in the process. "Shit." She gives it a harder jiggle. Zero joy. One can almost see it coming before it happens. She shakes the fork hard, and the meat flies off and squelches into an unholy physical union with the protesting lump on Barny's tray. Sploorghsh. That's the sound it makes. Course something else from the tray probably leaps away in fear right into his lap. "Er." She tips back a little in her seat, and reaches up to wipe a little droplet of water from it. "… That's kinda a trek." Ignore the food in your lap, kthx. "I think I flew over that once."

Barney looks down. His food looks back up at him from his lap. Barney reaches for a napkin, His food tries to escape. Barney ensnares his food in a napkin. Food is doomed, and the napkin-blob is dumped at one side of his tray. He had three bites of his food before this, and now it's going to be even more disgusting than before. Barney slides his tray away. "I think I've had enough of that. Doesn't mix with my palate." He still doesn't meet Bat's eye.

Bat does happen to notice this evasion of eye contact thing, mostly because she's finally decided to meet his. He's sitting right across from her, and it would be extremely rude not to. After about the third time she looks up and finds him not looking at her, her eyes sort of stray, inevitably, to his jaw, to his face. The ruined side. "You want mine? It's not really… y'know. I mean, I'll just have this jello stuff." She gets a little lost staring at it. His scars, not the jello.

"I'm good, thanks. Said you name was Coco, right?" Behold the non-eye-contact. He's completely distracted by cleaning up his fork with a second napkin, even though it was pretty much clean with the first wipe. He's on the ninth, now. He even takes the time to raise the fork to the left side of his head, as if trying to measure the shine on it. Yup, that means he has to turn the scars away from her. The second time he's done it in as many meetings.

"Yeah, CoCo Batista." Her tone is a little distracted. When he turns his head, she clears her throat lightly and adds, "But pretty much everybody calls me CeCe." She reaches up to brush a finger over her nose, and then glances down at her jello. She takes a bite, scooping it up with a spoon. "Sorry, your name was?" He might have said, or he might not. She's been traumatized these last few days. She reaches over and scratches a fingertip over the sleeve of her flightsuit, left hand on right arm. There's a dark stain of blood down it still, from yesterday, from one of the people in the life pod.

"Barnabas Volker. It's usually just 'Barney' but I prefer 'Volker' or 'Sarge.'" Barney finally starts trying to make eye contact when she's paying attention to her flight suit. Gods bless that man's timing. 'Sarge' rests his elbows on the table, leaning his head into his hand and covering up as much of the broken tissue on his face that he can. See? Sweet. "Did you get checked up down in medical?" Up in medical… aside in medical. It's a little hard to remember the layout of this ship.

"No." Bat shakes her head and reaches up to tug a few strands of blonde hair over the small scalp laceration. It has an honest to god kids bandaid on it. There's little red cherries on the white plastic strip and everything. "I'm ok. It's just a little thing. I mean, but… I could use a laundry and a shower." That last part is said hesitantly. Her eyes stay on her hand and her sleeve, then she glances up. Her eyes stray to his finally, while he's looking at her and everything. "I'm still kinda freaked out." She confesses softly, her hands on the edge of the table. Her fingertips press right into the edge.

"Yeeaaah." It's long, and it's a very drawn-out word from Barney as he leans back, far enough that only his fingertips can touch the table with outstretched arms. "I think if we'd had a little more time and a duty roster shift, they wouldn't have picked mine to be the first face all-a you people got to see when you stepped out of those ships." He leans forward again, thus making his position once again rather neutral, back straight and all. "Sorry about that."

"… Why?" Bless her. Bat stares at Barney for a moment as if trying to figure out why he's bringing up duty logs and such when all he did was ask for weapons. You'd think it would be glaringly obvious. And it would, if she were really so shifty around him yesterday because of his face. But she wasn't, so much.

"You didn't exactly have the best reaction to this thing." Barney taps his cheek with an index finger, making a little hollow noise inside of his mouth. His smile is a little weak, but you know how it is. Military, have to keep a stoic face going. With a little pause on the tapping, he stretches his arms out to one side, both going to the left, and interlocks the fingers to wake them up via multiple cracking noises. "But then again, not many folks do." Well she did sob! …It may not have been about his face, but he doesn't know that.

Her eyes drop, and Bat stares at her jello for a minute. The bowl is still mostly full. She prods at a cube with a fingertip. The jello jiggles. Jiggly. "Yeah, I had a hard day, and I watched two people I sort of knew die gurgling on their own blood and stuff, so it wasn't… really…" The best time for meeting new people who had been through obviously horrific and painful experiences. "A good day for me." She shoves her thumb into her mouth, and gnaws on her fingernail. Her eyes sweep up to him again. When she sits still, it's easy to note that her eyes are slightly crooked, smile asymmetrical. She doesn't sit still all that often.

Barney just nods, covering up his cheek with that hand again. Hey, he gets to rest his head, it helps. Honest. "Doesn't sound like much fun, no." The Sergeant gives a little look to some of the occupied cots, pursing his lips a little at the sight before "You're all a little safer now, though, so you did good holdin' out." He doesn't say safe. He can't say safe. It's then, and only then, that he actually fixes on her eyes again. And then says what he's been waiting to say since he learned her name. No, the hand doesn't come from his cheek, instead, that left-side smirk of his seems honest, for once. "Coco 'CeCe' Cruz Batista…" Well that's a little unnerving. She never gave him her middle name. "The Pride of Whitefall."

"It wasn't so hard to hold out. In a little pod with little maneuverability with a frakkin' cylon raided pinning us… our electrical was pretty much fried. Life support was failing when that SAR pulled us out." CeCe drops a little military lingo there, then clears her throat again softly. Look, she's doing her best to ignore the fact that he just said her full name and mentioned Whitefall, and so she spoons up another bite of jello, and her other hand tightens, slowly, on the edge of the table. The bite hovers about halfway to her mouth by the time her fingers are white knuckled on the edge of the table. Going… to… ignore it.

"They have good timing like that." Barney focuses on the SAR topic for at least a whole twenty more seconds before his grin is creeping back, knuckles wrapping on the table in such a way that his tray actually starts to vibrate it's way towards the edge. "You know…" He's leaning right into his hand now, the parts of his cheek around his fingers whiter than ever. "You one elbowed me in the throat while dancing in the bar." He's staring a little, just a little. "You looked so different back then." Pause. The Sergeant actually laughs. It's a little choked one, but it's a laugh. "Saying that, so did I." So maybe he spent most of his bunk time remembering Whitefall, don't be judging, now.

Have you ever choked on a piece of jello? It's squishy and jiggly and slimy going down, so imagine it going down the wrong way. Hack hack, gasp. Glarg. And it's lime flavored. Little flecks of coughed up jello spray across her tray, her arm, and maybe one of two make it all the way over to stick to one of the marine's hands. Her left pops off the edge of the table as her fingers clench the edge so hard they slip. "What the shit. I have not been on that base in way too many years for you to remember something like that." She points at him, one fingered, stiff-armed. "Why do you remember that." It is a demand. Because if he really does remember that, then it means he really might remember That of Which We Do Not Speak<tm>.

Flecks of jello catch his arm, slipping down the skin and pooling up on the table. It's kinda gross. She could have sneezed on him and it'd look remarkably similar. Poor Barney. His hand that was protecting his cheek from ridicule moves to run over his forehead, thumb and forefinger dropping down to brush over his eyelids. The marine smiles. "I've not exactly had much to think about. I spent a lot of time in the sickbay, lately. One of the things it reminded me of was spraining the frak out of my ankle back at whitefall when we were going over a wall." Oh, you're damn right he remembers. "Imagine my suprise when one of the most famous people ever to train at that place turns up on my doorstep." His smile fades. Hell, it becomes weaker right infront of her eyes. Quietly, Barney adds "Glad you made it." Sweet, maybe, but more to the point, a hell of a lot of people there… didn't.

She hunches down a little more in her flight suit as he gets to the famous part. She makes a little mmmrr growl of unhappiness in the back of her throat. It's barely audible. She reaches up to swipe the non jello flecked sleeve over her face to brush off some remnants, then Bat clears her throat again. Maybe she's just dislodging some leftover lime dessert. "Yeah, thanks. But it just figures, you know." She huffs. "Some dude ends up on like the one podunk carrier to survive the warday and that same guy ends up being from Whitefall. And remembers me. And…" And. "You weren't… training on the field that day. Were you?" Please say no. Please say no. Please say —

"Yup." Barney slowly nods, not grinning. While it may be famous, yes… grinning is not the correct response to what happened. Maybe it is for other people, but not if you were down on the field that day. His hand drags down to his throat, rubbing eitherside of his adam's apple with the same digits used to wipe his eyes. He, too, coughs. "And for now, unless someone manages to drag up the records from the ass end of society… I think your secret is safe."

Bat's expression is something to marvel at. It's unclear if she'd rather die of embarrassment blushing, scream, or cry. Her eyes actually mist of a little until he says the best little phrase ever to be invented 'your secret is safe'. "…" She sits there staring at him, mouth slightly open, cheeks flaming pink. "I mean, do you promise? Do you swear?" It might seem a little silly that someone would still care, after the horrors witnessed in the months since the Colonies were bombed. A little flaming crash landing doesn't seem so horrific. Does it?

Barney's hand actually reaches out, almost but not quite reaching hers. "I swear. What did you end up doing before the bombs dropped? Stewarding on flights?" His scowls his face in, stupid notion. "Nah, you loved flying. Maybe not the greatest aptitude for it, but all of you viper jocks entered that bar with enough of a buzz going to electrocute a horse or twelve." He hmms, giving a proper look at her flight suit for the first time. "'Victory Shuttle'…" Blink. Really? "You kept flying." Look! A smile! …Shut up, this is like meeting an old school friend that you never really knew at a shopping centre or something, except most everyone else in the galaxy is dead so it cuts the small talk. "You could try all over again."

It's kind of wierding her out, the smiling thing. The whole understanding thing. But wait, no. Maybe that's not it. Her eyes are a little far off as she tries to place the bar. It's been a long time, and a lot of miles between her and Whitefall. "… Wh—yeah. It took me years to talk them into letting me stick. I started hauling cargo, then moved to Caprica City… I mean this job you get tips. And snobby bitches who complain about the shuttle ride and breaking atmo, but if you don't spill the champagne, they usually tip." She falls silent, then looks over. "What do you mean, I can try again?"

"You've got the flying experience. We've got vipers." Barney's planting the seed of creating another pilot? A marine… making a pilot. Holyshit the universe is backwards. His hands rest flat on the table, the rest of his body curving enough for him to rest his chin atop his knuckles. And he just looks. Staring up at the old-non-friend.

"You think I should get back into a viper." The tone is … flat. No, not quite flat. It's a little incredulous. A smidge. "I have a three foot burn scar up my — " Yeah, so she thinks better of saying that out loud in the Mess Hall. Batista leans in a little. "Why did I elbow you in the throat?"

"I remember, you stripped off the flight suit in the middle of-" It's Barney's turn to both speak quietly and cut himself short at the same time. He still looks up at her, though, fingers drumming the table again. "No idea. I think you'd had a little to drink. There was spinning."

Her eyes narrow slightly as Barney starts to invoke the 'ass on fire dance' she has since become famous for. Batista straightens slowly, but then her posture relaxes, by degrees, as he cuts himself off. "… What was I wearing?" Everyone knows women date things by outfits.

Barney tries to keep his face straight, but his lips curve inwards. It's a little odd looking, considering his face, but the intent is there. "Something…" Little squeak. Oh god this memory will never leave him. Or the memories of the squad he had back then. "Probablynotstatedexplicitlyintheflightregs." He rushes all of it out in one fell breath, eyebrows lifting a little afterwards.

Batista squeaks a sound that might have been trying to be a yell. She points at him again. Her arm vibrates a little. "NOT THEN!" It's loud and sharp, and several heads turn their way. She leans in, jostling the table some. "Not then. In the bar."

"I know, I just wanted to remember that." Barney hides his face for a couple of seconds, shoulders bouncing as he laughs into his forearm. When his head comes back up, there are tears at the corner of his eyes. Ohgods. "In the bar? Erm… Can't remember." He clicks his fingers, trying to recall. "Black dress… it was odd, like… a little see-through over the knees, but there was like a second layer thighs-up. And a white top. Sleeveless." How can he recall that? Don't ask, he doesn't have a damn clue.

"… You remember what I was wearing, and I elbowed you in the throat." Batista takes this new information for what it is. She thinks on it, thinks on it a little more, turns it around in her mind, considers it, and then she comes to a conclusion. "Were you stalking me, laughing boy?" She does her level best not to replay the morning of the crash in her mind. With the flames and the dancing and the stripping and the tattoo and the — oh gods. Don't think of it.

"I remember a lot about whitefall now that it's gone." Barney manages to say that without a mis-step or a falter in his voice. His head sinks a little lower, however, so that just his nose upwards is visible over his fore-arm. "And thinkin' of you all runnin' around sure beats the drill sergeant trying to club me to death with a shoe when he found out I missed a shot on purpose."

"Why the shit would you miss a shot on purpose?" Bat is much more comfortable with the line of conversation Barny just opened up, mainly because it's not about her or her see-thru clothing. Or her days at the Place of Shame.

Barney shrugs a little, finally lifting his head from his arms and arching his back a little, stretching. "Needed one more shot for a marksman certification, which would have opened up a whole new path for me that I didn't want to get shoved in to."

"Oh." The sound is both a little surprised, and a little something else. Her fingers link then unlink. She reaches over to idly twist the little thumb ring she wears, silver reflecting a little light. Her eyes drop to her hands. "I guess, but why would you throw away something if you're actually really good at it?" She hunches down a little again. For Batista, well, let's just say she's not that great at bluffing in Triad.

"Easy. I didn't want to spend my life crawling around in the mud and watching over folks." Obviously merely being a desginated marksman would not have been an option had be passed the cert. Oh Barney. He takes a second to wipe away a few remaining blobs of water from his previous laughing-tears moment. "I just wanted to be a rifleman, smack bang in the middle of it all with my squad. That and it was just one of those things that could have seperated me mentally from most of 'em." His accent slips more often the more he thinks.

There's a moment of silence from Bat, then she reaches up to shove her thumb into her mouth again. Back to gnawing! She stares at Barney over her hand, just watching him with slightly wide green eyes. When she's thinking, she does that. "So it was like an anti-prissy thing?" She leans in a little. "You know, I barely made it through boot." Her hand drops, so it might be a little easier to understand her. "I mean, I don't know how… you made it this long in service." Her eyes stray to the scarring again.

He rolls his shoulder again. The Sergeant likes his shrugging. "I nearly didn't. Make it this long, I mean." He flicks his cheek, as if she didn't know what he was already talking about. There's the added extra of a moment to wipe away what jello remained on his arm unnoticed until this time. "People can't get rid of me that easily, apparently."

"Yeah," her eyes stay on the cheek as he flicks it. She just stares at it again, though at least she's not crying this time. Small improvement. "…" She opens her mouth to say something, then doesn't say it. Her mouth closes. "Sorry about the jello." That probably wasn't what she was going to say.

"And you're sorry about my face, even though you have no idea how it happened and you can't even remember me anyway?" Barney takes a guess. It's a pretty simple thing to guess, but he still might be wrong. At least he's smiling when he says it. "It's alright."

Bat things about it for a long moment, then asks, and it's clearly quite hard for her to actually lean forward and ask this, "Did we grope in the alley once after like nine margaritas?"

Barney slowly shakes his head. Sadly? Maybe. But it's mostly just slowly. "Sorry. Wasn't me." It's hard to tell if he sounds dissapointed or about to laugh about the question and the answer. Hell, even he doesn't know which.

"Oh kay." She actually looks relieved, the tension in her forehead eases a little. Whew. "Good." Not having groped in an alley isn't usually that good. There must be some sort of story there. "I mostly blocked out the experience there. I mean, my family had to move afterward. Mom started drinking and everything."

"Hey, I was pretty hot back then, pfft." Hey, Barney probably was pretty, once. He's not when he's fake-pouting through a busted mouth, but he might have been adorable a long time ago. Who knows. Well, he does. Most of his time near a mirror is spent remembering how he used to look.

"I guess you woulda told me if I barfed on your shoes when you asked me to go back to your room." Bat shrugs, finally spilling the reason it's 'good' he wasn't the one from the alley. "Did you know mango margaritas make your puke completely orange. I freaked out a little bit until I remembered I took the barkeep up on his weekend special. 9 Margaritas for 20 cubits seems like a good idea at the start of the night." She shakes her head, and then thinks on what he said for a moment. That is to say she looks down at her hands on the table, then suddenly looks up with, "So you got a big scar. Whatever. You're still — " She closes her mouth, and reaches for his water. "Going to drink this? No? Ok." Mine.

"Damn, he got you with those?" Barney actually starts snickering. "I lost a couple of wet-behind-the-ears types to that deal. You don't know disgusting until you've had to mop up orange puke from the barracks floor because the brand new recruits were idiots." He pauses a little. "Hell, it was probably one of those two you ended up groping." Or a pilot. Which might be worse. "What were you gonna say? Hot? Cute? Adorable? No you weren't and no I ain't." It's been a long time since he's been able to talk to a civilian without someone of a higher rank watching over him for screw ups. "You couldn't look directly at it for a long part of this conversation, and I'm used to it." He waves the water off, looking aside to the hatch as he does so. "Take it."

"All I remember is the guy was like all tongue and my tonsils couldn't take it. Next thing you know, luge on the combat boots." Bat kicks back the water, chugging it. Thirstyyyy. "What? So it takes some getting used to. Whatever. You were totally gonna make fun of me for my fire dance, and — " She glares. "Stop picturing it in your head." She sets the water cup down. "You don't know what I was gonna say, so don't pretend you do. Hold that thought." She gets up, takes his cup and hers, and shuffles down the way to the dispenser to hook up two new cups of water. She's gone long enough for him to consider what she just said, which isn't a lot, and think up all the reasons it's just idle lies. She kind of bounces a little when she walks. The flight suit is fairly formless. She does look a lot different now than she did back at Whitefall. The hair and the clothes, definitely. Mostly the hair. Eventually she returns with the water, and slides back into the seat across from the two trays.

Barney was watching her butt the whole way. Not that there was much to see, but, y'know. Memories. He doesn't look much different from the Whitefall days at all. It's just the scar is so… face-changing, it'd be a bitch to recognise him without being outright told who he was and shown an old photos. Maybe Volker has one. Who knows. When she returns, he just smiles. He had plenty of time to think the words through in his head. "What were you going to say, then?"

Bat drains one of the cups before she even speaks to him, head tipped back, chugging the water like she's been wandering the desert for like three days. She aaahs obnoxiously when she's finished, and grins that crooked grin of hers. "Not bad for a marine." She points to the other water cup, offering or asking if she can have it maybe. Without words.

Barney rolls his eyes. Look. at. them. go. He waves the second cup off, too. Apparently she needs it more than he does. "No wonder you had to pee so bad when you got off that Raptor." His grin is just as crooked. Aww, they have something in common!

"Kiss my butt, you." Bat replies with a wrinkle of her nose. She reaches for the cup of water, and salutes him with it. "Hydrating is important. It makes for good skin." Her eyes flick to his scar. Great, it's practically Pavlovian. He keeps bringing it up, she keeps looking. "And attention span and stuff."

"Kiss your… You mean the one we all saw when-" Oh Barney, you're back to being an asshole. How we love you for it. "But seriously though, was that seriously regulation underwear?" You know exactly what his face is like when he says both those things. He even leans forward to whisper the second part right in her ear. At least he approaches the right side of her head, so she doesn't get that scar all close-up.

"It was laundry day." Bat hisses back, indignant and peeved, but unwilling to commit an act of physical violence on a marine in the Mess Hall of a military vessel. No wait, he mentioned the granny panties from the incident. That means she gets to, SLAP. So she does. But it's not very hard. She can probably do better. "Shush about that. You promised." Not any anyone can hear, so technically he kept that promise. Technically. So far. "The ruffles weren't my idea. It was a gag joke that went too far and it was either that or commando, so don't you judge me. I didn't know I was gonna crash and burn my ass."

"Neither did the marines on that field. We spent about fourty seconds watching because we didn't know if it was part of the exercise or what." Barney speaks up after his head recoils a little from the slap. He even shakes it from side to side, making that little 'flflfpflpflfpfl' noise with half a mouth as he does so. "So you grew out of the granny panties, huh?"

"What the fr — " She all but kicks her chair back as she stands. Ziiip. The zipper is yanked down all the way, and she shrugs out of her flight suit. Oh, shit. "Look." She shoves the zipper wide over one hip, jerking the fabric crooked, and flashes the strappy little side of a pair of the tiniest panties on the ship. It's hard to say for sure from just the hip, but it looks like it just might be a thong. The color is dark and swirled sky blue. "You say granny panties again, I will come over this table and feed you your teeth." It's a completely empty threat, and everyone knows it.

"You've been on this boat for one day and you're showing marines your thong." Barney takes this all rather in stride, although he did lean back quite a lot when she kicked out of the chair. Well, y'know, punches follow that, normally. When she's done showing off, the Sergeant stands from his chair, giving the old not-friend a coy half-smile. Yes, he can do coy, shutup. "And here I was scared you'd changed since Whitefall. Good to see you again, Miss Batista." It's as good a cue as any to leave, right?

Bat only gives him a look. A glimpse. A non-granny gander. "Proving a point, son." She sniffs a little, and adjusts her clothing properly before half the Mess notices what's going on over there. Did you say coy? "I'm not easy, Volker. I just can't stand up to margaritas," she mutters, then tugs the zipper of her suit up about one third of the way. Her tshirt slogan is still revealed. She re-takes her seat, then stands up almost immediately. "I gotta pee." Well, no wonder.

"No shit." Barney waves over his shoulder as he dissapears. With the trays. Once again, Batista manages to brighten up his day to no end. …Civilians are far too much fun. This could get addictive.

"But, I have to pee." And he's just leaving her here. Bat scowls, which on her really equals scrunched up face ineffectual cuteness. Do not tell her. Her eyes scan the Mess for the requisite posted MPs. One of them has to take her to the Head. It's like a rule. She remembers some of her training. MPs have rules. Plus someone told her last night when she was shuffled in here.

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