Summary: It's just another night in Red Berthings… until the nuggets show up. Thorn and Eddie have a little fun with Gresham and Estrella… but Thea gets the last laugh. Or does she?
Date: PHD156
Related Logs: None

RED BERTHINGS - scene already in progress

"Mmmhmm. Just fine," Roubani reports, as to the simulators. Or the macaroni. Maybe both. He picks up a second mug, setting it down by the heater. He shoots Matto a raised-brow look of fleeting sympathy. "Feeling ill?" The sound of a shower going and teeth being scrubbed doesn't distract him any. The creature will emerge soon enough.

"Yeah, a little," Kisseus draws his lips to one side. "It'll be alright after some tea," he decides. "Stomach's just threatening to contact Organ Protective Services or something," he chuckles softly. He unbends his leg at the hip, gently shoving against the table with his knee, rocking back a little bit.

The scrubbing of toothbrush on teeth continues, followed by a -splat-, and then more scrubbing. At least the CAG doesn't sing. And it's almost certainly the CAG, if the glimpse of his fatigues and tshirt clad self, when he bends over the sink, is any indication.

"Shame we don't have peppermint," Roubani muses as he purses his lips, going through their tiny stash of teabags. "Would you like a plain red? Or…let's see. There's chamomile. Something that claims to be apple. And…" He picks up a little package, squinting slightly at the back. "…'sleepytime vanilla'." Which sounds like it amuses him.

"It wasn't that bad, Kissy," comes a dry voice from the hatch. It's followed by Thorn, who enters the Viper berthings with a thin smile on his face. "As far as mess food goes, wasn't bad at all, actually." This coming from the guy who finished half his plate and started smoking immediately thereafter, mind. Komnenos crosses the threshold, taking a peek into one of the empty bunks(guess whose) before pulling up a seat at the table. He looks around, just in time to catch Roubani going through his tea stash. That got his attention, all right. "I'll give you a pack of smokes if you have any strong blends in there," Thorn says with a sigh.

"Bleh," Kissy screws up his face at the notion of a vanilla tea. "Anything but that last one will be more than fine," he answers, then, neck twisting around to look from urn station to hatch. "Don't tell me, tell my stomach. It definitely didn't taste as bad as some of the stuff they've given us," he allows. "You doing alright, Toes?" he asks, brows drawing together in a look of concern.

A few pilots are lounging about, apparently shooting the shit in berthings tonight. Business as usual. Someone's brushing their teeth in the adjoining head— well, was brushing their teeth. After rinsing the frothy toothpaste away, Kai ambles on out, scrubbing his towel through his hair as he heads into the berthings proper. And yes, he is clothed. "Evening, boys," he greets from somewhere under the thing.

It's the berthings' messhall-supplied teabags that Roubani's going through. None of which seem to impress a true tea drinker. He glances over as Komnenos appears. "Ah, the ante's gone up," he says, gravely. "Well, let's see. Oh!" He puts the tea basket back down, brushing his hands over his hips as he heads for his bunk instead. "I've got something better. Three cups, then…" And his path heads him straight by Kai, which prompts a: "Four cups?" A questioning look to the CAG.

"Maybe that's their plan," Thorn comments wryly. "Stretch th' supplies by cooking up shit nobody wants seconds of." There's a flick of the eyes over to Matto. "I'm fine," he says tersely, though the lines in his forehead might tell a different story. He turns his head at the sound of the new voice. "Spider," he greets the CAG, nodding to the older man.

Matto isn't going to press. Not here, at the very least, or now. Still, his worried hgaze doesn't quite relent immediately, lingering a moment as if to indicate that he's not entirely convinced. "Okay," is all he says, though, looking back toward Nadiv and his bunk as he goes hunting for teas.

While not an avid tea afficionado in any sense of the word, the Captain looks over when Roubani addresses him obliquely, and grunts something that sounds like "sure". Never turn down the hospitality of a countryman, it looks like. Even if you'd prefer the esophageal burn of coffee. He continues on toward his locker, dark curls given a final pass with his towel before it's ditched inside, along with his toothbrush and paste. He stays out of the conversation, for the time being.

Roubani may notice the lines on Komnenos' forehead. He may not. There's no spotlight called to the man's appearance, anyway, as he grabs a small tin off his bunk shelf and heads back to the hot water. Four cups gathered, set down on the table, and each given a very small teabag from the tin, which starts to colour the water reddish as soon as it touches. "There. This should help for a little while." A murmured statement to Matto, perhaps, or aimed more at Komnenos. Impossible to tell; his eyes are on his hands as he disperses the mugs.

Estrella half-stumbles into the room, two bags slung over her shoulder haphazardly, and about to slide off. "Hello?" she calls, peeking in to glance around with wide, confused eyes. "I think…I think I'm lost," she admits with a sheepish smile. "I haven't really been around here on my own so far, I was always just following a marine." She laughs and shrugs her shoulders. "I was told I'm supposed to grab a bunk?" she says, more a question than a statement. "Would…would you mind giving me direction?"

Kai pulls down what looks like, and probably is, a viper training manual from the top shelf of his locker. It jostles a few other things in there loose, most notably a photograph that's quickly snatched up and replaced. The picture is of a woman. Older. Dark hair. The door's shut, and he turns just in time to catch sight of the young woman who's stumbled into the viper pit. He rakes his eyes over her briefly, then answers somewhat gruffly, "Depends where you're looking to go. What've they got you slated for?"

Matto slips his knee under the edge of the table again, tipping forward to sit upright as the tea's delivered, retuning Nadiv a grateful look and a low murmur of thanks as he takes the handle and turns the mug a little, leaning down to sniff experimentally. Then, head lifting like a dog's which has heard a whistle, he looks to Estrella, then to Nadiv and Marek. There we go, Marek's handling things.

There's a note of murmured thanks to Roubani as Komnenos accepts his cup. He doesn't drink immediately, though, allowing the beverage to cool before he even makes the attempt. Well, there's that, and the sound of another new voice, this one coming from the hatch. Thorn looks over, eyeing the unfamiliar woman curiously. He doesn't answer her question, though, leaving someone who actually lives here to deal with it… thus, enter the CAG.

Roubani of course is quiet while Kai handles the newcomer. Settling in a random seat at the table, he hooks a foot onto the low rung of the chair, glancing down as it tips back and forth a little thanks to a missing foot. Figures.

"I'm flying Vipers," Estrella says hesitantly, with a small smile and a nervous hand ran through her hair. "At least, I'm going to be. That's what they signed me up for, but I'm not done the training yet." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking around the room with curiousity. "I'm supposed to find the right berthing and introduce myself, but there's just so many rooms here. I think I've gotten turned around." Taking a small step into the room, she glances around at the other men who haven't said anything yet, just watching her. "My father…he said the CAG is the one you always go to for everything."

Matto lets the newbiw and the CAG talk, just looking briefly at Marek to see whether he's going to pull the same sort of game he played with the other newbie last time he was around. Not that he disapproved, particularly. His eyes's drawn by the sudden shifting Nadiv's exhibiting, and he wrinkles up his nose with a little smile. Luck of the chair lottery.

"Vipers? I think y' want t' look across the hall," Thorn chimes in mildly, his voice a perfect deadpan. "No Vipers here." Yes, Thorn really does have quite a good triad face. Out comes the pack of smokes, and one is lit as Thorn finally takes a drink of his tea.

Pilots enjoy their ammenities, one of which happens to be their own private head. Somewhere back there, a shower turns off and there's a momentary lapse for whoever is inside to towel off and put on clothing. Or, at least /some/ clothing. Into the main berthing, Eddie pads out, clothed in nothing but a pair of shorts and a sport's bra. It's a rather skimpy outfit for Mooner, the reason being the multitude of fine scars that cover her arms, thighs and stomach. Of course now she's got some new ones on her abdomen from stitches that have just been removed. Without any preamble, the young pilot has a foot in the seat of a chair and then another on the table as she gets up on it, doing her best air guitar impression. "Tommy used to work on the docks, Union's been on strike, he's down on his luck, it's toooooooough. So toooooough!" Oblivious, of course, to the general mood of the room.

Roubani pulls his tea out of the way as Eddie goes climbing half on the table. Don't you DARE spill the tea, woman. Crossing his legs and setting the mug on his knee, he glances up, getting a better view of the underside of Eddie's body than he probably wanted. He murmurs out of the corner of his mouth to Matto, "She isn't about to crowdsurf, is she?"

Kai just watches Estrella quietly, with an odd look on his face while she speaks. It's the sort of look one might get, when watching a squirrel dart out into the middle of a busy road. Trepidation? Whatever it is, it's sublimated back into inscrutability. "Grab a bunk," he mutters finally, nodding in the general direction of one of the berthing's few free ones. Nope, no games. "Ignore Thorn, he's just eager to make a nugget's life hell, since he missed out on the last one." He drops into a chair at the table, reaches for his tea— and Eddie climbs on up to give them all a show. "I'm not tucking cubits into your garters, Morales." He reaches around a leg, and snags his teacup finally, before she steps in it.

Rather than be flustered, Estrella looks around at everyone and laughs. "Wow," she gigglesnorts, "They still call them nuggets, huh?" She arches an eyebrow at Thorn with a look of ah ha! and steps fully into the room. She eyes Eddie in her half dressed state for a second, and then avoids looking at her. "I'm Estrella Flores," she offers. "It's nice to finally meet all of you," she offers, looking around for a free bunk. "And to have a real bed. The messhall and the cargo bay were generous, but I missed sleeping on a mattress."

Matto likewise draws his mug out of the way, leaning back in his chair and resting it on his tummy as he slouches, looking up at the performance getting underway. "I sure hope not. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd probably drop the poor guy. Girl. Woman-person!" Kisseus is in haste to correct himself after the last time she chided him for determining her gender incorrectly. He finally lifts the cup to sip his tea and stop himself yammering any further.

Eddie continues her concert, undaunted. Why? She's not wearing garters. "Gina works the diner all daaaaay. Working for her man, she brings home her pay for love. For looooove. She says we've got to hold on, to what we've got!" Eddie rocks out with her imaginary guitar, leaning over Matto as if he were an adoring fan in the crowd. Currently Mooner is up on the table, giving a show. Even if she's the only one she's entertaining. "It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not! We've got each other, and that's a lot for looooove. We'll give it a shot! Ooooooh, we're half way…" Half way falling off the table. As she staightens back out to do a dance move, she gets in a tangle of gangly limbs and goes backwards, tits over teakettle. Think fast, papa bear. Kai's about to get a lap full of Eddie.

Thorn watches Eddie as she wails on the air guitar. "Someone got your six string in hock, Mooner?" he asks, smirking up at the woman who's now gyrating on the furniture. The smirk fades, though, replaced by a slightly perturbed look at Kai. "That's a base aspersion on my character, sir." he says mildly. Note he's not actually contradicting the CAG, of course. "I take my duties as an officer quite seriously." His tone is dry, but light. Estrella simply gets a flat browraised stare in response to her look. Oh, and there goes Eddie. Oops.

"Woman-person?" Roubani mutters back to Matto. He takes a sip of tea, the two of them watching this performance by Eddie as though it were on a movie screen a few rows forward. "When did 'woman' become passe'?" A slight wince as Eddie goes toppling, which brings out premature tension wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Point for gravity."

Matto adores dutifully from the crowd, listening to the song and watching the dancing and seeming fairly well to enjoy it after his little outburst. He does continue to chat with Nadiv, though: "I think you have to modify it unless you spell it with a 'y' or some such, I dunno, I never figured out all those rules," he notes, "Oh crap watch—" he begins to should, but she's already mid-topple, and he grimaces, shrugging up one shoulder and hunching toward Nadiv.

"When you're not stealing my motherfrakking smokes," notes the Captain over the rim of his cup, blue eyes sliding over to Komnenos as he says this. "And I'd contradict you, if I knew what the hell an aspersion was." Which he doesn't. O hai, Eddie. Thankfully, Kai's got good reflexes. He manages to jerk his cup away just as the viper jock clad in her skivvies careens backwards and into his lap. A little of the tea sloshes onto the deck, but most of it stays inside. He clears his throat, not really sure where to.. put his hands while she sorts herself out.

And the door opens bringing in an off duty ginger male. Where as he does not exactly look like Price (He's prettier) He does have the Libran background to make up for it. So, does that make Gresham then, the poor man's Willem? A comic book held in one hand, Gresham needless to say wheels in only to look up from what he is reading. A pause, before he's looking back down to turn one artfully done page, and then glance back up as if something finally-clicked. And clearly that is the look he has. A glance over to one corner of the room, and then back to where Eddie went toppling, still the Nugget doesn't say anything at the moment. Rather his mouth just drops.

"I am in the wrong bunk." They should promote Virgil to ensign obvious.

Estrella's eyebrows go way up there when Eddie topples, but she clamps her mouth shut and neatly crosses the room to the first set of bunks and sets her things on the bottom one, which seems to be empty. The first bag she sets aside without glancing at it, but the second one is pulled down off her shoulder with care. Slowly unzipping it, she leans down close and breathes in deep, a peaceful smile on her face. Anyone close enough to her will probably get a big whiff of some interesting smells.

"Yes, women often make me think of 'y'. Why, why." Roubani mutters drily, though mildly amused at all this. This has become /a lot/ of people all of a sudden and he slides his chair back a bit from the steadily increasing throng of people. Crowded.

Eddie oofs audibly, a wince in her eyes and a smile on her face. As her back side merely finds a Kai as a cushion instead of the floor, without missing a beat, she leans up and plants a big ole kiss on Marek's cheek before he can protest. "My hero." Bat bat bat of eyelashes, maaaaaaaybe a little wiggle just for good measure, and then she's back up, bopping back towards the head. "Livin' on a prayer! Take my hand, and we'll make it I sweeeear. Ooooh, livin' on a prayer…" Her voice drifts off as she goes back to finish getting dressed.

"Here, now," Anton protests archly. "That was a bloody hypothetical situation." Komnenos leans back, folding his arms as he takes a drag from his cigarette — and it is his, thankyouverymuch. He glances amusedly over at Eddie as the young woman bounces back to the head. Then, a look back to Kai, as Thorn pauses for effect. "Wouldn't steal from you anyway. You smoke cheap ones."

Matto finally gives a laugh as the situation resolves itself with a minimum of calamity. The very definition of a comedy, true? To take a plot to the brink of tragedy and pull it back at the last possible moment. He looks back over to Nadiv, smiling warmly, and takes another sip of tea, not commenting on the whys and wherefores of the womenfolk. Not qualified to comment. "What kind of tea is this, N?" he wonders.

Marek, as it turns out, has absolutely nothing to say about all this. He might be blushing, if he had any kind of shame. Which he doesn't. So he merely tries not to smile, or dump his tea on Eddie, though his lips twitch precipitously when she smacks a kiss on his cheek. "Go put some clothes on," he grumbles finally, trying to shoo her off his lap with mock irritation. To Thorn, "Maybe I'm just holding onto the good ones. Stowing them away out of reach of sticky fingered Lieutenants." He watches after Eddie for a few moments, then glances to Komnenos, then back down to his tea.

Deer in the headlights, or perhaps his motor has been shifted to neutral. All the Same, Gresham just stares at Eddie and Kai for a moment, unable to say more than he did a few seconds ago. And there in his minds eye, a sudden-FLASH- And he can clearly see Black berthings: A small thermos steams with Tea, while violins lightly play on someone's music player. Two ECO's are debating politics, a now dead love, while someone else reads philosophy. And then its gone to this. Underwear singing rancor.

A shake of his head, and Virgil is dog earring his page, and then carefully closing the comic book, which is moved to hang out of a cargo pocket. So what to do? There's a look to Poet- a familiar and less intimidating face than Kai's- but, he seems more or less as Gresham does in this moment. Virgil then looks over to Eddie, or what he can see of Eddie before she's bopping back towards the head. Clearing his throat there is only one other place to go. Thorn. And so the young nugget is moving there to just quietly, stand.

"It's called 'sangam'," Roubani replies quietly to Matto. Which, to those who speak Kashmiri, translates to 'Stone Flower'. "Supposedly the flower can grow even in the midst of stones, and so it's meant to grant that strength to the drinker." From his tone, he doesn't take it as a joke. His eyes lift from his cup, looking at Gresham and Estrella from under his brows. He clears his throat softly. "Would either of you care for a cup of tea?" The tin's not very full anymore, but one must be hospitable.

Turning around to see who that was directed at (and if it's safe to turn around, because who knows what kinds of things happen in here when a half naked woman falls backwards? There's stories, you know), Estrella sees Roubani looking over her way and beams at him. "I would love some," she admits. "Would…would you like a scone?" she offers back, glancing around her nervously. Maybe pilots don't eat scones. Maybe it was a really stupid thing to say. "I mean, I was thinking…for the tea," she half stammers before biting the insides of her cheeks.

Matto takes a small, air-riddled sip as Nadiv explains, letting it sit in his mouth a moment, since it's now of a temperature to do so without scalding. Finally swallowing, "It's really good," he tells N. "Thanks for sharing."

"Hnh." Thorn snorts at the CAG. "Well, sir, this sticky-fingered lieutenant has plenty good ones of his own." He takes another drag of said good one, blowing a procession of smoke rings for good measure. As he leans in his chair, a shadow flashes across his face; startled, Thorn turns to see WHOA, NUGGET AT SIX O'CLOCK. "Gods, nugget," he says in surprise, his eyes still wide — and directing a vexed expression at the poor ginger kid that's standing, like, right the frak over him. Or at least far too closely for his comfort, anyway. If he knows the guy's name, it's escaped him for the moment. "Y' need something, or y' just hoping t' learn something by osmosis?" There's annoyance in his tone, but no real hostility as he looks up at Gresham, thin-lipped and expectant. Yet.

Roubani's description of 'sangam' causes the CAG to smile fleetingly. He finishes the tea off in two more swallows, checks his watch, and slides the cup back across the table. "Che khoob, Nadiv," he murmurs, accent a little coarser than Poet's, but the language is the same. "Mamnoon," he tacks onto the end, meeting the younger pilot's eyes for a moment before pushing to his feet. "Be nice to the new kid," he warns, reaching for the viper flight manual he'd set down earlier. "And clean up any messes you make, if not." Both comments seem directed toward the room at large, rather than anyone in particular. Gresham gets a brief smile on his way out.

Gresham looks back towards Roubani and there's a faint brow raising as if it finally just clued into him that Poet, was indeed asking him a question. "Whuh..Me?" a pause "I-err." It would be impolite to refuse. He can see it now, saying no to Poet, and suddenly doors all over close for him. And someone leaks to bangbang how Willem got her toothbrush and what it has been used for. Quick thinking and a finger easing the neckline on his tanks has Gresham nodding slightly "Sure, I would love some." voice squeaking a little at the end. Oh that was smoooooth.

And then as startled Thorn emits 'Gods, nugget' Virgil is turning his head. "Uh." Well shit what does one say to that-at least he's not pissing himself like a puppydog would when confronted with such…thorny-ness. "I was just-" Quick, answer! "Standing." And another burn for Virgil "That's allowed, sir?" a look from Thorn and then back towards the CAG, yes he is clear for landing?

"You have scones?" Roubani's soft-spoken voice sounds mildly surprised, while not raising even a fraction. "Oh, Stathis will adore you…" His mind catches and he clears his throat, embarassed. "I'm sorry, what was your name?" Attention flickers to Kai as the CAG speaks Kashmiri to him and he gives the other man a similarly fleeting smile. "Good hunting," he pronounces quietly. And since there are two more requests for tea, he leaves his cup by Matto's arm to be safeguarded while he sets about fetching two more cups. And water.

Of course Eddie reemerges /after/ Kai's given his warnings about cleaning up messes and being nice to the nuggets, so it certainly can't apply to her, right? At least she's fully clothed now, in a pair of fatigue pants and a NAVY tshirt that looks too big for her frame. "Hate to see you go, Sir. Love to watch you leave!" She calls after retreating Kai. "Frak me. More new people. Drop and give me twenty, NUGGETS! AIR RAID!" Damn, that never gets old.

Matto draws his arm off of the table and then sets it on top of the table again on the other side of the mug left in his care. He looks to Marek at his injunction to be nice; easily enough done, he thinks, giving a gentle nod. "See ya later, Captain Marek."

Estrella nods quickly to Roubani and then shrugs. "Well, it's not exactly scones. I mean, they look like scones, as best I could make them, and with tea, they're not so bad…" She looks around and then leans in, like she's imparting some big secret. "…but they're really just some biscuit-type things I snagged from the mess when I was sleeping there." She sheepishly leans back and crooks a smile. "It feels better to call them scones, though." When Eddie yells out, Estrella jumps to her feet, but hesitates slightly to look over at Virgil. Is he going to do them? Was she serious? Is she already in deep shit for standing here rather than getting to work?

Wait, what? Thorn does a slight double-take at Gresham's answer. His arms unfold, and yes, that is a rather unpleasant spark in his eye. "Oh, standing, are you? Well, Crewman Apprentice Smartarse, you're also breathing right th' frak down my neck… and seeing as you aren't my dear lady, that's not really a position you should be in, now, is it?" Thorn's hackles are, by now, quite raised. His eyes roll at Gresh's question. "No. Standing is an offense punishable by amputation at the ankles. Any more bloody stupid questions?"

Roubani still hasn't gotten a name from Estrella, but he shrugs it off for now. Thorn and Eddie are having their nugget fun for the night. Spotting Eddie's appearance he gets yet another mug two, making three on the table that he then stains red with the unmarked teabags from his tin. Doo dee doo, nugget theatre.

"A what?" Apparently, Gresham has not been indoctrinated into the whole this is what you do when a Lieutenant yells at you. Instead he stares confusedly at Eddie for a moment, before he's looking back to a leaving Kai. Egads, so much going on and Virgil's ADD mind is trying to steal it all in, but with the nice and shiny distractions? He is having one dickens of a time.

Still there are no real push ups coming from him. Instead he's looking back over to Thorn for a second. "I didn't think, I was that close to you sir. Though I mean if you want me that close, I can move." But really poor Thorn is one of two he now knows in the room. "Uh, no sir." He can keep this going, really.

Thorn seems to have Gresham, so Eddie splits off to focus on Estrella instead. "I'm sorry /NUGGET/. Did I stutter? Or maybe you just have a problem taking orders. Is that how we're going to start? Right out of the tubes, and already I can't trust that you're going to cover my ass because you're going to be too busy chatting about scones over the coms instead of juking Raiders off my ass. Or are your pissy little arms too weak to do twenty frakking pushups?"

Matto doesn't have much of a problem trying to figure out who's talking to whom, letting the conversation swim hazily around his ears as he watches the tea-making process, those first drops of red creeping out into the water.

The wheel spins, the door pops open and there's a plume of smoke drifting through the hatch as the source becomes readily apparent. A cigarette lodged between Wil's teeth wafts a grey hazy trail in the still air of the berthings as he ducks inside. Apparently Mr. Quitter's off the wagon for the moment. At least for this one cigarette, whever he got it.

And though Rebound is smoking, Roubani on the other hand isn't. He doesn't even have a pack in his pocket or on the table today. It's like BIZARRO RED BERTHINGS. He settles in his seat, leaving the three tea mugs on the table for their future owners whenever they get done snarking or being snarked at, picking his mug back up from Matto's protective arm. "Thank you."

"Sir, no sir," Estrella manages out quickly, dropping to the floor and beginning her pushups which, if we're being honest here, she's not the greatest at. Scrinching her eyes shut, she just goes up down, up down, counting softly beneath her breath. Eight, nine, ten. Eleven, twelve, thirteen. What kind of jackass came up with pushups, anyway?

"Mhm," Kisseus replies quietly, drawing his arm off of the table again and leaning back, taking the mug with him and slouching down to savor it is slow slupping sips as it lends his stomach the fortitude to handle supper. The disciplining is happily left to those who have a taste for it; he sits not far from Nadiv and is content in the quiet company. More than content.

"You didn't think. Well, that's th' smartest frakkin' thing you've said so far, Smartarse," Thorn growls, as he stands, shoving the chair aside with his foot. He takes another drag of the cigarette, exhaling heavily as he stares at Gresham's face. "Yes, when I felt hot nugget breath on my neck, that's a clear frakkin' sign you were way across the bloody room." His eyes narrow, and his voice has gotten noticeably louder since the beginning of his little routine. For a notorious fiend of a smoker, Thorn's voice still does carry quite well. "What would have ever given you that impression, nugget? My reaction didn't clue you in? Gods, man, do you ever think? Does that ginger nugget brain of yours even have th' capability t' move faster than a drooling paraplegic?" Komnenos shakes his head. "Lords pity whoever finds themselves in a Raptor with the likes of you… th' bloody Cylons will splatter your arse across the stars before you even know they're around, if you think this slowly in th' middle of th' shit."

Eddie just sticks around long enough to make sure Estrella's kissing deck before she turns back to the table, that entire riot act dropped almost immediately. "Oooh. Tea." She makes her way over, dragging one of the mugs in her direction as she chooses a chair near Matto and Roubani.

Roubani chuckles under his breath at Eddie, nudging one of the tea mugs her way with his fingertips until she can grab it to drag. There's an idle glance at his watch, confirming that the time justifies how tired he feels, and he takes a quiet sip of tea as he watches Thorn's entertainment for the evening. "How is your stomach feeling?" He asks of Morales.

There's a turn of his head when in comes Willem, and for once Virgil seems as if he is relieved or somewhat relieved. Then Thorn speaks back up, and there's a look right back towards the other pilot-err ECO. The exhale is waved off, and a mild cough given right back. "But I didn't breathe on your neck sir. I was to your starboard side, thus unable to whisper sweet nothings or even breathe in your neck's trajectory. However if there is a gulf current that stays completely within Red Sqaud's bunk, I could see how that happens sir."

He's being quick on his toes, or trying too, even if the reply comes a stutter step too slow. "Sir, I think it does, given the fact that the cylons have on three separate occasions have had the chance to kill me already and yet by some twits of fate, or brainpower I've managed to survive this long sir." There's a slight twitch in his cheek, and one hand is moving to rub at one eye. Must be the smoke. "I do not think slowly." just sporadically.

Yanking the cigarette out of his mouth and expelling a drag, Willem meanders on in with a tired look, tousled hair and a wrinkled forehead. A standard fleet-issue duffel bag is slung over his shoulder, bearing the official imprint of his last name. His eyes narrow at the goings-on but he doesn't make a move to comment on anyone or anything here, just yet.

Estrella eventually finishes her pushups and stands slowly, unsure of what happens now. "Sir?" she aks of Eddie, quietly. "Am I excused?" She doesn't look anywhere other than at Eddie, regardless of the incredible things coming out of Virgil's mouth.

Matto's happy smile draws into something more broad as Eddie manages her way into the slice of existance his brian's currently limited to recognizing. He waits in quiet for the answer, eyebeams lazily brushing her face.

Eddie settles into her chair, hugging the mug greatfully in her hands. "Better. Got my stitches removed yesterday. Should be back on the line in a few day or so. Back to flying circles around your asses." Comes the reply to Roubani, but her attention gets pulled away by Estrella-nugget. "Huh?" Oh right. "Yeah. Dismissed, punkin. Though don't skip out on this tea. You'll regret it."

Estrella nods to Eddie and reaches out for her tea, searching the room for Roubani. "Thanks," she mouths to him silently, and gesturing to her bag with her head, adds, "Later," before slipping out of the room, mug in hand.

Yes, yes, don't waste the tea. Roubani gestures Estrella to it with a little motion of his long index finger. He happens to notice Willem just after Eddie talks, lifting the mug a bit, then it's back to Eddie to Matto in his corner. "Oh, that's good-…" The word ends with a sudden yawn, which he blocks with the back of his hand and then blinks rapidly to recover from. "Pardon /me/."

"I did want to thank you, by the by, Moonshine. For swatting those raiders off of my tail out there. You and Darling Willem both," Kissy declaims softly in Moonshine's direction.

"Don't get cheeky with me, nugget." Thorn continues staring down Gresham, punctuating his accented growling with bursts of acrid cigarette smoke. His eyes narrow further and his lip twitches in an ugly sneer as he catches something else Gresham said. "And… did you just call me a liar, Crewman Apprentice Smartarse? Not content with pure stupidity, you're moving on t' insubordination now, are y'?" More smoke. There's a pause, and some of that sunken fury in Thorn's eyes disperses. But just some. His tone lightens, and the next words out of his mouth are said almost conversationally. "Frankly, Smartarse, I don't believe you." But then, just like that, the dull roar is back. "If you're too frakkin' slow t' realize y' could have averted this whole conversation — and not forced me t' waste my time — by just saying 'yes sir' or 'sorry sir' and moving five bloody steps, y' either have no brains or no sense. I'm not sure I'm looking forward t' learning the answer, because either one can get your dumb arse — and your pilot's — killed just as easily." He tilts his head to one side. "You know, Mooner had th' right idea. On your face. Maybe twenty — no, fifty — pushups will get the blood flowing and loosen whatever seems t' be jammed up there, in that lifeless bloody grey sponge you call a brain." He gestures wildly towards Gresh's head, but doesn't actually make contact with the man.

Eddie watches Estrella beat feet, then gives a little shake of her head. Tsk. Dark eyes go back to Matto. "Just doin' my job, sugarpie. Wasn't my favorite mission of all time, though, so I'm not tackin' it up in my scrapbook." Thorn takes things to new heights, and Eddie has to forceably bite the inside of her cheek to not smile. When that fails, its a sip of tea.

Roubani keeps a surreptitious eye on Thorn and Gresham. It's quite neutral on both, keeping track of them and the words going between them for now. He sips his tea as well, coming down to near the bottom of the mug by now.

Willem's eyes simply narrow a bit further as Thorn vents some pure Aerilonian wrath upon the hapless ginger nugget, stepping aside to give Estrella a -wide- berth. Another drag off his cigarette and he takes in a brief, deep sigh. Matto's statement snaps him out of whatever he was doing to orient himself as he just looks between the man, and Mooner, and shrugs a little in a lopsided manner which results in the duffel bag slipping down his arm. He turns towards his locker and starts fiddling with the mechanism. "Escort duty. You don't need to thank me. If I'd let you take hits I'd be taking the heat anyway." He smirks a half-smirk as the cigarette gets re-propped between his teeth.

Matto smiles warmly at Eddie. "I know it's your job— but you do it very, very well. And Babydoll and I are both grateful for that." The latter said with his neck twisted back to tell it toward Willem without acually having to do something as silly as moving. Another tiny sip of tea… drawing out the end of the cup, knowing it'll be bedtime after this, and this— well, besides the newbie tortures— it's nice.

"Sir, I am not being cheeky, I am merely stating that it would be in fact hard for me to breathe down your neck, when I do not know you very well, and I don't think you like my in such a fashion." Right now, Virgil is very much playing on the edge of the ball as it were. "Sir, this conversation is based upon the fact that I breathed on your neck. I am merely trying to prove my innocence in such a matter-" but thet rest is cut off as he is looking back to the Lieutenant.

"I have never killed a pilot that I have flown with sir. NEVER." punctuated. "Sir in fact I am responsible for my crew making it to the Elpis and thus to the Bellerophon, before she went down, Lords rest all their souls." and there is a swallow. "I would not or will not kill, a pilot." all gritted out from Gresham's mouth there. And yes Virgil is flushing right there, a tinge of red easy to detect along his ears, and his cheeks. "How many push ups, did you want sir?" Uh, what?

Eddie palms the top of her cup of tea, pushing back from the table again. "Yeah, well. Thanks." For all her bravado, something about this conversation doesn't seem to be sitting well with Eddie. As she walks back to her bunk to disappear for the night, she reaches out to ruffle Matto's hair in passing. "G'night."

Roubani is done with his own tea and by now rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. They tired-itch. He stands up, plucking up any empty mugs left around by the tea party participants, and sets them into their place to be cleaned. "Good night, Eddie." Even if she wasn't talking in that direction.

Wil's making a pointed attempt to ignore some of the hairier bits of nugget education here. Well, not quite true. He acknowledges it with more or less of a shrug. It's clear that he's letting this be Thorn's game, though. Stuffing his bag into his now-open locker, he starts to shrug his way out of his boots and uniform jacket, all while looking back at Matto and says, flatly. "Thanks. I'm glad we got everyone. Everyone. Back." Something about this may indeed be raising Wil's hackles too. Like Roubani, he shoots Eddie a quick, "Good night." As well, his voice a bit distant.

Matto's brows knit together a tiny bit in some manner of recognition that something's off, but he grins at the hair-ruffle, "Sleep well, Moonshine," he tells her, standing, himself, unable to draw out the last drops of tea past a further sip. He turns toward Darling Willem with a brow quirked upward at the flat tone, uncertain what, if anything, he ought to take from it, but he readily agrees, "So say we all."

"This conversation is based upon the fact that you are contradicting a superior officer and refusing to follow said superior's orders," Thorn corrects Gresham with that roaring growl. "You have got t' be the gods-damned stupidest nugget I have ever seen. What part of anything I just said could have possibly escaped you? Have I not given your poor overworked brain enough time t' process the information?" Komnenos eyes the nugget coldly. "If the next words out of your mouth are not 'Understood, sir' or a variation thereof I will put you on report." He sneers thinly. "I'm not in th' habit of repeating my orders, Smartarse. If you don't stop on the number I told you, you'll have twenty more on top of that. Try t' remember better next time."

Roubani stays out of all the hackle-raising, which by now seems to have flooded the entire room in some way or another. Washing cups for now. Mmhmm.

"Sir" as if to say that there were two numbers given, but then the young man is shaking his head for a moment as if to stop the gritting of his teeth. "Understood, sir." A swallow there for a moment, before Gresham is quietly moving to get down on the floor in the proper push up form as is taught by the regulated drill sergeant. A deep breath, and with that he's beginning to do his pushups. One, two…three.

"You said it." Wil responds back towards Matto with a tight, but pronounced smile. It's pretty obvious that, by the disarmed, cheerful look he shoots the man, whatever grabbed ahold of his mood had nothing to do with him -personally-. His locker contents secured, he edges over towards his bunk. "Settling back in, Poet?" He shoots Roubani a sidelong glance as he hops onto his ladder.

Matto stills looks vaguely as though he wants to ask about the hackles, but, it being late and him not wanting the evening to sour as far as all that, he just returns the smile, less brightly than he generally would, but there, nonetheless. He takes his mug over to where Nadiv's doing the washing. "Here, N, let me handle washing up. You made tea for everyone," he points out. "You get some rest, yah?"

"I mentioned to Marek," Roubani says to Willem, without turning around at first. "That the culture shock was worse returning than leaving." He's gotten through about two mugs out of the bunch, and as Matto comes over he flicks water off his hands. The final flick goes right at Matto's face. /Might/ have been accidental. "Thank you." A half-smile, then he reaches for a towel to dry his hands with and looks back up at the hopping Willem. "But it is home, what can I say. And you, settling into the pins?"

Thorn watches as Gresham finally gives up his protests and sinks to the floor, knocking out pushup after pushup. His expression seems to soften considerably as the man works on his penance. Thorn leans down to speak softly to Gresham as the nugget continues to push himself up and down. "Killing can be accomplished as easily through inaction as through action," he says, meant for Gresh's ears only. "If you're even an instant too slow on th' defense, you've lost a valuable flight crew and an irreplaceable machine… not t' mention th' Vipers out there who are depending on your jamming t' hamper th' Raiders on their arses. You have t' act quickly and act correctly t' keep your people alive… a lot more quickly than y' currently seem t' be capable of. We'll work on that, though." His head tilts to one side as he smirks again. "Consider this your first lesson in military realities, Smartarse." That said, Thorn raises himself back to a standing position, smoking his cigarette and retreating back to his abandoned seat as Gresham continues to knock out pushups.

Wil's head arcs between Matto and Roubani as he perches atop his ladder now, pursing his lips a little bit. "Yeah. It's a madhouse. Even when our neighbors are over." He juts his chin vaguely towards Thorn and Gresham. Matto, for whatever reason, isn't pointed out in this mass gesture. "But like you said. And honestly? I'm still figuring out how heavy they're going to be. So far I haven't been invited to one of the super-secret Full-Lieutenant plots where we work on a vast conspiracy, but that may just be because I'm still new."

Matto gives a little chuff of a sneeze as dishwater's flicked at his face, but he grins, no less, content to accept the drizzling without resorting to retribution. Not -now,- at least. He just gives a genial nod and takes N's place at the dishwashing station, taking up the washing methodically and placidly.

There's a quiet knock on the hatch of the Red Squadron berthings a moment before they open and a small Marine sneaks in. Ok, so she doesn't sneak. Not like she can hide behind anyone, truth be told. She's the only one there. However, her head pops around the side of the hatch first before the rest of her slowly follows. Someone clearly learned her lesson about caution in strange places. Her eyes are a -touch- wide as she glances around, rather like she's preparing herself to enter the lion's den. In her left hand, well, there's something cloth-like, balled up, and purple.

Roubani leans back against the counter edge for a moment as Willem talks. He smiles just a bit at Ginger Thing One. "I have heard they involve saran wrap and coconut brassieres. If that is the case I am content they do remain secret." He rubs his eyes again, now squinting as he's so damn tired. Pushing off the counter he remarks to Willem more seriously, "I have faith in you, Price…a good deal of it. I will see you tomorrow, hm?" To Dishwasher Matto, quietly, "Good night." And he's off for his bunk. Zzzzzz is needed.

There's a nugget doing pushups on the floor, a rather irate-looking ECO standing next to the table watching him, cigarette in hand, and several other pilots clustered around here and there conversing quietly. Not quite a normal night in Red berthings, but not far from it. Thorn looks up from his cigarette at Epi, a slight furrow to his brow as he observes the woman's entry, but says nothing else, just continuing to watch Gresham keep cranking out pushups.

Gresham says nothing as it seems the nugget is busy doing his push up. And trying to keep count, with, what is going on with what Thorn is saying…Well, it makes it difficult. Still, Virgil offers a quick nod and a quiet grunt as he continues doing Lieutenant Komnenos' bidding. Nothing better to do than pick it up, right?

Mm. Shower time. Nothing like a nice, almost long (as long as regs and rations will allow) hot shower. Sam's still basking in the glow of overheated, flushed skin, just wearing a towel with her hair twisted up in some non regulation pink towel thing, shower bag under her arm, looking refreshed and happy. Almost zombie like with relaxation, as she steps into the room.

"Somehow I find that flattering." Wil says towards Roubani as the man starts to settle in. "Um. The latter. Not the fashion secrets. Although it probably explains Rabbit's easygoing, charming demeanor." He brings his hand upwards to cover his mouth with the back of it, muffling the sound of a cough. This done, he sits back in his bunk, just watching Gresham's PT shenanigans, with a slight shake of his head.

Huh. Pilots are here. A lot of pilots are here. Epi hesitates in the doorway, looking around as if she's not quite sure whether she wants to continue in or whether she's about to flee. Unfortunately, she gets caught by Gresham doing push-ups. For some reason, her attention bounces from Thorn to Gresham, brows furrowed.

"G'night, N," Kissy calls back, chipper enough, as he shows his domesticated side over by the sink, scrubbing dishes. Err. Just mugs, really. But he seems serious about their cleanliness.

"In or out, Shortstack." Thorn's voice is possessed of slightly more steel than usual — probably something to do with the nugget on the floor in front of him. "Make up your mind." His arms crossed once again, his flinty gaze flicks from Gresham to Epi for a moment; Samantha and the rest of them are behind him, so he likely hasn't noticed her entry, or Roubani's retiring. Nor is he paying much attention to their hushed conversations at the moment.

In the meantime, Wil reaches for an ashtray and starts flicking ash from the end of the rest of his cigarette. Mr. Quitter seems to be enjoying his lapse. There's a brief glance towards the diminutive marine towards the door but nothing beyond that. He simply lolls his head a few inches downwards, catching Sam. "Lo, Case." He says, with a hint of a smirk.

Samantha lofts a brow, looking at whatever is going on in front of her with a somewhat curious gaze. "Hey, hot marine chick." She smiles warmly to Epi, even if the girl seems ready to flee, before Sam pads barefoot over towards her locker and pulls it open. She tosses her shower bag inside, but doesn't quite reach for her clothes yet. Sometimes a nice, fluffy towel is all one needs to be right with the world. "…what's goin' on?"

Samantha adds quickly, "Rebound." Apparently, she's being nice tonight. No Pookies.

That's all Epi needs to hear. Her eyes snap to Thorn's face and she turns, without hesitation, and flees, silent. The scrap of purple fabric's still in her hands.

Gresham continues pushing up and down, because this is what happens when you try to argue with someone other than Castor. With Castor, you at least are able to insult Aquaria for an hour before he finally tells you he is from Aquaria. Still he is going along: Fifteen, sixteen..Four more and he is stopping, but he is not hopping up immediately. It seems he is holding to see if he needs to go further, but then, he's just-waiting.

Matto sets all the mugs upside-down on the tree to let them dry, drying off his own hands on the dishtowel and wiping up the sink area, surveying it with a sort of satisfaction before he turns about, tilting his head to one side to bury a yawn against his upper arm. "Oh. Beece. Did you get the thing?"

The hatch to the Red Berthings opens to admit Thea, in her flight suit still, freshly back from CAP. That much is clear given the way her hair is plastered against her skull. Helmets and hair don't go well together, after all. Despite being in the flight suit, she seems relaxed, for the most part, a tired smile on her face. There just so happens to be a file folder tucked under one arm.

"Don't you even think about stopping there, Smartarse. You've still got thirty t' go." No mention is made of the extra twenty in case Gresham guessed wrong; perhaps Thorn's simply waiting to remind him of that unpleasant reality, or maybe he's just feeling merciful. Who knows? He turns at the sound of more voices, a smile finally cracking that grim facade as he sees Samantha wrapped in a towel that leaves a lot less to the imagination than her uniform does.

Samantha pauses at that question from Matto, and she just grins instead. She doesn't quite respond verbally, but she leans torso into her locker, digging a moment before she comes back out… Now wearing white and pink bunny ears on top of her pink towel wrapped head. It's a new fashion style. She smiles wide and shuts her locker, perching on the edge of the bunk below her's as she grins to the group. "Indeed, Kissy. And I missed them. Thank you, though, I hope they were put to good use." She then winks up to Thorn, still just in her towel. Comfortable, dammit.

Meanwhile, Wil just lets his cigarette wind down as he leans into the back of his bunk, drifting off a bit.

Matto grins back at Sam, flushing vaguely pinkish at the question. "Very good use… thanks, Beece," he tells her again, coming round to lean over and give her a big hug, not really minding her state of partial undress. Snugged! Then, standing again, he strolls for the hatch, "It's bedtime for me, yah. See you all later. Don't break your arms, Mantua," he tells the newbie on the floor by way of encouragement. "Oh, hey, Kittenface."

"Right." grunted before There's the simple push of his shoulders as he is going further. Oh isn't this nice. Fifty of them. Oh joy oh joy. Still Virgil is a man of his word..or rather a man who doesn't want more push ups, and so he will be rightly working on them overtime. He'd rather be done with this whole mess. After all it was his mouth? Or his breathing that got him into this.

Samantha blinks to Matto as he hugs her, and she laughs, reaching up to return the hug, her towel precariously hanging on by just an inch or two of fabric, but she manages to catch the tuck from falling once she pulls her arms back from the hug. "Rest well, Kissy. Good to see ya as always. You can regale me with the dirty things my ears have done later on."

Thea makes her way down the line, dipping her head to those present, smiling a bit. "Evening Madman, Case, Thorn, Gresham, Rebound," she greets, making her way through. But then, for some reason, something stops her. She looks down to Gresham then up to the rest of the room, head tilted a bit. "Why is one of my nuggets on the floor doing push-ups," she asks mildly.

Hearing his callsign jolts him upwards a little. Wil's head tilts to one side as he ashes again. "Evening, Captain." He murmurs, smiling a little still. His voice is a bit drowsy.

Matto looks from Legsy down to the Man from Mantua and back again, "Hm, well, the other one was in here doing them before. It may be he didn't want to feel left out," he hypothesizes. No, he wasn't really paying attention to the Vergil/Toes conflict, but he does look over in Toes' direction, next, for more data.

Oh look, higher authority. "Captain." Thorn offers Thea a nod. "The nugget… Mr. Gresham…" There, Thorn finally has a name to put with the face. "… and I had a minor difference of opinion. His response was unsatisfactory." Komnenos shrugs slightly. "The issue's been resolved, sir."

Gresham is not answering at the moment except to say "Forty-two.." that's about it as he's counting out his last pushups and moving to stop again in the perfect from once that struggling eight one comes up. Egads he does these during the day. His arms cannae handle it now it seems, or so that is what it is looking like. Still The Nugget remains on the floor for a moment. He did hear the Captain, right?

Thea looks slightly confused for a moment, blinking at Thorn. The expression soon gives way to slight bemusement. "I see," she says nodding once, tone mild. "Interesting." Her eyes cut to Thorn's face. "Interesting way of dealing with a difference of opinion, Mr. Komnenos. I'll have to remember that and discuss the tactic with the other nugget training officers." She starts down the row toward Kai's bunk, clearly about to dismiss the whole thing. "Oh, Mr. Komnenos," Thea says, pausing to look over her shoulder at him for a moment. "His form is slightly off. I think fifty more would be appropriate, don't you? If you'd do the honor of showing him how it's done?"

Samantha grins, still remaining perched on the bunk below hers, bare legs crossing so she can sit like a -lady- in her towel. She chuckles huskily…"Can he do it in his boxers, Black Cat? You know…just so we can all study his proper form." Oh yes, if he gets to heckle the nuggets, she's gonna heckle him!

Thorn is clearly taken aback by Thea's words, on several levels. He hesitates, blinking in surprise at the Captain. But really, as he just went to all this effort to demonstrate to Gresham, what other choice does he have with a superior officer? An eyebrow raises slightly, but he merely nods and shucks off his uniform top, revealing his tattooed upper arms. Looks like that extra work in the gym he's been doing lately is starting to pay off, finally. "Of course, sir," he replies blandly as he immediately pops down to the floor and begins cranking out pushups, rapid fire. His form hasn't suffered much since OCS, it seems — but he probably had plenty of practice in those days, too.

Thorn has just enough time to shoot Samantha a vexed glare before his face touches metal.

Gresham is looking back towards Thorn for a moment, as he is coming off his knees, and there's a raise of his brow back to the Captain and then over to the Lieutenant. "Do I need to do it with him sir?" slightly confused, but then Virgil's mind is a wee bit vexed at the moment. He doesn't want to get any more pushups thanks.

Ohcrap. The Cap'n's in a make-people-do-pushups mood, too. It must be going around. Well, Kissybear was juuuuust heading to the hatch any ol' way. He takes a half-step back, slow, as if afraid to draw fire, then another step, just as slow, 'til his heel touches the hatchway. Then, "Well, night, everyone!" he repeats, and has jumped over the bottom lip of the hatchway before the words have barely cleared the threshold of his lips.

Thea watches Thorn for a moment to make sure that his form is right. "I can still see deck when your chest goes down, Mr. Komnenos," she comments with a slight upturn of her lips. It's merely constructive criticism, after all. "Case? Time and place for everything. What you two do in the privacy of your own bunk is none of my damned business. As for you, Mr. Gresham…" The Captain's eyes turn to the nugget and she studies him for a time. "Do YOU think you need to do them with Lieutenant Komnenos?" Yep. She just turned the question back on him.

Samantha's rather too happy smile faulters, just a bit, as Thea states flatly about the time and place. Dammit. Still, she turns her green eyes back and watches the interplay before her, at least enjoying what line of Thorn's muscles she can see.

Wil's a fly on the wall. Yep. One who stubbed out his cigarette in his ashtray and has reclined lazily back in his bunk, arms crossed behind his head as he looks between the ceiling and the PT atrocity below.

Gresham is quiet for a moment as he looks back towards Lieutenant Komnenos and then back towards the Captain. "Captain, Sir." quiet for a moment. "I do not know if my arms can handle it right now, but I can try." said simply, before he's shooting a look back over towards Thorn, and then he's trying again. Though he'll be starting at one. Oh his poor guns. All the same as to whatever discussion or differing opinions he and Thorn had, Virgil is remaining, mums on the deal.

Thorn's by no means a musclebound stud, but the newfound tone of his arms indicates he's been working to reverse the effects of his relative sedentariness of the past couple years. Pushups rise and fall. His lips move ever so slightly as he keeps count, a muttered 'fifty' being the only audible number as Thorn finally comes to a stop, drawing himself up to his feet. Blue eyes flick back and forth from Thea to Gresham, but he's not saying anything this time.

"On your behind, Gresham," Thea says quietly. "I'm not risking anyone's injury over pushups. Just note Mr. Komnenos' form for later." It's a simple, quiet order. Then she's putting the file folder on Kai's bunk, simply dropping it off. "Thank you, Lieutenant Komnenos. I'm certain Mr. Gresham's form will benefit from the demonstration." Then she catches sight of Sam again and, yes, somewhat surreptitiously, the Captain winks at her.

Samantha looks up to Thea, still not entirely certain how to react, apparently a touch gun shy with the woman still, but she returns the wink with a bit of a flushed smile, her skin still warm and pink like she was just out of the shower, but most of that glow should have faded. Now she's just enjoying Thorn, that much is clear. "Survivin' down there, handsome? Or am I gonna have to come give mouth to mouth?"

Finally, Wil sort of follows suit with Roubani and joins the ranks of the sleeping. Numerous ZzzzzzZzz's will be caught, that's for damn sure.

"You're welcome, sir," Thorn replies woodenly as he retrieves his green uniform top. That oh-so-blank expression of his shifts from Thea over to Samantha, and his only response is a rather perturbed-looking raise of one eyebrow as he grabs a cigarette and lights it before folding his arms across his chest.

Gresham is easily moving to his behind after a few other, well freaking tries at doing the requested Push up. And there's a look to Thorn, before he's moving to stand a bit shakily, but it doesn't take him long to smooth out his frumpled off duty get up. "If you'll excuse me sirs." said albeit a bit weakly. "I need to finish some reading.." And there's a quick nod, bobbed out before Virgil is making a a mad dash for the hatch.

The Captain dips her head to Gresham. "Good night, Mr. Gresham," she says quietly. "And to you as well Case, Thorn." Her errand taken care of, the file dropped off, Thea moves toward the hatch behind the fleeing nugget.

Samantha gives Thea a brief salute, "Good night, sir… and nugget…" She smiles to them both, then looks up to Thorn, blinking a moment… considering the room. Are they… -alone-? This cannot happen. This doesn't seem possible. She pauses…"…did… they just… leave us… alone?" She barely dares to say it outloud.

Thorn remains silent, his expression thin-lipped and pinched as he begins rebuttoning his top, nugget and captain both going for the exit. The impromptu PT session didn't quite leave him in a sweat as it once might have, but he's still breathing a little heavily. His fingers freeze halfway up the uniform blouse, and he looks up in surprise, all traces of that sour expression gone. "You know…" he begins hesitantly, looking around and not seeing anyone other than the retreating form of the Raptor captain. "I think they did," Thorn finishes in a hushed voice. He remains still, though, suddenly unsure what to do with the sudden opportunity. And to think he'd been lecturing Gresham on thinking quickly.

It takes a few moments, Sam looking around the room, eyes just a bit wide as she waits for someone to come in the door, or wake up from the bunk. The only sound she gets in return is Willem's heavy snoring, a clear indication he's dropped off to sleep time. They are… Alone. "…Holy shit." She breathes out, laughing softly. She reaches up and pulls off her bunny ears and down the pink towel, letting all her wet blonde hair free, slightly more attractive than it being wrapped up. She remains hidden under her towel, though. "..So… nice form, handsome…"

That comment doesn't exactly put Thorn in the mood, it seems. "Well, I'm glad someone enjoyed it," he mutters. "That was humiliating." For the moment, his blouse is forgotten as he takes another drag from his new cigarette. "Doing pushups. In front of a gods-damned nugget. I swear, there are times I'm around her I feel like I never left OCS."

Samantha frowns, as he's not coming over to immediately pounce her. She definitely looks disappointed. Maybe they're destined NEVER to frak. She sighs, reaching a hand out in silent request for a cigarette from him. "…I dunno what exactly went down there, or why you were doing it… but… Thea's good people. Just… strict. She doesn't like people being bullies, and I suspect that's what she thought was going on. Forget about it, it's over… we're…here now."

Anton gives Samantha a hard glance, but bites off whatever it was he was about to say in reply. Probably a good thing, too, as the glint that had become noticeable in his eyes as Sam spoke is never a good sign. "There's bullying and there's discipline," he snaps in reply instead. "I wasn't doing anything that an OCS instructor wouldn't have done." A slightly sadistic OCS instructor, perhaps, but still. The point is made nonetheless. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of his anger as he leans against the table. His cigarette is offered to Samantha. "Last one," he explains. "Pack's empty. We can split this one."

Samantha winces as she hears that about the smoke, and she shakes her head gently. "No… no… 'syours. Your reward. I can handle without." She isn't going to ask the guy to sacrafice some of his LAST cigarette. It's just too damned precious. She sighs, hugging her towel around her a bit tighter, the mood definitely slightly ruined. "Well…I don't know. I think the kid will be closer with you now, seeing that you weren't giving the order to do something you weren't willing to do yourself."

"No, go ahead. Got plenty more in th' stash, just don't feel like grabbing another pack right now. Take it, really." Thorn's still holding out the still-mostly-unsmoked cigarette to the woman. "Course, I could always nab a pack off of Marek…" That's said with the tiniest hint of a smile, as if part of a joke. He sighs, though, as the conversation gets serious again. "You think I give a frak if I'm close with th' kid? He's a nugget, not my best bloody friend. I don't need t' prove anything t' him." There's a shake of the head. "Look, you were right… we should just drop this. Shouldn't've even brought it up."

Samantha takes the cigarette as he admits he has more. Thank the gods. She takes in a deep, slow breath of it, shutting her eyes and letting it return her to her half relaxed state. A second puff before she's handing it back in his direction, most of her lovely glow faded now to her normal skin tone, hair wetly clinging to her bare shoulders and throat. "Yeah… it's passed. Drop it. Don't worry. We… can't spend our days worrying about the past or the future. nothing we can damned do about either."

Thorn accepts the cigarette back, taking a quick couple of powerdrags before handing it back to Samantha. "Right." An appraising glance is cast at the woman; taking in the sight of her seems to push the recent episode out of his mind. "You're right… I can think of much more important things t' do." He grins, his 'mood' suddenly returned. Thorn sidles up to her, taking her in his arms and letting his hands roam up and down the towel. "Things we've been putting off far too long." With that, his fingers gently pull through her hair as he moves forward to kiss her.

Samantha can't entirely believe this is happening, strangely. Of course, it was -bound- to… but it always seemed that far off day, when the world was perfect, the cylons were gone, and people could just settle down and be in love. Perhaps not all things are impossible. She leans up, into his touch, and then his kiss, her full, soft mouth tasting of his cigarette and sweetened coffee she must have been sipping just before her shower… and moist femininty. Soft, wanting… She reaches up, moving to undo that shirt he was just doing up, wanting to touch the bare skin of his chest…

As the last button is undone, Thorn's shoulders and arms undulate as he tries to shed the uniform top without breaking the kiss. There's something surreal about the moment… as though it couldn't really be happening, because a crowd of laughing pilots hadn't jumped through the hatch to interrupt them yet. Finally, though, the green fatigue top comes free, and it's tossed somewhere. The kiss gets deeper as his hands begin tearing at his twin tanks as well. They, too, end up going the route of the BDU blouse. Now free, his arms resume their clasp around Samantha as his lips move down her cheek and neck.

A slight moan crosses her lips, leaning her head back, baring her throat to him so he has as much space as he wishes to nibble and kiss. She pauses, just a moment, to indeed get his tanks off, and then they're ontop of each other again. She gives a small grunt…"Frak… my bunk… up…" They've actually got to -climb- into her bed, sadly, so she kisses him deeply again and then climbs in and over head… her towel dropped on his head a second later.

Thorn starts in surprise as the fuzzy, feminine-smelling towel is dropped on his head. He paws at the thing for a moment, tossing it after his legion of shirts with a playful growl as he follows her up the stepladder bolted to the bunk a second later. There's a grin as he catches sight of the woman perched alluringly on the bed, and he dives in after her, wrapping her in his embrace and bringing his lips to hers forcefully once again… but not before quickly yanking the curtain shut behind him.

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