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Summary: Paperwork & discussion in the Head.
Date: PH 107 (03 Aug 2009)
Related Logs: After: House Rules but before: DH meeting.

CEC Kharon, Deck 1, Head
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #107
OOC Time: Mon Aug 03 17:19:28 2009

This is one of the busiest rooms on board the Kharon, despite this not being the only bathroom on board. Here, the crew comes to shower, relieve themselves, shave and wash up. People can be found wandering in and out no matter the hour of the day though its peak seems to fall around the shift changes. Save for the thick coats of gray non-slip paint across the floor, the whole room is done in stainless steel.

A long line of sinks and mirrors down the center effectively divide the room into two parts. To the Fore is a series of toilets, doors able to lock against intrusion on the occupants. On the Aft end of the room is a long maze of shower stalls which, like the toilets, have lockable doors with a verity of handholds and hooks. Each stall is just large enough to provide the users with enough space to bring their own toiletries and towel in with them and not soak everything.

The hatch swings open as it's shoved aside. In comes a marine in duty gear with a folder under her arm, and coffee in hand. One hand is left free to pull the hatch shut. She reaches over to set the mug down with a thunk as she passes the sinks, and she continues on to the stalls, shoving the folder between her teeth as she reaches down to undo the fasteners on her pants as she walks. She refrains from the pee pee dance. That would not be dignified.

The head's mostly empty at this hour. Shift change, and all that. Unless you count the pilot who's bellied up to one of the sinks, half in and half out of his flight suit as he slathers on pit stick. With a toothbrush clamped inside his mouth. Talk about multi-tasking. He keeps his eyes down, and doesn't bother looking up as the hatch opens and someone strides through.

Salazar kicks open a stall door, and makes her way inside. She kicks it closed again, and there's some shuffling around of clothing, the tink of a belt against the wall of the stall, and then silence. And more silence. She sits there, folder in mouth, waiting. Finally, she yells, "Could you frakkin' turn on the faucet or something?" Why is no one running water in here. It's the Head for craps sake.

So sad, too bad, Salazar. With one underarm down and the sleeve of his flight suit pulled on, the Captain starts on his other. "No can do, sweetheart," he mumbles around his toothbrush. If she manages to actually understand that, she deserves a medal. The last word, at least, shouldn't be too hard to figure out, given their history.

That tracks. Karim. And he's put on his asshole hat today. Salazar stands, tugs her pants up, fastens them with the least motion possible, and then kicks open the stall to make her way out. She shoves the folder under her arm, and makes her way over to stand beside the pilot. Her voice, when she speaks, is quiet. "Ok, Captain Panty Twist, do you think you could take a moment to verify Leda's alibi for the night of the blackout?" There's a lot of attitude flying back and forth, but it's kept low, at least on her side, to prevent any listening ears from overhearing.

Kai finishes with the second underarm, then twists so he can shove that hand through the sleeve of his flight suit as well. After a little wriggle, and a roll of his shoulders, he's got the thing mostly on. And finishes scrubbing his molars before spitting into the sink. This takes, in total, maybe thirty seconds. He doesn't look over at her. "Sure, if it's quick. Otherwise, you can submit a written request like everyone else." He resumes scrubbing.

"I'm in no hurry, Captain. I believe you're the one who requested Leda's release," Salazar remains standing there, hands clasped, folder under her arm. She just watches him, his profile, impassively. Seconds tick by. "Your call."

The toothbrush is shoved back in, followed by a steady shoosh shoosh shoosh. There's brittle tension in his hunched shoulders and back, though it's a bit less obvious now that they're clothed. His dark hair is wet, and matted to his skull in half-whorls; he must have showered not too long ago. There's a splat as he spits into the sink again. "And I already made it. Get your head out of your frakking ass and ask your godsdamned question." His lashes stay lowered. He still hasn't so much as glanced at her.

Salazar's hands slip free of one another. She slides the folder out from under her arm, opens it to the page with the alibi, and folds it back. She sets it on the edge of the sink with a light slap, and drops a pen on top of it. "Read and sign to verify to the best of your knowledge."

Kai takes his sweet time in finishing up with the toothbrush routine. Once he's well and truly done, he spits one last time and cranks on the faucet, leaning forward so he can cup water in his hands a few times. It's splashed over his face, and swished around in his mouth before it, too, is spit out. And then, after he's dried his face and hands off on his towel, he fetches the folder and skims over it silently.

Salazar resumes her stance, hands clasped loosely, this time behind her back. She is closer to him, almost against the edge of the sink. Her posture is an approximation of parade rest, relaxed without being relaxed. Her eyes study is profile. She's a quiet presence just inside the CAG's personal space. The tension in his shoulders, and the refusal to look at her seem to slide off of her. Appearances, of course, have been known to be deceiving.

The CAG reads a little slowly, truth be told. But as someone who lacks a facility for words, maybe it isn't too unexpected. He sniffs sharply, and drags the back of his hand over his nose midway through, divesting it of a trickle of water. His eyes flicker up about halfway, just enough to briefly rest upon Salazar's hip, then lower to the paper again. He reaches for the pen, flips it expertly between his fingers, and scrawls his signature at the bottom. The pen's tossed back atop the report before he begins dragging his towel through his hair.

She remains still, even as the edge of the towel flips past her shoulder and just misses smacking against her. Salazar reaches past him for the report, fingers grabbing onto the edge before she flips it up enough to spill the pen into her hand as well. She withdraws it.

Not so fast, girlie. As Salazar's hand begins to withdraw with the report, her wrist is caught, quite firmly. The grip's an inch away from painful. Kai opens his mouth to speakā€¦ and then shuts it again. For once, words seem to briefly fail him. He stares, brows furrowed, at the sink, and his hair drips steadily.

The folder is flipped closed, slid under her arm, and the pen is clicked and slid into a pocket. That, at least, was the intention. The play of things is always a little different. The pen and folder are held in a light grip which tightens with the closing of the CAG's fingers around her wrist. "You ready to tell me what crawled up your ass, died, and grew a frakkin' prickly bush?"

"When, precisely, were you planning on telling me you were promoted?" It takes a few seconds, and a few steadying breaths for him to get that out. Anger management, baby. He doesn't release her arm just yet, but at least he's graduated to meeting her eyes. There's a heat in his own that not too many people ever see.

"You can't see it, Karim, because I still have a stick of concealer left, and I am just that frakkin' hot, but I haven't slept since Sheridan handed me the pins in a blind side. My blood stream is full of coffee, and I really, really have to pee." The answer wasn't going to be simple, Salazar's responses are rarely, if ever, simple. She takes a breath, and opens her mouth to continue, "Between half the Corps shitting themselves because their S2 flipped the frak out and went Angel of Mercy on the highest ranking pilot in the place, and the civvie cop scrounged off the surface getting a mustang to the chair that isn't even cold yet." She steps closer, bodying up to him and his heated stare. She pushes when it gets hot. "What part of doing my job to clear out the brig as soon as possible and resolve our security breaches leaves time for me to run off and tell my boyfriend the Commander pinned me in the Ward Room?"

Kai is, once in a while, actually a pretty darned good listener. His deathgrip on Salazar's wrist even relaxes by fractions while she speaks, until, at some point, it's released entirely. His hand curls around the edge of the sink instead, and his eyes drift away from hers slightly in order to study the rest of her face. Maybe he did miss it. Maybe she's really good with that concealer. Or maybe she just is that frakking hot. Ok, so that's beside the point. "Right." The tip of his tongue slides fleetingly across his lower lip. "I'm sorry. I guess I've been.." Nope, no excuses. "I'm sorry." He makes another attempt at scrubbing his hair dry with the towel.

Let's everybody just ignore the fact that she said boyfriend, shall we? Moving right along. "While we're on the subject, go balls out on me on a security issue, and I'll be a dick." Moment of apology, so she had to slide it in there. Ok, no, no, she didn't have to slide that in there. It's the lack of sleep. "Gods, I want to push you up against a wall right now," she hisses, under her breath, as a crewman exits the hatch, and the corridor is exposed for a moment. It's the eyes, the set of his shoulders, and the way his tongue flicks over his lip just before he apologizes. The folder is shoved under her arm. Pen returned, finally, to the pocket.

Ignore? Not a chance in hell. It's quite possibly the reason Kai backed down so fast. He's probably still trying to process that word. "This conversation isn't finished. But it's going to wait until you're off duty, Salazar." How's that for vague and insinuating? His towel is shoved back into his duffle, fingers raked through half-damp almost-curls once more as if to verify he doesn't have any cowlicks, and then his eyes return to her squarely. "Yeah, I was out of line. And you were being a little shit. We're both running on too little sleep. I don't have a problem with the way you do your job. You're one of the finest soldiers I've known. And one of the most amazing women. You come and find me, when you're out of that uniform, if you need a reminder of that." He flickers a faint smile, but doesn't touch her again. Instead, he turns to switch on the faucet, before resuming the shoving of toiletries into his bag.

Vague and insinuating. Yep, check and check. "Little shit is my operating speed. It keeps things interesting." Salazar smoothes a hand over her uniform, and then resumes in a more official, conversational volume, "Thank you for your time, Captain." She turns and makes for the hatch, paperwork inked.

Kai ticks a lazy salute off with two fingers to his temple, as Salazar departs. It doesn't seem the type that he expects to be returned. The jingle of his dogtags being slung back on is probably the last thing she hears before she ducks out.

Castor may just get out of hack before he completely loses his shit. Assuming he ever had any. Salazar's half way back to her office before she realizes she forgot to use the facilities. "Gods damn it." She might have time to find the other one before the staff meeting. Maybe.

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