Stubborn and Contrary
Stubborn and Contrary
Summary: Komnenos finds Legacy in the tool room; the two take a moment to vent some of their frustrations.
Date: PHD125
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)
Players:
Komnenos..Legacy..

The Tool Room is quiet tonight. When isn't it? Off to one side, perched on a box, is Thea. Her hands are nice and dirty from where she's been cleaning tools. The grease looks fresh and she's fairly clean otherwise. She must have gotten here recently. To add to the allure, she's humming quietly under her breath.

There's a soft metallic clang at the front of the room, as Thorn enters quietly through the hatch. He stops in his tracks as he sees Thea sitting there. "Didn't know it was occupied," he says softly. "I'll find somewhere else." He lingers for a moment before turning to go out from whence he came.

Thea looks up at the sound of the clang, the humming ending, but then smiles. She reaches up to wipe the sweat from her cheek with the back of one hand. "No, it's ok, Thorn. Unless you wanted some alone time?" The last is, of course, a question - gently offered. "Feel free to come in and clean or sit, whatever. I won't assault your ears, promise."

Thorn shrugs in reply. "Not… particularly," he says with a wan smile. He pulls up a spare crate next to Legacy's and sits down. "You wouldn't worry about assaulting my ears if you'd ever heard my singing in th' shower." There's a look down at the collection of tools she's working on. "Got a spare cloth?"

She doesn't hesitate to pull one from the box behind her and toss it over to her companion. "I've made officers order me to stop singing before," Thea comments with a sidelong grin. "Had bunkmates bribe me, too."

The cloth is caught handily, and Komnenos reaches for a greasy spanner. "Actually had a decent singing voice, once, the accent aside. Of course, then I started smoking." He shakes his head slightly. "Does wonders for one's singing voice, it does not." He returns her grin with one of his own. "Never seemed t' discourage me, though."

"I've been tempted to take smoking up," she says with a quiet sigh, going for a wrench and concentrating on that. "Maybe that'd help my singing voice, do you think?" Another sidelong grin as she puts the elbow grease to the tool.

Thorn's head tilts to one side. "Maybe. If you wanted t' sing heavy metal, at least," he replies, following that with an actually rather good approximation of a metal singer's death growl. He cleans with the practiced ease of someone who grew up around farms and garages, oblivious to the streaks of grime appearing on his hands.

Legacy laughs quietly and shakes her head. Yes, she actually remembers how to laugh and smile. "I don't think I can handle the growl," she murmurs. "Maybe I'll just give up singing and smoke. Seems safer for everyone."

Thorn snorts in reply at that. "Normally I'd recommend against it, but it's not like we're all likely t' live long enough t' have t' worry about lung cancer." He stares downward, eyes fixated on the dirty spanner as he works.

Thea dips her head, studying her tool of choice. "You're right," she says quietly. "We probably won't. But damned if I'm going to let them get the better of me and the way I want to live my life." Stubborn. That's a characteristic Thea's known for. Given the way her chin comes up slightly, she's in a stubborn mood.

"Frak their opinion," Thorn says roughly. "Who cares what anyone else thinks? If it doesn't break the rules, doesn't hurt anyone else… it's none of anyone else's frakkin' business, an' they can shove their opinions…" Thorn trails off as his tone starts to get animated. Stubborn, meet contrary. He shakes his head, tossing down the now-clean spanner and picking up another tool at random.

Thorn gets studied from the corner of Thea's eye as she works. "Yeah," she says, gently egging him on. "Who the frak cares? What happens with a consenting adult happens. We're all adults on this ship, except for the one kid. We're all grown ups and we all know our own minds." She slows down, digging into the cracks of the wrench.

It's a pair of lineman's pliers that he picks up next, a detached corner of Thorn's mind notes. "Some people aren't happy unless they're walking all over somebody else," he growls. "Easier for that type of person t' frak with others than deal with their own pathetic little lives."

"Bastards," Thea agrees as she works, dipping her head. "Absolute frakking assholes. I mean, what can you do with a person like that? Really?" Her tool gets put aside as she reaches for a long, flat disc with holes in it. Who the hell knows what THAT'S used for.

"Space 'em?" Thorn suggests drolly. The earlier mention of cigarettes only stokes his craving, and he puts the pliers aside long enough to grab his pack with a grease-stained hand and light one. He exhales through his nose, and returns to his scrubbing.

"Mmmmm. Definitely a good idea. No muss, no fuss," she comments, tone just as dry as his. "Of course, depends on who's on the top of your list." One hand reaches out, two fingers separated slightly. "Share."

Thorn pauses mid-wipe, blinking in surprise. "Well… the Cylons already took care of just about everyone I can think of that I'd REALLY want t' space," he replies, hedging around the question. "You mean… on this ship?"

Without preamble, Thea leans over, reaches out and plucks the cigarette from his fingertips, bringing it to her lips with practiced ease. She takes a long draw before holding it back out to him again. "Mmm hmmm," she nods.

Thea's full of surprises today, it seems. Thorn's almost too busy staring at her with a raised brow to remember to actually take the cigarette back, but he does after a moment, taking another drag of his own. "Well… I'd start with that narcissistic prick Nikolo, the Viper stick," he growls. "I don't care that he helped out down on Scorpia. I don't trust a pilot that hits on Marines — Marines!— in the middle of a firefight."

Thea chuckles softly and turns her head, blowing the smoke off to one side, away from Thorn. Yeah, she's done this before. "Right now," she says quietly, going back to her tool. "Knowing that it could change any day? It'd be a tossup between Marek and Hale. Though I considered tossing myself out. I think if I could have figured out how to do it without anyone know, I would have done it awhile back." Well, at least she's being honest. "I'm past that now," she says, after a moment, glancing up at him with a wry smile. "Promise."

Komnenos chuckles in response. "T' be honest, Marek was a close second on my list… first on some days." He says nothing about Hale, though, the ebullient Leonan pilot being a good friend and all. His face sobers slightly at the mention of throwing herself out, and he pauses for a moment. "Hope so," he settles on muttering, finally.

Thea reaches out for the cigarette again, plucking it lightly from his fingers. Personal space? Boundaries? Apparently they don't exist here in the tool room. "I wish I could defend Marek," she says softly, eyes distant as she draws in a deep lungful of smoke. It's slowly released, sounding almost like a sigh. "Or Hale. But it's not their fault I humiliated myself." Her smile is absent as she hands the cigarette back. "Who else is on your list, anyone?"

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as t' call being a naive twit a spaceable offense, so that keeps Leda off the list," Thorn replies drolly. "Although I'd consider putting the chaplains on there just on general principle." About humiliation, the ECO says nothing. This time he takes Thea's abduction of his cigarette in stride; when he gets it back, he perches it on his lips for a moment as he tosses down the pliers and picks up something else — a pipe wrench, this time.

The Captain goes back to work on the disk she picked up, shaking her head. "Leda's…a puppy," she says after a moment. "Very sweet, but he sometimes has trouble putting the breaks on. I liked Ajax," she murmurs, voice going low. "Haven't gotten to know this current priestess. Prophet was a good sort, if a bit light in the loafers."

Thorn sighs, shaking his head slightly. "I shouldn't say that," he says reluctantly. "I didn't know the first two, but I've met Ms. Adelphi, and she seems a nice enough sort. Besides, Stathis would be most unhappy with me if I spaced her."

There's a quiet sigh at that. "This is where I stick my fingers in my ears and start singing La La La very loudly," Thea murmurs. "Given that she's not yet been promoted to officer and is still an enlisted."

"Frak," Thorn says with a wince. "I mean… I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't say anything." He scowls at himself; he's not usually given to careless slips like that.

"I already know, Thorn," she reassures him softly, reaching out to snag the cigarette right from his lips. "But if I pretend I don't, I don't have to nail his ass to the wall. If he lets the CAG find out, however, I'm beyond screwed. So." Her eyes close for a moment as she inhales, seeming to enjoy the taste, the feel of the cancer stick. Her head tilts back, almost as if she's lifting her face to the sun.

"I hope he can keep his bloody mouth shut for the next two weeks, then, the lucky bastard," he mutters quietly as he works on the pipe wrench. "For both your sakes, then, I'll keep it quiet."

"Two weeks, huh," Thea asks quietly, dipping her head. The cigarette is passed back again, as close to a nub as it's coming. "If it's already in the works for her, then there probably won't be too much grumbling. But discretion is necessary, nonetheless." She continues to work, picking up the pace slightly. "I'm glad for both of them." Yet, there's something she tries to keep out of her voice, but it sneaks in nonetheless.

"Timon with a girlfriend. Hnh. Surprised he didn't find some way t' frak it up." There's a mix of emotions in his tone at that; he obviously sounds happy for his friend, despite trying not to seem so, but there's also something else… wistfulness, almost, in his voice. Thorn examines what's left of the cigarette as she passes it back; he takes a last powerdrag or two before getting rid of it.

Legacy laughs softly, though it's without humor. "Give it time," she murmurs softly. "But I think he's going to do just fine. I'm glad smeone's happy, at least." Yes, there's an answering note in her own voice. "It all comes with time and patience."

"All the time and patience is the world doesn't matter if you're 'dense as th' outer frakkin' bulkhead'," he retorts sarcastically, the quotes audible in his voice as he hunches over, head pointed down and arms resting on his legs as he wipes the last few traces of grease off the wrench. It doesn't seem to be Timon he's speaking of any longer.

One hand reaches out, fingers brushing his sleeve. They don't go further and retraced as soon as they're spotted. It was a simple gesture. "What's on your mind," she asks softly, going back to her work giving him his space.

Thorn is silent for a long moment as he reaches for another tool, scrubbing at it with relentless abandon. His eyes stay glued to the thing, a brief look over at Thea the only thing breaking his pace. "I…" He trails off, shaking his head.

"Spit it out," she says softly and quietly. "In here…in here it's just the tool room and a cigarette," she says with a faint little half-smile. "Or not. It's ok just to work, to tell me to mind my own business."

"No, it's fine," Thorn replies. "Bottling it up doesn't help." He straightens, putting the whatever-it-is he's cleaning off to one side. "I mean, it's not as though you haven't noticed Case and I dancing around each other lately, anyway." He smiles weakly at that. "We came back from CAP the other night, talking about maybe doing something afterwards. She said something, I took it th' wrong way, we started screaming at each other, and then we had a contest t' see who could storm away from each other the fastest." He sighs. "I'm an idiot."

Thea simply nods, face giving nothing away. "Why do you feel like an idiot," she asks quietly, scrubbing at the disk until she's sure the thing's clean. It's put aside and another tool carefully chosen.

Another shrug. "Well, it's true," he replies, a bit defensively. "First, I proposition my CO in the middle of a war zone, when any idiot could've realized that couldn't have ended well." He shoots a guilty look over at Thea before continuing. "Then, I manage t' frak things up with a woman who's attracted t' me because… well, because I am dense as a frakkin' bulkhead." Thorn shakes his head. "Pretty frakkin' humiliating."

Her lips curl a little at one corner and she shrugs delicately. "It's life, Thorn," she says quietly. "Seriously. It's life. We all make mistakes. We all do things we regret. The secret is to learn from the mistakes and keep going. If we look back, if we keep wondering, we're doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again."

"You're right, of course." The admission doesn't seem to improve his mood, though. "I just hate how I manage t' get myself into those situations t' begin with, and as stubborn as I can be, it can take a few times of making th' same mistake t' actually get it through my head." Thorn sighs. "Wish I knew what t' say t' her. I keep feeling like I've frakked things up for good, y' know?"

And Thorn is telling this to the woman who's had her heart broken, stepped on and been utterly forgotten in the past four months. "You probably need to tell her just what you're telling me," the older woman advises quietly. "Be straight and open with her about how and what you're feeling and why you think you might have screwed things up. Don't just walk away. Don't just let things lie. You're too good a man for that."

Komnenos snorts. "You make it sound so sensible," he says lightly. "Frak, you're right." Again. He tilts his head, taking out another cigarette before offering the pack to Thea. "The 'open' part has always been a little tough t' master, though." Thorn smiles sardonically.

She holds up a hand and shakes her head, smiling a bit. "Thanks but no," she demures, getting into the cracks and crevices of the tool. "It can be, yes. Sometimes it's hard to find the right balance. If you're too open, you end up hurt. If you're not open enough, you end up hurt. It just takes practice." Thea flips the cloth around, using a clean part to dig deep.

Thorn shrugs noncommittally at Thea's refusal, pocketing the pack of cigarettes and bringing out his lighter. The cancer stick is lit, and Komnenos goes back to work. "If I'm t' be hurt, I think at this point I'd rather be too open about it… I've had way too much practice with the other way around."

Thea dips her head slightly to that. "Just…be careful," she says, voice going quiet, losing that momma cat edge. "Hurt is hurt, no matter how open or closed it is. Keep something back for yourself, until you're sure."

"Yeah," Thorn replies with a quiet nod. "I know. At this point, though, I'm not sure it could get much worse." His eyebrow quirks slightly. "I mean, it's not like we're actually together. She hasn't had a chance t' really rip my heart out and stomp on it, yet."

"Do you want to give her that chance," Thea asks, finally looking up at him, head tilted to the side a bit. "Is that something you're willing to engage in? A risk you're willing to take?" Yes, she's asking a man who flies around in a tincan whether or not he's willing to take a risk.

That question is enough to give Anton pause. A long pause, actually. He puts the tool aside, puffing thoughtfully on his cigarette, his mind whirling. Finally, he looks over at Thea, a somber expression on his face. "Yes," he says simply. "It is." There's no justifications, no excuses, just simple affirmation.

For a moment, just a moment, she was still. And then she nods, once, turning back to her work. "Then you have your answer and the path you need to take," she tells him, voice low and quiet. "Sometimes it is just that easy."

Thorn looks back down to the tool he was working on, putting it back with the others as he realizes it's clean. He's nodding slowly, but says nothing, hunching over and resting his elbows on his knees, deep in thought.

And Thea leaves him alone with his thoughts, working next to him in companionable silence. It's a comfortable silence, not at all awkward, at least not on her part. She's relaxed and has tools to clean.

Thorn stifles a yawn as he picks up something else, another spanner of some kind. His features have calmed now; much of that tension and apprehension that was evident on his face when he came in now faded. Sitting comfortably alongside Thea, he too settles into an amiable silence, finally with nothing on his mind but the work in front of him.

She glances over after a moment, smiling a bit, then slides over another wrench, this one a little larger. Looks like his next project is ready. She doesn't tell him to go to bed and get rest, she simply sits with him as they work.

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