Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving
Summary: Roubani visits Dutch in recovery. Surprisingly, they get along.
Date: PHD063
Related Logs: Periander Recon
Players:
Dutch..Roubani..Epi..

Kharon Sickbay - Recovery Ward

Dutch has been in recovery since the previous night. Going in and out of sleep, but could you blame him? He had two bullets dug out of him. one in his off arm, and the other in his chest. Head's wrapped,but that was a deep gash and nothing more. Quiet, but alert Sergeant Elder, is left with one hand holding a book. Reading-or trying to read a magazine, but by the looks of it, he's mainly just staring.

Roubani knows this area of sickbay well, navigating through the lobby and into recovery without needing to stop to ask after where to go. In his duty fatigues, keys and small tool collections and gods know what else are partly silenced from their usual jangling by his hand politely closed around them. The right arm is in its sling, mindful as he is of medical personnel getting irritated with him. He makes his way down the rows of beds until he comes up on Dutch's, steps pausing down by the foot of the thing.

Dutch barely lowers the Magazine. Not like he had it up much to begin with. Eyes peer back up towards the Snipe/Ensign at the edge of his bed, and one brow raises, and finally the magazine is simply dropped, before he's moving to prop himself with some effort. "Sir.." comes Dutch's voice. Tired, but at least its not his usual scowl and growl that is given up. "You got gum?" As smoking ain't too readily allowed in here.

Gum. Roubani hesitates, spending a moment thinking about that as he pats his front pocket. One brow lifts, which is slightly comical considering half it was singed off in the recent fire. "I've got…" He glances down and draws his fingers back out of said pocket, cellophane crinkling. "…hard candies. If you like."

"Chocolate bar?" a shake of his head shows that the Corpsman is just pushing, but his one hand comes out for whatever can be passed over. "Thanks Ensign.." comes Dutch's words softly. Ain't a cigar or cigarettes, but it will do, give him something to do and fuss over. "What, can I help you with sir?" the marine finally asks

"Butterscotch," Roubani answers, after a check of the wrapper colour. He's got two of them, both of which he sets in the Marine's hand without touching his skin. Hand withdrawn, it's slid into his pocket. "Nothing. I just…wanted to thank you."

Dutch takes in the the candies, one sat on his chest while the other is unwrapped and plopped back into his mouth. Quiet, save for the soft clacking of the hard candy against his teeth- light sucking sound, before the , disc is pressed against his left cheek. A slight look of, well surprise. "Thank me sir?" Apparently, the marine didn't expect thanks coming from this past mission.

A corner of Roubani's mouth twitches. "Well. I should say had we been attacked by the broad sides of barns I still likely wouldn't have hit anything." He clears his throat softly. "I realise it was your duty, but you have my gratitude nevertheless."

"I don't spect- you engineering types get much use for your pistols, sir." Said with a slight half smiles, before Dutch is chewing and sucking on that bit of hard candy. "Beg your pardon sir, thanks…Don't take me bein' stunned as bein ungrateful. Just.." and Elder shrugs with his good arm. "Ain't used to being thanked."

"I flew vipers until a few weeks ago," Roubani says quietly. Which sparks a brief, wry smirk right after. "Which I suppose doesn't change anything." He shakes his head as to the explanation, looking down at Dutch's magazine. "It's alright. May I ask your name?"

There's a blink and yes another look of disbelief "You did?" Apparently Dutch has never seen the man in a flightsuit before. A shake of his head "You don't act like one." A chuckle for a moment before he shakes his head "Naw, spect it don't.." You ask for his name and he simply replies "Dutch, is what I am called sir. Sergeant Dutch Elder.." though one could easily surmise-Dutch is not his real first name. The magazine itself is some that had been brought in from the waiting room- A boating deal. Rich person's read.

"So I'm told," Roubani replies, as to his behaviour. The immobile right arm probably provides its own explanation as why he's in fatigues and not a flightsuit. He nods to the name and tips his chin towards the magazine. "Are you a boater, Sergeant? Or would you care for some other reading material?"

"I've sat in a small prop boat in th' middle of a lake fishing.."Dutch answers, but you can easily guess, that he is not anything close to being a boater. "If you can find somethin' on hunting or fishing…Sports I'll read it. Or a good book. Just need something I can keep my mind busy till they release me tuesday.." The Sergeant clacks again noisily. "What happened to your arm?"

"I may know where to get something on fishing…" Roubani muses, mostly for his own benefit. He has a naturally soft voice, the type that shouldn't carry but somehow does. "We were ambushed by raiders while we were looking into a stray buoy. I didn't avoid enough of them."

"I'd rightly appreciate it, sir." says Dutch with a grin there, before he's picking at the second candy. "Ah." said back before he is nodding and plopping the butterscotch bite before he's taking time to chew and suck again. Yup seems Dutch likes these things.."Frakking sucks..So you're working engineering right?"

"Yes." Roubani makes a motion with his head, a slight incline. "We do what we can…where we can." He glances at whatever of Dutch's bandages may be visible, then back at his face. "Is there anything else that might make the time go faster for you?"

"You like that?" asked for a second as Elder sits up a little further more in his bed. eyes close teeth flash in the movement and he is shaking his head for a second. After all this he is used to. "Yeah, though I don't know what I'd do if I wasn't a marine.." a grimace of a smile there before he is shaking his head "Naw, Ensign-good reading will help since I can't smoke." Dutch coughs for a second. "Don't ever get shot in the chest ensign, its a bitch."

"Like, dislike, and whatever is in between are irrelevant, Sergeant," Roubani says, quietly and resolutely. He nods to the reading thing, then lofts a brow slightly. His lips twitch. "I'm going to do my best to avoid that. If you don't mind my stating the obvious, it looks painful."

"Just cause its the end of the godsdamned world, Sir, don't mean you can't hate your job an think your boss is a pussyfootin sonuvabitch." A chuckle from Dutch shows, how relaxed, and perhaps rural the Sergeant exactly is. A look back to Roubani as he continues to demolish the candy in his mouth. "Quite." a wince "Coughin' th' worst part."

The swearing doesn't quite make Roubani uncomfortable, per se, as it causes his eyes to politely flicker away for a second before returning. He gives the tip of his nose a light scratch with his pinky. "I should hope that my boss isn't one," he remarks, affording the marine a fleeting smirk. "Being as you're eating her candy right now." Whether he's serious or not is impossible to tell. He nods slowly after that. "Do they feel you'll be away from duty for very long?"

"Same, or we're all frakked when we need to jump or shit starts frakking off here. We'd all die cold and lonely quicker that way." Dutch is honest for what he is. "Ah." a chuckle and he nods 'Well, if you don't tell, won't say who my supplier was." It seems despite Roubani having been a pilot, the marine is able to 'get along with him.' "Usually I am more piss an vineager than this..Drugs doin' th' body good.." he mumbles as finally he's tossing the boating magazine on his bedside. "I'm here till Tuesday, then will probably be light duty till the end of the week.."

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

A corner of Roubani's mouth turns, making a faint half-smile that then fades back away. "The morpha is…potent," he comments, with that tone that only one's who's experienced it can have. "I recommend avoiding all conversations about habaneros." A pause, then he says, gravely, "Don't ask."

"Habernab.." and a blink before Elder's scowling softly for a second "Like in the peppers?" yeah he won't ask. And so the young man shrugs. How funny despite his age he carries himself as a forty year old man. "You wanna fly again?"

The door to the recovery ward opens and in bounces a short corporal in her off-duties, whistling as she comes. She's got magazines in one arm, two or three if the size of the stack is a good indication.

Again with the likes and wants. Roubani lifts his chin, head tilting slightly. "I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it, for the most part," he replies softly. "I wouldn't turn my back on it if fate gave me a reprieve." He glances over Dutch's face, a face that's probably very close in age to his own if not the same. "How long have you been in the service?" He's standing right by Dutch's bed, in fatigues and his arm sling. Dutch is cracking some kind of candy in his mouth.

"Hm.." comes Dutch's own reply "Since I was nineteen I think." A nod there "Got in after my father had an accident at work." And he leaves it there, won't go further than that, even with the mild mannered Ensign, to whom yes-Dutch is being quite civil with. Someone better record this for prosperity. "Basic was a piece of cake."

Epi pauses at seeing someone at Dutch's bedside, emotions clearly written on her face. She's conflicted. He's got company, good. He's got company, bad. Her lower lip pushes out in a small pout, but rather than interrupt, she makes her way to the other side of the room and settles in to wait.

Roubani smiles slightly. "No doubt it was more taxing than mine." His eyes flicker up, noting movement and the corporal lurking. Recognition, of course, and he nods slightly to acknowledge her presence over there. "I believe you have further company."

Dutch glances as he catches sight of Epi for a second, but his eyes are basically lulling back to the Ensign as words help to pull him out of where ever his mind has wandered off to. "They call it hell week. Not vacation, sir." a grin there and he nods, a glance back to the little woman. "Ahh, that's Corporal Epiphany.." And his scrunches his face up for a moment. "Jarot..She's a good un.."

Epi curls up on her purloined bunk, indian style. She looks so innocent and sweet, like someone's kid sister come to visit. Of course, she's also reading magazines like "Guns and Ammo" and "Caprican Cuties," but hey. No one's perfect.

Roubani nods slightly. "We've met," he says, as to the corporal. He then hesitates, for having a line waiting on him to bugger off is rather awkward. "Yes, well. She seems unwilling to come by, so I should probably leave you be. I'll see what I can do about the reading. Or at least more butterscotch."

Dutch nods back before he's looking towards the magazines and more or less Epi there. A frown forming before he's looking on back towards Roubani "Oh Nonsense, kiddo. You're fine." Yeash that's an honest to goodness smile there. "I am glad you came in though, Ensign. Don't get many thanks from your types…When we hear em..it means a lot." A click of his tongue. " Please do- I'll go crazy in here..Know it."

Epi's head pops up, as if she's sensing movement. Or maybe it's weakness her type goes for. Yes, she has the Caprican Cuties magazine tipped upward so she can see the centerfold. Not like anyone reads them for the articles, after all. Eyes bounce back and forth between the two men, somewhat hopefully.

"Thanks, Dad," Roubani replies, drily but with no real bite. It dissipates right after. "You're welcome, Sergeant." He clears his throat and looks up, nodding once to Epi.

Dutch chuckles all the same before he's nodding back to the Ensign. "I sound like I'm frakking forty, I know." He's been told on numerous occasions that he is in fact too old for his age. Something that Roubani might get to figure out once he gets to know the Marine further. If he does.

Up off the bunk Epi hops, gathering up the magazines, a bright smile on her face. "Thanks Ensign," she tells Roubani. "Got your socks in a knot again?" Ahhh, it's the innocent questions that come as a young woman is bounding over to the bedside of an ancient medic. Epi makes her way to Dutch's good side and hits him in the shoulder. "I'm still mad at you, you frakking cow sucker."

"My socks are quite content, Corporal, thank you kindly," Roubani tells Epi. He slides his hand into his pocket, taking a shifting step back from Dutch's bed. "Take heart, Sergeant. If nothing else, your hairline's got a ways to go before it catches up." He gives Dutch a mild half-smile, then nods to them both. "If you'll both excuse me, I've got to get ready for duty."

Dutch chuckles back from Epi over towards Roubani. Unsure what the sock talk is about, but then he could be completely dreaming that up, or so he's going to say. "Ell that's good. Needed a shave anyways." And so Elder remains lighthearted for a second. "See you Ensign."

"Night, Sir," Epi calls after Roubani, then eyes Dutch, putting the magazines down on the side table so she can plant her hands on her hips. "Do we have to get you the same tramp stamp we're getting Swift," she demands, studying him. "Sergeant Dutch Elder, how COULD you?"

Roubani picked a good time to leave. Marinespat (tm) behind him, the Ensign's headed off with that sense of purpose that long legs always seem to give someone, whether it's real or not. Exeunt stage left, off to another part of sickbay.

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