What's The Rush?
What's The Rush?
Summary: Samantha and Komnenos discuss the future. Then, their private moment is interrupted in an act of epic trolling.
Date: PHD148 (September 13, 2009)
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)

Samantha steps into the room, after him, looking around at their moment of stolen privacy. She gives him a half smile. "Hey, handsome. Congratulations… commendation in front of the whole crew. Big mission coming out… Damn fine showing you gave." And, if he permits her, she reaches up, not quite pulling him into the same hug as Willem. No, this one has a lot more lip action to it. And perhaps even a bit of tongue.

"I don't know about a damn fine showing, but… thanks." If Thorn was going to say anything after that, it's cut off as Samantha's lips bear down on his. His arms wrap gently around her back as he returns the kiss. There's noticeable tension in his frame, but it ebbs somewhat at the feel of her embrace.

Samantha keeps that kiss there long, deep… Slow. It's not broken for a good minute before she finally settles back onto her heels, instead of the balls of her feet. "…You…you okay, handsome?" She inquires gently, feeling the tension, even as he's relaxing.

A hand runs through Samantha's hair as the kiss continues, finally falling back to his side as the two break apart. "It's nothing, I'm…" Thorn cuts himself off with a sigh. "Alright, look. I'm not trying t' cause a stink, so I'll ask y' not t' go repeating this, but… I got passed over for promotion." He shrugs.

Samantha had a sinking feeling he was gonna say that. Sam frowns a bit, concern crossing her features, and possibly a bit of guilt. Was she a part of a reason why? She stares gently, stroking her fingertips up and down his shoulders, trying to consider any sort of response…"Next time… Anton… I don't understand it… but next time…"

Thorn shrugs again. "Whatever. At first I was angry, but… whatever." The throaty edge in his voice seems to indicate he might not really be quite so blase about it as his words would indicate, but he's trying to keep a good face on. "Marek explained why th' other night. I understand his reasoning, after a fashion. What I'm not sure I understand, though, is why my own CO told him she doesn't think I'm 'leadership material'." He sneers. "So much for all that bloody 'You are a future leader, Thorn' garbage."

Samantha frowns a hint deeper, worry in her eyes. She draws him over towards the back corner of the room before she tries to grasp him to settle down on the floor with her. "She's…upset with all of us…about everything that happened, Anton. And I'm…I'm sorry. Sorry if I…frakked your career… you can push through it. Beyond it… next time you'll be there…."

"Don't apologize. It won't change anything… besides, you weren't in th' game room telling Martin t' punch me or telling me t' hit him back. What happened, happened. Can't change it now." He slides down onto the floor next to her. "That was th' reason Marek gave me, anyway. The fight. He said, 'can't condone officers fighting over a woman like recruits who haven't seen leave in five months', or something like that." Thorn snorts. "Can't argue with that, as much as I'd like t'. But Legacy… Legacy I can't figure. Tell me if y' think I'm wrong, but it seems like she's taking this personally, somehow."

Samantha wraps her arm around his shoulders, so she tugs him to rest against that juncture between her shoulder/chest, providing a nice little pillow if he'll curl up with her there. "…Maybe she was hot for you. Who knows. But…if you truly think she's taking it personally, t hat is something you need to bring up with the CAG. That is going beyond the professional issues of fighting another officer."

Thorn's lips quirk slightly at the role reversal, but he simply nestles his head contentedly into the crook of her shoulder, looking up at her as she speaks. "She turned me down, Sam, once upon a time. If indeed she was, or is, she made th' point herself it wouldn't have worked anyway. Chain of command. Though…" Thorn trails off, his eyes suddenly going distant. His head shakes slightly, perplexed. "Marek said th' same thing you just did," he says, moving on. "But… I don't have enough t' go t' the CAG with. Only vague suspicions. I could be wrong. Hells, I hope I'm wrong."

Samantha shrugs slightly, "Just tell him your thoughts. Sounds like you already mighta, though…" She admits, turning her head down to kiss against his hair, as reassuringly as possible, her fingertips still trailing a few lazy lines up and down his arm…

There's a tingle down Thorn's spine as Samantha kisses at the top of his head. "Yeah," he says with a short sigh. "Told him my basic impression, anyway. He told me t' talk t' him if there were any further problems." His hand reaches over to take hers, interlocking their fingers. "Like I said, though, I don't want t' have t' do that." His head tilts slightly in its perch on Sam's shoulder. "An' besides, in the larger scheme of things… I doubt I'll live long enough t' really have t' worry about th' potential consequences for my career."

Samantha gives his stomach a good, teasing elbow, but it might be just a -bit- hard, there definitely a moment of anger and worry in her face and body as he says that. "Don't you -dare- think like that, Anton. Yeah…chances are… we're all gonna go out someway…sometime soon. But we can't frakking THINK like that…or it will happen. Frak…I lo… care… for you too much… to think about that."

Thorn wheezes softly in surprise as Sam's elbow catches him off guard. "Believe me, I go out there every time with every intention of coming back. But I'd be a fool not t' recognize th' possibility." His eyes look back up into hers with a hint of quiet surprise, as though he belatedly caught what she almost said. "I'll not speak of it again, though, if it makes y' feel better," he murmurs.

Samantha stares back into his eyes, and it's clear she's concerned. "…You can't think about it, Anton. The moment you start thinking it it means… frak…it means you've -accepted- it. That it might happen. That's one step closer to failing. YOu just gotta keep fighting, and constantly fighting, like you know there is no other choice. Because really, there isn't. You think I woulda survived Scorpia if I thought 'Oh, well…I'll probably die soon another day anyway'…"

"All right, all right, I promise," he mumbles, his accent thickening ever so slightly. "No more of that, then." His lips curl in a tiny smile. "Always did get a kick out of th' mental image of me flipping Hades th' bird, anyway." A hand runs reassuringly up and down her leg.

Samantha studies his eyes a bit deeper, looking…searching, making certain he seems utterly honest. "Good. We're gonna live to a long, old age and bounce Rebound and Persy's kids on our knees, right?" She affirms one last time, half smiling..

"Hnh." Thorn snorts, but there's a smile on his face as he does it. "I don't know about that… I don't much care for other people's kids. But yeah, the long old age part does sound rather nice." Another smile cracks his solemn features.

Samantha looks up to him, grinning, mostly teasing, "And what about your own kids?" It just slips out and then, a second later, her brain catches up to her mouth and her eyes shoot just a bit wide. She actually blushes. "Uh…I didn't mean… you know… back track that… Never said it. Rewind. Forgotten…"

Anton grins. "Don't get too far ahead of y'rself, there." He removes his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, taking out one for each of them and offering her a light. There's a slight tinge to his face at the mention of children, though. "Yeah. Forget about it."

Samantha laughs a bit, still blushing, just a hint, half embarrassed. "I'd be a terrifying mom. And do you KNOW how long I've worked on these abs? Frak no…" And that is the end of -that- conversation. Still, she leans up, taking the cigarette from his fingertips with her lips, more than a bit suggestive, and she smiles a bit wider. "But yeah. Back tracking. Old age is good. Lets live long enough to annoy each other and put superglue on our dentures."

Still smiling, Thorn lights his own cigarette after hers. "I don't know, I can be pretty annoying," he says wryly as he expels a smoke ring from his lips. "Careful what y' wish for." He winks.

Samantha leans into the light, breathing deeply and relaxing just a bit as the taste alone hits her lips. feels far nicer than anything else, really. She's damn addicted, this much is clear. Going to be a sad day when the tobacco runs out. "Nah… we're… for all the bad beginnings… not half bad as this couple thing goes. Maybe we're doin' something right…"

"I hope so," Thorn says seriously, his eyes again making contact with hers. After a moment, he smiles. "I'd say early indications are good, though." Wisps of smoke curl around them briefly before dissipating, and he reaches out again to take her hand, a meaningful look on his face.

Samantha wraps her slightly smaller fingertips around his, giving the gentlest of little squeezes, happily letting their palms knit together there between them. She takes another breath of his cigarette. "…Cubit for your thoughts?" She asks softly, a heartbeat later.

"Hnh." Thorn utters a little sound, puffing on his cigarette for a long moment before replying. "I don't know. You… for a moment, y' got me t' thinking about th' future. For you and me, I mean." He shrugs lightly. "I'm probably getting ahead of myself, though… shouldn't be worrying about anything but th' now."

Samantha tilts her heaad, her teasing little smile growing just a bit more serious, concerned, but also curious. "…Talk to me. What… what were you thinking? Don't care if it's a worry. we should be -talking- about these things…if we're gonna actually… make it through this. Open and honest, right?"

Anton clears his throat. "Look, I just don't want t' get ahead of ourselves, y' know?" He takes another pull off the cigarette. "Yeah, there are things we should be able t' talk about, I agree, but… we've got th' time, don't we?" There's a slight shake of the head. "I don't know. On one hand, I can't see myself wanting t' be with anyone else. But… I don't know if we've been together long enough yet t' start talking about all the real serious shit." Thorn sighs. "But then, this whole end of the world thing sorta fraks with what th' normal timetable might be." A weak smile crosses his lips. "I told you before, I think too much."

Samantha squeezes his hand a bit tighter…"Sokay. Sometimes I don't think enough. It balances out in the end. Just… talk to me. Ain't gonna send me running, I promise, just for thinkin'. I…I like to listen. Nice to date a smart guy for once. Maybe I'll learn too." She winks, only half flirting, as if his intelligence could rub off onto her through…Osmosis. Or something.

"I just don't want t' lose you, y' know?" Thorn replies quietly, his features somber. "I want t' make sure t' take the time t' do it right." There's another puff on the cigarette. "I just… I hear about Willem an' Persy tying th' knot, and it makes me wonder." He hesitates. "Probably said too much, now."

Samantha lofts both brows now, not exactly offended or running away, but sure as hell surprised he'd go anywhere -near- that subject at the moment. She stares up to his handsome, younger features…"No… makes ya wonder what? Go on… I ain't movin'. You aren't gonna lose me cause of words, Anton. The only reason Martin and I frakked up was because of… lacking words. I never saw him, we never talked… I barely knew him… and the gods came between Ajax and I…so…words sure as hell aren't my issue. Start talking." She watches him curiously, eyes unwavering.

Thorn shakes his head, his features tightening. "I told you, it's way too early for that sort of talk," he says roughly. "Just forget I even mentioned it, all right?" He straightens, scowling at himself in annoyance. "Look, I'm not going anywhere. We're going t' figure this thing out. But I… I don't want t' rush anything." His arms fold over his chest. "Frak, we haven't even dropped th' l-bomb yet," he mutters softly to himself.

Not yet, but damn if Sam didn't almost about 10 minutes ago, still slightly boggling her mind. "Frak, we haven't even -frakked- yet. I don't think we're rushing -anything-…" Even if she's getting some metaphorical blue balls, just a hint of tight want to her voice that she's been trying to swallow back for most of this. She can take it slow, she keeps telling herself…

Thorn stays quiet for a long moment, though his features begin to soften as he looks over at her, a hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. Did he catch something there? Maybe. His fingers caress her cheek as the hair is brushed aside, but for the moment he's silent, just watching her.

Samantha looks up to him, just… here, for the moment. Open, honest, trying to be as calm as possible even as a whole array of emotions betray themselves through her too earnest eyes. Her head tilts, just a bit, into that brush of his fingertips as he tucks away some sloppily falling free dirty blonde hair.

"Oh, frak this," Thorn whispers fiercely to himself. Before Samantha can get the wrong idea, though, Anton suddenly darts forward, his lips going for hers. A hand snakes out, drawing her in close to him as lips meet in a deep, urgent kiss. There's a hiss of breath through his nose at the contact, and his hand runs up her back as he pulls her in.

Yes, Samantha and Komnenos were at the air wing meeting. They were seen leaving the ready room, and then pretty much disappeared. Now, a good hour and change later, the tool room isn't completely unoccupied. Apparently, they weren't doing anything -horribly- untowards, as most clothing is still on, but the kiss they're locked in is quiet, quiet… Passionate. Seemingly Thorn initiated, Sam's been pulled in tight by his arms, but now her arms are wrapping around his back and the femme viper pilot is more than enjoying the unexpected lip lock, breathless and flushing.

There's a bit of fumbling and rustling as the hatch to the Tool Room swings open and in through the yawning portal steps Willem. He's rummaging inside the satchel over his shoulder for something as he cautiously treads further inside. Apparently HE IS NOT ALONE. "Saaaaaaaaam. Aaaaaaaannton?" He calls out. And, well. It looks like he sees 'em. "Oh. Oops." His mouth snaps closed as he stands up straight and looks a bit red in the ears.

Matto follows along in Darling Willem's wake, leaning to the side at the oops and ggently applying his elbow to Willem's ribs. "Didn't I say we probably didn't want to find them?" he tells him, a warm note of teasing in his voice. He looks over at the pair as he talks to Darling Willem, not shy about seeing people kissing, evidently. It might even melt his heart a little bit. G'aww.

Yes, the clothing's still on, but Thorn's blues top is in a conspicuous state of disarray. He's kissing Samantha furiously, his hands starting to travel… and that's when a not so nice tingle rushes up his spine at the sound of voices. Thorn tears free of Samantha's embrace, his face flushing a very dark crimson as one hand tries to restore his hair to some semblance of order, his other trying to rebutton those pesky top buttons. Needless to say, he fails miserably. "Um. You two looking for something?" he manages finally, forcing his arms to settle in at his sides.

Frak it all to hell! That's just about the -look- that Willem and Kissy are given the moment after she hears their voices and Thorn breaks the kiss. It looks like she was just about getting worked up too, her face in a deep flush and clothing a bit mussed, but not even unbuttoned otherwise. And the glare in her eyes is daggers, the poor woman probably having the worst case of metaphorical blue balls on the ship. "…Ah…good evening… -gentlemen-…can I… Help you?"

"Yeah." Wil says, his lips twitching to one side as the blush -slowly- fades. He nudges Matto in the arm with his elbow. "I'm good at this. Uh. You want us to go? We can." He stammers a bit even as he produces a battered paper bag from his satchel. It's clearly holding a bottle. "See. We were looking for a method of disposal of -this-. And Red Squadron's fabled party never -unfolded-." He sounds just faintly disappointed, here.

"In other words, we were looking for you," Kissy fills in the Gap Willem leaves in the story, looking amused enough despite the hell glares from the other side of the room. "But maybe we should just… put the liquor down… slowly… and retreat? We can do this." Is he already tipsy? Or just sort of exhausted?

Thorn realizes belatedly as he's pawing at his uniform that he's not even sure how those buttons came undone in the first place. They're buttoned right back up, though, after a steadying breath. His face is still a dull red, and he's directing one of those looks in the direction of both Kissy and Willem.

Samantha is almost glaring as much, but the offering of booze… well, it helps to soften the blow. She chuckles breathlessly. "NO… frak… frak. Come in. Pour me some of that booze, though. If I'm not getting frakked tonight, I'm at least getting drunk." She rubs a reassuring, if somewhat apologetic hand against Thorn's knee for a moment, still half slumping down against her tonsil hockey buddy.

"Like he said. We've got an option here. We can just put it down and walk away." Willem says, a little abashedly. "We can leave it here. Also, I can recommend. Um. Nadiv's not around so I can share a few juicy tips on places to hide that only Engineering might get a bit up in arms over." In fact, he does stoop downwards and set what appears to be a bottle of Tauron Brandy upon the cold metal of the floor.

The tool room door opens and low and behold Leda steps into the room. It would appear that he came to get something while he was looking his Viper over but this has his attention and he looks at the group, "I won't ask the obvious question instead I will ask the next most obvious question, who is going to pour a little something for me. I'm not getting drunk but a little something right about now would be nice." He then says to Wil with a wink, "So you pulled it off and got her done with out me, well done, Wil, well done. Though if you need help with supplies I can scrounge for you."

"I'll ask the obvious question." Wil wheels on his foot as he detects a newcomer. Well, Two newcomers. Castor gets addressed first. "I'll ask the obvious question. How'd you figure out where we were?" He inquires, seeming a little abashed. "Congratulations. But I heard you were off the sauce, Tin." He reaches into his satchel and rumbles for something else. Couple empty prophylactic wrappers. "Oops." Plink. They fall onto the floor. His ears again flash red as he fishes some more. "Bloody He— Oh, HERE It is." He gets out a small pocketknife to cut the seal off the bottle. Just then he registers the presence of Roubani. "Hullo Nadiv. Gods. What's going -on- here?" He just goes about scooping up his refuse awkwardly and works on cutting the seal off the bottle. It falls away and he sets it back down. "Have at it!"

"Just shut th' frak up an' give me th' frakkin' bottle," Thorn growls, obviously ruffled by the sudden invasion. He pops to his feet as the bottle is set down, his hand swiping it up off the floor. If he's interested in Wil's tips, he's a little preoccupied to show it as he whisks the cap off the bottle and takes a long pull. There's an odd look over at Castor. "Wait your turn, Leda," he says roughly, taking another pull for good measures. Yup, the hackles are clearly still up.

One just needs a pair of pliers sometimes. Roubani's here with that intent and that intent only, which quite suddenly is flipped on its head as he opens the hatch. And is immediately staring at Castor, Willem, and Matto's backs. And over shoulders at Sam and Thorn. "…gracious."

"Either way," Kissy nods agreement, tugging a little on Willem's jacket like he was tugging on the reins of a horse he was trying to compel to turn about. But then the hatch is open again and there's Castor, so he feels a little less bad. They'd have gotten interrupted any dang how. Right? He smiles in mingled apology and approbation at Thorn as he takes over the liquor, then turns about at the 'gracious' from the hatch. "Hey, N. Sorry, we in the way?" he asks.

Samantha stares, like a woman just left by her lover as…well…She's left by her not quite lover. She smirks at Anton, shaking her head, but doesn't pick herself up off the floor, just breathing through her frustrated blush and grabbing at a smoke from her dented pack out of her pocket… "Sorry, Castor…congrats on the pips, by the way…but I got next dibs on the bottle. These guys are givin' me blue balls and I don't even GOT balls." Sam grumbles out.

"Uh." Roubani clears his throat softly, and deftly NOT LOOKING at Samantha and Thorn. "You know, I'm certain there are pliers elsewhere. Come to think of it. Ay pliers will do in a pinch." Embarassment, not enough to slay the demon of terrible humour. There's two mentions of something all of a sudden, and his eyes flicker to Castor's collar. Then, just on reflex, to Matto's. Then, in surprise, to Willem's. Close, after all. "Oh my gosh. It's spread."

It takes Kissy a moment to figure out what Nadiv's on about, but when he does, there's a flash of a smile before his features go grave. "It has," Kissy informs Nadiv seriously, stepping closer, "Moonshine has it, too. I'm beginning to suspect you're the cause of it all," he jokes about, face wrestling down a smile from its deadpan.

Wordlessly, Thorn hands the bottle to Samantha, shaking his head ruefully as he also lights a fresh cigarette. He exhales heavily, not bothering with the jaunty smoke rings. Still a bit rattled for that. An eyebrow raises in Poet's direction. "Y'may as well get whatever th' frak it is y' came for, Roubani," Thorn calls out archly. "No sense worrying about it now." He slumps back down to the floor next to Sam, shaking his head with a very wan smile on his face.

Castor looks at Thorn and Samantha, "Take your time, I can wait." He then says, "And I'm not here to get drunk, I just want a taste - this stuff has the potential to become a powerful agent of trade, hell, it might even become worth more than money." He then smiles, "Thanks, Sam, it is good to finally make it out of being the worlds oldest jig." He then looks at Wil, "I…" he spots the empty wrappers and he says, "came in here to pick up a tool, I noticed something off on my bird, so I figured I'd fix it rather than let the deck hands work on it since it is a small thing. However, I'm suprised to find everyone in here." He then looks at Roubani and he greets with a warm, "Lieutenant." He then looks at Kissy "Which reminds me, I was coming to see you, I managed to trade some more gummies off of a civilian." He tosses a pack of gummies to Kissy.

"You're very bad at that whole…" Roubani talks to Matto, drawing a circle in the air around the man's face with his finger. "…serious thing, you know." There's a half smile. "Congratulations." That's given in a soft voice, seriously, before he nods to Castor. "Sir." And to Thorn, his ears go a little red. "Ah…yes…I. Suppose I should." AHEM. Pliers. On wall, grabbity.

"Somebody started the trend." Wil says, as his head lolls about. Back over his shoulder, he gestures towards Roubani suddenly after stowing his, er, trash. "Nadiv? Can I ask you a favor? I got used to you not calling me 'sir' on a regular basis. I kind of got used to this. Can we, you know. Continue the trend?" He continues fumbling in his manpurse a few moments more.

Samantha accepts the bottle, though Willem's dropping of the condom wrappers and she gives a low bit of a groan…"you're all using cruel and unusual torture on me. frak…. I haven't been frakked since before Scorpia….Gods…" She groans, leaning against Thorn's side as he sits with her and offers the bottle. She accepts it and knocks back a good, deep gulp of the stuff. Then a second gulp before offering it up to the room. "Come on, go on… drink whomever wants. Just make it fast. I want seconds." Or thirds, as it were. She still nestles in against Thorn, though, getting as comfortable as a frustrated woman can get.

Matto's features shift from hilarious-serious to actually sort of serious, if still touched with a warm lightheartedness as he replies, "Thanks," quietly to the Poet. Then, wow, he's getting gummy bears chucked at him, and he catches with a sureness with which he might not catch much else. "Oh, wow, what— thanks, Tinners, that's awesome. You have like a sixth sense. If we ever head planetside I'm using you as a dowsing rod," he warns, before Sam gets a brief glance. Before Scorpia? As in, this year? As in, this -decade-? Unimpressed by her chastity record, he just sort of grins at her, then looks back toward Nadiv, "You still at work?" he looks toward the pliers as if that's what they might signify.

"I would be a terrible social conservative if I didn't pledge some allegiance to the status quo, Price," Roubani informs Willem, overly grave. "Don't you worry." Pliers snatched, Samantha's comment makes him go bright red, even though he STILL ISN'T LOOKING that way. "No, no," he tells Matto. "I was going to attempt to fix something back at berthings. Which is, I believe, a good place to be heading." Anywhere but here. He starts inching backwards, kinda like a crabwalk.

Castor takes the bottle, sniffs it for a moment, then he tosses back a healthy shot of the stuff before handing it back to Sam, "Whoa…" he says, "that is some powerful stuff." He then looks at the group assembled, "You should call this stuff Kharon's Own…or Memory Killer." He then takes a moment to think about the trade possibilities and then he looks over at Kissy, "Hey, that is what I am here for and anything for a friend." He then looks over at Willem and the empty wrappers and then he looks over at Samantha, "Sam, give it time and wait. Besides, I'm not sure the tale of your locker has died down, yet."

"Duly noted." Wil says, through a snicker directed towards Roubani. "I snagged it off one of the salvage crews from the Bellerophon." He finally addresses the origin of said Tauron Brandy. And yes, it burns like battery acid. Rebound seemed to think it was worth accquiring, though. He's still fumbling inside his manpurse. Be afraid. Be -very- afraid. "I'm sorry, Sam. Thorn. I'll make it up to you, I know what it's like." While he's slightly red still, he seems to be composed. The embarassment isn't really directed towards -him-, right?

Samantha nods towards the dropped condom wrappers. "Lend us a fresh few of those and it's all forgotten." She then looks up to Roubani, smiling sweetly, "Hey, Poet… Not even sayin' hullo. I'm certain I could find your pliars if I d ug around…Somewhere… in here." How the hell does she make everything sound so DIRTY? She takes another puff of her cigarette, chuckling at Castor. "My locker's contents are between me and the wall…and besides… the batteries have run out. And I'm long out of warming…" She pauses, looking back to Roubani. This is SO not fair to him. "Never mind. Rebound there'll hook Thorn and I up later. Won't he?”

Roubani holds up the pliers he'd snagged so that Sam can see them. "Already done, Passi. Unless you need them yourself. Though I should hope for Thorn's sake you aren't into that sort of thing." Deadpanned.

Thorn snorts derisively. "Tin, you think Tauron brandy qualifies as 'memory killer'… you've obviously never been t' Aerelon." The cigarette comes back up to his lips. Ahhh, there's a smoke ring. He waves dismissedly at Willem. "Don't worry about it, Rebound… could've caught us in worse spots." There's another of those pale smiles at that. An arch glance at Roubani, and then Thorn is looking back at Samantha with a quizzical glance on his fa… wait. Never mind. He's sure he doesn't want to know.

Thorn snorts derisively. "Tin, you think Tauron brandy qualifies as 'memory killer'… you've obviously never been t' Aerelon." The cigarette comes back up to his lips. Ahhh, there's a smoke ring. He waves dismissedly at Willem. "Don't worry about it, Rebound… could've caught us in worse spots." There's another of those pale smiles at that. An arch glance at Roubani, and then Thorn is looking back at Samantha with a quizzical glance on his fa… wait. Never mind. He's sure he doesn't want to know.

"I think I'm with N on this one," Kisseus smiles, "It's getting late, and I don't need to start drinking this late. Or, well, I was going to, but now there are gummies, which totally trump," he chuckles softly, "Have fun with the booze, guys, thanks for the bears, Tinners," he tells him. He snugs Tinners and Willem in turn, then laughs alout at the Poet's comment. "What sort of thing do you mean?" he wonders, grinning broadly. Sure, he'll bite.

Leda stays out of this having had a belt of hooch is his limit these days. He then looks over at Kisseus, "No problem. Eat them in peace." He then looks over at the Samantha-Roubani situation and he doesn't say a word, Leda won't bite.

"Um. It's not a loan. It's a -gift-." Wil coughs roughly as he brings a freckled hand to his mouth. And coughs again. "Um. I don't have any more with me but ask me in the Berthings and you shall receive. Unless sickbay still has some. That's where I originally got them." He retrieves his hand from his satchel. Apparently he doesn't have what he was looking for. Or was he? Getting hugged by Matto, he simply one-arm-hugs the Raptor pilot in return. "Congratulations, Kisseus." He says warmly enough, although it's a bit hesitant. He keeps glancing over at Thorn, looking somewhat — apologetic?

"Shush," Roubani to Matto, out of the corner of his mouth. Pliers lowered, he clears his throat and tips his head for the hatch, "Have a lovely evening!" Is called pleasantly to the two who are sure to be staying.

"Sleep well when you get there, Nadiv." Wil tosses out, belatedly as he catches the man leaving. He also looks a bit apologetic here too.

Samantha stares between all of them, as Roubani actually manages to trump her at her own game, the man at her side looks genuinely a bit worried, and Madman is making things worse before leaving, not staying any longer than to interrupt their moment and go. "…Yeah, you just…just… Go enjoy your night, Kissy. You owe me a good frak down the line!" … from Thorn, apparently. It makes sense in her head. She then looks back to Roubani and states simply. "Use your imagination." And with those deadpanned remarks, she stands up herself. "…Alright. CAP in 8 hours… and there is so much awkward in this room I'm choking it. I might go sleep. After a visit with…. my locker…"

Matto holds up his free hand, not saying any old thing, but smiling innocently at the Poet, hopping along afer him toward the hatch.

"You as well, Price," Roubani calls back. Then /flees/ as Samantha gives that advice. No no no!

Matto is just about to turn with a 'wait, what?' moment, but then he's out the hatch, a genial sort of laugh escaping him.

Castor then looks over at Wil and he looks over at Roubani and then to Samantha and then he just wishes he was taking another hit from the bottle but he refrains. This is a lot of awkward, ayup, "So…" he says changing the subject, "Have you set the date yet, Wil?"

"Uh. Feel free to evict my dumb ass at any time." Wil says, a bit hesitantly as Matto and Roubani take their leave. This is directed towards Case and Thorn. "You both deserve to be happy without interference." He finally steps forward and reaches for the bottle, giving himself a hit. He seems hesitant, however. He addresses Castor's question with a shrug. "Nothing's set in stone for that. We'll figure it out when we do."

Thorn stands once again as well, reaching for Samantha's hand as she indicates her intent to leave. "Night," he says, pulling her back to him for a quick kiss. "Sorry," is muttered softly in her ear. "Next time."

Castor looks over at Thorn and then to Wil's comment and he says to Thorn, "What Wil said." He then looks back at Wil, "Well, let me know since I'd love to see this thing happen." He then looks over at the bottle for a moment and he sticks to his convictions, which translates as taking a step away from the bottle.

Samantha allows herself to be pulled into that kiss, and she returns it, warm and gently, leaning there close for a heartbeat. "Next time." She affirms with a soft breath before stepping away and giving a wave to the rest of the room…"Good night, boys, and your shiny new pips." With that, she ducks out the door, quietly heading back to a cold bed.

"Believe me. So would I. All of this at once. Who'd have thought it?" Wil says, smirking bemusedly. He steps forward to take another swill the now heavily-depleted bottle and then just walks on over, setting it in front of Castor. One might note that he has been drinking less and less over recent weeks too, even when faced with the availability of DRANK.

Thorn stands, watching Samantha leave with a sigh. "I'm out too," he says. "Frakkin' tired. Thanks for th' drank, Rebound." With a shake of the head and an inaudible mutter, he heads for the hatch. "Night." He pauses in mid-stride. "And congratulations," he offers halfheartedly to the newly-promoted officers before he resumes his trek for the exit.

Castor looks at the bottle and he licks his lips, his hand goes to touch the bottle and then he looks back at Willem, "This came from a good vintage, I don't know how this survived but wow…it is good." He then looks back at Thorn for a moment, "Thank you." He offers as he looks back at Willem, "All of this at once indeed, I really thought I'd be the worlds oldest JiG forever."

"Good job, Thorn. Good job." Willem states, as he meanders towards the hatch, himself. "I have to go show -someone- the pins and foster the delusion that I'm a hero. She seems to be buying it." He snickers, bemusedly. "Have fun with the drank, gentlemen."

Willem shrugs towards Castor. "Things happen. We endure."

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