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Renos

LtJG Jocelyn Marshall & LtJG Orson Marshall - A Haemorrhage

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(( Isle of Derom, off the coast of Iklan Cape, Trill ))


O. Marshall: You're a hard woman to find when you want to be.


::Jo frowned and looked up. The quiet evening she had planned to have on the little island watching the sunset was slipping rapidly out of her fingers. She was lost in her own head, daydreaming, thinking, pondering, trying to piece together thoughts that were entirely stumbling through her mind at the best of times.


::She rubbed her forehead, massaging her temple with her index finger, feeling a headache approaching with an irregular tentativeness in his usual swaggering gait. Couldn’t she just have a moment to herself? Apparently not in this Bear-centric universe.::


Marshall: Did you not think that maybe I didn't?


::Orson turned and leaned back against the railing, clearly not giving a care about her hermetic requirements.::


Marshall: Not now. I’m really not in the mood to do this with you. Transport back to wherever you came from, please.


O. Marshall: That makes a change. No witty comeback? No parry of insults? Are you sick?


::She deftly avoided his palm going for her forehead and shook her head at him; she was tired, she had a lot on her mind - obviously it came across in her demeanour. She looked at her hands rubbing over one another, then clasped them together to stop fidgeting.::


Marshall: No, I'm fine. Work is kicking my aft from bow to stern. You know, that thing that everyone else does when you’re off doing whatever you do when you’re AWOL. There, shots fired. Now, will you leave me alone?


::He bumped her shoulder with his, knocking her slightly to the side. She resisted the temptation to just slide under the railings and into the sea, beating a track out of there and try to drown herself in the process.::


O. Marshall: Come on, Lieutenant Targface is here. What's going on?


Marshall: I’m not going to spill my guts for you, vulture.


O. Marshall: ::He shrugged.:: Try me.


Marshall: No.


::Silence slipped into the cavern between them, a respite from the prodding, before a smile that broached on sympathetic but didn't quite reach it crested the mouth of the bearded man stood beside her..::


O. Marshall: Someone's on your mind.


::Her lack of answer told him he was right; she didn't need to confirm it, he was practically gleeful.::


O. Marshall: I'd know that look anywhere. ::then, he frowned:: It isn't Sera, is it?


::Jo rolled her eyes. Oh yes, a perfectly reasonable leap in cognition to make. Idiot.::


Marshall: No. While we're on that subject, get your own friends. Better yet, get your own ship. Do me the favour of disappearing for another year.


O. Marshall: That might be a reality sooner than you think.


Marshall: Great, let me know when and I'll pretend to care for the evening.


::Bear grinned in response beneath the beard, knowing full well she didn't mean it as much as she actually did, then turned and focused his attention on the small island they were stood on, lights and the rousing sound of music coming from the city on the mainland. A beat echoed between them, his hands drumming an off rhythm on the railing before continuing his line of invasive questioning.::


O. Marshall: Tell me about them. Is it someone I know?


Marshall: Thankfully not.


O. Marshall: You've never been very good at lying. Your nose crinkles.


::He poked her ruffled feature and earned a death glare in return.::


O. Marshall: It's the Scientist, isn't it? The blonde one that looks just like the...


Marshall: No, it isn't.


O. Marshall: Crinkle.


Marshall: Bear. ::The death glare amplified.:: Please stop with the wild accusations.


O. Marshall: Stop trying to deny them. ::he waited for a split second:: Talk to me, Josie.


::He hadn't called her that in *decades*; since he'd left their home on Volan III for Starfleet Academy. A nickname she had unceremoniously dropped when she was permitted to do so. It pained her to hear it in a way she didn't think was still possible; a remnant of a time when they were close.::


Marshall: I’d rather be shot at dawn than hear that again. That was a jerk move.


O. Marshall: I do what I can to get what I want. You know that. ::the bastard chuckled:: Who is she? The Admiral's cousin? Sister from another marriage?  A twin? Word is they don’t get along.


Marshall: Something like that. Don’t think too much about it, you’ll give yourself a haemorrhage.


::Jo exhaled and tongued her cheek. It was likely that Bear already knew - he just liked seeing how far he could push.::

O. Marshall: Look, whatever it is, you need to get it off your chest and who better than your flesh and blood.


Marshall: I suppose I haven't spoken to George in a while...


O. Marshall: Very funny. You can talk to me.  


::She exhaled a sigh and angled an eyebrow.::


Marshall: There's no need to repeat yourself. I ignored you perfectly fine the first time.


O. Marshall: I'm trying to have a heart to heart with you.


Marshall: I know, I'm trying to avoid it.


::Her thoughts had been unravelling long before he showed up in her little slice of paradise. By no means was he getting under her skin again. She narrowed her eyes at him.::


Marshall: And, just to make where you stand perfectly clear, I don’t trust your intentions as far as I could shoot them out of the torpedo launchers.


::Orson laughed and mimicked her lean on the railings.::


O. Marshall: Who am I going to tell? Everyone avoids me. It's like I've got the fabled albatross tied around my neck.

Marshall: I don't care. I'm still picking out the shrapnel from the last time you destroyed my trust in you.

::He dropped his head, looking almost like a little boy again.::

O. Marshall: Come on. Hit me.


Marshall: Oh, don’t tempt me.


::She blew out a heavy sigh and looked out at the crashing waves. The knife to the stomach was that he wasn't wrong. Her heart spun in confusing circles for the displaced Lieutenant that had put up with an Ensign for a shadow on a limping ship, constructing a slow and steady friendship.

::They were so different. Erin was brave and resilient, an inner strength like wool wrapped around a bat’leth, steel and grit in her blood, with galaxies in a soft and kind heart, gentle smiles amidst orderless freckles, while Jo was stuck being all dumb jokes, laid-back, no game plan, tripping over herself in her own uncoordinated manner. She was never any good at any of it.


::Bear's voice cut through the noise in her head, guessing at her thought process while she chewed the inside of her cheek.::


O. Marshall: Many before you have fallen for their superiors, Jo. Many after you will do the same.


::She rarely blushed to any magnitude that was perceivable, but it spread through her cheeks like she’d had a heavy night with a tank of rum. As soon as they heated, her walls were back up.::


Marshall: I haven't and I wouldn’t tell you even if I had.


::It was just another chink in her armour to him; something to poke and prod. Bear was a born manipulator, whether he liked it or not. She could use a phaser as a paperweight but it wouldn't change what it was inside; a fact she had forgotten on too many occasions. A chuckle rippled from the man.::


O. Marshall: No, I'm sure you haven’t.  Deltan pheromones are all mixed up in your system.


::Jo said nothing, and stared at her hands clasped together on the railing. Maybe the attraction had started out as just that - a complicated concoction of chemicals. Then another year had flown by while Erin was on The Ark Project, and her affection for the woman hadn't lessened any. She was still wrapped around her core.


::Bear slipped his hand onto her shoulder and she shrugged it off.::


O. Marshall: Do you want to go grab a drink with me?


Marshall: No.


O. Marshall: One drink. See what kind of trouble we can get into like we used to.


::There was a momentary spark of the old sibling banter she couldn't deny, and spending time away from her own thoughts was appealing. However, "like they used to" was a very broad term.::


Marshall: One drink. I actually have to function tomorrow, not laid up in bed with one of your style hangovers.


O. Marshall: It's the first day of leave. I know how to restrain myself.

Marshall: ::She snorted:: No, you absolutely do not. You never did.

 

---
Lieutenant JG Jocelyn Marshall
Operations Officer
USS Gorkon
G239304JM0


&


(PNPC) Lieutenant JG Orson Marshall
Former Logistics and Communications Specialist
Former 451st Ranger Platoon
USS Gorkon

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