Between Friends
Between Friends
Summary: Salin and Jocasta end up getting together for that overdue drink and a little conversation between friends.
Date: 71 ACH
Related Logs: None

Battlestar Genesis - Deck 9 - Pool

At this particular moment, Salin seems to be doing some very simple laps in the pool, no doubt to test how the movement through the water feels against the pain of his ribs. By the looks of things, he's not having too much problem, for each stroke seems to be coming fluidly and without a telltale wince of pain.

After Rue's most recent number edict, there've been more than a few flyers spotted in the gym, brutalizing the bags and working the weights in small clutches of determination. Jocasta, however, is here on her own. She's dressed to swim and by all accounts, she doesn't seem to recognize whoever is in the water just yet.

Salin's not aware of another person within the confines of the pool just yet. Having snagged it at a rather quiet moment, the man continues to do his laps, stopping only when he's reached the shallow end of the pool. There, he latches one hand on the side of the pool and lifts up from the water as his other hand comes to wipe the little droplets from his brow and face.

There's a pair of tan feet to be seen, just out of arm's reach, on the side of the pool that Salin clings to while shooing the water away from his eyes. The feet are attached to legs, of course, and then hips, belly, breasts, and shoulders sprouting a pair of arms, neck head, and black hair. Familiar, probably. "Hey."

With the droplets of water gone from his eyes and face, Salin lowers his hand down to his neck, fingering a ring encircled upon a necklace that rests there. It's then that he spots a pair of feet almost directly in front of him and his brow slowly begins to arch as he looks upwards. Finally, realizing that it's Jo, he's giving her a quick smile, followed by a nod of his head, "Hey there, Maru. How's it going today?"

"S'going, sir. How're the ribs?" It probably bears mention that Jocasta's left arm, the one that got grazed by a Centurion's shot just a few days ago, has been applied with a plastic wrap sort of waterproof bandage. Beyond that, however, she looks no different than usual, if a little less clothed.

Offering a soft laugh, Salin gives his shoulders a slight shrug, "Well enough, thankfully. They don't seem to bother me that much while I'm swimming." A careful look would notice that all bruising has since faded. There's the hint of an odd scratch here and there, and shy of the necklace, he actually looks like he did back in the gym, before he got trounced by the Sheriff, "And as much as I hate swimming, it'll have to suffice. Not allowed to work out in the gym for at least another week." The hand falls from his neck, motioning upwards, "How's the arm feeling?"

Jo doesn't comment on the necklace. Not yet. Instead, she pretends to be self-centered enough to be lured into conversation only about herself. "S'good. Thought I'd test it out with a little rotation today," she says, taking a seat on the edge of the pool and letting her legs test out the water temperature for a minute before she commits to going all the way. Let's all just pretend like we didn't have a squadron of Cylon Centurions tearing open the hull and invading the upper decks yesterday. This is par for the course.

There's a nod of his head and Salin's pushing off from the wall, backstroking a few feet away before he's giving a nod of his head, "Well then, don't let me stop you. Water's not all that cold and it sure beats meandering around the halls and the lounge." A lift of his shoulders, "Change in scenery. Not that many places left aboard this ship that can offer that."

"Yes, sir," she says, slipping down into the shallow end of the pool and preparing to give her own go to a series of laps. But first, it's a quick dunk under the water to get her ponytailed hair wet. And then she, too, momentarily sweeps the water back away from her eyes and face and tries to plot out her course in the pool ahead of time. Shades of the job she does creeping in to darken the corners of everyday life. "Everyone in your office make out okay?" she calls, not that she needs to raise her voice too loudly; this room echoes enough on its own.

Letting her slip in, Salin merely begins to treat water off to the side for the moment. Once she's in and dunked, he's giving his head a slow nod, "Yes. We don't get a lot of injuries in the offices." There's a pause and he's watching her for a moment as his brow slowly begins to lift, "How about the Air Wing? I hope that there was no one seriously injured?"

Jocasta shakes her head slowly before she says, "Not this time, sir." Before she begins to embark upon her laps, however, there's the matter of warming up… and so, she tip-toes out into the neck-deep water and begins to play with rotation, winding her arm forward and back. "They caught us by surprise, but I don't think they were trying to take us out so much as keep us distracted." Though, they certainly did seem to be awful interested in making sure she didn't make it back. Godsdamn.

Listening, Salin's offering another quick nod of his head, "It did seem like they were after something specific on the Genesis, I must admit." A pause and he smiles, "I'm glad no one from your Wing was lost or seriously injured, Maru." It's an honest sentiment and after a moment, he takes back to his laps, though he's doing short ones, so that he can stay within talking distance, "You guys find out exactly what they were doing? Or is that as much as mystery to you, as it is to me?"

The Raptor co-pilot appears to be experiencing little if any pain in her exercises so far and so conversation comes easily. "They landed two of their big birds out on the hull, cut into the upper decks…" Her dark eyes follow Salin in his short courses and she can't help but try on a lopsided grin; hey, it's not a bad sight to behold, okay? Of course, with current conversation being what it is, that might seem like an odd expression to wear. "…if I didn't know better, I'd wonder if maybe we didn't bring back something from Virgon that they don't want us to have." And then she stops. Pauses. And all the color drains from her face. She literally hadn't considered that possibility until just now.

The lopsided grin that she decides to wear, hasn't been noticed, for Salin's doing his laps, and while focusing on the conversation, his eyes are focused ahead him. Pausing, he turns and begins to swim back from here he came, stopping after a moment to consider something before giving his head a slight nod, "That's a good possibility. Very good possibility. 'course, could have been something from before Virgon as well and they finally just got around to getting us. I'm gonna leave the why to the scientists. Way out of my field of expertise."

Yeah. Good point. Scientists are smart. Surely they must have considered this possibility before it just so happened to pop into some random flygirl Ensign's brain. Still… Jocasta can't help but look concerned. "Hopefully they figure out what brought that on pretty quick or else… I mean, we can't just keep jumping every time they show up and if they keep cutting into us when they do…" DOOM! Poor thing. So sucked into the 'what ifs'.

There's a soft laugh and Salin's giving his head a slight shake, "I think I can safely say that the scientists that we have on board, as well as those engineers, are probably working day and night to figure out what went out and how they found us. In the mean time?" His shoulders lift in a slight shrug, "We're just going to have to do our best to out jump them. And if we can't? Then, our pilots and weapons specialists will just need to make sure the toaster think twice about coming at us."

Although Jocasta doesn't look particularly convinced at Salin's suggested course of action, she doesn't really have an alternative aside from strategic suicide to interject, and so she falls quiet and sink a bit in the water until it's lapping at her chin. After a little while, she asks, "So, when're they gonna let you have alcohol again?" He probably knows where this is going.

There's a slight arch of a brow and Salin's beginning to make his way towards the shallow end of the pool and when it's reached, he's rising up out of the water again. His head turns to look over his shoulder, towards Jocasta, and he's offering a soft chuckle, "I've been allowed to have alcohol for a couple of days now, Ensign. Because my ribs aren’t in serious condition and the pain isn't severe, I was no longer eligible for pain meds. Which… was fine with me."

Jocasta turns her head and, eventually, the rest of her body, swiveling in the water to keep her eyes on her conversation partner. "Just wondering," she says with a smirk, arms still engaged in therapeutic rotations.

It would seem like Salin is done for a moment, for he's walking over to the edge of the pull and then gingerly pulling himself up to sit on the edge. Seems like those ribs do still give him a problem from time to time. Clasping his hands in his lap, he watches her for a moment, a smile on his lips, "You're looking to claim that drink that I owe you, aren’t ya?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," she says, lips still sporting a lopsided smirk. She pauses in her hydrotherapy and closes the distance between then by half a dozen steps, bringing her to somewhere just above waist-deep while she gives her bandaged arm a moment's inspection.

There's a soft laugh and then Salin is giving a quick nod of his head, "Alright, come on Maru, let's go get you that drink I owe you." There's a flash of a smirk in return and he's rising from his perch on the edge of the pool. "Just let me grab a quick shower and get changed in the locker room and then I'll meet you in .." He pauses slightly, giving a soft laugh, "Where do you want to meet? Over in my berthings? I've got a bottle of brandy and whiskey stashed away."

Oh? Is this going to be a private party? Jocasta seems surprised. So say the raised eyebrows, at any rate. This does not, however, deter her from accepting. "Sure, sir. Officer berths in about an hour, how's that?" Should be plenty of time for them to both catch a shower and find their way into dry clothes.
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The lift of her eyebrows at his offer does catch his attention and he's lifting a hand, waving it ever so slightly, "This is just a friendly drink, Maru." Another smirk and he's lifting a hand upwards to run it through his hair, "So, don't get it through your head that I'm trying to make a move on you." There's a soft cluck of his tongue and then he's giving a nod, "One hour. Berthings. Don't be late, Ensign. That's an order." There's a flash of a grin and he's turning, beginning to pad his way over towards the exit and eventually the locker room.

He's not trying to make a move? Aw! Now she looks… disappointed? But, hey, whatever. Maybe he'll change his mind when he's not stone-cold sober. Either way, Jocasta lurches slowly forward toward the stairs, acknowledging the 'order' with a chipper, "Yes, sir."

Battlestar Genesis - Deck 12 - Naval Officer Berthings

Salin had made his way to the berthings and had quickly changed out of his uniform and into his off-duty clothes. The ring is concealed beneath the ugly brown and gray shirts, though the necklace is still visible. He's seated himself at the table, where a bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit. And while he waits for the Ensign to arrive, he's apparently decided to take to jotting something down on a piece of paper.

Somewhere right around the forty-seventh minute mark, there's a brief rap of knuckles on the hatch before Jocasta peeks her head in to the berths and has a look around. Is she early? Is anyone else afoot? No on both accounts? Good. She steps in and mockingly tosses the Major a salute before she says, "Reporting as ordered, sir!"

Looking up from his paperwork at the sound of a knock, Salin can't help but offer a smirk as he's offered a mock salute. There's a slight arch of his brow and he motions towards one of the chairs, across from him, with a nod of his head, "As you were, Ensign. Have a seat." The paper is set aside and he's moving forward to reach for the bottle to crack it open so that both glasses can be filled, "Hope you like whiskey, because that's what you're getting."

"I'll cope, sir," she says with a smirk, claiming a seat next to Salin and hunkering down for the long haul, or so it seems. Jocasta lets her fingers drum the tabletop lightly for a moment before she says, "I hope you weren't saving this for a special occasion." Which, of course, implies that this is not a special occasion.

There's that arch of a brow as she hunkers down next to him and he's giving a soft laugh before shaking his head, "Good, cause I don't keep a whole bar in my locker. So you're choices were limited to begin with." A glass is pushed in her direction and then he's taking the other one, "Only thing I save this for, is having a couple of drinks with friends." He lifts his glass in a mock toast, "To save flying, Ensign."

Jocasta returns the toast readily and with a genuine smile riding in the place of her usual half-hearted smirk, "To safe flying, sir, and returning home to friends." She has enough sense to realize that whiskey isn't meant to be shot back like other alcohol and so, instead of tossing it back, she takes in a healthy sip and then swallows… slowly. There. Not her usual, but not so bad. "Tastes like beachwood," she offers. Is that a compliment? She then wagers a cup-held gesture to the paperwork put off to the side and asks, "You've been keeping busy then, eh?"

"To friends." Salin adds almost immediately after she does. Then, his glass is lifted to his lips and he's taking a healthy drink of the amber colored liquid. For a moment it's savored and then he's nodding his head acceptably, "Wouldn't have it any other way. Reminds ya that you're still alive." There's a smirk and he's eyes drift over to the paper, "Busy enough, I suppose. Trying to scale back on the work, so that I'm not cooped up in my office on a regular basis."

"Good luck with that," Jocasta offers, fingers from both hands now collapsing in around the rim of her glass. "Have you been to any of the other ships yet?" The new ones, presumably. She's seen him on the Carina, after all.

There's a soft chuckle and Salin is giving a shake of his head, "You're the fourth person to wish me luck on that task. It's like people think I work far too much." A smirk steals upon his lips and at the mention of the other ships, he's giving a nod of his head, "I've been over to the Hera a couple of times. Nice little ship, I gotta admit. Gonna be interesting to see what it looks like once the Snipes and Tech's finish their work, though. How about you?"

Jocasta slings a pair of casually raised eyebrows Salin's way, meaning that she must agree, at least partially, in regards to the man's work ethic. After another dose of whiskey, Jo confesses with slumped shoulders, "Only the Nebula." Meaning, she was only there as witness to the massacre. Fun times. "I was thinking about having a look at the Hera when I'm on shore. S'a training ship, right?"

A nod of his head and Salin is cringing slightly at the mention of the Nebula, "Not a ship I really want to discuss. Not one that many want to discuss." He gives his head a slight shake before lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips, taking another long sip. When it's lowered, he's giving a quick nod, "Aye. It was a fighter training ship. It's pretty well armed now and Major Carter has taken over command of it."

"Major Carter…" Despite herself, Jocasta can't help but stifle a snicker behind the palm of her hand while she sweeps a pair of fingers over her upper lip. "…what're they gonna do with it now, then?" Because surely it won't remain a training vessel under Reed.

Leaning back in his chair slightly, Salin settles the glass in his lap while his other hand lifts to run idly through his hair. His shoulders lift, giving a slight shrug along with a smile, "No idea. From what one of the Ensigns told me, it's going to become an active warship. They might do some training sorties from it, but it'll be another active military ship for engagements."

One of the Ensigns. Jocasta jostles her head in an affirmative nod, tossing back another pull of whiskey and mulling the way it mixes with the words on the tip of her tongue. She looks sidelong at Salin for a little while before she finally asks, "Whose ring is that… 'round your neck?" Before he delivers the answer (if there is an answer to come), she finishes off her first glass but still keeps it clutched in both hands like a focus.

Salin's lifting his own glass to his lips, the remainder of the whiskey within, drained, in one final drink. Then, the glass is lowered, coming to rest on the table before he's reaching for the bottle. He doesn't make it though, for the question has him pausing mid-reach and his free hand lifts to touch the ring beneath the shirts. There's an arch of his brow and he's settling his gaze back upon Jo for a moment before answering, "It belongs to Ensign Peters."

Uh huh. With an exaggerated affirmative nod, just once up and down, Jocasta extends her arm that culminates in a hand holding an empty glass. Fill 'er up. She can hold off the ensuing inquisition until after she's had a second round. For now, she falls silent… contemplative, maybe.

The reach for the bottle is completed and Salin's leaning over just slightly to refill his glass, then a slight lean back and he's filling his own. With the bottle settled back on the table, his fingers curl around his glass once more, but it's not lifted to his lips, "Sorry if ya thought I was kidding when I said it'd just be a friendly drink." He settles back into his chair, glass lowered to rest lightly atop his thigh, "If you're looking for something more, I'm the wrong one to be going to."

Once her glass has been refilled, Jocasta resumes her smirking armor and says against the rim, "You should talk less, sir." A drink. A wince. A sigh. A look. "…or, at least, assume less. I'm just here for the free booze." She's only partially teasing but it's hard to tell.

There's a faint smirk and Salin is canting his head slightly to the side before he's giving one, slow, nod, "So long as we're on the same page, Jo. And so long as you're aware." His glass his lifted to his lips and he's draining the contents of it in a single sitting, the empty glass being set on the table and then pushed aside ever so slightly, "Fair enough?"

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"I'm pretty sure the whole ship's aware, sir," she says with no small note of displeasure. "Can't say I'm not disappointed, though." Oh, hey, here comes the whiskey-coaxed honesty, right. "Wouldn't have minded a go… you know?" Hello, eyebrow waggle. "But, I guess I don't really appeal to your sort. Don't really appeal to much of anyone's sort. Must be on account of my being too damn good for the likes of anyone left livin'…" She even squares up to look Salin in the eye for a moment, smiling instead of smirking, but it's a short-lived deception and she soon fades and goes back to nursing her glass in quiet contemplation.

There's a soft laugh and Salin's brow is arching upwards, ever so slightly, "Are they now?" There's a soft hrrm and his shoulders lift in a slight shrug. Hands come to settle in his lap, fingers lacing together, lips curling into a slight smirk, "Uh … thanks." Yep, somewhat stunned there. After a quick shake of his head, he's giving a smile, "Sorry if you were led to believe I was looking for something other than being a friend." A pause now and he's canting his head slightly, "You'll find someone, Jo."

Gesturing with her borrowed cup of booze, Jocasta says, "Let's not start that, shall we, mate?" Now that she's a few fingers in to the drink, a few of her slightly anachronistic Aerelonian tendencies tumble out from between her lips more frequently. "So… what is it about her, then, 's so special?"

There's a soft laugh and Salin is nodding his head slightly, "Fair enough." A pause and his brow shoots upwards slightly, "Her smile. Her intelligence. The fact that she's a lot like me." A pause. "The way she looks at me. It's just one of those things that feels right. Like, it was meant to be." Another pause and he's chuckling softly, "And this is not something that you actually want to talk about."

"Not really," she says with a chuckle and a shrug of her shoulders. "But, I figure you do and so…" Jocasta lifts her glass, almost as if in a toast, before bringing it back down to her lips for another sip. "I'll all ears, sir. Gush away. It'll stay between you, me, and the bottle."

There's a soft laugh and Salin's giving his head a quick shake, "Thanks Jo, I 'ppreciate the gesture. But I don't need to talk about her." There's a flash of a smile and he's canting his head to the side, "There'll be other days to talk about that subject, I'm sure." His hand motions towards the bottle, "I've got some things I need to attend to. Take the bottle with you. Finish it if you'd like, or we'll catch up again and have another drink. Maybe by then, I'll be able to go a round in the gym, as well."

Jocasta purses her lips for a moment before tossing back the rest of her second glass and sweeping a hand out to claim the offered bottle. Dismissed. With booze. Guess that means she can't rightly complain, eh? "Until then, sir," she says while escaping her seat. She heads for the door quietly, whiskey bottle held in her left hand while her right shoves the heavy hatch door aside.

Watching as she begins to make her way towards the hatch, Salin simply shakes his head slightly before calling out, "Hey, Jo." A pause, "If you’re interested in being friends, it's Salin when we're off duty and in berthings. Take it easy, alright?" There's a flash of a smile and then he's moving over towards his locker to slip it opened so he can rummage through it.

The countermeasures officer pauses briefly, just past the threshold, and she ducks her shoulders as if hefting off a heavy weight before she turns to say, "In that case, thanks… Salin." And then she's disappeared around the door and down the corridor.

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