Kitten's Got Claws
Kitten's Got Claws
Summary: On the Observation Deck, Regas goes RAWR. Or at least tries to. Pepper's got claws of her own.
Date: 48 ACH
Related Logs: None

Roosters Nest (Obs Deck) Genesis - Deck 9
48 ACH 6285 Souls

The observation deck is at the fore of the ship. The viewport allows those who come here to relax and enjoy a little quiet time with opposite sex. When the ship is under Alert levels, the viewport has a steel shutter that automatically comes down over the viewport for protection of the glass. The seats here are single and double and set up like a theater. They are cushioned and some recline back for those quick naps.

It's a quiet evening up in Obs. There are a few people scattered around here and there, mostly in pairs. There is, however, a single female near the back, her head bent over an open file folder on her lap. She's making notes, of some kind, and referencing two other open file folders that are on the seats nearby. There's a glass of amber-colored liquid sitting nearby, looking virtually untouched. Whatever is going on, she seems, for the moment, intently locked on her work.

Zaharis strays up to the Obs deck after spending the day back and forth between his crews and the Carina's. He hasn't quite gotten around to unbuttoning the top of the duty shirt yet, and his focus is down on his handheld as he comes into the room. A couple buttons pushed with his thumb and message sent, and he heads over to look for hot water.

Regas follows the trail of Officers who left crumbs behind. He has unbuttoned his jacket and is ready to take some nice quiet time on the Obs deck. Although, when he steps across the threshold of the hatch, there are a few that skitter their way out. An amused smile goes over his shoulder when they disappear. Touching a hand to the front of his jacket, he heads for something to drink also, seeing the CMO standing there. There is a pause though as he lifts his head. One of those 'shift in the force' looks. Pepper DRADIS on standby as usual.

There's the briefest of glances up and Pepper closes the documents on her lap, beginning to stand. "Your drink is ready, Commander," she calls out to Regas, reaching out for the untouched glass of amber liquid. Turning, she makes her way over toward him, offering Zaharis a warm, professional smile. "May I get you something as well, Major," she asks, a voice low and quiet.

Shortly after the arrival of Regas and Zaharis, Salin decides to make his way into the Observation Deck, away from the paperwork he's so recently been buried in. Once the threshold of the doorway has been cleared, he's lifting a hand upwards to unbutton the top button on his jacket, letting it flag down to reflect that he's off duty. Moving further within the room, his eyes flicker around the area, though when they fall upon Regas, his brow lifts upwards ever so slightly.

Zaharis turns his head as people skitter out, one dark brow raising. "Feel like I'm watching a nature vid. Introduction of the predator onto the plains." He gives Regas a mild two-fingered salute. "Sir." He looks over at Pepper as she graciously offers and waves his hand. "Already over here Ensign, thanks though." Indeed his hand's already on a cup, the other putting his handheld away. He looks over his shoulder as someone else approaches. "Hey, Salin."

Regas brings up a warm smile for the aide and takes the glass, "Thank you, Pepper. No work talk though." Finding a comfortable seat, he settles down and takes a long drink from the glass. With that ease of a reclining chair, the Commander makes himself even more comfortable in front of the view port. "I should install one of these in my office." Seeing the JAG, he smiles.

Pepper dips her head to Salin, familiarly, smile warm and professional. Once she sees Regas settled, she does what ever good aide does - disappears into the woodwork. She and her files adjourn to a nearby chair, a pen in hand. The Commander has deemed no work talk, but she's not talking, now is she?

At Regas' smile, Salin's brow lowers and he's giving a polite nod of his head, followed by a flash of a quick smile, "Commander." Then, it's over towards Pepper, to whom he's repeating those same motions, "Ensign." Finally, Medical Man draws JAGMan's attention and a hand lifts in a quick wave, "Jesse." A couple of steps forward and he's trying to peer at Zah's cup, "Drinking anything good?"

Zaharis tilts it towards Salin to show off the goods. "Last bag of my own stash of red tea. Or I should say, last gasp of the last bag. It's been steeped twice already." And indeed the water's not looking too colourful. Oh well. Not about to go disturbing Regas and Pepper, he leans back against the table, patting around his pockets for his cigarettes. "You been alright?"

Regas lets his eyes drift over to the paperwork his Aide is working on. He can't help himself, it is ingrained into his soul. Another drink is taken though and he remains silent. It could be one of his zen moments as he listens to the quiet chatter nearby.

Without looking up at him, Pepper holds out the top folder, opened, so that the Commander can see the single sheet of paper held within. It's his schedule for the next day, with certain meetings highlighted in one color, other events highlighted in other colors. It's color coded. Apparently the next day is a rather light day.

There's a slight scrunching of Salin's face and he's shaking his head slightly, "And here I thought you might be trying something a little more adventerous. Like, stealing marine country coffee." There's a quick smile and his hand slips into a pocket, withdrawing a pack of smokes which he extends to Zah, "Well enough, I suppose. Had to get away from the paperwork. Seems to be reproducing. How about you?"

"I don't steal Marine coffee. That responsibility is delegated to trusted aides. They're slacking, come to think of it." Zaharis smirks at the cigarette offer, plucking one out. "Seriously, when did you start smoking? Second time now, I'm starting to think you're actually dedicated." Since Salin offered the cig, he reciprocates with the lighter.

"Frak," Regas mutters as he notices one of the highlighted areas. "I'd forgot about that one. Put it off, tell them to take some time off for Colonial Day festivities. We'll do it the day after. Nothing after 4 bells." He then glances toward the other two, "You can join us over here, if you like. I promise not to bite anyone today. I took my teeth out."

"The plundered Marine coffee stash is kept in the lower right hand cabinet, back of the third shelf in the personal supply closet," Pepper pipes up from where she's making a notation about the changed meeting. "Research showed that very few male Marines, the ones most likely to be ripping through said coffee, are willing to put their hand in a box marked "Feminine Hygeine Products" just to get their coffee." She pauses for a moment, biting on the end of her pen. "Of course, a stash of wrapped said products on top of the coffee may have had something to do with that," she comments idly. "Or so I've been told." Riiiiight. So she's been bold. "As for the paperwork, the paperwork contraceptive program is still in the planning stages. One of your aides is working up the proposal, Major Altair. It will be on your desk next Wednesday." She continues her work, considering the file on her lap. "Commander Regas, your teeth are being cleaned by Engineering and will be back on Thursday. Someone from Major Zaharis' office asked me to request that you only bark until then, and not bite. The last Ensign you sent to Sickbay with bite marks required special handling."

Once Zaharis has claimed a smoke, Salin follows suit and then replaces the package in his pocket. The offered lighter is accepted and when his smoke is lit, he's takes a long haul off of it before exhaling the smoke off to one side, "If you ask nicely, I'll bring you over some of the Carina grade stuff." There's a quick grin and his eyes flash down to the smoke in his hand, "Took it up awhile back when I was posted to the JAG office on Caprica. Been off and on over the years, moreso with the on in the past month though." Regas' words are caught and Salin casts a look over towards him, but any reply is cut off by the sudden burst of laughter at Pepper's reply. His free hand lifts and he motions towards her, though his gaze is focused on Regas, "Careful Commander. I'm suddenly feeling the need to convience the Ensign that she's erred in her judgement of a posting and that she'd be much happier in JAG." Even as that's said, he's angling off towards where Regas is, "Come on Jesse."

"I'd tell you you shouldn't smoke, but I think that counts as 'working'," Zaharis replies to Salin, quite deadpan. He takes his lighter back and flicks it to life for his own. Pepper gets a very long squint through the veil of smoke that rises in front of his face, and he turns his head to exhale. Whether the CMO was impressed or horrified by that outpouring is impossible to tell from his expression, but it's one of the two! "That's pretty ingenious," he comments to her, following Salin over towards the Command Nest. "Didn't know we had a covert ops posting over in the Navy. Better keep this well and quiet."

Regas lets his brows move down in that snaky look as he turns his head slowly and looks toward Pepper. He also sends out a low chuckle at her words, "Excellent tactics, Pep." His head lifts to view Salin, "No, they broke the mold when they made her. You'll have to airlock me to get her as an aide." He flashes a thin smile, "That goes for any male admirers." Whose to say if he knows about any hanging around CIC and offering to take out the trash.

"I do believe that Lieutenant Shem attempted to recruit me this afternoon, Sirs," Pepper comments dryly. "I allowed as how I might be lent out on an as needed basis, should my two senior officers not have need of my services." She offers Zaharis a warm smile and dips her head at the two men approaching. "Sirs," she says quietly. "Commander, you missed lunch this afternoon. A light meal should be delivered shortly. Majors, shall I place an order for you two as well?" She stands as they approach, but then looks at Regas, blinking for a moment. Yes, she looks a little baffled. If her expression is to be believed, she seems to be under the impression that the Commander is looking for male companionship. And boy, is SHE surprised.

There's a soft laugh towards Zaharis and Salin gives a quick nod of his head, "Certainly counts as working, but I won't hold it against you. 'specially since you can't follow your own advice." Reaching Regas' table, the lawyer gives a soft chuckle before shaking his head, "Figures. You probably ordered the mold destroyed, Commander." A turn of his head towards Pepper and he's shaking his head, "Nothing for me, Ensign. Thanks though."

"Sure I do. I tell myself I shouldn't smoke all the time," Zaharis replies to Salin with a slight smirk. He looks back at Regas and Pepper and again makes a gracious 'no thanks' gesture to the latter. "I'm just fine, Ensign, thanks. So Lieutenant Shem?" His eyes flicker to Regas, then back to Pepper. They do have a quick kind of mischief in them, oh boy. "Nice guy…came to you personally for this 'recruiting', eh?"

The Commander's brows now shoot up and the amber liquid in his glass is completely forgotten. "The S2 did what? Sit down, Pepper. You aren't everyone's beck and call girl." He shifts slightly so he can face the young Ensign. "Why are the marines trying to recruit you? And don't leave anything out." He grumps a little like a father ready to find a shotgun. "And stop looking at me like that. "Male admirer's for you, young lady. Your father would have my tail if I didn't keep a sharp eye out."

Pepper studies Regas for a moment, but when he says sit, she sits. With her back absolutely straight (as is pretty much normal for her), she crosses her ankles and tucks them neatly under the chair, hands folding in her lap. "Only because I scared the hell out of him, Sirs," she explains, looking at the Commander. "I reminded him of his meeting tomorrow at 1400 while we were up in CiC, the meeting he didn't realize I'd known about. Following that, he asked me up here for a drink and then proceeded to subtly put me through two observation tests which, apparently, I passed with flying colors." Just the facts, apparently. "I believe he will be asking me for assistance from time to time, when something…suited to my particular skills comes across his desk." Another pause. "And no, Sir. I'm not everyone's beck and call girl, just yours. However, I felt as though you'd be uncomfortable eating alone in front of others. I've been told that "sharing" was not your strong suit in school, and that your teachers despaired of you ever learning the concept." She seems serious enough. "It was more of a chance meeting, Major Zaharis. Luckily, neither of us ran bodily into the other." She sneaks a very brief look at Regas.

Claiming a chair of his own, Salin sits and then his attention is focused, first on Regas and then on Pepper offers an explaination. When she's finished, a soft laugh is offered and he's giving a quick shake of his head, turning his attention back to Regas, "If the S2 gets to steal her, so does JAG. And I'll be evil about it and just bury the S2 so far in paperwork, he won't have time to request her assistance." The lawyer's giving another flash of a smile and it's clear he's kidding. Well, at least about stealing Pepper.

Zaharis looks kind of amused at Regas for a second, but he wipes it off his face. Mostly. "Medical will be gracious and spare you, Ensign. And…ah…" He glances at the Commander and smirks. "We will make extra nurses available should the Commander spontaneously decide that the entire MP unit requires an extra physical."

Regas opens his mouth and it sits there for a few seconds, then the drink is raised up and drank. When that goes down a little harder than he wanted, he simply eyes the Ensign again. "Wrong." Grumblegrumble. "If he wants someone to take notes and shine his shoes, he can pull one from supply." He then stares as something else clicks, "He gave you a WHAT?! For what?!"

Pepper is probably one of the few people who doesn't quail in front of Commander Regas and anything approaching barking. She simply looks at him, brows going up slightly. "Simple observation tests, Commander," she says quietly. "He asked what two lieutenants we passed had been discussing, then asked, once we'd returned to our seats and he'd given me a drink, how many bottles were on a table we'd just passed." A shoulder lifts delicately. "Simple tests. And the extra physicals aren't the problem, Sir," she tells Zaharis, looking sweetly earnest. "It's when they're -complete- physicals. I heard an enlisted officer comment the other day that he was never, ever going to cough again around a doctor. Something about it being an invitation. Of course, the same officer commented that bending over in front of a lawyer," now she turns to Salin. "No offense intended, Sir. Is even more of an invitation." Is she teasing? Maybe. Juuuuust maybe. Possibly. It's hard to tell - she looks so young and enthusiastic.

There's another laugh and Salin's shifting his gaze over towards Zaharis, "She's got you pegg.." He's trailing off as Pepper finishes and for a moment, he looks positively stunned. Then, he's giving another laugh, this one much louder then the last and his hand lifts upwards, making a dismissing motion, "No offense taken, Ensign. Well played, if I may say so." A sidelong glance is offered to Regas and the lawyers lips curl upwards into a grin, "So, what was that about needing to airlock you, Commander?"

Zaharis smirks at Pepper. Really, he looks amused. He sips his tea and doesn't offer comment, raising an eyebrow slightly as he glances at Salin and Regas.

Regas frowns, "He'll think Observation tests by the time I'm done with him." A snort. "Aide help. Ha. I know those young whelps. If he wants your help, he can come to me. No, he can mast up to his own CO." The drink is finished and sat down on the small table nearby. "And as for you, young lady, there will be no working for the Marines. I'll be damned if you are going to be on that deck with those hellions. Hell the frakking Sheriff doesn't even know what gender she/he/it is. I won't have you exposed to it." There. He's Done.

[Intercom] Major Rue, please call 1492. Major Rue, please call 1492.

Pepper's head cants ever so slightly to the side. "So, I'm not even permitted to work along side them," she asks. For anyone else, it'd have been a sly question. On her, well, it's anything but. She actually looks a touch consternated and sighs, quietly. "Which means I can't finish the lessons that nice Marine offered to give me." Her lips purse a little, but then she shakes it off. "I'll let the S2 know your view on things, Commander," she says, deferring, like any good daughter, to the older man's viewpoint. There's something about the way she has her eyes lowered, looking utterly prim and proper. "My apologies, Sir," she tells Salin quietly. "I'm still trying to figure out what he meant. I understood the coughing part." There's a delicate shudder that rolls down her spine.

Zaharis continues looking pretty amused, sipping his tea. Until Regas spouts off about Eli in those last terms, and he sets his cup down. "I'm sure the Marines will get along just fine with what they've got." He looks over at the Commander. "With all due respect, sir. That comment about Sheriff Browne was unnecessary." No, not afraid to say it.

"The frak you will. You stay away from that little two-pip squeak," Regas is suddenly baffled, "What do you mean the lessons that 'nice' marine offered?" A look is shot to Zaharis and the Salin, someone is gonna get a beatin'. The Sheriff reference goes unheeded.

The look on Pepper Peters face is one of utter and complete enthusiastic innocence. She's got that slight wide-eyed thing going on as she leans forward a little in her seat. Think small-town debutante from a very sheltered family. "He promised to teach me some of the new language skills from his home colony," she tells Regas, glancing at the other men for a moment. "And he said something about initiation into the arts. I believe he's a sculptor. He said he works quite a bit with his hands." No, she can't be saying…nah. But…could she? "Commander, the Sheriff is a very unique individual with a similarly unique way of personal expression. Where others choose to strut and crow, the Sheriff chooses to retain an aura of personal mystique. There are some cultures, particularly in the religious sector, that advocate a certain modesty and personal mystique. The essence of a person is simply between themselves and their gods, no one else." Apparently someone's learned her lessons well. "Whichever gender the Sheriff chooses to be is not for us to judge and is a matter between her, her chosen gods and her doctors."

There's a flicker of Salin's eyes to Zaharis and he's giving the Doctor a quick nod of his head. Then, it's back to Regas and Pepper and for the moment and his eyes flit between the two as he takes to just listening and observing.

The Look from Regas doesn't change Zaharis' posture. He glances at Pepper a long moment as though the Ensign had suddenly gained a couple rungs of respect from him, then he looks back at Regas. He'll hold for a second, sure.

It's like the small rumbling of a volcano before it blows. Male. Hands. Arts. AZN! As for the Sheriff, that is still blown by. No, the Commander is only seeing one thing. "I can only imagine what he sculpts." The words practically grind out of his teeth. The footrest slowly gets dropped with a thud as it connects back to the chair and then he is rising up. Raising his hands, he does a precise movement as he begins to rebutton the flap into place.

Pepper looks only a tiny bit alarmed when the Commander begins to rebutton the flap. Ok, her eyes go to about the size of saucers. "This wasn't the S2, Sir," she says slowly. "Another very nice young man I met while on rounds." Ok, now she's uncertain, just a little. "Are we…are sculptors not welcome in the Fleet," she asks, hazarding a guess that's slightly to the left of center. She hasn't looked to Zaharis and Salin, yet. "Marines and Navy seem to be quite tolerant and accepting, Sir. We accept so many different religions and ways of being. I mean, look at the Sheriff. It must be difficult to stand by one's beliefs, but the Sheriff is an example of what that means. In a time when so much seems uncertain, we can hold onto what made us great. Artists aren't bad people, Sir. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a Marine artist. If he can stand the ribbing from his friends and crewmates, well, I think it's delightful that he's willing to share that art." Ok, so it would appear that the kitten DOES have some little claws. Unfortunately, it seems that she's sharpening them on the curtains rather than the cat tree. Oblivious.

Ruh Roh. Salin lifts a brow as Regas begins to rise and he flits a gaze towards Zaharis and then towards Pepper. This is one conversation that the lawyer doesn't seem interested in intruding on … at least not at the moment. Hands clasp together and then his gaze goes back to flickering between those present.

Zaharis doesn't get the rut-roh face. His objection's been expressed, for now, and they're talking about sculpting Marines or something. He hasn't really figured it out. He straightens up as per protocol when Regas buttons that flap back up, folding his hands behind him.

"Ensign Peters, if you are so in need of other things to do, you can certainly take some time in the JAG office," One marine, two marines. At this moment, they are just marines out sniffing around naval personnel who happens to be his aide and ward. His gaze goes to Salin, "I'm certain Major Altair will keep a good eye on you in my absence." Without another word, he is moving for the hatch.

Pepper starts to gather her file folders in a bit of a hurry now that her boss seems to be leaving. Looks like the intent is to keep up with him? "I greatly appreciate the opportunity, Sir," she says quietly, clearly confused. She looks to Salin and Zaharis for help now, eyes pleading with both of them to help her figure this out. Her lower lip disappears between her teeth for a moment. "But I wasn't aware our JAG office provided art lessons during off-duty hours." There. She said it. "Absence, Sir?" Now poor Pepper's scrambling just a little. "I can make sure the files are packed and ready for you within fifteen minutes, Sir. Do you have transport arranged?" Slowly she filters back into confused, but efficient, Pepper-mode.

Ruh Roh times two. Baby-sitting the Commander's Aide is never a good thing. Bad things tend to happen and Salin simply gives his head a slight shake. When Regas turns and begins to leave, Salin slowly lifts himself from the chair and offers a respectful nod towards the Commander, "With due respect, Sir, I wouldn't want to take the Ensign away from you. I know how valuable she is to yourself and the Colonel." Nope. She's getting no help from the lawyer on this one.

Zaharis is pretty sure 'absence' means 'Marine ass-chewing' but he doesn't toss that out. One brow's just slightly raised. Alrighty, then.

Regas pauses at the hatch with a slightly flustered look. He's a Commander, not a wetnurse. Hearing Salin, he nods, "Very well. She is busy enough." Another glance is given to Pepper, "Report to the Aerospace division and get the reports from Major Carter. That should keep you out of trouble for awhile. And then you can go have a nice chit chat with Lt. Sloane about Men and their Arts. Until then, there will be no more talking of this after hours sculpting. Is that understood?"

Everyone present can see the -exact- moment when Ensign Pepper Peters, the officer devoted to Commander Regas and Pepper Peters, independent woman and officer in her own right meet head to head. If her spine got any straighter, it would crack. She simply goes still and studies Regas then dips her head, once. "Aye, Commander," she says in a very low, very quiet voice. Many men know that Look on her face. It's the one that usually precedes salt in the coffee and super-starched boxer shorts.

Another bow of Salin's head is offered towards Regas and then he's looking over towards Pepper, giving her a quick, reassuring smile. Then, it's over towards Zaharis and the lawyer lifts a hand, making a beckoning motion, "I'm going to steal away to finish up some paperwork. You know where to find me."

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