Lies, Damned Lies, and Uncle Stu
Lies, Damned Lies, and Uncle Stu
Summary: Orion convinces Pepper to let Sloane take her out… possibly against her better judgement.
Date: 59 ACH
Related Logs: Pimp My Cornbread
Players:
Pepper..Orion..

Orion is seated, staring out at the stars. What more could a man ask for, really? A beautiful view, a plate of… ugh. Eels. The ragtag survivors of… you know, let's just stop at the beautiful view. There he is, looking out into into the stars. There's a slight frown on his face, but that's not extraordinary these days.

Pepper slips into Obs, carrying a small stack of file folders with her, a pen tucked behind one ear. The top file is open and being perused as she walks. Sadly, Pep moves as if she's on autopilot, though manages to, you know, not hit anything. Or anyone. Finally, though, she settles herself into a cushioned chair with a quiet sigh.

Orion is a man with things on his mind, apparently. He gets a glance at you, smiles privately, and simply says, "Good place to sit and think, ain't it?" Otherwise he's just concerning himself with eel… and trying not to think about coffee.

Pep's head pops up and she blinks at the pilot for a moment before smiling. "Think? Who gets time to do that," she asks, smile turning wry. "I come up here to work, because it's the last place the Commander would think to look for me. My storage closet got filled with overflow survivors."

"Better off too busy to think, let me tell ya." Orion laughs low, leaning back into his chair and keeping his eyes on the stars, not Pepper. He's silent for a moment, "Why's the commander looking for you?" He glances at you, looking for an indication of what you do here while also, coincidentally, attempting to check you out, something you may or may not notice.

Pepper glances back down at her file folder, sliding the pen out from behind her ear. "Aide to the Commander and Colonel," she says with a quirk of her lips. "I'm the one who keeps their schedules, even though I'm trying to get them to use a proper system. If I'm easily found, the Commander will only half-heartedly use the system. If I disappear once in awhile, he'll come to depend on the system, which means a switch in Aides won't cripple him." See, all very easy.

"Oof." Orion cringes a bit, "Oh my gods if that ain't the best or the absolute worst job available to a fella on this ship. I tell you it's either one -or- the other." He chuckles at that, "So you're… what? How far does -that- one go? I reckon I'd be scared to get my ass outta bed if my duties were shaped like that?" After a pause, the man makes a mock accusational question, "You don't have to handle their laundry too, do you?"

She just laughs quietly at that. "No," she says. "Not personally, but I make sure it gets done," Pep says softly. When she looks up, there's a soft smile on her lips, one that indicates she'd be thrilled to do the Commander's laundry if he asked. There's something incredibly soft in her eyes when she speaks about him. "It's actually an excellent billet," she says with a slight shrug. "Who better to learn about command from than the best? I have two incredible teachers, three if you include the JAG, to learn from."

"Too rich for my blood." He snickers a bit, shuffling his eel around in his tray. "Takes up all of your time? I mean… you get out much like that? Not that I'm sayin' you sound sound like you do, buuut…" Orion cackles, "Job like that sounds like it'd just… it's on call 24/7, they need you. You might could step out for a bit, but… or is it not at all like that?"

Blue eyes find his face again, a brow arching delicately. "I get leave once in awhile, like any other officer," she says slowly, studying the man seated a bit away from her. "I'm on call 24/7, yes, but the Commander and Colonel are rather protective of my private time and respect that I need some." Perhaps there's something else there, but she's not eludicating.

Brown eyes find yours, in return. The young man wordlessly testing the waters, "They're a good couple of guys. What we've got here is.. stress." Orion nods his head once or twice while stating the blatantly obvious, though it's heartfelt. "High, high stress. Can you -imagine- being in charge of of this ball of wax? Maaan." He exhales, "What a -mindjob-."

While she's curious, there's a wariness in her eyes as she studies Orion. It's not quite clear, open suspicion, but there's certainly caution there. "At this point in time," she says mildly. "Yes. Especially for leaders who are as hands on as ours are." Not mine, ours. She's stepping carefully, though.

Orion backs off a bit, nodding a couple of times, "Respect. You know, I'm a viper driver. Got caught on the Carina for R&R before all this shit went down. Paperwork went nuts in the aftermath… kept me there for two dang -months-, if you can believe that. Spent all that time thinking, 'shit, boy. You got yourself the most stressed out job on the planet'. Had to think about it a while 'fore I realized I was a damned fool. Whole 'nother level out there."

Pepper nods slowly, leaning back in her seat a little, getting comfortable. "Though, no one person's stress is any better, worse, more or less than anyone else's," Pep points out quietly. "We're all under intense pressure, whether civilian or military, pilot or CO. It's just part of our lives right now." The file gets closed once conversation seems to be happening.

"Yeah. Could say that. Some of the civvies done got their heads in the clouds, though. Met one gal on the Carina who was…" Orion turns to you and lowers his voice down to a mutter, as if he were saying something dreadful, "WOrrying about getting her legs waxed and her nails done." He snorts, "Shit you not. Wanted me to be her bagboy or something, like this is Caprica City or something. That's… lemme tell ya. That's some coping mechanism."

Pep's smile turns a little wistful at that. "I haven't had my nails done since the day before I went into the Academy," she murmurs, but then nods. "It's a coping mechanism, for sure. When everything else is gone, we tend to cling to what we know, what's familiar."

"Yeah, ya see…" Orion 'assumes the position'… extending his hands and widening the gaps between his fingertips as if showing off a manicure himself, "I used to get it with a pretty little white stripe at the tip, with a thinner black strip right over that?" He continues, grinning, "Then I had that glaze thing done and it was -just- the purdiest little thing you ever did see? Don't get that no more."

Ok, now she's caught between smiling and backing the hell away to scamper down the hall to find Eve. "That's probably a good thing," she says, lips pursing slightly. "Damned waste of a good french manicure." She holds her files just a LITTLE bit tighter. She's not looking at him like he's a serial killer - yet. But he is getting a very odd look.

Orion raises an eyebrow at you, "You, ah… you know I was just kidding, right? I done had two sisters in my family and more distants at the family ranch than I ever did count and they used to do all sorts of things with their nails… Artemis bless 'em wherever they are right now. But…" He leans in a bit closer. Story time. "They snuck into my Uncle Stu's bedroom this one midsummer morn and done gave him a pretty pink pedicure. See.. Uncle Stu was a cattle rancher. Like… real deal, hardcore type. Sort that'd sooner spit than salute. And them girls just decided that was too much man for one man and had to take him down a notch."

Ok, that's enough to make the poor Ensign relax - just a little. She's studying Orion as if he were a Cylon who just sat down and announced he wanted tea and cakes - there's curiosity mingled with definitive wariness. She's even gone a little wide-eyed. The poor woman isn't quite ready to flee, yet, but she looks as though the fight or flight instinct is kicking in and might possibly send her over the -back- of the chair. "What did he do," she asks finally.

"Well… nothing!" Orion grins, "Least, nothing at first. See, that line of work, you just get used to dust and dirt all the time. Ain't never imagined how a guy could do it, but he did. So Ol' Stu.. he really wasn't in the practice of looking down at his feet. Typical day was, he'd wake up, eat breakfast, hit the ranch, do at least ten things more by the morning as I did all afternoon, get through his whole day like that… then he'd just hose off in a stream and hit the hay. Fella didn't even notice until we went swimming."

She can't help but smile a little at that, shaking her head. She looks distantly bemused. "Hopefully he enjoyed it," she murmurs.

Orion responds as if letting you in on a secret. He cuts the air with his hand, "*Shrieked* like a woman. And my sisters just wouldn't stop laughing. So… I'm still new around here. Fitting in best I can. Given the circumstances, I mean. We got much for fun around here? I used to live on the Carina and they always assumed all the -real- fun was up on Genesis."

Pep's eyes crinkle a little at the corners as he shares that little tidbit, and she relaxes enough to laugh quietly. "I imagine it WAS a bit of a surprise for him," she comments quietly. "As for fun, not much that I'm aware of - though I keep relatively occupied with the essentials like work and sleep. How long have you been aboard?"

Orion holds up two fingers. Yes. He's playing up the 'cowboy' angle a bit at this point. Anyone who knows him would probably snicker a bit, but he's not around anyone who knows him. "Two weeks. Been a hell of a rocky two weeks, but I'd rather be here, doing something than there, sitting on my hands and begging Artemis to watch over us."

She dips her head, once, in understanding. "As near as I can tell, there are a few card games in the berthings, working out, drinking down on the Carina, a little dancing down there as well. Destiny's recently with us, and she was a pleasure ship, from what I understand. So, I suppose there's rather a lot."

"Destiny." Orion nods his head in recognition, "You been there yet? I was flying air patrol when we picked them up. I heard it was a real good time."

Pepper shakes her head slightly, smiling a bit. "No, but I've heard a little about the nightclub and water park," she says with a soft laugh. "Just imagining those two things makes me grin."

"And you ain't been there yet? You said the old man makes sure you've got time for yourself. Hey…" Here we go. The payoff. He points an index finger at you, "You know:" And then a pause for mock consideration, "I got a -real- good friend of mine. Great guy. Bit introspective for my tastes, though. Quiet, smart, considerate. -Ever- so shy around the ladyfolk, though." No. He doesn't actually say 'ladyfolk' in day to day speech. That's a bit much even for him, but he's playing up an image. "Could probably do him a world of good if you'd check the place out with him. I mean, not for anything serious. Just for kicks. Not sure if he'd be up for it, though."

And Pepper just stares at the man again. Her thoughts are damn near written on her face. She's trying to figure out if this guy's for real, and if he is, what the frak is going on. "I…see," she says quietly. "A friend." The idea is rolling over in her mind and she's looking fairly dubious.

Amusement is what you get in response, "No, really. Name's Antonio. He flies strike craft in defense of the fleet, but he's terrible at meeting women. Real mild. Polite. He's been a bit under the weather and a fun time offshore would probably do him wonders."

Pep just watches him for a time, brows pulling together. "So, let me get this straight. You're trying to set me up to go out to a pleasure ship with a friend of yours, a friend you've known two weeks, a friend who's sick?" It's as though she's trying to make sure she's got all the angles covered.

"Wrong kind of sick. He's a little down… and he was stuck on the Carina, too. Known this guy a -bit- longer than two weeks." Orion laughs a bit. Meanwhile he can all but see the heads up display as he tries to steer this in for a landing. "He could use a little cheering up and you seem like his type. You got much to lose?"

Pepper's lips twitch just a little. She's not giving in, not yet. The choke is going to give him a bit of issue and the hook's not quite in place. "He could use a little cheering and I seem like his type," she repeats, consideringly. "I think this has to be the absolute worst proposition I've ever been given." Of course, that's said with a hint of wonder in her tone.

Orion sets his tray down to one side. It's gone cold at this point, which is likely to be big trouble for him later on. He folds his arms over his chest and regards you casually, "Why?"

"I'm not sure whether you're complimenting me by trying to set me up with your friend or insulting your friend by trying to set him up with me," she says quietly. "First of all, you don't even -know- me well enough to try to set me up with him. If he's that much of a friend, you'd want the best possible person for the job, and you don't me well enough to know that about me. Which leaves the alternative that you're just trying to get him laid, think he's desperate, and the first single female, maybe not even single, will do. I feel like I'm being pimped out as female companionship. Do I ask for my fee up front, or request that he donate it to Aphrodite's temple?" There's wry amusement in her tone as she studies Orion.

Orion doesn't answer any of your questions, instead he asks, "You, uh, mind if I ask you a personal question?"

A brow goes up slightly and her lips twitch. "Since I'm not sure what you'd do if I said yes," she says quietly. "Go ahead and ask."

Orion shrugs, seeming to relax a bit. If he was 'on' before, he's 'off' now. He points an index finger at you, "Tell me about the last guy you went out with."

She blinks at him for a moment. "Major Altair," she says quietly. "Colonial Day. Very nice, he was a gentleman. We went shopping beforehand so I'd have something pretty to wear, then he took me to dinner."

Orion nods a couple of times, "You, uh… I notice your pins there, Ensign. Tell me about the last guy you went out with you could potentially get serious with if you really wanted to."

Pep's brows go up at that, both of them. "I could quite potentially get serious with Major Altair," she says quietly, primly. "We're not in the same chain of command and we're both officers. There's nothing preventing us from a relationship." Her head tilts a little. "And no, he's NOT too old for me." But rather than seem offended, she seems amused, as if she's warming up a little.

"You know… honest truth is? This friend of mine really ain't looking to get laid as much as he's just lonely. Wants to meet someone. But I mean… if you only date Majors you've known for a long time…" Orion laughs a little at that one, "Hey. Not much a fella like him can do about that. Out of his league."

"Who said anything about dating," Pep says with a wry little smile - and a blush. "You asked about the last guy I went out with and I told you. Also, I'm not sure where you got that I've known Major Altair a long time." Yep, she's been taking lessons. "Tell you what, I'd be happy to go over to Destiny with him. I'd like to see it and wasn't looking forward to going alone."

"You're the one who's making such a damned fuss about how long I've known him, getting the perfect fit, making sure you've got matching dishware or whatever it is you were saying." Orion all but giggles. "I'm honestly surprised you said Colonial Day. I had it figured you were gonna give me some date two or three years ago or something. K. Tell you what. How's Friday, 2000 hours… and what -is- your name, by the by?" He pulls a pencil out of his pocket and a piece of paper.

"Mmmm," she murmurs, utterly bemused now. "Ensign Pepper Peters." Pepper Peters. Regas' aide. And his adopted daughter. Poor Orion. "2000 on Friday sounds delightful. And who am I meeting again?"

"Glad to make your aquaintance, Peters. I'm Ensign Orion Scala and your escort for the evening will beee… one Ensign Antonio Sloane. I'll ask him to give you a call or something, so it don't have to be blind or nothing."

At that, Pepper just blinks at him, owlishly, then bursts out in quiet laughter, one hand covering her mouth. "We've met," she gets out after a moment. "We had dinner last night."

Orion points a finger at you, "You're shitting me. You met him already. Well, I guess that makes it easier. Then you know what I'm saying, right? Nice guy. A little quiet?"

Pepper laughs quietly and nods. "We did meet, and he was rather talkative," she says with a lifted shoulder. "We actually had a really nice time. I did, at least."

Orion smirks, "Ain't even blind. What is there, 100 officers on this ship? I go and meet one he's already met. Well, looks like it's a date! Or an outing. Or whatever keeps you comfy." He thumbs at you and speaks like he just sold you a car, "You've made a the right choice."

Pepper just eyes him for a long moment, and then she can't help but start laughing, she really can't. "You really need to run for office at some point in time," she tells him, smile warming. "It's an -outing-. And one I am…" She hesitates and, for a second, there's a shadow in her eyes. "Well, I'm looking forward to it."

Orion tries to hold it in, but fails. The snort reeks of stifled laughter. He has to bring his hand to his face to hold it in, "Okay, okay. I'm glad we had this talk. One of us owes the other a hundred cubits for therapy, and I don't know which." He picks up his tray and stands, "See you around, Peters."

Pepper dips her head to him, though says nothing, merely watches him leave with a small, baffled smile on her lips. As he goes, the blush starts, and she reaches up to cool her cheeks with her fingertips before opening her file once again.

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