Making Peace
Making Peace
Summary: In berthings some vulgar humour goes awry with Eve, and Zaharis later asks Rhea about part of her past.
Date: 25 ACH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Eve..Zaharis..Rhea..

Naval Officer Berthings Genesis - Deck 12
25 ACH 6735 Souls


Naval Officer berthings are setup with bunks on either side of the area. Each bunk holds two Officers and lockers are between the bunks for their personal items. A table sits in the center of the room with six chairs around it for use in recreation or studying. There is also a shower and changing room off this area.


Zaharis is sitting at the centre table, wearing his off-duties. He flips slowly through a medical journal lying on the table in front of him, reading an article that he's already marked up quite a bit with a pencil in the margins.

Eve wanders in, presumeably just finishing her shift on duty, a she's plucking at the buttons of her outter shirt to shuck it off. A yawn splits her lips unstiffled as she ambles towards her bunk, with a, "Major," whining out on the tail end of it.

Zaharis looks up from the long page of text without moving his head, his cheek braced against a hand. "Sloan. Didn't find the Carina's magical stash of rejuvenation pills, I see."

Eve tugs open the curtains to her bunk, the fabric skittering along the recessed rails, "Not all shore leave is about getting rest and relaxation." The doctor smirks, in almost inner reflection, peeling off her duty shirt before deligently folding it. "Just tired, is all. Full day." She bends, picking up something that was left on her bunk. A book. Reading the title of the trashy novel, she smirks and tosses it towards her pillow. "Thank you, Rhea." She mutters, before turning to sit on the edge of the mattress. "Whatcha reading there, boss?"

"Didn't say anything about rest and relaxation." Zaharis glances down at the page number before closing the journal and picking up his cigarette pack. "Old medical journal. Amazing how information falls out your ears. Have to jam it back in every so often." Lighting up, the smoke curls gently upwards into a large ring.

Eve leans down, starting the drill of unlacing her boots. "Touche." She says quietly, to his observation. Fingers pluck at the double knot in the black cording, trying to work it free. "It was enough." She says quietly of her leave, before a smile forms fully on her lips. "Thankfully medical texts don't count againt our personal weight allowances. My shelves in the office are stuffed full of things I keep meaning to reread." And yet she's trading romance novels with ChEng.

"You'll get to them if you mean to." Zaharis taps the cigarette against the flimsy piece of metal that passes for an ashtray.

Eve's eyes flick up, merely watching the movements of Zaharis smoking for a moment before adding, "Who's the shrink here?" With a soft chuck of laughter. Boots are worked off one at a time, and tucked underneath her bunk.

Zaharis smirks at that. "I'm older than you, I'm allowed to be pedantic on occasion." He kicks his medical bag out from under his chair and digs into it, finding a green apple that he'd stolen from the cafeteria, plus a knife. "You want some apple?"

Eve reaches behind her, pulling out a plate with cellophane wrap on it. Its that piece of pie Zaharis squirreled away for her, minus about a third of it she's slivered off. "If you share, I'll share." She offers, slipping to her feet and padding across the decking in stocking feet.

"Feel like I'm back at uni, sneaking food." Zaharis smirks, setting the apple on the table. Knife set in the middle, he pushes down on it with both hands until it slices the fruit cleanly through, the halves left rocking on the tabletop. He picks one up and reaches over to put it by the chair she's headed to, then gets his cigarette from the ashtray. "Jam up the door bottom with a wet towel and it'd be complete."

Eve pulls off the plastic wrap, not bothering to worry about its integrity. Likely she means to finish off the last of it with the Major, and thusly won't need to rewrap it for later. Its balled up in a fist, as she slides the plate between them on the table, and sinks into a chair next to him, instead of opposite. "With the addition of a few more room mates, I imagine. No hanging a necktie on the door handle to signify intent around here. May I?" She asks, hand held out for the knife.

Zaharis hands over the utensil handle-first. "Have you tried it? Roubanis really knew what he was doing." His half of the apple stays where it is for now, as he works on his cigarette.

Eve slides the knife through the pie, bisecting it despite his words. "I did. Classified as sinful. Its why I was partitioning it off. I just hope his talent can be transferred to eels." Still wielding the knife, she picks up the half of apple Zaharis designated for her, using the blade to slice off a sliver by levering the apple between knife and a press of her thumb. Her smile eventually eases off her features, her features softening.

"Yeah, maybe." Zaharis takes a drag off the smoke, sitting back. "Unless he's only a maestro with desserts. I don't think the ship's quite ready yet for eelberry shortcake."

[Intercom] Lieutenant Sloan, call box 1291. Lieutenant Sloan, call box 1291.

Eve is about to open up her mouth, no doubt to impart some witty reply that may in fact reveal more about the Lieutenant than any others have dared to know, but then her name is coming across the intercom system and she frowns. At least one piece of apple is tucked in her mouth before she stands, mumbling an 'excuse me' to the Major before the knife is thrust into the remaining piece of fruit and she moves off to the console to respond. "Lieutenant Sloan."

Zaharis is used to this kind of thing. He stubs out his cigarette and picks up his own apple half, biting into it. The journal's flipped open again for the time being, though to some random page that he starts skimming over.

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "Lieutenant Sloan."

Eve chews quietly while waiting for the other party, a quizzical expression crosing her features as she replies.

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "Good enough, El Tee. What can I do for you?"

Zaharis has his attention down on the journal and his apple half, turning a page with his thumb.

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "Yes of course. I'll come up and speak to you directly, if its pressing."

Eve's eyes filter shut, pinching the bridge of her nose as she responds.

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "Certainly. I'm back on duty in twelve hours, feel free to pass the names off to the nurses and I'll see to them, or I can report to the Marine offices in the morning."

Crunch. More apple. Zaharis pulls his ankle up over his knee, resting the journal down on his leg as he continues to skim the text. He doesn't look towards the wireless at all.

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "There is a certain matter of privacy, Lieutenant. If no other arrangements can be made, I can certainly work around the situation."

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "One Four Nine Two."

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "You're quite welcome, Lieutenant Shem, but its my job. No thanks are necessary."

[Into the Wireless] Eve says, "You too. Lieutenant Sloan Out."

Zaharis is still there, of course, flipping away. The CMO's been eating around the apple in manner possibly just to amuse himself. His teeth have left a neat scalloped pattern in a long line around the green side.

Eve is all a little too happy to get off the call, a slow breath released to relieve some tension from her frame. It takes her a moment or two, just standing over there, before she finally meanders back to the table and sinks back into a chair. "Now then." She reaches for her own half of fruit, smiling just a hint when she notices how he nibbles.

Zaharis glanced up at the sound of the clicking by the wireless set. He bites off one of the sections of apple that his teeth trail has left hanging, chewing on it until she's gotten comfortable again. "You're a very tense person, Sloan," he observes, not unkindly.

Eve presses her lips into a thin line for just a spare moment, as she composes a thought, filters it, then lets it past her lips. "I've come to expect the worst from pages like that. How many times do you get paged for a triad game, instead of a broken bone or bloodied crewman?" There's a twice of a sad slice of smile, before she mumbles an apology and removes the knife from the apple, slivering off pieces as opposed to the bites he takes directly from the fruit.

Zaharis takes another bite off the top of the apple. The scalloping has left the remaining fruit flesh in handy little sections. "What are you sorry for?" He asks, curiously.

Eve pauses with a bite of fruit poised on the edge of the knife, waiting to be taken. She looks aside to Zaharis for a moment as she answers. "Just a momentary lapse in my good graces. Thank you for the apple, its delicious." The piece is plucked off the blade by her teeth, pulling it within the confines of her mouth to chew quietly.

"If that was a lapse so bad it required an apology," Zaharis says, sounding rather amused, "You're on the fast track to sainthood. Save your apologies for when you really mean them. Else it loses its meaning, you know?" He glances at the apple, turning it over. "It is a good one. Wish we had peanut butter."

Eve doesn't comment on the need for apology, anything else will trivialize it further. Instead, she merely reaches out to drag the plate closer to him. "We have pie." She offers, as if that's a suitable substitute. Her attention drops once more to the apple and knife in hand, likely needing her full concentration lest she slice off her own finger instead.

Zaharis looks at the pie plate for a second, then at the apple in his hand. He makes a kind of 'oh why not?' face and smushes the apple right into the gooey chocolate, scooping a fair bit up and then crunching down on that together. "Hmm…"

Rhea comes in from Corridor 12C.
Rhea has arrived.

Eve is seated at the center table with Zaharis, the latter currently combining pie and an apple together in an effort to either make one healthier, or the other less so. Eve's wielding a knife, cutting off slivers of her her half of the green fruit, and eating it slowly as if to preserve it. "What's the verdict?" She asks Zaharis, her tone light, though her demeanor is decidedly not so.

"Chocolate apple, I approve." Zaharis is quite attentive to people's states, and as Eve is decidedly not being light he doesn't say any more than that. He finishes off the apple down to its half-core, he sets it aside and rubs his hands together.

Rhea strides into the berthing. Coming off duty. She unbuttons her jacket, stretching, trying to work the kinks of the day out of her muscles. "Doctor Sloan. Doctor Zaharis." She grins over the medical pair. "Did you find more pie?" She is intrigued.

Eve raises her gaze, stilling her movements with the knife so as to not need medical attention herself. A smile is offered to Rhea, but its lacking some of the usual zeal the psyche puts into the facial expression. "Saved the last piece for you." Indeed, there were two small portions on the plate, one unmangled by Zaharis' pie-apple experiment. Eve reaches out to nudge the last in Rhea's general direction.

"Everyone's so determined to foist this pie off on other people," Zaharis smirks at Rhea. "If I didn't know better I'd start thinking everyone secretly hated it." He reaches over for his cigarettes, his T-shirt sleeve briefly pulling back to show part of a band of black tattoo lettering and the bottom edge of a very old scar.

"Seriously? You're an officer and a gentlewoman, Lieutenant," Rhea says, heading over to the table to claim her pie. She gets a fork and digs right in. Smirking back at Zaharis. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Jesse. Look." She scarfs some, chewing it pointedly. "Oh, Lieutenant, by the way. Thanks for the book. I'll have it back to you next week, I think. I'm skipping the parts where people're fully clothed. Saves time." Her eyes go to Zaharis' arm but she doesn't comment.

Eve reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear that has some how weaseled out of the tight twist she keeps it in. "No rush. I've read that one a dozen times myself. Hope you don't expect the return that fast. I like to take my time." At least she has the presence of mind to laugh at herself, just a quick nervous sort of twitter as her eyes stray to Zaharis' arm as well. Great. Yes. Flash bicep to two women talking about trash novels. "I ate my share." She tells the CMO, before eyes drop once more to her apple in hand.

Zaharis doesn't exactly have romance-novel biceps. He's a doctor, not a Marine. Fishing out a cigarette he suddenly looks between the two of them. Suspiciously. "Are you…trading bodice rippers?"

Rhea laughs, a full-bodied chuckle on her part. Nothing nervous about it. "Take your time, Lieutenant. I've got a full collection to keep me warm at night." She shows little interest in Zaharis' biceps, beyond a gander at the scar and tattoo. His question makes her laugh again. "The preferred term is literature of the romantic genre, Doctor Zaharis," the ChEng says primly. Prim doesn't suit her.

Eve is concentrating desperately hard on eating that apple. Really. Its consuming. There is a hint of a smirk on her lips, "Purely research." She offers, in lieu of any further explanation.

"Really?" Zaharis aims that at the two of them, both his dark eyes quirking upwards. His voice deepens dramatically. "It was a dark and horny night. His chest was her pillow, and oh, did she drool…she had felt /swept away/ by this dark stranger, a helpless dust bunny in the roaring cacophony of his gas-powered leaf blower."

Rhea snorts as to the research bit. And at Zaharis' recitation. "Have you been borrowing my Tides of Love without asking? You quote it beautifully," she says wryly. Munching on her pie some more. "Relax, Lieutenant. Jesse's just being a prick. No pun intended. Like I told you before, there's no shame in having a healthy fantasy life. Far less messy than the alternatives."

Eve rolls her shoulders. "I'm relaxed." Which sounds just a bit too defensive, really, and she likely hears the note of it in her own voice and frowns pointedly. With a sigh, she settles back in her chair, finally glancing back to the pair of them. Letting the entire situation sink in, she can't help but let a smile creep back onto her features. "Leaf blower, huh?"

"Oh how you hurt me, Rhea," Zaharis says, deadpan. "If I had a heart, it would be crushed…" He switches a breathier voice, giving her a perfect set of doe eyes with those big browns. "…like a little butterfly…smashed against the windshield of your speeding Porsche of cruelty."

Rhea smirks. "Leaf blower? Was that euphemism, Jesse? I'm such an innocent creature. Could you explain what exactly you mean by that?" She flutters her eyelashes at him, smirking some more.

Eve pinches one eye shut, "This is going to end badly." Doesn't mean she's not going to stay seated right there in the first row so she can be witness to it. Research purposes, of course. Chalk it up to behavioral studies. She waves her hand in the universally accepted way of 'Please. Continue.'

"I'm sorry, would a vacuum cleaner have been more accurate?" Zaharis asks, with the same tone as Rhea. "I am but an innocent and pure soul when it comes to these fragile specimens, these…'females'."

Rhea smacks her lips at Zaharis in a not-terribly fragile way, laughing some more. Though a glance at Eve makes her look somewhat abashed. "I think we're embarrassing the shrink with our vulgarity," she says. "Forgive us, Doctor Sloan. Jesse and I go way back, and the years have sort of worn away any modesty."

Eve is down to the last of her apple, and so now the knife is merely carving out a square around her half of the core. "Actually, I was just reflecting on how decidedly…refreshing it is. No embarrassment on my behalf. Trust me, I've heard worse." When you tend to be the sounding board for people's deepest and darkest, vulgar is the least of your problems.

Zaharis gives Rhea a 'see, nyah' sort of look. "Well, I'll not bring anything worse to your doorstep, Sloan. I promise." He smirks, finally lighting the cigarette and nodding to Rhea's plate. "Pie still good?"

"Very," Rhea says, as she works her way through her pie. "I was wondering how it tasted. It doesn't disappoint." She nods to Eve. "I'll bet you have. Especially these days. I also promise not to traumatize you with anything worse than this, Lieutenant."

Eve gets that momentaryily pinched look to her face, the kind people get when they are mentally cursing at themselves. It takes a moment to iron out the wrinkles, as she pushes back from the table. "Nonsense. That's what I'm there for. You'll…you'll both excuse me?" Is said, followed by a clearing of her throat as if trying to stamp down any emotion from her voice.

Zaharis hmms? He exhales a little smoke and looks over at Eve for a second before he waves a hand. "Relax, El-tee. We're joking with you. You're one of the best people on my staff."

Rhea gives Eve a sidelong look. "Of course, Lieutenant. I hope our company wasn't too painful for you." It's said with a grin, though she sounds faintly concerned. About Eve's pinched look, anyway. She smiles. "Enjoy the book. I dog-eared the good parts for you."

Eve takes her bit of core, palming it. The blade of the knife is wiped on her pants, and set down unobtrusively for Zaharis to take later. "And I mean to stay that way." Which means she has to remain objective. "Thank you." Is offered quietly to Rhea. She can't go far, not in her stocking feet, so she's padding back to her bunk.

Zaharis doesn't follow Eve, though there's a brief look on his face as he looks at her back. Time to schedule a meeting. He brushes some pie crumbs off the table into his hand, reaching over to dump them in one of the small waste bins by the table.

Rhea offers a parting nod to Eve as she finishes her pie. She doesn't move from the table, either. She's still got crumbs she can nibble away.

Eve quietly slips on boots, leaving them unlaced and not bothering with arranging her pants' legs back into them. She reaches deep into the recesses of her bunk, grabbing a spiraled notebook and then she's headed out of the bunks. On her way, a smile is offered to them both and a nod of parting.

Zaharis taps ash off his cigarette and lifts his chin as Eve goes by. "Have a good one, Lieutenant."

Eve leaves for Corridor 12C [O].
Eve has left.

"This really is good," Rhea says, her mouth still half-full of pie. She chews. Mopping up what few crumbs remain with her fork. "Lieutenant ate some herself, I hope? That woman must need an outlet, given what she has to put up with all day."

"Who doesn't." Zaharis reaches over and presses his fingertip down on some crumbs, bringing that to his mouth. "People have to take care of themselves, seek outlets where they can find them."

"True enough, that," Rhea agrees wryly. On both counts. She licks her crumbs off her fork, looking down for anything else she can scarf. She's pretty much cleaned all traces of pie from her plate. "How're you doing with that? Any outlet tips, if nothing else?"

Zaharis shrugs one shoulder, stubbing out his cigarette. "Don't use circumstance as a band-aid, I would say. People are determined to be martyrs up here. Life doesn't work that way."

"I've never been good at the martyr thing. Every time I've tried it's just managed to frak things up far worse," Rhea says.

"Martyrdom tends to do that." Zaharis folds his arms and looks at Rhea's face with a slight smile. "But we're all human and we all make mistakes."

"So I'm constantly reminded these days," Rhea says, smiling back. "Not that I couldn't use a little more humility. Listen, I wanted to thank you. For everything you're doing with Reece. It helps, I think. I think you're easier to talk to than I am in some respects, right now."

"It's okay. All maturity jokes aside, I was his age once." Zaharis absently scratches at the bottom of that scar, then lets his arms fold on the table again. "You know it's not a reflection on you, right? Reece being able to talk, I mean."

"I know," Rhea says with a little nod. It doesn't bother her, too much. And she does look honestly more glad than anything else. "I'm his mother. He's passed the age where he's going to come to me with everything. And, maturity jokes aside, you are like family to him. Family he has a little distance from. I'm grateful for it."

"Even promise I'll ease up on the corruption attempts for a while." Zaharis smiles a little. "But no, really. You know I'm glad to do it…you know I want to. I think it's helping him to have some things to do over there."

Rhea smiles, shaking her head. "If all he picks up are your bad habits, I won't freak out too much. The smoking aside." She regards him. "I'm just joking when I say that. You know that, right? You've been good for Reece. Now more than ever. And, yeah. I'm glad he has some projects to put his hands on. Major Altair still owes me a frakking school. But, that's more a problem for the Carina kids than mine, I guess. Reece's brain won't atrophy on the PAS."

"Nah, it won't." Zaharis shakes his head slightly to that. "And I'm sure Salin'll get on it. Give him a little time. I'll try and work with Reece on some academic stuff where I can, and where he's willing. Maybe working out math problems will give him a small outlet as well, I don't know."

"Reed told me Salin's managed to get a courthouse up and running already," Rhea says dryly. "That says something about our society right there. Everything frakking destroyed, the first thing we build is a jail." She seems to bite her tongue, to stop from saying anymore. "Well. I'm sure he has the right idea. I'm not a legal mind. And my childhood prejudices are getting the better of me, there." The offers gets another smile. "Reece's always been good at math. Yeah. That'd be good."

"I can't say I disagree with Salin, Rhea," Zaharis shrugs slightly. "A justice system makes people feel safe. More secure, more like they're being protected. Gives them boundaries, and that's comforting. Honestly where the school is concerned, it should be the task of a civilian with the balls to be pro-active about it."

"A justice systems does that, maybe. At best. Holding cells just make people feel like they need to be protected from themselves." Rhea shrugs. "Maybe you're right. Salin seems like a fair man. Maybe he'll build it right. I just…I hope those people get more than rules they have to follow. It's not enough to tell people what they can't do. There's got to be some *life* to get on with, too."

"Can't have a justice system without punishment. And, well. People do kind of need to be protected from themselves." Zaharis scratches the side of his neck. "Rules are frameworks. It's a rough balance. Too few and people panic. Too many and they're suffocated. But life goes on regardless. People can't sit and wait for others to provide it for them."

"The whole thing just makes me think. About Sagittaron. About my brother…" Rhea shakes her head. "Blinded by my past, I guess. Wiser heads than mine will work it all out, I'm sure. Salin's honest, he means well, maybe that'll be enough. Reece is as good as he can be right now, where he is. I can provide for him. The other parents on the Carina will have do to the same."

"Most of life is in our own hands," Zaharis offers, with a slight shrug, then he falls silent a moment. "You never told me a whole lot about your brother."

Rhea smirks. "Ray was…part of me I wanted to leave behind," she says softly. She can't help but sound a little ashamed now. "He was my half-brother, actually. Five years older. He stayed with my dad and me after my mom left, though. He never knew who his real father was. My dad tried but…Ray was angry. Frak, we were both angry. He was stronger than me, in some ways. I ran away from all that. He stayed."

Zaharis nods once. "He was in trouble with the law?" It's a guess, but the CMO sounds fairly confident about it.

Rhea gets a wry chuckle out of that. "Pretty much from the time he took his training wheels off. Jesse, in our neighborhood there weren't a lot of boys past thirteen who hadn't seen the inside of a holding cell. It was petty shit. Tagging. Some burglary and assault charges. He met guys who were in gangs while he was in juvi. He met people who were involved in worse stuff when he went to prison."

As she explains about her neighbourhood Zaharis' eyes flicker a little, but he keeps looking at her. A slight nod when she finishes. "And he ended up involved with them?"

Rhea nods, eyes faraway as she talks. "Aera Cura was a big smuggling town. He got involved with drug runners, pirates. He did time for it. It's funny, though. That's not what they *really* slapped him for. Some of the friends he made had actual ideals. Can't say I agreed with all of them but…there were a lot of things wrong with the way the government worked on Sagittaron. There was this demonstration at one of the food distribution sites. Ray ended up punching a cop." She smirks. "Some of the people he was with were stupider. The offices got torched. A lot of people were injured, one of the bureaucrats died. I was sixteen when he went to prison on that hitch. I was long gone from Sagittaron before he was out again."

"Don't blame you." Zaharis replies, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Ever talk to him again? Once he was out?"

"Once," Rhea says quietly. She takes a long breath. "You know, Ephraim, my dad…that hurts like hell, but I can live with it. I loved them and they knew it. Maybe not as well as they should have, but at least I told them. I loved Ray, too. He knew a part of me better than anybody else in the world. Not a part I liked very much but…it is what it is. He came to see me about ten years ago. After he got out. When I was a Lieutenant on the Scorpia Shipyards. Reece was two. He wanted to meet his nephew. Make his peace with some things. He'd taken his vows in prison." She smirks. "Dedicated himself to Poseidon. Never would've guessed it, angry at the temples as he was but…I guess he made his peace with that better than I did."

"Maybe." Zaharis replies, shaking his head. "But some things aren't for us to make peace with. At least, we can't force ourselves to. Whether you do or don't is neither here nor there when talking about someone else's life. I'm glad you spoke with him again."

"I'm not," Rhea says softly. Looking down at the table. "I can be…very unkind, Jesse. Ephraim saw pieces of that. I was really hard to live with those years I was stationed at Fleet Headquarters on Picon. That's why things…well. I got my chance to make amends for that, at least. With Ray, it just laid like that. I was still angry. About Sagittaron. About our mom. About a lot of things that had nothing to do with him. About other things that he'd already more than paid for. I wouldn't even let him see Reece. And I said some terrible things. And…that was that. He wrote. I didn't write back. And eventually he stopped writing."

Zaharis listens, resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands in front of his mouth as he watches her talk. When she finishes, he's quiet a few seconds. "You know, this is going to sound stupid, but…maybe you should write to him now."

Rhea looks up. Thoughtful. "Maybe. There are a lot of things I want to say. To him. To Ephraim. It seems weird. Writing letters to the dead. I don't believe in ghosts or angels or any of that crap. But I guess it's not about them, is it? They are…wherever they are. It's us who have to live with what we've done. Maybe I should get it down."

"Is saying the things we should have said ever about the other person?" Zaharis asks gently, keeping his hands folded at his chin. "Does it really matter who it's about?" He smiles, faintly. "Write to them, Rhea."

"I guess not," Rhea agrees. "Ray coming to see me on Scorpia wasn't about me so much as him, really. He said what he needed to say. I wasn't the greatest sounding board but, he got it out." She pauses. As if about to stop talking altogether. But there's more she wants to add. "He saved my life, you know. My brother. Whatever else he became, whatever else he did. He protected me from a lot of shit when we were kids. And once he did, literally, save my life. I never thanked him properly for that."

"Yeah. I know the feeling." The comment is very quiet. Zaharis unfolds his hands, resting them on the table. "Write it out. When you're done, if you want, I'll show you where I've burned the ones I wrote. I don't know why I burned them, just felt better. Maybe it'll make you feel a little better too."

"Maybe." Rhea sounds skeptical. "I'll give it a try, at least. And I'll take you up on that burning thing. Destroying the evidence in true Sagittaron fashion." She smirks.

Zaharis winks. "That's the spirit." He taps the table with his fingertips. "Alright shorty, I should think about getting my lazy ass back to Sickbay."

"Don't call me shorty. You aren't even tall enough to get away with it," Rhea says. Standing. "I thought it was just men over six feet who had height complexes. Anyway. Thanks. I'll see you later. If you need to talk…I'd like to think I've gotten to be a better sounding board over the years, Jesse. You can always crash my bunk if you need to, at least."

"I know." Zaharis smiles at her. "And I am plenty tall, missy…" He starts to stands up, himself. About halfway up his left hand catches on the table, the right springing to his leg. A flicker of discomfort goes across his face, promptly bit back as he straightens. "See? Look up and weep."

"Yeah. I see." Rhea moves around the table, closer to him, reaching out to touch Zaharis' thigh. Not in any kind of fun way. The leg worries her. "You okay there?"

"Cramp," Zaharis says, stepping back from her and grabbing his fatigues jacket off his chair, along with the medical journal. "Went running earlier, must've overdid it." He doesn't look at her as he says that. "Anyway, I need to get on shift. Talk to you tonight?"

"Yeah. We'll talk," Rhea says firmly. Not entirely buying it. But she lets him go.

Zaharis gives her a two fingered salute and smiles, pulling his jacket over his shoulder as he heads for the hatch.

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