On Ice - 23 BCH
On Ice
Summary: Rhea incurs a minor head injury. In the Head. How fitting.
Date: 23 BCH (Oct 20 2008)
Related Logs: None

Forward Head Genesis - Deck 9
24 BCH 2085 Souls

The Head, or bathroom as the military call it, has a line of sinks for washing hands and face. Mirrors are above each sink for convienence. There are also showers, closed and open as well as toilet areas.
----—< Condition 3 - Duty Area >-----
Contents: Zaharis

Exits: [O] Corridor

Rhea is spending some quality time in the Head. Which isn't abnormal, in and of itself. She's going about it in an unusual way, though. She's currently *under* one of the sinks, ear to the pipes. The sink isn't in use at the moment, though her presence likely discourages folks.

There are many reasons that men take cold showers. The heating pipes being broken is the least exciting of any. Zaharis had ducked in after an entire day of treating various rashes to wash off both sweat and the medicinal smell of the various creams they'd been prescribing for hours on end. As he emerges from the shower area in his olive offduty pants and a standard issue Colonial Fleet T-shirt, his dogtags clink as he tugs them back over his damp head. A slight smirk as he spots the engineer at work, and he comes up towards the sink ahead with boots in hand. Kneeling down very slowly behind Rhea's back, he leans forward and whispers in a raspy voice, "Heeeelllp meeee…"

Rhea was intent on listening to the pipe, so the noise startles her. She lifts her head abruptly, beginning to chew Zaharis out properly for interrupting her with an annoyed, "Do you mind…?" The head-raising is instinctive, and doesn't take into account the fact that she's *under* a sink. Her skull comes into contact with it with a sharp *clang*. "Ow! You goat-frakking little…" She trails off to nurse her head, though the profanity suggests she didn't do herself serious harm.

Zaharis snorts. "Goat-frakkin? New one for you. I -know- Ephraim didn't teach you to swear like that." Settling back in a comfortable crouch, he eyes her head with the unavoidable glance-over of a physician. "Calm down, didn't break any skin."

Rhea mutters more profanity under her breath, hoisting herself up from under the sink into a standing position. She pokes at the spot where she bumped her head tentatively. It'll make a nice bump but she seems to have all her faculties intact. "Ephraim knows better than to interrupt me while I'm working," she says. Serious as can be about her 'work' under there. "He was called far worse than that before he learned proper, believe me."
<Newbie> Reighner has disconnected.

Zaharis grins up at her. "I don't think I want to know." He doesn't get up yet, glancing into the maze of pipes under the sink. "Nor am I really sure I want to know what you guys have found crawling around in those pipes. Whatever's in there, I can only pray it's inanimate."

"Haven't found anything yet," Rhea says, turning on the tap to wash her hands. Thoroughly. She's been on the Head floor gloveless. She sounds annoyed. And not *just* at Zaharis. "There's something funny going on, though. The storage rooms are turning into saunas and perfectly serious officers have been tugging me aside all morning to talk about pipes 'gurgling.'" She pokes at her head some more, which makes her wince.

"I have never envied you your job, Rhea." Zaharis lofts a brow at said pipes. He braces his hands on his knees as he stands up, and casts a faint smirk at her head. "Are you actually -on- duty or just being a workaholic? Because if it's the latter, I'll be a gentleman and go get you some ice for that."

Rhea glares at Zaharis. She does not dignify that with an answer. But she's dressed in off-duty garb uniform, so he can draw his own conclusions. "I just wanted to get a handle on how big a pain in the ass this was going to be," she non-answers. "I hope it's just the environmental systems. Those sons-of-bitches are temperamental but if you catch problems fast it's not too big a deal. Water recycling malfunctions are a frakking nightmare."

Zaharis makes a clicking sound with his teeth. "Ice." He drops his boots, stuffing his feet into them and leaning down to do a quick lace-up job. "I'm sure it's nothing terrible." One boot done, onto the other. Twenty years of boots teaches the hands to lace like lightning. "Just a giant pain in the ass, and sometimes the pains in the ass make more of a stink than the real explosions." Straightening again, he grins. "I'll get you a pack. Staying in here?"

"No," Rhea growls, straightening up from the sink to follow the good doctor. She seems amenable enough to the offer of ice. "The pipes aren't talking to me right now. We'll see if they get more communicative when they've been wrenched open."

Zaharis grins a little and slings his towel over his shoulder. "You choose the place, I'll bring the painkillers."

"I guess I might as well just head back to the bunks," Rhea says. "I hate Sick Bay." She adds, after a beat that's longer than probably necessary, "No offense." With that, she heads bunk-wards.

Naval Officer Berthings Genesis - Deck 12
23 BCH 2085 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.
----—< Condition 3 - Duty Area >-----
Contents: Zaharis Navy Bunks Wireless 1426

Exits: [O] Corridor

Rhea has made her way back to the bunks and flopped down in her own little hole. Sprawled.

Zaharis brought up one of sickbay's little blue reusable cold packs. Blessings that they are. He heads towards Rhea's bunk, down the little aisle from his own, and raps on the metallic railing with his knuckles. "Medical delivery."

Rhea opens up her bunk and sticks her arm out, snatching her slim fingers toward the cold pack. "Thanks," she grumbles.

Zaharis smirks, shaking his head and resting a folded arm against the bunk overhead. "You know, sometimes I see where Reece gets it."

Rhea sets the cold pack behind her head and lays down. She tries not to show it, but it's obvious it feels good for her to relax a little. Not that that stops her from glaring some more at Zaharis. "Don't worry, Jesse. Your influence hasn't rubbed off on him yet. How are things in the Medical Bay, anyhow? I had a couple enlisted out today with some sort of rash."

"They were -out- with a rash?" Zaharis snorts quietly. "I didn't authorise that. And whatever pansy did is getting a transfer. The rashes are just heat rashes, far as we can tell. Some people get them, some don't. It won't kill anyone." He sits down at the foot of her bunk, stretching out his legs. "Gives everyone an outlet to complain more than anything, I'd say."

Rhea snorts. "Better not have been you," she grumbles. Though she's getting less irritable as her head stops hurting. "It's the military, Jesse. Complaining is an entire specialty."

"Oh, trust me," Zaharis replies, drily amused. "I know." He leans back against the bar supporting the upper bunk, folding his hands over his waist. "Cap Gaelan wants some of his Marine medics to do a rotation in Sickbay. I said yes, though I admit it's solely for personal amusement."

Rhea can't help but grin at the idea. "It'll probably be good for them. Though I'm not sure how much fun your people will have breaking them in. I've always wondered why Marines needed their own branch of medics. Their injuries can't be *that* much tougher, whatever they may want to think."

Zaharis shrugs one shoulder. "Navy tends to navy operations, Marines to marine. Unless they land in Sickbay, in which case everyone's ass is mine. I figure it won't be too bad. Gaelan gets to beat them if they cop an attitude, and having a few jarheads around might 'encourage' the more unruly patients to sit down and be quiet. Win-win."

Rhea sticks her tongue out at Zaharis when he mentions unruly patients. "Your bedside manner is truly heart-warming," she says dryly, but she chuckles as she says it. To make it clear she's joking.

Zaharis smiles. "Been a while since I really needed to dust off the bedside manner, Rhea." He gently scratches his upper arm. "Did that happen to you, when you took over Engineering? Find that…I don't know. You don't really get to do your job anymore."

Rhea nods, an expression of some sympathy coming to her face. "You think I couldn't delegate the pipe-whispering in the Head? Sometimes just shoving all the duty-roster-management bull aside is the only way I can feel useful." She offers him a smile. "It'll get easier. Once you get to know your people, and they get to trust you, you'll fall into a rhythm. And you can still get your hands dirty now and then."

"I will not. That's what rubber gloves are for." Zaharis smirks, but he nods as well. "Not so much concerned over easier. If administration were any easier I'd be bored." He muses over this a few seconds, then shrugs. "Anyway. So how'd you like the PAS?"

Rhea snorts at the rubber gloves bit, nodding. "It's a decent facility. The captain running the place seems like a decent man. It's secure. There are plenty of people around to keep an eye on Reece, and he can't get himself into too much trouble. Having the civilians here makes it easier for him. More kids to mess around with."

Zaharis grins a bit. "I bet he's right at that age where he'd pitch a fit if he heard you calling him a kid. Really though, this is good place for him. Stretches the brain out. And you'll be gone by the time he discovers the stuff that'll really get him trouble, like…girls."

Rhea snorts some more. "I gave him life. I can call him whatever I want. It *is* probably wise not to say 'kid' where he can hear, though." She waves a dismissive hand as to the girls. "He's still a little young for that nonsense yet." Of course, she was absent for a lot of the last few years he spent on Picon.

"That nonsense spawned him." Zaharis chides lightly. "And you'll see. You think you've got so much time, but I'm already saving money for when Ephraim calls me going 'Hey Jesse, it's time for Reece's wife's baby shower!'"

Rhea is unamused. "We damn well better have *several* years before we become grandparents," she says firmly. "Maybe you'll even have a little Zaharis for us to dote over by that time. The rate your going, he and my grand-spawn will probably be the same age."

"I have no intention of subjecting the world to such a tragedy," Zaharis replies, smirking. "And you should be thanking me. Reece is enough to try and spoil behind two backs."

Rhea grins, though she also shakes her head a little. The ice pressed to her pillow has clearly made head-shaking less painful. "I still don't understand your aversion to domestic life. You're great with kids. I wouldn't trust the firstborn and only heir to all things Zimmermann to just anyone, you know." Though her tone is light and somewhat joking, there's clearly sincerity under it.

"Too much to do," Zaharis offers in defence but with an easy tone. "Besides, I'm not the one with an aversion to domestic life. Who's running around in far sectors fixing pipes on a Battlestar, here? Have you ever baked a pie in your life?" He grins.

"You're deflecting, Doctor. Isn't that a medical term?" Rhea asks. In her own defense she adds, "I'm bad with ovens. FTL drives I can handle. My pies burn." But a more serious look does come to her face. She shrugs. "I've been thinking about it lately, come to it. Not pies. I don't think I'll ever be a happy homemaker. But maybe it's time to start thinking about coming down from the battlestars."

"Get a maid, solves those pesky pie issues." Zaharis laces his fingers behind his head. "Maybe it's time, indeed. What would you do if you did? Go teach? Retire early? Open the Rhea Zimmerman Fix-It-All shop?"

"I'm too young to retire," Rhea says. Firmly. Judging from the look she gives Zaharis, contradicting that would be dangerous. "A teaching spot with the Engineering Corps wouldn't be such a bad gig, though." She pauses, adding firmly, "I'm not saying anything yet. No one of my officers stands out I'd like to leave the Genesis to, yet. And we've got more than enough work to do, with so many new gizmos installing on PAS. I'm just…thinking."

"Course not. You're not even forty yet," Zaharis makes a gesture towards her as if to punctuate this point. "Isn't life supposed to begin soon, or something?"

"So they say," Rhea says dryly. Her expression's gone very thoughtful now. "I know it was hard for Ephraim these last few years. On Picon, by himself with Reece. He never *really* complained but…" She smirks at Zaharis. "…it's not exactly a secret things weren't too great between us just after I took the ChEng spot. I'm not saying I'm sorry I did it but…maybe it's time to grow up. Ephraim's just got another year on the Persius. It might be nice, to be an actual family again."

Zaharis watches her for a moment. "He's glad you took it, though, you know. I'm sure he's told you that. I don't know how much you really believe it. But, he told me, and he doesn't lie about things like that to me." Bros before hos. Though of course Zaharis doesn't put it like that.

Rhea makes a soft "Hmph" sound. She doesn't argue, exactly, but she doesn't sound like she really believes it. "Well. It'll be a year before it's sensible to think about doing anything, one way or another. Plenty of time to groom my commissioned snipes. See if there's anyone I dislike enough to inflict authority on them."

"Evil," Zaharis shakes his head, unhooking a hand from behind him to glance at his wrist. "Frak. I should catch a nap before I jump back into the rash pond." He reaches up and hooks his fingers on the underside of the bunk above, standing up. "That pack'll stay cold for a few more hours. Just toss it on my bunk, I'll take it back later."

"Yeah, a nap sounds good right now," Rhea says, reaching over to shut up her bunk. But before she does she adds to Zaharis, "Thanks." For the pack or the conversation, she doesn't elaborate.

Zaharis smiles. Though he doesn't say anything other than promptly ruining the moment by declaring: "Damn. I really want pie." His face scrunches and he turns to head up the wide aisle.

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