One plus One makes Three
One plus One makes Three
Summary: Eve and Micah work some things out.
Date: 58 ACH
Related Logs: Battlestar Babies, etc.
Players:
Eve..Micah..

Evelyn never reported for duty today, which would make her AWOL if she didn't have the permission from the CMO to take a day of bed rest. That's precisely what she's doing, though she's not sleeping at the moment. Her curtain is open, if only to allow circulation into her little tomb of a bunk, and she's currently staring at the ceiling of it with what looks like a black dry erase marker clamped between her lips. On the shelf above her is a plate of flatbread, a few crackers, and a bottle of water which amount to breakfast in bed that she hasn't yet touched.

Thankfully, by the time the hatch opens to admit Micah, there isn't much of a gauntlet left to walk. The CMO departed for duty, as well as the priest and priestess, and so he's only got a psyche on bedrest to contend with. Hesitating, watching her, he almost seems like he might change his mind and head back out again.

Eve pulls the marker from her mouth and starts talking before she even glances over, "Really, tell the doc I'm fine. There's no sense in sending a nurse up here every hour just to check on me. I'm resting, see?" Her head lulls to the side, as if to thank who ever it is and send them skittering off, but instead of someone from medical, her eyes land on mismatched ones. "Oh." Her eyes go back to whatever is on the ceiling of her bunk, and she reaches up to scribble or possibly black out something. "Got lost?"

"Somethin' like that." It's spoken quietly, and the pilot doesn't move for a good thirty seconds. When he does, it's to take the long route toward Eve's bunk, around the table in the centre of the room. "So're you goin' to tell me why you've been avoidin' me lately?" His fingertips brush over the back of a chair as he moves.

Eve chews on her bottom lip, hand falling away from whatever project she's got going on up there. She takes a long time before she speaks, recapping the marker and letting it rest on her chest. Avoiding looking at him, just as she's been avoiding him around the Genesis. "You and I…are two far different people." She says at length, as if that should be explanation enough.

Micah chuckles softly. He doesn't come any closer for the time being, though. Nervous? Hell, yeah. "How much soul searchin' you need to do, to figure that one out?" It's probably meant to add some levity to the situation, but there's a note of panic in his voice that her pyschiatrist self would pick up on instantly.

Eve flicks her glance over to him. "You're a bully, Micah. Cruel just to be cruel." A sigh comes, sounding distinctly mournful. "I counsel people because of bullies. Look, you told me to stay out of it? So I am. Far far out of it." She forces her gaze away from him again, as if to do so is actually a physical struggle.

Micah curls his hand around the back of that chair, nails biting into the wood. Must not hurl chair at pregnant girl- er. Ex girlfriend. "You don't frakking know me. Sir." His lower lip trembles slightly, and he digs his teeth in to stop it.

Eve shakes her head, "No, I don't know you. At one time I fooled myself into believing I could /feel/ you, but. Ah well. We've proved you don't need to know someone to procreate with them." She closes her eyes with her words, pinching them tight like she didn't mean to say those things. Instant regret, but at least it prompts her to pick up her marker, uncapping it with her teeth to squiggle something quickly on the metal above her head. "Mood swings." She mumbles around the plastic in her mouth. Another sigh, and she's recapping the pen. "Remember what happens when I /do/ try to get to know you? You flee." Quietly. "I want to know you. I want to feel you again."

<Trait Roll> Micah rolls Willpower and achieves a degree of BeyondSuperb (7). *CRITICAL SUCCESS*

Micah's grip on the chair becomes a white-knuckled, shaking thing as she speaks those first words. Obviously they hurt. Obviously. But by some miracle he's able to shove the anger that was threatening to bubble up, and releases the furniture. "When have I ever frakking fled? I miss one frakking date, because I was busy gettin' my nose broken by my squadmate, because of the frakked up shit we had to deal with up there. And all of a sudden, I flee?" He throws his hands up. "Maybe this is just your godsdamned hormones talking. I don't know."

Eve can get angry too, just watch her. No doubt the doctors would disapprove of her sudden increase in blood pressure, but the marker goes snapping to the end of her bunk with a dull *CLANG* on the metal. "Or the time you took off in the middle of frakking, we forgetting that conveniently?" Her voice is raised by the time she's rolled to the side up on her elbow. "Or the fact that everytime I ask you a question, you dance the frak around the answer until it seems like its pulling teeth just to get a straight one outta you!" She winces again, but this time its not because of her words, but physical discomfort. She drops back to a supine position, hand on her stomach and eyes glistening with wetness.

"Every frakking time? Lords of frakking Kobol, Eve, I got into a tussle with another pilot, is THAT what you want to know?" Talk about blood pressure. His is visibly climbing, too. "She was upset, I told her to hit me, if it'd make 'er feel better. Captain wanted to keep it in the squadron, so I brushed it off, I don't see why it's such a big frakking DEAL." There's a growl, and he gives the chair a stiff kick, along with a 'motherfrakker!' for good measure. Pulling away, he steps up to rest his forehead against one of the bunks next to Eve's. His breathing's audible.

Eve is steadying her own breathing out, one of those slow inhales through the nose and long exhales out of her mouth. Something she's learned long ago, which usually stemmed off her accidently fainting. Now its just used to calm herself down, "Shoes. You told me you tripped over shoes. That's something you tell the on call nurse, not your gods damn…whatever in Hades I am to you. Was to you. Should've could've would've."

"And you humiliated me in front of a rook." He's more than angry about that. He's hurt. Exasperated perhaps, at her inability to understand it. "So I guess we're frakking even, on the trust front." He's silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of her controlled breathing; his own is a sharp staccato. "Ah've gotta go." It's mumbled in a soft, hoarse voice. He doesn't specify where or why.

There's a whimper from Eve, then a pained, "No, you have to stay." Its not an order or a request, rather it suddenly sounds like a panicked plea.

Micah grinds his teeth together slightly, chin jutting out a little when he hears that. He closes his eyes and keeps his forehead pressed against the bunk, neither departing nor drawing nearer. It seems he can concede to that much.

Eve is clutching at her stomach, the sound from her lips is a grunt through clenched teeth. "Please. I need you." And it doesn't come out in some mooney 'my world would end without you way', but in an actual 'I need your assistance' sort.

Micah turns his head to the side, and blinks once. ..Frak. "What's wrong?" he pulls away from the wall and draws nearer, sinking his heavier weight onto her bunk. There's an attempt to touch her shoulder, however tentative.

Eve reaches up to clamp a hand over his on her shoulder, dragging it lower. "Just a cramp." She puts his hand over her stomach, off center towards one hip. Her stomach is deceptively /harder/ despite the soft feminine appearance, probably a fact that was overlooked during their little forray in the supply closet. "Rub. Rubrubrub…" She mutters.

Micah tenses when she touches his hand, but allows it to be pulled to where she wants it. He leans in a bit closer with a soft creak of the mattress, and begins.. rubbing. Awkwardly at first, though not ungently. He's a viper stick, after all, maybe a woman — like a mark seven — just requires a soft touch sometimes. Yeah, that's it.

Eve closes her eyes with a soft 'umph', her head turning towards him as she inhales slowly. This time part of the calming breath she takes includes getting a deep inhale of everything Micah. After a moment of silence as he rubs, she murmurs, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarass you. It wasn't my intent. I was actually trying to be playful. And make you shut up." The last is said with a bit of a smirk on her lips. And above them, if he were to glance up? Its a flow sheet of what she has to expect while pregnancy, as well as a pro and a con list of apparently keeping the child. Suspiciously, it looks like Micah's name was once in both column, then scratched out. His name is now squarely on the line between positives and negatives.

Micah doesn't speak immediately. He's busy rubbing, slowly and gently, and there's a hint of wonder in his eyes at the feel of that tiny 'bump'. He probably doesn't even notice the marks on the bunk, yet. "I was.. out of line. I just." His hand keeps moving, rhythmic. He smells like he always smells, of cigarettes and navy soap and neoprene flight suit. "Sometimes, you've got to hurt people before they can hurt you." And that, right there, probably says more than he meant it to.

Eve blinks her eyes back open at his words, "Ooh, Micah…" She murmurs, she should have identified it as a defense mechanism of course, but she's so hesitant to cross wires with her personal and professional life, she's almost naive in the former. Her hand lifts, daring to graze fingertips over his cheek. "It doesn't have to be like that, you know…"

Micah swallows softly. He's trying to be the tough guy, but there's little cracks visible in his so-called armour. At least he's shaved, save for that bit of bristle beneath his lower lip. "You don't know what it's like, Eve," he mumbles, hand stilling and curving over that precious little bump like he's trying to protect it. "Viper jocks are a vicious bunch." There's a little chuckle. "I learned that real quick."

Yeah, easier to make it sound like this is a recent and isolated thing.

Eve manages to offer a bit of a smile, "No, I don't really know. But that doesn't make me just a casual observer either. I've heard about the hazing, the good natured ribbing, the tough love. But its all just a part of it, to make you a stronger and better team when you're out there getting each other's backs, right?" Maybe she's starting to get the picture that it goes further back from that. Afterall, she knew his father. But. Baby steps. She pulls her thumb down over his little 'soul patch' of facial hair. "But that doesn't have to be you. You don't have to be the asshole all the time. See? Like now." Her smile turns a little awkward as she lays a hand over his that has curved on her belly. "You're not him, you know."

Micah directs his eyes briefly toward hers again, when she mentions 'him'. And then away. He's probably absorbing her words, sifting through them, as he doesn't have anything to say for now. He does pull himself a little further into her bunk though, booted feet dangling off the end as he resumes that circular stroking.

Eve sighs deeply, likely still riding out the last of that cramp his hand is smoothing out. "I'm sorry for all of this. I didn't mean to put you in this position, either of us. You don't…" Her eyes go up to the ceiling of her bunk, "Hurt them before they hurt you." She murmurs, realizing she was doing precisely the same thing with him. "I want to have this child, Micah. I've been having second, third, and fourth thoughts about this, but I think in the end, I really really want this child. It was too early for us, I know that. I mean we aren't even.." She's rambling at this point, nervously so. "I can't expect anything from you, I won't. I mean I'd understand if you wanted nothing to do with me once I get big and fat and as round as a whale."

Micah seems to have left the brunt of his frustration behind with that kicked chair. And Eve's words only have him settling a little closer to her, some of that fierce protectiveness brought to the fore. He dares to drop a kiss to her forehead, soft as he can muster. "I want everythin' to do with you, Eve. Ah'm not goin' to abandon you to do this alone. Not unless you want me to. Unless you'd prefer, not to have me aroun' frakking everythin' up. Just.. I need to be able to trust you. I need you to be able to trust me."

Eve's eyebrows shoot up at that, "Yeah?" There's a little too much hope in her voice, enough so that she gets choked up on it. "Look, Micah. I promise as long as you're not making more work for me, psychologically damaging your wing mates…I won't butt in. I won't even step down airwing's hallway, if it causes you too much hell. Well, no, I can't promise that as that's actually a short cut up to my office, but. And who knows when I'll need to pop in there and drag you off demanding ice cream and foot rubs…but.." Yeah, she's still rambling, but now it has a hint of actual excitement to it.

Micah smiles a touch, and grazes his thumb over her belly in a roundabout pattern that speaks to an absent fondness. Soon he's drifting his shoulder down to the mattress and curling up beside and around her, with his cheek tucked in against her shoulder. Awww. "Ah'll be happy to rub your feet, so long as ah'm not on duty. Or in the middle of a triad game." He chuckles. "I might make an exception there, if you ask me real nice."

Eve presses her cheek to the top of his head, nose nuzzling into his dark hair. When he's finally curled around her, she finally settles down enough that her pattern of speech evens out. "Who knows. It might bring you luck." She murmurs quietly, shifting to lay an arm around him and a brief squeeze of a hug. "There…are other things I'm going to need help with. Mainly racking up enough supplies. I might also be moved to the Carina when I'm further along." So much to tell him, and they've had precious little time to talk.

Micah's breathing has evened out, too. Deep, slow intakes of air as he listens to the sound of her voice echoed through her frame where his ear's pressed. "Anything I can help with? The supplies.. do you need me to help you get set up over there? I might.. be able to rearrange my duty shifts.." He doesn't seem certain. There are too few pilots right now, as it is. "Just tell me what you need, and ah'll do my best. Just don't ask me to breastfeed." He grins slightly.

Eve rubs at his arm, just to be able to touch him again. Her palm smoothes up his bicep then back down to his wrist and repeats. "Adele, Major Zaharis' girlfriend, is being kind enough to lend me a room at her townhome to store things we come across. The black market is frowned upon severely, but we might not have much choice to get bottles, cloth diapers…she's doing a great job of arranging a pool of resources for families, but I'm afraid it won't be enough. I gathered some of my personal possession we can trade or barter with." In fact, the packed duffel is still at the very end of her bed, where the marker disappeared to. "And she suggested a wet nurse, but I don't think she meant you, dear." Pat pat.

Micah nods slowly, breath released in a slightly shaky fashion. This is a lot of information, all at once. The touch of her hand upon his arm, seems to calm him though, for what it's worth. "And where will you stay, once you're moved to the Carina for the rest of.. the pregnancy?" he wants to know. His chin lifts, and Eve'll find herself looking into a pair of slightly wide eyes. "Ah'm not havin' you bunk with other people, certainly not on the Genesis, for much longer." Of course. Because Micah's in charge, or so he thinks. "You need a proper place to stay. Can you continue your work, on the Carina?"

Eve seems to only find his protective and distinct alpha maleness sort of endearing, actually. Her hand reaches up, brushing his cheek again. "They're talking about building a garrison on the Carina for people like me. A place to work and live, with a proper day care and schools for the children. I'm lucky, that I don't need to be in one specific place in order to still be of service to the fleet. But I stay where ever they tell me to stay. Which includes likely staying on the Carina if …if the Genesis has to jump away." Which looks like it kills her to say, much less think about. They'll be seperated.

Micah's hand slides off her tummy, arm curving around her waist now as he gathers her up a little closer. Oddly enough? Mention of the Genesis jumping away if there's trouble, seems to ease his mind, if anything. "If it happens, it happens. So long as you're safe." It's saccharine, but he means it. He really does. "All right. Ah'll see what I can do, what I can find for you. I might be able to pull a few strings." He flashes a grin at that, though doesn't specify. Eyes close when she touches his cheek. "I missed you. So much."

Eve turns into him, shifting her head to press their foreheads together, smoosh their noses against one another. "I thought I could just walk away, even with a little piece of you growing inside me. Walk away, and it would be easier. But it wasn't easy. I didn't even make it a day without listening to the tactical channel, or sneaking down to the hangar to make sure you landed okay. I don't ever want to lose you."

Micah laughs a little, husky sounding. He turns his head left and right to rub noses with her gently, fingers tangling in her t-shirt and tank top. "I know. I saw you. I wanted to call out to you.." His voice drops to a harsh whisper tuned against her lips, "You don't walk away from me again. Not without tellin' me what's what. Not without tellin' me proper. You don't leave me not knowin' like that, again."

Eve frowns deeply, her bottom lip plumping out in something akin to a pout. "I'm a coward. When it comes to these sorts of things, I'm a coward. I spent eight years attached to a man in a frakking coma and when that was over, I threw myself into my job. If I…ventured to sate certain needs it was always just a random encounter. You're the first /real/ thing…I won't do it again. I'll always be square with you, even if neither of us likes it."

Micah nods once. There's a moment's hesitation, a kiss aimed for that pouty lip, and a cautious sort of smile from him. "Good. Turn that frown upside-down, then." Withdrawing a little, he flumps his head back down beside her. "Your tummy feelin' better? Or do I need to get you up to sickbay?"

Eve rolls onto his back once he flumps away, still smiling a bit after that little kiss. "No sickbay. I just need rest, stay stretched out. Little movement as possible. Which unfortunately," She's groping behind her to try and find the eraser she borrowed for her little artwork escapade she's now sheepishly trying to destroy. "Leaves me to my thoughts."

"So long as they're good thoughts." He traces her belly once more, then allows his hand to rest there inert. A glance up at her 'artwork', which causes his brow to furrow slightly. "Hope you won't be needin' that, anymore."

Eve tries to make quick work of erasing things, now that they are both staring up at the words. She of course discretely tries to remove his name, but likely isn't successful, considering. "Not bad or good. Just fact." Things like 'breast pump' disappear, and 'relocating to Carina', 'continuing military career' soon follows. "Its all in my head now, anyways. I'm a visual learner. Tell me something all day long, and I'll forget it. /Show me/, and it sticks there."

It's almost amusing after a certain fashion, seeing the contents of her mind written up on that bunk. He watches his name there for a moment, straddling the 'pros' and the 'cons', and then turns his cheek to watch Eve instead. It's better this way. "Ah'm the same way." His laughter's brief, but sincere. "There. One similarity."

Eve smirks a bit. "Should we write it down?" She asks, now clearing off the flow chart of pregnancy, which starts with 'onset' and ends of course with delivery. "I'm sure we have plenty, we'll just have to figure them out. Let's see. What else? Hmm. We both like storage closets. Oh!" A book is pulled out from its wedge between mattress and the metal side of her bunk, something tucked in the pages. Its not a key this time, but a grainy black and white photo that looks more like an ink blot test, and ameoba or.. "My first ultrasound."

Micah chews on his lower lip when she starts talking about their similarities, stifling the laugh that wants to burble out. At the 'oh!' he's lifting his eyes again, curious. "Umm." That's the sound of confusion as he reaches for it, and then a rush to sit up when she explains further. "This.. you.. frak me." Mumbled, it's the pilot's all around term for something that he hasn't got the words for. Fingertips brush over the fuzzy little image. "Your baby? Our.." No, he doesn't quite have the nerve to say that yet. He squints at it closer. "You sure?"

Eve taps the little darkened kidney shaped thing in the middle of the read out. "That little coffee bean…" She confirms, not minding the way he waivers about the terminology. She can be a patient woman, and this is a lot to absorb. Likely that's what she's been doing here all day, laying here and just absorbing it all.

"It's an ugly little frakker, in't it," he murmurs, half to himself and half to her. He leans in again for another closer look, and then reaches over to brush her tummy where that little bump can barely be felt. "Hard to believe it's.." He struggles for a word, and fails miserably. "Alive?" A clock on the wall catches his eye then, and he sighs. "Ah've got to get back on duty. Can I keep this? Promise ah'll give it back."

Eve actually seems pleased that he asks. "Yes of course. And that's a little boy or girl you're talking about there. Careful, or you'll give it a complex." And not missing anything in the proximity, his glance at the clock is noted. "Off to duty then? Good, I need some sleep. Ugh. And to eat. And that's never a pretty thing to have witnesses to."

Micah nods once, and then chances a quick grin. "If it's mine, it'll learn to cope." He's joking, of course. Mostly. There's a quick kiss for her cheek. "Let me know if you need anythin'. Foot rubs included." He lingers a little more, brushes his fingers once through her hair, then pushes off her bunk and heads for the hatch.

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