Reverse Counseling
Reverse Counseling
Summary: Ramiro visits Greje, a tender moment of counseling happens.
Date: 52 ACH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Melia..Greje..Ramiro..

Greje's door is open. She's just visible perched on the corner of her desk, talking to someone sitting out of sight on the ungodly ugly loveseat. She lifts her head at the knocking and smiles at Dane, then back to Melia, "Anytime, Mellie. You know where my door is."

Dane Ramiro stands in his offduty clothes. Dogtags hanging, he seems to have noticed that Greje had company after knocking. Taking a step back from the door, he looks down and leaves them some privacy to finish whatever they are speaking about.

Melia looks up as Dane approaches and gives a warm, bright smile. She flashes a wink at Greje then looks up at the big Marine. "I'll step out so you can fit in," she tells him, laughing quietly. As she does just that, moving past him, she pauses. "Oh, and Dane? If L.T. says anything about you and I dating, I told him we -weren't-, so I suspect he thinks it was a brushoff and that you and I are a couple." With that little bomblette dropped, she's gone.

Greje stands up from the corner of her desk, smiling at Melia as she goes and Dane as he steps in. "Dane. How nice to see you. Shall I make you some tea?" she wonders.

"Wait what LT…?" Dane tries to reply at the door before Melia sails on by. A bit of laughter in his eyes, he's sporting a few fresh bruises to his face, a stitched split lip, and some light bandages on his right hand. Blushing, he shakes his head and steps inside, offering a book to Greje. "This…is from Astyoche Kyrios and yes please. I'm starting to prefer it over the coffee."

Greje ahs, and takes the book. "Thank you for bringing it back for her," she replies, going to put it away, though it doesn't seem to have any room on her shelves. She sets it on top of her closed laptop and begins brewing up another tea from her hand-made blend. "You look like you've had quite a time. In the ring, or personal business?" she wonders.

"Personal business that so far I've managed to not get brigged for." Ramiro admits, continuing that level of full disclosure with his spiritual leader and friend. "It's been a pretty whirlwind last couple of weeks, actually. I've got alot to talk about if you have the time, Sister."

"My time is yours, Dane. Have a seat. Do you want to close the door?" Greje asks before he continues, glancing out to the administrative offices out there. She isn't bothered either way, but if it's private business he might want to. She continues making his tea, and one for herself, while she's at it.

"Actually, yes please…" Ramiro replies, taking a seat on the ugly orange loveseat. Leaning back a little, he gets comfortable and sits so that he can watch Greje make the tea as he talks. "First of all though, please, how have you been? It's been too long since we last talked, Greje."

Greje lets the water boil while she scoots around to the door and sets out her 'counselling in session' sign so that they're not disturbed except in an emergency. Which, you know, wouldn't be totally unexpected, these days. She closes the door again and turns back to her desk just in time to pick up the boiling teapot and pour water into the cup. "I'm alright, I suppose. As alright as is possible," she replies, keeping her eyes lowered to the tea-making process and keeping her response vague and non-specific.

"You suppose? That doesn't exactly sound very confident." Ramiro replies, watching her back as he speaks quietly with her. He sits up to receive the tea when it comes and blinks a few times. "By all means you know that I'm here for you if you need anything, do you want to talk about it?"

Greje hands Dane one mug and then actually goes to settle sort of half-next to him, perching on one arm of the orange monstrosity and swirling her own tea while it gets nice and strong. "I know, Dane, thank you. I'm just sort of tired, that's all. I know it sounds like a silly thing to say to a marine, but there it is. Just feeling on the worn side, that's all. I could use a night out or something, I think," she offers, more forthright, now.

"I can understand, I really do." Dane replies to her, taking his head and looking up at her. He gives her a concerned look, perhaps even a little protective. "My shore leave's been cancelled for a while due to training needs, but when that lifts we should head over to the Carina to get some food and relax. Even I've been taking a good amount of shore leave lately." He pauses. "You're getting burned out…"

Greje nods her head in quiet agreement and curls up a bit on herself, her narrow frame going compact as she huddles there on the orange arm, slouching a little over her tea while she sips. "I think so. I meant to go over to the Colonial Day festivities, but… my body decided it wanted a nap, instead."

"You missed an excellent pyramid game from what I've heard…" Ramiro starts and then trails off. Lifting an eyebrow, his tone changes to one of more concern as he looks up and over to her. "Greje?" He asks quietly, letting his tea alone for the moment. "…are you well? Medically?"

Greje quirks both brows quietly. "As far as I know. I had a full physical when I came on board, and I haven't been ill since then. Bit of a stomachache, from time to time, but I've always gotten them when I get nervous or upset. The tea helps."

Greje says, "Why do you ask?"

Dane shifts a little, turning on the loveseat so that he faces her more fully. He looks up to her as he resumes bobbing the pack of tea into the hot water. "I know that you'd rather not be called Lieutenant instead of sister so I'll go on a limb here that we can toss protocol aside." Ramiro starts. "You look tired in body language but it isn't visible to a look. Really, Greje, I'm asking because I care about you." He decides his tea is ready and takes a sip.

"I am tired. It's just not the sort of tired which sleep tends to help," Greje admits, then smiles, even warmly, over her cup of tea. "Thank you, Dane. That means a lot," she tells him, her eyes watering slightly, not really in sadness, just touched and allowing herself to show it some. "So, you have news for me? Who's been pummelling your face? You know who to call if you need a second. I took fourth place in the Caprica Planetary Championship my fourth year at Caprica U," she offers with a smile.

Which is sort of amusing, since she looks as though a stiff breeze would knock her over.

Seeing her eyes water, Ramiro reaches a hand out to place on the side of her arm. "Hey…remember when we first met I told you that if you need someone to talk to, please, talk to me. I know that alot of wishes and grief come your direction and it's a large burden to bear. I'll gladly help you shoulder the weight if it means being the guy that you talk to. Allright?" Ramiro asks, holding his mug with one hand. "You're not my sympathy and tea machine that I can come in to visit whenever I need something. Who counsels the counselor?"

Greje gives a faint chuckle. "I suppose if it came to that I could go see our actual counselor. But I doubt she needs anything more on her plate, either," she adds. "Alright, Dane," she replies, slipping down from the arm of the orange beast to actually sit beside him. "Thanks," she smiles. A sip of tea.

"Allright…and don't go thinking that I'm a marine and I've already got enough worrying to deal about. I assure you that your feelings are decidedly less scary than bullets and I can handle them, allright?" Dane says with a small chuckle. Sipping his tea, he sets his mug down. "Okay…the face. I got into a fight with another marine. He's not spiritual and he doesn't have really any scruples. He's a good guy at heart but spends a strong amount of time alienating his superiors. He's been to the brig more than a few times." Dane pauses. "The CO appointed him and I to prepare a training and our leave was cancelled because of yet another round of morale deflating complaints from the guy. So I went to tell him that I wasn't going to let him piss away his life. He threw the first shove."

Greje mms. "Yes. Mr. Gars. I went to see him in the brig," she relates. "I wouldn't tell you what transpired between us in private, it wouldn't be right, as I went there in a professional capacity. But you're being more kind to him than most would be, Dane. It's very good of you. Many would be afraid to be dragged down by association."

"No that's totally understandable. I would never, ever try to pry secrets from you, Greje." Dane replies with a shake of his head. He stares off at the floor, reflectively. "Gars is a bulldog, a creature that's been beaten into a corner and he wants to come out fighting. I wonder if he'd rather die a hero than to survive this, but he's not going to get a chance either way if he doesn't calm himself down. I made the choice that I wasn't going to let him walk away from me without hearing what I had to say to him. Maybe…and I hope…that now that someone's actually managed to put him on his ass that he'll realize that at least someone around here isn't a weak, inexperienced fool. I outrank him. Maybe if he respects and trusts me he'll rally behind that." He looks to Greje. "That…doesn't sound pretentious does it?"

"You're taking command," Greje replies, "It's what you're meant to do when you're promoted, what your superiors expect you to do. I've only met him once, you know him better than I do, at this point. And I trust your judgement. It's been proven time and time again to be sound and even. No doubt why you were given the rank to begin with," she smiles. "I would have preferred you invite him into the ring with a pair of gloves to sort it out safely, but if he's not going to listen to that, he's not going to listen to that."

Dane smiles, a little bit of bashfulness coming from her compliments. "Thanks…" He trails off, looking to her with a smile. "I…think asking him to get in a ring would put things on his terms. I think part of the problem is that things have to be on his terms, and not the terms of his superior officers. I still feel bad about the fight, but I think I'm going to be able to avoid getting in trouble." He lets out a breath, sipping from his mug again. "So that settles that at least. I knocked him out and carried him to the sickbay."

Greje offers a gentle nod of her head to the thanks and sips her tea again. "Technically, the ring puts it on even footing for both of you. That's what the ring symbolizes. It's also helpful because it's a place where fighting is allowed, and nobody will get in trouble for sparring there. If he's willing to settle disputes with a show of strength in an area designated specifically for settling disputes with a show of strength, that might be the proper venue in future," she suggests gently, not chiding, just bringing up for consideration.

"Which works for me, but what about our CO?" Ramiro replies with a shake of his head. "I've thought about that but he has complaints about our leadership. I don't want to imagine the ramifications if he manages to actually beat the CO in a boxing match in the ring." Ramiro replies, looking to her. "He's a really tough subject, lots of little landmines and pitfalls here and there." He lets out a slow sigh. "I'll speak with him soon, I won't avoid the man."

Greje untangles the hand closer to Dane from its hold on her mug's handle, shifting the handle to her other hand and lifting her newly freed hand to rest on his shoulder. "I know you won't. You're not like that. I'm sorry I can't be more help. Maybe you should discuss it with Gaelan," she offers as an alternative. "He's got to have experience dealing with difficult marines, and good advice to give you."

Ramiro smiles, not flinching at the hand on his shoulder, he nods as he reflects. "Gars isn't under my command, but I think I will. Then again, I think this new PT arrangement is what's come of it." He replies, looking to her. Sipping his tea, he pauses for a long moment. "Greje? I'll admit the thing about Gars that makes me angry is…" He swallows, choosing his words. "I've been really lucky. I've been wounded. I've been five feet from Cylons. I nearly had my arm cut off. I crawled out of a mass grave. I even somehow managed to make it off of the PAS alive. I sometimes get that survivors guilt, but with Gars it just boils my blood. He has all of this experience and spends more of his time complaining when he should be trying to bring people hope. I figure the more I manage to survive through, the less the younger soldiers have to fear." Dane scoffs. "I get this feeling that if my ticket does end up getting punched he's just going to use it against the souls of our own."

Greje draws a knee up toward herself, beginning to fold in on herself again, that way she occasionally does. She actually rests her cheek briefly on her knee as she listens quietly, only interrupting briefly to put two fingers to his lips when he speaks of the possibility of his upcoming death. "Say a prayer," she murmurs quietly, a gesture of superstition, something from childhood and not much more. "I understand what you mean. Everyone's dealing with our situation in different ways. Some healthier than others. You're really stepping up to the plate, Dane. Doing more than you ever thought would be asked of you without blinking an eye. I have no doubt that there are some who've given up hope altogether, who just want to scrape life to a finish and be done with it. Not because they're lazy or mean-hearted. Just because they're wounded to such an extent that they can see no cure."

Dane issues a murmured prayer from his lips, beneath the finger she places on them before he bothers to speak about anything else. He waits a long moment before he speaks again. "That's why I do it, Greje." He pauses. "Everyone's scared. I refuse to show that I am because deep down inside I believe that we're going to be okay. I figure as long as there's someone holding the morale line…" He chuckles quietly, ignoring his tea for the moment. "…guess we're not so different, you and I."

Greje looks down to her own tea, gazing into the shifting reflections of light as if scrying for something. "I don't know, Dane. Sometimes I think you'd be better at my post than I am," she exhales subtly through her nose in a mirthless sort of laugh. "I try not to think too far into the future— at least not without Apollo leading the way. I can deal with the present, for now. But when I ask myself if I really think we can survive this. Well. I try not to think about it. I just keep saying, let's keep ourselves going, do the best we can any given day or on any given project… keep going and maybe we'll get there. If there's even a 'there' to get to."

Dane sets his tea down and reaches out, placing one hand on each of her shoulders. He waits a long moment before he starts talking. To the outside world such optimism would seem strange to the one with the bruises on his face. "Greje…please don't think that. You're amazing at what you do and I'll admit, when you brought the voice of Apollo into you I was terrified. You go places that I can't." He lowers his voice. "Greje…you know we never know when our strands are to be cut by the fates but in destiny all that we have is the presence. Even in legend, foresight to our own destinies is dangerous." He gives her shoulders a squeeze. "All we have is the present, and at present we are alive. We have friends, lovers, and some of us have family. We have tea, ugly couches, and pyramid matches. There's crying and sadness, yes, but in the present there are lives to save so that they can live." He lowers his voice to a whisper. "We are in a time of legend. A second Exodus. Have you ever considered this tea you drink? It's a little miracle. Just like this conversation. Just like D'artanion's idea for the play."

Greje keeps her eyes down on her drink, then lifts them, narrowing them breifly and looking into Dane's eyes with the same sort of searching stare. "Dane, how do you know?" she asks him. "I want… so badly… to be able to tell the people who come to me that everything's going to be fine. That's what most of them come to me to hear, and they just… wait for it… and I can't tell them that, because I have no idea. I don't believe the Lords are to blame for what happened to us. But the other side of that is that I don't know whether the Lords have any particular interest in keeping us safe from here on out. We can only take our strength from them and use that strength to keep going. But all the same I feel… I feel like I ought to know. Like you do. Somewhere in my core. To believe that all will turn out alright, somehow, and to be able to fall asleep secure in that knowledge."

"I know because we are alive." Ramiro replies, locking eyes with her. "I know because the voice of Apollo came through you. Even in legend and the texts of Kobol the Lords have provided guidance but they've left our actions our own to make." Ramiro pauses. "I would never, ever play down what the Cylons did to our people but when you shove the anger and frustration aside you'll see that probably the people of the first Exodus asked the same questions." He lowers his voice again to a soothing tone. "Even outside of wartime we only get the present, we're never promised a future that we know of. Our reality is terrifying, but I see it as no different than a flood or a tornado or an earthquake. We've got to hold our memories and our moments so damned dearly, Greje. I'm scared too…gods I'm terrified. But when I pray to Apollo I feel that I am on the right path. Blame the Cylons, Greje, not the Lords. One way or another we will either survive this or we'll be greeted by them in the afterlife so that we can be reunited with our families."

Greje smiles softly. "I'm pretty sure it was the Cylons," she replies. "Of course, the Cylons were made in our image, made as mirrors of us. That was our hubris, wasn't it?" she muses. "Epimetheus loves Pandora," she adds as a figure of speech, along the lines of 'hindsight is twenty-twenty.'

"Yes…you're right." Ramiro replies, hands still on her shoulders. "It was our hubris and some of us have been left alive to redeem. We wouldn't have been given this chance by the Lords if there wasn't a possibility of righting this wrong." He pauses. "I've…requested a mission, I don't know if it will be approved, but I'm asking to be sent in back to one of the Colonies for deep recon. Behind enemy lines recon. I probably shouldn't say this, and it's just a request that I made, but I'm willing to risk it in hopes that we might be able to find some sort of leverage."

Greje's eyes snap to Dane's again, and she opens her mouth a short while before finally asking, "Leverage? Like… what?" she wonders, unable to fathom.

"We know little else other than they're trying to kill us." Ramiro replies, watching her face. "They aren't executing humans outright. On Leonis there were some that were alive even after the Cylon occupation. We don't know anything about their command, their structure, their needs or why they did what they did." Ramiro pauses. "If there's some way to force them to a stalemate or find a diplomatic route. If there's some way to…" He shrugs. "…get some sort of footing in this conflict, there's only one way to do it. A scout-sniper has the best chances of getting in and out without being seen."

Greje keeps watching him, eyebrows sort of half-furrowed as she does so, finally nodding her head with a look of concentration. "I see. That—" she cuts herself short and nods her head again, offering a smile, "That sounds like a perfect job for you, Dane. I can't imagine anyone else I'd want the task entrusted to. Apollo will make come to light that which he wishes to make clear."

Dane watches her with hawklike eyes. He blinks slowly and his eyebrows move slightly downwards. He slowly pulls his hands away from her and takes up his mug in silence, sipping from it. He sets it down again. "Pretend for a moment you're not Lieutenant Karthasi." Ramiro says, looking to her. "Because the idea of doing it scares me. I just…" He pauses. "…I can't think of anything else that I can do." He looks down. "I'm worried that I'd be left behind or that I'd go missing. I don't want to even begin to think about capture. I just figure it's better than waiting for the Cylons' first move. Perhaps we could find a way to predict them."

Greje reaches over to her desk (it's not a far reach) and puts her mug down. She slides a little closer and reaches out with both arms to wrap around Dane's shoulder and neck loosely. "I know you can't. Because it's a good idea. It's frightening, yes. You're frightened to be lost; I'd be frightened to lose you. But it's a good idea, and that's why you're going to pursue it. Even though you're afraid, you'd do anything to secure a future for us. No wonder you're so confident we'll have one. You've got such strength in you— and I'm not speaking as a Lieutenant. You know that. Don't you?"

One of Dane's hands rests up to hold her forearm as he nods, looking downwards. "I know that, Greje, I know." He looks back up to her, a contemplative yet vulnerable look on his face. "I'm worried about hubris. What if I'm mistaking all of this luck for Apollo's protection and I stretch myself too far? What if my death means other people lose their way? I shoulder a bit of burden myself." He gives her a little smile, somewhat lost to his thoughts. "Make me a promise, allright Greje? If I die, let it give you strength to show you what can be accomplished on faith, not a sign of doom to come."

Greje smiles quietly up at him. "Achilles was given the primal choice: long life or fame unending. He stretched himself beyond the limits of a man and won the acclaim of men and Lords on the field of battle… and a tomb worthy of him. It's the one common fact of all mortal life— that it'll end. Assuming that yours won't is hubris. Relying on your good judgement and skill to bring succour to your fellow men will only be your glory."

"Well you never know…" Ramiro smiles to her brightly. "…maybe I'll be given the same choice at some point. Maybe I've already chosen." He shrugs, giving her forearm a squeeze. His smile fades and he looks to her. "I promise, that if I do end up going? I'll be careful. I want to survive this too…allright?"

Greje returns the squeeze to the back of his shoulder, her smile broadening at his brightness, and she nods her head quietly. "Alright, Dane. Alright. And I'll be here when you get back," she tells him. "Tending the incense for you."

Dane's eyes make a sly look as he gives her an equally broad smile. "But even then, this is all just speculation. I might get sent back to Muskeg for dirty mud retrieval for all we know. I might not get sent anywhere." He beams back at her. "Now look at this…is this Sister Greje Karthasi smiling for a change?"

Greje lowers her head a little bit with a breathy sort of laugh, "It'd be a shame to run out of mud," she tells him, then, looking up, she nods sort of shyly. "Yes. I think so. You make it hard to stay worn down," she tells him.

Ramiro smiles out of the side of his mouth, giving her another sly look with slightly narrowed eyes. He squeezes her forearm again and watches her closely. "Greje…please. Don't ever be afraid to make up a story that I have an appointment with you when you need me around here okay?" He gives her a soft look. "I want to be there for you, you'd just be honoring me with the privelage."

Greje's eyes close a little, herself, comforted by the squeeze and almost instinctively shifting her arms to draw faintly closer, her head near his nearer shoulder before he speaks and she seems to gain a more objective awareness of the close embrace she's trapped him in, and a ruddy flush colors her pallid cheeks, her eyes shift away and she draws off of him, drawing her lips together in an expression of concern. "I— um— it's…" she coughs to try to make her words come to her again, evidently baffled for the moment. "I wouldn't take you from your duties. You do too much good around here," she draws up a smile again and moves to stand, suddenly a picture of awkwardness.

Ramiro, sensing the the embrace turn to something more intense, flushes and eyes the floor when she pulls away. One hand reaches to the back of his head to rub the hairs standing on end. Squirming a little, he reaches out to his coffee mug and takes a sip from the tea, holding it with both hands to conceal his face for a moment. "No it's okay I mean…" He stumbles over his words a little. A look of confliction crosses over his face. He looks to the ceiling as if sharing a private moment with his Lords. "…I…Greje…" He bites his lip and lets out a nervous breath. He chuckles to stomp away the tension like it's some sort of bug on the floor. "It's okay…seriously." He stands, daring a look at her. "It's seriously okay."

It might be seriously okay, but Greje seems about to hyperventilate as it seems that Dane felt some of the same thing she'd been feeling. She puts her hands on the short end of her desk for support, and no one would ever guess that this woman had ever set foot into a temple of Aphrodite, much less served there, so startled she looks by the whole thing, cheeks blanching white in turns with flushing red.

Ramiro sets his mug down as Greje leans over her desk. That look of concern crosses over his face again. "Greje?" He asks, stepping over and placing a hand on her back. "You…okay Greje?" He asks, leaning to the side a little to get a look at her white and red cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to…" He blinks, not quite knowing what to do. "…are you okay?"

Greje swallows roughly and then lifts the remnants of her tea to soothe her. She nods her head quickly but shortly several times. "I'm okay," she whispers. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" she utters almost simultaneously with him, then breaks off at about the same time, too. "I'm…" she looks down to her now-empty mug. "Yeah."

Ramiro retreats his hand, turning a little bit to his mug of coffee. The tension is thick enough to swim through and he knows it. Reactively downing the last of his tea, he sets the empty mug beside hers. "Don't apologize to me." He says with a shake of his head. "You're what?"

Greje moves around to sit behind her desk, perhaps in some effort to establish a sense of normalcy in the room, and also to compose herself with a few reviving breaths. She lifts a hand to her cheek as if to subdue the flushed heat radiating from it. "You apologized, too," she points out, with an attempt at a light-hearted smile. "I think… I think that we both know why?" she looks up into his eyes with a sort of half-cringing look as if thinking he might just say that he has no idea what she's on about and make her feel even more of an idiot than she already does.

Ramiro looks to her to see that half-cringing look. Flattening his lips, he swallows, a small upturn of one of his cheeks in a bashful smile and a little bit of guilt. "Yeah…" he says, looking to the top of her desk as he runs a hand through his head. "…yeah we do." He chews at his lip, looking back up to her. He takes a deep breath. "I've…got to be on standby for this jump we're making. I've got to go get suited up and check my rifle out of the cage." He says, giving her a way out of the stress. He smiles to her a smile that the school outcast would give. "Don't think this means I'm going to avoid you, Greje. I'll pray for you. Pray for me?" He says, turning as he starts to head towards her door, hinting at a possible combat drop coming up.

Greje nods, once, firmly, then another time, more gently, her smile returning in a less timid look as he seems to understand. She stands agan and goes around the side of the desk. "Of course I will. Good luck, Dane. I'll be… I'll be upstairs in the Chapel," she tells him, suddenly finding her heart racing as she nears him. "If you need me, after."

[Intercom] Attention! Set Condition Two throughout the fleet.
[Intercom] Jump stations. All hands to Jump stations. Viper pilots to ready stations, Jump clock in twelve minutes.. Mark.

The intercom goes off, Dane's about to be late for something again, always in under the wire. Hand on the door, he turns to look at Greje, one of his eyes partially hidden by a sly falling lock of hair. It's a fairly dangerous look of his when matched with that little smile of his. "Be well, Greje Karthasi…" He nods, swinging open the door and stepping out.

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