Cocoa Beach, FL | February, 1959 | 14:02

[bingobangobongo]

[Post-scuba training, the aspiring astronaut known as Al Calavicci (Bingo, to most,) finds himself held somewhere between satisfyingly tired and exceptionally charged. Knowing Cocoa Beach to be the stomping ground of one Kara Thrace, he hopes to take the time to seek her out before returning to the Cape for more training.]

[As luck would have it (and often does with these two,) Bingo spies the one person he happens to know in the area. She is down the beach, still recognizable on this dreary and overcast February weekday, and very obviously unaware of his existence at this moment.]

[Let's pretend he doesn't think he's god's gift to women, and that he doesn't bother changing into something other than his swim trunks because he's afraid he might miss her leaving in the meantime. Sadly, we can pretend, but it's hardly the truth.]

Comments

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Of course, though I'm surprised you haven't said something about how I look good enough to eat. [Tries on his 'fake hurt' face but just can't sustain and laughs.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

The way you shut me down earlier, I got the impression you weren't interested in my thoughts on the subject. [He's not serious, no, because Bingo doesn't often believe when woman seem uninterested. But this isn't just another woman, this is Kara Thrace. So, he leans forward and weaves his fingers together on the tabletop.] I could elaborate for you...

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

No thanks. [Gives him a wolfish grin of her own.] My imagination's fully operational.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Halfway through an involuntary moan, he tries to turn it into a cough. Uh, yeah, Bingo's going to pretend like he didn't just have an outward reaction to the internal flutter she caused with her words.] And mine now, thanks.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Well, let me distract you. [Beckons for a waitress.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

A two-fer deal? Sounds great to me! [And you'd better believe he's eying both Kara and the approaching waitress, imagining all sorts of things.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[To the waitress.] Michelle, give this guy whatever he wants as long as it comes outta the kitchen, all right?

[Michelle nods and sizes Bingo up, gives Kara a Look, then returns her undivided attention to Al.] You heard her - you name it, I can make it happen.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Oh! Well, that's interesting, isn't it? Kara has some obvious pull. Al grins and tilts his head amiably to Michelle, all the while thinking her hips are about perfectly proportionate.] How about a milkshake -- strawberry if ya got it -- and a BLT, then.

[ace-thray.livejournal.com]

Strawberry milkshake? Cute. [Nods and spins around, heading in the other direction to put in the order.]

[Kara watches Michelle go with Bingo, smirking.] She likes pilots, y'know.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Oh, yeah? Sounds promising. Don't suppose she'll be coming out of the kitchen any time soon...

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Just hope she remembers to bring you what you ordered, Bingo. [Laughs and takes another taste of her beer.] So I know I said no work talk, but tell me - you getting any closer to those stars of yours?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Awwwwww, work talk? Really? Calavicci takes a loooooong time to process her question through the haze of dirty thoughts, finally sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table.] Every day feels like a few more feet. It's... [He shakes his head, very obviously overwhelmed by his varying feelings on the prospect.] Almost unbelievable.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Almost. [Looks past him, eyes dark for a moment before refocusing on him.] What's next for you?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

After re-cap, we're back into stress testing and training. Every three months. I don't know exactly what they're expecting us to gain from all of it. One day I'm baking in an oven, the next I'm buried in the sand up to my ears. Heck of a thing.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

But you're not complaining, right? [Have a skeptical eyebrow.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Are you kidding? I nearly killed Gibbs for fucking up one of the tests. We were paired for an exercise, so when he came in late because he was taking an extra long powder, I had to stay in the tank for the extra thirty minutes he earned. [Grumble grumble.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[Cue Michelle, toting a strawberry shake and a turkey club - sorry, Bingo.] Aww, you poor thing. You just tell me if there's anything else I can get to make you feel better after all that. [Winks and wiggles off toward the other customers accumulating for late lunch/early cocktails.]

Yeah, you 'poor thing.' [Snatches a potato chip, gesturing with it before popping it into her mouth.] You know there are thousands of people who'd sell their soul to be in your shoes.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Mm. Blondes.] Just my shoes? I must not be doing something right.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

At the moment? Not particularly. [Laughs and finishes her beer just as the bartender gives her another.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Observing Al is observing this.] So, you work here, then? Or are you just a highly respected regular?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Both, actually. [Gestures grandly to their surroundings.] You still want to bitch to me about training?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Ruefully.] I didn't know we were comparing misery.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

I'm a pilot, Bingo, not a fucking waitress. [Takes a long drink, turning from him to face the mirror above the bar.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[What can he say to that? His first instinct is to be snappish, but he can't pretend he doesn't understand how important flying is to her. Or why she feels the way she does. So, he swirls the straw in his milkshake and apologizes anyway.] I'm sorry, Kara. I shouldn't have said that.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[She shrugs, looking at him sidelong. It wasn't an apology she wanted - more just someone to sympathize.] It is what it is.