New Mexico / June, 1958 / 07:22
Mar. 14th, 2010 04:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bingobangobongoWhen Calavicci awoke, it was early. Too early to mention. Morning loomed as a concept -- darkness lingering in the pre-dawn hours. The horizon was just taking on some color, showing the contrast between the earth and the sky.
The drinking the evening before, coupled with the ridiculously long day they had shared sent Thrace to bed early. Albert had followed rather quickly, draped just as unceremoniously on his matching, opposing twin bed. The bed and breakfast had turned out to be a fine idea; a quiet and discreet get-away that appeared to be empty aside from the two of them.
Wiping away the sleep from his eyes, the young Lieutenant took a glance at his newly-found companion and was surprised to see she was already awake. He could tell she knew he was up -- her posture changed and her back straightened. Al squinted at her. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
He nodded and dropped back onto the bed, inexpertly tugging the bed quilt over himself. Covered from shoulder-to-knee, Calavicci tried to think about how nice it would be to catch a few more hours of sleep, but he was deterred from his goal by a niggling feeling. He listened to Kara's breathing, much shorter and hardly even compared to her sleeping state. It left him uneasy -- enough so that he didn't think he could cater to sleep.
"...borrow your car?" Barely there, her voice lost much of its inflection and strength.
Al sat up and found she'd turned even farther away. Her hair obscured her eyes, expression, everything the minimal light in the room would have allowed him to see. He was no fool, though: Being the type to appreciate women also afforded him insight into their mannerisms, and he could tell that something was definitely wrong. He nodded, even if Starbuck couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'll get the keys." While he had no clue where she was going, the way she said it told him he'd been right: something was amiss.
The keys were where he'd left them, half hanging from an empty beer bottle by the opener. Palming the keys, he fretted over the idea that he might never seen his beloved Lisa, the shiny red Corvette, ever again. He doubted Thrace would intend to steal it, just worried she might borrow it for a lot longer than he would have liked. "Sure I can't talk you into breakfast?" It was a puerile question in lieu of the mystery he'd already unraveled, but he thought it might help to break the tension.
When the Captain didn't answer, Calavicci frowned deeply. She had her hand outstretched for the keys, but she just didn't seem interested or able to respond. He took several tentative steps towards her and asked again, "Are you--"
"Fine," she snapped through her teeth and jabbed her palm-up hand at him in solicitation of the keys.
Al avoided her arm, small movements bringing him around her bed. Almost immediately, he could see the problem. Her knee, already aggravated from her crash landing, had swollen noticeably overnight. So much so that he could tell even with her flight suit covering it. Probably agitated from the minor amount of walking they had been forced to do while being held captive. He sympathized, familiar enough with trying to escape when there was no clear exit.
"Here." The offer of the keys didn't come without some hesitation. "But before you go--"
Thrace shook her head. "Don't." Her tone was low, almost dangerous.
But Bingo was not one to be put-off so easily. He cleared his throat and sat down uninvited next to her. "Now hold on, hear me out, all right? I think if you're going to take my car, you'd at least better let me have my say." Immediately, he could tell Kara was uncomfortable with the idea, but she remained sitting, her free hand pressed into her thigh, just above the knee.
Al cleared his throat, but it didn't help him to sound any more awake. "I know you're probably going to just... just go, but I'd like you to consider letting me help. I'm no doctor, but I can help." He'd dealt with his share of injuries and knew the principles of first aid well enough to feel confident in what he was offering. "Peeling off into the desert as fast the those wheels will take you is only going to distract you for a so long." He was pretty certain that had been her intention, and when she turned her determined face to look at him, he worried he might have been exactly right. She looked like she was in a considerable amount of pain and he hated to see it, but he wouldn't press.
For too long, they shared the quiet and the dark. The young Lieutenant could feel that she was shaking. The pressure she was putting on her upper thigh looked to be all she could do against the aching, swollen knee aside from grinding her teeth. "I would like to help," he finally revealed, hoping to take some of the stress or the decision off of her shoulders. "I promise I won't enjoy it too much."
Starbuck laughed, but it was more than that. Gasp, groan, hiss? All of it came out, pushed to the surface by his ridiculous comment. She only looked over for a second, but it was as clear an answer as Kara could give at the moment.
///
Preparations rarely went so smoothly. Calavicci took the steps in stride and precisely planned his shopping trip through the more intimate rooms of the bed and breakfast. He begged some Bufferin (a poor choice for this application, but better than nothing) from a locked downstairs bathroom, borrowed a tea towel full of ice, and outright stole a bottle of liquor from the cabinet, two glasses from the minibar, and a pair of shears from a kitchen drawer. It left him far too thrilled for his own good.
Hurriedly, he closed the door, noting the Captain had moved. She was pacing. Al deposited his provisions and fixed her with a look, dark gaze traveling up, lingering on the knee in question. Their eyes met and Kara lifted her chin. Needing no translation, the Lieutenant held off on any thoughts of lecturing.
"I've brought some things that should help." It wasn't so much a reminder of his intent as it was a reassurance that at least some relief was at hand. He took to emptying his pockets, dropping the bottle of Bufferin onto the bed.
Kara held her position. She didn't really like the idea, but she required Calavicci's help. She could have taken the car while he'd been gone but he was right: Even if she could drive, the throbbing pain in her knee was one hell of a distraction when she was at rest. She didn't quite know how to respond. "Uh, thanks."
Bingo busied himself with prep work, silent and dutiful in his task. His mind was wandering. He heard her shuffling behind him and it struck chord. That was a certain amount of stubborn bullheadedness there, wasn't there? He recognized that in the Captain as he sometimes did in himself. It would solve itself soon enough, he imagined. For as much resting as she had done, the pain appeared to have deepened. Rest would be a necessity.
His first step was simple. He lit a cigarette and immediately passed it off to Thrace. She took it, hit it, kept it and watched him. Calavicci then plucked up the bottle (it was whiskey) and poured two hearty double shots, each in a borrowed glass. He offered one and she accepted it with her other hand, leaving her without those extra balance points.
"It's a good pain reliever," Al explained.
Starbuck, hands shaking, dropped back the alcohol without a pause. She ran her arm across her chops and finally she sat. "You in pain?" Since he was drinking, she thought she'd ask.
"I'm here, aren't I?" He shook his head, an unfortunately short row of laughter escaping him. "It's a shame to have to drink alone."
Thrace nodded and watched him drink it down slower and smoother. And then he collected her glass and coupled it with the other.
Next was the Bufferin. He gave her two, but he didn't have any water. No matter, she took them dry, swallowing and succeeding to get them down unaided. Kara didn't know if it was the alcohol or his approach, but she noticed some relief. Only now remembering the cigarette, she ashed it in her free hand and took another hit. It seemed absurd to act so normally.
"You're going to have to let me get a look at that knee." Al's voice, low and gritty, was not commanding at all. It was curiosity, in part, but he also felt she would assess the damage done much differently than he might. If the roles had been reversed, the Lieutenant would have been professing his ability to run a marathon and dreaming of crutches in between his words.
Kara had been expecting it. "Yeah, fine." She hadn't looked in a while, anyway. Bingo held up the scissors, but she shook her head and passed off the almost dead cigarette before maneuvering herself halfway out of the flight suit. If it was all she had left of her old life, she wanted to preserve it.
Al tried hard not to look too intently. Under most circumstances he would was stared rather unabashedly, but he knew there was a time and place for such things and this was not it.
His first glimpse of the damage was a redness at her thigh where she had been pressing for who knows how long. It wasn't anything serious. Below that, the damage was more extensive. Her knee was angry and bruised but mostly just swollen. He could tell there had been troubles there before but he didn't need to tell her that. "It's pretty bad," he told her in the most sober of manners.
She didn't respond but she knew he was right. It would have been nice to have good, old, familiar Doc Cottle there but that was far too much to ask.
When he went to retrieve the tea towel and ice, Calavicci came back to find that Thrace had relaxed back a little more. The Bufferin was probably working some of it's magic and the ice would help even more. As carefully and gently as he could, he pressed the makeshift coldpack against her knee and winced in empathy when she did.
It was strange for him to be so close to a woman without being in a more intimate position. His fingertips touched her leg in one place or another while he held the pack; Al could tell just how rough his hands were in comparison. On another occasion, he certainly would have taken the time to show his appreciate for the female form but he, for once, couldn't put his mind of the sexual nature that could be gleaned from such proximity. Factually, he couldn't even relax until he felt that extra tension, caused by his application of ice, leave her.
Kara placed a hand next to his on the tea towel, taking charge of her own care now that he had provided some relief. Their hands didn't touch, but the contrast was enough to gain both their attentions. Al, olive and tanned, stood out against the tea towel and made Kara's pale hand look somehow smaller.
Calavicci felt like it was a quiet moment of understanding. They weren't all that different -- similar in principals and thrills, ambitions and expectations. When he finally removed his hand, he saw the look of appreciation in Starbuck's tight smile. But really, he didn't think it was anything she wouldn't have done for him.
The drinking the evening before, coupled with the ridiculously long day they had shared sent Thrace to bed early. Albert had followed rather quickly, draped just as unceremoniously on his matching, opposing twin bed. The bed and breakfast had turned out to be a fine idea; a quiet and discreet get-away that appeared to be empty aside from the two of them.
Wiping away the sleep from his eyes, the young Lieutenant took a glance at his newly-found companion and was surprised to see she was already awake. He could tell she knew he was up -- her posture changed and her back straightened. Al squinted at her. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
He nodded and dropped back onto the bed, inexpertly tugging the bed quilt over himself. Covered from shoulder-to-knee, Calavicci tried to think about how nice it would be to catch a few more hours of sleep, but he was deterred from his goal by a niggling feeling. He listened to Kara's breathing, much shorter and hardly even compared to her sleeping state. It left him uneasy -- enough so that he didn't think he could cater to sleep.
"...borrow your car?" Barely there, her voice lost much of its inflection and strength.
Al sat up and found she'd turned even farther away. Her hair obscured her eyes, expression, everything the minimal light in the room would have allowed him to see. He was no fool, though: Being the type to appreciate women also afforded him insight into their mannerisms, and he could tell that something was definitely wrong. He nodded, even if Starbuck couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'll get the keys." While he had no clue where she was going, the way she said it told him he'd been right: something was amiss.
The keys were where he'd left them, half hanging from an empty beer bottle by the opener. Palming the keys, he fretted over the idea that he might never seen his beloved Lisa, the shiny red Corvette, ever again. He doubted Thrace would intend to steal it, just worried she might borrow it for a lot longer than he would have liked. "Sure I can't talk you into breakfast?" It was a puerile question in lieu of the mystery he'd already unraveled, but he thought it might help to break the tension.
When the Captain didn't answer, Calavicci frowned deeply. She had her hand outstretched for the keys, but she just didn't seem interested or able to respond. He took several tentative steps towards her and asked again, "Are you--"
"Fine," she snapped through her teeth and jabbed her palm-up hand at him in solicitation of the keys.
Al avoided her arm, small movements bringing him around her bed. Almost immediately, he could see the problem. Her knee, already aggravated from her crash landing, had swollen noticeably overnight. So much so that he could tell even with her flight suit covering it. Probably agitated from the minor amount of walking they had been forced to do while being held captive. He sympathized, familiar enough with trying to escape when there was no clear exit.
"Here." The offer of the keys didn't come without some hesitation. "But before you go--"
Thrace shook her head. "Don't." Her tone was low, almost dangerous.
But Bingo was not one to be put-off so easily. He cleared his throat and sat down uninvited next to her. "Now hold on, hear me out, all right? I think if you're going to take my car, you'd at least better let me have my say." Immediately, he could tell Kara was uncomfortable with the idea, but she remained sitting, her free hand pressed into her thigh, just above the knee.
Al cleared his throat, but it didn't help him to sound any more awake. "I know you're probably going to just... just go, but I'd like you to consider letting me help. I'm no doctor, but I can help." He'd dealt with his share of injuries and knew the principles of first aid well enough to feel confident in what he was offering. "Peeling off into the desert as fast the those wheels will take you is only going to distract you for a so long." He was pretty certain that had been her intention, and when she turned her determined face to look at him, he worried he might have been exactly right. She looked like she was in a considerable amount of pain and he hated to see it, but he wouldn't press.
For too long, they shared the quiet and the dark. The young Lieutenant could feel that she was shaking. The pressure she was putting on her upper thigh looked to be all she could do against the aching, swollen knee aside from grinding her teeth. "I would like to help," he finally revealed, hoping to take some of the stress or the decision off of her shoulders. "I promise I won't enjoy it too much."
Starbuck laughed, but it was more than that. Gasp, groan, hiss? All of it came out, pushed to the surface by his ridiculous comment. She only looked over for a second, but it was as clear an answer as Kara could give at the moment.
///
Preparations rarely went so smoothly. Calavicci took the steps in stride and precisely planned his shopping trip through the more intimate rooms of the bed and breakfast. He begged some Bufferin (a poor choice for this application, but better than nothing) from a locked downstairs bathroom, borrowed a tea towel full of ice, and outright stole a bottle of liquor from the cabinet, two glasses from the minibar, and a pair of shears from a kitchen drawer. It left him far too thrilled for his own good.
Hurriedly, he closed the door, noting the Captain had moved. She was pacing. Al deposited his provisions and fixed her with a look, dark gaze traveling up, lingering on the knee in question. Their eyes met and Kara lifted her chin. Needing no translation, the Lieutenant held off on any thoughts of lecturing.
"I've brought some things that should help." It wasn't so much a reminder of his intent as it was a reassurance that at least some relief was at hand. He took to emptying his pockets, dropping the bottle of Bufferin onto the bed.
Kara held her position. She didn't really like the idea, but she required Calavicci's help. She could have taken the car while he'd been gone but he was right: Even if she could drive, the throbbing pain in her knee was one hell of a distraction when she was at rest. She didn't quite know how to respond. "Uh, thanks."
Bingo busied himself with prep work, silent and dutiful in his task. His mind was wandering. He heard her shuffling behind him and it struck chord. That was a certain amount of stubborn bullheadedness there, wasn't there? He recognized that in the Captain as he sometimes did in himself. It would solve itself soon enough, he imagined. For as much resting as she had done, the pain appeared to have deepened. Rest would be a necessity.
His first step was simple. He lit a cigarette and immediately passed it off to Thrace. She took it, hit it, kept it and watched him. Calavicci then plucked up the bottle (it was whiskey) and poured two hearty double shots, each in a borrowed glass. He offered one and she accepted it with her other hand, leaving her without those extra balance points.
"It's a good pain reliever," Al explained.
Starbuck, hands shaking, dropped back the alcohol without a pause. She ran her arm across her chops and finally she sat. "You in pain?" Since he was drinking, she thought she'd ask.
"I'm here, aren't I?" He shook his head, an unfortunately short row of laughter escaping him. "It's a shame to have to drink alone."
Thrace nodded and watched him drink it down slower and smoother. And then he collected her glass and coupled it with the other.
Next was the Bufferin. He gave her two, but he didn't have any water. No matter, she took them dry, swallowing and succeeding to get them down unaided. Kara didn't know if it was the alcohol or his approach, but she noticed some relief. Only now remembering the cigarette, she ashed it in her free hand and took another hit. It seemed absurd to act so normally.
"You're going to have to let me get a look at that knee." Al's voice, low and gritty, was not commanding at all. It was curiosity, in part, but he also felt she would assess the damage done much differently than he might. If the roles had been reversed, the Lieutenant would have been professing his ability to run a marathon and dreaming of crutches in between his words.
Kara had been expecting it. "Yeah, fine." She hadn't looked in a while, anyway. Bingo held up the scissors, but she shook her head and passed off the almost dead cigarette before maneuvering herself halfway out of the flight suit. If it was all she had left of her old life, she wanted to preserve it.
Al tried hard not to look too intently. Under most circumstances he would was stared rather unabashedly, but he knew there was a time and place for such things and this was not it.
His first glimpse of the damage was a redness at her thigh where she had been pressing for who knows how long. It wasn't anything serious. Below that, the damage was more extensive. Her knee was angry and bruised but mostly just swollen. He could tell there had been troubles there before but he didn't need to tell her that. "It's pretty bad," he told her in the most sober of manners.
She didn't respond but she knew he was right. It would have been nice to have good, old, familiar Doc Cottle there but that was far too much to ask.
When he went to retrieve the tea towel and ice, Calavicci came back to find that Thrace had relaxed back a little more. The Bufferin was probably working some of it's magic and the ice would help even more. As carefully and gently as he could, he pressed the makeshift coldpack against her knee and winced in empathy when she did.
It was strange for him to be so close to a woman without being in a more intimate position. His fingertips touched her leg in one place or another while he held the pack; Al could tell just how rough his hands were in comparison. On another occasion, he certainly would have taken the time to show his appreciate for the female form but he, for once, couldn't put his mind of the sexual nature that could be gleaned from such proximity. Factually, he couldn't even relax until he felt that extra tension, caused by his application of ice, leave her.
Kara placed a hand next to his on the tea towel, taking charge of her own care now that he had provided some relief. Their hands didn't touch, but the contrast was enough to gain both their attentions. Al, olive and tanned, stood out against the tea towel and made Kara's pale hand look somehow smaller.
Calavicci felt like it was a quiet moment of understanding. They weren't all that different -- similar in principals and thrills, ambitions and expectations. When he finally removed his hand, he saw the look of appreciation in Starbuck's tight smile. But really, he didn't think it was anything she wouldn't have done for him.
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Date: 2010-04-21 02:10 am (UTC)He had to ask. "Was yours?" It may not have really been her last adventure, but he knew she had gone into it thinking that way. Bingo could feel it, deep down. Of course, it did help that she talked about never seeing her family or friends again, and being unable to go back. But in the half-sleep he was in, Al wasn't counting on those facts -- just the feelings deep down in the pit of him.
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Date: 2010-04-21 02:43 am (UTC)Of course, her mother's hand in hers had felt real too.
As that crossed her mind, she opened her eyes again, needing to see what she could in the gloom. That the tree house was still there around them reassured her and the young lieutenant solid beside her confirmed it: she was alive and for the moment, safe. Kara supposed she couldn't want for more, so she closed her eyes once more, welcoming sleep.
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Date: 2010-04-21 07:42 am (UTC)Their next leg of the journey was the last thing on his mind before allowing himself to drift off. Come the time morning (or a close approximation) rolled around, they would probably have to relocate. That, or risk being under the scrutiny of some passing member of the Clinton, Oklahoma neighborhood.
Just a walk down the road to pick up the bike, and then they could be on their way, whether it be to a motel for a brief respite, or on the road to advance their journey. And Bingo would just have to later deal with reinforcing himself against the hollowness he knew her departure would leave him with.
[ILU! Feel free to skip to morning, or even put them in their next stop (which I think is Jasper, Alabama.) XOXOXO!!]
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Date: 2010-04-21 11:42 am (UTC)“Dunno.” Then, a second later, “She’s pretty.”
“Don’t get so close, Katie!”
“I’m not, ya big baby. ‘M just... lookin'.”
“I’m gonna tell mom.”
“I didn’t do nothin’! Whatcha gonna tell on me for?”
“No, dummy, I’mma tell ‘er there’s people in my tree house.”
“It’s half mine, too!”
This was the whispered argument Kara awoke to the following morning. It took her a full thirty seconds to even remember where she was, and another five to guess she wasn’t in any danger. As soon as that was cleared up, she ventured opening her eyes to view her wake up call.
A young blonde boy and girl stood about a foot away, watching her. The boy looked wary and advanced a half-step in front of the girl when he saw Kara open her eyes. Katie smiled and stepped boldly around him, kneeling beside Kara. “Where are you from? TT thinks you’re from the Moon, but he’s dumb. I think you’re from ‘Rapaho.”
Kara smiled back in spite of the headache blooming behind her eyes. Disentangling herself from Calavicci and emerging from their cocoon beneath the sleeping bag, she sat up, fighting hard against a wince. She wasn’t nauseous, so she put the headache down to having spent the night on a cold, wooden floor, and she flexed her neck in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure there. That done, she offered her hand to Katie. “Not the Moon or Rapaho, no. I’m from Santafey.” It was the first place name (other than Mishigin) than popped into her head, and she hoped it’d be good enough.
Katie took her hand and shook it very seriously. TT advanced and appraised Kara once more, seeming to come to a conclusion right away. “My Aunt Minnie lives in Santa Fe,” he said plainly. “Why’re you in my-“ Katie let go of Kara’s hand to elbow TT, and he amended quickly, “-our tree house?”
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Kara yawned. “Sleeping,” she told him, deciding the truth was somewhat easier in this case. After a beat, she added, “It’s a very nice tree house – we just couldn’t resist.” At that, she reached back toward Calavicci, shaking his shoulder to rouse him. She didn’t want to have all the fun without him.
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Date: 2010-04-21 08:38 pm (UTC)"This is a members-only clubhouse," TT said firmly, pressing his bottom lip out as he placed his hands on his hips and stared at Calavicci.
"Members onl--" Bingo propped himself on an elbow and blearily eyed TT. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but he was smarter than to let on to that fact. "That shouldn't be an issue," he said, thinking quickly off his feet. "I've been a member of the Detroit Central chapter since I was ten. And that's a long time," he assured the children, nodding along with them.
TT's mouth hung open. "Wooooow..." He practically had stars in his eyes.
"Yeah, but that's not here" Katie reminded her brother knowingly. For whatever reason, their roles seemed to switch. Now Katie was being the protective one.
"I know that," Bingo interjected. "I understand what you're saying-- what's your name?"
The girl lifted her chin. "Katie."
The young lieutenant (junior grade) smiled at the girl. "Well, Katie, you can call me Al. And I know I'm not a member of this clubhouse, but if you'd've showed up at mine, all you would have had to tell me was that you were from the Clinton Branch and I wouldn't of thought of it again. We're all pals here, right?" He turned to look at Kara who gave a tight-lipped smile in response.
Katie huffed. "Yeah, but she's not-"
"They're together, stupid," TT interrupted. He offered his little hand to Thrace. "My name's TT."
"Thaddeus Thomas." The sister giggled.
TT whined. "Kaaaaatieeee..."
Al laughed and shook his head. "Well, TT, Katie, thank you for letting us use your tree house. If you're ever in Detroit..." He left it at that.
Katie seemed crestfallen. "You're leaving? Can't you stay and play?"
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Date: 2010-04-21 10:49 pm (UTC)Katie frowned and her chin quivered for a moment, but she bit her lip and offered her hand as Kara had done. "Yer welcome for the hospicicality."
Soberly as she could, she shook each child's hand, watching as Al did the same before climbing down through the floor. From the ground, she looked up to see TT and Katie watching them go. She waved goodbye again, feeling strangely buoyed by the little exchange. Of course, she didn't have to think too hard on just who little Katie reminded her of. She hoped one day, she'd be able to bring Kacey and her mother back into Clinton... Clinton Wherever-They-Were. They'd fit right in.
She turned and stretched, working even more knots out of her back and neck, waiting on her companion. "Sleep well?" she asked nonchalantly, leading him across the lawn (keeping just out of sight of the windows looking over the yard).
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Date: 2010-04-21 11:27 pm (UTC)He was thinking about those kids, though -- thinking about how young they were and how well they had responded. It always excited him to relate because then he was young. Perhaps not chronologically, but mentally, which was all that every really counted. "Gosh, those kids were pretty great, weren't they? I've always loved the honesty of a child. They have such... virtuous faces, don't they?" Uh, sure, Al. Whatever you say.
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Date: 2010-04-21 11:50 pm (UTC)Practiced in the fine art of avoiding the subject, she just nodded and gave a noncommittal, "Hmmm." She pointed them in the direction of the little bar, surprised at how far they'd walked in the night. It didn't much matter though as stretching her legs felt great, and the hot sun on her neck was even better.
"Perfect day," she remarked. "Great for flying." And she just let that one hang in the air for a moment before glancing at him, squinting one eye into the sun. "How far will get today, do you think?" Not that it mattered what he said - the miles yet to travel and the place names he told her held no meaning, but at the same time, she needed to hear it. She and the rest of the Fleet had been flying blind for so long, just having an X to mark the spot relieved her.
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Date: 2010-04-22 12:58 am (UTC)If they had more time, he would have taken his time and showed her around Memphis. Sadly, he didn't think they could spare it -- not if he wanted to get some sleep before he had to report. Which he did want. And felt he needed. But this... this felt important.
Of course, he could call and beg a little time; tell a little story about his car and fake some misery. But he doubted they'd give it. They would want to know about her. Really, what could he tell them? Her name? Her rank? The fact that he had been drinking when she crashed was more than enough to refute any evidence he put forth. But they would ask. They would want to know why he, of all people, had been found with her.
Bingo lit both cigarettes thoughtfully and then handed one to the captain. "How's the knee, kid?"
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Date: 2010-04-22 01:13 am (UTC)They approached the tiny bar, closed up tight so early in the morning. The bike was just where they'd left it, sparkling prettily despite the fresh coat of road grime. "Breakfast in another town? I figure we'd best get goin' before TT and Katie rumble us for a coupla liars," she teased, climbing onto the bike and settling in as if she were going to drive. She nodded over her shoulder, tossing him a grin. "C'mon - I'll lead the way for a change. You can have a little nap on the way."
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Date: 2010-04-22 01:45 am (UTC)Dispensing of the remainder of his smoke, he then crawled in behind her. "You know, captain, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fraternize with the troops. 'Course, after what you've told me about bein' the best, I can't expect you to want anything less than that." Tongue in cheek, he produced a mysterious pair of shades and offered them up to her.
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Date: 2010-04-22 01:54 am (UTC)She slipped the sunglasses on and modeled them over her shoulder, the remainder of her cigarette between her lips. Oh, how very cool you are, Starbuck.
She knew she was, too, and that was one of her biggest assets. When she was at ease, confident, game for anything, she was unstoppable. And right now, all she wanted were the keys. Kara held out her hand expectantly.
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Date: 2010-04-22 02:11 am (UTC)Bingo dropped the keys into her grasp and waited for her to be ready. As soon as they were on the highway, they would be able to plan out a little place to stop for a meal. Perhaps to wash up, as well, since they were both bordering on indecent in the smell department.
Calavicci ruffled his hair and rumbled his voice over her shoulder. "Let's see how you fly."
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Date: 2010-04-22 02:24 am (UTC)She leaned forward, unable to resist gunning it a little bit. The sound roused a half dozen ducks in a church pond a block over take flight, and it imbued Kara with the same sense of rightness she felt in the cockpit of her Viper. She was surrounded by the noise, the rumble of the engine, the thrill of predictability and danger; she leaned into it, smiling.
"Hold on," she called back to him, kicking up off the ground and catching her balance naturally. He'd said he wanted to go a little harder today, hadn't he? Well, Kara took it upon herself to see just what the bike could down, and as soon as they hit the town line, she opened 'er up and laid the asphalt behind them.