JL | Cmdr Valeese, LtCmdr Stacker | "Crickets" pt 2

Posted on Sat Oct 14th, 2017 @ 12:22am by Commander Valeese Stacker

James’ brow furrowed in thought at the idea of an ensign's face meeting a Klingon's fist - certainly having some personal suspicion of what the resulting chaos might have looked like - he missed both her movement and picking up the discarded leaf. Its tap on his nose, though, was hard to miss. As was the question that had preceded it, which had only begun to register when the leaf descended. His good eye swung around, opening slightly with trace surprise as he saw her watching with what could only be characterized as rapt attention. "The what?" The devil is the 'monster mash'? his face seemed to say as that eye seemed to turn inward in thought. He hadn't been gone from civilization for that long. It sounded, to him, like a Core-world-Federation thing.

"That makes two of us who haven't heard of it much." She mused, trailing the barest tip of the leaf along the line of his nose. Experiments were always fun, seeing how people would react when having to think and experience uncharacteristic stimuli chief among them. He wasn't failing her when it came right down to it, exposing more and more of the man hidden beneath the stone as she elicited each candid response, "The song says it's a graveyard smash. I can't fathom why anyone would want to smash a graveyard, but it was worth the inquiry seeing as you're Terran and all." Barely, and yet so very, she thought, her eyebrow quirked.

The eye, finished with its inspection of her all-too-interested face, closed as some indulgent grunt rumbled in his chest. "We humans can be a strange lot. I'm sure you know that by now." He pursed his lips, blowing upward at an angle, making the leaf shake and skitter across his skin. Some part of him knew, or at least strongly suspected, she was trying to elicit a reaction of sorts. Another part was curious how far she would push it. Just how far would a Vorta who so strongly took a no-limits approach to medical and scientific research go? He would admit to curiosity, mostly because he'd never served - the leaf tickled his skin again, and his eye cracked a little open, regarding her in return, noting especially the bright violet eyes that somehow seemed much clearer and alive in darkness.

"Some of the strangest," She agreed without shame, "That Horta you saw earlier in the day... They come in as a strong second." An ode to dry humor, she delivered the jab without worry or hesitation - but he'd walked right into it, left the door swinging wide open in the breeze. She'd have been a fool not to take it for what it was and run with it. The question now became whether or not he purposely exposed that hole in the armor of his admittedly tenacious wit because of the sensation brought about by the leaf, a hypothesis that stuck out given the way he blew on and toyed with the thing, or had there been something else? Had she disarmed him? It begged further exploration, and she was no slouch when it came to research. About the time he opened his eye to watch her, she'd gone ahead and allowed the leaf to trace the soft umber of his unimpeded eyebrow to his temple and along the contour of his cheek, "What about the one eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater?"

"I'm about six seconds from ripping up that leaf," he grumbled into the darkness, eye closing once again. There was some strength there. No malice, though. This was a very far cry from Stacker the Operator. Stacker the Gundog, veteran of Hill 557. It almost invited a body to forget that under that skin, a very dangerous man sometimes did lurk and come out to play. Right now, though, he found himself mentally giving a touche to the Vorta, wondering himself how he'd opened up that particular door. Two very different officers with similar thoughts. "And there's definitely no thing like the one eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater. Starfleet would've classified it a threat. Which would've meant a bulletin on my desk." The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Five..." Valeese began to count, deadpan as anything as the leaf trailed along his jaw, "four..." it played along the side of his neck before rising to hug the curve of his chin, the hair of his beard creating drag and a sound quite different than leaf on skin, "three..." it toyed with his soul patch, a grace of hair just south of his lip that intrigued her most of all, "two..." it traced the lip itself, skin that was surprisingly soft in contrast to the man's surly nature, "one..." with no warning at all she tapped him on the tip of the nose again. If he was to destroy the leaf, she'd need to extract every drop of fun she could have from it before the chance was gone. "And for the record," the Vorta began, "I don't believe you about the people eater. I believe there is a bulletin on your desk." she all but purred, smug and smarmy as could be.

"Is that so?" he responded in a voice that was remarkably steady and clear, even as a hand came up to enclose her wrist and his eye opened and glanced first at her hand, then her eyes. The grip was powerful and strong, but nowhere near what he could muster in total. Incredibly, he offered up something that was a borderline wink as the other hand swung up, plucked the offending leaf from between her fingers, and proceeded to crush it with a hoarse and crunchy sound. Bits of leaf fell from between his fingers and onto the black uniform. "I believe two can play at this game. And don't say I didn't warn you, either."

"That it is." She challenged, watching his fingers close about her dainty wrist, the darkness of his skin a shock compared to the lily hue of hers. At no time did she feel threatened or hurt, and something told her that had she wanted to escape with the leaf intact, she'd only have to flick her hand and be done with his touch. The playful light glittering in his eye confirmed it, but still she let him continue - crumbling the poor, defenseless, maple leaf and depositing it across her, "You did, Captain Flint, you did." Valeese rolled slightly, engaging her core as she used her other hand to straighten out his patch, "and I'd be remiss to admonish you for your destruction of that sad, lonely little leaf after such a warning." The hand at his patch went back to cradling her head and the hand he held in her wrist remained prostrate aside from the occasional flick of a finger in what appeared to be boredom, or a damn good feign at it.

That damned quirk had reappeared again in the corner of his mouth, even as something in his chest was thudding a little faster. Was his armor crumbling? Maybe. Maybe not. "Maybe I should go back and check for that bulletin." He released her wrist, brushing leaf fragments from her uniform, fingers perhaps pressing a little too firmly. "After all, a good department head is always keeping an eye on things. Or providing good advice." He flicked one larger fragment off her side, just above her waist, fingers taking care to make their presence known. The fabric of a Starfleet uniform just wasn't made for things like this, some rational and far-away part of his mind concluded. Just because ... well, there was nothing saying he couldn't enjoy himself ...

"The purple people eater one?" Valeese questioned with a simper, listening to the sudden shift of the staccato tempo of his heart. The two beat rhythm was a sniff quicker, gathering steam as it were, about the same time that he freed her from his grasp and set about cleaning up his mess. These were actions she found most intriguing. Fingers curried across her uniform, unseating bits and pieces of maple with great care and lingering satisfaction in a trail that seemed most haphazard, but self assured. There was no denying his ubiquity, though the definition of it still remained a mystery. "Maybe you should. Would be a shame to have people eaten by something that apparently likes short shorts, if the song is to be believed." She'd likely have shivered if it wasn't for the safe roughness of her uniform sparing her the majority of his touch. Tactile sensation was her kryptonite and he was coming perilously close to figuring it out. It was a good thing that none of those little bits of leaf had made it near her neck or ears. Still, as he removed one from her hip, she couldn't help but wonder whether or not the Terrans were as sensitive as she was. "Because really... Short shorts? Embarrassing." Had to. Talking gave her mind a target while her fingers took the chance to guide him to a missed bit of maple along her belly.

Was that nearly-roguish eye twinkling in amusement, as he slid a little closer to her? Moments before he'd actually been about to take her up on the offer and get up to go check for such a dispatch. Instinctively, on some level, there was the awareness that such a step might lead to frustration in a human female - which she decidedly isn't, he thought as he felt her warm fingers on his hand, guiding it elsewhere. That act - capturing his hand with her fingers - had persuaded him to stay. Was it her doing, because of scientific curiosity? It was an interesting thought meriting further contemplation, but really, remaining detached and restrained in some way was becoming harder on his part - and so it was put aside for now. "Absolutely," he said by way of agreement, buying time. Quite accidentally on his part, part of his breath washed across one pointed and fan-like ear.

The bright violent of Valeese's eyes were extinguished when they snapped shut at the sensation of warm breath radiating against her ear. The hair partially covering it did nothing to save her from the brief infraction where the game no longer remained in her control and she remained perfectly frozen beside him with her fingers curled against his, flexing and coiling back against that anchor point. Ducking her head and turning her face towards him, the eyes came open again and she was left with the need to reclaim ground that had been precariously lost. Leaves were valuable tools, she decided, at least thus far. "I'm glad you agree. Perhaps you should write a bulletin about short shorts being dangerous to lives on the station?" An eyebrow lifted as she sought to cement her position.

The sharp reaction had taken him momentarily by surprise, but by the time her eyes had reopened his one good eye had found balance again. His mouth opened a a tad amount as if to say something, which died on his lips as a corner of his mouth quirked. The words which emerged were agreement, at their core. "I'm sure security will have some thoughts on the matter. It should be very entertaining." He wiggled his fingers, detaching them from hers - although not without brushing them over the back of her hand, as amusement crinkled the corner of his eye.

"You'll have to bring me word of their reaction. Or wear a camera." She mused, studying her hand for a brief second. It wasn't any worse for wear, but the sensation of his touch remained, lingering as a whisper, for several seconds longer. He could have been considered dangerous for any one of several reasons, but she found herself far from worried... Perhaps she should have been given the very nature of her existence compared to his, but there they were and she'd learned so many things in such a short time. Now she knew, she'd seen, the hint of a man far less loathesome than the one that had lumbered into her office earlier that day and time would tell what could be cultured of him yet, "Latinum, and all." When she rose from the grass, she did so using his chest and shoulder for her own stability, pushing off from them in order to find her feet - and when she did she gave a lazy little stretch that spoke volumes of her confidence... Though she knew damage had been inflicted. The soft, porcelain and pink skin of her ear and neck had sent a fair share of endorphin rushing through her system, leaving it begging for something she wasn't completely certain she should grant it.

He watched her walk away and disappear into the shadows, whisper-quiet like a wraith. A very unusual wraith - if such a term could even be applied in her case. Perhaps 'viper' was more appropriate, he thought, as his control and armor gradually returned the farther she got from him. And so he waited. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. When his watch showed twenty, he pulled a small device from the small of his back, wincing where the surgical tape that had painstakingly held it in place parted from the skin. It proved to be a tricorder, a very slim model, which when turned on confirmed to him that she was well outside audible range.

His fingers tapped his commbadge. "Stacker to Parsuv."

"I am here sir."

The lieutenant commander was silent for a moment, thinking on what he'd learned. What was high priority? Ah, yes... "Talk to me about the good commander's computer habits. I'm wondering about off-station comms to Ferengi or 'loose cannons' in the sector."

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Commander Valdeese
Chief Medical Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170