Outside Milliways

[can_finish_them]

It's a nice day outside, sunny and still but not too warm, and Kaidy has had a long and busy (though not entirely unproductive) week, so she's doing something she always finds calming: she has targets set up on the lawn outside the bar and is practising with her handgun.

She's not a bad shot but it doesn't come naturally to her, which means she has to concentrate. It used to frustrate her that not everything came easily, but these days - now that she's got the knack - she actually quite enjoys having to concentrate on something in order to get it right. It's an opportunity not to think, and the mechanical repetition - load, lift, aim, pause, fire - is oddly soothing.

So she's smiling to herself faintly, as the bullets march closer and closer to the bullseye.

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[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin isn't really paying attention when he opens his front door. It's not really a thing he needs to concentrate on. He does it most days, though admittedly, not every day. Today he's getting in from an unexpectedly fun trip back from Findel, Luxembourg. The doorstep then, doesn't really rate, and the step is slightly further down than he's expecting, which is why he stumbles and only just catches himself before he realises that he's not actually in his house.

Oh look.

A grin crosses his face. Oh yes. Today is getting even better.

He reels the grin back in a little, there's no cause to go alarming the general populace after all. He's not exactly ready for dinner yet, so he doesn't head straight for the bar, but he does enjoy exploring this place and he never seems to find the same room twice.

---

He pushes through a heavy doorway and finds himself outdoors. Odd, but definitely not as odd as the garage scrapyard.

Fair enough. He'll go for a walk. The weather's promising.

He hasn't gone far when he hears the shots. They sound controlled rather than like some kind of terrifying gunfight, so he heads towards rather than away from them. It turns out to be a wise decision, as he gets closer and spies first the targets themselves, and then Kaidy.

He waits for her to pause before calling out.

"Hey! Kaidy!" He's grinning like an idiot again as he approaches.

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At the sound of her name Kaidy raises her head, grinning when she sees who it is.

"Hullo, Captain Crieff."

She'd been intending to reload, but instead puts up the gun now that she has company. "Nice uniform."

She does love a man in uniform, as the old song goes.

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

He stops before he does a twirl, knowing from some experience that twirling whilst moving is a terrible idea. Especially on grass. Though to be fair, the last time he twirled on grass he was quite drunk as well.

"I think it looks better without the film of engine grease, but I could be wrong."

As he reaches her he's not sure whether to go for a hug or a kiss, so instead of choosing he reaches out and plonks the hat onto her head.

"You look busy." He says, still grinning.

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She comes quite close to saying that it would look even better on her bedroom floor, but she's making a concerted effort not to push it.

She giggles when he twirls for her and laughs harder when he drops the hat on her head, reaching up to adjust it to a suitably jaunty angle before she leans in to kiss him.

"Would you believe me if I told you this was my idea of relaxing?"

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

She looks good in his hat. Especially when it's jaunty. It's not a word usually associated with women necessarily, but she definitely looks rakish. Martin approves wholeheartedly of Kaidy looking rakish.

The kiss, as always, cuts him a little off guard. He's never really expecting her to kiss him, though he is getting much, much better about it. He pushes back into the kiss for a long moment or two. He's missed her. It hasn't been too long, but long enough, and he can't help her being in his thoughts more and more often.

"Mmm. I would. Believe you I mean. I'm not sure I'd find it relaxing exactly, but then most people wouldn't find reading flight manuals relaxing." He shrugs and smiles in a slightly apologetic kind of way.

He does read them from time to time, mostly because he knows the vast majority of them off by heart, and the dull familiarity is comforting in times of stress.

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She smiles at him, her eyes dancing.

"Same reasoning, really - repetitive procedure and all that." Her fingertips are still at his jaw; she gives him another quick, light kiss like an echo, just for good measure. "Have you ever shot before?"

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Kisses are always good. Even when they're only tiny.

"No. I've never had the opportunity, to be honest. When Simon was 12 he took up archery for about a year and a half, and I had a go at that once, but it was just kind of dull."

He smiles. "I imagine guns are different though."

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He can always have more later.

"Can't say I've ever tried archery, but I'd imagine so, yes."

She's had the odd go with the crossbows Nix and her crowd use when they need to work quietly, but never really had the need to use one properly.

"Would you like to have a go?"

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin thinks about it. It's not just that he's never had the opportunity, he's not really sure how he feels about guns, but then, he's never going to know exactly unless he tries, and he'll only be firing at targets which he probably can't hit anyway.

"Hmm. Yeah. Okay." He nods firmly. "Maybe it'll be relaxing for me too."

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"It used to do my head in," Kaidy admits. "It's not one of my natural talents. But it's quite calming once you get the knack for it, because you can't aim properly without a cool head."

She takes the gun out of its holster and clicks open the chamber, showing him how to load the bullets.

"Three rules: every gun is loaded, at all times. Even if you know there are no bullets in it, even if you can actually see it doesn't have bullets in it, treat it as if it does. Second: only ever point it at things you don't mind destroying. And lastly: it's not a toy, but at the end of the day it's just another tool. Don't be scared of it."

She flicks the chamber shut and secures it, then offers the gun to him, grip first.

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin nods for each of the rules. They make absolute sense, and while he's finding this possibly a little worrying, he supposes you shouldn't have a gun anywhere near you if there aren't any rules. (When Martin is told something that's obviously for his own bloody good, he does listen because he's not actually an idiot, even if he does do some stupid things at times.)

He takes it from her, and it's heavier than he's expecting, but then it's basically a lump of metal. Obviously. He shifts the weight and shape of it in his hands until it's comfortable, or at least feels less strange.

He points the gun at the grass, and certainly nowhere near himself or Kaidy, but he's, well, curious. He's never even seen a gun in real life until now, and he's not entirely sure what to make of it. He checks it over and this bit is instantly recognisable as the trigger, and this switch is probably a safety catch, although whether it's on or off, he's not sure, so he keeps his fingers well away from the trigger.

"It's heavy." He remarks, after probably a little too much time has passed. But really, it's a new experience.

"So. What now?"

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"Yes, that tends to surprise people."

Hollywood lies: who knew?

"Stand three-quarters on to the target," she tells him. "You're right-handed, aren't you?"

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

"I am, yeah." Martin replies, and turns while looking at his feet. "Is this right?"

Yes, he's seen the movies, but they're probably all lies. But he trusts that Kaidy knows what she's doing.

[can_finish_them]

Some (considerable) time later...

When Kaidy wakes up, it's still just as dark as it was when they fell asleep, but the faint moonish glow from the vidscreen on the wall shows her angles and curves: the pale white arc of Martin's shoulder, the light-lined tilt of his jaw, ruffled curls of hair turned reddish-silver. He's curled on his side, clutching the pillow as if expecting to be dragged away from it, and even in this trace of light she can see how tired he looks; when she leans across to press a kiss to his shoulder, he doesn't stir even a breath. She wraps an arm around him again and carefully allows herself to drop back against the pillows, breathing slowly, her smile so self-satisfied that even Douglas Richardson couldn't match it, and lets the clock slowly count its way to 6:50 before she moves.

Even when she slips out of bed Martin barely stirs, though he mutters something until she gently tugs one of the blankets back over him. Frankly she'd really like to stay, but her boss will ask very pointed questions if she's not at the morning briefings, and Challie Harper has earned herself the nickname of 'God' from her staff for very good reasons.

"House? Lights to 1," Kaidy orders, voice little more than a murmur; the light level raises a fraction, just enough to let her find herself clean clothes and boots without tripping over the tumbles of discarded clothing from last night. She keeps one eye on him the whole time she dresses - if he wakes she'll explain where she's going - but Martin never stirs again, so finally she directs the lights back down to zero and slips out, boots in one hand, leaving him to sleep - and a note on the door, just in case.

Outside, in the little communal lounge she shares with Ariel, her flatmate watches with considerable amusement as she laces up her boots.

"So who did you bring back last night?" he demands, grinning evilly at her from behind the mug of tea he's nursing. "Don't try to tell me you did no such thing - you're practically radiating smugness. It wasn't that redhead from before, was it?"

"Well, funny you should say that..." Kaidy, completely shameless, grins back at him as she straightens and accepts a mug for herself. "Come on, I'll give you the gory details on the way."

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

It's possible that Martin shuffles backwards into the space she's left. The bedsheets are warm and the bed comfortable. His feet migrate to her side of the bed, possibly in search of other feet to tangle with, but in finding none they continue their wandering search.

The upshot of this gradual shift is that Martin has some very pleasant dreams and there's no alarm to wake him, so he ends up lying diagonally across the bed. Still clutching a pillow. It smells of Kaidy, she can hardly blame him for cosying up to it.

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Kaidy, meanwhile, has been sitting through the most tedious briefing meeting the world has ever known. She normally finds them fairly interesting, but the longer this one drones on for the the more and more she twitches (and the more and more Ariel smirks at her): she drums her fingers, deliberately forbids her feet to tap, fiddles with the cigarettes which she knows full damn well she is absolutely not allowed to smoke.

To be fair, a sizeable chunk of the reason for the twitching is her need for a cigarette (although it's... probably fair to say that it's a long way off being the only reason) so when they're done, and Maisie Jay's inevitable last interminable question has faded into mutual incomprehension, she lets Ariel and Jack drag her off to the only area where the air con is currently not buggered for a cigarette. Or two.

And possibly there's a certain amount of gossip, and possibly there's slightly more teasing, and possibly that's actually three cigarettes she winds up smoking before the party finally breaks up, with Jack heading off to feed her dogs and Ariel and Kaidy finally heading back to their digs, maybe an hour and a half after they left it. They aren't entirely quiet as they enter - but, in their defence, they're forces: it doesn't occur to them that anyone could possibly sleep later than 8:30 or so.

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin, by contrast, is used to the occasional odd noise from students, Arthur, plumbing, Arthur and even (on one memorable occasion) squirrels, and very much knows all about catching as much sleep as he can get when he can get it.

He hasn't had a lie-in for a while and he works very hard at both of his jobs.

So it is that come Kaidy and Ariel's return, Martin is still very much comatose. He twitches a little, registering sounds, but deems them far less important than continuing in his rest.

(Sorry Kaidy, but you'll have to try harder than that to turf Martin out of your bed.)

[can_finish_them]

Well, there's no obvious signs of movement: Kaidy and Ariel look at each other, shrug, and put the kettle on. Ariel produces a packet of bacon from their tiny fridge, making Kaidy snort.

"You are the worst Muslim ever," she informs him. "Bacon? Really?"

"I'm also half Jewish," Ariel reminds her, because clearly that makes it ALL better. "And more to the point, I just pulled a thirteen-hour nightshift, so shut your ugly Anglo face and pass me the frying pan."

At length, and with considerable intervening squabbling, three bacon butties and three mugs of tea are produced, and Kaidy loads two of each onto a tray and makes for her bedroom.

"I'm going to bed," Ariel says loudly, as she opens the door, "So don't scream too loudly, all right?"

"Fuck you, you doughnut," Kaidy retorts good-humouredly, and closes the door behind herself.

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

From somewhere that's probably not in his dreams, Martin registers some appetising smells. There's the round, mouth-watering smell of bacon somewhere, and the back-of-the-throat catch that goes with really strongly brewed tea. Mmmmm.

Martin shifts in the bed, his stomach making its presence known, and helpfully, because it is morning, and he is still on the verge of sleep, his bladder chimes in as well.

He presses his face into the pillow still further, not quite awake, but not able to drift off any more, and refuses to move because he's just found the comfiest sleeping position and he wants to stay in it forever. He's not entirely firing on all cylinders yet, and hasn't really grasped the events that have lead up to this moment.

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"If you can actually sleep through the smell of bacon, I'm going to assume I accidentally managed to pick up an alien from Milliways," Kaidy announces, shoving stuff off her desk to find somewhere to put the tray.

"I mean, I'm not judgemental, but..."

She looks down at him and smiles, reaching out to touch his arm. "Morning, Red."

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin's response is a grumbling sort of moan, conceding to the defeat of wakefulness over sleep. He lets go the pillow after a final squeeze, and rolls onto his back, dragging the sheets with him.

It isn't until after the first yawn as he lies supine with sheets tangled about his waist that he registers first of all Kaidy's voice and then, by extension, her presence.

He blinks at her blearily, hair flattened on one side and sticking up on the other. He has a crease from the pillow across one cheek. Ah.

He's about to say something stupid like 'Hello', when his stomach firmly announces its presence and does the talking for him. He huffs in amusement and levers himself into a sitting position.

"Uh. Morning." He smiles at her.

It takes a little work not to suddenly flash her. It's all very well that she saw him naked last night, but right now she's got all her clothes on and he hasn't.

That and eating breakfast naked would be really weird.

Once situated upright and covered to his satisfaction, his concentration sharpens.

"Did you say bacon?" He asks, hoping very much that she did.

[can_finish_them]

Well. She has all her clothes on for the moment.

"House? Lights to three."

And with the lights up a bit (not startlingly bright, but good enough to see by), there's at least an improvement in her chances of seeing him naked again... preferably after the hot food has vanished, admittedly.

She grins, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek as he sits up. "I might have done." She takes both plates off the tray, sitting down next to him on the bed with them. "Ketchup or brown sauce?"

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin is suddenly rather aware that he hasn't brushed his teeth or anything, and surely he ought to have done, but he hasn't really had a chance, and anyway he doesn't have a toothbrush with him...

"Oh, er, brown sauce please." He smiles at her.

He'd really quite like to nip to the bathroom and wash his hands and wake up a bit before eating, but realistically this would mean extracting himself from the sheets, as well as actually finding the bathroom.

And his pants. At some point he really should find those. Yep.

(The bathroom is probably the door they didn't come through from the Bar, but he'd rather not take the chance that actually it's a hallway while he's naked.)

[can_finish_them]

Pants are highly over-rated... most of the time.

Kaidy laughs, passing him the right plate. "I'd apologise for vanishing on you, but it didn't seem like you missed me."

[honestlyapilot.livejournal.com]

Martin takes the plate gratefully. He is far hungrier than he'd thought.

"Thanks."

The bacon is still hot, the brown sauce perfect, if a little drippier than is actually useful.

"Be fair, I was asleep." He says, through a mouthful of sandwich.

"I was tired." He adds, a little indignantly a moment later, while licking brown sauce off his thumb.