Participants:
| Scene Title | Navy Coffee |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cat and Liz hang out on the observation deck of the USS George Washington. |
| Date | Dec 26, 2009 |
Somewhere in the Indian Ocean aboard the USS George Washington.
Standing near the rail on a safe part of the carrier, where there's no duty activity ongoing nor flight operations, Cat's eyes are closed for the moment. She draws in a deep breath, expression wistful, and enjoys the salt quality to the air. Hair is held back in a ponytail which moves slightly with a gentle breeze, clothing is fairly simple. Boston t-shirt and jeans. So much warmer here than it was in Russia.
A hand lifts to her mouth and a yawn is emitted, showing some lingering tiredness after the previous day's transit and whatever other things took place. Her eyes open, and a hand is lifted to partly shield her eyes as the sun is just breaking over the aquatic horizon. She's facing east.
When Cat got up to head out of the cabin, Elisabeth wasn't far behind. She managed to get herself a pair of pants and a shirt that look …. well, they look pretty military, honestly. It is, after all, a pretty limited Navy Exchange that is stocked aboard the vessel. But she did manage to find a pair of sweatpants with US Navy emblazoned up the side of one leg, a pair of really good running shoes, and a sports bra and white T-shirt that are appropriate enough. Her blonde hair is also caught back in a ponytail, the better to keep the wind on the deck from whipping it out of control. She's carrying two mugs of coffee as she joins the brunette at the rail of the observation deck above the carrier's launch deck. "Thought you could use this," she says mildly. Below, quite a ways below truth be told, there are naval personnel scurrying all over the deck getting ready for the day's operations. There are always aircraft launching and landing around here — helicopters, jets. It's quite loud, but in the early hours of sunrise near and below the equator, it's still quiet.
"So it seems I have decent sea legs," she relates as fingers close around the mug and pull it closer to her. Cat's eyes reclose as she inhales the aroma, then tests the heat of the liquid contents by taking a careful sip. "Navy coffee," she muses, "I've heard they like it with a pinch of salt."
Once eyes open, they train down on the flight deck where she watches operations in progress. People in clothing colored to mark them distinctively for the jobs they do and protective gear such as helmets and goggles. But absolutely no baseball caps. A number of them are walking in a line across the deck, spaced out evenly, with eyes trained carefully on the flight surface.
"I think President Washington would be proud to have his name on this."
There's a brief grimace and Liz admits, "Mine aren't so great. I'm okay out here, but every time I go inside, I start feeling a little off kilter." She shows Cat her wrist, where a sea band resides now. "Medical said this would help. We'll see." The pinch of salt comment gets no response, really, as Elisabeth takes the time to also enjoy the quiet morning. How many days of quiet we get remains to be seen. "I'm sure you're right," she finally says to comment of Washington's pride. Resting her elbows on the rail, cradling her steaming cup in both hands as she does it, Liz's blue eyes skim across the deck and its inhabitants. "Doesn't feel much like Christmas, does it?" In spite of the trees that have been put up in a couple of places on board. Christmas dinner was turkey and gravy down in the mess, and Liz was more than happy to sit with the military personnel stationed so far from home and share carols and laughter. "Best Christmas gift I could get is seeing the Madagascar and Argentina teams landing on the deck."
"I'm mostly immune to holidays," Cat replies before another sip of the dark liquid, eyes trained again toward the east. "Kinda lost the enjoyment for them last year." She doesn't elaborate further, her features are neutral. "But seeing the teams brought aboard would be very good, I agree."
She'd been quiet most of the time as caroling happened, but was perceptive as ever. "That lieutenant commander had his eyes on you," Cat muses, chuckling. "I'm pretty sure they ban sex on board, though. Helps hold down the possible issues, in their view. And while aboard, we're under the UCMJ too."
There's a startled look. Elisabeth moves to stand upright and sips her coffee. "He's a good-looking man," she says of the aforementioned lieutenant commander. "And I have to admit that I'm tempted. Might even succumb," she admits with a faint grin. "Unlikely, but possible." She looks out over the water. "But I think I learned my lesson about hiding from my fears and feelings for one man with another one. I think… that I hurt a friend that way recently," she says quietly.
"He is," she remarks with a muted grin. Cat has neither confirmed nor denied her own temptation to go for a ride. Silence follows, the cup she holds being lifted from time to time and drawn from as eyes continue focusing out over water. No comment made on the topic of hurting someone, just a door left open to speak further if the blonde so decides.
Glancing at Cat, Elisabeth admits softly, "I turned to a friend after a fight with Richard. In general, about the time I fight with a guy is about the time it's over and done with." She grimaces a little a looks thoughtful. "I don't really know why that's the case," it's lost somewhere in the decade of memories that she no longer remembers, "but I know that I generally can't be bothered with a relationship that even looks like it might be long-term." She smiles just a little. "I think…. that this friend was hurt when it wasn't… more than it was. And I owe him a pretty damn huge apology for using him. I didn't really…" She shrugs a little and looks back out over the water. "I was running away. I don't know if I want one man to mean so much to me. Guess it's a little late to worry about it, considering the damn L word's all over the place."
"Been there," Cat replies somberly. "Still there, probably always there. Haven't shared my bed with anyone in over a year, though I've mated. Haven't even taken another person into the bedroom for any reason, carnal or non. No commitment, no talk of attachment or anything long term, not given what my life is. I don't let anyone get that close, won't permit it of myself." Her cup lowers, eyes remain focused in the distance.
"Because I know what my choice would be, if I were ever in that situation again. It wouldn't be in the lover's favor. Not fair to enter defined relations which might carry the impression of that person coming first, before all others. And I won't be so cruel to myself as to suffer that sensation of betrayal again."
Elisabeth glances at Cat and says quietly, "I don't think my issues are quite the same. My shrink…." She laughs a bit at that. "My shrink seems to think I have my head on pretty straight. And for the most part, I do. This thing with Richard sort of blindsided me. Not because I care about him — I don't generally go to bed with men I don't have at least affection for. I just… most guys are fine with the idea that they're dating more than one person, but when a woman does it, it wierds them out. Richard's… fine with it. And I'm fine with whatever he's up to; it just seems a non-issue, you know? I just…. keep waiting for something to happen, and whatever it is that I'm waiting for, some bad thing, just hasn't happened. And I refuse to lose another man that I love without at least… trying to make it work." She grimaces. "That's assuming he's survived this mess so far. Kershner says the other two teams have suffered heavy losses."
"Argentina was out of contact, I was told, until I was contacted about the need to secure Grigori alive," Cat supplies, "Nothing was said about losses suffered, though there was a sense of things being sugarcoated. As to Madagascar, a man on the ground with them said they'd been hit hard. He thinks Claire Bennet, Candy Allard, and Sanderson are probably dead, after what happened to them." She looks skeptical about at least part of that, however.
"And I don't quite think Mr. Redbird is capable of dying."
A faint smile is Cat's reply. "I don't think Claire is capable of dying." Though the thought of it puts a knot in the blonde's chest. Claire is… a good kid. And Elisabeth doesn't want to have to tell Noah Bennet that she has failed to look out for his girl. She promised. "I hope you're right that reports are greatly exaggerated."
Sipping her coffee and leaning on the rail one more time, Elisabeth says thoughtfully, "You brought your guitar with you. I think…. that I'd like to do something for the crew here." She looks at her companion. "I know you're not much into the holiday, and frankly… I'm a little too worried about our friends to really be much into it, but … you saw them last night. It'd… be a nice way to take everyone's mind off things, don't you think?"
"I've seen Claire die before," Cat relates, "and I mean die, die. She got sick and croaked over the summer, Arthur had dispowered her. But Delphine was around, and soon as she reversed Arthur's mojo Claire came back. Then there's what Arthur himself taught me; simply hearing someone is dead doesn't make it true. I prefer to see the body. And even that might be false."
Then there's more enjoyment of dark nectar, and eyes closing. "There'll be playing, rest assured. I'll find a spot and set up, just start and play for a while, maybe we'll come across some musical sailors and officers to join in. Low key, no fanfare, but not hidden away either."
There's a bit of a nod at that. Elisabeth figured the reason Cat brought the instrument was this one. She sips from her coffee silently for a while, watching the brightly dressed people below. "That'll work." She can see people in the olive-drab flight suits starting to appear on the ground below, pouring from a door beneath their feet. "It's about to get real loud up here. I'm gonna watch the launch and then go in. Let me know when you want to do it."
Looking back at the flight deck, Cat sees the FOD walk is over, and planes have been brought up from the hangar deck. "True enough," she agrees about loudness, and a nod is given. "I will. First the launch, then it'll be time to go find out the quality of Navy breakfast." She eyes the cup. "Navy coffee passes muster."
Elisabeth snorts. "No. It really doesn't," she laughs. "But I promised a certain lieutenant commander that I'd keep company with him and his guys for breakfast." She winks. "See you down there."
Conversation ends moments later as a jet aircraft moves into position and suddenly accelerates forward, being literally flung off the deck with engines at full throttle. Sure, the audiokinetic blonde could manage sound to permit continued conversation, but what for? It would take away from the spectacle and experience.