2237-01-07 - Clean Bandit

Eva and Finn are of a like mind during laundry detail. Also, just ew.

Date: 2237-01-07

Location: Laundry, Deck 8, //Galactica//

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 942

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If there is such a thing as the dead of night on a battlestar in space, it's usually immediately after a mission and for about one or two shifts after, when the returning away team members are either debriefing, sleeping, eating, or whatever else you do when you're not doing your job. It's also one of the few times that the laundry is actually NOT packed, so you have to pick your battles. In Eva's case, she's chosen opting for laundry over sleeping. Not that she looks very happy about it. The washer she's standing next to gets a extra hard slam, as she shoves a set of sheets inside. The only saving grace to this moment, is that she's muttering to herself in Celtan, and not in Standard.

Finn, having been on duty at the same time as Eva, apparently had the same idea, though he shows up a few minutes later with his laundry. In addition to a laundry bag slung over one shoulder, his gym duffle is slung over the other. He moves through the porthole into the laundry and smirks a bit as he hears the door slam and the muttering. It only takes a few moments to spy the red haired pilot, and Finn makes his way in her direction, tossing his duffle, then laundry bag onto the floor a few feet from her as he moves towards a machine. "Evenin' Cherry..." he glances to his laundry, then to her, "Great minds, huh?"

Eva's head snaps up, her occasional resting bitch face in full actual bitch face mode. She looks ready to chew out whomever it is that's decided to invade her laundry. That lasts about a split second, until her mind clicks out of outrage mode and recognizes Finn. Her eyes drop to the washer, and the bottle of soap she's using, and she sets it down. She's tall enough that when she marches over in Finn's direction, she makes quick work of the few feet separating them. She should probably say hello, but instead, she seems intent on body slamming the Aerilonese man. Well, not really, but the fierceness of her hug and the force with which she applies it are considerable.

There is an audible oof from Finn as Eva's body collides into his and he rocks back a step from the force, but he doesn't draw away. Instead, his arms come to wrap around her waist with the natural sort of comfortability that comes from long hours spent in one another's company. Finn takes in a quick breath and steadies himself, "Good to see you too..." He continues the hug even as he speaks, keeping his voice quieted due to proximity.

Eva keeps hold of the hug for a few long moments, face turned into Finn's neck. Taking comfort, perhaps, in the familiarity of him, which is as much the feel of him, his voice, his smell. Yes, they have spent long hours in each other's company. Her voice, when it comes, is slightly muffled by the fact that she hasn't lifted her head, and has a trace of something in it that is a rare emotion in Eva's world, fear, "I thought I was going to die. I'm really glad you're alive." Yes, the massive battle with the cylons was quite a few shifts ago, but apparently she's needed time to process. And clearly she hadn't seen him since she's been back. She finally looks up, loosening her hold enough to look him in the face. And in her more usual slightly acerbic tones, she lets go of him with one arm, keeping hold with the other, to chuck a thumb back at her washer, "Also, someone frakked in my bunk and it was not me." Hence the need to visit the laundry when she should be sleeping.

It's true, Finn's been busy the past few shifts. He keeps his hold on Eva for the moment, until she tries to get free of him. "I'm alright, Cherry, five by five...You know me, I'm untouchable." Hardly, but Finn likes to pretend. It's easier than accepting the truth. He sighs light, leaning his forehead against hers when she draws her head back from his neck, letting out a breath. Then she tells him why she's down here and he lets out a laugh, "Frak, seriously? Any idea who it was? You gotta get em back for that you know."

For the nonce, Eva seems happy enough to stay where she is, though she does make concessions to his need and ability to breath without having to fight a chokehold, and lowers the arm still around him from around his neck to around his shoulder. She studies his face, as if she could find something there beyond just, well, the features she's already familiar with. "Untouchable, really?" Her fingertips alight on his cheek, a playful smile curving the corners of her mouth, before she leans in, forehead to forehead, seeming to take comfort in the gesture. His laughter breaks what might have become a rather somber mood, as his question brings her head back around to the conversation at hand, "Yes, seriously. I mean, what the ever-loving frak? I get it, you need a space, maybe yours is occupied, but at least clean up afterwards, change the sheets, something. I went to lie down and I landed in the wet spot." Eva shudders, physically, as well as mentally just thinking about it. "I'm going to need another shower if I keep thinking about it. And no, I do not know who it was."

There is perhaps the slightest bit of tension in these moments. That line between wingman and friend to something vaguely more intimate being toed at but not actually crossed. The length of the embrace would at least make people wonder. Still, Finn does nothing to separate himself from Eva and instead just smirks at her amiably, "Definitely untouchable." A beat pause and his smirk turns to a grimace, "That sounds...gross. Really frakking gross. No one has frakked in my bunk since I was an Ensign."

Eva's fingers slips away from Finn's cheek, trailing down along his neck and collarbone to settle on his chest, "Is it a personal bubble...a forcefield? It must be turned off at the moment." She waggles her eyebrows, "Aerilonese military secrets, am I right?" For Eva's part, she has not before and doesn't seem to care now, how it might look if anyone were to see them together like this. Hell, lately she's been spending more time in his bunk than he does. Her tone, in answer to the final comment, is definitely teasing, "Really? Not even you?"

"I only turn it off late at night in the laundry room. You just got lucky you were here with me this time." Finn replies, his smirk returning to his lips. "Only Aerilonese pilots are so well equipped. No one else has such luxuries." He'll need to install a security camera over his bunk though to make sure he knows what's going on in his bunk from now on...He grins at her then, "In that bunk? No, not even me..."

Eva opens her mouth, and from the look on her face, whatever she's about to say is going to be hella inappropriate. She holds up a hand though, one finger extended, in a 'one minute' gesture, "Don't say it, Thorne. Do not say it." Apparently, she has need of this pep talk, because she manages to curb what she was about to say. "I would offer to help you change that, but..." She looks back at all of his gear, "Might be safer to ask if you need help with your laundry."

It looks like Finn has some difficulty in stifling the barest edges of a laugh. He watches her compose herself, smirking idly to himself and patiently remaining quiet. He arches a brow at her and the smirk fades into a grin, "Nothing says you can't help me with both, but we can start with laundry, eh?" And then he pauses and blinks as he was about to withdraw from her and go to grab his laundry. He doesn't and instead asks, "Safer?"

Long familiarity also breeds the ability to read each other's intentions from the smallest clues in body language, and Eva was also in the process of starting to disentangle herself, because really, nobody's getting any laundry done while she's clinging to him like a lamprey, when Finn's comment catches her offguard. Yes, it's all just flirting, probably, and it's just sort of how wingmates sometimes tease each other, probably, but it still brings Eva's head up. And there's something of that being caught offguard in her voice as well, as she tries to get her thoughts back on track, "I know the logistics of laundry."

Eva's reaction causes Finn and pause briefly, eyes scanning her face. He lifts a hand to touch the side of her face lightly, "So...what you're saying is..." he trails off a moment, considering and then says, "You don't know the logistics of the other thing?" he arches a brow at her. "That's sad..." He grins and withdraws his hand a moment later, "So...the logistics of laundry?"

Eva has never been one for lying, or keeping unnecessary secrets, but even she knows the concept of over-sharing. Still, lying to Finn is simply out of the question. That's now how they operate with each other. "That's what I'm saying." Finn already knows about the seedier parts of her life in the Virgon military. Not a place you want to open yourself up. In any sense of the word. "Girls, okay, boys, not so much." That's probably over-sharing. Eva's expression shutters, at the comment, and she finally slips out and away, "My life is sad, Farm Boy, tell me something I don't know." She bends down, grabbing his duffel and tossing it onto the laundry bank, hands at the zip. "It's not going to wash itself."

"Basically just all opposites, right?" Finn tries to offer helpfully. If the transition caused him any concern or bothered him, he doesn't show it. "You don't have to tell me, Cherry. Can't be any sader than mine." He turns and starts towards the machines as well, taking up the laundry bag to follow Eva. "Are you sure? Because I heard that on Caprica, they have self washing clothes in their houses that clean themselves. You sure we didn't get those kinds of uniforms and sheets?"

"Is it that simple? Just do the opposite of everything you'd do with one with the other?" Eva looks back at Finn, "That seems very simplistic to me." A hint of her smile returns, before she dives back into the task at hand. Eva, no stranger to laundry detail, reaches out to flip up three of the closest washer lids, and starts sorting and tossing Finn's clothes into the open basins with near surgical precision. All perfectly sorted as she goes. "Serious mad laundry skills." A snort of laughter at Finn's comment, "Well, this shirt," a casualty of a double CAP shift, "is stiff enough that it could probably walk itself to the laundry, but I don't think we're quite on that level yet. Besides, when are you or I ever going to see Caprica?"

"Pretty sure it's definitely not that simple. There's probably a book about it somewhere..." Finn offers quite helpfully. There are actually probably millions of books on it. He hoists the bag onto the level area between two washers and starts to put the items from that bag into the machines, following suite along with her mad laundry skills. He eyes the shirt and smirks, "That shirt and I have had some good times. Hours and hours in a cockpit sort of times."

"Are they the sort of books you only read on a tablet, because you don't want anyone to see the covers?" Because even in this galaxy far, far, away, bodice-rippers exist. She squints her eyes in her wingmate's direction, "Do you love a good trashy romance novel, Finn O'Day?" Eva offers as she catches sight of some items which should be in one of the washers she's filling up. "Pass those over here." She looks down at the shirt, "I do not want to know how you amuse yourself in space."

"I don't talk about those books in laundry rooms. It's unseemly." Finn replies in a haughty sounding Caprica accent. Or his version of it. It's generic, he isn't made for the theatre. "And I only love them when they are set on space ships fighting aliens in far off galaxies." That part at least is true, based on his actual collection of books, which are all in the science fiction genre. Finn eyes her a moment then and sighs, passing the bag over to her. "That's between me and my viper..." a beat pause and he eyes her then the shirt, "And that shirt."

The attempt at an accent draws a peal of laughter from Eva, before she tries to get all 'serious' again. Because this is a serious discussion. Right, right? "So when do you talk about those sorts of books? Is there a monthly book club? Everyone gets together and shares tips they gleaned from hours of furious reading?" Eva finishes off the sorting quickly enough, setting aside the manky undershirt, and uses her bottle of detergent get the loads on her side started, before she sets the bottle down close to your hand for you to use on yours. "I see. So you're into weird alien sexscapades." She picks back up the shirt at the center of the conversation, gives it, and Finn, a pointed look, and tosses it into the wash.

"I only write about it. In my dream journal. Where I write about all my sensitive man feelings." Finn retorts and he takes the bottle she sets down near him, pouring detergent into the three machines with the practiced work of a military officer whose been doing his own laundry for a decade or so. He doesn't need the cap to measure. "There are no alien sexcapades..." He pauses and considers, "Ok, so there was one alien sexcapade...But just the one."

"Hope you keep that under lock and key. You don't want anyone knowing you have sensitive man feelings." Eva puts down the lids on the machines and gets them all started, before she heads over to her own washer, which has long since finished. She opens the door and then pauses. "I sort of don't want to touch them. Even though I know they're clean." But however skeeved she is, she can't just get new linens. It's not a free-for-all at the Quartermaster's. "Man up, Thorne." She drags the sheets out of the washer, and bundles them up, throwing them into a dryer, before she hops up and plunks herself down on an empty folding table to wait out Finn's wash cycle. "Sexcapades are like potato chips. You can't have just one."


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