A freshly bruised Erin comes across Beckham in the mess hall, and they discuss various things in preparation for the mission on Canceron.
Location: Mess Hall - //Vanguard//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1007
Forget about the preamble. No need to get into it, right? People come to the Mess Hall to eat. That's all. No chit-chat.
Erin flops down in a place across from Beckham because she can. There's no one else there. Of note, she has a bandage wrapped around her head. And it looks like she took a punch to the eye and one to the mouth. Not that it seems to bug her much, but her face is a little less pretty and a little more blue than normal.
"Sparring. Got out of hand." That's her explanation, which is given before Beckham can make a comment. And it sounds like she doesn't want to talk about it. "How's the -- " Erin gestures at the sandwich with a fork. " -- manwich?" Herself, she has a light salad made of sandwich fixings.
Lifting his brow as Erin makes herself at home across from him, there's a touch of amusement as Beckham considers her. "Should I ask what the other guy looked like?" he asks with a grin as he takes another bite. "Filling." the big Marine offers as he continues. "You know, they do offer pads and protection for sparring, just so you're not bothering the medics later because things as you said; got out of hand." he points out between bites.
In response, she shrugs her shoulders. "Discretion's the better part of valor, and there wasn't any valor in what we were doing." Erin's answer falls with a thud. "We had pads and protection, but -- " Snort. " -- that was before things happened." That's it, see. Things happened. "It's all right. Things've worked out."
Critically, the Scout eyes the Medic's material. "What're you reading up on? Pyramid 101?" Ooh. Solid burn. Better get some aloe.
"Have you had someone check the injuries, or does your discretion involved evading the sick bay as well?" Beckham asks curtly, suddenly a bit more serious as he sets aside his sandwich and rises from his seat for a moment. Why? He goes over and gets some hand sanitizer, rubbing down his hands as he moves back to sit next to Erin, and starts to look over the Scout's injuries more critically. "Actually, it's the latest field manual on field treatment for various water-based injuries, including snakebites and other water bourne animals." he explains.
"We're going to be on Canceron soon - again - for disaster relief and I want to make sure I'm prepared. And I need to make sure you're prepared; with both eyes working, so that you can help spot those that may need assistance, and considering how close we are going to be to an occupied zone, an eye out for Canners. So I hope that it is worked out."
"I'll be fine." Erin's response is as stiff and curt, matching tone for tone. "Eye'll be black, and my lips -- it wasn't like they were being used much anyhow." Beat. "I'll be fit for service, Sergeant. There's no reason for concern."
Sitting next to Erin makes her a tad more wary, as if she expected Beckham to toss a snake at her, or something. For science. "I do not carry medical equipment with me, so, yes, I've been to sickbay." Shrug. "My report may have been evasive. No need to get anyone worried about what happened. As I said: it's worked out, all right? Just soldiers letting off some steam."
"Mmhmm, boys being boys." Even if she's very much firmly a girl. "Let me at least take a peek and make sure it's healing right." Beckham doesn't offer much in the way of quarter, his tone firming up as she becomes more squirrely and evasive. "I'm not gonna bother to ask what brought this on, but I'm sure your mouth had something to do with it, or perhaps a slight inflation of ego after a Pyramid victory."
Fine. You want to touch the Ice Queen? Don't blame her if it hurts in the end.
Erin remains still for examination. And not eating. At first, she says nothing at all to dispute either potential causes. But then, she speaks. Very quietly. "Someone was giving someone else a hard time, and I didn't like it." Beat. "I may have sucker-punched him in the mouth after I had my equipment off."
That's the proffered explanation, at least.
"You realize, Corporal..." Beckham moves to lift the bandage to get a better look at the eye beneath it. "...that we are all adults on this ship and more than capable of taking care of each other should the need arise. Though I will admire your effort at being someone's knight as proper." Which won't be terribly much as he takes a good long look at her eye, using his finger to track her movement. "Close your good eye and follow my finger." he orders.
"Any bluriness? Double-vision? Adversion to light?"
Erin's eye appears to be operational. "No, no, and no." Those are her immediate answers.
"If we're adults, we all should act like adults, Sergeant. Adults don't pick on other adults for shits and giggles." That may have been the first time Erin has sworn in front of anyone on the ship. "I don't have many lines. Maybe seeing what I saw reminded me too much of some time long ago. Whatever. I did something I shouldn't have, I apologized, we all moved on, I think." Grunt. "Tempers flared. That's all. We're good."
"I dunno, you asked me if my book was about Pyramid." Said dryly, Beckham's fingers gently prod the broken skin to make sure there's no signs of fracture or complications, as the medic completes his exam and lowers the patch back into place. "When you lay down for rest, get a cold pack to place on the eye to prevent further swelling." he offers as he rises to his feet. He scrubs off his hands again to move to sit across and continue on his sandwich. "At least you weren't trying to impress anyone."
"You're different. You're not an adult."
Erin may have smiled, briefly.
"And who said I wasn't?" Shrug. "Gotta stand out somehow. Can't be reading books all the time." Which she does. "If it makes you feel better, I plan on laying down after eating." Beat. "Speaking of which -- "
She gestures at her plate with her fork. "Are you done checking me out, Sergeant?"
"I've been done, Corporal." Beckham snorts a little. "I didn't want to linger, you might have made you melt just a little." he offers with a small chuckle as he takes another bite of his sandwich and smirks at her. "You're attractive, but I'm sure you have someone else in mind."
"Not really." Beat. "I don't think about that much." Sure. "Plus, we're busy. On edge. Not exactly the best time to be thinking about a romantic entanglement." Erin stabs some foliage, and eats it.
"You did it right. Locked it all up before we shipped out." Shrug. "I suppose, next time, I should get over myself, throw on a bikini, and hit the beach." Erin's face twists into a mild expression of repugnance at that idea. "But I don't see the point. You knew your wife before you reconvened here."
"Second time marriage for us both." Beckham sort of leaves it at that. "Everyone has a chance to decide what they want to do." he comments. "You can decide if you want to live in your world or with the rest of us. Doesn't require a bikini. A one-piece works just as well. As does shorts and a t-shirt. Be comfortable in your own skin, Erin." Her name, not her rank. Perhaps just a bit of worry for her. "As I said after the last time, I'm not a matchmaker, and not going to try to make it work. You can find someone, or not. I'm locked up and very happy with being so."
He lifts his blue eyed gaze to the woman to consider her one good eye, the one uncovered. "The question is - would throwing on a bikini help you, as you said, 'get over yourself'?"
"Maybe." Shrug. "What would I know?"
Erin stabs some more vegetables. What did they ever do to her? And then, they are eaten. Consumed. Bitten through and crushed. A horrible end. "Are you comfortable in your own skin, Sergeant?" She gestures at the Medic with her fork. "If you are, that's good. Some of us aren't. So, we -- " She makes a vague shading gesture with her free hand. " -- cover ourselves. Hope that people don't see in."
"Wish I could describe how it felt to just be -- be /here/." Beat. "Like someone is pulling gently on my skin. Gently, but there."
"Once upon a time, I wasn't even comfortable with my name, much less my skin. The Marines gave me a new skin to learn and I've come to enjoy it. Tamlin gave me a new name to grow used to." Beckham shrugs his shoulder nebulously as he pops the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. "Not because she loves me, but because we work well together. Not that I'm planning on inviting her on a mission any time soon. But.. this isn't about me - this is about figuring out who Erin Hayes is."
"That's good. But as for me -- " Erin's eyebrows rise and fall, as does her fork. Repeatedly. Killing and maiming more poor, innocent plant-things, only to ingest them and thus turn them into fuel. " -- I don't know. I knew who I was before. Now, it's different."
She explains after she chews and swallows. "I grew up on this -- " Beat. " -- it was a camp, but it was more like an installation. Not a house, but an installation. There was little privacy. And it was located on a glacier, far away from any town or city or whatever." Another beat. "Every two weeks, a shipment of supplies would come in. We'd keep up with the news, but, as for ourselves, we remained apart for -- well, for most of the year."
"Every summer, for a few weeks, we'd head to Heim. That was always fun. But then, it was always back to the camp, where we'd spend the rest of the year. Just us: my mother, my father, and I." She eats some more salad. "So, I knew who I was. Until all that changed."
"I grew up in the lap of luxury on Caprica, Corporal.." that strange detachment returns as Beckham watches her eat and settles back. "Everything in my life was provided for me and carefully arranged. Even meeting Tamlin was an arrangement between our families." he explains. "I had horses, a yacht, anything and everything that I wanted."
"Except the truth. My whole life was built on a lie and fraud of my parents. I found myself alone, lost, and confused. Everything I was was gone. That was a decade ago. It's not as bad as a Cylon attack. But I know what it means to lose everything. But I also know what it means to rebuild. And if a spoiled rich kid from Caprica can do it.."
He rises, collecting his tray to go dump it, looking back to her for a moment.
"So can a cold hard ass beauty from Aquaria." And with that, he's heading off.