2237-06-09 - Upping the Stakes

Aubrey and Alain confirm they're ok post-barbeque, and they raise the stakes on their double ace bet.

Date: 2237-06-09

Location: Ready Room -- Vanguard

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1107

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There's a mission on the slate in just a little bit. Aubrey is in the ready room sitting in one of the chairs, carefully plaiting her hair into braids, one on either side of her head. It makes putting your helmet on WAY easier. She has her flight suit on, but unzipped and rolled down to the waist, because the frakking things are much too warm outside of a Viper in the cold of space.

Alain, too, is outfitted in his flight suit, rolled neatly and deliberately to his waist. He strides in, obviously heading for the whiteboard, but seeing aubrey, his path quickly diverts towards her. Stepping into the row in front of her, he settles backwards on his chosen, facing her and resting arms across the back of the chair. "You've got that look in your eyes, Banshee."

Aubrey flashes Alain a small smile. "Hey Jigger, you ready for this?" she asks. She doesn't look like she's overly sure. At his words, she chews on her lower lip for a moment. "It's my home. I'm half terrified of what we're going to see out there." No mention of the barbeque at least!

"Always," Alain replies, easily, his confidence in stark contrast to her hesitation. He always has this unnatural calm and ease right before a battle -- perhaps due to the fact that he spends time in the chapel in prayer before missions when he can. He watches her for a silent moment, voice low, "I'm not going to lie. This is probably going to suck. But I've got your six like always, Banshee."

Aubrey gives him a genuine smile and she reaches to give his forearm a squeeze. "Thanks, Jigger. And I'm sorry for the stupidity at the barbeque. I was drunk, so was Abigail, and she was on one of her 'dare you to' streaks. Don't feel too bad, you were the SECOND guy to shoot me down that night." She chuckles a little. "Ingvar is on my shitlist for what he said too."

Alain returns the smile, his other hand patting hers where it rests on his forearm in reassurance. "So I hear. Don't worry about it. Everyone was trying to blow off steam." He frowns, all of a sudden. "Wait. The second after Spider shoots you down, he gets transferred out. Should I be worried?"

That gets a laugh from Aubrey. "I'm pretty sure that had nothing to do with me. Did you know he's married?" she asks with a shocked expression. "Really though, I was just feeling a little lonely and didn't want that big old hotel bed to go to waste." She goes back to braiding her hair.

Alain's brows go upwards in surprise, shaking his head. "I... did not." His lips twist a little wryly in unvoiced sympathy. There's a slight pause, before he says casually, "Well, I hope you didn't waste it, then."

"Neither did I when I asked him to dance," Aubrey replies, shaking her head a little. She snorts. "I did waste it. I wasn't going down in flames three times in one night," she laughs.

There's a flickered smile from Jigger. "Well, you know. Maybe, like me, he had a strict aversion to dancing of any way shape or form. Maybe he's called Webb because he has webbed feet." His eyes go ceilingwards as he throws out random speculations.

"Either way, if you're worried about me being stung, don't be. I'm not that fragile. Besides, I plan on beating you to double ace very soon," Aubrey announces. She tilts her head to look at him sincerely. "We're good, right?" she asks.

The flickered smile becomes something brighter, as Jigger holds out his clenched fist for a bump. "We're good, Banshee." A beat. "Well, until I beat you to double-ace, anyway. Then all bets are off, you know?" He's not so good at play-acting bravado, and it shows as he grins.

Aubrey returns the fist bump and laughs. "We may need to up the stakes after tonight. Especially since you got that bottle of Ambrosia from the Colonel!"

Jigger's brow goes upwards. "I mean, you did beat me at gunnery, so I'm not really sure how..." he pauses, then his head tilts. "What've you got in mind?"

"Oh, maybe doing a week's worth of the winner's downtime duties?" Aubrey quips with a grin. Not having to clean the head, or do laundry, or deliver packages would be high stakes indeed.

Jigger visibly winces at the thought of doing two times the downtime duty for a week. "Ouch." After a moment though, he sticks out his hand in an offer to seal the deal. "All right. You're on."

Aubrey shakes the hand with an ever-widening grin. "You are going to have soooo many regrets over this!" she declares. She finishes her second braid and tosses both behind her shoulders. "So, let's go kill some toasters and make them pay for what they've done to Picon."

"You know you oughn't speak to yourself in public. I hear tell we have a new shrink on board, he might get wind of it," Jigger replies with a knowing grin. When she flicks her braid around, he gives a sharp nod. "You got it," as he twists around while other pilots start filing in for the pre-mission briefing.


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