[TF] Sam

[writes_with_digital_ink]

after this:

Last date Gaila had been on had been back in San Francisco, with Jim Kirk. A lifetime and a whole alternate reality and over six months ago (not to mention Jim was a Grade A Jerk). This date is more of a whimsy than that one, so she doesn't exactly spend a lot of time preparing. Given the current ship-madness, she keeps the leggings and boots but swaps the jacket for one of her tunics (gold and patterned), makes sure her underwear matches, and puts in some nice earrings. And grabs the nerf gun because, well, why not.

So it is that around dinner-time, she buzzes the door to Room 762

Comments

[immutablysam]

Sam doesn't do 'dressed up'. Especially when butchering pigs is involved as a pre-date preparation activity. She has bothered, at least, to wash up and put on clean clothes.

These are distinctly Native America-inspired, with a fringed jacket in place of the frontier vest, and buckskins, with the boots exchanged for more comfortable moccasins. She's still wearing the hat, though.

As the buzz, Bubsy glides to the door, practically vibrating with excitement at the chance to greet the guest by the time Sam gets to the door.

"Well, hello, Beautiful."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

That gets a smile.

"Hi yourself. Told you you looked dashing. Can I come in?"

[immutablysam]

Sam steps aside, and eventually gets the ornithopter to heel, after Bubsy has had a chance to say hello.

"Come on in, make yourself comfortable."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks, after greeting Bubsy (who is a beautiful orinthopter, yes he is) and perching on an armchair. Idleness when there are things to do, even when a guest, is a hard thing for her to do.

(Now, idleness once tasks are done, she's great at.)

[immutablysam]

"Any and all cooking you want to see to, go ahead. I'm still getting the hang of these replicators, but we have pork to go with whatever we come up with." Because Sam is /great/ at necessity cooking. She's fended for herself at almost all times, all around the world... but for actual date food, not so handy.

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"They do take a bit of getting used to," she admits. "The Federation use them way more than where I came from."

Then she slants Sam an amused look.

"So the hunting went well?"

[immutablysam]

"Oh yeah, the hunt was just a matter of time, and getting a little dirty. Would have gone better with my knives, but, well... rules."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Gaila pauses while locating the replica tor.

"How do you hunt with knives? I mean, I understand that you do things once you've already brought the animal down, but...do you throw them?"

[immutablysam]

"Sometimes. And sometimes I just sneak up. That's more of a challenge, keeps it fun."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

That gets a laugh.

"Wrestling pigs in the corridor of a spaceship? Well, I suppose it sounds way more entertaining than wrestling code, and I do that for fun."

[immutablysam]

"I... don't have even a clue what that means. Code?"

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Right. Sorry. Mixing up metaphors and technology." She leans against a chair and taps it with her long green fingers.

"Do you know the computers and machinery here? I'm a programmer and engineer specializing in dealing with that. The computer reads instructions, which is in a language we call a code. Need me to backtrack on anything?"

[immutablysam]

"I think I get the basic idea, anyway... not so much metaphors... more... we didn't even have the idea of computers. All I've figured out so far is the voice commands, and that they work."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Yeah, I do the stuff behind the scenes that makes the voice commands work, basically. You curious about learning more, or just...okay with getting it to work?"

[immutablysam]

Sam grins and shakes her head. "I never did figure out how to even make most of the Coltranes' stuff work. Airships and all. Harriet taught me to fix Bubsy, but that's about it. I think I'd take forever to figure out any of this computer stuff, long as it keeps working. There is one thing I wanted to do, though."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"And what's that?"

[immutablysam]

Sam steps up to grab Gaila, at least a bit careful of the clothing, to kiss her, hard.

"No magical whatsit involved. Just wanted you to know it may have helped, but I didn't exactly object."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

"Well," she says, sliding a hand up Sam's chest to the neck, "I just wanted to make sure. Gotta be careful."

So, she's going to kiss Sam back now.

Very. Thoroughly.

[immutablysam]

Sam is quite pleased with this result, and returns the kisses. Dinner, computer discussion, and the rest can all wait.

"I suppose. But now you know. In case of any more magic whatsits."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Gaila drops her mouth to Sam's jaw, then neck.

"Mmm," she hums, her free hand to starting to wander. "Meant what I said, too. You're interesting."

[immutablysam]

"Mmm, if this is the result, I'll take interesting." She tilts her head back a bit, allowing free access to her jawline and neck, and letting that hand wander as it will, while Sam's own strong hands settle on Gaila's hips.

[writes_with_digital_ink]

Gaila laughs softly, and then almost pointedly traces the edge of Sam's binding.

"How far do you want to go?" she asks, kissing Sam's collarbone. "My people kinda treat this as having another form of conversation, which apparently isn't normal for like, most people in the Federation or on this ship? So. What do you want, Sam?"

[immutablysam]

"There's no objection here to you spending the night. Maybe a lot of nights if it keeps going this well. But let's do dinner. Chat a bit, get our strength up, since the meat is mostly ready to go. If you're still up for another form of conversation after dinner, we'll have a lot to talk about."

[writes_with_digital_ink]

This time, her kiss to Sam's jaw is butterfly light, gentle.

"Dinner," she says, and moves off to acquire the rest of what she had planned from the replicator before she got so nicely distracted.

[immutablysam]

There was definitely temptation to just forget dinner, and take Gaila straight to bed. But there'd been plans for this dinner, and even now, it occurs that they should talk a little more first, at least.

Sam checks on the pork, and starts cutting it up, hands with two knives moving almost faster than the eye can follow. The pork itself is nothing fancy, but the preparation would be something to watch.