Aw, crap. Either she got hit by a Hive or… someone spiked her drink last night. Of course, she could have simply had one too many, but that’s impossible. She never has one too many. However… she still has a splitting headache, yucky feeling in her mouth, queasy feeling in her stomach… basically, it’s a hell of a hangover.
She knows she should open her eyes and try to find an aspirin or something similar or at least a cup of coffee but opening her eyes would also mean doubling the headache - although it seems very unlikely to her that they still can be doubled. A groan escapes her mouth. “Morning, Lieutenant.” What the…?
Before she knows it, she has turned around, sat up and opened her eyes. Immediately she regrets it, for several reasons. First and foremost, the splitting headache has temporarily increased to blinding. When that ceases a little, she blinks and looks into the room, hoping the voice she just heard was a hallucination induced by residual alcohol. But no, the universe doesn’t do her the favor. It was Major Lorne. Who leans against his desk with his hands in his pockets and looks at her trying very hard not to let the gloating edge show through too much. “Coffee?”
Instead of an immediate answer, she puts her forehead on the backrest of the couch she’d been lying on and groans again. Which is when she realizes that these… are not her quarters. But if these aren’t her quarters… and if Major Lorne just offered her coffee… Holy. Fucking. Crap. “You take sugar? Cream?” What the hell is so funny about all of this?
But yeah… come to think of it… coffee would be nice indeed. Still not looking up and mumbling something incoherent, she simply stretches out her hand - “Ah, black then.” - and promptly there’s a cup shoved into it. Slowly she raises her head as not to cause another surge of headaches and takes a sip.
Okay, maybe not such a good idea, considering the nausea accompanying the headaches… but at least the hotness and the caffeine help to chase away some of the cobwebs the alcohol left behind. Alright, so… yesterday evening, Captain Hayley’s birthday, generous amount of alcohol, a drinking contest between zoomies and jarheads Marines winning… and then nothing. Not good because that still doesn’t explain to her how she ended up in foreign… Major Lorne’s quarters. Well… better rip off the band-aid now. “Sir… permission to ask you a question?”
She doesn’t dare looking at him because in a way the amusement that had been showing through before had been much scarier than any mean looks. “Of course. Shoot.” That’s not fair, she thinks. She’s suffering here and he obviously sees it as entertainment.
“Beg your pardon but… how did I end up here?” No immediate answer and she has this feeling that he’s doing this just because he can.
Then, “Well… after your glorious victory against the USAF drinking team I just had the feeling it might be better if we gave the champion a rest and since you weren’t really yourself and my quarters were closer than yours… I’m sure you can do the math, even in your slightly incapacitated condition.” Do the math? Do the math?
She gives up not looking at him and… he really seems to enjoy knowing more than her. Basically… she has every faith in him that he wouldn’t take advantage of her - and why the hell should he? - but she doesn’t have enough faith in herself to know she wouldn’t at least try something highly inappropriate under the influence of way too much alcohol. Better ask now. If she was stupid enough to try anything in public it’s all over Atlantis already anyway. “Uh… did we… I mean, did I… uh…”
He puts his hand over his mouth, probably to smother a grin. Thankfully, he does take a little pity on her and says, “No, not in the least.” She feels relief surging through her and makes a mental note to never again drink alcohol in the presence of Major Lorne or any other man she feels remotely attracted to. “However…” Oh God. That can’t be good. Whatever will come now simply can’t be good, the way his grin just changed into a feral one. “Dr. Parrish did receive quite a lot of attention from you in the last hour or so… until I saved you from doing something you might probably regret the morning after.”
Please someone tell her he’s just doing this to torture her a little and teach her a lesson about knowing your limits with everything intoxicating. Please. “You’re… you’re joking, right, sir?” Please tell me you are.
“Hate to say it, but… no, I’m not. Don’t worry, I think Dr. Parrish’s tolerance level for alcohol is much lower than yours. I really don’t think he’ll remember much.” Right. Okay. Unfortunately… she can hear the one thing he didn’t say: That he will remember it. This really is all kinds of… disastrous. And embarrassing not to forget. Alright… first things first now.
“Sir… you’ll have my eternal gratefulness if you keep this to yourself. I’d really owe you one for this. Just…” Did that sound like begging? From the look of him… maybe a bit.
He comes sauntering over from the desk and half sits down on the backrest, his arms crossed. “Keep my trap shut. Alright. And you know what? I’ll even try my best to keep it from spreading. If…” If? If? Is this going to be blackmail? “If you let the USAF win next time. I guess they took losing against a couple of gi… Marines pretty hard. So just for the sake of the peace between the Air Force and the USMC contingents… cut them some slack next time.” Okay… who is that and what did he do with Major Lorne?
“Sir… just to make sure that I’m not hallucinating or something… you’re asking me to let the USAF win next time we have a drinking contest?” He nods, a little resigned now.
“Yeah, well… since we can’t ban drinking contests anyway… I had this idea that the score should be kept even at least. So?” She puts her elbow up on the backrest, resting her still pounding head on her hand. Well… obviously, the offers are on the table. Looking up at him proves to be a difficulty, but she’s a Marine. Difficulties are nothing to them.
“Did I get that right? The price for maybe no one remembering my alcohol induced interest for Dr. Parrish is that I betray Corps honor next time a flyboy - or flygirl - challenges me over a drink or two? I really think you’d get off rather cheap, sir.” That… wipes the grin off his face. Well… a little.
“Okay, if you put it like that… it might sound like I’m trying to fleece you.” She just nods, getting the feeling that she’s slowly starting to get the upper hand here. “But… I’m not. Honestly. I’m just trying to keep the peace in this city.” She nods again, benevolently. She can feel that she’s just this close to have him begging. “So… let me rephrase it. You would do me a great favor if you… well…”
“Cheated?” He clears his throat.
“That’s… such an ugly word. Look, it’s not really betraying Corps honor. It’s…” If he says please, she thinks, maybe I’ll give in to him. Which is kind of strange, considering they are in his quarters - and she’s not so sure anymore if that is just a coincidence or if he’d seized his chance yesterday to try and blackmail her into this - and it’s his coffee she drinks. “Uh… it’s sacrificing a little victory for keeping a great peace?”
Aw, isn't that cute? His nearly desperate face is so adorable that her headache seems to lessen every time she looks at it. Should she let him dangle a little more? Nah… better not overdo it. “I really admire how dedicated you are to this city, sir… I mean, kidnapping a Marine and then trying to bribe her with coffee and blackmail her with a little drunken flirting… that really takes balls.” Mh. That’s not what’s meant with “not overdo it”. But yeah, she should refrain from pointing out that what people might be thinking about this is about ten times worse than what they might be thinking about her and Parrish now.
He sighs defeated. “Alright… what would it take that you and the other Marines will not drink every USAF soldier under the table here every time there is official or unofficial consummation of alcohol involved?” Now you’re talking.
All of a sudden… the hangover doesn’t seem so bad anymore. Granted, she’ll stay away from any alcohol - and Dr. Parrish, come to think of it - for at least a few weeks now, but that little discussion proved to be quite a good countermeasure. Or is it the coffee? “First of all… that thing with Parrish: Not a word, to anyone.” He nods, even a little more resigned. “Then: You flyboys stop cheating at volleyball. Don’t even think about denying it. We all know you do. And next time I’m asking for permission to set off experimental charges on the mainland? You say yes.” He wants to say something, but she’s not finished yet. “Also: Keep your flyboys from crashing our girls only poker nights. I mean it. They’ve become a nuisance and I know that it’s only zoomies because the Marines aren’t stupid enough to try and mess with me and the other girls.” He sighs again.
“Is that everything, Lieutenant?” Well… no. She has at least three other things she could bring up now, but… oh, she probably shouldn’t waste all her gunpowder just yet. She nods.
“Yep. I’ll even keep quiet on whose idea it was originally that we Marines don’t do too much damage to your precious USAF egos, sir. Well… if you get me another cup of that coffee, that is.” He’s about to say something - no doubt something about bossy female Marines - but a carefully placed suffering look makes him get up and grant her that wish. Surprisingly enough, when he comes back and hands her the coffee he rounds the couch and sits down, grinning.
“You know… since you’re already here and everything… tell me more about these “experimental charges” you want to blow up the mainland with?” Is he trying to bribe her again? Coffee and explosives talk? Oh well, carpe diem, isn't it?
~*~
TBC in
Drinkin' Buddy