(Untitled)

[mr_gaeta]

He hasn't been sleeping very well the last few nights. It isn't terrible, all things considered: brief bursts of insomnia there, a short nightmare there. Nothing very far from the ordinary.

The exhaustion does make him more inclined to spend his off-duty hours in his rack, though, following the gentle remarks (advice?) to do something other than

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[faithful_lt]

It's another couple of hours before Hoshi turns up, looking cheerful. He's apparently unaware that there's a smudge of what looks like grease high on his right cheekbone, as though he'd wiped his face with the back of his hand while working on something messy.

One of the other officers is just leaving, and there's a moment where the two of them nearly collide in the doorway. "Hey, watch those big feet of yours," he teases, laughing. "You might trip someone."

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta opens his eyes. As soon as he recognizes the voice, the tiny smile returns.

Seconds after that, the curtain drawn across his rack clatters back at the foot of the bed, and Gaeta, resting on his stomach and still looking rather bleary, peers out.

"Hey," he greets Louis.

[faithful_lt]

Jarrell grins. "Only if they're clumsy -- you worried?" He buffets Hoshi lightly on the shoulder and moves past him out the door.

Hoshi shakes his head and turns back into the room, glancing up at Gaeta with a quick smile.

"Hey, yourself." A split-second beat, and then, as it hits him, "Frak, did we wake you? I'm sorry."

[mr_gaeta]

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes slightly in self-deprecation. "I was just dozing. I overslept a little anyway, I should've been up an hour ago."

Raising himself a few inches, he unfolds one arm from where it'd been tucked under his chin and holds up a small box. Its stock of needles and thread is plainly visible through the clear plastic.

"Are you the one I should be thanking for this?" he asks, the small smile growing a bit.