trans_9 | House Call

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House Call

Luis was getting the feeling his tank of snails was becoming something of a joke around the Science Department, but he didn't care much. They were too fascinating to just give up his research on. They came in a rainbow of colors and glowed in the dark, and also had the ability to weave beautiful and intricate webs of brightly-colored spider-like silk. They were like... spidersnails. No way would he pass up on that opportunity.

He walked through the crew quarters on his way back from Hydroponics, a small holding tank of the creatures under his arm to start a second population. Walking by the doors, he quizzed himself on who lived in each one, partially just to test his memory and partially to see if he could remember which one was his.

As he passed Trudy's quarters, though, he remembered all the hubbub of the dogfights a week or so ago, and recalled hearing that she'd gotten a bit banged up. His mouth narrowed, and he was at her door a moment later.

"Knock knock," he said, adjusting his glasses. "There's a handsome doctor here to see you, General."

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"No, I don't," Luis replied, sounding just as puzzled about it as she did. "Though with how big it was, I really should have a big drain plug shoved in my chest."

He idly covered her hand with his own, cracking a strange little smirk of his own. "Jeez... it really is a small world. Now, Saddler... let's just say I just tried to quit without going through due process. Stupid old cabrón... I didn't like working for him anyway."

Trudy shook her head. "That shit in the medbay must be something else," she said. "To bring someone back from something like that. Scatter gun?" That's the only thing she can think of that could punch football-sized holes in someone. That or a cannonball, and Luis wasn't that far back from her time.

Oh, she just had to ask, didn't she?

Luis suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well... not really. Saddler was..." Special.

"It... was an extremely large insectoid appendage. Or possibly a tentacle, I'm not sure. It was kind of impaling me in the back at the time, I didn't get a good look."

She made a face. "Sorry I asked," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Pobrecito. That's an awful way to go. He didn't even have the decency to impale you in the front?"

Okay, so that was kind of a terrible joke and she probably shouldn't have said it. "Sorry."

Fortunately for her, Luis had taken his death in stride and was fully aware of all the various joking implications.

"No, no, don't worry about it. That's the kind of guy he was. Snuck up on me and BAM. Next thing I know I'm a fountain of blood on the floor. I didn't feel much, at least." And if you asked him, he kind of had it coming.

"Next thing I know, I'm lying on the floor of the pod caverns, minus that career-ending chest injury."

"What an asshole. If I see him, remind me to shoot him." And she meant that. Anyone who attacked someone from behind, especially someone as ~~hopelessly nerdy~~ defenseless as Luis usually was, deserved to get shot full of holes.

She really had to convince him to start carrying a firearm. "At least with Quaritch I was shooting him first. Racist son of a bitch. I hope Jake killed his ass."

"Hey, no need to worry about him. Leon exploded him into a burning pile of bloody chunks for me," Luis said, in the tone of voice some people use to talk about new ice cream stores opening down the street. "Though if by some cosmic joke he's ever alive again, I'm going to be the one to send him back to hell this time."

Because with Saddler came Las Plagas. And Luis was never going to let them get their little grasping tendrils on anything else. Not as long as he was still alive. Again.

It was nice that he'd gotten confirmation of his murderer's death. Poor Trudy would probably have to wait to find out. "I hope so too," he said. "Anybody who could kill someone as beautiful as you deserves to die."

"So I'll shoot him in an extremity, you can still kill him," Trudy said. "You have more than a right to." It was cute how giddy he got about someone being exploded into chunks. Then again, if Jake showed up on the ship and told her he'd blown Quaritch's shuttle up she'd probably throw him a party. A big one.

"Oh, he deserved to die for a few dozen other reasons, not the least of which was systematic genocide, but thanks." She grinned. "Besides, if he hadn't who says I would have turned up here? I never would have had the pleasure of being hit on by a handsome Spaniard in nerd glasses."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, bonita, you're far too nice to me. I'm sure there are dozens of other handsome Spaniards in nerd glasses who would love to hit on you, ones far better than little old me."

"Yes but nobody could be a handsome Spaniard in nerd glasses like you," Trudy said, poking his chest. "Who else knows this much shit about me? And hasn't run screaming."

There was something dangerously close to a warm fuzzy feeling beginning in her chest. This needed to turn into sex or goodbye soon or things could get dangerous.

"Lady, I am the last person who should be running, screaming from anybody else's past," Luis teased her, reaching around to grab the back of her leg teasingly. "I'm a bona fide mad scientist. And I brought a tank of snails into your room. That's not a little bit weird to you?"

"Okay the snails are a little weird," she agreed. He couldn't pull her off balance with something as simple as that but she sat in his lap anyway because why not? It was her room and none of her pilots were here to see her. "But if I remember correctly you've saved the ship from two mutant death viruses so far, so that mad scientist thing is going pretty well for you as far as I'm concerned."

She shrugged. "Besides I figured you weren't coming back the third time I woke you up by smacking you in the nose, but I guess you're just a glutton for punishment." Nightmares. They sucked.

Once she was seated, his arm curled around the curve of her waist. Only a little handsy.

"Hey, if you don't mind all the times I wake up screaming, it would be rude not to return the favor. And besides, it'll take a lot more than a few punches in the face to scare me off," he teased her. "Like talking about names for babies, for instance."

The word 'babies' provoked a shudder that went all the way down her spine and had nothing to do with the wandering hands. "No thank you. Some women are meant for children and I am just not one of those women. I'm not even good with kids of other species, much less kids of my own species." Kang's kids in the Sensoriums had taught her that much. "Every time someone hands me a baby I feel like I'm going to drop it. And they cry and smell. I only have one thing in this world I want to love that much and it's my X-wing."

Really. She talked to it while she worked on it too, sometimes in a baby voice when she was sure nobody else was around.

"Oh, I like kids just fine. I just like to be able to give them back to their parents before long," Luis replied, suppressing a sudden shudder of his own.

"Besides, can you imagine being the poor little bastard who has to point at me and say 'yes, that's mi papa, the bleary-eyed sleazeball talking to the petri dish'?"

Trudy laughed. He had a point. "Even all of that aside, I can't get taken out of commission for how long it takes to have a kid, much less raise one. I have enough of them in my life already with the damn teenagers in Command."

Too many of her pilots were young. Far too many. Allenby came to mind as one of the youngest, and she still felt guilty putting her in a cockpit in wartime. Asuka just gave her endless trouble, and that was part of her immaturity.

"Yes. Teenagers. Reason enough not to have children," Luis shuddered. "And anyway... I'm far more of a 'fun uncle' than I am a father. I'm all cookies and cool exploding stuff and no naptime and discipline."

"You left out glowing spider-snails," Trudy said, tilting her head toward the tank. "Kids love stuff that lights up. You could probably park a kid in front of that and they'd be fascinated for a while."

She sighed a little rolling her head on her shoulders. She wanted to ask him about that funky clock but she heard he kicked it over to Magical and besides, she didn't want to talk shop. "What did you pick up on shore leave?" she asked.

Luis had wanted absolutely nothing to do with the funky clock. It violated everything he believed in.

"Oh, you know, the usual... whiskey, cigarettes, new clothes... particle accelerator, pH chemicals, six new microscope lenses."

Trudy clicked her tongue at him. "You'd think that going without for so long would've gotten you to quit smoking," she said. She wasn't harping on him really, but... well, she had kind of a vested interest in his health.

"I didn't pick up much. The clothes and the new sidearm were the biggest, then I picked up a bottle of something special and gave the rest of my savings to Engineering."

"I know, I know. It's a filthy habit. I really don't partake often enough to call myself a smoker, but sometimes, when your eyes are burning and starting to twitch and you've been watching the same amoeba for the sixth straight week... a little smoke can change your whole outlook on life."

He curled his arm around her lower back affectionately. "How generous of you."

She leaned her head against his chest, content to just curl up with him for a little while. "Hey, whatever money they could use to sink into parts means that it's more likely our ships will get repaired faster, and maybe even upgraded." Trudy had a responsibility to her pilots and their ground crew. Kicking her wages over was the least she could do. "And hell, after booze and clothes and a new gun, what do I even have to spend my money on?"

"I suppose you're right," he said. "I guess I've wasted so much of my time in the Science Department I don't think they really need my money." Besides, as the department head he oversaw everything they bought anyway. They were anything but poorly supplied.

He seemed pleased to have her curled up with him, leaning his head in close to hers. "It's been far too long since I, er, visited you..."

"That's your own fault," Trudy said, teasing. "You've been forgetting that sleep is best had in a bed. What happened to 'surprise Trudy, have an unconscious scientist in your bed to take advantage of?'"

She slipped her fingers under the collar of his shirt, resting them against his skin.

"Mmmmm..." Like a cat getting scratched behind the ears. "It's not my fault. I've been busy. And those snails work like a nightlight. It's all very soothing."

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fieldpromoted - 2011-05-17 04:47 (UTC) - Expand

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