Leonid
Never Again
03:49, November 27, 2065
Sleep was sporadic, at best. Every time Neil managed to doze, he was carried right back to reality by frequent, often painful jabs. Several times he considered encamping the floor, letting Jane keep the bed… but the thought tended to go unfinished, as he wasn't particularly motivated.
If he were awake or was just woken up, he couldn't tell. He was suddenly aware was what he realized, whether that was for good or bad….
Bad, he quickly decided. Beside him, Jane was choking, and it took very little reasoning to figure out why. He roused her best he could, or at least well enough to sit her up. Between frightful pauses were short, clipped breaths as the woman fought the hangover. Neil noticed that, due to a lack of foresight, the trashbin was out of reach… probably somewhere near the desk on the other side of the room. He dismissed it as inevitable, mentally equating the mindset of better luck next time.
"Don't do that; it's disgusting," he coaxed, earning only a faint whine in response. She swallowed again and he grimaced, "I know how you're feelin', okay? You'll feel better if you… um…." Unable to find a proper euphemism for the word 'vomit,' Neil nearly rejoiced when he didn't have to, as Jane had already spit up the chemical remains of the prior night's binge over the side of the bed.
It took several seconds for Jane to finally open her eyes, and she decided she'd rather go back to sleep. It didn't last long; moments after she'd settled down again, she decided she'd rather leave.
As Neil watched her go, it slowly dawned on him that sleep was not to be.
---
04:13, November 27, 2065
Over the railing was a whole city, and she couldn't quite fathom what that meant. The balustrade was cold against her bare belly, and she pitied anyone on the lower levels if she were to suddenly feel queasy again. As it was, her head hurt, as did her stomach, and her throat was dry… she didn't think there was enough fluid left in her, but she wasn't going to be compassionate if she felt the need to throw up again
And Neil… she heard him coming before she took any notice. The only way she knew it was him was the way he stopped every few inches while approaching… waiting for acknowledgement; she was glad it was him, because anyone else she might have killed on the spot. She felt guilty that she had let herself get that bad.
"What?" she asked, leaning back from the edge a little. She regretted the movement when the world demonstrated it could be equally unstable.
"I thought," came instantly. The rest was a bit difficult, "You might, um…" so instead he held up the clothes and waited, "here."
She didn't look to him right away, and when she did she brushed it off, "What about them?"
"I thought that you'd…" delicate wording was necessary; or at least speediness, "maybe not want to be seen outside in your underwear?"
She only stared at him, leaning back against the railing and suddenly reminded of how cold the metal was. And another thing; he hadn't considered weathering, he'd considered whether or not she'd be seen…
"I mean, do you really want to risk being booted 'cause you … wear…. 'Cause… you're not wearing regulation… issued underwear?" Neil whimpered, not quite wanting to state the reasons said underthings didn't fit regulation.
No luck, it seemed. Jane simply stared.
"Okay, please; take it as I'm being jealous or that I'm tryin' t' help, but please get dressed."
The last desperate attempt he needed, as she took the clothes did as he asked… albeit slowly, since the world was still reeling at the smallest jolt.
"Um…"
"What?" and it seemed some small jolts were larger than others.
"Did… you want shoes, too?"
"I don't care," he didn't have her shoes, anyway.
"Okay; did you want to go back now…? Or, ma-"
"I want to take a shower," Jane growled, taking a few shaky steps away from the railing. She felt revolting. Down from how Neil looked in the hellish morning way he did at the moment, at least he didn't seem to notice. Worse – he grinned.
"Well, we can situate that; we do live, after all, in an advanced civilization that…"
"Neil, shut up," he did, pouting slightly.
Jane didn't notice. She was too distracted fighting a dizzy spell. She found it kind of fun if she ignored the ground falling at an alarming rate, and the painful rush of blood through her head.
Okay, okay, she thought desperately, no more and I promise this time. Concurrently, the ground stopped about an arm's length away, and her vision cleared of the sudden black haze.
---
05:45, November 27, 2065
Gray had knocked, which added to his decency rating. Neil's tired admission on how he was looking quite bland this morning could no longer be termed accurate. At the moment, he seemed to be a little more on the shocked side.
"What is that?" he asked nervously. Neil lifted his head far enough off the pillow to follow the captain's line of sight and groaned.
"That's a blanket."
"It's… pink."
"Yep," Neil reached for the thing, and it unfolded as he dragged it closer for inspection, "It's pink; drown in lace; with quilted patches; and it's stitched with thes' little flower things."
"Should I ask?" Gray wondered. Neil shrugged, noticing something he hadn't before. He unfolded the blanket, and scrutinized the embroidery.
"'For Jane, Be Good, Love Mom,'" the tech read aloud, "So there you go."
"Ah huh," Gray twitched. Some things were better left alone, "Speaking of, where is she?"
"Who; Jane's mom?"
"Jane," and sometimes anger management came in handy….
"She's been in the shower for," Neil sat up, both to see the time and since Gray seemed to be taking his time visiting, "Almost an hour an a half." It had him a little worried, since it was a little longer than a usual six minutes, but….
"Is she all right?"
"Hasn't been all morning," the younger man chirped pleasantly, "Why do you think we didn't check in?"
"Because you have a record of not checking in for less moral reasons," Gray growled, with no effect.
"So?"
"The Media's little show is on the first at 19:30," he wasn't interested in pushing anymore. It never got him anywhere, "I want Jane in her room, in a skirt, and ready an hour early."
"You know," Neil stopped him as he began to leave, "I could take that very personally."
"And just what are you going to do about it?" Gray snorted returning to his way.
"Just saying is all!" Neil called after him.
"Saying what?" he jumped, having not expected Jane to be… well, right there.
"Um, Gray said he wanted you to become a breeder," and suddenly, he felt compelled to run. The woman had darkened considerably. But he couldn't up and leave it at that, so instead he grinned "He said he wanted you. In a dress, too, apparently. So I told him otherwise."
"Uh, right…" Jane grumbled, carefully sitting down at the desk. She set the wastebasket within easy reach as 'just in case.' She didn't feel compelled to taint Neil's floor two times in the same day.
"Do me a favor?" Neil attempted to change the subject, "Would you please bring this back with you, next time you're going to pick something up; or… whatever?" He held out the offensive blanket, and she took it but glared.
"What's wrong with it?" she demanded, and he was back on the defensive.
"Nothing! It's… very nice," he insisted, both hands up in peace, "It's just that I'm allergic to pink." Jane didn't look convinced.
"Why?"
Neil felt very cornered, but if he had to tell someone, it may as well have been her.
"For the longest time, my mother thought I was a girl," Jane smirked, so he added, "I'm serious. And my dad thought it was hilarious, so he refused to help at all. I swore I'd never put any kid through that."
"What if the kid was a girl?" for a moment, Neil looked confused.
"Maybe… red?" he guessed, " It's close, but not so bad… you all right? You're ah... lookin' kind'a pale again."
"I'm hungry," the woman admitted, "but it doesn't matter."
"Yeah it does…" the technician tried to remember the last time he had seen her eat, "but we can fix it." He stretched for his boots, eventually having to get up anyway, "Lemme go find something."
After he left, Jane doubled over in the chair, vowing over and over again the same desperate base fact,
Never again.
