Chapter Four: Revelations
John entered the commissary just in time for lunch, or at least what passed as lunch for the crew of the Athens. The rations barely qualified as edible, but years of training and eating such slop had forced him to become accustomed to the food. Over time he'd learned to detach himself from physical discomforts as well, which helped him considerably when he felt the urge to retch at mealtimes.
The rations were a bit better today, but not by much; how the UNSC could make chicken stew look unappetizing was something John didn't care to contemplate. Regardless, you need to eat, he reminded himself. Sitting down at an empty table, he began shoveling the meal into his mouth—better to get it over with before he actually did decide to throw up.
A motion in the doorway of the commissary brought John's head up slightly: Lieutenant Hawkes had entered the room and was even now making her way to the lunch lines. He swore he noticed a grim look on her face when she glanced at the rations, but it was masked as quickly as it had appeared. Once her plate had been filled with more of the unappetizing meal, she scanned the room before moving to an empty table in a deserted corner of the room; producing a datapad from her pocket, she began to eat with one hand and peruse the pad, occasionally touching controls to scroll through whatever she was reading.
John found himself watching the lieutenant, noting how a few strands of brown hair were falling forward over one eye and how she'd absentmindedly brush them behind her ear. He saw the look of disgust as she forced another mouthful of food into her mouth and chewed. Her eyes, the green flecks noticeable even form his distance, scanned the pad rapidly, and the expression of concentration on her face captivated him.
Hawkes had chosen to eat alone, but the Chief wondered why; while he and his fellow Spartans hadn't exactly been welcomed among the other Marines, they'd always made sure they were together whenever possible. Hawkes had the advantage here, she was among fellows, so he was puzzled as to why she didn't seek their company. Well, then ask her! The thought surprised him, but he decided to listen to it. His instincts were seldom wrong, and right now they were urging him to get some answers.
Picking up the remains of his meal, John stood up and headed towards her table.
"Mind if I join you, Lieutenant?"
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Jessica looked up from the datapad to see a pair of dark brown eyes, eyes that were regarding her somewhat curiously. She couldn't help the surprised gasp that came out of her throat. I didn't even hear him coming! How did that happen?
"I wasn't aware that Spartans were sociable people," she replied, "but if you don't mind my silence you can sit." Gesturing to an empty chair, she was quite surprised to see him sit down. Glancing back at her pad, she continued to peruse the information relayed by various scout ships. OLYMPUS was still heavily guarded, but there was a blind spot in their patrol patterns that they might be able to exploit, if they were careful. I'll have to show Cortana, see what she thinks.
"What are you working on?" The Chief's gravelly voice broke in through her thoughts.
"One of ONI's scout ships just sent in a report. They found a blind spot in Covenant patrol patterns that might give us an extra edge. I wanted to take a look at the data as soon as I could." Jessica chuckled dryly. "I was also hoping it would distract me enough to be able to eat. Unfortunately, it didn't work."
"The food isn't the best I've eaten," the Chief agreed, a small smirk on his face. "I learned to deal with it during training, though."
"I noticed. There are times when I envy you and your iron constitution." Jessica pushed her still-full plate away, her appetite having been killed once again.
"You should eat more," the gravelly tones prompted, causing Jessica to glance at the Spartan in annoyance.
"If I tried to eat more, I'd wind up in the med bays. I'll need to have a word with ONI—how they expect the crew to function on this slop is beyond me." Probably thinks I'm being selfish, but this is the third mission where I've gotten this kind of garbage along with the rest of the crew. Jessica made a mental note to search the commissary when she got back form the mission to OLYMPUS: if there was better food back there, she wanted to know why none of it was ever given to the crew.
In the meantime, though, I'd better keep working on the mission. We can't afford to screw up on this one. Picking up her plate, she nodded to the Master Chief. "I'll be in my cabin working on mission strategies if you need me. Good day, Master Chief."
"John." The muttered word stopped her, and she turned in mild surprise.
"Come again?"
"My name is John." Why's he telling me this? Especially when he knows I've read his file? Surprisingly, she found herself responding in a similar fashion.
"Jessica."
An awkward silence filled the air, and Jessica made the most of her opportunity to dispose of her dishes and exit the room. True, she went about it in a rude way, but she was so embarrassed she couldn't think straight. I told him my name! What the hell was I thinking? I can't afford to be doing this now! She was thankful that this had been her only slipup…wait…
"Even though I wouldn't mind you holding my hand that much."
The words she'd thought the other day echoed clearly in her mind, and she realized in horror that she'd whispered them aloud. And because of his augmentations, the Chief would have heard her clearly. Jessica sat down heavily on the edge of her bunk and buried her face in her hands. Oh no. What have I done?
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Jessica Hawkes, John mused as he ran the name through his head. It seemed to fit her somehow, and definitely sounded more pleasant than Lieutenant Hawkes. He found himself liking the name, and liking the person that went with it. She was definitely more than the ONI spook she seemed, and part of him wondered how much of it was an act to throw people off. Underneath her fiery, non-conforming exterior was a cool head and a sharp mind. The fact that she was able to rework a plan that didn't fit the situation at hand was testament to her abilities.
What am I doing? I shouldn't be thinking like this! He was admiring someone who worked for ONI, for Ackerson no less! Instead of thinking about the mission, John was busy thinking about Lieutenant Hawkes' effect on him. This was bad news. I have to focus on the mission. He tried to keep from thinking about her emerald-flecked hazel eyes, her river of long brown hair, her slender figure, her unique personality…Ah damn!