13. Night
"Ah, 'Is majesty approaches." The sniper drawled sarcastically. It was dark out but he didn't want to return to his room for fear of the inconsiderate sex noises returning. He'd retreated to a hall to the east of his room, and was leaning against a doorframe boredly. Now, he saw the spy storming down the hall carrying a load of freshly laundered suits, and figured he could amuse himself this way.
" Shut up, I know sat it was you who let ze pyros in my room."
" Careful sweethaht, you'll burn a hole in me glarin' loik tha'." He had no clue what the spy was talking about honestly, but riling the perky-assed frenchmen was something he could never resist. He would do this adorable little snort thing and storm off like the queen of sheba. Sniper liked a guy who was just a bit too dramatic.
" Creten." The spy spat. His ski mask did squat to disguise those razor sharp cheekbones. There was silence, and nothing but the smell of expensive fabric softeners radiating from the laundry.
" Why do you always torment me?" The spy finally broke the silence. " It is like you get some sick pleasure from my anger."
" If I troid to get your attention any otha' way, would you even give me a second glance?"
Conflict rose on what the sniper could see of the spy's face, until he finally admitted
"No."
" Well, there you go. Plus. loik I said earlier, you're cute when you're angry." Wink a little, grin a little, ah there was that familiar soul scorching glare.
" I hate you."
" You've made it clear. Oi'm surprised you even stopped to ask me that questian."
" Well, I- you," A string of angry cuss words in french. Dramatic, well proportioned, son of a bitch. The sniper waited for the enraged mutterings to die.
" SERE IS A MURDERER ABOUT!" Was finally spat out. Seeming taken aback by his own outburst, the spy quietly tagged on at the end. " Tomorrow you may not have been around sat I may ask."
Oh, that was it. End of the road, dying and suspense type of deal usually makes people impulsive. Unprofessional, but it explained a lot. Now that he considered it, that one kiss in hall could be the only one the sniper ever stole. The spy could die tomorrow and the last vision he'd have of those devilish cheekbones would be filth sprinkling on top of them as the team shoveled dirt into his grave.
'Maybe you need to go on an impulse for once.' He thought angrily. 'Act now or you may never be able to act on this again.'
" We're awl gonna die in the end." He whispered, moving closer so that the bundle of suits pressed into his chest. A few pounds of laundry was all that separated the pair.
" Sat is ze idiotic speech of a man afraid to die."
" True. Oi nevah said Oi wasn't scared." He said slowly, methodically. His heart pounded in his throat, and he reached for the spy's waist. " Aren't you scared to die?"
The suits were on the floor in half a second, the spy had dropped them, seized the sniper by the head and was kissing him violently. Their mouths collided like stones in an avalanche, tongues dancing like wildfire, and sparks virtually flew through the air. He smelled the fabric softener scent coating the spy; he was intensely warm and he wasn't sure if the heartbeat pounding against his skin was his own or the spy's. The sniper's hands fumbled over the spy's jacket, pulling at the lapels so it slid off the slim shoulders and down to the spy's elbows.
He continued, doing his best to battle the silk tie as the spy's lips tore away from his and went to his neck. The rough ski mask scratched at his skin but his lips found the sweet spot where the sniper's neck fused to his collarbone and worked over it with expert skill. A moan of pleasure tore from the sniper's lips.
" Shut up." The spy teased. He pulled away, flung his jacket to the ground and wrenched his tie the rest of the way off.
"Wait Oi," The sniper was cut off by another heart stopping kiss.
" I said shut up." Now the spy's mouth began toying with his ear, working it's expert way across his face. It felt like they were pressing themselves together with the intention to fuse permanently.
" Oi think we should probably get out of the hall." He managed, as he struggled to undo the buttons on the spy's shirt. The spy's arms were twisting around his, pushing off his vest and forcing their way up his shirt.
"What is sat door next to you?" Their mouths collided again, tongues twisting like serpents. Spy extracted a hand from under the sniper's shirt, and forced the door open.
The room looked little bigger than a closet, and one that hadn't been used in at least fifty years. Cobwebs coated everything, and there seemed to be no source of light inside.
" Perfect." The spy breathed, shoving the sniper inside so that he fell onto his back. The entire room smelled of dust.
" I hope you're not scared of the dark" Sniper chuckled as the spy sealed the door, and shadow enveloped them. The only answer was the spy's body bending onto his, and the warmth of the two of them writhing in the darkness.
…
Medic's log,
Dr. Saanvi Ghosh
Day three after explosion, very early morning.
Today is just going to be fantastic; yes that is sarcasm. We've optioned to keep twenty four hour guard over the teleporter, taking it in shifts except neither myself, nor my colleague, nor the male engineer trust Lucy alone with it in her state of…. to put it plainly uselessness and so we've slotted her to go last on day five by which hopefully we will be finished. We had to do quite a bit of senseless yammering to convince her that the decision was not because she was useless, but we managed so hooray for us.
I pulled the one a.m. to six a.m. shift today, it is five thirty and I am ready to shoot someone. I am cranky to say the least when I do not get enough sleep and I am worried I may not be able to function properly when I am needed to assist with regular work on the teleporter. I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a metatarsal bone and phalange at this point.
As for the teleporter we've finished all inside repairs, the explosion's damage fully negated. My colleague was last reviewing his logs from the few days before we arrived so when he arises we should be able to work the teleporter's power to our whims. You could say we might as well have grabbed a new one instead of repairing the old, but you never know if a specific element of this teleporter is what allowed it to transport us here. It was just a matter of caution.
May I say, my colleague has a strange affection for birds. He keeps several doves around the medibay, most free range and tells them all apart by name. I can't tell one from the other but when one approaches him he will always say something like,
" Guten Tag, Herr Mendel"
" Ihre Federn sind schön sind, Eratosthenes."
" Leeuwenhoek, Ist, dass mehr Blut an ihre Schnabel?"
So he knows one from the other. I don't understand the German, and if I was not a pet owner myself I would think he was insane. Admittedly, I once scrutinized a thesis by reading it aloud to my goldfish. It's mostly common knowledge so I don't care about whatever slimeball who reads this without my permission knowing.
My colleague seems particularly fond of a bird called Archimedes. It sits on his shoulder for long periods of time, investigating his work. It's almost cute the way the pair of them are.
Good lord, here I am scrutinizing the relationship of a man and his birds. My apologies I am just so terribly bored, and tired, and the birds are on my mind as they are cheeping or chirping or whatever at me like crazy right now. I think they want me to feed them but… god their eyes are just fields of black; it's so creepy. Birds eyes are just so soulless, I can't see why anyone prefers them over fish.
I really need to get home. No one will have fed Armstrong, Aldrin or Collins this entire trip.