The sensation of her eyes moving against their lids was akin to sandpaper and caused the woman to cringe, quickly pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to quell the migraine she had felt coming on for an hour or so now. Just a little longer, she kept telling herself as she looked at the itinerary in her hands. For living on the edge of existence somehow she still had to plan out and take care of every little detail. She knew if it weren't for her this rust bucket would be at the bottom of the ocean by now while the men played thrash ball on the deck obliviously. Maybe she didn't mean that, the chip on her shoulder had her soured towards the opposite gender right now but it was really the fault of just one. Even then it wasn't really his fault, she conceded. He was a busy man, these were hard times, so went the mantra she'd said a hundred times. It was obvious now she wasn't ever going to get her mind to focus on papers in front of her so Anya dropped them on the small desk where she sat. She sank further down into her chair and let her eyes close, temporarily easing her headache. A soft knocking on the door frame of the office startled and excited her. Anya turned quickly to see Samantha Byrne sticking her head just a bit. It wasn't who she was expecting…
"You look disappointed." Sam called it, spot on. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Anya waved a gloved hand. "And I'm just tired."
It was an obscenely late hour and as the majority of Sovereign's crew slept the hum of all the ship's noises seemed to pulse with life. Sam must have been sleeping too, there was no other reason she would have been walking around in sport-shorts and a thermal top. She didn't even have shoes and Anya noted the tattoos on the other Gear's feet with a bit of interest. The two women shared a small room in the quarters here on the ship, it was only reasonable, but all that time together was starting to form something of a friendship. A first either had had with their own gender in some time.
"Are you ever going to come to bed?" Asked Sam. She'd stepped just inside but leaned back against the doorway with her arms folded behind the small of her back.
"Yeah, I guess.. I was just…" Anya trailed off and gestured towards the cluttered desk in front of her.
"Waiting up." Her squad member chose to finish her sentence. "What, you didn't think I forgot did you?"
"Please don't Sam, it's stupid." She declined, caught again by the huntress Byrne.
"It is a little, but … when was the last time anyone said 'happy birthday' to you?" Sam had that slow smile washing over her face, cheeks dimpled by the end as she asked.
"I can't even remember." Anya answered, coming to peace with all of this. There was no other choice. "How did you even know?"
"How many times have we accidentally put on each others tags in the morning since we've been on this ship? I bet you know mine too. Don't you Stroud?"
There was just something about the woman that made it impossible to bullshit her when she was set on a mission. Anya stopped biting her lip to say, "Fair enough."
Samantha was happy with the victory but could see something else weighing on the Lieutenant's mind. Of course she was going to pry, she already knew what was up. "Ooh Anya … I'm sure he just forgot."
Saying it out loud didn't make it sound any better, worse in fact. The smile Sam had was fading into a slanted frown. Good thing she had come with back up on this mission though. Anya had turned back in her chair and started to shuffle the errant papers into neat manilla folders for organization and sanity's sake. She needed the mind numbing office work. Sam tossed what looked like a small hand made notebook in front of her, causing a few sheets to fly away.
"Please don't be mad," Sam cringed just saying it. "I thought it would be fun to do."
Her grey eyes focusing on the item in front of her Anya realized just what this was. For starters it was a present which was just uncalled for, but other than that it was half a dozen or so sheets of pressed paper, six by eight inches maybe held together with several metal brads on one border. The cover page was almost completely blank save for a series of numbers written by a Sam's gifted hand in calligraphy. It was her call number in the COG.
"You bitch." Stroud sighed. Her sinuses seemed to burn and her eyes began to well up. She put a hand over her mouth to cover how her lips trembled but used the other to turn the first page. There was a pressed flower first inside. She laughed, "Is that from Sidney?"
"Yeah, I saved that the day he died," Sidney was the fruit plant Anya and her had started to grow in their room who had met a suspicious and untimely death when Sam came home one night to find it's soil smelling like motor oil. The flower was so pretty though, and the first the women had seen in months stuck at sea.
Turning now in her chair to face Sam who took a seat across from her Anya went on to the next page. Immediately she laughed. It was a picture of the toilet in the small private bathroom they got to share which was one of the perks of having a bunk mate. Underneath it was labeled, "The Only Toilet On Sovereign Whose Lid Got Put Down," a small joke between the two.
"Sam," Anya almost cooed, turning through the book faster and almost unable to believe this. There was a sketch Samantha had done of Anya once her friend insisted on keeping, a small air locked bag of coffee beans, a small vial of pure lilac oil and on the last page a long hand written note from Samantha
She cleared her throat when Anya got to that. At first she joked, "You'll probably want to read that later. It's just this flowery letter where I confess my undying love to you and all that."
Anya closed the small book in her lap and just kept shaking her head. "I'm going to kill you Sam, this was too much….Thank you."
"You're welcome." Sam smirked and started to yawn. Her arms stretched out above her head and she squealed a bit. Still tired, she'd had to come track Anya down to give her her present this night when she hadn't shown up for bed at a reasonable hour. "I'm gonna go lay back down though Anya. All of this emotional stuff is tiring. Happy Birthday."
"I'll come with you. I'm dead on my feet."
"You're not going to put away your work?" Sam asked just because it was uncharacteristic of Anya to not do so.
"No. Screw it, it's my birthday."