CH7: On the Rocks (Jack + Naomi)
Jun 17, 2019 14:23:03 GMT -6
Post by Captain Ameijin! on Jun 17, 2019 14:23:03 GMT -6
“Rum and coke, on the rocks with just a splash of lime.”
The words were familiar, but their speaker was a less-than-familiar face inside the Menaulion’s bar. Jonathan Cortaine wielded attention like a double-edged sword; at times he demanded it in full, but at others he seemed to do away with it entirely. The way he slipped into the bar was more like the latter.
Naomi turned to her left to make sure she hadn’t misheard, but the scarred face instantly confirmed the man’s identity. A face that was easily recognizable, and tonight, it was a face that looked especially tired. She nodded to him, knowingly.
“Good evening, Lieutenant Commander, sir.”
“No need for formalities, Naomi.” He smiled pleasantly, though the growing bags under his eyes did not suddenly vanish. “Jack will do just fine.”
“Fine by me.” She slightly raised her own glass to him as his own was filled; the ice inside clinked softly. “You been getting enough sleep these days? You look twenty years closer to retirement, there.”
“To be perfectly honest, it feels more like forty.” He tapped the edge of his glass to hers with a soft murmur of ‘cheers’, taking a long gulp of his drink. “Would you believe that I found a grey hair in the mirror this morning?”
“Yeah…” She reminisced to the day before, when she looked at her own increasingly greying hair; she could not decide if it was from the age or the stress. “...Yeah, I’d believe you.”
“Seems like it was just yesterday that I was a bright-eyed recruit fresh out of boot camp, filled to the cheeks with unbridled patriotism.” He chuckled and took another sip of his drink. “Only thing I care about these days is getting us home and in one piece. Age does strange things to you, doesn’t it?”
“It helps putting things in perspective, that’s for sure. Helps to get a sense of the big picture, for better or worse.” She wrapped her hand around her glass, her ring clinking against the cold surface. “...and, in situations like these, the picture can get pretty overwhelming, I guess.”
Jack’s eyes wandered towards her ring. His hand found itself fumbling over the one hanging from his neck, hidden by the collared shirt that he scandalously unfastened the top button of. A deep breath escaped his lungs. He reached for the glass of rum and coke and drank until the ice cubes tumbled onto his upper lip.
“Just one more, if you would.” He nodded towards the bartender, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Doubt it helps any, but you’re… well, you’re not the only one who feels that way.”
“I’m sure.”
She pointed at his fumbling hand. “Say… if it’s not too much to ask, but, how are you handling the current situation, regarding… this?”
“A bit like this,” Jack said as he reached for his second glass of rum and coke and took several long, slow gulps. “...in moderation.”
She chuckled softly; the humor was a bit dry for her taste, but oh so relatable. “Same here. It… doesn’t quite help, and now I’m one bottle of scotch down, but it does make it duller, somewhat. Sally has been worried sick about me lately, I can’t even imagine what she must be thinking now.”
“Sally is… your partner, correct?” Jack stared down into the half-empty glass, gently rolling the ice cubes around. “This must be a great deal harder on them than it is on us.”
She nodded to his question. “Unfortunately so. You’d think the people on the frontlines have it harder than the ones back home, but it’s just a different kind of stress in the end.” She stretched her arms on the counter. “Well, best we can do right now is make sure to live through it to make it back up to them, I guess!”
Jack smiled softly as his finger trailed along the sweat that formed outside his glass.
“Alan would like you very much, I think.” He raised his drink to Naomi. “To coming back home.”
She smiled and tapped her glass against Jack’s. “To family.”
The words were familiar, but their speaker was a less-than-familiar face inside the Menaulion’s bar. Jonathan Cortaine wielded attention like a double-edged sword; at times he demanded it in full, but at others he seemed to do away with it entirely. The way he slipped into the bar was more like the latter.
Naomi turned to her left to make sure she hadn’t misheard, but the scarred face instantly confirmed the man’s identity. A face that was easily recognizable, and tonight, it was a face that looked especially tired. She nodded to him, knowingly.
“Good evening, Lieutenant Commander, sir.”
“No need for formalities, Naomi.” He smiled pleasantly, though the growing bags under his eyes did not suddenly vanish. “Jack will do just fine.”
“Fine by me.” She slightly raised her own glass to him as his own was filled; the ice inside clinked softly. “You been getting enough sleep these days? You look twenty years closer to retirement, there.”
“To be perfectly honest, it feels more like forty.” He tapped the edge of his glass to hers with a soft murmur of ‘cheers’, taking a long gulp of his drink. “Would you believe that I found a grey hair in the mirror this morning?”
“Yeah…” She reminisced to the day before, when she looked at her own increasingly greying hair; she could not decide if it was from the age or the stress. “...Yeah, I’d believe you.”
“Seems like it was just yesterday that I was a bright-eyed recruit fresh out of boot camp, filled to the cheeks with unbridled patriotism.” He chuckled and took another sip of his drink. “Only thing I care about these days is getting us home and in one piece. Age does strange things to you, doesn’t it?”
“It helps putting things in perspective, that’s for sure. Helps to get a sense of the big picture, for better or worse.” She wrapped her hand around her glass, her ring clinking against the cold surface. “...and, in situations like these, the picture can get pretty overwhelming, I guess.”
Jack’s eyes wandered towards her ring. His hand found itself fumbling over the one hanging from his neck, hidden by the collared shirt that he scandalously unfastened the top button of. A deep breath escaped his lungs. He reached for the glass of rum and coke and drank until the ice cubes tumbled onto his upper lip.
“Just one more, if you would.” He nodded towards the bartender, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Doubt it helps any, but you’re… well, you’re not the only one who feels that way.”
“I’m sure.”
She pointed at his fumbling hand. “Say… if it’s not too much to ask, but, how are you handling the current situation, regarding… this?”
“A bit like this,” Jack said as he reached for his second glass of rum and coke and took several long, slow gulps. “...in moderation.”
She chuckled softly; the humor was a bit dry for her taste, but oh so relatable. “Same here. It… doesn’t quite help, and now I’m one bottle of scotch down, but it does make it duller, somewhat. Sally has been worried sick about me lately, I can’t even imagine what she must be thinking now.”
“Sally is… your partner, correct?” Jack stared down into the half-empty glass, gently rolling the ice cubes around. “This must be a great deal harder on them than it is on us.”
She nodded to his question. “Unfortunately so. You’d think the people on the frontlines have it harder than the ones back home, but it’s just a different kind of stress in the end.” She stretched her arms on the counter. “Well, best we can do right now is make sure to live through it to make it back up to them, I guess!”
Jack smiled softly as his finger trailed along the sweat that formed outside his glass.
“Alan would like you very much, I think.” He raised his drink to Naomi. “To coming back home.”
She smiled and tapped her glass against Jack’s. “To family.”