Don't be a stick in the mud, you know that ball is in my permanent possession.
[ There's a bit of a drawl to her tone, though, and a smirk to her lips. She knows exactly what she's doing; it's not lack of social skills at play here. And true to Shaw's thinking, the omission on discussing exclusivity was because Root didn't care in the slightest. She's not easily threatened that way. Sex is just an expression of physicality, and ultimately physical forms are ephemeral, easily betrayed, scarcely tangible. Nothing that truly matters happens in the physical realm; it's just for fun.
Case in point, she can tell there's something here, and maybe it's not happening in deference to her, which just means she's in the best possible position to stir up trouble. And give Shaw something she wants at she same time -- win/win. ]
I'll take that as a no. [ She slings one leg over the other, casual. ] Seems like a missed opportunity to me.
Carver considers that for a moment and then just finishes his drink with a philosophical shrug. It's not his business what they do on their off hours, not really, not unless it impacts unit cohesion. And even if it did, he's got no standing to call them on it. He looked the other way sometimes when some of the other Reapers paired off in the quieter moments. Pope wouldn't have liked it, but they were lonely, and the world was gone.
Shit happens. You survive how you can. ]
Don't make a habit of hooking up with my teammates, [ he points out softly. He outranked most of the Reapers; it wouldn't have been fair back home. ]
[Shaw sprawls out a leg to nudge Root's knee with her own.]
He's not interested.
[Which means she's just going to keep having to oogle at his muscles when he wears t-shirts and salivate over his handling of weaponry all by her lonesome. That's fine!]
[ Even with just this much, she's accomplished the goal of putting it on the table, making sure her existence and devotion to Shaw isn't a barrier to the two of them having sex. But Root will find an inch and push it to a full mile. ]
Please, Sameen. That's not what he said. [ There's a scolding tone, like she expects better from Shaw. This is why she holds the social skills ball in her permanent possession, honestly. ]
He's looking for reassurance that we won't make it weird. Don't worry, Brandon. [ She switches to meeting Carver's eyes on a dime, gaze utterly sincere and almost doting. ] We don't do this normally, either, but Shaw thinks you're really, really hot.
[ She's lucky Root cares about her enough to arrange her hookups. This isn't a service she offers to anyone else. ]
Carver, [ he corrects, rubbing his thumb along the rim of his glass. It's not said with malice, just a statement of fact. Only Leah ever calls him Brandon these days, a line he doesn't care to cross no matter how much he likes Shaw and Root. They make sense to him in a way the rest of this place often doesn't. And that, Carver knows, is a precious thing.
Still.
He tilts his head a little, watching both of them curiously. Wondering if this is Root playing a game just for the Hell of it, tossing out an offer to spin them both up just so she can laugh at the resulting chaos. If there is, indeed, resulting chaos.
They're both beautiful, Carver acknowledges. He has eyes. But it's rare that he allows himself to look at other people that way, for any reason. Why risk it, when so often strangers simply become targets?
These two haven't yet. They are, he realizes suddenly, the closest thing he has to friends right now.
He hums a little. Flicking his nail against the glass. ]
I am very pretty, [ he agrees solemnly. All these things are true. ]
[Shaw, who has up to this point been shooting Root the most exasperated series of looks, lolls her head to the side to eye Carver. Up and down. Slowly. As you do.]
You're too rugged to be pretty. I think you're hot. The right terminology is important.
[And then she goes back to glaring at Root. Just glaring, it should be noted; there are zero attempts made to actually do anything to stop this line of conversation.]
[ She was using his first name to tweak him, but Root won't keep doing it senselessly, just to be annoying. She'll save it for when being annoying serves her ends, like it did a moment ago. First she had to rile them up; now she has to get them talking. ]
And Shaw is, obviously, smoking, [ Root answers for him, though maybe a little impatiently. ] We're all attractive, we all know how to keep our lanes clear. We should at least discuss it. To stave off boredom if nothing else.
[ She's really very easily bored, and there's way too much downtime in Etraya.
To Carver, deliberately challenging: ] You wouldn't make things weird, either -- right?
[ Carver tilts his head back, watching them both. He almost starts to make a joke, something crude, something infantry, but he holds back. It doesn't have to mean anything, he supposes. He had his share of mostly anonymous hookups back in the day. Most of them were drunken. Some of them he regrets, but not all.
Perhaps most importantly, Shaw and Root aren't Reapers. There's a hierarchy still, but they're above him in it and don't seem inclined to abuse that fact. It could be simple. Maybe.
He doesn't say that it's been years since he's been with anyone at all. That he doesn't like touching people these days. ]
I wouldn't make it weird, [ he agrees, because that much is true. He's not a home wrecker. Whatever they've got going on, they can handle that on their end. ]
[Shaw makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat and slouches further in her chair, her eyes rolling up to study the ceiling. He won't make it weird, and as annoying as Root is being about the idea, it's not a bad idea. It's not necessarily something she would have proposed herself, but she can't deny that it's interesting. No, more than interesting - intriguing.
She licks her lips, then drops her gaze back down to the two of them.]
[ Root loves being annoying about good ideas. She realizes it makes her somewhat insufferable, but hey, that's part of the fun. As for whether it will mean something -- she's truthfully open to it either way. Root is an anarchist at heart, and she doesn't particularly care about labels. Carver can be a good time, and a team mate, and important-but-not-as-important as Shaw. Many things can be true at once. ]
Great, glad we established that, [ she says, still a bit impatient. She often feels like she's waiting for everyone else to catch up with her, and now's no different.
To Carver: ] To answer your earlier implied question, I don't mind if Shaw sleeps with whoever she wants, but sometimes her taste is... [ a delicate pause ] unfortunate. You, I like.
[ He tilts his head toward Shaw, assessing, then to Root. Wondering if this is all a grand joke they're having at his expense and whether he wants to be a good sport about it. There's nothing he gains from snapping at them, Carver supposes. He likes their company, both of them. They make sense and that's a precious thing in this world, easily lost, easily broken. ]
So. [ His tone is bland. He lifts his eyebrows in Root's direction. ] You wanna watch?
[ This is a joke if they laugh. Perhaps something more if they don't. He's deciding as they go. ]
[Shaw had been about to retort that her taste is great, actually, thank you very much; she has slept with some impeccable specimens. But then Carver asks his question, and squabbling with Root takes a backseat to sorting through the mental images that this suggestion has drummed up. She's not laughing. She is definitely not laughing. Give her a second.]
Hush, sweetie, we already know where you stand in this conversation.
[ She loves Shaw for many reasons, but really, there's just not a lot of people who would put up with Root's vaguely condescending and dismissive way of flirting. And she trusts Shaw loves her in whatever capacity she does, because frankly, who else would go to all this trouble to make the sexual scenario of her dreams? Root is such a considerate girlfriend. She knows what Shaw probably wants out of this and she's the one doing the negotiation.
Root smirks at Carver, stretching her legs out and leaning back leisurely in her chair. She sips her whiskey. ]
I won't even heckle, [ she says by way of answer, tone earnest. ] Might give some pointers, though, if you're open to it. I know how to read my girl.
[ Root, as she often does, seems perfectly content to arrange things. She’s got a tendency sometimes to say things seemingly to gauge the reactions or possibly just for the fun of it, a habit Carver shares and thus finds amusing when it’s aimed elsewhere. It makes things slightly more complicated in moments like this.
Even so, this doesn’t feel like a joke. Just a conversation they’re having.
He hums a little, considering them both. ]
It’s been a while, for me.
[ He’s not in any particular mood to explain why. But it ought to be said before this turns into something. ]
[Shaw punctuates this with a point in Root's direction, an exasperated look plastering itself across her face.]
No... sex commentary allowed, from anyone. Actually, you know what, never mind; I'm pulling out of this half-baked idea.
[This is absolutely not a serious threat. If it were, she'd leave the room. But instead, she stays put, and nothing about her body language or facial expression indicates anything but the most mild level of annoyance. Can you put up with their push-and-pull banter, Carver? Because that might actually be a prerequesite.]
[ That's practically a dare. Root pouts at her exaggeratedly, though of course on Root it's quite a believable expression until you know better. ]
I said I wouldn't heckle. You sure you're not interested? We can test that.
[ She places her glass of whiskey down, pushes her chair back, and climbs to her feet. She walks around the table not toward Shaw but toward Carver, expression open and mildly challenging, with a wicked edge like she's inviting him to pull a prank with her. ]
May I?
[ She's looking for a kiss, but is respectful enough to stop a foot away, not touching without permission. Root leans her hip against the table, facing him sideways. ]
[ This is the part, Carver supposes, where he ought to tap out if he’s going to tap out. They’re teasing the way he’d tease his brothers and sisters back when they were all playing infantry games, a familiar back and forth. If he’s going to flinch, best to do it now. They might tease but he doubts they’d push if he said no.
He watches Root move closer. Bright eyed and focused, as she always is. He takes in her expression, the jut of her hip, the way Shaw sasses back at her but doesn’t shut it down. Thinks, why not?
Really, why not?
He takes another drink, then sets his glass down with a definitive click and motions her closer with a jerk of his chin. ]
[Shaw has never considered herself to be interested in voyeurism. She's been in situations where someone made out with another person in front of her, with the aim of either titallating her or making her jealous or both; in every single one of those situations, it only ever bored her, annoyed her, or made her feel nothing at all.
This is different. Maybe it's because of who's involved, or maybe it's down to the intentions (Root clearly isn't trying to make her jealous, but Shaw also gets the feeling that turning her on isn't the only goal, either). She sits up straighter and scoots forward an inch or two on her chair, leaning in just a little. Continue, please.]
[ She's not trying to make her jealous in the traditional sense. More like she's relying on Shaw's sense of FOMO to kick in and get annoyed that she's being left out of the fun.
Carver's such a good sport, too, which gives him points in Root's book. She hadn't been totally sure how he'd take this -- the conversation itself or this direct request -- but so far she likes how easy it is, that he promised not to make it a big deal and then doesn't.
Permission granted, Root doesn't hesitate. She deliberately places one knee on the seat of the chair between Carver's legs, her hands settle on his shoulders, and she leans down and in. Root isn't deliberately commanding, but her unhesitating decisiveness almost demands everyone else come along with her or be swept away in her wake. You're either along for the ride or she's leaving you behind.
Their lips meet, hers supple from colored lip balm, and Root doesn't rush. She arches over him in what should be an awkward pose but instead comes across as coaxing, patient, a little teasing, fingers curling over his shoulders. How much does he want? She's good at reading physical signals. ]
[ This is uncharted territory for Carver, the sort of game he never played even before the world ended and certainly never this close to sober. In those days he’d either been with Riley or still in love with Riley after that door slammed shut and made him the kind of lonely that hung out in dive bars for a fight or somebody to yank him into the back alley; either way, the only kind of collision he could stand. He fears, quietly, that he’s got no talent for this sort of thing anymore. That he’ll only ever be a wound to other people and the least courtesy he can do to the ones in his orbit is not to infect them with his bullshit.
The thought is there. So are others, chief among them that he likes Root’s smile and the way she walks with her feet firmly planted in front of her, how every step is certain and she means to hold her ground against all challengers. And then her hands are on his shoulders, small but strong, and she kisses him almost gently. Not the way he’d expected, or maybe been braced for. Not with teeth.
Funny, that.
He’s still for a moment, considering that, and then his hands settle on her hips, squeezing faintly. It doesn’t feel awkward, not like he’d thought it would. He kisses her back because he can, because it feels good, and so little does these days. Well aware that Shaw’s watching and this both is and isn’t a game, so they might as well give it a good showing. ]
[Shaw wants to kiss him with teeth. Even more than that, she wants him to kiss her with teeth; she wants him to leave bruises on her skin with his mouth and his fingertips. She wants to run her hands over his chest, the way she sometimes imagines doing when she spars with him or watches him train with his whip - and the way that, she can't help but notice, Root is not doing. Yeah, sure, his shoulders are nice too, but not giving his chest even a little bit of attention is a damn tragedy. What a wasted opportunity.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat - impatience, discontent, and okay, yes, a tinge of interest too - and paces closer, approaching from the side and circling them like a panther. Once she's gone about three-quarters of the way around, facing Root's back and Carver's front, she worms her way in a little more, bumping Carver's knee with hers and digging an elbow into Root's side. Move it. Let her in.]
[ Carver is also much sweeter than she's expecting, in a way that makes Root a little tender. Awww. Tough macho guy who could put her on the ground in a split second, and he likes her being sweet with him? That's definitely appealing in a way men usually aren't.
She feels Shaw ungracefully elbowing her and breaks off the kiss with an exhalation of laughter. ]
Don't look now, [ she murmurs, purposefully ignoring Shaw as she maintains eye contact with Carver and smirks. ] Sameen thinks I'm not kissing you right.
[ That's easy enough to tell in the impatience, and Root's assumption that Shaw is not out there looking for fuck buddies to have tender merciful sex with. ]
She wants to mark you up, [ Root whispers like it's a secret. ]
[ He can feel Shaw's movement like a physical weight settling over the room, even though she's quiet with how she places her feet. Deliberate about it. A good soldier, he thinks, even with Root pressing close and distracting him. He grins as Root breaks and Shaw comes in, her knee pressed against his. In a different moment it'd feel crowding, he thinks, uneasy, but it doesn't here.
Funny, that.
He squeezes Root's hips again, one eyebrow cocked. ] Not where people can see, [ is all he says. He doesn't mind carrying bruises. It's a reminder of the real.
Then he reaches out a hand, risking it, and touches Shaw's elbow. Tugging her closer. ]
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[ There's a bit of a drawl to her tone, though, and a smirk to her lips. She knows exactly what she's doing; it's not lack of social skills at play here. And true to Shaw's thinking, the omission on discussing exclusivity was because Root didn't care in the slightest. She's not easily threatened that way. Sex is just an expression of physicality, and ultimately physical forms are ephemeral, easily betrayed, scarcely tangible. Nothing that truly matters happens in the physical realm; it's just for fun.
Case in point, she can tell there's something here, and maybe it's not happening in deference to her, which just means she's in the best possible position to stir up trouble. And give Shaw something she wants at she same time -- win/win. ]
I'll take that as a no. [ She slings one leg over the other, casual. ] Seems like a missed opportunity to me.
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Carver considers that for a moment and then just finishes his drink with a philosophical shrug. It's not his business what they do on their off hours, not really, not unless it impacts unit cohesion. And even if it did, he's got no standing to call them on it. He looked the other way sometimes when some of the other Reapers paired off in the quieter moments. Pope wouldn't have liked it, but they were lonely, and the world was gone.
Shit happens. You survive how you can. ]
Don't make a habit of hooking up with my teammates, [ he points out softly. He outranked most of the Reapers; it wouldn't have been fair back home. ]
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[Shaw sprawls out a leg to nudge Root's knee with her own.]
He's not interested.
[Which means she's just going to keep having to oogle at his muscles when he wears t-shirts and salivate over his handling of weaponry all by her lonesome. That's fine!]
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Please, Sameen. That's not what he said. [ There's a scolding tone, like she expects better from Shaw. This is why she holds the social skills ball in her permanent possession, honestly. ]
He's looking for reassurance that we won't make it weird. Don't worry, Brandon. [ She switches to meeting Carver's eyes on a dime, gaze utterly sincere and almost doting. ] We don't do this normally, either, but Shaw thinks you're really, really hot.
[ She's lucky Root cares about her enough to arrange her hookups. This isn't a service she offers to anyone else. ]
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Still.
He tilts his head a little, watching both of them curiously. Wondering if this is Root playing a game just for the Hell of it, tossing out an offer to spin them both up just so she can laugh at the resulting chaos. If there is, indeed, resulting chaos.
They're both beautiful, Carver acknowledges. He has eyes. But it's rare that he allows himself to look at other people that way, for any reason. Why risk it, when so often strangers simply become targets?
These two haven't yet. They are, he realizes suddenly, the closest thing he has to friends right now.
He hums a little. Flicking his nail against the glass. ]
I am very pretty, [ he agrees solemnly. All these things are true. ]
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You're too rugged to be pretty. I think you're hot. The right terminology is important.
[And then she goes back to glaring at Root. Just glaring, it should be noted; there are zero attempts made to actually do anything to stop this line of conversation.]
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And Shaw is, obviously, smoking, [ Root answers for him, though maybe a little impatiently. ] We're all attractive, we all know how to keep our lanes clear. We should at least discuss it. To stave off boredom if nothing else.
[ She's really very easily bored, and there's way too much downtime in Etraya.
To Carver, deliberately challenging: ] You wouldn't make things weird, either -- right?
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Perhaps most importantly, Shaw and Root aren't Reapers. There's a hierarchy still, but they're above him in it and don't seem inclined to abuse that fact. It could be simple. Maybe.
He doesn't say that it's been years since he's been with anyone at all. That he doesn't like touching people these days. ]
I wouldn't make it weird, [ he agrees, because that much is true. He's not a home wrecker. Whatever they've got going on, they can handle that on their end. ]
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She licks her lips, then drops her gaze back down to the two of them.]
I wouldn't make it weird, either.
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Great, glad we established that, [ she says, still a bit impatient. She often feels like she's waiting for everyone else to catch up with her, and now's no different.
To Carver: ] To answer your earlier implied question, I don't mind if Shaw sleeps with whoever she wants, but sometimes her taste is... [ a delicate pause ] unfortunate. You, I like.
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[ He tilts his head toward Shaw, assessing, then to Root. Wondering if this is all a grand joke they're having at his expense and whether he wants to be a good sport about it. There's nothing he gains from snapping at them, Carver supposes. He likes their company, both of them. They make sense and that's a precious thing in this world, easily lost, easily broken. ]
So. [ His tone is bland. He lifts his eyebrows in Root's direction. ] You wanna watch?
[ This is a joke if they laugh. Perhaps something more if they don't. He's deciding as they go. ]
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-- Wouldn't be opposed.
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[ She loves Shaw for many reasons, but really, there's just not a lot of people who would put up with Root's vaguely condescending and dismissive way of flirting. And she trusts Shaw loves her in whatever capacity she does, because frankly, who else would go to all this trouble to make the sexual scenario of her dreams? Root is such a considerate girlfriend. She knows what Shaw probably wants out of this and she's the one doing the negotiation.
Root smirks at Carver, stretching her legs out and leaning back leisurely in her chair. She sips her whiskey. ]
I won't even heckle, [ she says by way of answer, tone earnest. ] Might give some pointers, though, if you're open to it. I know how to read my girl.
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Even so, this doesn’t feel like a joke. Just a conversation they’re having.
He hums a little, considering them both. ]
It’s been a while, for me.
[ He’s not in any particular mood to explain why. But it ought to be said before this turns into something. ]
Direct all you want.
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[Shaw punctuates this with a point in Root's direction, an exasperated look plastering itself across her face.]
No... sex commentary allowed, from anyone. Actually, you know what, never mind; I'm pulling out of this half-baked idea.
[This is absolutely not a serious threat. If it were, she'd leave the room. But instead, she stays put, and nothing about her body language or facial expression indicates anything but the most mild level of annoyance. Can you put up with their push-and-pull banter, Carver? Because that might actually be a prerequesite.]
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I said I wouldn't heckle. You sure you're not interested? We can test that.
[ She places her glass of whiskey down, pushes her chair back, and climbs to her feet. She walks around the table not toward Shaw but toward Carver, expression open and mildly challenging, with a wicked edge like she's inviting him to pull a prank with her. ]
May I?
[ She's looking for a kiss, but is respectful enough to stop a foot away, not touching without permission. Root leans her hip against the table, facing him sideways. ]
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He watches Root move closer. Bright eyed and focused, as she always is. He takes in her expression, the jut of her hip, the way Shaw sasses back at her but doesn’t shut it down. Thinks, why not?
Really, why not?
He takes another drink, then sets his glass down with a definitive click and motions her closer with a jerk of his chin. ]
Might as well, [ he drawls. ]
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This is different. Maybe it's because of who's involved, or maybe it's down to the intentions (Root clearly isn't trying to make her jealous, but Shaw also gets the feeling that turning her on isn't the only goal, either). She sits up straighter and scoots forward an inch or two on her chair, leaning in just a little. Continue, please.]
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Carver's such a good sport, too, which gives him points in Root's book. She hadn't been totally sure how he'd take this -- the conversation itself or this direct request -- but so far she likes how easy it is, that he promised not to make it a big deal and then doesn't.
Permission granted, Root doesn't hesitate. She deliberately places one knee on the seat of the chair between Carver's legs, her hands settle on his shoulders, and she leans down and in. Root isn't deliberately commanding, but her unhesitating decisiveness almost demands everyone else come along with her or be swept away in her wake. You're either along for the ride or she's leaving you behind.
Their lips meet, hers supple from colored lip balm, and Root doesn't rush. She arches over him in what should be an awkward pose but instead comes across as coaxing, patient, a little teasing, fingers curling over his shoulders. How much does he want? She's good at reading physical signals. ]
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The thought is there. So are others, chief among them that he likes Root’s smile and the way she walks with her feet firmly planted in front of her, how every step is certain and she means to hold her ground against all challengers. And then her hands are on his shoulders, small but strong, and she kisses him almost gently. Not the way he’d expected, or maybe been braced for. Not with teeth.
Funny, that.
He’s still for a moment, considering that, and then his hands settle on her hips, squeezing faintly. It doesn’t feel awkward, not like he’d thought it would. He kisses her back because he can, because it feels good, and so little does these days. Well aware that Shaw’s watching and this both is and isn’t a game, so they might as well give it a good showing. ]
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She makes a small sound in the back of her throat - impatience, discontent, and okay, yes, a tinge of interest too - and paces closer, approaching from the side and circling them like a panther. Once she's gone about three-quarters of the way around, facing Root's back and Carver's front, she worms her way in a little more, bumping Carver's knee with hers and digging an elbow into Root's side. Move it. Let her in.]
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She feels Shaw ungracefully elbowing her and breaks off the kiss with an exhalation of laughter. ]
Don't look now, [ she murmurs, purposefully ignoring Shaw as she maintains eye contact with Carver and smirks. ] Sameen thinks I'm not kissing you right.
[ That's easy enough to tell in the impatience, and Root's assumption that Shaw is not out there looking for fuck buddies to have tender merciful sex with. ]
She wants to mark you up, [ Root whispers like it's a secret. ]
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Funny, that.
He squeezes Root's hips again, one eyebrow cocked. ] Not where people can see, [ is all he says. He doesn't mind carrying bruises. It's a reminder of the real.
Then he reaches out a hand, risking it, and touches Shaw's elbow. Tugging her closer. ]