Making-up-Mech-Pilots
@Making-up-Mech-Pilots

Mech Pilot who is feeling so much better now


caffeinatedOtter
@caffeinatedOtter

"Cap," Beeper says.

"Beeper," the Cap says. He looks less like he'd like to shoot someone than a week ago, maybe, so that's good sign.

"I understand if you can't talk to me about any findings so far," she says. "Just — you should probably know that my ex-wife approached Fletch yesterday, and implied that she believes she was used without her knowledge as a vector for a Byzant4 malware attack on the company. Said she's quitting Berwick."

"You believe her?" the Cap says, and Beeper takes a good long look at a faded mech-a-month calendar on the wall behind him.

"If I could do good thinking about my ex-wife, Cap, might not have got here," she says cautiously. "I think mainly I believe it doesn't matter to the practical outcome? But for what it's worth, she's not — never was generally a liar to my face."

He grunts, eyes locked like mil-wave targeting beams.

"Also." She rubs her sweating hands on the legs of her jumpsuit. "Uh. Sir. With respect to unit regs. I think I should inform you that I, uh, I believe Fletch might be amenable to — fraternisation. With me. And at the earliest juncture I establish that for sure, I intend to fraternise the hell out of xer. So if that's a problem...."

She shifts her weight from foot to foot. He slowly taps the end of his pen on his desk.

"Pretty sure the fact you're not already would lose a lot of our guys money in a betting pool," he says.

Not a whole lot that's safe to say to something like that. "Sir," Beeper says.

He softens, just a little. "Off the record," he says. "I need everyone's head in the game, expecially right now. You good, Beeper?"

She takes a breath and thinks, really thinks about it.

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I think. Not perfect, but — good. Headed the right way."

He taps his pen again. "Not sure which of you I should give the shovel talk to," he says.

"Oh, Fletch has got Carol for that," Beeper says, and hesitates. "No, wait. Which of us do you think Carol—"

"Get out of here, Beeper," he says tolerantly. "Just don't make it my problem."

"Wilco, Cap," she says, salutes, and gets herself out of his office to where she can breathe.

"You good?" Fletch says, sitting in the chairs outside, waiting xer own turn, legs stretched out for miles in front of her. Beeper takes a long lungful, in and out, to buy herself a few seconds just to look at xer and xer kind eyes and casual grace.

"I'm good," she says, and means it.


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in reply to @caffeinatedOtter's post:

just to attach it to any random fic (this is a good one) to say that in a couple days of sitting on trains or in a hotel that i've consumed like two thirds of your microfic lol, and it's very wonderful <3

(i could think up 50 different tear-stained reasons why the cheating in sex pollen is totally, 100% interspecies/crosscultural misunderstanding lmao)