||=accidents do happen=|| .open. ||FINISHED||

[jamie]

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Ros walked throughout the halls on the Enterprise, wearing his uniform red shirt, although not the rest of his uniform. He was not wearing the pants, like he usually did, but he was wearing a red and black plaid kilt with slightly shorter basketball shorts underneath. It was shore leave, so he figured that it wouldn't be too bad to wear his comfy clothing. Ros' sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his hands were crossed in front of his stomach lazily. His hands were obvious the hands of a fighter- worn and calloused, with bruises and bandages almost obscuring flesh. The story about his current injuries was the usual one: another redshirt, a guard, had asked Ros to find out why his phaser wasn't firing. Of course, to the question of "have you cleaned it?" the guard didn't say anything...and the phaser blew up in Ros' face. He had just gotten back from yelling at the man, in his kilt, about the proper condition of weapons so that they wouldn't blow up in unsuspecting Vulcan's faces.

"I swear- the next time that guy asks for a fixin'- I'm kicking him out and leavin' him to fix it himself. 'Oh- I thought my phaser didn't need a cleaning' Aye..." Ros muttered to himself, palm hitting face at the last sentence. His Scottish accent came out more then the American and Australian one, due to his anger.

He though that being the head of weaponry would be fun- maybe a bit dangerous. Ros didn't expect to have a bunch of nincompoops who didn't know how to keep their phasers working. It wasn't rocket science! He removed his face from his palm as he kept on walking to the Rec Room so that he wouldn't knock into anyone. There were very few people in the hallways, and only the newer people stared at the 24-year-old, almost girlishly slender Vulcan in a kilt, black knee socks, and leather shoes. He rubbed his bandaged and bruised fingers together in anticipation of some good old fashioned "Ros Time". Maybe he could even convince an officer or ensign to try and teach him chess. Ros knew he'd probably stink at it- but at least he'd know how to play. Besides, if he beat the pants off of someone, that could give him some serious bragging rights...

He sidestepped to the left to avoid hitting a pretty young lassie in a red shirt, which jarred him out of his thoughts. Now- the Rec Room, yes, that's where he was going. [/blockquote]

[skytracker]

Sky was pissed. No, pissed didn't even begin to cover it. Some idiot had just been assigned to the armory and actually tried to put a torpedo in backwards. Sky had a complete bitch fit. She was in the boys face screaming at him. If that was what Starfleet was going to give her to work with, she was going to resign. No where in her court orders did it say she had to serve a certain number of years. It only said she had to enlist and attend the academy.

Ok, maybe she wouldn't resign. Maybe she'd just deck the next crewman who didn't have a clue. She'd been building torpedoes and their launchers since she was sixteen. No new recruit was going to tell her she was wrong and then try to blow up the damn ship. On top of that, she had just found out that her brother, Miles -- the only person on the planet she truely hated -- was also assigned to this ship. And of course, it didn't help that the damn ship wasn't moving. One thing was for sure though, they weren't leaving spacedock with something wrong with her armory.

Her shining red hair was tossed behind her head, out of her eyes. This allowed her to see her surroundings a little more clearly. There, directly ahead of her, she saw something that made her stop in her tracks. At first, her jaw dropped open. Of course, as proud as she was, the jaw dropping quickly became a deep laughter -- the kind that originates in one's belly. This boy was wearing the long sleeved shirt of Starfleet with a single bar. His bar indicated him an ensign but that was definitely not what made the woman laugh.

His leather shoes, knee high socks, and plad skirt had the lieutenant rolling. Yes, the boy was wearing a skirt. No...what are those things? she thought. They're scottish...kilt! Her laughter ebbed slightly as tears ran down her face. She absolutely couldn't help herself. The first words out of her mouth were, "You look ridiculous!" She stood there for a moment to regain her composure. She took the two or three steps toward him and offered her hand. "Sky Timber."

[jamie]

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When he avoided hitting the first girl, he got a chance to look at the walls for a second. There was nothing special about the walls per say, just white upon white upon goddamn white. It was like he was in a mental institution or something- although he wouldn't be suprised if that was the case. Even after all this time, he still hadn't gotten used to the idea that he was actually on the Enterprise. The Star Fleet flagship Enterprise. It was amazing, in and of itself- even if some of the people on board had less intelligence than a turnip. He started to hear laughter.

Ros stopped in his tracks, the tiny slip of hair covering his pointy ears moved behind his ears from the sudden stop. He wasn't aware of it's movement, besides, he was to busy looking at the woman who was laughing at him. As she laughed, he couldn't help but starting to laugh too. His accent was back in equilibrium for the most part, although the scottish influences stuck out a bit more than the rest. It was natural, since he had grown up in a very heavy accented area of Scotland. Ros didn't get hurt by the comment at all- he'd heard the same many times, and he frankly didn't care. The kilt was the most comfortable thing he owned. Like hell was anyone going to ban him from wearing it during shore leave.

"Well, at least I look better in a kilt than some of the heaftier engineers!"

It was true, if he ever saw some of the heftier men in a kilt, Ros was sure he was going to instantly throw up. Wearing a kilt was a privilege, not a right, in his opinion. Ros had wished that he'd been able to say that to some of the Scotland tourists... The memories brought an internal shiver to his mind. He watched as she approached him and offered her hand. At this closeness, Ros could see the sparkle of laughter tears on the edges of her eyes. He was confident that he had a few on the edges of his eyes too. He gave her a hearty handshake, a wide and cantankerous smile on his face. Ros' accent was the same as the previous statement that he said, although the Aussie came out a bit more.

"Ros Stuart" [/blockquote]

[skytracker]

Sky was still trying to control her laughter. What can one expect? She had read about guys in the old days wearing skirts, but she never thought she'd actually see one. This guy, clear as day, was standing right in front of her, wearing a kilt. His words sounded almost musical. The image he brought to her mind actually made her gag. She could just see some of Scott's men in a kilt. The idea was positively revolting. Why would one even think of that? She internally shivered.

Luckilly, he didn't take her insult to heart. Already, she liked him. He didn't get all bent out of shape over something as petty as that. She studdied his half uniform a little more closely. His bar was red and the insignia said "Enterprise". Mildly surprised at how firm his grip was, she equalled it. A firm handshake says alot about a person. She stopped and cocked her head slightly. "Stuart..." Quickly she hid her curiousity. She had heard his name before but couldn't place where. A smile lit her features. "Nice to meet you."

For the first time in a while she was glad of her choice of clothing for the day. Simple jeans and a t-shirt with tennis shoes. She could've been a civilian for all the average person knew. Nothing on her showed her rank or job. She took a minute to study the male before her. The pointy ears imediately gave him away as Vulcan and both her eyebrows raise. "Hold up! A laughing Vulcan!? I'm high. I've got to be." She stepped back and continued looking at him. Maybe he was a hybrid...not human though. Yet, scottish? Now, Sky was confused.

[jamie]

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Ros kind of liked the girl standing in front of him already. She had a good sense of humor, and a strong handshake. Ros had never met anyone that he didn't like that had a good handshake, at least not yet. He mulled over her name in his head, trying to place where he had heard it before. Her muttering of his last name also signaled that she had heard his name before somehow. Before he let go of her hand, he gave a little nod, a subconscious thing that his grandfather had embedded in him, and acknowledged her words in his own drawl.

"Nice to meet you too."

He looked at her own attire and wondered if she was a new part of the crew. Ros didn't say anything though, because it was shore leave and a lot of people were partially or fully out of uniform like her. Despite being raised by his grandfather, Ros still relied a bit on logic on these kind of things. When he let go of her hand, he didn't draw it behind his back. Rather, he just let it lay simply at his side, his fingers limp against the plaid fabric. People passed the two conversing, and he could see some frustrated faces because some people had to go around the two.

Ros didn't really care- if they got so annoyed by having to step around two people talking then they needed to get counseling or something. A bit of movement in her face, seen from his peripheral vision, made him look at her again. Her eyebrows were raised, and, in natural reaction, he brought up his right hand to see if his ears were uncovered. They were, and he cursed in his head. Ros watched her step back and look at him. He smiled sheepishly, and said:

"Aye, I'm Vulcan, and no you're not high as far I can see."

He scratched the back of his head before crossing his arms right around where his stomach was. He lifted both eyebrows too, and smiled. Ros was a smiling Vulcan- go figure. [/blockquote]

[skytracker]

Sky paid no heed to the people passing. There weren't many people she had to answer to, and she'd notice if any of those people came by. Not that it really mattered, of course, they were on shore leave. She noticed his almost embarrassed expression. He was hiding something. She didn't know what, but he was hiding something. There was more to this 'Vulcan' than met the eye. She shrugged the feeling off. He was defintely Vulcan...he just wasn't Vulcan. That line made the same amount of sense in the lieutenant's mind.

She studied him for a minute. "But. Vu- med- and th- e- ah- en- ugh. Huh!?" What was supposed to be well thought out and planned sentences became a jumbled mess of stuttering and confusion. She took a deep breath and tried not to laugh at her own stupidity. "That's exactly what I was trying to say. Hang on." A smirk and another deep breath. This time, she actually took a few seconds to think her words out before something spewed from her lips.

She'd met a Vulcan before. Sky found that Vulcans were uncaring bastards that were more like computers than they were alive. They had no heart or soul. A whine suddenly sounded from her heel. Without a second though she reached back with her right hand and reassured the wolf that had basically just appeared from no where. "Easy Hera. I'm ok." The canine was eying Ensign Stuart like a piece of meat. At Sky's soothing words, she calmed. Sky turned back to the 'man' before her.

"Ok. Vulcans mediate every night so that they can have complete reign on their emotions. Something about their emotions being much stronger than humans and blah blah blah. Anyway. Vulcans are not supposed to laugh, smile, or have any type of cheery behavior. It's some unspoken law. The ones who opted out of the nightly meditation break things. Should I be alarmed?" She grinned. The officer had a deep admiration for anything that defeated the norm. "Why don't we find somewhere to sit? I'm emensely curious about you."

[jamie]

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Ros expected a bit of confusion, so the muddled sentence didn't surprise him in the least. All he did was raise his two eyebrows a bit more and tilt his head slightly. Ros allowed her to compose herself a bit. Ros again let his eyes wander to the other people in the crowd. It was for a few minutes- as long as the time that Miss Timber was trying to come up with questions. Ros heard a whine and looked back at Miss Timber, and saw what looked like a hungry wolf at her feet. It was just instinct, but he stepped back on step to put distance between the himself and the wolf that had appeared out of nowhere. Ros was starting to think that he, himself, had gone bonkers. How could he have not noticed the wolf before?

He still stayed back a bit, even though she seemed to have controlled her wolf- Hera, he though it's name was. Ros took a bit of a step forward, glancing down at the controlled wolf once before letting himself relax slightly back into his old position. Ros watched as she laid out her thoughts and confuse head in words. He nodded every other sentence, acknowledging her statements. True, most Vulcans did not express emotion, but not all. All would be a huge mistake, seeing as how there were emotional Vulcans out there. One just had to know where they were, to be honest. He gave a smile at her grin, stating in a voice leaning more towards his American and Australian accents than his Scottish one. His bad mood was being lifted rather quickly by someone who was curious about him.

"Oh no- my grandfather taught me enough control to function in society normally without being all emotionless. He hated all sorts of Vulcan customs and practices, y'know."

He looked up at the white ceiling for a second, lost in thought, but then he looked down at Sky and replied.

"Well- two options, Rec Room, or a bar outside where they serve some good ol' fashioned beer."

Ros really wanted some form of alcoholic drink at that moment. He wasn't an alcoholic-whacha-ma-call-it. He just loved the taste and the fun of liquor. [/blockquote]

[skytracker]

Sky had to try not to laugh at his reaction to the usually docile animal at her side. Most people reacted much the same way when they saw any of Sky's best friends. Hera, Hypnos, and Chronos knew more of the young woman's secrets than she knew. Sometimes it bothered that they seemed to be able to take everything in stride while she was left stumbling and falling flat on her face at every new trick. It was the animal way, and she knew that. That didn't mean she had to like it.

She listened to Ros's words. Something about his grandfather teaching him how to function. She nodded, completely transfixed by this new person. He was truely different. It wasn't really something he strived for, he just was. In a way, it pissed Sky off. But her green streak could never outdo her curiousity. Thank the gods she's not a cat. He replied again and a real smile lit her feature. Where she was from, drinking was a nightly activity. Ever since she had enlisted she had been allowed a grand total of one drink. The girl was dying.

"I'll take the bar. It's been forever since I had a good drink. Besides, I'd love to get away from the idiotic excuses for field rats on this damn ship." Some of her anger from the torpedo incedent flared up again. "Fuckin' crewmen. I'm gonna kill one of 'em before this is all said and dun," her thick Texan accent was clearly audible as her emotion level rose. She stepped aside so that her new 'friend' -- if he could yet be called that -- could lead the way. Afterall, she had only just gotten here. She may like alcohol, but she wasn't a drunk...usually.

[jamie]

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As soon as Ros saw her smile, he kind of knew she'd like the idea of a good drink as much as him. It was refreshing to see a woman who could hold her alcohol. He'd drunk a lot with his grandfather back in Scotland, and knew good quality from poor easily. One could say that his grandfather had raised him on fighting and alcohol- two things that Vulcans typically objected too. Ever since he'd gone into Star Fleet, he hadn't had time to drink between classes like he used too. When he had time, he went down to the bar, but it was boring and annoying being around people he didn't know. It was like being a tropical fish in an antartic sea- he felt kind of out of place. It didn't help that he was Vulcan, and had to hide that part of himself in order not to be stared at like he was loony. He listened to her dislike over the field rats on the ship. A dislike that Ros had as well.

"Oi, yea- they don't know one lickin about weapons handling. Actually, the reason why my hands look like they've already gone through war was because one thought it was proper matinence not to clean his phaser. Blew me straight into the sky with it, practically," Ros replied with a hearty laugh, showing his bruised, and overly bandaged hands.

He did have some anger in his face over the incident. The anger was more directed at losing a good piece of weaponry rather than the injuries or the man who caused it. He'd gotten out the anger directed at those other two things when he yelled at the idiotic guy. Ros nodded at her threat against the crewman.

"I'll join ya in that."

Ros also felt like killing some of the crewmen before they killed him with their antics. He could swear that some of the men thought that the torpedos, and other weapons were just playthings. An idea that would probably be squashed later on after they got through a real fight. But for now, he'd have to be on his guard for exploding phasers and misaligned torpedoes. Ros, after the woman allowed him to pass, started to move towards the hatch that would let them outside of the grounded Enterprise. He actually had pockets on this quilt, and stuck his hand in those, his right hand wrapping around his leather wallet in his right pocket. He allowed Sky to catch up, and said out loud in a voice dripping with excitement over drinking.

"The 'cademy's bar isn't that bad. Has some good liquor since the students usually drink the bad stuff quickly."[/blockquote]

[skytracker]

"You had a what!?" Sky was dumbfounded. She had glanced at his hands earlier, figured he'd gotten into a nasty bar fight. The idea that one of her men actually didn't clean his phaser... "Of all the stupid, idiotic, moronic things one can do. He didn't clean his phaser?" she took a deep breath. "Who was the embicile? I'm gonna ring his fuckin' neck. Oh my gawd!" She was breathing heavilly and her accent was as thick as it was before she had attended the academy.

She had caught up to him by this point and was looking at his hand properly. Yep, he pulled the trigger of a dirty phase pistol. The fact that he still had a hand assured her that it was only set to 'stun'. Thank the gods for that. She stared at him in disbelief. "I was alignin' the launchers earlier an' a new recruit actually put the damn torpedo in backwards. If I hadn't caught it in time, it'd have blown the whole ship to pieces."

She shook her head in almost fury. "So that's two sorry excuses for dog shit on this ship. How many others are there?" The question was rhetoric, but if one wanted to answer it, one could. Suddenly a thought struck her. "Hey, what do you do? What's your job?" she asked, rather bluntly. At this point, they were alsmost to the bar. His comment about the students drinking all the crap quickly almost brought a smile to her face, but the residual anger from the idiocy in her department was too much to be equalled.

[jamie]

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"Aye, an' I already 'rang his neck' myself. Just got back from it actually," Ros said, popping his knuckles with a devious expression on his face.

He did admit, yelling at the man was kind of fun, although he had been too infuriated to really notice his amusement. He wondered if T'Pia was right and he really was a bit of a sadist when it came to other's emotions when he was angry. A nearly unnoticeable wince passed through his face when he touched one bandage that had spots of coppery green blood on it. He watched and listened as her accent took on a more Texan edge. Ros though that he had been the only one who had an accent that really came out when he was angry- as naive as that sounded. But there Sky was, breathing hard and with a general look of a dumbfound nature on her face. Ros watched her expression change from dumbfounded to disbelief as she saw his hands again. When she started to tell her own story, the muscles in his face turned from his normal happy and devious expression to one of angry surprise. His face turned angrier as the story went on, although the anger wasn't towards her, but to the actual idiotic newbie.

"Oh great gatsby, Imma now fearin' for my life when it comes to the people on board more than I am enemy ships. That just ain't right. Glad ya caught it- I don't wanna be floatin' debry, thank ye very much."

He gave a loud sigh as they walked to the bar, right when she was shaking her head. Ros didn't give a reply to her comment about the dog shit newbies who were messing up the weapons for the two of them. Her comment about the torpedoes did get him thinking about what job she did. Ros had been assigned to Armory Officer, and he knew he had to report to someone. He hoped it was Sky, honestly, because he didn't want to have a sissy running deadly weapons. Ros, with his accent draped over his words, answered her question.

" 'rmory Officer. You?"

Ros was kind of glad to see a smile on her face, although he could tell that the anger was still there. He was sure he had the same kind of expression on his face because he was well aware that he'd have to work with the idiots when he got back. Ros just kind of hoped that he made it a day on the Enterprise, because it would stink if he got blown up by a fool's mistake. He'd at least like to kick some alien butt before he went down, thank ye very much. [/blockquote]