It's in the ale

Posted on Wed Jan 22nd, 2020 @ 5:05pm by Senior Chief Petty Officer Mason Malone & Lieutenant Kevan Dash

Mission: In the Family
Location: Bar
Timeline: MD-02
2067 words - 4.1 OF Standard Post Measure

Sitting in the bar and sampling a glass of his favourite Kesatian ale, Kevan watched the room intently. It was strange, he realised, that after Korra he'd found himself struggling to find his rhythm again. She'd been bad for him, of course; all emotion and instability. He no longer had game.

Staring around, he noted a Bajoran Ensign sitting in the corner. She looked cute, but had her head in a PADD and was whispering under her breath. Praying, he figured. Religious type - probably not for him. Then there were the two women in sciences uniforms at the other end of the bar. Talking and giggling together. He made eye contact. Grinned. Then broke the eye contact. He felt guilty. Why did he feel guilty?

Downing the last of his glass, he brought the glass down on the bar as he sensed another body appear in the stool next to him.

Still in his greens, Mason sighed. He had replicated his new yellows, had stared at them laid out on his bed and just couldn't get himself to change. It was as if he was asked to give up his identity, and even though he knew what he'd gotten himself into with this change, he just wasn't ready. "Whatever he was having," he ordered, pointing at his neighbour's glass. "What were you having?"

"Kesatian ale. Always." Kevan shook his empty glass. He wasn't quite buzzed, but he'd had two of them already. "I own a few bottles. Well, owned. Probably not got much of it left anymore." He nodded appreciation as the bartender filled them up.

"I don't think I've ever had it," Mason admitted as he studied the Trill next to him. He bit his lower lip as he appreciated the man's spots. "And why owned? Did you lose them?" He offered a somewhat shy smile. "Sergeant Mason Malone," he said. "Oh.. I mean warrant officer now... I mean it is warrant officer now," he added in a stumble of words.

"Sergeant..." Kevan echoed, noticing the slip. "You're not dressed like a marine, Warrant Officer." Probably a good job, too, he thought to himself.

"I'm not?" Mason looked down at his uniform, his beloved and comfortable greens. "Then what do you suppose these are? Scrubs?"

Kevan blinked. He looked the man down. Damn. Marine.

"Huh. Guess so." He hesitated. "Funnily enough, a marine took some of my bottles when she left."

"Oh... Well I'm not a thief, and if she is I'm sure security can get them back for you?" He looked the man over. "I'd be happy to help get it done. Seems that's my new job, run investigations. It'd help to have your name though..."

"Oh. Kevan. Kevan Dash. I'm...in Security myself, actually." He paused, trying to add a few things together. Maybe it was the drink. "So what are you, security? Marines?"

"Ah... Security..." Mason hid his face behind his glass, taking a big gulp of the unknown ale. "I just couldn't bring myself to give up the greens just yet. I've been a marine ever since I signed up as a wee recruit..." His accent was heavy as he spoke. "My sisters weren't too pleased when the Benjamin of us all signed up."

Kevan didn't quite understand the reference. He was preoccupied with the fact that he was sat drinking with a marine. Well, a former one, at least. "Wouldn't know what that's like," he replied. "I'm an only child. Dad died when I was younger, so never really had anyone." Not really anyone he cared to talk about, anyway.

"I lost my parents when I was five," Mason answered, nodding knowingly, "I have four older sisters, my oldest sister was left to raise us all." He took another ship of his drink, watching the other man carefully. "Trust me, being the only boy wasn't easy, especially being the youngest of all."

"Guess we're in the same boat then." Kevan touched his glass against the other man's. "Fatherless boys. Don't think I'll ever want kids of my own."

"Why not?" Mason openly stared at him. "They add so much to your life, even if they're time consuming... Especially girls..."

"Ugh. Girls..." Kevan rolled his eyes. "No, the only thing kids add to your life is trouble. Not for me, thanks. I don't even want one of those slugs crawling around in my abdomen, either."

Mason frowned. "I have a teenage daughter," he said slowly, "and even though I feel too young to be her dad, I love her and shall miss her dearly. Though I don't think there's anything wrong with not wanting to be joined?"

"Probably not." He took another gulp of ale, savouring the taste on his tongue. It wasn't unusual for non-Trill to miss the cultural implications of being unjoined. He wasn't really ready to talk about it, though. "Teenage daughter, huh? You don't look old enough."

"She's about twelve," Mason answered, "she's my adopted daughter. She lives with my ex now, but we stay in touch." He sighed softly. "So...no girls huh?" He drained the content of his glass, watching the Trill intently.

"Hell no," Kevan shook his head. "Can you imagine?" he snorted a little into his glass.

"Hmm no," Mason chuckled, "I have four sisters though, so I do know girls... But no girls for me." He wondered though, as he leaned a little closer. "You're quite handsome..." He ventured carefully.

Kevan smirked. "I hear that a lot too. It's the spots. They always seem to like the spots..."

"Hmm the spots are part of it," Mason smirked back, pushing his glass away. "You have this air about you... I don't know. I think you're cute." It was perhaps a good thing Mason never truly indulged in alcohol. Otherwise he might venture beyond his limits.

"Cute?" Kevan echoed. It wasn't the word he might have used. And a strange one for a marine to use, in his experience. Then again, his limited experience of marines had been localised mainly to Korra, and she was probably a little harder than most. Even the guys. He glanced over at Mason, sizing him up. "I don't think I've used that one before. Ruggedly handsome was usually my approach."

"If that's what you prefer," Mason shrugged. "So...what do you do for fun? When you're not in duty..."

"Other than drinking by myself? Running..." Kevan sighed. "Usually after the wrong kind of tail," he said quietly, tossing another unsuccessful look around the bar. "What about you? Sharing drinks with the hopelessly lost?"

"Play baseball, work out, work on some linguistics problem," Mason answered, "and I'm not sure what you mean by tails. However, I do think you've had enough to drink and I'd rather not be accused of taking advantage of you if push comes to shove..." He smirked. "Been a while since i was single. I was married for quite some time, as I said, got divorced a few weeks ago."

"That's tough, man." Kevan responded by giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I've been there too. Not married, or anything. But...well, you know how marines are. Sometimes they're just not interested in sticking around." He looked around again, a little lazily. "Not like anyone around here's taking advantage of me anyway."

"My ex is a counselor," Mason said, deciding it was now or never. "He's Starfleet," he added slowly, leaning closer to touch the man's cheek with his hand. "I could take advantage of you... You're intoxicated though, so I won't. That would be dishonourable you see..." He paused. "Though I could just kiss you..."

"Yeah, I-" Kevan blinked, sitting a little straighter. "Huh?"

Blue eyes were fixed on the Trill as their owner leaned a fraction closer. "Do I need to spell it out for you?" He asked earnestly. "I like you... You got sense of humour, and you're cute... And I hope, honest..." He was almost close enough to actually kiss him, their noses almost touching. "Unless you're just leading me on here..."

"Woah!" Kevan almost jumped out of his seat. "Hey, woah...I mean...uh, what?" Sure, he'd been drinking, but that was entirely unexpected. He fidgeted rapidly with his hands and feet, not quite sure where to look.

"Really?" Mason rolled his eyes, leaning back. "I guess you have been leading me on then... Unless I've been completely wrong..I mean it's been a while since I was properly seduced..." Years, in fact.

"No, I just...woah." Kevan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm not...that way. I was talking about chasing tail. You know - skirt. As-in the female variety?" He wasn't aware he'd been that buzzed. Although the room was spinning a little. Okay, it was spinning a lot. He put a hand out to steady himself, missing the bar and virtually falling into Mason instead.

"Ah..." Mason caught the man in his strong arms, drawing him close in reflex. "C'mon buddy, let's get you home... You're wasted mate." Hoisting him up, he pulled an arm across his shoulder while putting his own around the Trill's waist. "You need to tell me where your quarters are, otherwise I'm taking you to mine."

"Deck four...I'm not a lightweight, honest..." Kevan mumbled. Seeing one or two looks he was getting, he tried to steady himself despite Mason's grasp. "I like girls!" he declared a little loudly.

"I can handle you," Mason muttered, shaking his head. "And you don't have to shout dear. I already told you I wouldn't take advantage of you in this condition. You're drunk and I'm only getting you home." It was a short trip to the designated deck and Mason stopped at the indicated door. "You're going to have to open it," he suggested calmly. "I'm going to get you to bed and then I'm going to leave. Alright?"

"Sure," Kevan sighed. He'd found his footing by this point - at least mostly - and managed to open the door and semi-stumble through it. "You're...you're a nice guy, Mason. Better than the last marine I got drunk with," he slurred.

"Easy..." Mason guided him to the bedroom, pulled his boots off and eased him down on the bed. "If you want more off you're going to have to do it yourself. I suggest you get some sleep. I'll stay and sleep on the couch. It's irresponsible to leave you alone like this."

Kevan frowned at the suggestion. "I've been worse than this, trust me. I once had three bottles of the stuff and was still conscious." He blinked at his feet, now missing boots. "Not sure why I decided to strip for you, though."

"You aren't," Mason reassured him, while pulling back the covers. "I pulled your boots off and that's the only thing I'm doing. Now lay back." He cast the man a worried frown. If normally he had 3 whole bottles and was fine, and now after a few glasses he was like this? "Maybe your booze is off," he suggested calmly, though with a hint of concern as he himself had a single glass of the stuff too.

"My booze is fine. Maybe you're off..." Kevan grumbled. "Shouldn't have started with the Andorian Shimmer Whisky first. Bad idea. Bad idea." He shook his head.

"Haha," Mason replied dryly, "and mixing drinks just like that is never a good idea. Maybe you should have a cold shower instead, sober you up. And then a good sleep. I ain't stripping you though, I'm sure you can do that yourself." He arched an eyebrow at the man. "Even if I do have experience with hot tubs and showers..." The times he'd put Alex in the tub when he'd had one too many, or was just down and needed help.

"Ohhh, hot tub..." Kevan sat up. Then he fell back down in one smooth motion. "I forgot. I don't have one in my quarters." He nestled his head firmly into a pillow. "Night-night time now."

"I used to... privilege of being married to the chief counselor..." Mason shrugged. "I'll sleep on your couch, make sure you're alright. Good night."

The only response that came from the bed was the gentle sound of snoring coming from the half-undressed man sprawled there.





Lt Kevan Dash
Security Officer
USS Athena
(PNPC Kane)

WO Mason Malone
Investigations officer
pnpc Peter