Part of USS Denver: Mission 1: Flight of the Valkyries

Down Time – Zebulon Pike

Mess Hall/Crew Quarters
January 20, 2400 09:35
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The Pike was at warp heading for Terra Alpha Colony. The steady hum of the engines carrying the ship through time and space was almost therapeutic. 

Aimee Sandoval sat across Dougal in the mess hall, and for once they were the only ones present with the others either asleep in their quarters or on duty.  Not that that this ship required a full crew to run it. 

She picked up her toast which was smeared with  strawberry jam and bit into it with a crunch. “Any plans for today?”

Dougal swallowed his oatmeal before speaking.  With a shrug of his shoulders he responded,  “Nay lass. Stephens has the tactical watch aye. I was thinking of going to the gym an’ doing some dead lifts.”

Aimee smiled coyly, “Does that mean I have you all to myself?”

Dougal ran his spoon through his porridge before speaking,  “Aye, I suppose it does.”

“Good,” Aimee said with satisfaction and she leaned across the table and kissed him on the lips.

Aimee rolled over in her bunk and wrapped her arm over Dougal’s bare chest and hour later.  Leaning in, she kissed him on the cheek.  His eyes were closed, but he let out a deep rumble of a chuckle.

“I dinnae think this is going to build too many muscles, but I ken this was a workout.”

“Count it as a cardio day,” Aimee suggested. 

“That it was lass. That it was.”  He opened one eye to look at her.  “Ye have the prettiest green eyes.”

Aimee blushed, “Thank you I suppose.”

There was silence for several moments,  both just enjoying the company of the other.  There was something to just living in the moment. 

“I love you,” Dougal said suddenly. 

Aimee’s head shot up from his chest uncertain she’d even heard him correctly at first.  After a moment of getting her thoughts together she smiled,  melted into him. “I love you too you pig headed Scot.”

Dougal laughed,  “Ye couldn’t resist the insult could you?”

“What could I say?  It was low hanging fruit.”

“Aye it is, but I love you for it mo chridhe.”

“What is that word?” Aimee asked as she tried to repeat it butchered the Gaelic badly. 

Dougal laughed, “Mo chridhe. It means my ‘my heart’.” Aimee smiled at that and the fell into each other’s arms for a second round of passion.