PWD #24: Is Something Wrong?
Is Something Wrong?
Summary: When isn't something wrong? AKA Poor Knox and Talkshow
Date: 11/12/2012
Related Logs: Indiscretions Clear and Present Danger
Aios Ceres Knox 
The Head is the area on the Battlestar to find showers and bathrooms and this is one of many throughout the ship. Male and female crew members share the area equally as space is at a premium on fleet ships. There are half a dozen shower stalls and enclosed toilets as well as urinals along the wall. The room, an L shape dogleg, has the entrance open into the sink area. There are four sinks on the left and four on the right sitting back to back in the middle of the room.
December 11, 2004 (PWD #24)

The water of her stall is near scalding as Ceres lingers in silence, ignoring the passing of others that are heading out for either a meal or their bunk. The head is a melting pot more than anywhere else and trying to hurry through her cleansing ritual, she does not give a note to anything near her. She reaches back, trying to find the towel to help clear her eyes from the suds of the soap, a slight burning sensation causing her to flail about blindly. She wipes at her eyes, trying to blink them open to see and failing.

Daniel has just finished trying off, and with a towel wrapped around his waist, he steps out into the head proper. A lightly muscular torso with the hint of washboard abs crests his stomach, which he gives a quiet look over into one of the fog-stained mirrors as he passes. Movement catches his eye, and he turns to see Ceres, his wingmate, flailing blindly for her towel. He steps over to her shower stall, lifts the towel from its hook, and places it into her hands.

"CAP was…awfully quiet today." He comments, his voice carrying a hint of concern. "Is everything okay, Ceres?"

"Thanks…" Ceres' says when her hand grasps the towel, but hesitates as she seems to recognize the voice. She rubs at her face and holds the towel out to not get it wet, dipping her head back under quickly to wash off the rest of the soap from around her face and hair. "That happens some times…" She says non-chalantly, then turns the showerhead off, a few linger drips clinging to the rim as she runs the towel to her hair. "Yeah, everythings just fine." Its said almsot impassively and without thought. Stepping out, past him, she belatedly wraps the towel around her, slipping the edge into the front. She doesn't even bother lingering to find out why he might be concerned, instead brushing past to get to the small tote of her bath goods.

He doesn't even need to move his shoulder out of the way as she passes, as she avoids touching him altogether. Quieted, the blonde writer turned pilot folds his arms across his chest and watches her pass. Her bared shoulders, clean against her long strands of dark hair, are a wall to him, and as she moves he watches the way her shoulderblades pull beneath her skin. He frowns. Something is definitely wrong.

Turning, he moves to follow her, coming to a stop at the sink beside hers. He turns the tap on, running his hand under the cooled water. Hesitating to try to make eye contact, he uses his ears as his eyes, paying attention to whether or not she's moving away from him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Quiet. That much is obvious. Ceres is utterly quiet and she leans into the sink, shuffling through her toiletries and pulling out a moisterizer just as he speaks. It halts her, her hand pressing down into the side of the sink with a soft tink as the bottle collides with the porcelain. Her jaw tightens, flexing faintly as she draws a long breath. Staring down at the faucet a moment, she recovers, all of this occuring in a manner of seconds. "Its better not to."

She is quick about it, squirting a bit of the moisturizer into her hands and then shoving the bottle back into the bag before rubbing an ample around her cheeks and up along her forehead as she lifts her gaze to the mirror to see what she is doing. This allows her a glance at him and it causes her body to tense, those shoulder blades drawing back again out of reaction.

Doing his best to not look dumbstruck, Talkshow's eyebrows knit together. The air between the two of them becomes a soupy, tangible minefield that he doesn't feel the need to cross. All of the sudden she has become like a stranger to him, carrying out sterile one-line conversations that could be walked away from in an instant. Earlier, the man had doesn't that something was wrong, but there's no denying it now. She has closed up on him.

He places his hand, lightly curled into a fist, near his mouth and clears his throat. Uncomfortable, he glances up and down the row of showers, finding them alone for the moment. A small sigh escapes his lips, and then he takes the plunge.

"Did something happen?" He pauses, lowering his voice. "I don't need details, but if it did and you need space then…I won't corner you over it."

A sigh escapes her and she turns, grabbing her bag of toiletries and beginning to walk away, yet Ceres' voice echoes back to him in a sort of tether that keeps them at least tied together in some fashion. "You asked me to Caprica." Its simply put, easily said and didn't they have this conversation before? Isn't it settled.

That ire and discomfort mixes, making Redux into a rather unsettled and unstable ground to be walked. "Look.." She slows, turns around to face him. "I can't do commitment…and I can't face your son. That is a step that I just can't take. To have him look at me and expect something since I am with you. A kid, expecting something of me. I don't have kids for a reason, I don't have obligations." She lets out a vexated sigh, her hand lifting to her head to rub at it before she draws it away swiftly. Frustration ebbs, cleaving through the air between them. "Daniel, I can't handle a relationship with labels or expectations." She meets his gaze then.

Something unhinges in Talkshow's jaw while she speaks, and the length of over ten feet between the two of them is a lane on a firing range. Effectively slapped in the face with her words, his eyes go dark and his suspicions are made reality. Trapping his lower lip between his teeth, he strides towards her, but instead of stopping in front of her, he passes and reaches out to his locker door. Dressing will put a few more layers of clothes on him, and allow for the conversation to end if it gets any uglier.

"I'm told that back home he's calling David his father, and our Judge Advocate General has suggested that my willingness to sign for another eighteen month stay with Task Force NOMAD is the basis that they have set to make a case for abandonment." Talkshow flattens his lips and then breaks eye contact, turning back to his locker. Apparently the meeting with the JAG didn't go so well. "What do you want, Ceres? Endless pointing in one direction has a manner of running out of road eventually. I apologize if I scared you, but it wasn't my intention."

It needed to be said, Ceres at least has that defense but as he brushes past her, its her turn to feel the twist of her gut and her face starts to crack, even if the tension remains in her jaw. She turns slightly, giving him a look along her shoulder, wrapped in nothing but a towel and hair drippng wet. "I am sorry." She says faintly in regards to Jamey. "Nothing I said was meant as a shot at you and your son, really. I just can't commit to being there for both of you. I don't do that." She draws a breath and hesitates, drawing on a few feet closer to him.

What does she want. That question stops her and for a moment, she looks…uncertain. It shows across her face. "I want to just worry about my career, enjoy life…" But really tshe has not solid answer, it seems self-defeating in the tone she says it.

The hatch opens and then shuts behind the Marine entering. He's got a large duffel with him, which gets stuffed into a locker rather unceremoniously. There is obvious Awkwardness in the air and he does his best to brush it off and not pay attention to talk of kids. Off comes the rest of his clothing and out comes a towel. Nope, not paying attention. JAG, kids, can't be there, yep. He only glances to Aios before turning around and heading for the showers. At seeing Ceres, though, he stops and blinks. Hesitating for a moment, he stares as if not quite sure what to do… and then he walks past her towards the showers.

"It's…okay. It's not your doing, you know, perhaps if I had made the choice that you're making now I wouldn't have these problems." Daniel replies, momentarily distracted by the presence of another in the room. His eyes tilt from Ceres to Knox, who receives a quiet nod. When the man turns towards the showers, he looks back to Ceres. He sighs to her, giving her a what am I going to do with you look. He turns back to the locker and the towel goes away, his arm reaching in for his clothes.

"The hard truth about all of this is that I could have resigned or requested reassignment to be closer to him, but I didn't. There's all of these unsaid rules that I'm supposed to follow, being a father, a pilot, and none of them are any more than vague." He stops to pull his boxers on, it's only polite, though as he does so he doesn't make eye contact. "It was more fun back when we were just running around not giving a frak, wasn't it?"

Ceres hesitates, watching Aios but distracted when Knox stares at her, "Yeah, it was…it really was. It was much easier. I didn't question anything…or myself." This is just awkward now, her voice faltering as her gaze follows Knox, brows knitting. Her ire and frustration is still there and her agitation lashes out at the marine, "What the frak are you looking at? Huh? This is not some sideshow. Take a frakking picture, it'll last longer!" Daniel got off easy with how she lashes out, her shoulder lifting, tensing and making her look like a cornered animal ready to strike again.

SHe turns back to Talkshow. Run. But she doesn't strike or let loose, she lets out a long breath. "We all have choices, Talkshow. Look, would you prefer if we just…give ourselves a break or end it…I am not even sure.." Her voice has lowered.

The Marine stops at the outburst and looks slowly back to her with a lofted brow. Over his shoulder, he just looks her up and down for a moment, but its not the kind of predatory gaze of someone looking to hit or hit-on. He looks surprised and a little impressed. He tilts a smile away and whistles up a tune as he heads into a shower and gets to it.

Talkshow idly scratches his chest while watching Ceres and Knox. The way the man looks to her forces his brows to knit again, and he lets Knox know that he's looking in his direction. It's a line drawn in the sand, or at the very least the marking of some sort of unofficial territory. Old habits die hard.

"I wouldn't prefer it unless it's what you really wanted. There's no need to bolt you down over something that you're not interested in being a part of." Talkshow replies to her, halting his dressing ritual so that the crux of the conversation can take place. His eyes soften, locking onto hers. "But in truth, I would have rather preferred you asked me just what sort of role I wanted for you in my life. I just like having you around, and it's only natural that when you want something around to want to keep it around."

Knox is given another look, especially when there is whistling and hackles rise. Ceres bristles and looks about ready to follow after but keeps herself rooted. Daniel begins to speak again and Redux returns her attention to him. Her lips part, wetting her lips as she catches her breath and then moves past him, down the row of lockers to open her own and tug out her tanks and sweats, using the metal door as a sort of screen. A heavy sigh escapes her, returning that gaze and lingering. "I can be around, Daniel. I just can't be there for Jamey..or for you in that capacitiy. If its not something you can handle, its best we just save each other the pain." She admits to him and lets the towel drop, lifting the tank tops to pull it on.

The Marine exits the shower a moment later. Fast, ain't he? He doesn't even look at the other two, walking as he towels off. Nope, he cares not. The guy heads back to the locker, takes up the clothes and gets just dressed enough to GTFO and be presentable as he can. Bai!

"Let's…just get dressed and we'll talk about this over dinner." Daniel replies quietly, lowering his head as she passes. "It's complicated, but I'm not asking you to be there for Jamey, but I don't understand what you mean about not being able to be there for me. I need to know what that means first, where those boundaries are. At the very least, what could be the end of this deserves a conversation with less…getting dressed involved." He turns towards his locker, cutting off the conversation so that he can finish. "Just…let's agree to not make any final decisions until we agree on it."

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