Author's note. Sorry this chapter is so short, I did honestly try to make it longer, but the plot bunnies wouldn't let me. Hope you enjoy this, nice reviews make me write faster.
Destiny lay comfortably on Conrad's chest, in that pleasant state between waking and sleeping. He idly stroked her hair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and something only he could see.
Captain Scarlet tossed and turned on the bed in sickbay. Images, horrific images of an alien city laid to waste kept rising from the pit of his mind. Suddenly he got to his feet.
Elizabeth sat quietly on the couch in the observation lounge enjoying the view. It was, she was the first to point out, not as dramatic as the sky from Mars, but it was more colourful.
She was also enjoying a few moments to herself. Honestly since she had arrived here, it felt like Bronze had always been dragging her off to introduce her to someone, or show her some part of Skybase. As if being on Mars for nearly a year destroyed you're social skills.
But he was on shift at the moment, and the lounge was deserted. Captain Blue had been in for a few minutes early, but he had wander up to Command Control, to talk with Lieutenant Green a few minutes ago.
The doors opened, and she inwardly groaned, hunching down in her seat, praying he wouldn't see her. But…
"Hey." No such luck. She straightened up and gazed into his grey eyes.
"Good evening Captain Magenta." She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that they were a mistake. He smiled and walked over and retrieved a cup of coffee; Black no sugar, same as always, made his way to sink down opposite her.
"So…" he said, drawing out the word. "Is this way we're going to play it Ruby? Pretend we don't know each other?"
Any other male would be annoyed, but his eyes register only amusement. It was like a knife to the chest.
"We don't know each other, Mario! We used to, but that was a life time ago. And it's Elizabeth!" the last is defiant, to counteract the wistfulness of the last part.
"o.k. o.k." he holds his hands up and she had to fight to keep herself from apologising.
No! Don't go there. Not again.
"You've done well for yourself, Elizabeta." He pronounced it the Italian way, and she has to fight not to tell him not to call her that.
"I've worked hard!" she replied defensively, then as a peace offering. "You haven't done too badly yourself."
He nods acknowledging the peace.
What either of them would have said next, how it would have played out, they never knew. Because at that second, Skybase pitched violently to the left.