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The Team |
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Major Anne Teldy |
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Cpt. Alicia Vega |
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Sgt. Dusty Mehra |
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Mehra |
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Mehra |
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Dr. Porter |
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You're welcome. Now.
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"Hey there. You okay?"
Alison would turn around in response; she would, but Marie's raised eyebrow stops her. That, and the hooked needle Marie has just finished threading through the - thankfully anaesthetised - skin of her shoulder.
Besides, Alison doesn't need to see to know who's there: the team member who was eyeing her throughout the mission as if afraid she'd screw it up, until she did. Who obviously felt how jittery Alison's nerves were from the moment she stepped off-world in Pegasus for the first time again, P-90 or not.
"Hi Dusty. Yes, I'm fine." Movement in Allison's field of vision, and right, there she is. In all her black-clad, kick-ass glory, hands on her hips. Dusty Mehra would not have been struck by this lion-maned horse-creature's claw-hooves: it would have been wise and run galloped away. "Just. Maybe it's too early, after all."
A snort and a dismissive head-toss. "C'mon, Porter. After twenty-five days back on Earth?"
True, they were pretty long. Made longer by a certain awkward doctor who, as it turned out, calls his mother various pet names. Scottish ones.
But for Dusty to act as if Pegasus were a cakewalk? "And still your suspicions were right."
"What?" Dusty gives her a long look that makes Alison feel decidedly…odd. "Suspicions?"
Right. She's taking a leaf out of the Sergeant Dusty Mehra book of barging forward. "Look, I know I hardly did well off-world today."
Dusty blinks. Once, twice. And then she starts smirking. "Yeah, because you should totally be able to fight off six-feet-high horse-lions on your own. Totally, you should. Bare-handed, I'm thinking."
Okay, put like that…
Dusty hadn't been expecting her to fail, actually seemed fine with her performance back on the team. Now Alison is curious. Of course; she's a scientist. "Why were you watching me so closely on PX3-362, then?"
Alison didn't expect Dusty's expression at that. Wide-eyes, nervous frown. All that's missing is the proverbial cookie jar, really.
"Uh, that." Dusty looks down, fiddles inexplicably with the hem of her t-shirt. Wait. Mehra not in uniform? It's a form-fitting shirt too, outlining her boobs, the toned arms, and the flat stomach. "You wonder why I kept you company, back on the planet where - where we lost Vega?"
It's Alison's turn to stare. "Because it's um, in your job description?"
"Okay, yeah, true." Dusty glances at her, and away again. "But that wasn't the only reason."
Obviously. Only that Alison cannot imagine -
oh.
"You were pretty okay. For a scientist. From the first day on, with the gun, and the quick thinking. And I just thought you're a civilian cool with all sorts of stuff, so," Dusty exhales noisily, "I guess I just thought - that maybe you..."
Alison feels something warm in her chest expand. Just a little, but it's there. And it's easy to finish Dusty's sentence. "...wanted to go and have dinner together."
"Dinner together - yes. That's it. What I wanted. And you - what you wanted." Dusty looks grateful. Also hot, Alison realises, which she had known all along but not quite processed correctly. "You sure you're up for it? We can ask Marie –"
Or not.
"Marie is gone." Alison can't help the smile.
"And probably has been for a while, actually." Dusty is grinning too, amusement and relief - a lot of that. "And we didn't even notice."
Later - as well as much later - Alison thinks there were definite reasons for that.
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Bonus image. ;)
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