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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: D03 {2330 hrs] - …and Party Every Day
Last post by Stegro88 -[Show/Hide]
The night had passed at a pace that was as confusing as the sounds that the holographic band had been outputting for the so called enjoyment of their flesh and blood audience. And yet, she had remained, maintaining her seat at the bar and watching on as the other members of the crew appeared to enjoy themselves, in some cases, immensely it seemed. But she had remained sedate, seated at the bar, enjoying a varied parade of drinks that others had chosen for her. It had been her only real distraction from watching Reggie out of the corner of her eye.
She had tried not to watch her. Had tried to focus on anything but the woman and the attractive purple streaks in her hair. But she constantly found herself being drawn back. Whether it was the way she smiled, she moved or just the look in her eye when she caught T'Less looking at her, the Vulcan couldn't say. She was keenly aware that the Klingon, Chief MacGregor, had caught her looking at Reggie multiple times after the Betazoid had left. She'd asked if the two of them ‘had history' but T'Less had waved off the question with one of her own and Mickayla had gratefully taken the hint.
She'd stayed though. Mickayla had drifted off after a second whiskey and left T'Less nursing her own second. A third followed, then a fourth. If the drinks had been true alcohol, T'Less wondered what she would have been feeling in that moment, but the artificial nature of the fluids prevented anything but reality from affecting the Vulcan's mind. Reality and Reggie's telepathic message to her before she had left.
“Hey,” came the soft, familiar voice. “I didn’t realise you were still here.”
It was Reggie. T’Less had been so lost inside her own thoughts that she hadn’t realised that the concert had ended. Looking around, she didn’t recognise anyone from the crew. Had she really lost herself so bad that she didn’t notice when everyone left? Glancing down at the countertop, she saw the tumbler of whiskey sitting there, untouched, the ice that had been in it long since melted away. She had experimented throughout the night with the differing methods of serving the amber fluid and had found she was partial to the ‘on the rocks’ version; something for which Chief MacGregor had called her a heathen.
“I, um,” T’Less started, knowing she needed to respond but not having any idea what to say. “You suggested that we could talk a little here. But you seemed busy earlier, and I had not wanted to interrupt what appeared to be a pleasant evening.”