Trinity

They have a Type

Ten walked up on Quaritch staring at something while they were taking a break. He didn't appear to notice her presence so she decided to stare in solidarity, following his gaze until she realized just what he was looking at.

Oh.

Yeah she was going to keep on staring. Mansk was currently lacking his signature jacket and gloves while sparring with Wainfleet. No one else was around, just the four of them. Two of them grappled with each other, and the other two grappled with their idiot brains.

At first, she thought Quaritch was watching Wainfleet. She was aware the two were closer than the others, but it became very apparent who he was actually watching. Everytime Mansk got in a solid hit, his mouth curved upward in the smallest almost imperceptible smirk possible, but it always curved more to the right so she could see it vividly from her vantage point. He looked proud.

Most of them were built, but it was Mansk and Quaritch who were bulkier, more toned and defined. Makes sense why she wasn't ever really interested in anyone back home, they apparently weren't her type. But Mansk and Quaritch?

God damn.

Sue her, they were attractive. She couldn't suppress a smirk when Mansk caught Wainfleet's arm and slammed him into the ground. He made it look absolutely effortless, but she saw how his muscles responded and reacted with trained precision.

After Lyle caught his breath, they started again with grins on their faces and Ten'etirey took the opportunity to focus in on Quaritch. He still appeared completely unaware of her presence, his focus was rapt on his machine gunner.

"Try as you might. I don't think you'll manage to eye-fuck that tank top off." She spoke softly, not wanting to interrupt the spar.

"And who says I'm eye-fucking?" He countered with a voice just as soft, but he didn't take his eyes off of the two sparring.

Maybe he had noticed her after all.

"A fellow eye-fucker." Her attention returned to Mansk. She wondered if she could get him to remove the tank top. Just to see Quaritch's reaction, maybe she wanted to see too. The thought quickly left, she wouldn't do anything to make Mansk intentionally uncomfortable.

Thinking of him without the tank top though?

Nah, she was absolutely free to do that and she would. The thin cloth left little to the imagination, he was ripped. Hell, he might be more defined than Quaritch.

"Have to thank Lyle somehow." She mused. "Got him out of that fucking jacket."

Ten was going to leave no doubt on who she was looking at. And based on the side-eye and smirk she received, he appeared to think the same thing. Looks like they both had a type.

Quaritch continued to watch Lyle and Mansk spar alongside his new 'eye-fucking' companion. He was still amazed that she turned out exactly the same. Same humor, same shit-eating grin to rival Lyle, and same blunt way of talking. Despite the distance he put between them after Ardmore's 'check in,' he still paid attention.

Mansk and Ten were close again, it was good to see them interacting together. If not a little painful. Quaritch pushed down all of those happy memories he had with her. He couldn't remember the good through all of the bad. Every memory that he wanted to hold on to, he had to ignore. No matter how hard he tried, they always led back to the loss.

Still, it was comforting to see them together. The woman he loved, alongside her closest friend and what he could never have. Another that he loved. Whether he was able to admit that to himself as a human or not, he didn't know. All he knew now was that he wanted them both and could have neither. Sure, he could probably get sex out of them. The Recoms were always horned up and Mansk was still a beacon calling out to him. Except... that's not what he wanted.

But since getting into the forest and 'living like Na'vi,' something changed. Quaritch was already dealing with the battle concerning her and the mission. Now he was contending with his brain being an absolute idiot. Every time he looked at one of them, he felt drawn to them. It wasn't just an attraction. That was definitely there, but it wasn't the main factor that drove him. He wanted them. Wanted what he couldn't have.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smirk. It wasn't just that she was smirking, no... she had this manner of smirking that was entirely her. The way her left eye crinkled slightly and her cheek dimpled, mischief behind those eyes. God, he missed her.

Eventually they returned to their travels and the mission to live like Na'vi. Well, mostly just figuring out how to survive and deal with the 'oddities' of their new bodies. But they were adapting fairly smoothly. The language was difficult but they were learning. Ten and Spider began navigating them to the Hallelujah Mountains where the banshee rookery was located.

In all honesty, he was surprised that they seemed willing to take them there.

It'll help you see.

Whatever the hell that meant. It would take another week on foot to reach them. He assumed they were keeping the Recoms away from any possible tribe interactions. Whatever kept his men safe, he was fine with.

He was less fine when he actually paid attention to the interaction they had as Mansk and Lyle sparred.

She was interested in Mansk and knew he was too.

That... potentially created another problem for him to deal with, but he was done with mentally punishing himself, at least for now.