cast your shadow in flame

stay up

No sooner had Talib filled her glass than Cornix had it to her lips.  She drained it in steady gulps.   Setting it down, she sighed.  Wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.   Her grey eyes went from the empty glass to Talib.

"Another."

"I need to catch up."  He lifted his glass.  The smell—pungent, sharp—hit him, and he winced, shaking his head.  "This drink—"

"Ouzo."

The bottle was wet, gleaming in the blue tint of the overhead light.   She grabbed for it, but it slipped through her fingers.   As it tipped, he caught it. A scowl curled her lip and narrowed her eyes.  They glanced away.   He refilled her glass, and she drained it again then leaned back into her seat.

"You drink it like it's water."

She grinned.  "Aqua vitae."

"Maybe if you're a drunk."

"Then I'd be in good company."

"Surprised sometimes Dorea lets you drink with me."

"Lets me?   The fuck does that mean?"

"She's the captain—"

"And I'm the XO—another."

He smiled.   "Yessir."

Leaning over, draping herself half over the table, she watched him.  He refilled her glass then struggled to choke down half of his own.  Every bit of it burned every bit of the way down.  Burned and coated his insides with the bitter taste of anise.   Shaking his head, he reached for his other glass.   Water helped.  A bit, anyway.   As he set down the glass, he realized she was still staring.

"Something on your mind?"

She grinned.  "Keep thinking about you naked."

"No wonder you've got that look on your face."

She kicked at him.  Her boot scuffed his shinguard, and he smiled.  She shook her head.

"You aren't ready for me."

"That a challenge?"

"Probably so."

"Better stop drinking then."

She laughed.   "Bit late.  Can you even feel your legs?"

"Pretty well numb from the waist down."   He shrugged.  "Mouth seems to be working fine."

She sat up to give his arm a punch. He winced, and she laughed again, slumping back.  Then she looked away, went away.  Her eyes had lost their focus.

"If you wanna talk," he began to say, but she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Usually you know when to shut the fuck up.  That's what I like about you, El-Amin."

Nodding, he lifted the bottle.  "Another?"

"You finish it.   I'll get another bottle."

The commander left the mess, left Talib alone.  He struggled through the last half of his glass then the last of the bottle.  Staring at the darkened entry hall, he sipped at his water.   How much more ouzo could he stomach before retching?  The question troubled him, but his mind was on Cornix.

she'd invited him for drinks.  which, for her, meant ringing up his comm.  he'd been in his bunk, and she'd whistled at the sight of his bare chest.  then she waved a bottle at the comm and said "mess."  the comm beeped a blue call end and faded into the dark of the room.
she beat him there.   she always did.   he'd come in, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. she'd be filling her glass. and there was always one waiting for him.  two, if she brought ouzo.   so he'd known what he was getting himself into when he sat down.
he liked that about her.