Like Silk (Part 1)

OOC: This is a JP from Blitzen and Wanderingwolf.

Tim’s coffee was lukewarm, but the pilot was in good spirits - the liftoff had been picture-perfect if he did say so himself. He would have said so himself in fact, but Jago was armed and already cranky from the morning’s shouting match - and that was something to take into consideration.

Anikah, still clad in her slimming, suite-esque trousers, no-frills button-down-shirt, and matching black blazer, knocked gently on the bridge's open door. Beyond, she could see that Tim Casey, pilot, was reclining slightly, a tin mug of coffee to his lips. They were in the black now, and behind him, Anikah could see bright starry pins and the milky ways of space framed like a picture.

In the pregnant pause, before he tore his silhouette away from against the stars, the companion quietly marveled at his bone structure. "Beautiful," she said aloud, "no matter how many times I see it, I'm always amazed at how perfect it looks."

“Night a livin’!” Tim swore as the tan liquid sloshed in his cup. Recovering from the startle, he set the mug down and hastily ran a hand through his perpetually unruly hair. ‘Ma’am,” he apologized with a smile. “Jago usually announces his presence, and I surprisingly do not get a lotta visitors, which is a cryin’ shame, especially if they are as pretty as you.”

"With that view? I'm certainly surprised to hear that. I'd be up here all the time, just to watch." The companion flashed a coy smile, approaching the console. "Seems this is the best view from the whole ship."

She faced Tim, "I could cough or something next time, if that makes you feel better," she pointed to his dripping coffee cup.

“I don’t so much mind,” he chuckled. “But I warn you, I have bad jump reflexes and my responses aren’t always so polite. Good news is - I’m not armed. Take a seat?” He asked, shoving a pile of papers and an old black stuffed bear off the co-pilot chair.

Anikah's eyed his pristine, tousled hair, then nodded. Slipping into the chair, she dipped to scoop up the black stuffed bear. One ear had been chewed on, stuffing protruding, and it's dull black eyes had started to recede into its worn folds. She held it up, "This one yours?" a gentle smirk played at the edges of her cheek. She tucked it between both arms on her lap.

"I hear the captain's armed, from the fun he had on the intercom." Her face was relaxed, her tone playful.

“Passenger’s kid or somethin’ left it behind,” he chuckled. “And when I brought up the notion of a co-pilot, that’s what I got in return. The man does have a sense of humor - if you look for it. But enough about me and my bear - all okay with your accommodations so far? I have some pull with the crew if you need anything.”

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