driftfleet | ship mingle: february is for starstruckers.

[ a gentle noise in the back of her throat -- like agreement, sing-sung and hummed. peggy so sorely wants to steady herself against his body and maybe roll onto him; lean down from above, and kiss him more soundly. but she resists (for now) and instead gleans every bit of sweetness from this moment, first. ]

Careful, you're beginning to sound all sorts of sentimental again. [ says peggy, who only moments earlier had dared to commit their partnership to words. nothing so crass as boyfriend or lovers or anything else, but instead as a term of victory. ]

Am I?

[ he is, indeed. It fact, this moment feels a little like standing on the edge of a cliff, a moment before the leap. A fraction of a minute more and this sentimentality will become overwhelming. ]

I think it might stay like this for the rest of the day.

[ -- she uses a very light touch to brush her fingers through his hair. ]

Then it's good we got the busywork out of the way already.

[ the firewood. the tent. because she can empathize with his spoken desire to stay just as they are -- with perhaps the question of stumbling into the tent revisted once the sun begins to set. ]

[ his breath catches and quickly turns into a low hum of agreement at the back of his throat. ]

Another good plan.

[ one seems to lead to the other, today and it all eventually ends right here; the two of them inches apart from one another, peggy's fingers in his hair, his ghosting along the fine line of her neck. ]

[ she smiles. it's difficult not to -- not only because of his touch, but because this feels like half-a-dozen dreams she used to have at night. perhaps not with an alien planet on the horizon or alien ground beneath them -- but instead a heathered heath in some quiet corner of england. or a on a sunny day in central park. and every dream that 'comes true' makes it a little easier to put off the urgency of returning home. after all, her career works itself out. zero matter doesn't destroy the world. what rush is there?

(she tries not to feel guilty for this onset of procrastination -- tries to tell herself they deserve this detour, still.)

peggy pulls gently on his lower lip, letting it slip free from her mouth with a little pop. ] I hope it hasn't interfered with any plans of yours.

Well -

[ but that sentence goes unfinished before it even properly began, unraveling at the seams in the wake of the tug of his lip in hers. the proximity allows the resulting shiver to be registered, just against her and right beneath her fingertips and steve nearly melts into her, covers her lips with his in a distracted, somewhat mindless kiss. it's not fast and it's not frantic but it's impatient, keen on chasing a contact that ended far too quickly. ]

I can't say I remember any of them at the moment, anyway.

[ no harm, no foul. ]

[ as moments go, this one feels decadent. these aren't kisses stolen between duties or gaps in schedules -- like back at the hotel, they're allowed to take their time with each. and perhaps this camping trip had come about because peggy had found herself chasing that same freedom. but this time, under their terms.

his impatience is well-received. peggy leans nearer, nudging into his personal space and hooking the heel of her boot behind his knee. ]

None? [ she asks with more breath than voice. ] Shame, that.

There was something.

[ his thoughts are scattered, however, ricocheting in what feels like countless directions. it's all terribly distracting; she inches a little closer and steve can count her heartbeats, steady if a little quickened. in that fraction of a moment, he's thankful for each one, every proof of how vivid and solid and alive she is. taking her head in his, his lips find her wrist, just above a pulse point. ]

Give me a minute, [ or fifteen of them ] it'll come back.

[ -- something so ridiculous as a kiss on her wrist should have made peggy roll her eyes. but instead, she shuts them. steve is attentive and his strike is nigh-surgical. and despite the sultry breeze, she shivers.

he'd kindled a fresh curiousity in her, however. ] Perhaps I can help jog your memory -- remove the distraction until you can remember.

[ and peggy oh-so-gently extracts her hand from his hold, pretending as though she was about to stand up and walk over to the tent instead. ]

[ it's amazing how easy it is, how much of an instinct it has become. She moves and swiftly, he does too. When he loops his arms around her, it's to keep her where she is but he tugs her a little closer until she's pulled flush against him. ]

Have you heard of the Dasioe?

[ it's a casual line of conversation to pursue, given the circumstances. ]

[ well. peggy realizes she should have anticipated his rebellion. steve gets his arms around her waist and pulls her near -- and although she grimaces, she also leans into his embrace. she nudges her way to his throat and tastes the side of his neck with a kiss. ]

The aliens who live underwater? [ a hum. she speaks against his skin. ] Only what the Co'kal have said. Trading partners, they moved here from elsewhere...

[ peggy trails off. she doesn't know what the aquatic species have to do with february 14th, but she's willing to entertain his train of thought. ]

Their cities are a bit run-down. They need all the help they can get. Construction on their housing and the roads -

[ he trails off for a moment, a bit distracted with her breath sliding along his skin. ]

I volunteered to help them a few days ago. Figured they needed another pair of hands and while I really didn't need the credits,

[ he shifts a little, just enough so he could reach into his jacket and then for her palm, placing a work of silver, gold and sea glass in its center. ]

Their very good at their craft.

[ his gift steals her breath away. peggy touches the charm at the end of the chain -- turning it slowly on her palm. she inches backwards, but only to provide enough space between them so she can look him properly in his eyes. ]

Steve. [ one syllable crammed with a lot of feeling. her brows twitch into a furrow -- but, after a moment, she smiles. jewellery is quite a milestone, isn't it? ] It's beautiful. Here, [ she turns away from him and pushes her curls off the back of her neck. ] Give us a hand?

They're very good with these things. Took a while to find the right one.

[ the one that felt right, that is. Elegant and classic as the one it was meant for. He smiles as she turns, shifts so he can fasten it behind her neck. ]

Here we go.

[ -- it is lovely. a little out-of-step with her trademark style, but not in a way that disappoints. the difference is welcome. and in a fleet where even things like accessories are hard to come by, she's tickled pink by the addition. peggy cards her fingers through her hair, rearranging it, before touching the pendant's stone where it settles against clavicle.

she turns back to face him. ] Now I feel a little out-gifted, darling.

No need.

[ he leans back, looks up at her, at the way the stone glistens in the sun. It was a good plan, if to judge by her smile. He reaches out, touches his fingers to her cheek. ]

This is a really good one.

[ this day, quiet and intimate as it is. ]

[ -- and she hopes it'll only get better. peggy turns her head so she can press her lips against the inside curve of his palm. it's a reaction that's become almost predictable in moments like these. she's rarely content to simply sit and be the object of his affection; often, she wants to match it or meet it or (on occasion) exceed it.

It's not done yet. [ a puff of her cheeks. ] How do you feel about a dip in the lake?

Not nearly done.

[ something he's very grateful for. Between their duties, each moment alone is appreciated to the last. He mirrors her earlier gesture, offering her his hand. It's warm and soft and comfortable -- if he ever needed help getting to his feet. ]

[ she pops to her feet. peggy grabs him by the wrist curls her fingers firmly into a grip. and she drags him with her, tugging hard. he's a largish creature, after all, and no delicate yank will do. ]

Down to your skivvies, soldier.

Yes, ma'am.

[ it's breathless and a little lost in laughter spiked by her determined grasp on his wrist. ]

Think it's very deep?

[ asked as he shrugs out of his jacket and pulling his t-shirt over his head. ]

Haven't the foggiest.

[ it might be shallow the whole way -- although she doubts so, if the deepened blue of the water after the shore's stretch is anything to judge by. peggy tosses aside her leather coat (jim gave it to her not last christmas but the christmas before; she treasures it) and starts in on the buttons of a simple cotton shirt. the fabric is stiff and less well-made than her usual stuff, but it was a tactical choice. not a fashionable one.

the same can be said for the plain camisole beneath -- and the straps of an athletic bra on her shoulders. both are standard issue from the fleet's lockers and both are about par for the course with what she wears to bed back on the starstruck. ]

Why? Are you afraid of getting in over your head? [ she teases before tossing her jacket and shirt in a heap by the tent's closest corner. ]

That already happened a long while ago.

[ though perhaps it has gotten worse, now. The lights aboard the starstruck are nothing compared to natural sunlight and if he looks at her for a moment, it's mostly because of that. ]

Found it kinda pleasing.

[ being over his head, that is. ]

[ like the cat with the canary, she hooks her finger along the new necklace's chain and adjusts it to it sits flush on her skin. but then she catches his gaze and -- really? peggy was about to crouch down and unlace her boots, but now she stands with her back to the shore and her hands on her hips.

but she's more amused than anything else. ]

Not what I meant. [ although this does provide her ample opportunity to get a good look at him under these same sunny circumstances. ]

Isn't it?

[ if he doesn't look away from her, it's the result of many nights spent together in bed. Instead, he holds her gaze when her hands move to her hips ( steve lovingly dubs this as her power pose ) and smiles. ]

Could have sworn.

[ she tears her eyes off him and loosens her laces. kicks off her boots. and from thereon in, it's merely a case of shimmying her way out of a pair of standard-issue dull and boring trousers. great for hiking; not great for much else. the grey cotton underwear beneath matches both the camisole and the athletic bra -- and as swimming costumes go, they would have to suffice. ]

Last one in has to build the fire -- [ she challenges, choosing to ignore his sarcasm. peggy turns her back on steve and starts to run for the water's edge. ]

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