The Slain Beasts Tavern
New Earth Colony, Gaia
Stardate: 2159
Ren Richards couldn't believe it. Twenty one years old and she thought she had everything together and yet here she was, sitting at the Beasts, bemoaning the fact that her best friend in the world was going to be a wife for some schmuck who wants to raise ostriches. Kate had gotten her through her first year with the corps without quitting. Not only did the woman teach her how to stand up for herself, Ren had learned to tap into her strength and hold her on against a predominantly male domain that was the MACOS.
It had been an 'us against them' relationship and now that Kate was gone, Ren felt strangely vulnerable.
"Another one please?" She asked Fabien for another bottle. She already put away three empties.
Looking around, she saw no one she knew and certainly no one she'd join. At least, none that want the company of the 'girl' in the squad. Turning back to her bottle, she resolved to get drunk by herself if necessary.
******
Tom and the Enterprise were out somewhere doing things for the greater good of mankind and that left one Derick Rickman alone, doing things for the greater good of Derickkind. He'd come to the Beast's with the notion that something roughly 36C and blonde would suit his mission but no such luck. The barflies... most of them anyway... stayed away from the Beasts when the ships were out.
Unfortunately, the barflies were about the only girls Derick wanted. Quick and gone in the morning. The best kind. And blondes were a far cry from a certain raven-haired balls-to-the-wall woman seven years his senior (good god) that was so far out of his reach, Derick might as well reach for Gaia's moons. Entering the establishment, he made his way to the bar in time to catch the bottle Fabien brought out for him. Taking a sip, he spotted Richards at the end of the bar, nursing her own beer and looking... well, strange.
"Richards..." he said, moving to take the stool next to her.
Eyes narrowed as she heard him, Ren stared at Sgt. Rickman, the one person in her world that seemed to engender both hatred and attraction all at once. He looked so much like David it made her spit and then on other occasions, he looked so much like the guy she wanted to drag him off somewhere and do him. Okay, maybe not quite do him but something physical definitely. "Sarge," she offered an enigmatic smile as she tried to decide which extreme she would chose today. Hate or like? Hate was too much work, so she went the other way. "How you doing?" She asked.
"Fine..." Derick replied, a smirk crossing his features as he indicated her bottle. "You?" She was a funny one. Most women liked him or hated him... they almost never fluctuated between the two, like Richards did.
"Every one of them," she winked. "I'm trying to build a fort. That's the left wall." Stupid ass smile.
Derick grinned back. "I can probably help you," he chuckled, holding his bottle out to clink it against hers. "So is this what your plan is? Sit back and get drunk?"
"Until something better comes along," she raked green eyes over him. He was very disposal. She could sleep with him and he wouldn't care. She'd been one of those girls he was happy to forget in the morning. Oddly enough this was good for Ren too.
He didn't miss the look. More vicious women than Ren had given him the same look and they'd folded too. But Richards... was kind of like the sister he'd never had. They got along so well rumours popped up every few months but he hadn't mentioned them. "I hear your buddy's getting married."
"Yeah," Ren broke the stare then and returned to her drink. "Good luck to her." There was such dry cynicism in her voice Ren was surprised herself by how bitter she sounded.
"You don't sound happy?" Derick replied, not recognizing just how... grown up he sounded. Tom would think someone had made off with his best mate and replaced the Martian Colony brat with a clone. Still, those were some incredible eyes she had... maybe that was it. Richards was so damn beautiful that she was up there on a pedestal with the Major. The unobtainable pedestals for an urban punk like him.
"Oh I'm happy for her," Ren said lifting the bottle to her lips and taking another decent swig. "Just didn't think she was the kind to give it all up for a man. He's nice enough for ostrich farming? After what we've been doing. She'll be bored in a month, pregnant in six, fully domesticated in a year. Shame." Oh hell Ren, she thought to herself. "But enough about that," she swivelled her stool in his direction and leaned back into the counter, watching him. Green eyes drinking in the sight, so much like David but not. Decent. Even when he was banging women left right and centre, he wasn't the one who lied; it was them who allowed themselves to be deceived. Silly women who didn't read through the lines.
Smiling at her, because he recognized that look, Derick shrugged. "I have to admit I didn't see Kate getting married... let alone to a guy who breeds Big Birds," he joked. "MACO's will miss her, that's for sure."
"They will," she agreed, not saying specifically that herself even though she would, "but not as much as she'll miss us. So," she looked around, "you meeting anyone here tonight Sarge?"
Subtle as a brick. "Nah..." Derick replied, swigging his beer. "Cap'n's away and Avery is getting domesticated," he chuckled, fixing her with an amused look. "Why? You?" Of course, she was one of the few women that remained in close contact with Derick Rickman that had not visited his bed. Did he want to change that? For once, Derick couldn't decide.
"Nope," she said pushing herself forward a little, closing the distance. Four beers were working their magic now. "All by myself lonesome." She smiled slyly and tracing an invisible line from his stomach to his chest, in one butterfly movement.
One eyebrow went up, blue-green eyes studying Ren with a predator's critique. Only she was drunk... and he had to work with her. "Lonesome?" Derick countered, ignoring her hand. There was a war in his head, something of a surreal angel/devil bickering only Derick couldn't tell which was the angel and which was the devil. His libido, knowing just how toned those long legs of Richard's were, was arguing for the flirt, for the game, the chase.
Countering that, was a tiny Tom Merrick at about 50% of his most blistering, cockney'd speech. If he bloody shagged Richards, he was going to bloody pay if he hurt her...
The internal conversation was disturbing and Derick retreated to his beer for the moment.
"Come on Sarge," she noted his departure. "This is a one time offer. Hell I wouldn't even care if you didn't call me in the morning. In fact I'd insist on it. I want to see what the girls are taking about, at least once." She winked. "Remember, MACO chicks are muscles in places you can't imagine. We'd ride you until you popped like warm champagne."
Popped like warm champagne? Derick cast Ren a dubious look. "Be like fucking my sister..." he said before the brain had fully engaged. Clearing his throat, he cast her an apologetic look. "Look..." He leaned in a bit. "You're hot, Richards. Very... very hot... but... I can't. I like you..."
"What's that got to do with it?" She looked at him, really surprised that meant anything. Pushing back into her seat, she swung around back to the counter. "Fabien. How about shots. Let's do tequila."
Rolling his eyes, Derick nodded to Fabien and tried to explain. "Look. Richards. I know how I am... I don't want anything long term... and I like you. I can't do that to you."
Laughing because she hadn't invited him to join her, Ren looked at him. "And do you think I might want you long term. That will never EVER happen." There was granite conviction in her eyes. "I want to fuck you not have a relationship."
"Right." Derick had heard that one before. "Look, as much as that's really sounding good... I can't. I work with you. I respect you. You're tough. Most of the women I'm with... aren't."
"Sokay," the shot arrived in time Ren thought. Without waiting for him. She slammed it back. "You're slacking." She winked. "Is a bad idea. You look too much like him and I might end up slitting your throat in the middle of the night when I sober up."
Him. The guy that, if Derick was given the opportunity, he'd beat the living shit out of. No, he'd let Richards have her shot and then he'd give it a go. "Slacking... shit..." Slamming back his own shot, he turned the small glass upside down and set it in front of her. "Alright, Orphan Annie... You're on..."
She looked at him for a long moment, "I think," she said with a little smile, affection creeping she didn't intend and probably would forget in the morning. "I like you better this way."
"So do I," Derick replied, clinking his shot glass against hers with an affectionate smile he wouldn't forget come morning. He'd never be able to explain it. Ren Richards... he'd seen her cry, scream... he'd driven her to the point of breaking and from there, he'd built her back up again and now... she was family.
Yep. Like a little sister he never had...one he'd die for.
That was it...Richards was too much like family to become one of his conquests.