Coffee And Trousers

"Coffee and Trousers"

Who: Logan, Hands, Kate, Joanna, Archer, Foster & Mr. Pearce
When: May 1940 (RL Date: June 5, 2008)
Where: Galley, HMS Viperous

What: The crew downs morning coffee and jaws, happily for the most part, about new uniform policies. Training exercises are discussed.


HMS Viperous-----> > > > > THE GREATEST GENERATION < < <

This is the Spartan galley, or kitchen of the ship. The meals for the crew and officers of the vessel are prepared in this cramped, small space fitted with small gas stoves and rows of cupboards. Shelves of food and spices have been installed into the walls, complete with railings to prevent things from the contents from them in rough weather, and kettles and mugs hang from hooks under them. There are only a few small flat spaces here for actual food preparation, and no room for dining. Those flat spaces get used by the ships doctor as needed in battle, as well. Nice!

It is currently daytime.

The sea around you is a glassy calm.


Radio room <RR> Forward crew space <FCS>
Aft crew space <ACS>

Joanna arrives from the Forward crew space.

Logan takes a sip of his coffee as he rubs his eyes, "Lads…" Obviously referencing the Mr. Kate asks, "Do I snore?"

Hands looks to logan, "Like a freight train."

Kate lofts a brow to Logan and just shakes her head, "if you do, it mixes with all the others. I dinnae know how any of us are goin' tae sleep on this thing." Kate admits with a tired half laugh, leaning protectively over her bitter coffee.

Logan glances over to Joanna, "Ave a seat lass." He looks back over to Kate, "You and I both grew up near shipyard so it's kind of easy to get sleep."

Kate nods in affirmation, "Aye… but it's a wee bit different when yer a buildin' away than bein' right next to it. Bah, ye get tired enough we should just pass out when we need. It's the wakin' up which is hard."

Joanna makes her way into the galley, her stride quick and long. She's already traded her Wren skirts in for trousers, as per the captain's orders, and looks happier for it. She has to slow when she gets into the galley proper, though, to slip about the cramped space. She picks a mug off a hook, heading over to get herself a cup of coffee.

Kate turns her head as she sees the other Wren, lofting a brow as she sees the woman's pants but smiling in approval, "Seems someone got some sense in their heads about things." Kate's drowsy, husky voice quips tiredly in Joanna's direction.

Logan takes another few sips of his coffee and looks at Kate, "Have you gotten me back in my sleep? Or maybe while I was showering? I know how sneaky you can be Katey." It might just be the large soldiers uninquisitive personality that keeps him from noticing things though.

"Captain Foster's orders," Joanna replies simply, though a smile pulls at her lips as she says it. "All WRNS personnel are to wear the 'modified' version of their uniform while on duty. And one must follow orders to the letter." She leaves it at that, but there's a very happy light in her blue eyes. She gets her coffee poured, sipping at it so she can adjust to the taste of the sludge before chugging it down.

Kate gives an innocent, quiet little whistle as Logan asks about the revenge she is getting. "Who knows, Logan… we shall see. When ye least expect it." Kate grins widely before she looks back to Joanna and nods in relief, "Aye… well, good orders, I must say. I will happily follow them."

Logan changes his usually happy-go-lucky resolve to a more sort of frightened one, "What ye mean Katey?"

Joanna strides over to join Kate and Logan, now that she's armed with caffeine. "I'll need to take a needle to mine tonight, I think. My CO in Portsmouth was *quite* firm about maintaining a *ladylike* appearance while on duty, so I haven't worn them in ages. But it's nothing a few quick alterations won't fix." She tilts her head at Logan, curious at the nerves in his tone.

Kate laughs and nods, looking down to the pants which are belted around her hips and STILL nearly falling off. The cuffs look to be triple or quadruple rolled. They just don't make clothing for someone this short in the military, really. "Aye…I might have tae do the same, but I figure I'll end up rippin' em so many times in the ducts that the stitches alone'll make'em smaller." Kate gives nothing to Logan but a simple, innocent smile, before adding. "I shall not get revenge if ye dae not bring up me father again this trip."

Joanna arches an eyebrow at the pair of them as they banter. "You two sound like old friends," she observes, before downing some more of her coffee. She's numbed her tongue enough with the first sips of it that she can take deeper gulps now.

Logan glances up at Joanna, wrapping one of his large arms around Kate's small figure, "Aye we be the best of friends. We worked together before we joined."

Kate doesn't actually pull away from that grasp, but she leans in comfortably, the sight of a girl in her big brother's arms — literally more than age wise as he's almost double her size. "Aye… ship yards at Belfast.. we worked'em taegether most of our lives. Me dad hired him… years ago now."

Logan says "I left bout five years 'fore Katey did."

Joanna nods, smiling a little at the pair of them. "That must be nice, coming aboard with a friend. Ships like these become very tight-knit. Almost like a family, the way my father tells us." Something she sounds a little nervous about. Well, she's a newcomer, and not fully integrated into the family yet. "Your father was a shipbuilder, then?" she asks Kate, seeming interested in this.

Logan pulls his arm back and takes a few sips of his coffee letting them have their conversation.

Kate nods in affirmation to Joanna's words, "Aye, worked fer Harland and Wolff baefer I was born, and I was his only child sae I got pulled along once I was old enough. Though I like the new things… radios, electricity… the RADAR. Guess I baen focusin' on learning the stuff the dinosaurs at the yard won't… got me called out here. I think it's a good thin', even if he bae worryin' and sickin' the dogs on me for it." She glares teasingly in Logan's direction.

Logan glances back at her, "I'm actually the one who's sposed to be protecting ye from the dogs."

Logan feels a slight draft, "Should I be putting on me trousers? I mean I know ye ladies are enjoying the view and all but it's a little bit chilly."

"The radar is quite remarkable, isn't it?" Joanna says, her enthusiasm firing as the subject is mentioned. "When I joined up I figured I'd be doing wireless work mainly, but I was lucky enough to get into radar training when the Navy started pushing it. It's positively astounding the things you can tell from that little screen…" She trails off, noticing Logan's draft for her first time. She clears her throat, her cheeks coloring a little, and fixes her eyes firmly up and away from any un-uniformed part of him.

Kate looks down, giving Logan a few, long gaze before smirking and waving it off, "Ain't naething I ain't seen before, but the lady here might… Oo, look at that colour! I think she likes ye, Logan. Ye should put on your proper clothes and ask her out, we're all on a cruise after all!" She teases them lightly, taking another sip of her stale coffee as she nods to Joanna, "Aye…'tis a miracle piece of machine, but the electric work on it might be interesting to maintain with water all around. Will be a challenge."

Logan stands up and stretches a bit before heading off to the crew quarters, ducking under the doorways.

Logan heads off Aft crew space.
Logan arrives from the Aft crew space.

Logan walks in after quickly throwing on his trousers and button-up shirt.

Joanna glares, her gaze still fixed on a point away from Logan and Kate, but she looks as if she'd like to glare at them. "I think not," she replies shortly, and rather tersely, to Kate. "I don't intend to fraternize in *that* sort of way with any of the crew and I'd advise you take the same attitude, Warrant Officer." She nods a little as Logan returns fully dressed. Well, that's all right and proper.

Logan laughs at Kate and takes a seat beside her, "You got in trouble…" He rwalks over and pours himself another cup of coffee and takes a few sips.

Archer arrives from the Radio room.

Logan looks at the tall man, hiding his taller stature as he slouches in his seat. He offers a slight nod to the man, "Have a seat soldier."

Taller than average, with the oft-stooped posture to prove it. Fit in build, he has the solid muscle of an athlete; a strong jaw and broad chin are slightly spoiled by gaunt cheeks over shallow cheekbones. Narrow eyes stare out above a wide nose, and brown hair is cropped short above a high forehead, his attire being that of a naval crewman.

Kate rolls her eyes at Logan and punches him lightly in the shoulder, "Aye, like I'd be flirtin' with ye. that's like sleepin' with me brother and that's just… Eew. Put me off my coffee, will ya?" She sticks her tongue out at him before looking back to Joanna and simply giving an innocent little smile.

Foster arrives from the Aft crew space.

Archer steps into the galley from the Radio room, taking a moment to stretch his back after escaping the cramped station at the end fo his shift. "Free of the ball and chain for a bit longer," he comments half to himself, before looking up at the others and giving a small smile and brief greeting. He settles into the offered chair with a nod of thanks.

Logan stands up as the captain enters and snaps into a salute.

Joanna shakes her head dismissively at Logan's remark. "Nothing of the kind. It just makes it easier to get work done if certain formalities are observed. Anyhow, I'm certain it was just a joke, Warrant Officer McConnell." She seems eager to drop the matter, downing more of her coffee. Archer's entrance, and comment, draw a curious look. But she puts any further scrutiny of him on hold to straighten and salute Foster. Making sure to set her coffee cup down before she does so, so she's in no danger of flinging it about.

Kate stands up as she hears the call of Foster being on deck, suddenly snapping into attention and a salute herself, she's just moving rather sore and slow this morning. She'll get used to being on ship, it'll just take time.

Archer grunts under his breath as his relief in sinking into a chair is put on hiatus as the captain enters. Rising promptly to his feet, he offers a crisp salute.

Foster steps into the galley from the Aft Magazine, strangely enough able to climb through the hatch without getting any of the machine goo on that uniform of his. "As you were" he commands, then quietly moves over toward the coffee pot.

Logan takes his seat and pulls Kates back sneakily.

Mr.Pearce arrives from the Radio room.

Joanna relaxes. As much as she was relaxed before, that is. It seems the woman rarely unstiffens too much. "Captain Foster, good morning," she offers to him simply in greeting. She's already traded in her Wren uniform skirt for trousers but she doesn't remark on the policy change.

"No it's not." Foster quips, then pours himself a cup of the thrice-brewed coffee. He lifts the mug to his nose, closes his eyes, and takes a slow, deep breath, pulling that aroma of baked java into his nostrils. After a moment he opens his eyes, and the formerly muted expression is now noticably more awake. "Now, maybe it can be. But certainly not before coffee."

Kate relaxes as ordered, and she sinks her bare armed self back down into a chair at the table. She too has the smallest pair of pants she cuold find, which are still long on her, but they're working at least. She's wearing an undershirt otherwise and looks clean, for once. It won't last. She sinks there and takes a deep sip of her coffe.

The door handle gently, gently turns, and Mr.Pearce slips in. With his eyes down and lips moving - muttering to himself inaudibly - he sidles along one of the walls of the kitchen towards the storage spaces at the back.

Archer settles back into his seat with a low repeat of his relieved out-breath. "Were sailors so much shorter back in the Great war?" he wonders dryly of the table at large.

Logan glances at Kate, "I think they brought you the trousers of my twin, he chuckles at the large trousers on her.

Joanna drinks to that. More coffee, rather. She's nearly drained her first cup by now, the taste more palatable the further one gets into the cup. She does not notice Pearce's interest, so his creeping is at least partially successful. Archer commands her attention currently, anyhow. "Pardon me. You're Lieutenant…Archer, isn't it?" She's just transferred about and is still putting names to faces.

"Sailors were, yes. Height requirement for the older ships." Foster comments dryly, then takes a sip of his coffee. The scalding brew slides down his throat and he chuckles quietly at his own joke. "No, I'll see if we can get some of the appropriate size in ship's stores before we leave port." He turns to look toward the others, for the moment allowing himself some time to acclimate himself to the others around him. Mr. Pearce is not unnoticed, but watching the man overtly would draw too much attention, so for now, the occasional glance is all the engineer is given.

Logan stands up slowly, he sets his coffee cup on the table and stretches, letting out a groan. He glances around, "I suppose I'll go continue getting ready." He turns around and rambles over to his quarters.

Logan heads off Aft crew space.

Kate turns her head towards Pearce as he comes aboard and she gives him a half smile, "Hey, boss. Engine still next to falling apart as usual, boss?" It's becoming a joke already, his eternal pessimism and Kate's ever cherry fix it up nature.

There are a great many things that Mr.Pearce doesn't notice or pay attention to, and Logan's sneer is happily one of them. He slips further into the galley, dodging nimbly around the lot of you without looking up or acknowledging your presence. He finally reaches the canned food cupboard, starting to neatly unload its contents onto the table. Mr.Pearce gives a little jump as Kate adresses him, his hands shaking as he shoots a sidelong glance at her. He frowns, "No, Mr.McConnell, I believe the engine was in as good a shape as can be expected." Tone: not very good. "I see that you have acquired some pants. Good show, man."

Archer regards Joanna as the other speaks to him. He nods once, answering, "Yes, I'm archer. Jeremy Archer, Sonar and communications. I know we're all new aboard, but I don't recognize you.." he leaves the words off while looking for some rank insignia. He gives a token chuckle at the 'midget' line from Foster, before adding, "Well if sailors were shorter, then the radio room was built for pixies, sir."

Joanna nods to Archer. "Hardly expected you to. I barely got my transfer in order a fortnight ago. Midshipman Joanna Starling. Radar and radio operations." She extends a hand for him to shake.

"You're a sonar man, if I've heard correctly?" Joanna asks. Pearce receives a look. A faint smile pulls at her lips at his remark about the pants, but she stifles it promptly into a more prim expression.

Kate deadpans in Pearce's direction, "Yes, yes. I enjoyed walking around in just my knickers but… I suppose it wasn't a gentlemanly thing tae be doin', so I found some pants." Kate admits, barely keeping the chuckle out of her voice even as there is an amused glimmer in her eyes. "And good, good about the engine. We'll keep it going for a few months at this rate!"

"We'll find out soon enough." Foster answers, taking a sip of his coffee. "We're taking her out into the bay for practice tomorrow."

Archer nods to Joanna, "You heard correctly, ma'am." He catches himself and amends, "That is, Midshipman." He takes the hand and gives it a solid shake. "Which means you'll be wedged into the Radio room along with me, more often than not. My sympathies." Foster's comment catches his attention quickly. "Maneuvers, Captain? Do we have the hour, yet?"

Mr.Pearce boggles at Kate. The knickers bit passes over his mental radar without scoring a blip. "Well, it should be good for at /least/ half a year, Mr.McConnell. That is, unless the cooler's break. Fragile things, engine coolers." Mr.PEarce, on the other hand, looks like something that has evolved specifically for ship quarters: short, thin, and wiry.

Kate is an odd compliment to Pearce, because she too is made for crawling around ships… but in the way a monkey is made for swinging through trees. Tiny, lithe and dexterous, made for bending around small corners and fitting through minute vents. "Ahh, smile, Mr. Pearce. It's a lovely day.. and I am jokin'. This ship is good for a few years, specially with snipes like us aboard!"

Joanna does not even blink at the 'ma'am', though she nods a little when Archer corrects it with her rank. She shakes his hand back solidly. Perhaps more firmly than necessary. She seems to have honed her grip to as mannish a one as she can manage. "I'm quite looking forward to it. I'm rather impressed a ship of this class is able to handle the modern equipment." Her eyes widen, and brighten, when Foster mentions upcoming maneuvers. She turns to regard him with her full attention.

Mr. Pearce is a shrivelled little man with an unfortunately large head, wispy (prematurely) grey hair, and uninspiring features. His lower lids droop low, and his thin lips are permanently set into a resigned frown. He has thin, bony limbs, but despite his small stature, looks wiry and agile. His watery blue eyes squint from behind thick spectacles.

Mr.Pearce usually wears blue overalls and a navy blue beanie, carrying a briefcase with his mechanical equipment with him wherever he goes. Despite his dirty line of work, his "uniform" is generally clean. He has clearly used it for quite a while, as the elbows and knees are worn and patched.

Foster shakes his head quickly. "We do know they are tomorrow, and that we leave drydock at noon, but we're not breaking port." A pause. "I figure it's time to find out what the girl can do."

Mr.Pearce shakes his head sadly. "Sorry to hear it, Mr.McConnell. Direct sunshine gives me a rash something terrible." He glances from Joanna to Foster. To the captain's comments, he adds, "Quite, sir. It's a fine ship. If we fight the Great War again, we'll be sure to win." It's hard to detach any possible sarcasm from his generally gloomy pessimism.

Archer nods once to Foster's reply. Tomorrow. Glancing back at the new Radar hand, "We'll see how it handles. Wiring might not hold up, with all the new equipment aboard. Still, thats what maneuvers are for, aye?" Pearce's comment draws a small dry smile to his face. "Come now, Mr. Pearce, there never was a german afloat that was a match for any englishman. This is just our way of keeping things sporting."

Kate stands up suddenly, seizing her coffee mug and raising it into the air, "Aye! She is a fine ship and we will win this bloody war! Tae the Viperous!" And she lofts her mug all the way, as if toasting with booze. The Irish woman has too much energy now that coffee is in her.

"Excellent," Joanna says, unable to contain to quick exclamation at the captain's words. She clears her throat, adding nothing more, seeming not to have meant to have spoken at all. Mr. Pearce's comment, and its dour sarcasm, draws a look of some surprise. Not that she argues the point, in the middle of the claustrophobic galley/medical clearing house/God-knows-what-else on the WWI-era hunk of steel. Still, she lifts her mug readily enough for Kate's toast. "Hear, hear. Quite."

"Quite, Mr.Archer. I remember that I was on board the HMS Calypso when she was knocked down by a stiff breeze. Terrible things, sea winds." Mr.Pearce seems to look even more shrivelled and gloomy with all the optimism pouring forth. He nods to Foster, muttering, "Good evening, Mr.Foster. Gentlemen." He scuttles for the door.

Foster chuckles quietly. "Well of course, Mr. Pearce… then you'd have nothing to fix, and we certainly don't want -that-." When Mr. Pearce finds the things he's looking for and moves away from the group, Foster tips his hat to the man, lifting the mug. "I can drink to that."

"Mr. Pearce," Archer offers in parting. He reaches across the table to snag the departed Logan's cup, eyeing the contents dubiously, before raising it for the offered toast, and taking a drink. "Good show."

Foster takes a sip of his coffee then, and moves over toward where the other officers stand. He takes a moment to look both Joanna and Kate over before shrugging. "So, your thoughts on the new uniform policy?"

Kate looks up to Foster and nods almost immediately, "I think it's goin' tae be most conducive to work, sir. Frankly, I could nae really do the job in a skirt. And… isn't it just temptin' the boys, showin' off our legs like that?" Kate inquires with a wiry little smile.

Joanna drinks, watching Mr. Pearce scuttle away over the rim of her mug. Her eyes narrowed with that same look of vague curiosity. She does not miss him calling them all 'Gentlemen' but it's only met with the faintest of smiles. Quite so. "Who is that…chipper fellow?" she asks. Was that a joke? Her deadpan tone makes it difficult to tell, but perhaps she's had enough coffee to unwind another (small) notch. As for the new policy, she tries not to grin too much as she answers. "Seems quite sensible, sir. Skirts are fine mincing about a shore office but they're rather impractical here, what with all the ladders and the speed we need to move at around the ship." Kate's comment about 'show' off our legs' earns the mechanic a pointed look. Joanna clears her throat primly. "And it does seem prudent to keep reminders of certain…differences…minimal."

Archer settles back in his seat, content to let the women answer the captain's inquiry, taking a second, deeper drink of the cooling coffee. His expression hints at restrained amusement, but offers nothing aloud.

Foster shrugs somewhat noncommittally. "Actually it's just because it's easier to see your legs." An impish grin colors his features, and he quickly shakes his head, finishing off with a chuckle. "The differences minimal was my goal. I've actually considered taking up Mr. Pearce's particular quirk."

Kate tilts her head to Foster, though she almost looks scared. "I don't think I could stand two men being dismally depressed on ship all the time, especially not the captain!" Kate exclaims with a half laugh, definitely more awake on her second cup of coffee.

"I think the captain meant referring to all crewmen and women as 'gentlemen', McConnel," Archer interjects bemused, before adding aside to Joanna, "Mister Pearce is the ship's mechanic, Midshipman. In addition to serving as morale officer."

Joanna nods firmly at Foster, though she looks a little puzzled at his comment about Pearce. "Particular quirk?" she asks, somewhat warily. Mind perhaps going over what possible quirks the pessimistic little engineer might possess. When Archer clarifies she nods and lets out an, "Ah." She allows herself a chuckle at his calling Pearce 'morale officer.' "I can't say I'd mind. Quite preferable to 'Little Miss'."

Foster just shakes his head at the mention of 'Little Miss', then takes a slow sip of his coffee before he comments. "The last thing I need is half of the sailors on this boat fighting over which one of them they think you smiled at." The last bit was said with a slight tremor of fatigue, as if reliving past wearying events.

Kate chuckles quietly, thoughtfully over her coffee.."Aye, it might be wise… everyone is mister, everyone is gentleman. If only I thought that Pearce… actually was just ignoring it. I'd feel better if I thought he was aware and yet… I think somewhere in his mind, it's just safer to completely, consciously be unaware that there are any of the opposite sex on ship. Ah well… I'm tiny, I fit places, I won't complain."

Archer raises both brows slightly at the captain's wearied mannerisms. "Hell, crew on the ship less than a week and already its starting? Captain Foster, maybe the problem isnt the women aboard- maybe the problem is the Irish?" Expression slips into a dry smile at the words.

"I assure you, sir, I have no intention of smiling at anyone or anything!" Joanna promises Foster earnestly. It takes her a second to realize that didn't sound quite as she intended. Another clearing of her throat. "What I mean, sir, is that I'm sure the Warrant Officer and I are well aware of the irregularites of the situation and will conduct ourselves with the utmost decorum." She gives Kate a firm look, as if impressing upon her the evils of smiling.

Foster just shakes his head once more, clearing his throat to clear away the confusion. "I didn't say you'd try to do it… but I know how the boys can be." The mention of the Irish, on the other hand, causes him to glance at Archer, and give the man a long glance. "I'd never say something like that. On the other hand, I seriously doubt we'll have too many more problems of that nature in the future."

Kate shoots a look over her shoulder, staring at Archer for a few moments as she smirks deeply, "Ye keep that up and I'll give he a knuckle sandwich just as soon as I serve one up tae that lowlander in sickbay." Kate hasn't actually thrown a punch yet, but there is that senseless hate in her voice and too much Irish pride which says she probably will one of these days. At least she'll get it out of her system. She then smirks at Joanna, "And I think that's the same lesson my boss is tryin' tae teach me."

"glad to hear it, sir," Archer replies to foster's word that 'more problems of that nature' are unlikely. When Kate offers her own colorful reply, Jeremy simply returns a smile and lets the words pass uncommented upon. Joanna, as the last of the people present NOT giving him a long look gets a brief glance at her own thoroughly efficient speech.

Joanna's English upperlip stiffens at the talk of the Irish, though she looks more puzzled than anything else at any wind of trouble. "We're all Royal Navy volunteers, sir," she says simply. "If one gets ruffled sailing under the Empire's Union Jack, one can always try swimming, as my father used to say."

Foster chuckles, hiding some of his smile into his cup. "Mmhmm. I think I remember a Captain of mine once that had it tattooed on his arm." He moves over to one of the Galley tables and slides into place at one of the tables. A strange sight to most, to say the least. "But, a lesson that some of the younger volunteers might need to learn the hard way."

As Kate isn't chided for the possible threats she's giving, well, she relaxes back and stretches out in her seat, nearly finished with her second cup of coffee.."Almost time to go work."

Archer chuckles quietly and briefly at Joanna's bit of wisdom. "'Try swimming', very good." The last of his coffee is downed, and the tallish sailor moves again to hsi feet to get another drink.

Joanna has only finished her first cup but she seems in agreement with Kate. "Yes, I should be getting to the radio room myself. I'm still getting a feel of the place. Besides, I find if I drink too much of that stuff it jangles my nerves."

Foster gives Joanna a quick nod, "Good morning, Midshipman." His own coffee is downed, and he stands to move toward the coffee pot once more. "That's why this pot is always the best. The weak stuff just fills your belly, and doesn't do any good."

Kate finishes off her coffee with a good, deep gulp, unfolding from her chair and stretching her sore limbs out. She twists her body almost completely around in the dexterousness of a gynmast, but then that's what she's good for on this ship. Her back pops audibly in a few places. "Damn… that's better. This ship is bloody smaller than a mouse's dick in some places."

Archer notes to Joanna, "Best thing about the Radio room: you can get a feel for the whole room in one handful." Adding a moment later, "Still, wait a moment and I'll come along. A few quirks aboard the old girl that newer ships don't worry about." Glancing back to the others he wishes Foister, "Luck on that pot, Captain. McConnel," Foster gets a salute, and the crazy little mechanic gets a short nod.

Joanna offers Kate a nods as well. She doesn't seem particularly shocked by the mechanic's last comment, but it does make her purse her lips. She salutes Foster, before putting up her mug. "Certainly, Mr. Archer. Most of my work has been with on-shore systems thus far, so the benefit of your experience would be most appreciated. I'll see you later, McConnell. And captain…again, I much approve of the dress code modifications."

Foster actually smirks at the mention of the pot, holding up his now empty cup in a form of salute before turning around to lean against the table. Joanna's approval is met with the tip of a hat, and he moves over toward the coffee pot for a refill, allowing the junior officers time to acclimate themselves to their stations.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 License.