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| - Kestrel's Apartment - This small apartment is sparsely furnished, tending more toward function rather than any real semblance of comfort or appearance. Two tiny bedrooms, if one can call them that, adjoin the main room. It actually looks as if someone simply walled off part of the original space for them, though at least it can be said that they did a halfway decent job. Instead of doors, heavy curtains in a dusty, faded dark green have been hung in both doorways. The only actual door in the place aside from the main entrance leads to a cramped bathroom. A battered card table and folding chairs sit pretty much snug up against a small kitchenette, while a workbench that's seen better days sits off in a corner. A nondescript couch that might have been orange at some point in its life occupies the middle of the room, with a makeshift coffee table made of cinderblocks and heavy boards in front of it. Next to the workbench, more bricks and boards make up a set of shelves. Kestrel sits at her workbench, tinkering with gun bits. It looks like they actually, you know, make a completed gun, rather than being just a collection of random parts. Her boots have been left in the middle of the floor, and her jacket's across the back of her chair. Other than her, the apartment's empty. Not entirely empty, Shep's in the shower, washing off mud and blood from a recent encounter. Much of the blood isn't his own, but he got a couple nicks and scratches, minor things. The scary part? He's singing some old soldier's song about Nall whoresons. "Shep, you sing worse'n I do," Kes yells over her shoulder. "Do not, yew 'eard yerself sing?" Shep calls back, before a bit of a yell, "Damnit all, 'is new soap stings like a raw onion," Kestrel snorts and gets up from her seat, crossing to the fresher door. She nudges it open with a foot and peers inside. "Quit bein' such a fuckin' baby. An' you sing way worse'n I do. Least Dog sings 'long when I sing. 'E jest runs away when you do." Sheppard didn't bother to close the curtain, "Now Ah can't complain 'bout the soap jus' 'cause Dog pretends like 'ee can do shit? Jeez, 'is's becomin' a dictatorship, it is." "...You kin complain 'bout the soap all ya like," Kes says, shrugging. "Jest means I'll call ya a fuckin' baby." She snickers. "Dog runnin' from ya when ya sing jest means ya fuckin' suck at singin'." "Least Rabbit don't run from me, probably jus' 'cause Dog eats meat is all," Shep replies, "An' 'ere, take yer damn soap," he says, flinging at it her once he's done with it. Kestrel ducks, but not nearly fast enough to avoid the impromptu projectile. She's caught upside the head by the flying soap, and simply crumples to the floor in a heap. Oops... "...aw shit," Shep states, getting out of the shower, "Water, right," he says to himself, moving over to her to try and bring her over to the still running shower. To revive her, yah know. "Whafu..." Kes splutters as she's dumped unceremoniously into the shower. She waves a hand vaguely through the spray, as if trying to keep it off of her, though to little avail. "Quitit. Turn th'hose off, Danny, yer bein' a fuggin' wanker." Her speech is faintly slurred. "Come on Kes, wake up," Shep says as he puts her in the water, /lightly/ smacking her cheeks to try and wake her a bit faster, "Don't tell me Ah gotta call Doc or anythin', wake up," Kestrel swats at Shep's hands, still not with much purpose. Really, she's just waving her own hands around at random. "The fuck?" she asks, barely opening her eyes to squint at him. "Kes? Yah there? What'd medic used ta do...'ow many fingers am Ah 'oldin' up?" Shep asks, holding up two fingers in front of her eyes. "Who the fuck're you an' why're ya hittin' me? An' why'm I inna shower?" Kes asks, clearly annoyed as she shoves the fingers away from her face. There's a few beats worth of pause. "An' why're ya naked?" "Ah was showerin' Kes, 'at's why...yah don't 'member anythin'?" Shep asks, stepping back a bit. Kestrel scowls. "Who th'fuck're you?" she asks again, this time a little more demanding. "An' why'm I sittin' in 'ere in m'clothes?" "Awww /fuck/," Shep states, moving out of the bathroom, he runs, naked, towards their room, grabbing his commlink he starts talking into it as he begins to throw clothes on, "Doc? Yah around're awake Doc?" And then, from the fresher... laughter. "Ow, fuck," Kes complains, between giggles, putting a hand to the side of her head, where a rapidly-purpling mark isn't too hard to spot. "Kes, 'at really yew in 'ere?" Shep asks between his calls on the comlink and getting dressed. "Yer an asshole, Shep," Kes calls back, rather gleefully. "Ow. Ya fuckin' knocked me out with -soap-. 'At's a new one on me..." "Awww damn," Shep replies, going back to the bathroom, now wearing boxers and a tee-shirt, "Didn't mean ta 're anythin'," Kestrel snickers and winces all at once. "...I dodged like my ass," she comments. She squints through the shower spray, her clothes now thoroughly soaked and her hair plastered down to her head. "Fuckin' nonexistent." "Now 'at's no way ta talk when we're both wet," Shep states, offering her a hand to lift her up if she so chooses to take it, "Yah gonna be alright?" "'Side from a lump onna side'a m'head size'a a damn goose egg, m'fine," Kes says, grabbing Shep's hand and starting to pull herself to her feet. "Er. Mebbie." Yeah, she seems a bit unsteady there. And it took her three tries to actually -get- his hand, to boot. "Yah wanna go see Doc after we're all dried off an' stuff?" Shep asks. Kestrel snorts. "Naw," she says, shaking her head -- carefully. "I ain't even sure 'e believes m'real yet," is offered by way of explanation. "Be fine. Jest can't fall 'sleep fer a while, case ya gimmie a damn concussion." "Yea, but 'at stuff's gotta be 'ard if Ah gave yah a fuckin' concussion," Shep replies. Kestrel snorts. "Dunno if'n ya did," she says, shrugging. "But ain't worth bein' stupid over, neither." She smirks at him, eyeing him sidewise. "Gotta lot ta make up for 'is time, Shep." "Right, Ah'll go buy a bottle 'ah Ungstiri vodka, some cherries, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, an' 'ose donuts yah like," Shep replies with a nod, "'At least get me started?" "...What, 'r ya plannin' on makin' me a sundae 'r somethin'?" Kes asks, one brow raising as she squints over at him. "Ain't like we got ice cream on 'is Kanter-fersaken ball'a rock, y'know." "Don't need icecream when we got vodka, Kes," Shep replies with a nod, "'Ink Ah should getcha anythin' else while Ah'm out, too?" Kestrel snorts. "Yeah... bring some softer soap, wouldja?" Cue a brief pause, the Later seeming a bit confused."Uh... So, what're we gonna put whipped cream an' choclit sauce an' cherries on, 'en?" she asks, still eyeing him dubiously. "Ah'm makin' it up ta yew, jus' trust me on 'is one," Shep says with a nod, getting his stuff on, "Softer soap, anythin' else 'at'd yah know, 'elp mah case?" where "Uh... kay," Kes replies, rubbing the side of her head gingerly and squinting up at Shep some more as she perches herself on the edge of the bed. "Whatever ya say, chief. Ain't gonna argue with ya right now, cause m'head fuckin' hurts too much." "Pain killers too, right," he goes over to her once he's all dressed and such, "Ah'm sorry Kes, really am...didn't mean ta 'urtcha...jus want ta make it up is all," Kestrel snorts. "M'fine," she says, waving a hand vaguely. "If'n ya was -tryin'- ta hurt me, 'ere's lots better ways anyhow, so I know ya wasn't." She smirks. "Jest caught me off-guard's all." Sheppard nods a little, "Ah'll be back, an' Ah'll make it up ta yah, promise," he states, and goes to kiss her forehead, thinks better of it, and kisses her cheek instead. "...Kay," Kes replies, still seeming a bit confused. "Mebbie I'll work 'r somethin'. So I don' fall 'sleep." She blinks, almost as if she were trying to clear her vision. "'R mebbie I'll jest, y'know, lay down an' watch th'holo till I kin see straight..." Sheppard nods, "Back as soon as Ah can," Shep replies, and then he's off.
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