Ludicrous Defiance

"I'm gonna have to crawl all the way in the damned thing." Fuck. There went her whole plan of not getting dirty. That's when Canada decided it was time to make her escape. She humored, she 'helped'. She even fed him! That ended her duties as benevolent benefactor.

Canada faked a big yaaaaawn. "Ooohooo, look at the time. I do believe my helpy time is all up now. I'll just be leaving you here to do the work I'm PAYING you to do while I go out and have myself a good ti- nap. A good nap. Gotta get that beauty rest so I can buy you annoyingly expensive presents for Bambi." Even while she spoke, Canada was inching towards the door and turning around to bolt for a blissful escape!
 
"Oh, no. I don't think so. You're-" Killian's command broke off as he winced at the sudden crashing sound from Engine One, accompanied by a cloud of rust particles. He looked dejectedly at the engine for a minute before turning back to Canada.

"Fuck it, I'm coming with you. Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you at the dock office." He pulled a can of degreaser out of his pocket and went in search of a working sink.
 
Canada was cackling all the way out of the ship. Sure, she could have ordered him to stay behind and stick to working, but she wasn't that much of a bitch. That engine was so fucked up, they were going to have to go shopping for a whole assload of things. There was just no more time to do it tonight. Not when SHE was more interested and going out for a well deserved break.

Considering not waiting at all, especially when those ten minutes at the dock office were taking forever, Canada rocked on her heels outside. She checked her wristband at least a dozen times. All she could think about was beer, beer, beer! And maybe a nice hot-hottie with some dark hair and light eyes. Or ooooh one with dark skin and big old muscles. Or maybe tonight a little dork with glasses and make his dreams come true? That sounded fun!
 
Killian somehow - even he wasn't entirely sure how - managed to change his shirt and get the majority of the grease and grime washed off of his skin in time to rendezvous with Canada. He still had grease stains on his pants, but that just marked him as one of the station's many grease monkeys, so it didn't bother him in the slightest.

The ten minute mark found him sauntering up to the dock office from the commercial side, ready to go get himself plastered. Seeing Canada fidgeting impatiently, he called out to her.

"Hoy, C! Where we heading? It's two-for-one night at the Landing Gear tonight."
 
"YES! Two-for-one night!" Canada even threw her arms in the air along with her exclamation. Waving them around as she started walking - dancing - her way down the street to head for Landing Gear.

"Gonna get me some beeeeer and some shooots, and hot-hottie and have me a smoooooth little vacation night before we go busting our ass to fix this piece of shit. And hooo, Canada's gonna get her some sugar from the commander, rescue some girls, and save the universe." She might have already been buzzing, but it didn't look like she cared much. She was far too excited with the night's prospects to tone it down.
 
Canada, Killian reflected as they walked to the bar, definitely seemed the sort to have a man in every port. Not that he was throwing stones, mind you. For awhile he'd been quite the maniac himself.

The bouncer, when they arrived, waved them right in - he owed Killian eighty-five credits from a poker game and had been trying to get the debt forgotten for a week, and Canada, shall we say, 'fit his target demographic.' Once inside, they both made a beeline for the bar. Killian ordered himself a particularly strong cocktail called an "Afterburner," and Canada didn't even have time to order before she'd been bought two Tequila Sunrises and a Backblast.

Neither of them wasted any time downing their drinks, and three hours and two hundred and seventeen credits later saw them both utterly smashed. It was at that point that Killian blacked out.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Killian's wrist chrono alarm went off at 0800 the next morning, a particularly annoying shrill, needle-to-the-brain-when-I-have-a-hangover beeping sound. He fumbled with the chrono but eventually managed to get it shut off, and then slowly, painfully cracked his eyes.

The world was completely out of focus, but based on long experience, the warm body next to his appeared to be a person of the female persuasion, who happened to be extremely naked and was most likely extremely attractive. Panning down, he confirmed that yep, he was naked too, and probably (it was still extremely fuzzy) ready for a rematch of last night's probable activities. He didn't recognize the scenery, but then, that wasn't unusual in this particular circumstance.

The world slowly crawled into focus, and he finally got a good look at his companion. Well, shit.

"Uh....mornin', Canada."
 
Canada had woken an hour ago when she nearly rolled off the bed. In her sleep-zombie haze, all she did was roll herself back in to bed, realize she had a man in it - and didn't give a shit. Waking up with a bar lay wasn't so out of the ordinary.

When that blasted annoying alarm started going off, sleep-zombie Canada was wishing she still had her clothes. Cause she was about to whip out her pistol and shoot him. AND his alarm. Stupid inconsiderate one nighters.

Then he talked.

"Uh....mornin', Canada."

Heywaitaminute. That was new guy. Fixit dude. What was his name again..?

She leaned up on her elbows, casting a confused weary look at him. Then at the headboard that was currently busted clean in half. Wasn't that shit made of metal?

"...you're supposed to fix my shit, not break it."
 
Killian twisted around to get a view of the headboard. The only way to do so without rolling over or standing up (both of which would have made his head hurt more), it turned out, wound up with him poking Canada, but whatever. He'd worry about that when his headache subsided.

"I think," he said slowly, keeping his voice down in consideration of the little man with hammers in his skull, "That it probably would have needed to be replaced anyways. The bolts holding the frame together should have failed before the headboard broke."

Said bolts finally gave way with a split-second warning in the form of a tortured squeal (which didn't help Killian's throbbing head at ALL, nor did the bunk's sudden descent to deck level). At that point, he gave up on trying to save himself headache - it was obviously a lost cause - and rolled over, to find a pair of large duffel bags and a range pack stuffed to the brim next to the wall. Which meant he'd moved onto the ship last night. Good to know, but not what he was...ah. A jug of water, thankfully full of clean water.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position with a wince and took a drink.

"I'm beginning to think we should just replace everything but the hull."
 
"Oh god in hell..." The screeching was just too much to bare. Hee hee. ...bare. Canada pulled a pillow over her head. There was too much light in here. Some stupid lamp or overhead light. She was surprised those even worked.

Stretching under the pillow, Canada made to move to bother getting up or out of bed. Screw that. She was comfy right there. A little perturbed with herself for sleeping with a crewmate, but what's a girl to do? Too late now! Taking a peek out from under the pillow, she was wishing she remember more about last night than those first few drinks. A broken headboard must of been one hell of a good ride.

"Whatever you want babe, if you make me some breakfast. New hull, new tools...just bring me breakfast."
 
Killian grunted his assent as he rolled off the bed and started going through his duffels for a pair of pants. After a few moments, he decided just to forget about it and threw on the clothes he was wearing last night.

------

An hour and a hangover cure later, Killian was back on the ship, bearing fast food and coffee. He deposited one helping and a mug in front of Canada's semi-aware form and started in on his own.

"So...a thought just occurred to me. It's Sunday. Can't get parts 'till tomorrow. Can't work on the ship without parts."

He paused.

"Did you know the cockpit recorder works?"
 
"Are you kidding me? Stupid fucking Sunday." Canada had at least pulled on a shirt and some underwear, though hadn't even bothered with getting fully dressed. Apparently, there was no point to even getting out of bed either if they couldn't get shit done. Now that she was sitting in a chair across from Killian at the common room table, it was too late to head back there. ...maybe.

Canada dumped loads of cream and sugar in to her coffee before taking what must of been a heavenly sip. That sigh of pleasure at a nice hot drink made the shitty news a little less shitty. Sure, the higher ups and Quinn especially were going to get real bitchy. But this meant she got a full weekend to do absolutely nothing.

...wait, cockpit recorder?

A raised eyebrow, and a curious expression was aimed at Killian. "All the shit broken on this ship and that's the only thing that works? What's on it?" ...should she even ask? After finding pants lodged down in the engine, it might not be such a good idea.
 
Killian savored his coffee. Just because he liked it black as space and sweet as sin didn't mean he didn't enjoy it. He took several long, slow drags before responding to Canada's inquiry.

"I now know that you are a screamer, and that we only got four hours of actual sleep," Killian said with a grin. "I don't know about you, but I'm going back to bed. I'll worry about what parts we need tonight."

Polishing off the last of his heart attack on a bun and draining his coffee, he tossed the wrapper into the trash, set his mug by the (empty) coffeepot, and headed back for the bunkroom, pausing to flash a grin at Canada on the way there.
 
"Pff. I coulda told you that m'self." she mumbled as he walked away. Canada lingered in the common room, taking her time drinking her coffee and getting a few bites to eat. All that fun last night left her with a voracious appetite. Now she just wished she could remember how fun it was.

Well. Curiosity couldn't be satiated by sitting around.

Canada waltzed herself to the cockpit, fiddling around with the controls until she could bring up the screen and check out what was left on the recorder. Rewinding back too far, she got a good glimpse of some of the former crew. Nothing too entertaining. Looked like a bunch of no-good smugglers. Unfriendly types. But oooh. Back to semi present date, she spent a good thirty minutes watching records.

So that's how the headboard got busted. Nice!

Canada made her way back to the bedroom, tilting her head at the form of Killian sprawled out on the bed. There WAS that temptation to pounce on him. After all, watching steamy porn was always a good turn on. But... a crewmate was a crewmate, and that shit could get awkward.

"I'm going to shower. ...Does the shower even work in this stupid thing? Fuck, maybe I should have booked a room..." A day without getting stuff fixed. And she really wanted that cool shower too!
 
If Killian had planned on actually going back to sleep, then coffee had been a bad idea. He was wide awake, and sprawling on the bed...well, on the matress, anyways...only served to punctuate that. He grinned at Canada as she stood in the doorway.

"Goddamn, C. You look even better in a T-shirt and panties than you did last night. If you need a shower, though, I might as well join you," he said, winking as he hauled himself to his feet and pulled off his shirt, tossing it in the corner with his bags. He ambled around behind Canada, put his arms over her shoulders, and pulled her up against him. He leaned down so that his mouth was right next to her ear and breathed, "Save on the water bill, or some shit."
 
"Do we even have working water in this thing?" Canada responded as she crossed her arms, not quite moving out of his grasp. ...yet! If she had only one weakness, it had to be shameless half naked flirting. His body was nice and solid, and even now she was considering a repeat performance of what she watched over the security logs. Moments like that should never be forgotten! Alas, she finally eased out of his grasp and turned to head for the showers, even if she couldn't resist giving his ass a quick pinch. She could bounce a quarter off that thing!

"Sorry, hotness. I got a rule about no-touchie crew members. That uh... officially starts today." Sure as hell didn't start last night. Canada stepped in to the shower room, running a finger down one of the walls with a grimace. Dirty as hell. ...Though a slow grin at the thought of making him scrub down the walls wearing nothing at all was equally as dirty. Man, she needed a cold shower!
 
"Damn straight the water works. How else y'think I made coffee? And I'll have you know that I take the whole 'no touchie' thing as a challenge. You know you want an encore, girl," Killian said, grinning, and smacked Canada's ass, then leaned in and whispered in her ear. "And I know you do too. After all, you're not wearing pants."

He reached past her and turned on the shower, which proceeded to belch forth rusty brown sludge. A fist to the wall had it running clear soon, but he really didn't think either of them wanted to use the shower in its present state anyways.

Goddammit. He needed a cold fucking shower. As did Canada, apparently...

...Jayzus Horatio Fornicating Christ on a cracker, that was hot. Wait. Stop. No thinking of Canada in the shower. Focus.

"Whelp. We could clean the shower and then use it. Or we could just get a room at the Captain's Guild. Which would have the added advantage of headboards that are unlikely to crack."
 
Canada had a mind to play all coy and innocent. But the thought even made HER want to choke on her own spit laughing. Innocent was not her style. However, holding steadfast to her boundaries rules was an important one. No matter how much she wanted to sink her teeth in to his shoulder and make him scream her name. Nope. No more sleeping with the crew.

Rubbing the sting on her rear end without a care in the world that she was still prancing around in her undies, she mused over it. "Naaaw. Shackin' up in a hotel with some smarmy hottiepants is a one way ticket to fuckland and we're not taking that ride again." Of course, the way she said it suggested otherwise. For some reason everything she said seemed to have that flirtatious swing to it, regardless of the statement.

Canada flicked her hands at the mess. "All this, gotta clean it up. That means yooou on your hands and knees scrubbing these floors. As long as the water is fresh, I can make do." Yes. Hands and knees. The smirk she wore only grew wider.
 
"Uh-huh. Sure we're not. You just want a free show."

Killian chuckled and left the room for a moment, returning with a cleaning brush and a can of degreaser, and sans boots and socks. Setting the brush and can down next to the shower, he turned to Canada. He regarded her with that raised eyebrow of his, then darted in and caught her in a kiss, which he held for a moment before stepping back.

"Price of admission," he said with a grin. "I promise you won't be dissappointed."

Then he turned, flicked the shower on, and stepped in, starting in on the walls without worrying about his pants. After all, he knew exactly how much this particular pair of cargoes clung, and it wouldn't do to give her TOO much for free.
 
"You're a cocky shit." Canada mumbled without any animosity. She leaned to the side, propping her body against the wall with an elbow and holding her head. It seems she was full intent on standing there and watching him do the job. Why not? He'd get all wet and sweaty AND she'd know it was done right. Nothing like a little profitable supervising.

Of course, the fun part was imagining him pulling off his pants and twirling on a stripper bar like those male whores at the Club. It was gay as fuck, but something that out of character would be her laugh for the year.

Canada was smirking outwardly at her thoughts. "You missed a spot, Killkat."
 
Killian sat back and looked at the spot Canada -yet again- pointed at. It was clean. In fact, the whole damn shower was so clean that he'd have to start filing down the walls to get anything else off of it. He looked back at Canada with an amused grin. Her eyes were closed, and she had a lecherous smirk on her face. Well, now.

Setting the cleaning stuff down outside the shower, he padded over to her, waited a moment, and then pulled her tightly to him.
He picked her up by her ass, ignoring her squeal of surprise, and carried her into the shower with him, where he pinned her against the wall without letting her down and kissed her. When he let her up for air, he started nipping at the side of her neck.

"'Course I'm...cocky," he said between nibbles. "I can...tell how...bad you want me."