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11.23.2012 , 02:03 PM | #8
Cross-post with a big chunk added after.
Conference Table Shenanigans

Quinn sought an audience with Ald late in the day when he was sure Vette and Pierce would be too busy drinking and shooting targets in the Cargo Bay to bother to eavesdrop. Still, he put a white noise emitter on the door just in case.

When he turned to Ald, the Sith Lord grinned lopsidedly at him. He was always at ease around him. It put him on edge.

“My Lord, some time ago you expressed an interest in furthering our… relationship,” Quinn said stiffly.

“Yes and, if I recall correctly, you thought it ‘improper’,” Ald replied.

“I have had time to think on it, my Lord.”

“And?” Ald asked, arching a brow.

Quinn shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I have always preferred the company of women.” Quinn frowned when Ald’s face dropped. “That is not to say that I haven’t enjoyed the company of men as well.”

“What are you trying to say, Captain?” Ald asked a tad impatiently.

“I’m trying to say the only barriers between us are our respective ranks, but, if you are will to overlook such matters, I believe we can find a suitable arrangement.”

Ald answered him with a kiss filled with repressed desire. He pressed his body to Quinn’s with great urgency and moved him until his back was pressed against the door. Quinn’s repression, however, was far stronger and forced the pair from the door to the conference table to previously unexplored heights. The table would never be the same again.


The crew had gathered in the conference room for a short meeting when Vette noticed the damage to the conference table.

“What the hell happened to the conference table?” Vette asked.

A faint blush dusted Ald’s rust orange cheeks, but Quinn continued his briefing as if nothing happened.

“Seriously, there are dents all over it!” Vette piped. She traced three gouges in the surface with her nails. “There are scratches in the surface! They match up with my fingernails!”

“Are you trying to tell us something, Vette?” Quinn asked smoothly.

Vette turned her attention back to him. The holoprojector cast blue shadows along the contours of his face, highlighting his cool, blank face and the ferocity in his blue eyes.

“Was someone tortured on the conference table?” Vette asked.

“No,” Quinn replied stiffly.

“Then what the hell happened to it? It looks like its seen some things.”

Ald face palmed next to her while Pierce chuckled across the table.

“I don’t have time to examine every detail of the conference table,” Quinn said stiffly, “especially during a mission briefing. Kindly turn your attentions back to the matter at hand and be silent.”

Vette squinted at Quinn for a moment before huffing and crossing her arms. Quinn continued his briefing, but Vette’s attentions had now shifted to Ald. Ald had turned his attentions back to the Captain, a blush still faint on his cheeks. The gears in her mind turned and turned, her lekku twitching as she put the pieces together: Ald’s blushing, Quinn’s weird blue gaze of doom, and the dents on the conference table.

“You two had sex on the table!” Vette squeaked.

Ald sputtered, Pierce gaped, and Quinn slammed his hand down on the table.

“Vette!” Quinn snapped. “This is neither the time nor the place for your twisted fantasies. Kindly keep them to yourself.”

“Twisted?” Ald asked quietly.

Quinn straightened his back and glanced at Ald from the corner of his eye. “Not the time, my Lord. Allow me to finish the briefing. Please.”

“Was there something weird about it?”

“My Lord, this is not the time,” Quinn answered stiffly.

“I need popcorn for this,” Vette muttered to herself.

“I’d settle for an ale,” Pierce mumbled.

“Was it not satisfactory?” Ald asked.

Quinn ran a hand down his face then pinched the bridge of his nose. “My Lord, I am trying to conduct a briefing here. I can sooth your ego later.”

“I thought it was good,” Ald mumbled sadly.

Quinn fought the urge to slam his head into the nearest hard object and render himself unconscious.

“My Lord,” Quinn said stiffly, “we can talk about this later. In private.”

“On the conference table?” Ald asked hopefully.

At the conference table,” Quinn insisted.

Ald slouched in his seat and pouted. Quinn put a hand over his eyes and continued where he left off with his mission briefing. Emperor dammit.
I'll probably die if you group with me, but I'll go out with both lightsabers drawn stabbing someone in the face. Probably you, but it's cool. Forever Shenanigans!!