A Chance Encounter [Back Post]
Posted on Fri Sep 13th, 2024 @ 3:16pm by Lieutenant Callan Armidale & Lieutenant JG Scott Jones
2,230 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission:
Silver Rain
Location: USS Intrepid
Timeline: MD1: 1700 hours
Callan has finished a duty shift, moving through junction after junction of Jeffries tubes. A full eight hour shift. He felt slightly gross, sweaty and a bit tired. The mustard colored jumpsuit was more ideal for the job he had been performing, but he looked like a bag of russet potatoes in a burlap sack.
This was an incredibly valid, and mortifying, observation when Lieutenant and shuttle Captain entered the turbolift. Callan had thought there was a moment between them, but then the world literally fell apart the next day. They had just finished picking up the pieces and returned to their routine duties on Intrepid.
Callan had suddenly realized he hadn’t consulted the holographic form that Jonah had left him. He suddenly realized he didn’t miss it either. The hologram was set to alert him with anything new, but there wasn’t anything new. For nearly four years there wasn’t anything new. Cal was coming to a realization that Jonah was dead.
“Um, hi,” Cal said hesitantly. ’What am I doing?’ he wondered silently.
After what felt like months of endless days, Scott was finally glad to be giving himself a bit of a break. He had longed to take some time for himself, loose himself in one of his favourite activities, so after getting changed, Scott was headed to the gym. It was the one time of day where he could loose himself in what he was doing, so donning some very old fashioned over the hear headphones and his usual gym attire of shorts and tank top which clung in all the right places he headed off.
The turbo lift stopped quite abruptly knocking him out of the daydream like haze he was in as a familiar face entered and greeted him, if somewhat awkwardly, "Callan, isn't it? Hey. I'm still doing my best to learn names," he smiled, pushing the headphones down and onto his neck.
“That’s right,” he replied, trying to keep the surprise from his voice and face when he’d been remembered. Cal was good at dead pan reactions after his Intel training.
Cal stepped into the lift with Scott, really trying not allow his gaze to linger too long. “I’m your all around the ship Ops guy…and you’re Scott, the Group Commander, right?”
"That's right," Scott began to reply, "resident fly boy, overall responsibility for the fighters on board." He smiled openly, warmly, trying to build some rapport. So far he had felt quite isolated on the ship, most of his interactions with people thus far had been somewhat negative and he wasn't sure if he could cope with many more.
“Hmmm,” Cal responded. Apparently he had a type. “That must keep you busy. I mean, I haven’t seen you since the baseball game on Nee El-Auria. I mean, not that I’ve been looking, but I kind of have. Nevermind,” Callan decided after rambling a bit.
"Yeah," Scott shied away a little, "this posting has been a bit rough getting settled in compared with some others. It has been a bit full on since getting here," he rubbed a bit of tension away from the back of his neck. "So times like this, I tend to just get my head down and get on with things," he continued, "but it has been nice to hear someone was looking out for me." His warm, effortless smile returned to his face.
Cal blushed a bit but dipped his head down. “You look like you’re dressed for the gym. Any chance you might want some company? Obviously, I’ll have to change and clean up from the grease monkey look,” Cal offered.
“I used to work out all the time,” he added, skipping the part about his workouts being with his probably dead husband. ’Is that how I’m thinking about him now?’ Cal wondered. In his defense, he had had no word of life or death from Jonah in three years. Longer than they had dated and been married added together.
"The gym is my own personal sanctuary at times," Scott began as the turbo lift began to slow to a stop, "so it is a good bet you can either find me there or on my way there when not on duty." He paused for a second, "Company is always welcome, but you'll need to forgive me if I blank out at times. Lifting heavy things and putting them back down gives me a bit of clarity. I have been accused of having a resting angry face when there, but hopefully you see that isn't the case." As the turbo lift doors open he stepped out, "I'll head on and get started on my warm up, hopefully see you shortly?"
Callan smiled shyly. “Yeah. I’m just going to pop into a sonic for ten minutes and then change. I should be out in no time,” he responded. It wasn’t like the gym didn’t have facilities and replicators for the crew.
Entering the gym, it was nice and quiet, always a win for Scott. He popped on his headphones, got them to play some music that he enjoyed that lifted him up emotionally while he was lifting things up physically. After a few minutes on the treadmill to warm up, he headed to the power rack, where a barbell, a set of weights and a bench was waiting for him. He felt like doing an all over upper body day, it was the kind of workout he felt strongest with and would leave him feeling properly satisfied with himself at the end. Today, for at least one exercise he would hit a personal best, he told himself.
Cal popped out of the locker room to see Scott already busting out some impressive weight on a barbell. Cal was going to start with a quick jog on the treadmill, but he changed his mind quickly and moved to where Scott was already lifting. He pulled on some anti-grav gloves, knowing he couldn’t spot this much weight.
“I’ll spot you,” Cal said, moving in without trying to be intrusive. “I’ve got on anti-grav gloves, so I promise not to die under this amount of weight…or I can back off if I’m making you uncomfortable,” he quickly added. He understood that Scott typically came to the gym alone by the sound of it.
"Well if I am getting a spotter," Scott began, "let's pop some more weight onto this. I can always go a little heavier knowing I have someone to help me out. Want to grab one of those 25 kilo plates and add it to the other side for me?" He was much more free and easy in the gym than he had been elsewhere, while he was still there to get a workout done, he was always more relaxed and social.
Callan moved in concert with Scott, subtracting weights and then adding more, making sure each side was balanced before adding back the original weights. While doing so, Cal caught on something that Scott had said earlier. “So you said you’re having trouble sorta fitting in? Meeting people?” He wondered aloud.
“Not that I’m a social butterfly, but I know most of the bridge crew from my time there…and I know a lot of the other crew from crawling around this ship ten times over on any given week.
“I guess the unfortunate part of your ‘flyboy’ charm is that you’ve been locked away in the shuttlebays, tending to your flight crews and simulations. Maybe you should try a break,” Cal offered.
Fighting to re-rail his train of thought, he anxiously added, “I think I heard they’re going to need help with a helmsman on the bridge. Alpha shift. I’ve already picked up the open shifts in Operations,” Cal heard himself blurt out.
’Why the hell would he care if I picked up some bridge shifts? Stupid…’ Cal berated himself. Scott had said one nice thing to him during a crew building exercise, he hadn’t flirted with him. He probably wasn’t even attracted to Cal in the slightest AND he had mentioned feeling lonely and cut off from the rest of the crew.
’He was just being nice to you, so shut up and concentrate on your job as a spotter,’ Cal reminded himself.
"Now that is an excellent idea," Scott replied with an easy smile as he lowered himself under the bar. "Have you spotted someone before?" he asked as he gripped the bar tight, set his shoulders down and back into the set position and arched his back somewhat. It did puff his chest up a little more and the tank top he was wearing did shift a little out of the way.
Callan hadn’t been all about physicality with Jonah. They both were in good shape, but Cal watched as the fighter pilot laid back down beneath him. He tried not to react, but Scott’s physique was astounding, near perfection in shape and composition. He idly and not-so-jokingly wondered to himself if he was drooling.
“Yeah,” Cal answered. He had spotted for Jonah and vice versa while in the gym together. “I used to have a regular gym partner,” Cal quickly added. “Though this is more weight than either us ever attempted.”
Finishing up his set Scott sat up, smiled, stretched his chest out a bit and said, "Your turn," and he spun, wiping the sweat from the bench, "What is the last you were lifting? Depending how long it's been, we can adjust." He popped himself up and positioned himself at the head of the rack ready to unclip the barbell and start adjusting the weights.
Feeling sheepish after watching Scott lift so much, Cal admitted, “About 85 kilos.” He hadn’t wanted to be as bulky as Scott, so he did more reps with less weight.
"That is impressive," Scott began, "pretty sure that is over your body weight is it not?" He asked giving him the once over to try and judge.
“Not by much,” Cal admitted, a sudden blush spread across his cheeks. “To be honest, I’ve not kept up with it for a while. Other things on my mind, so 85 kilos may be a stretch,” he admitted. “You may end up really having to spot me if I get in trouble.”
“Hmmm,” Scott made a noise somewhere between intrigue and concern. “Maybe we should start lower with the weights, focus on reps instead?”
Now Callan felt foolish. “No, I think this will be okay.”
Cal grabbed the bar and managed two but he really struggled on the third and Scott eventually came to his rescue. He could feel the sweat rolling down his face and the blush he could blame on the work out.
“Next?” Cal asked sheepishly.
Scott looked at the smaller man. He was sure the Aussie was pressing himself harder than he needed in some form of…manliness? That didn’t seem right. Flirtatiousness? Scott tilted his head as he thought he’d just hit the nail on the head.
If that was the case, then Cal was out of luck. Scott had other concerns to deal with before he pursued a relationship on a brand new crew rotation. Though Cal did have pretty hazel eyes. ’Nope! Scott immediately put that thought out of his mind.
“You are going to be sore tomorrow,” Scott said. “Your next set, we’re dropping you back by twenty kilos. I told you not to overdo it on your first work out in a while.”
Moving to the replicator, Scott ordered a protein shake and handed it to Cal. “Your body is going to need the protein to repair all the torn muscle you just created.”
Scott grabbed Cal’s left arm since his right held the shake. He dug his fingers into the muscle and could feel the spasming just beneath the skin. Cal seemed to not enjoy his upper arm massage. “Okay, that proves it! Go get your shorts on and hit the pool. It’ll be a better work out for you right now than anymore lifting.”
“Well,” Cal started. “That’s disappointing. It’ll be more like work than working out without a partner to compete against.” Cal punched Scott in the arm. ’Smooth, idiot,’ he thought about himself.
“Arm day can wait until tomorrow,” Scott responded. “You’ll just have to realize I’m going to beat you in swimming too!”
“Mate, I’ve been swimming since before I could walk. I’m and Australian, we’re basically born in the water.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Oz,” Scott baited his opponent before disappearing into the changing room.
Cal smirked. He had the bulkier man beat in the water, without a doubt. He may not have been a weight lifter, but his height, weight and body type made him an ideal swimmer.
Besides, Callan had an Aussie speedo that he hoped Scott might notice. Confidently, Callan walked into the changing room and opened his own locker. Even if he didn’t beat Scott’s arm day challenge, he was going to win one way or another.
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