ACTION TIME

[aphelionix]

The two days had come and gone since Locke stayed over at Weiler's. He was tipsy when Weiler had called that night and made their two day check-in rule - not that he forgot, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that something was off when he went to bed that night.

On the morning of the third day, he remembered.

The rule was to get out. He tried calling Weiler once, in case he had forgotten his own rule, but Locke was sure by now that it wasn't like him. It was all the sign he needed when the call went straight to voice mail. He headed right out the door of his room, only gathering his pistol and communicator. Through the bustling of the soldiers' morning routines, he managed to keep himself fairly blended in. No one seemed to be looking on him any differently. Locke was on the last stretch of the emergency escape route of Gladsheim's base - for Circle members, that was - when someone called his name.

His real name.

Comments

[tactician]

Making a low amused sound in the back of his throat, Weiler nodded along to the introduction. "Guten Tag, McGraw. Call me Weiler."

He set a hand on Locke's arm. "And this is Cupid, your pilot."

"HELLO, WEILER, CUPID."

Weiler couldn't look more pleased if he tried.

[aphelionix]

Weiler got a smack to the shoulder.

"Sorry to override your information this early, McGraw, but it's Locke. Not..." He frowned. "Not Cupid," he said quietly. God, he hated saying it.

[tactician]

"HELLO LOCKE," said the AI after a brief second. "THOUGH I DO INSIST THAT 'CUPID' IS A SATISFACTORY NAME. THE ETYMOLOGY OF IT HAILS FROM THE ANCIENT ROMANS, LONG BEFORE THE SPACE AGE..."

Weiler just grinned, but he knew not to push a point after it had been made. "Yes, McGraw, thanks for that, but I think the Captain might want to skip the history lesson."

"UNDERSTOOD," said McGraw, but damn if it didn't sound the slightest bit disappointed. "THE SHIP IS CURRENTLY HEADED TOWARD U.U.F. PLANET D-3-5-7-0-F-6, ERCLESSE. ALL FACILITIES ARE PERFORMING AS USUAL. DOES THE CAPTAIN WISH TO CUSTOMIZE THE REST OF MY SETTINGS OR PROCEED WITH DEFAULT?"

[aphelionix]

Cupid Locke looked very perturbed by the sudden enthusiasm the AI had. This was why he disliked them - they didn't get cues like humans did. Actually, this was perhaps why he didn't like other humans as much, as they didn't program their AIs to recognize them in the first place.

"Where's the switch that turns you off, McGraw?"

[tactician]

Weiler raised his brows but didn't interfere. It wasn't his place to, as he wasn't the Captain, and he was used to taking the backseat in such decisions.

After a second, McGraw responded as it was clearly obligated to. "I CAN TURN MYSELF OFF UNTIL YOU AUDIBLY REQUIRE OF ME, CAPTAIN," it admitted, though its mechanical words began trailing off near the end.

[aphelionix]

A sigh.

"If you're only located in the flight deck, then I suppose it won't be a problem." He really didn't like the AIs that followed you around the ship, asking if your shower water was acceptable, or if you needed your bed just slightly firmer when it could sense you weren't falling asleep right away. It creeped him out.

[tactician]

Weiler smiled and turned his attention to the dashboard. "Stay out of the bedroom, is what he means. We need our privacy there."

"OF COURSE, CAPTAIN. I WILL KEEP MY INTERJECTIONS SETTING TO A MINIMUM AS WELL." McGraw sounded somewhat relieved.

"Pushover," Weiler whispered to the side, cupping a hand over his mouth.

[aphelionix]

Locke slanted a look at him, somehow looking quite indignant when he sipped his coffee.

"I draw lines where I need to," he said. "Clearly you've never been stuck in a ship, by yourself, with an AI for a week."

[tactician]

"Poor Captain," Weiler sympathized, though he was clearly not at all sympathetic to Locke's proposed plight. "At least this time, I'll be here if you get stuck, and I'm sure we can come up with more interesting topics to discuss should the need arise."

[aphelionix]

When Locke finished off his coffee, he stood up, minding the knee brace he was now wearing that kept him from stretching his wound while the stitches helped it heal together.

"I believe that at least," he admitted. Locke nodded at Weiler's coffee, which in the surprise over the AI, had been forgotten on the floor. "Should I refresh that?"

[tactician]

"I've had enough, danke," said Weiler, though he did pick up the mug from the ground and hand it over for Locke to bring back into the kitchen and dump in the self-cleaning dish rack. Even with a low-frills model like the Grawthing, there were some luxuries that were standard by virtue of it being a long-haul craft, which made it perfect for a pair of fugitive bachelors who probably couldn't manage a constant bout of housekeeping between the two of them.

By the time Locke returned, Weiler was still sitting where he had left him, one arm propped on an armrest and his chin resting in its cupped palm. The man, blank-faced and hard to read, seemed to be staring out into the infinite blackness of space, surprisingly quiet and without a customary quip as the pilot returned.

[aphelionix]

By the time Locke reached the kitchen, it may have hit him that he shouldn't have left Weiler and the AI alone. He dreaded what he might come back to after dropping off the dishes, only when the door opened, it was absolutely silent. Locke raised an eyebrow down at Weiler. He looked... well, he couldn't quite find a word for it.

"Don't tell me you two got in a row already," he said.

[tactician]

Slowly, Weiler blinked, focusing as he did so, like a machine coming back to life. The first thing he did was put on an easy smile. "Hm? Oh, no, McGraw's been good - he's keeping quiet like he said he would. I was just thinking, Kapitän."

[aphelionix]

Locke eased back into his seat, looking over.

"About?"

[tactician]

With his head still propped in his hand, Weiler turned it to look at Locke. "Just catching up with everything that's happened these past few days." Laughing a little, Weiler closed his eyes, drumming the fingers of his free hand on the other armrest. "I admit, I've been a bit caught up, lately."

Just a little bit of an understatement, there.

[aphelionix]

He could easily understand. Weiler had been in someone else's shadow for a long time - a pretty cozy shadow at that - and now, it was over. There wasn't even the Circle to turn to. So much had happened in such a short span of time that neither of them really had the time to compute it until now. It was easier for Locke, though - he was used to action and 'living on the wild side', as Weiler put it.

And he really, really wanted off Gladsheim.

Locke leaned forward with an elbow on his thigh. He almost reached over to slip his hand under Weiler's, but he remembered the recoil he got last time. Instead, he opted for an encouraging pat on the knee.

"Good to think on it while it's calm," he said. "Things are still unpredictable right now."

[tactician]

Weiler blinked open one eye, smile impish. "Can't do much thinking past acknowledging it happened." He glanced pointedly at the hand on his knee. "Are you worried?"

[aphelionix]

Locke withdrew his hand, but he stayed hunched forward.

"More, at first," he admitted. "But you're tougher than you look."

[tactician]

Weiler turned his chair to face Locke, his hands creeping up on Locke's withdrawn ones instead, pinning them to Locke's knees before they could escape much further.

"I am," he agreed, because let it never be said that Weiler wasn't humble, of course. He pushed off his chair until he was sitting only on the very edge of it, just short of climbing into the pilot's lap, putting their faces mere inches apart. "But thanks, Captain Softie."

[aphelionix]

Locke turned his hands upward, fingers tracing Weiler's wrists.

"That's Captain Locke to you," he said, and he scooted to the edge of his own seat, tilting his head and closing the small distance between them. It wasn't a brief contact like the other times; Locke had found them too short to draw a conclusion out of, and when he finally found himself easing into it, Weiler always pulled away. He was almost sure he was being teased all those times.

[tactician]

Smiling against Locke's mouth, Weiler took that as permission to nudge forward and half-climb into the pilot seat, one knee braced to either side of the seat, between the other man's leg and corresponding armrest. This was, technically speaking, the first time they could do this without pretense or necessary interruption, and it was almost comfortable, in a way, as something different enough though familiar, something that could be eased into instead of suddenly sprung on them.

Without the need to make it a show, Weiler naturally defaulted to something lazy and easy, like he was taking his time to enjoy the luxury, mindless of what the 'client' wanted. When he pulled back, his eyes and grin were relaxed with it, voice a little rough. "Captain."

"SHOULD I ALSO CHANGE MY DEFAULT ADDRESS TO THE FULL TITLE 'CAPTAIN LOCKE'?"

[aphelionix]

Locke's arms wound carefully around Weiler's back, mindful of his injury. The change of pace was nice, the captain easily falling into the laziness of it. It was different, not having to worry about anyone else not seeing them, and quite relieving, in fact. His hands traced down Weiler's sides, stopping at his hips. Just when he was thinking he really liked the sound of Weiler saying 'Captain' like that, a much less pleasant sound filled his ears.

If only McGraw could see the twitch of his eye. So much for minimal interjections.

Locke let out an exasperated exhale. "Yes, that's fine, McGraw."

[tactician]

"Take a break for the next half an hour, Herr McGraw," Weiler announced, tilting his head up to address the AI. "For a job well done."

"AS YOU WISH, BUT FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE DOES NOT REQUIRE DOWNTIME," said McGraw informatively, followed by blessed silence.

Weiler looked back down, smirking. "My mistake," he shrugged to Locke.

[aphelionix]

Locke shook his head, but he seemed at least a little amused, one corner of his mouth quirked. "I do hope that wasn't planned."

[tactician]

Weiler slid his elbows past the back of the chair, locking his fingers behind it. "Do you think I'd plan something like that?" he challenged.