hallelujahpilot | (no subject)

(no subject)

There is practice to let off steam, and there is practice because practice is important and can mean the difference between getting home in one piece and being, shall we say, eaten.

So the gun-range has a pilot today, albeit it one dressed in the Marine uniform instead of her flightsuit. She has a handgun instead of a rifle (her thigh-holster is empty - no point in practicing with a weapon you aren't going to use) and, like before, the bullet holes cluster around the bull's eye.

Judging by the number, she's been here for a while, and she is just sliding in her last magazine when she catches sight of someone approaching.

"Mornin', Jack."

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"Yeah, guess not," he says, pulling out his pistol and checking it over. "Anything interesting happen for you in the last few days?"

"Yeah, I suppose they did."

She sounds pleased, oh so pleased.

"Yeah?" Jack asks, raising a eyebrow. "And what was that?"

Trudy studies him for a moment, and smirks.

"Y'mean back out my door or your friend Carl askin' me out?"

Edited 2010-05-21 06:13 (UTC)

That gets her a very interested look. "Carl asked you out? You mean...on a date, kind of asked you out?"

Considering the look that had come over Carl when he was talking about her, it doesn't entirely surprise Jack. He's somewhat torn between wondering if this is a good idea at the moment and thinking that Carl could use something good in his life at the moment, not to mention more support.

Then again, Jack isn't exactly the example of sanity at the moment, so he's pretty sure he doesn't have any right to judge.

Amused, "Yeah. A date kinda asking me out."

"Really," Jack says with a slight smile. Oh, Carl's going to hear about this. "Know what you're doing yet?"

"Yes, we do."

Which is - go for a long drive and a marathon Star Wars.

"Does it involve visiting a rifle range or jumping out of a plane?" He's teasing, really.

"I don't kiss and tell."

"I'll just have to grill Carl, then."

She laughs at that, the sound witch's-cackle-wicked and somehow joyeous at the same time. Whatever else might be going through Carl's head, he at least makes the pilot happy.

"Yeah-huh. What he tells you is his business."

"Yeah. He can be pretty tight-lipped when he wants to be, though." Not that Jack should really be complaining, considering how few people in the bar he's told, well, anything about what's happened to him in the last couple years.

"Doesn't that kinda come with the territory?"

"Yeah. But it starts becoming a habit outside of work, too."

Trudy's eyes narrow slightly.

"Like with yourself."

Jack gives her a grim smile. "That's a bit more than habit by now."

More like self-preservation and paranoia.

She regards him for a long moment, eyes sharp.

"Okay," she says at last, with an easy smile. "I won't ask."

"Probably a good thing, as you can ask all you won't but I don't promise to answer," Jack says with an attempt at a weak smile that misses by a mile.

That gets a huffed laugh.

"Exactly! But, seriously, Carl's not...any worse than I'd expect."

"There's a compliment," Jack says wryly.

Entertained, "You'd prefer me to lie?"

"No. Least you know what you're getting into," he says with a slight smile.

"Ye-e-ep."

Military, secretive, with a side-helping of PTSD. She can deal with it. Then her eyes narrow again. "Any objections?" Her tone is friendly, curious...and her eyes are sharp.

Jack shakes his head. "No. Not that it's any of my business, anyway."