Shepard looks at him for a while, watching the frustration in his shoulders and the pitch of his head. She too is feeling that strange mix of anxious, frustrated adrenaline and a powerful desire to go back to bed, metaphorically. Let it be someone else's problem, since there's nothing she know to do about it; the reverie comes to an end when the helmet slips out of her fingers and hits the deck with a clatter.
Right. Enough of that.
"You're not the only one," She says, finally, bending to pick it up, "You wanna come shower with me, up in the cabin? Water pressure's better."
It doesn't carry over to the physical, of course. When they wake up, they'll still be just as dirty, the constant grit of the sandstorms finding its way by now into everythign and everywhere, no matter how you try, but— But! For a little while at least, they can pretend things are normal, manageable, and that the only thing that needs considering is the size of the water tank.
No need to ration, too; what had been designed to serve a full crew, now had only two to ber concerned with. There were worse things, than a little privacy.
no subject
Right. Enough of that.
"You're not the only one," She says, finally, bending to pick it up, "You wanna come shower with me, up in the cabin? Water pressure's better."
It doesn't carry over to the physical, of course. When they wake up, they'll still be just as dirty, the constant grit of the sandstorms finding its way by now into everythign and everywhere, no matter how you try, but— But! For a little while at least, they can pretend things are normal, manageable, and that the only thing that needs considering is the size of the water tank.
No need to ration, too; what had been designed to serve a full crew, now had only two to ber concerned with. There were worse things, than a little privacy.