Hard Sleep

Posted on Sat Apr 18th, 2026 @ 1:59pm by Ensign Noah Balsam & Lieutenant Irynya

Mission: Port of Call
Location: 6-18 New Junior Officer Quarters
Timeline: Mission Day 23 at 2100

[Stardrive; Junior Officers Quarters 6-18]
[MD (TBD)]
[2100 Hours]

Noah was taking a break. It was all... so new. The ship felt fresh and refreshed. Like it had been exfoliated in some way. Though it came with angst and pain. Noah and his roommate friends had found themselves relocated just hours earlier, having reboarded the ship pending the end of shoreleave. Goodbye 4-10. Hello... sort of... to 6-18.

They- he- found himself in the bowels. He was close to Main Engineering now- which served Sheldon well, and Dravor was... likely in a neutral position. The new quarters were... they smelled new-ish. But they also seemed harder. More sturdy and... even maybe a bit smaller. And indeed Noah, out of that curiosity, had asked the computer what the dimensions of this space were. Dravor, Parsons, Noah and Ral had lost a collective 3.3 square meters.

The walls were thicker. They lacked the same softer-feeling finish of the saucer decks. The floors were harder- and metal. But the most obvious loss was- no windows. No ceiling viewports like they'd had on Deck 4. The most annoying thing was that his life had been boxed up and shipped by Dots to this new space and Balsam had to re-establish his nest.

The Ensign had finished formatting and re-initializing his desk computer. The reskin had formalized the divide between the two cadets, with entire cubicle sleeping areas rather than bunks. Additional space and small curios now closely- if maybe claustrophobically- held to a reinforced door. It opened with the sound of a lighter cargo bay door rather than a soft swish.

Noah wasn't sure how he felt about that. But it was what it was. With a glance at his new desk and its customization procedures actively installing, he'd turned himself to arranging his curios.

Dalek. Doctor Who. Those figures went to pride of place at eye-level in his curio. He yawned. It'd been a strangely restless shoreleave, when it should have been refilling. Tholians. Weird Starfleet strong-arming and gag orders. Crazed commanders. And Iry... she was so obviously trying to tiptoe around his mourning and he'd tried very hard to not let it affect their time. And he felt he'd mostly failed. There had been mail call- that box was now sitting on his raised bunk.

Noah adjusted the hem of his pajama pants- simply plaids, baggy. A more clingy SOJO navy shirt. He had his ear pods in his ears and music his recovery friends had found was playing. He wasn't sure how keen he was toward this particular musical group, however. "Skip." he said as he very carefully- almost obsessively- posed a painted figure in full armor appearing to land with some kind of jet pack. "Something more mellow..." He asked the computer.

He glanced at the solid door right next to him. He sighed. It was... lonely... down here. Kind of. Sheldon was elsewhere. Sheldon, Noah felt, was avoiding him. And it sort of hurt...

---

3 Decks.

It was only 3 Decks.

Still, 3 decks, and another part of the ship felt worlds away from one deck apart. Galaxies away from a door she could knock on across a common room.

They hadn't even been back from shore leave half a day and Iry couldn't help missing Noah. Some of it, she'd rationalized, was because their shore leave hadn't turned out the way she'd hoped. There had bee moments of fun and rest. But there'd been some intensely unpleasant ones as well, and she couldn't help feeling that maybe she'd made things worse rather than better.

"Computer," Irynya inquired of the air above her bed where she lay splayed out. "Where is Ensign Noah Balsam?"

The computer's neutral voice filled the space. "Ensign Noah Balsam is in his quarters on Deck 6."

Iry nodded to herself and scrambled toward the side table for her commbadge.

"Iry to Noah," she spoke, again, to the middle distance, waiting for the confirming connecting chirp. "Whatcha up to?"

---

His comms chirped. Noah shifted from his curio, readying to step over. He scowled at another figure that was not set... correctly... in his min palace's memory of his old room. He swept over and bent over his chair. "Hey." His voice squeaked on the vowel. "Just... trying to get my life back in order." He chuckled. "Wha-what about you?"

---

Something unclenched in her chest at the sound of Noah's voice filling up the middle space between her spot on the bed and the commbadge. Several answers flew through her head before she responded. "Laying here twiddling my thumbs," she answered then hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Want any company? Or, umm... help? I promise not to touch the figures." He was particular about those.

---

Could she hear him smiling? "I'll leave the living room door unlocked." He agreed, a certain fond warmth of memory forming in mind. About his figurines.

---

Unable to help herself, Irynya grinned. "Be there in 5. Iry out."

Rolling over she slapped at the commbadge to close the channel and then flopped backward onto the bed, grinning in a way that was unquestionably disproportionate to the conversation. She lay there for only a half a second and then rolled off the bed and went in search of her shoes.

5 minutes later the Risian stepped across the threshold into the utilitarianness of the Deck 6 junior officer quarters. Absently she wondered if the other three men had already had a chance to settle in. It was surprisingly quiet despite a closer proximity to the warp core and impulse drive. "Noah?" she called, instinctively shifting toward the door to her right that occupied the same spot as his previous bedroom.

The door ground open more like a cargo door than a softer sound, as had the living room before. "Welcome to Cargo Bay 4." Noah's smile was slyly turned in to a cheek, his narrowness in profile to her. His large nose, downturned, sort of sloping in a diagonal toward his small chin and longish neck. He turned his head to smile. "One... sec..." His fingers were twiddling a cast model of a ship model that was clearly an old XCV-class Warp One testbed. "Just angling..." He added before his hand pulled away and he smiled again. "Hi. I-I'm thinking we should call this place The Vault. Tork might be stashing his latinum around here. I'm not sure."

Stopping inside the door, Iry watched as he situated the model amidst a series of others. A shift... and then another... and she felt the full force of his smile. She snorted. "I don't think Tork is the latinum type of Ferengi," she offered, chuckling and moving further into the room. Her eyes roved the space, familiarizing as she did. She recognized the familiar bedding and the contents of the half filled curio, but the feel of the room was different. The absence of windows was the most notable and she couldn't help wishing for them. There was something comforting about seeing the stars from one's bed.

"You're right... and it feels really strange. About as strange as Professor Prunta teaching ethics at the Academy," Noah referred to a guest lecturer who had been a female Ferengi. But she'd made her case almost immediately and had made a lasting impression.

When she'd taken everything in she shifted closer to Noah, waiting until his hands were free to bump his shoulder with hers. "Is it weird if I say I missed you?" she asked, saying the thing in her head without considering how it might be received. She'd noticed that... the ease with which things just came out... over the last week.

"No?" Noah pursed his lips, eyes narrowed with thinking. "Its nice. I mean. I missed you... we didn't exactly have a..." His nose wrinkled, "An easy vacation in that place." There was an unintentional, dripping poison to the way Noah said that- *that place.* Pathfinder had left a bitter flavor on his palate.

Iry sighed, sliding her hand into Noah's and leaning her head into his shoulder. "Yeah. That's... an understatement. I'm sorry it wasn't easier." She squeezed his hand eyes examining the figures on the shelf in front of them. "There were some good moments, though," she added. "I mean, The Cidery was nice before we got ambushed. And I'm still curious how the hotel knew to include a bottle of ram'jari'i." The memory of showing Noah the singing glasses that were traditionally used with the Risian liquor pulled at the corners of her lips. "I think I'll save the rest for a special occasion."

Noah squeezed back. "Yeah." His brows perked. "Yeah there was. It's nice being with you." He said. He smiled a quixotic smile at the mention of the bottle of Risian liquor he'd asked the hotel to provide. "Uhh... right yeah. That was... kind of a surprise that they had that, huh." He tugged on his earlobe at that. Then he gently plexed with a couple taps against his mastoid.

The now familiar prickle of a blush had crept up the back of her neck at his comment only to be halted by the hint of...something ... In his tone that didn't sound quite right. She craned her neck to look up at him and caught the nervous movement of his opposite hand towards the bone behind his ear. Her eyes narrowed slightly, moving quickly, but carefully, to slide in front of him, capturing his free hand as he said, "Maybe your birthday or... I don't know... a holiday..."

"Noah," she said, tone edging towards singsong, "do you know something about how the ram'jari'i got there?" She asked. She was close enough to need to tilt her chin to meet his faze, but she held it firmly, eyes dancing with curious amusement.

He pinked. "Uhh.... yeah....?" He raised one brow, and the other eye squinted. "I uh... might have some idea."

"No-ah," she prompted, drawing his name out into two punctuated syllables and slipping up onto her tiptoes for added height. "It wasn't the hotel.... Was it?" She held his gaze despite the pink rising on his cheeks and pursed her lips in mock scolding. For a moment her brain betrayed her and her eyes flicked downward, the prickling at her neck picking right back up. But she was committed now. So she held her ground.

Noah blushed. His extra-wide mouth formed a dimpled line as he tucked his lips. His hands seized at the wrists by the Risian he was denied his fidget. "Uh um..." His eyes glanced at her then away. She was distractingly close- the shape of the room and its pathway between cubbies made it impossible. Her... breasts... her... *perfect* breasts were against his chest. Or just offset from it. "I mean, no, the-the hotel provided it... but uhhhh..." He drew it out until it was almost hoarse. He shrugged. "You caught me. I-I thought it'd be nice to celebrate well... I mean a few things. Your promotion and... you know... shoreleave."

His nose wrinkled, "It was... probably too much? I had to... dig... "

With his admission the mischief in her eyes softened to appreciation... affection... and something else that added intensity her reaction. Without thinking she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth before giving her head the tiniest shake. Something in her twisted taut even as she interrupted him. "No," she said. Her voice held the same affection and intensity as her gaze. "It was... It was perfect." Her gaze dropped to his lips again, darting back up.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to. But what had felt easy in the past suddenly felt like it held... more... Swallowing she pressed closer and brushed her lips against his cheek, lingering for just a moment.

Noah smiled- perhaps she felt the move of his dimple under her. His arms wrapped around her, not fighting her grip so much as redeploying his lankiness. He hugged her against his bony and angular self. His cheek turned just a little and he gave her a small peck at the tail end of her lip-brush. "OK I guess it was alright.. .was just... worried it was too much and got... you know... a little nervous so... I didn't really want to... I dunno." He breathed out over her shoulder. "Guess it was OK though."

He nearly undid all of her hesitation with the shift of his lips towards hers. But then he was talking and it was too late. Somewhere along the way she'd released his wrists so it was easy to reciprocate, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in the spot where his neck met his shoulder. She suddenly had the sense that she'd swallowed an entire flock of small, adamantly fluttery, birds.

"It was perfect," she repeated, murmuring into his neck. "You honestly had nothing to be nervous about." She wanted to say more, tell him that she couldn't remember the last time someone had done something that sweet for her. But words felt extraneous in the moment so she squeezed him appreciatively instead.

"I'm glad.. .okay..." He grimaced. "Whew I mean... alcohol can-uh-can be taken in a lot of ways for different cultures and um... well..." He shrugged with a hand. "I'm glad it was okay after all." He looked at her face and smiled. Inside he winced. You're an idiot Noah Balsam, he thought.

With a bit of reluctance she pulled away, placing her hands on her hips and looking around. "So... can I help? Or are you in need of a break?"

"Oh um." Noah swiveled at his waist and threw his hands up in a shrug that ended with him dropping them down to his thighs with a slap. "Everything. Everything's in the wrong p-place... it's kind of...." His nose wrinkled, "I don't think I can sleep without it being fixed... you know... where it should go. I feel like a bird that someone threw a rock and wrecked their nest." He snickered once at that, dryly.

"You always were a nesting sort," Iry agreed with the tiniest hint of friendly ribbing. "How about this. You pick a box. I'll unearth the contents and you can either tell me where it goes or you can put it where you want it." She searched his face to see what he thought before offering, "or I could put your clothes away and you can focus on the important stuff."

His eyes got big at the second offer. "Uhh there's underwear in there so..." He was fighting a smile around the vaguest of blushes, "How-how-how about we start with uniforms..." His brow rose, "Not that I have near as much, uh, space as you do. Ms. Department Head Senior Officer with her 12.2 square meters more personal space." His nose wrinkled as he picked up a shirt, fluffed it, and started to fold.

"12.2?" She asked, amused at the precision of his recollection. She reached for the pile of shirts he had pulled from and copied his movement. Fingers pinched at the seams, straightening before she tucked the hem under her chin to fold the shirt in half. "That's very specific." Her eyes roved the room again. "How much do you have?"

Noah *painfully* folded like a single guy, with little of the precision and compulsion he did with the more technical aspects of his life. He smiled, lifting his chin with that rumpled grin broken up by his big nose. He raised an eyebrow. "Less than you, less than up on Deck 4 actually." He picked up another pair of pants.

Iry watched the folding of shirts and, not missing a beat, began pulling from the top of his 'completed' stack so that she could fix the bundling of fabric that Noah seemed to consider folding. "Take care of the underwear," she instructed, eyebrows raising meaningfully before she reached for the pants in his hands. She lined up the seams, shaking them out until no wrinkles remained then folded them over one arm, pulling it free and checking the line of the fold.

"Hey, those're already..." He tilted his head in that sassy, 'really?' way, and acquiesced. "Fine... underwear..." He snagged his infamous pair of Spiderman boxerbriefs and proceeded to roll them in to a tube!

"You're welcome to some of my 12.2square meters," she told him as she folded the pants over again into a neat near square. "I mean if there's anything you want to ... you know... store."

Noah chuckled. "How about a life-sized statue of a Wookie?" He asked, "The hairy guy that Doctor Wang played when we did that Holodeck program."

Iry paused, mid-fold with the line of the fold tucked under her chin. She peered up at him from under her lashes and blinked. She had offered, and there hadn't been any criteria. Returning to her task she released the line of fabric to fall over her two pinched fingers and then added another neat near-square to the pile. As she continued she asked what felt, to her, like the obvious question. "Can I turn him to face the wall so it doesn't feel like someone is watching me sleep?" she asked, snagging another shirt and eyeing his tube-underwear with consternation. "I mean... wait... do you actually have a life-sized Wookie statue?" She turned her head as if it might somehow materialize in the already small space of his bedroom.

Noah's mouth lifted into a smirk. As did his brow, arching itself in jest. "No, of course not." He had rolled another thing of his underwear and set its tube-shape next to the other. "But you know, you offered."

The Risian fixed him with a look of faux affront, lips pursed and eyes absolutely glinting with laughter. "You..." she started, struggling to find an appropriate come back. When none came she wrinkled her nose at him and stuck out her tongue. "I did offer. But where would you even get something like that?" Her eyes drifted to the familiar box on his bed. It was the one that held the various bits and bobs that he'd picked up when they'd done their mail run a few days prior. "I somehow doubt one would fit in there."

"Oh I'd get one. But the energy credits for something like that..." Noah's nose wrinkled, his eyes squinted, "I'd have to find Tork's n-non-existent latinum to afford it. On my energy allowance, it'd take months." He followed her line of sight. "There's barely enough room in here for Shelly and I. I think he and I are-are in for a lot of moon landings." Noah's nose again wrinkled. "Uhh that's a Human term for..." He cupped his hands and tapped them together, "When you guys' butts touch in a small space. Like a locker room."

'Moon landings...' The words were mouthed rather than spoken as if Irynya were tasting them before speaking them. "Are you both standing around in the buff regularly?" she asked, curious, but also careful to be neutral. When she and Sheldon had shared space they'd somehow never managed to see each other in anything less than underwear and usually more. That thought gave her pause. The only one of her roommates she'd ever seen completely unclothed was Noah. Even Kennedy had never gone that far when they were dating, though that was more a function of his background, she thought, than anything else.

Noah's nose wrinkled, "No, just..." He shook his head, grimacing, waving a hand away, "N-nevermind... I guess... nevermind. No." His nose wrinkled again. "No we-we don't do that. Actually I... haven't seen much of Sheldon since he got promoted."

"I was kidding," Iry reassured, setting down the last pair of pants that had needed folding and turning. She leaned one hip against the edge of his bed, eyes scanning him as if she could discern something simply by understanding changes to his body language. "Since he was made Assistant Chief," she clarified, "or since he stepped into the Acting Chief role?"

Realistically it probably didn't matter. The two occurrences were close together. But they'd known Lieutenant Tork would be taking over as Chief Engineer for a week and a half now. She'd seen less of Sheldon as well, but had chalked it up to the realities of no longer being roommates. Spending time took intention. That much had been painfully clear. And they'd all been reeling after Subrek's attack.

"Pretty much the same..." Noah said with a shrug. "The last time I remember really seeing him was when Debbie landed on us for getting in to her cheesecakes. When Ral's partner sent him a subspace Dear John." Noah shook his head, "That was brutal." Another set of underwear set aside, Noah shifted tasks. He ferreted behind Irynya and slipped what he'd rolled in to a drawer. It hissed open and with a key, shut just the same. "Are you looking forward to testing the new nacelles?"

"I am," she answered quickly, "but I can get philosophical about speed restrictions during test runs after we back up and you tell me what happened with Ral. What, exactly, is a Dear John letter? Cheesecake? Spill," she instructed, shimmying up onto the smaller width of Noah's bed. She tugged her shoes free of her feet as she did so she wouldn't get them on the blankets and crisscrossed her legs before reaching for a shirt.

"Oh! Uh, oh right." Noah's brows, which had lifted, dropped as he blinked. That Humanism had gotten past without an explanation. And Noah realied he had no idea of its origins either. "Its... an antiquated Earth saying meaning someone breaks up with you over a letter or a message. Not face to face. And basically..." He puffed his cheeks, winced and let it out, "With the the implication, um, not to bother writing back. I heard the letter. It was brutal. Ral deserves way better. His his partner was... um..." Noah winced again, arched a brow and then he just said it, "He's a real Regulan blood worm for what he did to Khrys." He shook his head, "Spineless..."

Iry frowned, placing all of that in what she sometimes thought of as her ever growing body of human lore. "That sounds... awful..." she agreed. "I mean... I know we're all the way out here, but even a video message would have been kinder." She considered Noah for a long moment, tracking his movements as he shifted around the small space to put things away. A number of thoughts--questions and uncertainties all--occurred to her and each was carefully forced back into its box.

Noah moved and put away his underwear- he tapped a drawer, it whispered open, and he sidled them inside. Then he moved to the desk where a flowering plant was sitting in a ceramic planter. He moved to hang it over his desk and flipped on a light. "Computer, shift this spotlight to EM spectrum for a Class F star."

His nose wrinkled, "You've never had cheesecake?"

"I've had cheesecake," she said with an edge of teasing. "But it sounded like there was a story behind Debbie and some cheesecakes and maybe Ral's," she hesitated, trying on the phrase like it was clothing that she wasn't quite sure would fit, "Dear John letter."

"Oh." Noah began.

Her commentary was distracted, though, as she took in the plant. Smoothly she slid from the bed, closing the handful of paces between herself and the spot where Noah stood. "This is new?" she said softly, tempted to reach for it, but well versed enough in Noah's habits to know better by now. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah its pretty, huh..." Noah agreed. "It was in Jyl's room. I decided, um, rather than just putting it in stasis to ship it someplace, I'd try to take care of it." He smiled a smile that had emotion behind it. "I hope I'm not in over my head." He grimaced, "These, heh, these shoulders don't turn blue easily. And the only green I've ever had on my thumb was bio-neural gelpack antifungal infusion gel."

Something inside her softened even as a knot threatened tightening in her chest. Without thought, she looped her arm through his, not pulling him closer, but making contact all the same. "I could help," she offered. Her voice, too, held an edge of emotion, though Noah might have had difficulty parsing what it was. "If you want, I mean. I think that's a perfect way to honor her memory."

"I'd love that." Noah smiled at her. He moved and kissed her cheek, his eyes staying on her as he pulled away. "She always thought you were um... like they used to say on Earth... pretty cool."

The spot on her cheek where Noah's lips had brushed felt warm and it took an act of will not to bring her fingers to the spot. Her gaze held his, unblinking, while a surprised smile crept across her face. "She did?" she asked, feeling the ridiculousness of the question as soon as it was out of her mouth. Obviously he had just said as much. "I... always thought maybe she found me to be a bit intense." Admitting that cost something; the unpacking of one of the things she'd wondered at and had dutifully kept to herself. After the first time she'd realized that Tor was attracted to Noah she'd tried to explain her willingness to make herself less ... visible... in his life, not wanting Jyl-eel to misunderstand and think she was trying to get in the way of what might have been unfolding. Noah had, soundly, told her that she was overthinking and so she hadn't brought the worry back up since.

It had been true, then, that they were only friends.

"I always thought she seemed like a beautiful soul," Iry continued.

"She was." Noah nodded. "She was... um..." He tucked his lips together and he looked down. "Very kind... and understanding. Kinda of, uh, the perfect green thumb." He smiled into a crease in his cheek. "She sang to her plants..." He chuckled. His eyes, though, had water in them. He blinked them back. "Hope they like guitar. Oh." He moved, gently slipping his hand away from Irynya. He went for a case and set it on Sheldon's bed. From it he pulled out his guitar. "Hope Shelly doesn't mind me messing up his sheets." He gushed a smile, his eyes still liquid. "Who-who am I kidding, he'll kill me..."

"I'm pretty good at fixing Sheldon's sheets," Iry offered. It was meant to sound conspiratorial, but there was no weight to the attempt. Instead, she crossed one arm across her body, wrapping her arm just above her elbow and rubbing her thumb up and down absently. Whatever was happening in that moment she didn't want to be in the way of it. With a smile and a head bob toward the guitar that Noah had begun to unpack, she asked what felt like the obvious next question. "Do you know what she liked to sing?" She wasn't Jyl-eel, but her own voice wasn't terrible. Maybe it was a song she could learn.

"Uh." Noah pursed his lips and a conflicted look crossed his face- not from the sharing, but from informational uncertainty, "Uhh... you know... I-I'm embarrassed but.... I never asked. They felt uh... very simple? Lyrical? Like maybe..." He blinked, he shrugged, "Like.. nursery rhymes almost, though I don't know if the Valt have those. They're a very..." His nose wrinkled, "Mercantile uh, people. I mean, um, one of their closest allies are the Orions. And they're in the Interstellar Trade Alliance so..." He shrugged. He moved in- he set his guitar on his bed beyond their clothes folding. Then he hefted his guitar case and stowed it away on his side of the room. "I feel like I'm being stowed in a bank vault in here..."

"Noah," the Risian said, softly, closing the space again as he straightened from stowing the case. She reached across the clothing pile, carefully laying her hand on the guitar. "Start with one of yours? A nursery rhyme, I mean?" He was rambling and, at least this time, telling her things she already knew to some extent. She waited for him to pick up the instrument and then, without ceremony, picked up the shirt she'd left off folding. She resumed the process, but kept her eyes on Noah, offering him an encouraging smile as she did.

"Oh um..." He grimaced with a chuckle. "I'd have to remember one. My Mom didn't sing much... but she read to us. As kids." His brows knitted. He grimaced again. "Ok... kinda remember one. Give me a minute to feel out the chords though." He hopped up on his bed and pat on his clothes for Irynya to sit too. He folded his legs like a pretzel and took up his guitar. And he began to strum a bit... "Fr... hmm... no...." he tried again, a discordant note, "Frer.... nope..."

With a few economical movements Irynya finished folding the shirt and set it on the pile before climbing into the spot next to Noah. With the two of them, the pile of clothes, and the guitar, room was at a premium, but it felt cozy all the same. She shimmied, using her feet to push her backward until she was tucked into the corner, then leaned across her folded legs to pull the remaining shirts to her. A melody, one wholly Risian that her mother had sung frequently when she couldn't--or wouldn't--go to sleep slid into her head as Noah struck a familiar chord. She pressed her lips together, letting the sound resonate very softly in the back of her throat to scratch the itch that memory brought on while still trying not to get in the way of what he was playing.

Noah, who had hunched limberly over his guitar, closed his eyes to feel out the note. He seemed to succeed in a string of them. "Freres Jacques.... Freres Jacques... dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?" He sang softly, evenly, with a pleasant but amateur voice. "Sonnez les matines. Sonnez les matines. Ding- nope." He looked down at a wrong chord and chuckled. "It's French." he said, blinking with a slow blink toward Irynya.

"It's about sleeping?" Iry asked, unhelpfully. "I mean, or waking someone up maybe? What's the last line?" The song itself had a sing-song quality to it. More, she wanted him to continue. It had been weeks since she'd heard him play or sing and found that it was something she'd missed.

Noah's nose wrinkled, "Yeah. Sort of. John is sleeping and his brother is trying to tell him its morning... in the olden times, on Earth, old cities rang bells to signal the time. Before clocks but..." He winced an eye, "They still do it in some cities. Paris... Prague... Rome... New York." He smiled, "Sorry, I need to tune my guitar... and I need a new g-string." Noah's brow arched. "Does Risa have baby songs? Nursery rhymes?"

The song she'd thought of earlier came rushing back into her head in a tumble and for a moment she hesitated. But it was only a moment. Straightening slightly, she settled the half folded shirt she was holding in her lap and closed her eyes. The melody was soft, lulling and though it was her voice that sang, it was almost as if she could hear her mother's tone layered over it.

When the tall trees bend and sway,
And the seabirds fly away,
When the clouds grow dark around,
Run home love, come safe and sound.

When the warm winds start to sigh,
And the waves grow bold and high,
Leave the sand and leave the foam,
Run home love, come safely home.

Storms will fade and skies turn blue,
Waves and sand all wait for you.
When play is done and sunset found,
Run home love, come safe and sound.

She finished the last line, drawing it out slightly the way her mother always had before opening her eyes and seeking out Noah to see what he thought.

Noah smiled at her, pleased. He leaned over and gave her cheek a kiss. "I like it. Thanks for being my friend, Iry." He nudged her with his nose. A soft sigh came.

There wasn't time to give it much thought. All it took was for her to turn her head and even then barely that. They'd kissed before. In fact, kissing Noah had caused no small amount of issue with Kennedy when she'd done it the first time. Still, it felt as natural in that moment as it felt... something else. With a softness that matched the moment she brushed her lips against his, pressing tentatively toward him and then pulling away before leaning her forehead against his. "Thanks for being my friend," she whispered worried her voice would give away the sudden pounding of her heart.

Noah smiled at her and touched their noses again as he accepted and returned the kiss. "Wanna stay over? I dunno if we can both fit in my bunk but we can try..." he chuckled. "Or you can sleep in Shelly's. Just imagine... he comes home and there's a woman in his bed." Noah chuckled. "He'll probably faint."

Something in her stomach flipped at the offer and she grinned despite herself, nudging him back with her own nose. "I'd like that," she said not quite ready to shift away. "But we probably should put the rest of your clothes away first and I should get pajamas or... you know... something..." She was in comfortable clothing, certainly, but it wasn't her usual. "But I'm not sleeping in Sheldon's bed," she added with a laugh. "I'm sure we can figure out sharing.... if that's ok with you?"

Noah nodded, "Yeah, yeah, it was just an offer..." He tilted his head, jokingly, an eye winced, "I was sort of loving the idea of him walking in to a girl in there but..." He shook his head. "We'll be good. He's-he's having a hard time... I don't think he likes Tork much. Anyway." Noah looked at his stuff. "I'll put my guitar away and we-we can finish. Um. But welcome to our- my- my room. I guess." He looked down. "I mean, I have t-shirts if you want one of those." He added.

"It would be chaos for a good 10 minutes," Iry agreed, referring back to Sheldon, "but..." her cheeks flared ever so slightly at the admission, "I'd rather snuggle with you anyway." It was true and this wasn't news. She told herself that even as she watched his face. Her eyes dropped to his lips for the briefest of moments and without thinking her tongue darted along her own, wetting them instinctively. She swallowed. "A t-shirt would be great," she answered, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth and worrying at it.

Noah hopped down at what felt like the accepted invite. He stooped and tapped a drawer under the bed. "Nope... wrong one... jeez..." He ran fingers thru his hair. He hated this change. But it was done. He tapped another and the drawer hushed open. He pulled out a red t-shirt. It was soft, very soft. And had some kind of odd robotic figures on it, seemingly meaning to be rushing out of the t-shirt. "Here you go. The-the bathroom is off to our left. Not sure if we have our living room furniture yet or not." He smacked his lips in a bit of irritation. "Guess I have to establish a new butt groove in the couch.."

Sliding off the bed after him, Irynya accepted the t-shirt, unfurling it so she could examine the figures she'd spotted on the folded bundle. Their shapes made her chuckle. "What is this from?" she asked, tossing it over her shoulder.

"The Transformers," Noah replied.

As if her hands needed someplace to go she reached for the last unfolded shirt and made quick work of it, settling it on top of the pile and patting it awkwardly before turning toward the door leading out to the common area. "Umm... I don't think anyone else was here earlier, but..." she trailed off, eyes darting toward the door. She knew Dravor well enough to feel confident walking around in a t-shirt that wasn't hers, but Ral was still new to her. She sighed, shook her head, and made for the door. "Nevermind," she said before disappearing through the entrance.

Noah understood. "Oh. Um. There's a robe... in the bathroom. Just in case you want it too." he gestured. The door had clunkily opened. Without the privacy shutters down, there was no way Sheldon or Noah would be able to sleep without hearing the other enter. Tonight, when Sheldon came in, that reality likely extended to Irynya. Unless they used the privacy shutters. Noah felt his lower spine shiver at that. He shook it off. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep. And sleeping with a comfortable friend in a new place sounded... nice. Quite nice.

Iry wasn't gone long, returning a few minutes later wrapped in the aforementioned robe and carrying a neatly folded stack of her clothes. For a moment she'd considered sleeping in her bra, something she hated doing, but had been known to do when someone else's comfort necessitated it. But Noah wasn't someone else. He was Noah. And in the end, she'd stripped the band of tight clothe over her head, folding it and setting it between pants and shirt before sliding the immensely soft fabric of the red t-shirt over her head. It had whispered almost silkily across her skin in the way that well worn fabrics did as it settled into place, falling just at the top of her thighs. For a wild moment she wondered if Noah would notice if she took it home with her. Calling it cozy would be an understatement But, of course, he would miss it.

In her absence the remaining piles of folded clothes had disappeared. She scanned the space, looking for similar piles that needed returning before holding up her own. "Are these ok on your desk?" she asked, not bothering to hold the robe closed now that it was unlikely anyone would stumble upon her unannounced.

Noah had also changed. The bare paleness of his chest, the lean but soft-bodied look of him, had paired itself with a plaid pair of pajamas bottoms. "Yeah, yeah it's ok." On his desk was an open intership comm that he had apparently not finished, something about Ops. It was addressed to the Commander.

Setting the bundle to the side on his desk whe glanced, briefly, at the open comm, eyebrows raising as she twisted to look at the pale leanness of her friend. "Work?" She asked curiously before shrugging out of the robe and bundling it neatl on the chair.

Noah twisted his head to look at what Irynya was looking at. He didn't close it. He didn't flinch away from it. "Not... exactly." Noah alluded to. His mouth twisted in to a knot. "It's uh, its on pause. But it's an idea. Uh, I've been thinking about since I passed my exam with Commander Cross." Noah looked Irynya in the eyes. "Maybe... you know... take an occasional break from the Core." His brows raised, "As much as I love it... well... maybe. Like I said, its an idea."

"It's on pause, but you opened it while I got changed?" She asked with a knowing curiosity. "Are you thinking about switching to Ops?" There was surprise in her tone, maybe a bit of disbelief. He loved the computer Core. "Or ..." Iry let the sentence hang so he could fill in the details rather than bending to read the missive on the screen.

"More like..." Noah tilted his head. "Mmmmoonlighting is the old term. Just um... I-I need a change of scene after.... after all that." Noah admitted with a gentle shrug-slap of his thighs. "I'd probably get assigned as night shift, if Commander Cross uses me at all. But um... you know... when I'm not up there... I'll be in the Core." He shrugged, and blinked, "I mean, if I hit send."

"I might have to assign myself some night shifts then," she offered with a grin, though she still lingered near his desk as if unsure. "Do you want me to hit send while I'm over here?" she asked. Not that he needed her to, but if he was hesitating she was certain he shouldn't. Then again, maybe there were other reasons for waiting that weren't occurring to her in the moment.

Noah chewed his lip. He'd smiled at Irynya's assertion she might assign herself to the night shift. "Not yet... I need to add some, um, credentials. And take to Basheer about it. But um..." He blinked. "It's uh... its something." Noah shifted and turned down his covers. "Do you want the wall, or the walkway?" He asked.

"The wall if that's ok," she answered, leaving the desk to stand next to Noah. She slid a hand around his waist the way she had done a dozen times before, tugging him close in a side hug despite his shirtless state before climbing up into the bed, adjusting so that her back was to the wall once she had tucked her legs underneath the folded down blankets. Propping herself on one elbow she grinned up at Noah and then patted the open space next to her.

"Yeah its OK." Noah confirmed. Once she situated herself, Noah sat on the edge of his bed. "Hmm... uh, computer, half lights, red shift twenty percent." With a rounded tone, the computer complied. Time to sleep. It wasn't home... not yet. But at least there were some things that were familiar.

A Post By:

Lieutenant Irynya
Chief Helmswoman

Ensign Noah Balsam
Systems Specialist