So he does, helmet under his arm, a grim but resigned expression on his face. He hasn't come down with a tablet, having assumed there won't be much for him to say.
Amos can communicate with the mute as well as anyone. He can't communicate mute, but most people can't. Anyway, it's all about facial expressions.
Amos is already in his suit as well, helmet sitting on an unused workbench. He has a tranq syringe in hand, but before that, he register's Gideon's expression.
His voice isn't gentle, but neither is it harsh. "Hey, Teach. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Gideon shrugs, one corner of his mouth tugging up ironically. Without words, he can't get it entirely across, but he isn't overly concerned with the possibility of anything happening to him. As he'd told Holden, he'd rather come through this alive and unnoticed by the MCRN, but the possibility of a different outcome remains.
Better, probably, to be able to live with that. There's no demand to wake up after.
Giving Amos a nod, he reaches out and claps his hand on the man's shoulder, just for a moment.
Amos accepts that with a nod, and reaches out, his hand finding the back of Gideon's neck, the dark hair there. He brings him in, their foreheads touching.
"We're not gonna have comms down there, so this is how I'll talk to you."
And then he lets go, putting on his helmet, holding out the syringe for Gideon.
Gideon stills as he's touched, allowing himself to be drawn in. Inhaling has gotten more difficult, his chest having gone tight sometime in the moments after Amos' hand settled in the curls at the nape of his neck. His eyes close as their foreheads touch.
When Amos lets go, Gideon's expression is blank, a studious emptiness he hasn't felt the need to use since he reached the Belt. He takes the syringe and sits down on a crate of tools. Into his thigh it goes. As he waits for it to work, he watches Amos, determined patience in his dark eyes.
Absently, Amos notes that Gideon has long eyelashes. It's not a combat practicality, though, so the thought is shuffled aside. He'll pull it up later, when he's alone and tired.
At the moment, he makes work of securing Gideon's helmet, all practicality. He locks the outer doors, and lets the room depressurize so they can enter the outer battery, where loose wires hang and the ship's internals lie open and naked.
Gideon lets himself be fastened into his helmet, his breath growing increasingly even as the sedative begins to move through his blood. They stand and begin to walk to the outer battery.
As they cross the threshold, Gideon catches Amos around the waist, feeling himself slumping into unconsciousness even as he walks.
Amos hefts him up, lifting a man of Gideon's size easily. He doesn't say anything. Gideon won't be able to hear him, won't be able to hear anything in a minute or so. Sweet dreams, asshole.
He finds a comfortable place to sit it out, letting Gideon rest nearby. Amos arranges his body carefully, so he won't wake up cramped, but there's really no guarantee of that, is there? The outer batt wasn't made for napping. It's where you go to do emergency maintenance, or be a dirty little spy like that shit Kenzo. Really wish he could have punched his ticket back then...
But that feels like a lifetime ago, and the here and now is so much better. Amos looks down at the sleeping Gideon, and he waits, letting his mind wander. Gideon's soft hair, his quiet nature, the delicacy of his hands... A thought forms in the dingier parts of Amos' mind, and he wonders at it. He generally doesn't make passes at people on the ship; if things to to fuck, you're stuck with them. On the other hand, Gideon is always on a knife's edge of worry, and anything to put the man at ease is good for the crew at large. He considers it, turning the thought over in his mind.
Eventually, Naomi makes the signal light flare. They're out of danger. Amos picks Gideon up, and takes him to his quarters, taking off both their helmets once they're in a pressurized area.
Gideon sleeps without dreaming, twitching under the sedation occasionally. The rest of the confrontation occurs someplace beyond them both, everything over long before he wakes.
When he does wake, it's in his bunk, rubbing a gloved hand groggily over his eyes.
Amos takes his time, running over what happened and what repairs they'll have to make. There wasn't a fight, and they didn't have to do any kind of burn, so that's all coming out roses. The problem's mostly in how some of the interior lighting is still fucked, but that was fucked before Amos spent two hours in the belly of a ship.
Which is to say, he takes a nap of his own; he'll worry about it later.
He thinks to send a message before he sleeps. It's to Gideon, the only person he's been keeping his hand terminal on for lately.
Everything's OK Come see me when you're awake Wake me up if I'm still out
The message is more reassuring than he'd like to admit; he doesn't regret at all the fact that he reads it alone in his bunk, thinking hazily of the weight of Amos' arm catching him up as he began to lose his balance.
Gideon doesn't go to find Amos until he's certain he's fully awake. Under the circumstances, he'd prefer not to learn the details of their escape from Mars' grasp while still fighting sleepiness. On his way to the other man's bunk, however, he's stopped by Holden--and has the eerie sense that the captain might have been waiting for him to emerge--and caught up in a conversation.
By the time he actually cracks Amos' door and peers inside, he's got the general gist of what happened.
Which is good, because it means Amos is awake. He's working on an aux battery for the central lighting, hoping making it externally will make it easier to wire later. Sitting on his bunk, he's poking at the metal box, trying to soothe the wiring in slowly. It's off, so he doesn't need rubber gloves, thank fuck.
He looks up as Gideon walks in. "Hey, Teach. Feeling better?"
When it's clear he won't be interrupting Amos' sleep, Gideon slips inside. (Had he still been sleeping, it would have been tempting to let him continue; Gideon doesn't doubt he could have used the rest, by the end of things.) At the question, he nods.
For this, he brought his hand terminal. "I'm informed that the Rocinante remains ours, at least for the moment."
Amos nods. "And we're not giving you up unless you wanna go. Holden's pretty serious about that shit."
He flutes another wire through another node, securing it quickly. He speaks pleasantly, voice even and casual, as though discussing the weather or favorite foods.
"When I was in there, I got to thinking... Should probably blow you. If you want."
The things he might respond with--of Holden, of his nonexistent desire to remove himself to Mars--flee his mind in an instant. Amos' offer passes through him visibly with a little start. For a moment, he simply stares at him, brows lifting.
"I believe I misheard you," he types, watching the words a little more carefully than usual. "It sounded like you just propositioned me."
When he left his own bunk, he hadn't expected to brace himself for an offer of oral sex, let alone the offer rescinded a moment later. It's more action than he's seen in some time--like the old line from awards ceremonies of any type, it's an honor simply to be considered. But it's a surprise.
"This seems sudden," he simply says, aware that it isn't a yes, let's forget this and that Amos will likely realize as much himself.
Amos shrugs slightly. "I been thinking about it a while," because he has. Everyone on the crew is attractive in their own right, but everyone is off limits for very obvious reasons. Gideon is the only one who exists in that grey area, and Amos... well, it's been a while since they've docked anywhere.
Gideon doesn't have a ready answer to that, the idea that there might be days or weeks behind the offer he's been given. And while he doesn't consider himself especially driven by baser needs, it's been a long time for him as well.
And yet...he looks at Amos, whose approach to sex, as in all things, has a certain mechanical simplicity to it. "Still intent on forcing me to unwind?"
This, finally, makes him look up from his work. There is no anger in his expression, no shock or lust, just a dead-eyed seriousness. "I'm not forcing you to do anything."
He should have expected this. Gideon always wants reasons for everything, to pick at every nit in a conversation until it's been fully dissected. What the hell kind of spy was he?
(The kind they keep in special rooms where the lights don't work. He knows that.)
Amos huffs out a sigh, a learned behavior meant to mimic nonexistent frustration. "I don't offer to do shit I don't wanna do," he says, "and, yeah, maybe you calming the hell down would be a plus, but..."
Here, he rearranges his grin into something toothier, with a bit more bite to it. He's seen what effect this one tends to have. People tend to like it, or they leave; either's fine.
"I got this theory your legs'll shake when you come. Wanna see how that works out."
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better suit up. the outer batt isn't pressurized
and I can't keep him from doing shit. That's Naomi's job
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Then I'll make the same request of Naomi. They'll take everything you have, if you let them.
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I'm in the mechanical deck. meet me there with your vac suit
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Amos is already in his suit as well, helmet sitting on an unused workbench. He has a tranq syringe in hand, but before that, he register's Gideon's expression.
His voice isn't gentle, but neither is it harsh. "Hey, Teach. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
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Better, probably, to be able to live with that. There's no demand to wake up after.
Giving Amos a nod, he reaches out and claps his hand on the man's shoulder, just for a moment.
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"We're not gonna have comms down there, so this is how I'll talk to you."
And then he lets go, putting on his helmet, holding out the syringe for Gideon.
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When Amos lets go, Gideon's expression is blank, a studious emptiness he hasn't felt the need to use since he reached the Belt. He takes the syringe and sits down on a crate of tools. Into his thigh it goes. As he waits for it to work, he watches Amos, determined patience in his dark eyes.
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At the moment, he makes work of securing Gideon's helmet, all practicality. He locks the outer doors, and lets the room depressurize so they can enter the outer battery, where loose wires hang and the ship's internals lie open and naked.
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As they cross the threshold, Gideon catches Amos around the waist, feeling himself slumping into unconsciousness even as he walks.
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He finds a comfortable place to sit it out, letting Gideon rest nearby. Amos arranges his body carefully, so he won't wake up cramped, but there's really no guarantee of that, is there? The outer batt wasn't made for napping. It's where you go to do emergency maintenance, or be a dirty little spy like that shit Kenzo. Really wish he could have punched his ticket back then...
But that feels like a lifetime ago, and the here and now is so much better. Amos looks down at the sleeping Gideon, and he waits, letting his mind wander. Gideon's soft hair, his quiet nature, the delicacy of his hands... A thought forms in the dingier parts of Amos' mind, and he wonders at it. He generally doesn't make passes at people on the ship; if things to to fuck, you're stuck with them. On the other hand, Gideon is always on a knife's edge of worry, and anything to put the man at ease is good for the crew at large. He considers it, turning the thought over in his mind.
Eventually, Naomi makes the signal light flare. They're out of danger. Amos picks Gideon up, and takes him to his quarters, taking off both their helmets once they're in a pressurized area.
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When he does wake, it's in his bunk, rubbing a gloved hand groggily over his eyes.
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Which is to say, he takes a nap of his own; he'll worry about it later.
He thinks to send a message before he sleeps. It's to Gideon, the only person he's been keeping his hand terminal on for lately.
Everything's OK
Come see me when you're awake
Wake me up if I'm still out
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Gideon doesn't go to find Amos until he's certain he's fully awake. Under the circumstances, he'd prefer not to learn the details of their escape from Mars' grasp while still fighting sleepiness. On his way to the other man's bunk, however, he's stopped by Holden--and has the eerie sense that the captain might have been waiting for him to emerge--and caught up in a conversation.
By the time he actually cracks Amos' door and peers inside, he's got the general gist of what happened.
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He looks up as Gideon walks in. "Hey, Teach. Feeling better?"
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For this, he brought his hand terminal. "I'm informed that the Rocinante remains ours, at least for the moment."
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He flutes another wire through another node, securing it quickly. He speaks pleasantly, voice even and casual, as though discussing the weather or favorite foods.
"When I was in there, I got to thinking... Should probably blow you. If you want."
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"I believe I misheard you," he types, watching the words a little more carefully than usual. "It sounded like you just propositioned me."
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"This seems sudden," he simply says, aware that it isn't a yes, let's forget this and that Amos will likely realize as much himself.
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And yet...he looks at Amos, whose approach to sex, as in all things, has a certain mechanical simplicity to it. "Still intent on forcing me to unwind?"
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(The kind they keep in special rooms where the lights don't work. He knows that.)
Amos huffs out a sigh, a learned behavior meant to mimic nonexistent frustration. "I don't offer to do shit I don't wanna do," he says, "and, yeah, maybe you calming the hell down would be a plus, but..."
Here, he rearranges his grin into something toothier, with a bit more bite to it. He's seen what effect this one tends to have. People tend to like it, or they leave; either's fine.
"I got this theory your legs'll shake when you come. Wanna see how that works out."
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