(2530-05-28) Mischief and Rings
Summary: After Betsy wakes up a napping Marcus, they have some long over due conversations. The question is popped, if in the most fumbling of ways…
RL Date: 5/28/2020
Related: None
betsy marcus 

Cockpit — Fallen Angel

The cockpit is a little larger than expected, three of four people can fit in it comfortably. The crimson chairs, especially the piloting and captain ones, are comfortable enough they could be slept in without discomfort. The switches and buttons are surrounded by sleek silver and black paneling.


Marcus is taking a nap, the ship is off, and parked, so it's less scary then it might be in deep space. He is lounged in the pilot seat with feet on a console.

While he might be off ship, Bets swore she saw Marcus come back aboard earlier. But he wasn't in their room, the common room, really anywhere she expected him. Of course, the cock pit would have been the logical place to check, but it hadn't crossed her mind until well into her search. She's dragging off one of her preferred cigarellos, having had someone make a tobacco run for her once they got their pay from the medical supplies mission, "Marc-…" She cuts herself off when she sees him asleep, grinning a bit wider and tip toeing over to inspect just how deeply asleep he might be.

Marcus 's pretty deeply asleep at least for the moment. He twitches a few times in his sleep, with elevated heart beat and breathing, his eyes moving quickly behind the eye lids.

The twitching makes her smile a moment, before she realizes he's breathing a touch raggedly too. She knows that pattern, the one they both get caught in a little too often. Thoughts of teasing him all go out the window as she moves closer to perch on the console at his side and reach one hand up to gently cup his cheek, "…Marc… hey… bad dreams… Just a dream…" She murmurs, trying to be as gentle as possible about the wakening.

Marcus comes startled awake his hand moving to the abandon ship alarms as he activates the intercom saying "Reavers We got…" and then he stops looking around and realizing where he is and beginning to blush.

<Fallen Angel> Marcus says, "Evacuate ship alarms go off in the middle of the day for no reasons and the announcement comes over the intercom "Reavers we got reav.." before the alarm stops and everything goes back to normal"

Bets doesn't know the consoles nearly as well up here as he does, so she doesn't realize what's happening until the alarms start abruptly going off. Her eyss shoot wide and she curses, jerking forward to try and kill the noise, but he's already doing it. "Gorram… I… shit, I'm sorry. I didn't even… think of… waking you up here would be bad. Shit…"

Marcus looks back at you sheepishly, "It's good to see you up and around….sorry….I….must have dozed off"

"… I've been nearly in one piece a bit now. Captain even put me in charge of the medical supply sale so… it's suck it up and work. Can't be a layabout forever, hurt or not. Besides, we're both used to pain… we made it through basic." Betsy teases him gently, though her lighter words are slightly betrayed by the concern behind her voice. "You…sleepin' okay lately? I mean, no worse than the usual…" She motions to the console where he'd accidentally set off the alarm.

Marcus smiles, "I wasn't sleeping that well while you were in the infirmary. I.." He blushes again "I missed you, and well went a few sleepless nights. And since you got out. well I know your still healing, so I figured I would nap here to keep from….jostling you too much, give you some space and all"

That just earns him a firm smirk and Betsy stands again. She's still a little slow moving, but that's mainly the lingering effects of an abdomen wound and not any actual danger. She reaches out, grabbing his fingertips and pulling his hand over to rest on her side, right near where she was injured. Still a light bandage there, but she doesn't pull away from his touch. "If I'm well enough to go out peddling illegal medical supplies, I'm sure as shit well enough to get a good night's sleep with the man I love. I'm not some breakable doll, Marc… it was a few bad days. It's passed. I'm *fine*."

Marcus says, "wait…what…your not a china doll? " He looks shocked, "but your so pretty and perfect, with that procelin skin and cute little button nose. " He shakes his head, "I thought you were fragile breakable glass….""

"…You keep that up and I'm going to take it as a sign that you WANT me to shoulder toss you onto your back and pin you to the ground just to prove how not breakable I am, Marcus Kincaid. You know I'll do it too. I've pinned you down for less." Betsy is grinning, mostly teasing, but there's a slight crouch to her body and she's shifting weight so if she DOES need to toss him over her shoulder, she does it on her non-injured side. If he calls her bluff, she'll take it.

Marcus waggles his eyebrows "Don't threaten me with a good time" He grins a little watching her crouching a bit, "By the way…did you just say that you loved me?"

She's about a second from maybe actually flipping him, even if her side would probably be very unhappy, when he asks that question and Betsy just blinks. Did she? She did, didn't she? It just came out and now here they are and, for a moment, she's completely off balance. "Ah… I mean… yes… I… I did say that… and it's not… wrong…"

Marcus takes the beat to charge, surging up he pushes her back, toward the wall, attempting to pin her there while keeping his own weight off her bad side. Once there he keeps her off balance for a few more moments by snogging her passionately, his lips on hers.

The kiss isn't really what she expected so, for this one, he'll win the round. Hopefully no crew come looking for the sound of what that tumble was as Betsy collides into the wall and is pinned there, happily distracted by the kiss that comes a moment later. She almost laughs, but her breath is taken and she's more than happy to sink into the kiss against him, arms coming up to wrap around the backs of his shoulders.

Marcus breaks the kiss after several heartbeats, still holding her there he looks into her eyes, "Ellie…I love you…I" he looks down and then back up at her and bites his lip and smiles.

Well, that was a little less terrifying than him distracting her with a kiss and those very small, very big words not being said in turn. Bets doesn't even complain when he uses her old nick name, smile spreading a bit warmer across her now-flushed features. "…I… really do love you and can't believe I hadn't said it before but… we're both idiots sometimes."

Marcus smiles, "Your a Jar-head, I am an Egg-Head, one of us has idiot in the job description." He winks, and gingerly slides his hands down her sides, careful of the wound, "I picked up something in the market for you."

That earns him a particularly pointed look, though she doesn't pull out of his hands and actually lets her own creep down, daring to hike up the edge of his shirt and search for some bare skin over his ribs. No one else was *due* in the cockpit, right? "You are very lucky you're handsome I know what kind of idiot you are, lover, because that sounded like you just called us jar-heads idiots. But…I'll forgive. I take bribes. What'd you get me?"

Marcus bats a hand at her probing hands near his waist, but more playfully then to stop them, not actualy keeping her from her quest, his hand slides into his pocket and as he pulls something small out, small enough to palm, and keep her from seeing it. He looks at her long and hard for a few moments, "You don't have any heart conditions currently do you?"

Betsy has fully got one hand around his lower ribs, staring to explore his back and reach around to goose his rear end for a moment, but then he's slipping something small into her hand and that is quite a question to ask. She blinks, not quite opening her palm yet, "…uh… not that I'm aware, no… what in the worlds are you up to?" And she gets fully distracted from groping him, looking down to her palm now to open it.

In her hand is a small obsidian band simple, stylish, there appears to be some writing engraved on the inside and it seems to twitch in her hand, as if magnetically attracted, weakly, toward the metal in her outfit.

"Oh…" Now, it didn't mean that the ring was THAT ring, maybe he just was giving her a nice, pretty ring. But they had the discussion already, if for practical reasons. Betsy's teasing defensiveness has now entirely softened, shoulders easing down as she carefully shifts around the strangely magentic ring. She holds it up to her eyes, looking over the engraving…"It's… it's beautiful."

Marcus takes her moment of softening to slide out of her grip, and drop to one knee, looking up at her, his hand taking hers in his.

Oh. Oh. It *is* that ring. That's probably why he asked about heart conditions. Betsy blinks, staring down at him as he sinks to one knee, in the lonely, quiet cockpit of their surprisingly warm new home. All smart remarks have entirely left her brain for a few moments and she blinks against a hint of stinging behind her lashes. It must be dusty in here. She does let him take her hand. "…Marcus…" She breathes out, but is lost for what to say, how to encompass the strange amount of feelings tight in her throat now.

Marcus says, "Ellie….will you…promise…to make your problems my problems….to always have my back, and always let me have yours, to be partners, for now…and forever, to make me…way to fraking happy to put into words?"

"…You didn't… actually… say *the word* you know. I was going to make my problems yours for a damn long time anyway, but…" Betsy rasps out, trying to cut some of that emotion with a drive-by at a joke, but there's too much heart behind her words to really take the gravity out of the situation. "B-but… but if you mean… married partners, instead of just… well, you know… Gorramit. Yes. Of… of course, yes. Shit…" And no matter how hard she tried to hold it back, two tears actually escape, cutting down her flushed cheeks. Happy tears, from the smile on her lips. She isn't good at words like this. But she does give him her hand.

Marcus blinks "Wait…I didnt actually" He did didn't he, he goes over the whole thing in his mind and realizes he smegged it up, "Oh…no…I didn't actually…." He looks sheepish as he stands up, still holding her hand, "Do you want me to start over?"

"Oh you idiot, just marry me, please?" Betsy laughs, the crackle of happy tears on the edge of her voice, but she wraps arms tightly around him then and pulls him into an even deeper kiss now, something far easier than words and filled with as much triumph as the kiss is hunger.

Marcus says, "Well…I mean…if your asking…I guess I could…." He smiles and kisses back, his arms around her as he fumbles to find the ring and slide it on her finger, she can feel some sort of etching on the inside."

That gets a slight roll of her eyes and a laugh against his mouth, but Betsy wasn't going to let either of their fumblings ruin this moment. She pauses just enough that he can finish slipping the ring onto her finger, and then it's an incredibly deep kiss between them. She melts into the kiss, actually relaxing, savoring it, letting the mess of the last few weeks just disappear. When she finally pulls back enough to breathe, she whispers softly, "Yes. I'll happily marry you. And then rest… we'll figure out as we go."

Marcus nods and nuzzles your neck, "So thats a no to the sham marriage for green card purposes?" He chuckles softly, "I had this whole plan for asking you to, I picked up the ring, we were going to get chinese and sit in the park and then I was going to spring it on you."

"…and I had to go get hunt down and shot… and you dislocating your shoulder jumping off a *building*. I… doubt I could have cocked that up any more had I tried. But…" Betsy smiles a bit more and pulls back just enough to slip the ring off so she can see whatever it was she felt against her skin. She leans up, studying the numbers in the light. "…what is…" She blinks. Something about the last set of numbers. And then it hits her, the backwards year making sense a moment later. "…when we first met. That first…shore leave. Shit. You remembered."

Marcus smiles, "Well…I kinda cheated, it was my mom's birthday that night, first one I ever spent away from her…." He grins, "I remember being super lonely, and seeing this super hot marine with green eyes and legs that wouldn't quit, I went right up to her…and asked her out. And she threw a drink in my face. And then you laughed at me from the next table."

There is *complete* confusion in her blue-grays as he mentions green eyes and she tilts her head, but the follow up there comes quickly and she does laugh again, the same laugh from that night, freer and more relaxed than she's been in ages for just a moment. "You looked a little ridiculous with your hair dripping and there was a strawberry stuck in it. I couldn't HELP but laugh." Betsy smiles wider, slipping the ring back on and flexing with it warmly on her hand, getting used to the new, hugging weight even as she sinks a bit closer against him once more.

Marcus nods slowly, "I didn't even know the strawberry was there till you picked it out of my hair and ate it. And then you bought me a drink and helped me get cleaned up, and the two of us hit on girls together for the rest of the night."

"I shoulda left it there but who the hell can resist a boozy strawberry?" Bets asks with a wider smile, her arms lazily wrapping around the back of his shoulders as she leans into every inch of his touch she can get without going so close that she loses eye contract. She wants to see his face now. She can't stop smiling like an idiot herself. "And that was a good night… I was having too much fun hittin' on the girls with you to actually go home with one of them." She laughs, "I guess that maybe should have been a hint."

Marcus leans down and kisses her again, softly, tenderly, before returning his eyes to hers. "It was 6 months before I realized you didn't /just/ like girls and by then…well " He shrugs, "I figured no one as awesome, intelligent, though as nails, and down right god damn gorgeous like you would ever be interested in a pasty faced math nerd like me"

"Well, in general, I had a penchant for the female figure. But I guess I just hadn't found my type yet to hold interest long enough and it happens to be nerds." Betsy grins wider, leaning up to steal one more kiss from him. "…if we didn't only pass on shore leave, this woulda been… a lot faster in the making. But then we might both be stuck there and fuck that. I think we got here… just when we needed." Her expression goes a bit more somber, just for a heartbeat, "And… so, no. Not just for a green card."

Marcus nods slowly, and sighs softly, resting his head against your shoulder a moment, "It feels like we are moving fast…but I know that its just….' He kisses your neck, "We do need to figure this alliance stuff out though."

The woman's arms wrap close around him, tugging him nearer into her chest and shoulder, just happy to wrap him up in as much of her as her cheek and nose rest in that careless, dark hair, breathing a bit deeper of his scent. "We've known each other for years. This is… new but… It's us. We know it works." The comment about the Alliance stuff gets a deeper sigh, "I… should get hair dye. Maybe some glasses. Change enough the profile is different…"

Marcus says, "ohhh…dark hair and glasses? Like a nice Librarian cosplay?" He grins against her, "That I can get into I think. Should I pick you up a pencil skirt and a blazer too?""

That earns him a firm swat across the upper shoulder, pulling back enough to smirk and stare, even if it's not the worst idea. No one would recognize her, "Don't *push* it, mister. Just… something that doesn't look like blonde with side shave in baggy dark clothes. I think I can find a happy medium." Betsy's been clearly giving this some thought, going stir crazy stuck on the ship.

Marcus says, "I mean I could go costume shopping and we could try out a dozen different fanatas…I mean disguises if you like. See which ones your more comfortable in?" He nods seriously, "Goth, Kimono, police officer, nurse, bellephoran private school girl uniform….""

That just gets him a flat, deeply smirking STARE that says she's probably contemplating finishing that shoulder flip now, or at least figuring some way to shut him up that isn't homicide considering she'd like to be a wife before she makes herself a widow. "You are so, so gorram lucky I said yes already." She reaches up and, instead, horribly messes up his hair. "No private school uniforms. I'll just steal your clothes for a while until we know it's not that bad. Should… maybe swing by the clinic anyway. Make certain this still hurts because it's supposed to hurt, not because it's… more fucked up than I thought." Probably the only thing that has stopped her from tackling him, still in more pain than she'd care to admit.

Marcus 's eyes have a mischevious sparkle to them that tells her he is totally not serious about any of that, and that he knows good and well that her injuries are the only reason he has gotten away with it so far. As she ruffles his hair he chuckles, "Oh Alliance Naval officer uniform, that could be fun too"

"…I think I got enough Alliance uniforms for the rest of my gorram life. As… tempting as it is to see if they'd actually be that damn oblivious." Betsy admits with a husky laugh, still playing fingertips through his hair as she considers how much trouble he's actually in. The glow of the ring and everything seems to have earned him a few mischief points.

Marcus says, "So yeah a trip to the clinic" He nods, "So which way are we going with your hair, trying to grow it out to cover the shave, or taking it all of….or do we want to go wig?""

A little whimper escapes her throat as he asks about the hair. And he JUST shaved it for her. She sighs, "I should…grow it out. Fuck. I hate it. But… the tattoo is pretty damn obvious and… " Betsy knows the logic there, she's just going to pout about it for a while, it seems. "…could wig. Would be a pain in the ass. I'd be able to feel like… Me here, though."

Marcus says, "I could get you a purple, maybe a hot pink pixie cut, a tight librarian bun, I know some people who can get some high quality ones. Do you prefer real human hair or Synth? Honeslty I tend to avoid the real because that are very ethically sourced.""

The fact that he's got this amount of information on hand makes her blink, a cross of surprise brushing her eyes as her gray gaze narrows just a bit. "You… you've really been thinkin' this over, haven't you? I don't really give a shit, as long as they aren't shootin' at me. Synth is fine. Whatever you think'll look good… That's fine. I guess wigs would be way easier, really, in the long run. Can just keep changing if they mark me again."

Marcus nods, "I have an old friend in House Pearl she can aquire a few things on the down low and won't ask questions. Her ordering them also won't raise any suspicioun or trace back to us. I have been…thinking on it for a while. We can get some good make up kits, we could even get a false nose, or chin, or fake mustache if you prefer. I just want to know how many options you want?"

A moment of slightly surprised silence follows those words and she sinks back, leaning against his console and staring up at him in touched, warm shock. Betsy's smile is honest a second later, not teasing. He's probably just earned himself a whole BUNCH of mischief points. "You've been… better at thinkin' about this than I have. I think we'll start with a wig and a bit of make up, see if it works, go from there. I think the worst has died down. I'll be fine. I promise."

Marcus says, "I'll get word sent over to Allie and have her get the order started. Then I can arrange a liason appointment and pick it up. Two or three days and we will have the first set of supplies for you.""

She takes his hand with her newly bedecked one, pulling fingertips to her mouth to kiss his palm gently before giving a tight, loving squeeze. Betsy isn't all that good with words when it comes to sentimental stuff like this, but touch can tell a lot. "…two or three days sounds good. I've been patient this long, I can be a bit longer. … Thank you."

Marcus smiles softly, "I am not sure about the fake nose thing though….I mean your adorable little pig nose is like my favorite part of you"

And that's that. Betsy stares at him and there's a good, teasing but not exactly gentle, swat to his stomach, "Soon as that doc lady gives the thumbs up, you are in so much gorram trouble." She swats him again for good measure. "BUT… before you dig your grave deeper, come on, let's get you into an actual bed? You must be half delirious laying down the foundations for this much of your own justified homicide. You have heard I'm a murderer, right?"

Marcus says, "Wait did I say pig? I meant Pug right? Or was it Pixie?" He smiles a bit, "Maybe it is just the sleep deprivation talking…" He wraps an arm around you and lets you lead him toward the door."

She can't be TOO mad at him, he's still allowed to get that arm in place and the two of them walk back towards their shared cabin, but Betsy's smirk says he's still in a bit of trouble, plotting things in the back of her head for when she's feeling 100 percent. "I'm not certain Pug is much better, but you're getting a mometary pass until you get a solid six hours sleep and maybe a meal. Come on, handsome. We're sharin' a bed for a reason. Let's use it."

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