RP: In Which Mohammed Goes to the Mountain Characters: Jaime, Mal Time/Date: Sunday evening Location: His room Warnings/Rating: Jaime's mouth Summary: Jaime goes to bother her favorite soldier Status: Complete
Jaime had seen him -- of course -- when they'd all come home. She'd seen him at meals, but she hadn't really had a chance to see him. When she was inclined to track him down, he wasn't unbusy, and then she was catching up with other people, like Lily. She'd regaled the red-head with several stories about her attempts to seduce Milton, and Lily had laughed so hard at one of them, there'd been tears. Jaime was exceptionally proud of that one.
As it was, Sunday night rolled around and she had nothing pressing to do. They hadn't come up with anything for her to find, and it turned out the tecchies had been out to scramble something, and apparently they'd managed to fuck the enemy's network pretty hard, so the threat level was currently low, with no missions planned for the immediate future. Jaime was pleased by that, though she reasoned it was only a matter of time before they was either enemy retaliation at one of their outposts, or the front lines was sent out as a precautionary measure.
With nothing to do, there was pretty much only one thing on her mind: visiting people. All right, all right. Visiting a person in particular. She'd armed herself with a small bottle of oil just in case she could sucker him into taking his shirt off. She'd only managed it a time or two before, but those had been very exciting nights for her.
Making her way to Mal's room, she rapped her knuckles against his door before she leaned against it. "Room service," she called through, hoping he was in and not in the shower where he wouldn't be able to hear her.