A Life Unseen

Posted on Wed Feb 15th, 2023 @ 11:06am by Staff Sergeant Nathanial "Nate" Cusack & Warrant Officer Iryna Voznyuk
Edited on on Wed Feb 15th, 2023 @ 12:06pm

Mission: Sojurn
Location: Middle of a snowfield
Timeline: Day 333
8311 words - 16.6 OF Standard Post Measure

The sudden impact of invasive coldness ought to have been enough to provoke Nate beyond the point of any hope of return. Whatever the impetus, however understandable it might have been to be this upset at the end of a long succession of shitty things he'd been forced to deal with, the marine's temper remained his Achilles' heel and there had been easily a dozen things he could have done to vent his spleen that didn't involve striking another officer. That's what leadership would say, what Voznyuk was undoubtedly slipping on her ice suit once again to hurl at him. There hadn't been a damn day in his life where anyone had thought to question their own role in crisis escalation, so why would anyone start now?

As the snowball hit, however, Cusack found himself suddenly giving in. He'd performed this particular dance before, endured the provocation so that some asshole with a control problem could justify writing him up. Throw snowballs at Cusack until he gives you reason to throw the book at him instead. Tell him to fuck off and then chase him halfway across a planet to push him around and hope he goes off. Well, as much as he'd enjoyed dancing with her, this wasn't one Nate was inclined to follow through with. His anger seethed but he pushed it down, just below the surface far enough so that when he turned to face her, he was all steel and concrete and not the raining hailstones of flame and fury.

"What do you want from me?" Despite balling his hands into fists by his side, Nate forced his posture to relax enough to back down. "You wanted me to leave, so I left. Did I not go far enough for you? After my uniform now? Because you can have it if wiping your hands means that much." He wasn't wearing anything symbolic enough to rip off and throw at her feet but the set of Nate's jaw lent weight to the threat that suggested it was more than just letting off steam. Something inside him had flipped over. "They probably need someone to shovel roads around here, right? Maybe if you negotiate properly, you could get yourself a toad to replace me."

Iryna watched him sprouting out utter nonsense in his anger that she had a hard time following it all. She had followed because in the instant that he had left she had realised who he would be gunning for and that she needed to stop him to avoid him once and for all being thrown into the brig. She stomped across the snow and grabbed his jacket down to her and pressed her lips to his. It was hard and not at all what a first kiss was meant to be but he was angry and someone had to do something unexpected to change it.

“Shut up… I followed you to keep you from making a mess and to tell you I was wrong…” She whispered. “I was wrong and I want nothing from you.” She repeated what he needed to hear more than anything else.

If he somehow, in his travels, which were rather obscure and strange these days, ever found a way to push his lifespan beyond the comprehensible and lived from that point on another thousand years, Nate doubted he'd ever understand women. The kiss had the desired effect, in that he was instantly too dumbfounded to speak, and the slight relaxation of his hands suggested that there were other explosions ricocheting around his brain that settled his outrage or at least reset it to a low simmer. A permanent frown was etched into his forehead and he blinked as she spoke, hardly able to focus on the fact that she'd just admitted fault because there was no way to make sense of her last statement in the face of everything it had just followed.

"This doesn't look like wanting nothing."

There was a gruffness to his tone that betrayed the fractured nature of Nate's mood. Still angry, still hurt, still poised and prepped with defensive barriers raised because the words out of the other marine's mouth were fashioned in the shape of a hand's shove against the chest to keep pushing him away. All this just to tell him nothing had changed? That despite the false accusations, he still had nothing she wanted? Nate held himself still, stiff and withdrawn within the circle of shared intimacy. There was no point in finding any benefit in something that was about to get yanked away again.

Iryna nodded, she very much was wanting something but she was very much aware of how angry he was and how conflicted she was in trying to be brave and not run away. "Oh, I want lots. I have since that dance but right this second you are pretty angry at me, I would not blame you for storming off again and I would let you. But you owe me nothing." She said slowly taking her hands back from the points on his jacket she had used to tug him down to her and flattened them back out again.

One thousand years, ten thousand years, the rest of eternity...

As much as Nate could be accused of being abrasive at times, unafraid to be the lone fish swimming back against the flow of water, he could hardly be accused of preferring conflict. Already, the hand that had struck the back of Jamesson's head was swelling purple around the knuckles and the sheer certainty of his outrage was dwindling somewhat as the lack of struggle from the other side left no room for further escalation. Voznyuk was being contradictive as hell, the words out of her mouth now far better suited to their earlier conversation, where the attempt at honesty would have permitted a string of admissions that prevented misunderstandings in the first place. Now, no matter how rare it was to have to deal with an apology and the rebound of remorse, Nate still couldn't quite shake off the defensiveness of being misjudged in the first place. He remained still, responsive enough to have allowed her to bring him to a stop, though the flex of fingers by his side betrayed his reluctance to reach out with any caress of his own despite the urge to reignite previous attempts.

"Just tell me why," he eventually asked, his tone an odd mixture of stubbornly distant and reluctantly vulnerable. "You can flip-flop all you want; I gave you a chance to say this earlier and all you could throw in my face was a 'thanks but no thanks' based on behaviour you must think I'm capable of. So, I just want to know why you thought I was that guy."

It should have been an easy question to answer because she knew the answer but the words were not quite as easy to come out of her mouth as she would have liked. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she stuttered through her words. "Because that is the type of guy I seem to attract." It was as simple as that she realised; she took a step back giving him a little bit of space. It was her issue and definitely not his, why she hid behind the ice maiden as the Marines referred to her cold and untouchable persona.

And that was the trouble with past trauma and repetitive cycles, the damaging ebb and flow of self-fulfilling prophesy where you wound up digging your own grave just because you'd jumped the gun and wrongly anticipated its need; everyone was dragging around some version of their own hell. As much as the clamour of his own abusive track record continued to take its toll on Nate's sense of self-esteem, the final arrival at the core of what had driven Voznyuk to plough right through his reputation didn't leave Nate any room to pursue ongoing condemnation. It was too relatable, too loaded with the past transgressions of a bunch of bastards that probably did share more in common with him than was comfortable. And though he was literally made up of rough edges, the part of Nate Cusack that did its best not to be a selfish prick, that was willing to walk into a bar and punch a guy twice his size in the head on behalf of another's best interests, wanted to strangle whoever it was that had taught her to expect second best.

His hands found his hips, in need of a place to anchor to quell their incessant fidgeting, and Nate huffed with frustration as he disengaged eye contact and dragged his gaze away to glare at a snow dune. Empathy was a heck of thing to throw at a guy, the emotional equivalent of a bucket of cold water, but dislodging him even for a moment from the self-destructive internal stand-off with his father and anyone who, by proxy, currently wanted to replace the man's perpetual judgement, was just the wedge that was needed to finally separate the hothead's ability to think from his over-reactive capacity to act stupidly. It was a lot harder to stay angry at someone who was also seeing things through the lens of some jerk's shitty attitude.

"You must have met some pretty stupid guys then."

It was an olive branch finally, a statement delivered with the visible slump of shoulders that finally released a degree of tension. The relenting of hyper-defensiveness, a sliver of light between the cracks that saw him shaking his head wearily before finally forcing himself to look at her. Eye contact became instant connection, intense and powerful and complicated all at the same time because even his earlier intrigue hadn't prepared Nate for having this conversation with someone who'd done a sterling job of convincing everyone she had no time for feelings.

Iryna scratched at her the back of her neck as she waited for him to say anything even if it was to tell her to fuck off and just let him leave the ship and become a street sweeper again. It was unusual as he usually had plenty to say to her good and bad. She did not buckle under his gaze as it turned on her but she certainly felt like she could have if she had been a lesser woman and not at prepared to face angry people or anything that came her way. "Yeah...A few," She did not think it would be a good time to add much more to that assessment of her previous relationships or encounters. It stung deep enough that she was sharing then and there then without having it more psychoanalysed. She glanced away again before returning her gaze to him. "I should not have judged you by their standards." She added biting her lip hard to stop anything else spilling out.

An exhalation of air dispelled an audible release of tension as Nate closed his eyes and shook his head, weaving it back and forth as he tried to get a handle on where the hell they'd ended up. If there was any capacity to rewind and extract honesty from the mess they'd created, Nate probably would have confessed that he'd not really expected her to find him a long-term prospect, for what amounted to much the same reasons she was describing now. He had made a conscious decision to remain on good terms with Diaz, whose desire not to pursue a relationship had at least managed to stop shy of targeting him as an undesirable prospect, but there was undoubtedly a string of failed attempts to negotiate the difference between sex and romance that would have happily accused him of having 'limited use' beyond his physical appeal. Pushing to explore the unexpected explosion of attraction he'd experienced with his superior officer could have been construed as unwise, and Nate couldn't easily profess that he'd expected longevity because he'd learned to temper his expectations in that regard, but he'd certainly not set about to add her to some list.

But neither had he expected to dictate terms. They were all alone in their own ways out here, trapped in a fishbowl that only allowed them to swim in circles. He'd been willing to swim alongside her for a bit, without pressure or expectation, with what he predicted to be an understanding that there'd be times she'd pull away to do laps on her own again. Or with someone else. Exclusivity hadn't been the problem, even that aspect of her interpretation of his intention wasn't an issue. It was the implication that any time spent with her was nothing more than a conquest. The objectification, the self-gratification, the selfishness. And it was probably his fault she only thought that much of him but that didn't make it easier to swallow. He'd been okay with what he'd anticipated would be the extent of her interest in him, intent at least to use it as a means of getting to know her better.

This was different though. This vulnerability, the hesitancy, the absolute meltdown under the weight of personal insecurity. If Nate was guilty of anything it was of not understanding the escalating intensity of her investment, of not being able to see himself as 'The One' in any capacity that would have a woman try for something actually meaningful with him. He'd seen a glimmer with Diaz and that had proven false. Forced by sheer weight of popular opinion to view himself as 'Side Benefits at Best', he'd gone with it. Apparently, he'd missed the mark entirely.

So now there was this, and a scramble to decide what to do about it. He was calmer now, at least, though his body still writhed with the discomfort of trying to navigate the unexpected fragility of a woman he'd always admired for being anything but. His eyes found hers again and, for a moment, Nate found it possible to quiet himself by studying the expression peeking out from behind the iron wall. The compulsion to dig deeper hadn't gone anywhere but he remained mindful now that it might not have been the simple act of availing himself that he'd first anticipated.

A hand reached out, hesitated first to see if she'd pull away, and settled gently against the curve of her jaw.

"Perhaps we both just need to talk instead of assuming."

The woman looked more vulnerable than she never looked before. She had not used to such emotion from herself or other Marines. Even with her previous lovers and dalliances she knew what to expect as no one stuck around for long and no one treated her with respect so why should she give it to them. The touch on her cheek was unexpected and she found herself searching his eyes trying to figure out what was going on and what had changed enough to bear the touch her.

“Maybe.” She offered un biting her lip to speak and to try and focus. She did it when she was nervous and unsure of the emotions she was feeling and wanting to express. “I am standing here wanting to talk if you are.” She wanted to talk and share exactly what was going through her mind. He was not like previous men; she had not danced with other men and they had not attacked her ice maiden persona.

The moment of silence that followed wasn't an indication of unwillingness so much as an attempt by a man unskilled at emotional disclosure to prevent making a further mess of things. Nate had never been backwards when it came to speaking up, had arguably a great deal of trouble controlling his tongue and no issue in sharing opinions with anyone within earshot. Feelings were another thing entirely, especially those that stemmed from lifelong inadequacies and complicated family dynamics responsible for shaping his entire behavioural response. There had been a few attempts as part of disciplinary procedures in the past to get him to talk to a shrink but it was always through military channels and anything that passed through the system inevitably twisted its tendrils back towards Daddy Dearest, at least as far as Nate was concerned. He didn't trust the command structure, had been victimised by it too many times because of one man's bias persistence.

It spoke to a previous sense of expectation and hope that he'd cast Voznyuk amongst the untrustworthy, suspicious enough to believe that she'd perpetuate a cycle once they got home. Something had changed inside him since Smith's rampage and the loss of more of his team. Nate hadn't identified it directly at first, dealt with it instead the way he always did by acting out, but returning home wasn't something he felt entirely certain about anymore. Their current surroundings had only added to the emergence of an entirely new train of thought because not only did it seem less and less likely that the ship would sustain them long enough to find a route back, the discovery of advanced and peaceful coalitions out here had dangled a carrot that forced him to confront the question of whether he even wanted to go back. Was it worth spending the rest of his days trapped in a sardine tin, aimed at a place that held nothing much for him other than the ramifications of another man's disappointment?

And if he didn't return, or more to the point, they never got back, was there sense in punishing Voznyuk for crimes she wouldn't have an opportunity to commit? The dancing had thrown him for a loop too, not just that she'd consented to it, but that he'd wanted it enough to offer. Watching her fall to pieces in small chunks only made it harder to hold her accountable for rallying to his father's banner and though he'd just left a trail of destruction that proved she was capable of hurting him, she also had the distinction of being the first one to ever follow him and take it back. The battle waged behind his eyes reflected hers as he watched her speak and, in the silence, he attempted not to shatter that followed, Nate settled the hand on her face to slide down against the curve of her neck and exhaled as he relented to whatever instinct inside of him balked at the idea of rolling over and exposing his weak spot and gently pulled her into an embrace that tucked her underneath his chin. Eyes closed; he just held her. Gave them both a moment to breathe. Gave himself a moment to not say something that came from his vast supplies of Insensitive Prick.

The woman froze as he pulled her close to home. She stayed frozen in his embrace for far too long before she relaxed and found arms around him. It was a gentle embrace, but it spoke volumes for both of them in this in the first time that they had been so much close outside of the shuttle pod or shoving each other. She was not small for her size at all but even she felt dwarfed by him in that moment.

“I… Are you okay?” She wondered softly. Her face was smooshed against his jacket but she did not care about that but she needed to know he was okay and not entirely broken. They were all a little broken deep down being out there but there was so much she still wanted to do so she was not at all willing to give in.

A huff of laughter, whilst not joyous, was at least indicative of some sort of emotional retreat. "Probably not." It was a hell of an admission and not something that Nate had any idea how to elaborate on so he didn't try. It wasn't aimed at her however, and after a moment he realised the need to clarify that. "Pretty standard though so you could almost consider it a normal day." With her finally accepting the shelter of his arms, the marine circled the heel of his palm slowly against the tension in her shoulder blade and settled his own nerves with the attempt at soothing. "We gotta stop doing this though." Emphasis on the we, he had backed down enough to address his own shitty handling of things. "They don't teach you how to deal with shit that gets inside your head but we're going to have to figure it out." He pulled back enough to rest his chin gently against her forehead. "There's not enough left of us for this."

His words were raw just like how she was feeling and she could not at all blame him for feeling like that. It was similar to how she was feeling. She had not set out to tell him how she felt but purely stop him doing something stupid to ruin his life. But there they were stood there trying to make sense. The woman nodded which moved his chin away and made her look up at him. The tension was not leaving her body and she was hating how fight vs flight she was feeling. “They do not so we have to learn.” She whispered glancing up at the snow now falling.

With admittedly a degree of effort, Nate stepped back to give her some space and turned as if to indicate the path he'd been previously about to disappear down. Not completely dressed to keep the cold out, at least not enough by his standards, he nevertheless dug his hands into the depths of his jacket pockets and fell into step beside her, close but independent enough for both of them to regather their wits.

"You weren't right, you know," he eventually said, which sounded like a rehashing of what she'd already admitted to until he clarified, "About me not listening. I'm not any good at what comes out of my mouth afterwards so you might need to prepare some more snow to shove down my shirt." He shot her a sideways glance and a tired half-smirk. "But there's nothing wrong with my ears. Start with something." A gentle elbow nudged against her arm. "There's no one else for us to talk to about this, Iryna." He'd never really used her name before. "We have to start somewhere."

Iryna stayed quiet for a few paces listening the got to crunch under her feet and watching the way the snow fell at odd angles in front of them giving the effect that they were the only ones around. She knew that was impossible as millions of people were around them diving in and out of shelter but in that moment, it was just them. “I am not entirely sure where to start. I am the ice maiden after all.” She stumbled through saying trying to find a thread to begin saying what she wanted.

"That's a title, and a costume," Nate pointed out, confessing once and for all that he knew the difference between what she dished out and what was going on beneath the surface. "And she's quite a force to be reckoned with but I think she can probably stay out of this conversation for a bit." He squinted. "She's already kicked my butt once today."

“I am glad I reached you in time to stop most of what could have happened back there.” She said choosing that to start with. She had come there for good reasons even if he did not see it at that at the time or even now potentially. She came there to stop Jamesson kicking his ass as the man was huge. It would have caused a bigger mess.

A dismissive scoff was a more typical response, though Nate did his best to follow his own advice and curbed the impulse to brush off her concern entirely. "The guy's a mess, understandably, but he's fucking with her head somehow and she won't talk about it. Whatever he said to you was out of line and I'd rather he beat the shit out of me than continue whatever the hell it is he's doing to Cal."

“I think it’s all the fallout from Smith. It messed us all up.” She reminded softly. What she knew from many drinks with Jamesson he did not have the ability to fuck with someone’s head when he was so low. “What did he make you believe?” She asked thinking that trying to decipher where she knew that things had shifted for the crew. She knew where she had broken enough for people to get through her costume.

Nate, who had started paying closer attention once he'd noticed the dark rings appearing under Diaz's eyes, didn't have the same level of certainty but he said nothing and instead frowned at her question. "I mean, he came to poker nights, right? First number he pulled on me was dishing out that 'chin up and solider on' boy scout mentality and not getting the proverbial door slammed in his face." Cheerful, buoyant optimism did not usually work with Nate and he was furious in retrospect to have been made to endure it without complaint. "Cal didn't like him though and he didn't like her. Still haven't figured that out, she's got to have been the one of the few." He glanced across at her and conceded with a drop of his head. "I thought she was overreacting, didn't help her when she was digging around for info on him despite our unit apparently getting involved, and then she ended up on the floor in the mess hall with the rest of them."

Something about the way he spoke somehow cast a light on his actual relationship with the Lieutenant, not the fabricated one that existed only as the interpretation of a distraught mind. He cared. And whilst he clearly respected her boundaries and had left far behind any notion of rekindling a romantic relationship, there was something decidedly unNathan about the prospect of him maintaining genuine connection well after being firmly Friend zoned. Or perhaps, more to the point, it wasn't contrary to what he was capable of, it was just the side of him that tended to sneak behind his own costume.

"That's the worst of it though, I think. I didn't have a lot to do with him but he made sure to side line me when he had to."

Iryna stayed quiet as she listened and nodded as he summed it all up finally. It was grating on most of the marines still that Smith had gotten so involved in them. Looking back, it was easy to see it but with the cloud of confusion that Smith had created they had accepted him there without question. The man’s tone about Diaz was something she had not heard from him before and it was unexpected but something that maybe deep down she had always known he was capable of somewhere which was why she gave him the time of day. “That is good that you were not so involved with him.”

"Is it?" Cusack didn't sound so sure. "Maybe I'm spared the head full of garbage that the rest of you got but I still didn't do anything about him." And, perhaps in his own insidious way, Smith had known that would get to Nathan the most in the long term, should he survive for there to be one. For all his many faults, Nate had never failed to step into the line of fire and draw heat away from a fallen comrade. He had never balked at barrelling through gunfire to pull a civilian to safety. He wasn't glad to have been spared Smith's mind games because that meant other people had endured them instead. Calanthe had. Voznyuk too, probably, the bastard had liked the women. He lapsed into silence for a moment, knowing what the next natural question was but finding it necessary to steel himself for the response. His anger had abated somewhat but the pressure valve had only released so much. "What about you? He hurt you at all?"

Iryna knew that the question was coming but it did not mean that any admittance she made would make it any easier. “Yeah, but the memories are mostly faded now. I don’t really remember it much.” She wrapped her arms around herself for a moment before she relaxed again. “Nate, none of us did anything as we all had the same illusions. Al in the same boat with this.” She said trying to move on.

With his hands wedged into his pockets, it wasn't possible for her to see the fists that formed momentarily. Dancing around explicit details didn't change much, not when Nathan had been privy enough to the kind of things that Smith had pulled to guess at herself least the severity of what she might have been left to deal with. Alone, he realised, because Voznyuk had come out of Smith's reign of terror with a career advancement she hadn't asked for, left to valiantly try to hold together the frayed and slowly unravelling threads of a once-thriving unit. He hadn't helped. When did he ever?

"So, what else then?" he eventually asked, looking across at her as the snow beneath their feet took on the pristine crispness of a fresh fall, undisturbed. "Smith was a piece of shit but he wasn't really there that long, for all the damage he caused." Nate turned his attention back to the obscured horizon, trying to squint through the snowflakes to retain some orientation of where they were. "Seems like you've been slowly bleeding out lately."

“He put pressure on the pressure fractures that were already there.” She said with a shrug as the question turned on her. They were not stable enough for her to delve into her psyche enough for her to share everything. “Pressure points that have been there for years and years. Pressure points that made me see you for something you are not, see myself as someone who just attracts trouble.” She shrugged again and pulled up her hood up against the snow. It gave her the illusion of hiding just a little but she peeked out at him “We should really get out of this.”

"Oh, thank God." An immediate chuckle was the first proper sign of humour he'd shown, and it also allowed for a very honest shudder that wracked his broad shoulders now that he'd been given permission to stop suppressing it. "I'm starting to think even snowboarding wouldn't make the uphill trek worth it." With a glance around, trying to think on his feet what kind of setting would be appropriate, Nate wrenched out his busted-up hand to shield his eyes and then reached out with the arm closest to her to shepherd across in front of him towards one of the many small arboretums that were dotted around the place. In any normal city, they'd have been small parks but Nate guessed it made sense to put the same kind of natural retreat under a protective dome. At least it ought to be warm.

He followed her in, stepping inside so that the doors could swoosh closed behind them. Shaking his arms dislodged an inordinate amount of snow from his sleeves but Nate persisted, lifting both hands to scrub at his hair and scatter what he could before they melted and left him saturated. The small biome was pleasant enough, populated mostly by flowering bushes and smaller shrubs, interspersed with benches for seating and the occasional table for those who brought food. Overhead, Nate realised that a mounted speaker system was responsible for piping in gentle ambient music and though it was a little more zen than his typical preference, it was at least empty and, as predicted, free from the stabbing wind.

"You, okay?" he turned, watching her deal with her own blanket of snowflakes and reaching up to do his bit at brushing loose a few still clinging to strands of hair around her forehead.

The woman stumped her boots a few times and attempted to undo her jacket shake it off, but there really just wasn’t enough space in the entrance area of the bio dome to do that so she just shook herself and hoped that dislodged enough that she wouldn’t end up, soaked and cold. She froze as his fingers grazed her forehead and offered a smile. “I’m fine.” She assured. “Just mentioning Smith even though I technically brought it up just brought up just how inadequate I’ve been feeling.” She held up a hand to stop him and notice how tinged blue her hands err and shoved it back in her pocket. “Inadequate as an officer well enlisted but you get my drift and a woman. And this whole thing between us that is not us, it’s just made my thoughts a little scrambled.”

Nate raised his eyebrows. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but you kissed me back there." He jerked his thumb back towards their origin. As it happened, it was the first time he'd really processed the truth behind the statement and was not too proud to admit he was somewhat kicking himself for having been too preoccupied with being furious to really recall much of it. "Whether you want to admit it or not, something of the 'us' is definitely 'us'." He folded his arms over his chest and immediately regretted it, wincing as his bruised knuckles protested at being squashed. Switching positions so it rested on top, he stood his ground and drew a deep breath in through his nose. "And it sounds like we'd better figure that out so we can stop going around in circles until I hit a brick wall, huh?"

She noticed the wince and offered a sympathetic glance to his knuckles. They were going to hurt for a bit. “I did kiss you back there.” She admitted softly as she started to step further into the dome and take it all in. It was a contrast to outside that reminded her of the walks she used to take on the future vessel to clear her mind. “So how do you feel about that kiss?”

If Nate was honest, what he mostly felt about it was that it had brought them full circle and somewhat eradicated the entire point of breaking his fist in the first place. It was...well, he was choosing not to be irritated because it was the least worthwhile of any of his current feelings. As much as it had stung to be accused of behaviour that was crass and just a little offensive, lingering on that now when he hadn't had a proper chance to digest her explanation was just going to murky the waters again. Instead, Nate gave the question due consideration from a multitude of other perspectives in very quick succession and arrived at much the same conclusion at the end of each. "I think you stole my thunder." Just the right amount of light-hearted, the right hint of a very typical cockiness without the confrontation that often went with it. Nate's lips twitched but he avoided a smile by raising his eyebrows to their full capacity. "But I might be forgiven for reserving judgement until I know how youfelt about it." He'd been getting in trouble all night for apparently enjoying things he shouldn't. If, after all this, they had started something she didn't want to follow through on, he wanted to know now and not later down the track where an inevitable misstep would set all this off again.

“Well, someone had to steal the thunder and take that spark out of you for a moment.” She countered before she turned away from his gaze to gather herself. It was hard enough admitting how she felt to someone without their gaze on her. “I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you.” She said hoping that was a good enough explanation.

Even without a fistful of broken knuckles to act as proof, Nate was a man who tended to push against restraints until they buckled, or challenged boundaries until they either caved in or it became obvious that they weren't going to budge. It wasn't hard to see she found the admission difficult and, given what she'd told him so far, Nate could see a reason why. That didn't mean he was going to let this drift back into ambiguity so they wound up retracing their steps over and over. "So, was it a one-off curiosity or do you think you might want to do it again?" Pausing for a second to study her profile and rely on a familiar confidence to navigate his own insecurity, the marine weighed up his options and dipped predictably towards pushing-his-luck. "I mean, I have an availability in the next few minutes, for example..."

The woman turned to look at him confused trying to process what he said before she gave him a hopeful smile that he was interested enough that he said that. “I wanted to kiss you that night in the pod but that night got away from us. So, I do not believe it was a one-off curiosity.”

"Well, I'm glad you didn't at that point because you were drunk and I would have had to be a gentleman and then you'd have punched me probably." An easy smile, a little crooked with sass, was enough to convey that the accusation was a joke, though there was an underlying sincerity to his relief. It wasn't an attempt to play up to what he thought she wanted to hear; Nate had simply gone into that entire very strange evening absolutely determined not to take advantage. "For what it's worth, though, it was definitely a struggle to stick to my guns."

He regarded her for a moment longer, paying attention to her body language and her difficulty in meeting his eyes. Lifting his gaze to roam between several points’ high overhead, Nate took a moment to think through an impulse and then turned to her again, an enigmatic half-smile accompanying his outstretched hand. It wasn't quite the same music, trying to find a rhythm would be interesting, but the ambience was at least conducive. "We could always try again. You want to dance?"

“Course it was…” she said smiling back relieved to hear the sass back. It was a relief to hear him sound a bit more like his usual cocky self. Both of them were dodging about the subject so the offer of a dance was nice and familiar. She undid her jacket and threw it to the ground so she stood there in half her uniform signifying she had rushed to get a jacket that she had left her uniform jacket behind.

“I would really like that dance. But that hand needs to go in my waist or wherever so it is not hurt.” She said pointedly wishing she had a medical kit.

"A few busted knuckles won't hurt me," Nate quipped, a statement that immediately contradicted itself. The hand was still somewhat functional, at least, either that or he was stubbornly ignoring the discomfort to fold her fingers against his palm and turn her slowly before bringing her close. He smiled, a familiar smugness tempered by additional warmth, though Nate switched out hands to settle his damaged one against her hip as ordered. He could be cooperative enough when it served him and it had doubled as permission to maintain an intimate distance. "So, is this our thing now? Are we the dancing marines?"

“Of course, it would not but I’m trying be nice.” She quipped back and stepped closer so she was closer to him again like she had when she had kissed him. It was intimate but there was something different about this dance. Maybe it was the fact they were sober or maybe it was the strange new tension but it was definitely different. “Only between us. The others would mock.” She whispered as they started to move in their own way.

"You mean, more than they already do?" he murmured, face bent over hers so that volume wasn't necessary. With a gentle thunk, his forehead came to rest against hers and he closed his eyes, because as impatient as he could be about a lot of things, the talking felt like the most important part of this rewind. An attempt to dig their snowplough into the piles of misconception and confusion they'd managed to create without actual intent. "Would it really matter that much? Is being linked to me really that bad for your reputation?"

“My reputation…” she laughed softly. “No, it’s your reputation, Nate. Mines is already in tatters since I am no longer one of the lads.” She reminded gently not wanting to stir up any more emotions around the loses that they had made when there was a little bit of hope between them at the moment.

The scoff of laughter held a twinge of weariness to it. "See, that's where your first mistake was. You had a reputation. Really hard to lose it if you just obliterate it in the first few weeks." He winked, knowing perfectly well that she'd had to bear a lot of the strain of his behaviour at times.

The woman caught the wink as she pulled her head back to look at him. “I wonder why. But even then, people still like you.” She assured quietly moving one of her hands from around his neck to caress his cheek. “But if this is now a thing no matter how messy I want to try and keep it between us for a little bit. Don’t have much but sometimes I don’t want to share everything.”

Somewhere amidst the adrenaline and testosterone was a decision that Nate didn't completely recall making. Though his intentions had remained reasonably honourable, his expectations had been flexible and the further down the path he followed this woman now returned to his arms, the more it seemed likely that she wanted far more than he ever could have guessed. Hell, he wasn't even sure he wasn't the kind of catch that most threw back and it still warranted consideration that he might not be what she was hoping for. A repeat of Diaz and his self-esteem might disintegrate entirely. As the day had played out and the throb of his knuckles reminded him of several of his choices, Nathan was confronted by a choice he'd never really expected.

Did he want a thing with Iryna Voznyuk?

The implication was that it would be something with potential, and open pathway instead of the closed cul-de-sac he'd been more prepared for. And this was the exact moment to make a commitment to it or decline the offer, if it wasn't already too late to take up that option without being a prick. Studying her eyes, already a guilty pleasure, wasn't the best way to ensure he thought with the head perched on his shoulders but their expression was perhaps something that he needed to see. The vulnerability mingled with hope, directed at him. It wasn't his ego that answered back but a very deeply buried and corresponding loneliness that recognised a kindred spirit when it finally revealed itself. Maybe it would become an ungodly mess. History suggested he was highly skilled at leading things that way. But did he want to try anyway?

He turned his head just far enough to place a kiss against her palm.

"Never been someone's dirty little secret before. Well," he amended, "there was that one time but she ditched me for a kid in the second grade." His eyes grinned as his lips pulled into a lazy mockery of the attempt.

“You can say no and this could be just be another random day where things have been gone bonkers and not exactly how things are expected to go.” She said softly giving him that option. She was not wanting to force him into a route when he was raw. They could dance and they go separate directions.

A bob of his head acknowledged the option, though nothing about Nate's expression made it seem like he was considering taking it up. He moved in slow circles, a slow weave back and forth as he at least gave his response some decent thought for once. "I think I've stopped believing there's a way back from all this," he eventually confessed. "Being stuck out here, I mean. And I don't think I really relish the idea of my life just dwindling away, amounting to nothing. Nobody left to prove anything to except myself." Back and forth, around and around. He held her gaze as he considered it all. "It's not going to be easy," he warned. "We're both stubborn as hell."

Iryna could feel the pulse in her body getting louder and louder as they moved and waited for him to say something that would ease the tension one way or another. “I am fully aware of that.” She laughed feeling some of the tension leaving as she realised this might be the perfect time to just agree that they were both just stubborn and deal with that.

A disobedient hand lifted from her hip a moment to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, it's attempted at obscuring her eye too much of a transgression to suffer without recourse. Dried blood made for an unappealing caress and so Nate trailed the fingernail of his index finger along the shape of her jaw and then dropped the hand again to its banishment. "You need to promise me something first," he murmured.

“Oh?” She requested smiling at her damp hair that was very much being disobedient as it dried. She would need a hair band soon to tame it into some type of order. She raised an eyebrow at his request but said nothing else wanting to hear about the promise he needed her to make.

"No more assumptions. No more beating around the bush. No more hoping that Cusack has the skills to figure out there's something wrong when everyone's pretending otherwise." His brow was puckered but the expression in his eyes was a far more tender source of concern than whatever had fuelled his injured pride earlier. "You need to help me not be those other guys. There won't ever be other notches on the bed," he assured quickly, and not just because he couldn't imagine finding a second woman on this god-forsaken ship who'd put up with him. "But Nathan Cusack is a bit of a prick at times. He needs to work on that."

“I promise you, Nathanial Cusack, that if you be less of a prick, I will be less of the ice queen. And no more assumptions.” She promised him staring back hoping she was conveying just how bad she was feeling deep in her stomach. “I will help you to not be those other guys. You already have my attention more than they had.”

"Ouch, giving me all my syllables already." Nathanial was his father's name for him. One day, he'd tell her that, when it was time enough to tell the rest of the story that went along with it. Maybe on his deathbed. That seemed like a decent time to evoke the old bastard's name. "Those are my terms though. I will be your dirty little secret; you just need to help me clean up." He winked again. A few smudges were likely to stick.

“I am sorry. I forgot. Nate…” She could vaguely remember a request when they had been drunk to not call him that. “I promise to keep to your terms.” She said formally stepping back to holding out her hand to shake on it grinning just a little. She was teasing him just enough to try and get them both into a better mood properly.

He took the hand, which was at least offered in a way that didn't require him to use his busted one, and spun her quickly until she was facing away from him and he could swamp her from behind. An arm across her, face buried into her hair for a moment despite the fact that it smelled much like he suspected he smelt; of damp leaves. A gentle jostle and the slightest threat of just picking her up and carrying her outside to dump into the snow if she wanted to start something. "I don't do formal very well even when it's warranted," he reminded her, leaning down until his chin settled on her shoulder. "And I think you're trying to weasel out of something, hmmn?"

The woman closed her eyes at the hug from behind and smiled allowing the sensation to flow through her even hymn there was a concern that he might just haul her outside. She did not think he would do that when she did not even have a jacket on. “I am not weaselling out or going anywhere.” She promised.

"Well, answer me this then."

The nuzzle of his nose against her ear lingered a moment before Nate murmured, "How are you going to kiss me if you're facing that way?"