ataraxion | [ TEXT ] in which cambridge makes a polite enquiry about her location

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[ TEXT ] in which cambridge makes a polite enquiry about her location

[ Hello, fellow crewmembers. If your device wasn’t on before IT CERTAINLY IS NOW! Cambridge - still nursing the mental wound of her power being so rudely culled and currently feeling obnoxiously disorientated - technopathically shoves a text transmission your way: ]

if somebody doesn't tell me exactly where the fuck I am then I am airlocking the whole bloody ship so help me god.

[ An idle threat, don’t you worry. If she had been at full strength then she might have attempted to slip her way through the ship’s systems but as it is she can barely switch a light off, let alone override the hundreds of security precautions that would undoubtedly stand between her and an airlock. Still, the impulse behind the threat is very real: uncertainty and fear mingled with a desperation to check that she wasn’t going mad and dreaming this all... ]

unless this is some hideously unfunny prank in which case you can all go to hell. bad form, you bastards.

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Why the hell would I want you to-- [Plans kick in before he gets the chance to ask her why she's hot for getting sucked out into space. If she can open doors that are otherwise locked, she might be telling the truth.]

Any airlock?

I dare say so. [ there's so much pride in her words - she does love her power dearly - that she almost forgets that actually, no, she probably can't undo any airlock. Not in her weakened state. ]

You feel like headin' out to explore? [Somehow, he doesn't think the beef jerky's going to cut it with this one. He just doesn't know what else he can offer in payment that would be of interest. Aside from himself, of course.]

[ offering her beef jerky would be a serious mistake, Dean :| ]

Perhaps. Once I'm quite finished with - what was it you said? - getting my panties in a twist.

I can fix those panties for you, sweetheart, if you're gettin' distracted by them. [Yeah, he went there. Shamelessly. Dean Winchester has no shame.]

[ she laughs, brightly but sharply. ]

What a terribly charming offer, mister...?

[There's just too much habit involved for Dean to offer up his real name, too much that still doesn't fit for him to go throwing it into the mix.]

Page. Jimmy Page. Any time...?

Imogen, Imogen Moore. [ a pause, as Cambridge considers her options. ] When exactly were you thinking of setting out on your little exploration, Mister Page?

Jimmy. 'nd as soon as possible. Answers aren't gonna come lookin' for us. We gotta go find 'em. Other people might be okay with sitting around like assholes waitin' to be spoon-fed information, but I'm not.

A man with a plan! How exciting! [ Cambridge claps her hands together in theatrical delight. ] What do you plan to do if you come across our captors, by the by?

Start up a conga line. [No, that's not the real answer.]

Get some answers. Failin' that? Find out where they're hidin' the whiskey.

Whiskey! I admire your priorities, Jimmy-darling. What would it take to convince you to share your spoils, should you happen across any hidden reserves of whiskey?

I'm sure you can think of somethin'. [Especially since he can only think of one thing.]

Heavens, aren’t you forward. [ Cambridge affects a coy little laugh. ] I rather doubt that you’re my type, Jimmy dear.

As a type? Or are we talkin' the wrong plumbing? ...'cause if we're talkin' about what I think we're talking about... 's like Christmas. [Yeah. He'd watch. But that's secondary to the idea his brain has stumbled across.]

Whiskey in return for that little skill you got with these devices. One time. If I need it. [This is sounding an awful lot like a deal. Dean never learns about those damn things...]

Oh, darling, I like a little bit of both - but I'm afraid I have dizzyingly high standards for the gentlemen... and I'm not entirely sure we have anything in common.

And it's a deal. A terribly mercenary one, but a deal none the less. You don't happen to smoke, do you?

Stone cold, sweetheart. Stone cold. You have no idea what dizzyingly high is until you've met me. I'll change your definition.

I'm just coverin' all my options. Good to know people will certain skills. [But at the question about cigarettes, he shakes his head. He doesn't smoke but he's been to prison before. He knows how trading contraband works.]

But if I find any I'll trade 'em too.

Find me more cigarettes and you can help yourself to as many of my tricks as you like, darling.

[ ugh Cambridge cannot even make her mind up whether she wants to keep flirting and leading Dean on or not. Damn these oversexed Order operatives. ]

When I find some... I'll come knockin'.

[He hasn't missed the change in dynamic, Cambridge. He sees what you just did there.]

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[ TEXT ] in which cambridge makes a polite enquiry about her location

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