the observation deck

There's something comforting about being up here alone, muses Lio.

After a long day in the archives doing nothing but sifting through data logs and transmissions, he is thankful for the quiet. No one is really awake at this hour, save for a few of the maintenance bots getting as much cleaning done before the chaos of the next day arrives. Not that Lio would really be around to see it, as he avoids the crowds of the ship with practiced ease, but the comings and goings of The Nostalgia are hard to ignore. Although the environment of space leaves no true essence of day and night, the ship and its crew operate on regular Terran hours. At 0200, it is only him and the stars.

It is at these hours that Lio gets most of his work done. The ambience of the deck and noises echoicing across the ship put him in a trance. He loses himself to his tablets, deep in his element.

"Li'lio," a smug voice cuts through the air. Lio turns, annoyance etching across his face as the bane of his existence strolls into view.

Vega smirks at him, the bastard. "You aren't supposed to be up here, but you already know this."

Lio barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll have you know, officer, that those rules do not apply to me as the sole archivist of this ship. I have work to do - begone."

The bastard has the gall to laugh loudly, the sound echoing across the deck as if they too were taunting Lio. "Just following the protocol, your royal sweetness." Something shifts in his gaze, but it is there and gone too quick for Lio to decipher. He looks away from Lio, gazing up at the vast void beyond them. "You know I'm just doing my job, right?"

A moment passes between them. This has been happening a lot, lately. Lio is no fool, as he knows Vega is a busy man. Being in charge of the security of the ship is no easy task. But... in the last year or so, the man has come near daily to harass Lio out of his peace. At first it was largely unwelcome, as Lio did not need distractions away from his work. But as of late, he has to admit that having the other man be present for a bit helps him regulate. The quiet is not stifling between them as it is with others on the ship.

The archivist sighs. "I know, but surely you have other important things to do than be here presently."

"And start my next round without my usual stop here? You're funny."

"Your usual stop involves you waving your authority around and leaving."

"I think you don't mind."

Heat reaches Lio's cheeks. Immediately he turns to retort at the officer but finds that Vega is already looking at him. Taking him in, Lio sees that Vega looks absolutely exhuasted. His laugh lines are as prominent as the dark circles that find a home under his eyes. Vega's hair, usually cleanly cut, is shaggy and loose. When was the last time the officer visited the barber? With horror caught in his throat, Lio realizes that he and Vega have just been staring at each other for a time longer than socially appropriate.

"You are a heathen," he says lamely.

Instead of the loud laugh that filled the room earlier, Vega chuckles softly. There's something with the way that he is looking at Lio. He doesn't get it. They're too close. When did they get closer?

This has been happening a lot lately too. Lio doesn't understand it. The feelings that he gets around the officer are confusing, new... uncharted. If there is anything that annoys Lio, it is the inability to understand. As children, Vega didn't behave like this at all! Lio even hesitates to call them friends, as their parents worked together in the past. It frustrates Lio to feel like this, especially with an arrogant, rule-enforcing-

"It would be really great if you would hang in the cafeteria sometime, everyone misses you." Vega says softly, eyes still on lock at Lio.

Lio lets out a breath he didn't know he held in. "You already know I don't like the cafeteria. It is loud, messy, and during the hours of 0800 to 1000 it is an uncivilized zone with hungry beasts who behave as if they have never eaten a day in their lives." And he feels lonely. With all the work he has been doing, he knows he doesn't really relate to everyone anyways. Things have changed since their youth. Even as a child, he did not quite fit in with everyone else. It is Vega that pulls him into things. It is Vega that makes him socialize. It is Vega who is continuously a pain in the rear. Vega, and his insistence on being around someone like him who is deeply uninteresting.

He wants to ask Vega why he looks at him like that. He wants to ask why he cares. His mouth feels stiff, as if foam had been shoved into it and all he can muster is pathetic excuses. "Are you done with your stop now?" He turns away, pretending to be absorbed in his work again.

Silence once again fills the deck. Lio feels barren to the stars beyond. He hears Vega shift his weight, like he is getting ready to leave. Lio cannot stand to look at him in the eye, afraid the other man will see into his soul and mind all the turmoil he has internally.

Yet, something compells him to speak once more. "Take some leave and fix your face. Your current state of appearance is unruly and too unkempt for someone of your station."

Lio turns around to see a sad smile splays across Vega's face. Did Lio say something wrong? Before he can even attempt to rectify his statement, Vega whispers, "Alright. Anything for you."

The archivist dares to really look at his officer for a moment, analyzing his face, trying to find something to understand.

He takes too long to reply. The officer attaches that smug demeanor back onto his face, looking him up and down before leaving.

Suddenly Lio doesn't want to be alone up here anymore.