A Break from the Norm

The Executive Officers stateroom, is roughly twice the size of a senior officers quarters aboard the Anteres. Roughly two-thirds of it being combination office/living/conference room. The walls are decorated with a mix of Military and Hockey memorabilia. Autographed jerseys, interspersed among pictures of Andorian heros. Four humans, Admirals Nimitz, Spruance, Halsey, and Archer have found a place of honor here. In one corner on a stand, sits an intricately carved Andorian Chest, containing the Ushaan-Tor dueling set used by her Uncle, given to her on the day she left to join Starfleet. Of a more odd nature, are the paintings on the opposite wall, depicting ice and snow covered landscapes, of well known, and unknown regions of what must be Andor, all signed by the artist......Liara Shran

Liara walks out of the bedroom, fresh from the shower, and happy to out of her dress uniform. Wearing a pair of shorts, her favorite "Gretzky" jersey, and a pair of fuzzy bear paw shaped slippers, she plops down on the couch, fully intending to follow Captain Tigans suggestion of taking a break from the norm. "Computer. Begin playback. The Enemy Below starring Robert Mitchum."

H'suur walks down the corridor, trying to figure out what the problem is, this time. The funeral, T'zark, Liara's fuming, Reed's whispering...and now LTC Shran ordering LT H'suur to 'report to her quarters immediately', with language about 'being expected to surrender all contraband'. So, in the satchel over his shoulder was the bottle of Romulan ale, still mostly full, ice blue and pregnant with inebriated possibility. Thus he ends up at the door to her stateroom, mashing the call plate with his thumb, waiting.

As the opening credits roll, the stateroom callbell sounds. "Enter" she says, never turning from the screen. As the door whooshes open, the sounds of classic hollywood orchastra music of the mid 20th century, washout into the passageway. H'Suur barely gets one foot in the door, before Liara, still without turning away from the film, speaks. "Glasses are there on my desk. I decided on the tall ones, cause I feel like drinking, not filling my glass constantly. Hope thats not a problem."

H'suur, unsure what to expect, gives a twist of his ears as he glances about. If this were 'XO deals with problem child department head', she'd be behind her desk. Instead, the tall glasses are out, and Liara's in full 'movie mode'. He shrugs, crossing to the desk as the door closes behind him. Bottle out, two glasses poured. His gaze flits about the stateroom as he moves to the couch, tail swaying easily - when he sits, handing her one of the glasses, his attention takes its time moving down her legs, lingering on the slippers. "Nice shoes," he purrs, looking back at the screen, hint of a lecherous smirk hidden behind a sip of the brandy.

Liara takes the glass in her left hand, taking a long draw of the warm liquid. "Thats because I have legs that make any kind of footwear look good" she says with a smirk. Reaching behind H'Suur with her right arm, it would almost appear as if she where putting her arm around his shoulder. Abruptly though, she slaps him on the back of the head, very reminecent of the lead character from an early 21st century crime show she and H'Suur used to watch at the academy. "Turn off the charm DiNozzo. We've been through this before. I need a friend to help me blow off some steam, and your the only one I have. Besides, you know I hate watching movies full of water alone. It freaks me out."

H'suur moves the glass away from his lips as Liara delivers her admonition - this has happened before, apparently. He grins, replying, "Turn off the charm, hm?" The Caitian takes a leisurely sip of the illicit ale, sighing with a smack of his lips and a twitch of his whiskers. Reclining easily, he pushes off his boots, wriggling clawed toes. "I dunno why you keep watching movies with lots of water in them...c'mon, there's a zillion shows, Andorrian even, about space battles, right? I know there's a few Caitian ones about the early system conflicts in Regulus, and there's even that what-if series about trading Kodom occupation for Vulcan...they didn't like that..." He grins, eyes having moved from Liara to the screen. "Gah...they went underwater in that..."

Liara shrugs, taking another swig of her drink. She shivers, as the alcohol sends a jolt down her spine. "I don't know. Maybe because it's not space. Maybe it's because it's much more frightening....Well to me absolutely terrifying...and yet so intriguing." Leaning forward, she picks the bottle up from the table, and refills her glass. She takes another swig, as she slouches deep into the couch, again producing the same response as before. Mmmh! I forgot your contraband was from the top shelf. Where did you get this stuff?..No No..Wait. Forget I asked. I'm fairly certain I don't want to know."

"Okay, I can see that..." H'suur replies, considering Liara, then the movie unfolding slowly in front of them. "Being underwater in a can would have it's own set of problems." Grinning at her evaluation of the libations, he takes his time sipping his. "Absolutely top shelf. Where? Same thing I tell everyone else - spring break on Romulus." Another sip, another easy smile. "Hey, if I'm gonna break the rules, I'm gonna do it with style and grace."

Liara chuckles lightly. "Right..I forgot you do everything with style and grace." Taking another sip of her drink, she remains silent for a moment, allowing the movie to unfold. Eventually she empties her glass, and fills it again before speaking. "Sorry about the incident at the funeral. That was neither the place nor the time.

H'suur waves a hand, "No worries. Everybody was pretty emotional." He takes a longer pull on the ale, shifting a bit on the couch to adjust his tail. "I know I've got...uh, unorthodox political opinions, and I can get kinda mouthy about 'em. I just hope that spook Reed wasn't giving you too much trouble."

Liara sighs, staring down at her drink. "More trouble than I care for to say the least actually. He is continuely questions and quizes on every decision I made on the mission, just looking for a mistake, so he can hang me out to dry. It's not helping either, that T'zark ran his high and mighty mouth questioning my orders. Why couldn't we get a normal vulcan, instead of an egotistical, hyper-emotional hormone driven one?