Evelyn

"When did the British forces get involved in American expeditions?" She raises a brow while raiding through the kitchen cupboards. "I thought they were trying to back out of American business."

"I wouldn't know." He leans against the metal counter, peering up at where she's knelt on said metal counter in an attempt to reach the higher cupboard. "De-commissioned soldier."

"You make it sound so clinical," She muses, pushing the pots and pans to the side. "Like a piece of machinery quietly taken down to be refurbished or replaced."

He doesn't deign to comment.

"Is there a reason we're looking through the kitchen appliances and not the pantry." Arms folded, brows raised and a superior tone. Absolutely not, nope, not on her watch. The poor tracker is gonna get humbled.

"I mean... you could." She murmured, finally finding what she wants. "But then you'd miss out on the box of brownies I've found."

He blinks in surprise at the cardboard she waves around before his face. Making a little delight noise of triumph Evelyn turns in place to hop down from the counter. But a hand stops her in place.

For a second she blinks in surprise at the calloused hand gripping her own but then she comes to her senses, accepting Conrad's help as she jumps down to the floor.

"Of course," He muses, sighing fondling. "The cooks always hoard the good stuff."

"And amateurs always raid the pantry first." Eve smirks up at the man but there's a warmth in his eyes. It's clear he quite likes the simple joys of life.

"So this isn't your first time breaking into military stores then." He teases, reaching into the offered box. "My, my, perhaps I should report your thievery."

"Hmmmm... it'll be hard to blame me." She taunts, taking the first bite of her own brownie. "What with them catching red handed."

He snorts when he catches onto her meaning. It seems Conrad was unfortunate enough to pick the brownie up from the gooey chocolate side. The chocolate sauce dripping down his hand deters him little but Eve finds it amusing to watch the tracker try and eat his brownie without getting it everywhere.

"You- you want a napkin." She giggles, watching him struggle but he waves her off.

"No, I've got it." She pauses, face slackening a little as he proceeds to the lick the chocolate off his hand because.... Fuck.

God she clearly hasn't been laid in a while because there is something horrifically attractive about the sharp definition of his jaw line and the way his tongue slides against the chocolate.

Eve clears her throat, busying herself with the last mouthful of her brownie before she makes a fool of herself.

Stupid.

Stupid, she curses herself.

It's one thing to know someone is attractive and another to act on it. Like Weaver, logically Eve knows she is a stunning woman with a beautiful mind and athletic physique, but just because Evelyn finds her pretty doesn't mean she needs to ogle her 24/7.

Which is what she currently wants to do with the fine specimen next to her. In her defence she hadn't really looked at him for the entirety of their walk over here. Plus it had been easy enough to hide her head in a cupboard and look for hidden food rather than face the attractive man head on.

She'd never been good at hiding her feelings.

Noah had worked it out in seconds.

Probably because she turned into a tomato whenever he was within 5 metres of her.

"So why did you decide to join back up?"

Eve hums in question, wondering what his meaning is. The tracker shrugs, folding his arms across his chest and she ignores the way his biceps bulge.

"Packard only approves military personnel, he would have thrown a fit if you weren't one. Not to mention you said it wasn't your first time on a warship."

"But?" She prompts, eager to hear his analysis of her.

"But you're wearing civilian clothes, still sensible and militant like and you came on through the civilian paperwork trail... So you went back home for a while and then... got bored."

A sad smile tugs at her lips.

"Close enough." She mutters but Conrad just stares at her, waiting for an actual answer. "I got bored of normie life."

He tilts his head to the side, almost puppy like in his curiosity. "There are plenty of other ways beyond the army to keep yourself entertained."

"Once you've tasted the good stuff it's hard to go back."

He opens his mouth as though to continue his interrogation but she cuts him off with a curious jerk of the chin at him.

"What about you? An ex-soldier turned tracker, what made you want to get back in the game?"

"They offered me money."

She scoffs rolling her eyes as she turns away from him. "Boring."

Eve busies herself with tiding away the crumbs and empty packets from their snack.

"Well I'm sorry we can't all have tragic stories that we're running from."

"Oh I'm running now." She raises her brows, a disbelieving smile spreading on her face. "And must my back story be tragic?"

"All back stories are tragic in some way."

"Debatable."

The bin closes with a resound thud.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･

"That sounds an awful lot like flirting to me."

"Oh shut up Weaver." Evelyn hisses at her but the photojournalist just rolls her eyes.

"You're the one who came to me for advice." There's something resigned in her eyes and guilt tugs at Evelyn's chest for dumping her ridiculous relationship problems on a stranger after only knowing her for a day. "Besides, what's wrong with casual sex."

"Because we're going to be stuck together for three months, what if we fight, if something goes wrong, what if it goes well!" She's spiralling now, thinking of consequences for an action that hasn't even happened.

"Evie, darlin." Weaver soothes, holding onto both of Evelyn's arms to keep her in place. "You have got to stop overthinking things. You are getting way ahead of yourself."

"Right, yeah, of course. How silly of me."

"It's not silly of you." Weaver frowned, clearly upset. "It's okay to be scared, you just can't let it control you like this."

Eve sighs, listening to her friend.

"When did you get so wise." She jests as they continue to walk through the ship in search of breakfast. "I don't recall this therapist's mind being here this morning."

"Oh this morning you were being a horny bitch." She teases and Evelyn gasps. "Not much a therapist can say at that point other than to 'get laid'."

Evelyn rolls her eyes but she still feels guilty for dumping all of this on Weaver.

"Hey," She stops Weaver in place before they reach the cafeteria. "Sorry for dumping all of this on you."

"No, it's no-"

"It is though." Evelyn forces a smile, fighting the urge to brush a stray piece of weavers hair behind her ear. "We met yesterday and the next day I'm spilling relationship drama on a crush."

Weaver opens her mouth, pauses and then looks away.

"What?" Eve worries, concerned that she might have been right and that Weaver isn't the type of person to enjoy these types of conversations. "If you want me to dial it back–"

"No, no." She reassures, forcing a smile. "It's not that I- I just..." She sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "It's nice, feeling normal for once. Having girlfriends who I can just gossip to."

Evelyn sags in relief. She gets it. That craving for civilian life, away from their side of the world that just sees carnage and death.

"I like it," A blush blooms on Weaver's cheeks. "Having a friend I could just chat to about meaningless bullshit."

Her eyes widen in horror, "Not that I mean your feelings are–"

"Mace." Eve laughs, cutting her off with a grin. "I get it, I do."

"You do." It's Weaver's turn to sag in relief. "Good, good."

She nods to herself, biting her lip and Eve can't help but watch as she does so.

"Right then." Weaver straightens up so Evelyn copies her. "Shall we."

"We shall." Evelyn raises her brows at their mock posh accents, grinning as she leads the way into the cafeteria.

"Oh, and Evie?" Weaver calls and Evelyn glances back to find the woman smiling softly, a hesitance in her eyes. "I quite liked having a nickname as well."

A nickname?

Oh. Mace.

Evelyn blushes, embarrassed that she had shortened the photojournalist's name without asking if that was something she was cool with. Some of the women in all male fields didn't take to nicknames well.

"I'll eh... Keep that in mind." Evelyn nods to herself before bustling into the cafeteria. God she's starving.

Evelyn grabs her tray, piling on a full English breakfast before going in search of a coffee. Or perhaps a decaf. It would normally perk her up but she doesn't want to risk getting jittery on her first day.

"Mornin Doc." One of the men called, Chapman she thinks. "Didn't expect to see you down in the mess hall."

She grins, pulling up a chair at the table. A few others of Packard's crew have pitched up at the table as well.

"Was I just supposed to miss breakfast?" She grins, stabbing into a sausage.

He rolls his eyes, "No, just the last doc ate in the med bay."

She pauses, fork halfway to her mouth. "Should I be in the med bay?"

"If anyone gets injured this morning," Packard drawls, arrogance just oozing off him. "Then it's his own damn fault."

The men laugh, pleased by their colonel's joke. Only Chapman and– Mills? – look a little put off by the comment. Eve just smiles, accepting the odd way of letting her mistake slide.

In her defence most docs stroll around the ship after getting the med bay set up. It gets boring on the day to day, so long as she can run to the ward fast enough it'll be fine. She hopes. Mostly she's just praying none of these buffoons get too rowdy and hurt themselves.

"Ah, Mr Conrad." Packard calls and Eve stiffens up as the man in question sits down beside her. "I was beginning to fear you had gotten lost."

"I wouldn't be much of a tracker then." He states, lips twitching into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Conrad glances at her, offering her a real smile this time and she doesn't hesitate to return it. Except when she turns back to her meal Chapman is smirking at her from across the table. He raises his brows but makes no comment thankfully.

"What did you do then," Weav– Mace, queries with a grin as she slides into the seat on the other side of Eve. "Sniff out the smell of bacon and follow it here."

"Precisely," He grins. "But I was certainly aided by the sight of Mills running half dressed through the hallway."

The table erupts into laughter, Eve joining in as Mills blushes and defends himself. His comrades pay little attention to his excuses and the poor lad is stuck looking a little embarrassed for the rest of the meal.

In truth the morning passed in a blur. A familiar routine had set in after the laughter at breakfast. Evelyn found herself bandaging up a few unfortunate shipmates who'd had encounters with badly strapped down equipment. Thankfully just bruises and scrapes, no broken bones.

A few had appeared in her doorway to stock up on prescription pills and to have injuries rechecked for sign off. First day tends to be filled with men keen to get back to their jobs rather than sitting down useless. Many of them don't do well in idle silences.

And then there were the handful who had appeared for the sole purpose of getting a good look at her. She wasn't surprised of course and she was certainly flattered but Eve couldn't help but laugh them all off. It was all fun and games flirting away with them, it made it easier to pull off the "i'm disappointed in you" argument when they stepped out of line.

But oh how it reminded her of Noah. He would always visit when he had spare time, dropping down even just in passing on his way through the ship. The number of detours that boy had to take.

But what she didn't expect was for Mason Weaver to turn up at her door with a shit eating grin.

A/N: Brie Larson is honestly one of my favourite actresses.