thefinestinthefleet:
Jim allowed himself to be dragged, laughing all the while. “Fine, then. I’ll do it.” He pointed to his chest in the general region where he would like it, as well.
“Really, your chest?” She rolled her eyes just a little, chuckling. “Copycat.” She plopped down in the chair, smiling just a little before fussing with her cami. She had to pull it down, the man told her, and move her bra aside enough to tattoo it properly. She nodded in agreement, doing so, not daring to look at Jim as she did so.
Jim snickered lightly, his inner twelve-year-old getting the best of him as he gave a catcall. The tattoo artist glared. Like a dumbass, though, Jim ignored it. Suddenly, the wrath of the tattoo-er was upon him, and he cringed under it, apologizing.
Sammy chuckled as the tattoo artist bore down on Jim, getting up to put a hand on the larger man’s shoulder. “It’s fine, I swear. He’s just an idiot, and he’s going to shut up now, right?” She glared at Jim for a millisecond before going back to the chair, pulling her hair back into a sloppy ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way as the large man started drawing out the guides for the design on her chest.
thefinestinthefleet:
Jim muttered a that’s what she said, and then watched the exchange with mild amusement and interest. “And if I get one, will you not nag me?”
Sam stuck her tongue out at him briefly, then went back to the man behind the counter. He nodded as she drew out the symbol she wanted tattooed, smiling a little and not questioning. He led her to a chair and she grabbed Jim’s arm, dragging him along. “Nope! You will be completely nag-free, Jim. Scout’s honor.”
Jim allowed himself to be dragged, laughing all the while. “Fine, then. I’ll do it.” He pointed to his chest in the general region where he would like it, as well.
“Really, your chest?” She rolled her eyes just a little, chuckling. “Copycat.” She plopped down in the chair, smiling just a little before fussing with her cami. She had to pull it down, the man told her, and move her bra aside enough to tattoo it properly. She nodded in agreement, doing so, not daring to look at Jim as she did so.
thefinestinthefleet:
littlesissammy:
thefinestinthefleet:
Jim’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Those actually work?” He shook his head. “And I can’t. I have a job to do. Getting a tattoo is considered… unprofessional. Plus, Pike would have my head on a platter.”
“Yeah, of course they do!” She grinned, tugging on his arm. “Get it somewhere people won’t see it, then! Like your chest or your upper arm or something. They’re not that hard to hide, y’know.” She laughed, dragging him inside. “But yeah, they’re really effective. If you do it right, I mean. But it’s not that hard to do properly!” She walked up to the counter, smiling a little at the man behind it before starting the conversation.
Jim muttered a that’s what she said, and then watched the exchange with mild amusement and interest. “And if I get one, will you not nag me?”
Sam stuck her tongue out at him briefly, then went back to the man behind the counter. He nodded as she drew out the symbol she wanted tattooed, smiling a little and not questioning. He led her to a chair and she grabbed Jim’s arm, dragging him along. “Nope! You will be completely nag-free, Jim. Scout’s honor.”
Uh… Hey, guys.
I’ve been away on a job—it was nice to get some work done, y’know?
Anyway, I’m back. What’s up?