<div align="center"><strong>-= Simeon Gaorong - making a cameo appearance in his own movie - aboard The Gamble =-</strong></div><br/>It was too early to be awake on a non-working day. Not that any day aboard The Gamble is truly a non-working day for its First Officer, but Sasha had nothing urgent planned that day. No ground assault to stage. No robbery to plot. No protection escort to lay out. They didn't even have any diplomatic conversations to endure. There was literally nothing but the daily mundane tasks of running the ship on her plate, and yet she lay awake, her mind too active to let her drift back off for the next few hours that she wouldn't be needed outside of her cabin. It was hard not to be annoyed at herself. As if the Captain's interventions to prevent her getting her proper down time when she had the opportunities weren't enough, now she was robbing herself of rest on top of it?<br/><br/>She wouldn't let herself stew uselessly for long. If she was going to be awake, fine, she'd be awake. There were other ways to pass some time before going on duty.<br/><br/>Sasha lifted herself gingerly from her bunk, leaving the sheets rumpled behind her as she rose and stretched her arms up over her head, displaying the loveliness of her bare body to her uncaring metal quarters in a luxurious moment of posturing. Time seemed to slow down, fixating on her bare back and shoulders, the lengths of her legs, the bending of her arms behind her head atop the spill of her tousled hair. Wonderful.<br/><br/>Eventually reality set itself back in motion to let the ship's first mate progress to her sink for a quick splash and slurp from her hands, a few moments spent looking at herself in the built-in mirror where she's bent over the basin, watching her own face until she had to smile. Ah, not her own face; she was looking at the edge of her bed where she could see its reflection over her shoulder. She righted herself and turned, back pressed to the edge of her sink, crossed her arms over her breasts and her legs at the ankles, a cocksure smile on her face. "I should have known you'd be awake, too," she said. There was a hint of chastisement in her voice as she asked, "How long have you been watching me, Si?"<br/><br/>Simeon's eyes opened.<br/><br/>It had been so solid, so sure, that waking up was disorienting. He was in his quarters, where he was supposed to be, but it felt strange and off-kilter as he sat up and turned to the edge of his cot. He was on time, as usual (and irritated by that for just a moment, wondering how much longer the dream might have gone had he slept in for a while), but felt late, heavy. For a moment, just a moment, he felt his age catching up to him. The active, virile, passionate Simeon was far away in the bed of an unfairly attractive young lady, while over here he was sitting in a quiet, ship-temperature cabin by himself.<br/><br/>Then he got over it. Damned if he would idle on such discouraging thoughts when the future looked so very promising. He may have awakened an older man, but he rose from his bed with the confidence of one with plenty of vigor yet in his bones. With that brief lapse out of the way he carried on with his usual routine, concluding his resolution of his recent brush with his fantasy life by collecting his towel and departing from his quarters en route to the upper deck shower, towel wrapped around his waist over his boxers as usual. Upon exiting his quarters he reflected briefly on another aspect of recent crew relations. He'd done his work as normal in recent weeks, but he'd given the Captain more space than usual since the incident in Sasha's quarters. It seemed best to give the man time to cool his head and recall reasonable priorities. A quick shower would help put everything to order and ready him for the day ahead. That is the strength of routine.