<div align="center"><strong>Kris Fielding : Gym </strong></div><br/>Moving out of the way of his punches, they didn't even have a chance to hit.<br/><br/>"Really?  Because from what I've seen almost no one has done their jobs today.  Everywhere I go people are standing around joking with each other.  I'm surprised you haven't noticed, at the mention of indiscretions she moved to her left, allowing her brows to lift only slightly.<br/><br/>"Perceived slight?  In my book that doesn't count as an apology."  She made a jab at his abdomen, "You insinuated at dinner that I had no trust in a member of the crew while she was right there, with no proof behind your words."  Another jab to his chin.  "You belittled my abilities as an investigator by implying that the only results would be little and unimportant."  Another jab to his side.  "You also do this by implying that an alone "check up" from a newly appointed chief engineer would be more valuable than a joint investigation between the two sections.  If you find my abilities so lacking than get rid of me already!"  She moved back, her breathing erratic,  she didn't want to spar with the man any more, she just wanted to be alone.<br/><br/>Pulling off her gloves she throws them down onto the floor and yanks off her head gear.<br/><br/>"Forget it. I suddenly don't feel like being around you.  You win."  With that she walked away, needing to barricade herself into her room.  She knew she was good at what she did, but there was still this underlying blanket of doubt.  She would never be good enough, no matter where she went there was always some man telling her that she needed to do things better, faster, and she was sick of it.  Sick of the whole damn thing.