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“Boimler, we have to go!” Mariner whispered sharply, back pressed up against the wall and phaser in hand as she kept watch. “Like… now!”
“Come on, come on…! Almost done…” Boimler worried his lip and tapped his hand against the monitor as if it would make the progress bar go faster.
“Boimler!”
“Got it! Let’s go!” He removed the data chip with a satisfying beep and pocketed it. Mariner grabbed his forearm and practically dragged him out of the building just as the door she was guarding swung open.
“Crap, crap, crap! They definitely saw our faces,” she let Boimler go as she started sprinting down the alley. Boimler followed close behind. “I thought you said it would take less than a minute!”
“Sorry, they had a kind of encryption my program didn’t recognize. It had to decode it on the fly,” he explained, glancing behind him. Three armed guards burst out of the building and began their pursuit. “Check your 6, you think we can take these guys?”
Mariner turned for a second and then proceeded to pick up the pace. “Nope. Five more just joined them. Best to just book it,” she shook her head. Boimler stumbled a little but he caught himself, sprinting to catch up with her. The two ensigns swerved down several different alleyways, the sandy colored buildings blending together.
“Why’d they build this place like a maze? Talk about bad urban planning,” Boimler complained, but breathed a sigh of relief as they burst free from the confines of the alleyway and into an open plaza with a bustling market. If a fight broke out, it could endanger civilians, but it would be easier to blend in and hide until the danger passed.
While Boimler caught his breath, Mariner peered back into the alley. “I hear voices, they’re still on our tail. Follow me!” she ordered, rushing off to the opposite side of the plaza. Boimler, still winded, had to weave his way through civilians and market stalls to keep up with her. He barely had a second to register that they had stopped moving before Mariner started giving orders again.
“You’ve got a shirt on under your uniform, right? Good.” Mariner was already opening the flap of her uniform top, taking it off and quickly replacing it with an off-the-shoulder crop in the typical local fashion.
“Wha-? Where did you get that?” Boimler did a double take. She certainly didn’t have it before. She didn’t have the matching burgundy sarong before either.
“Bought it from a stall while you were struggling to catch up,” she said like it was obvious.
“With what money?” He balked, blinking hard a few times before shaking his head and scrambling to comply with her orders. He undid the flap of his uniform and took it off, thankful for his cream colored undershirt. Mariner grabbed both of their uniforms, balled them up, and then chucked them in a seemingly random direction. “Mariner!” Brad groaned, but she slapped a hand over his mouth and stepped so her back was flush with the terracotta wall behind her.
“Shut up, look, they’re in the crowd. Turn and face me-” she instructed, watching him follow her commands stiffly, “- I have an idea. I saw it in one of those old holovids my mom made me watch with her on shore leave.”
Boimler rolled his eyes, struggling to be both exasperated and anxious at the same time. “Great. Our lives depend on a thing you saw in a holovid.” Mariner took her hair out of her ponytail and Brad watched her curls fall down and over her shoulders. They really framed her face nicely.
She sighed. “Come on, look, do you trust me?” Mariner gripped his shoulders, grounding him. He made a noncommittal sputtering noise. “They’ve seen our faces, we need to hide them! Just roll with it, okay? Act natural but don’t make it weird!”
He opened his mouth to interject but before he could get a single word out, Beckett shut him up with the last thing he had ever expected. Arms draped over his shoulders, she pulled him closer with a motion so fast it was almost violent. Her lips crashed into his and Boimler froze, turning bright red and pulling back to apologize. Before he stammered out his apology for stumbling like that, she shot him an intense look. It was the kind of look that let him know that it was no accident.
Well, that explained the ‘don’t make it weird’ part of the plan. He swallowed and glanced nervously at her lips. Too late, already weird. Mariner let him take just a second to break the kiss and gather his thoughts before she moved one hand to the back of his neck, grabbed the base of his hair, and tugged him right back in.
Boimler’s mind and heart were racing with each other to see which one could kill him first. Mariner snapped him back to reality by tightening her grip on his hair, the small jolt of pain and surprise bringing him back into the moment. Her eyes were closed, her lips were on his, and her free hand had moved to rest on Brad’s chest. Right. Acting natural.
Since the world was now upside down and logic no longer existed, sure, why not! He ignored the voice screaming inside of his brain, switching to autopilot. Still blushing, he allowed himself to relax a little. He melted into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as he placed his hands on her hips. Even Winger Bingston had nothing on the performance Brad was giving, managing to act as though his heart wasn’t about to burst out of his chest at any moment.
Mariner smirked into the kiss, the corner of her mouth quirking up against his in amusement. She had felt him relaxing a little, and they hadn’t been killed yet, so her plan was working. She was glad Boimler was going along with it. She was even more glad that he was too caught up in his own head to realize that her heart was beating just as fast as his.
The initial shock had worn off at this point, and Brad’s brain started to accept what was happening. This was the plan, huh? He had to admit, it was clever. Their faces wouldn’t be seen if they were slammed together. It wasn’t uncommon to kiss in public on this planet either. Feeling more Bold™, he allowed himself to stop dissociating and just exist in the moment.
Now able to exist in his body without passing away, he realized that the kiss was… not great. It was less of a kiss and more like he was just standing there and holding her hips while she attacked his face. Embarrassed, he tried to remember how to actually kiss someone.
Beckett’s brow raised a little in surprise when she felt him actually kiss back in earnest. Bold Boimler was alive and well, it seemed. Her heart skipped a beat and she breathed a sigh against his lips.
He was sloppy at first, teeth and noses bumping against each other. He realized how desperate and starving he seemed and he quickly backtracked, calming down and just letting the kiss remain gentle and slow.
Mariner shushed the voice in the back of her head that was slightly disappointed that he had toned it down. Part of her wanted to take charge and bring up the intensity, but she didn’t want to kill Brad. More importantly, she had to follow her own instructions. Act natural, but don’t make it weird.
His lips were soft against hers and she could swear he was trembling a little. She even thought she had heard him whimper at one point, but that might have been her imagination.
The kiss had, in reality, only been happening for around half a minute at this point. Mariner paused, breaking the kiss for a second to catch her breath and check for their pursuers. They were still searching the area, so she shot Brad a look that was somehow both devious and apologetic. He looked dazed, but he shook it off and raised an eyebrow at her. She couldn’t quite tell if that look was meant to mean ‘what the hell, Mariner?!’ or ‘are they still looking for us?’ so she decided to respond to both.
“They’re still searching,” she whispered sharply. “Remember, they saw-”
Brad shot her a stern look and made a ‘shush’ motion with his hand.
“Yeah, yeah. Our faces. And our uniforms. I get the idea,” he replied, far quieter than her harsh whisper. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath ghosting across her skin. She was taken aback, surprised by the fact that he wasn’t in a state of confused panic. Quite the opposite, actually, Brad seemed to be having the same adrenaline rush that he always experienced during the simulation drills. His expression changed for a moment as he seemed to realize something.
“They also probably noticed our body language.” At her look of confusion, he elaborated. “You know, how you’re always confident and I’m-”
“Mmm, pathetic in every way? Yeah,” she teased, making sure she was quiet too. As she said that, Boimler felt his cheeks heat up again. The playful glint in her eyes almost made him back down and forget his idea. He steeled himself and continued.
“Yeah. That. Remember, act natural, don’t make it weird,” he mocked back, “and make sure we’re unrecognizable.”
With that, his entire body language changed. He stopped slouching, he moved his hand to her cheek with a level of confidence he absolutely did not have, and he placed his other hand on the wall next to her. He had basically recreated that stupid cliche where the guy pins the girl to the wall and towers over her before they kiss. The roles would have been reversed with their usual dynamic, so Mariner’s brain seemed to short circuit.
She then noticed that, despite the fake confidence, his touch was gentle. He was purposefully making it so that she wasn’t actually pinned, letting her know that she could bail if she was too uncomfortable. She rolled her eyes, fighting back a fond smile. The gesture was pointless, she could overpower him even without it and he knew that, but it was such a Boimler thing to do. Under the Bold™ exterior, she was reminded that he was still her dork. She felt her cheeks heat up as he closed the gap, pressing their lips together once more.
---
“Are they-” Boimler stammered out between kisses, “- are they gone yet?” It had been more than enough time for the 8 pursuers to sweep the plaza and move on, but Mariner hadn’t given the all clear yet. Mariner grinned and pulled back, catching her breath.
“Oh, the bad guys? Yeah, I haven’t seen any of them in like, five minutes,” she shrugged, an amused look on her face. Brad floundered for a moment before she hooked her leg around him, swapping their positions in one quick motion. Now he was against the wall, all boldness drained out of him. Balance was restored.
He looked dazed, hair ruffled, skin flushed, and lips swollen.
“Better safe than sorry, right? Let’s stay for a few more minutes, make sure we’ve really lost ‘em,” she smirked, waiting for his reply.
Brad blinked up at her. He was dizzy, his limbs felt like jelly, and he was about 70 percent sure that he had entered another coma because he was certain this had to be a dream.
He gave a weak smile, an expression that made her so ridiculously fond that she couldn’t wait to kiss it off of him.
“Yeah… okay!”