#freelanceragentoregon

The Mother of Invention's tech crew may be capable of running a giant ass space frigate, or even the weapons and equipment that was onboard, but as both South and Oregon were finding out, they can't fix the heating at all. South was sitting in the recovery room, next to North's bed with her arms crossed over her chest. At least, that's how Oregon found her when she arrived in Recovery one with a blanket around her shoulders in an effort to keep warm. She looked down at North, watching as he slept in silence. "He won't be awake for another few hours." South's voice made Oregon jump a little and look at her. She was slumped in her seat, white-blond hanging over tired eyes and lips pressed together in a very light scowl. "Will he... be okay?" Oregon dared asking. South shrugged. "Probably. He's strong, so he'll be alright." She nodded and looked back at North before noticing South's shiver. Without hesitation, Oregon bundled the blanked that was around her shoulders and folded it up in her arms, then held it out to South. "What?" "Here... Y-you're cold... and you've got a long night ahead." The blond freelancer eyed her down for a few long moments before reluctantly taking the blanket. "Thanks." Oregon nodded her head and smiled a little before turning on her heel and starting to walk out. That was, until she heard South's voice. "Hey, uh, Oregon?" She turned to look at her, "y-yeah?" "When he wakes up, he's gonna want to see a friend... do you want to wait with me?" Oregon stood there for a moment, debating it in her head before ultimately giving in, turning around and sitting down next to South. A chill swept through the recovery room and caused both freelancers to shiver. "Here..." Oregon murmured, pulling the blanket from where it rest on South's lap and bringing it over both their shoulders. That might have even caused South to smile a little. "Thanks." "It's no problem... really..."

"Hey, Oregon, can I talk to you for a sec?" In all honesty, York coming up to her and asking to speak made her a little nervous, but she managed to swallow the lump in her throat and nod. "Sure, what's wrong?" He lets out a little sigh, "It's Wash... he's..." "Did you look in the third draw down in his dresser and find the pictures?" There's a pause before York nods, "Yeah... I was wondering if you had any idea what's up with that." Oregon slid her hands into her pockets and gave a little shrug, "He just likes cats, I suppose." "'Just likes cats'? I swear, he's a cat lady. I wonder if he gets withdrawal." The silence that stretches between them isn't awkward, rather, a knowledgeable one, when both parties are thinking the same thing. "York... Y-you can pick a lock, right?" Oregon asks him and he nods almost immediately. "Of course... You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" "We sneak in and take the pictures and see how he reacts?" A smile spreads across York's face and he nods. "He's got training later tonight. Meet me outside his room at eleven?" "Sure." -- It's half past eleven when York finally rocks up outside Wash's door, which left Oregon waiting there a full half hour alone. "Do you have everything to pick the lock?" She asks him, and he replies with a nod. "Of course. Keep a look out in case anyone comes." She takes her position leaning on the wall opposite Wash's door and folds her arms, watching as the other freelancer works on the lock. In a matter of seconds, the lock turns green and the door opens without a sound. "Ha!" York's face was beaming when it looked back at Oregon, "You coming in?" She shook her head, "No, in case someone comes." With a shrug, he proceeded to creep into the darkened room and make his way to the dresser. It's only when Oregon sees York open the drawer when an alarm goes off, leaving him cursing as he scoops up all of the photos and sprints out of the room. "The drawer had an alarm, Oregon, run!" Oregon blinked for a moment, dumbfounded before finally running after York, catching up as much as she could before he reached his own room. He opened the door as quickly as he could and stepped aside to let Oregon though, the two of them stumbling in, out of breath, and shutting the door behind them. "You... okay... Oregon?" York panted, looking down to the ground where all the pictures of cats spilled out of his arms and on to the carpet. "Y-yeah... I'm... fine..." She huffed before her eyes widened. "Uuuh... York?" "Yeah?" "... That's a lot of cats..." "And he still thinks he's not a catlady." "... He needs help."

Late nights on the Mother of Invention usually meant coffee in the rec room for CT and Oregon, especially when the ship's on board technicians overclocked the air conditioning and the ship was ten degrees colder than it had any right to be. They both sat on the couch, cradling the mugs filled with the steaming beverage and content with the blankets piled on top of them. "CT?" Oregon asks after taking a sip from the mug, looking over to the other freelancer on the couch. "Hmm?" She looks back with and eyebrow raised, "What?" "W-what was your favorite thing to do... back before the war...?" She smiled at Oregon before a thoughtful look crossed her face. CT was like this for a few moments before finally speaking. "Stargazing." "Stargazing?" "Yeah, there was nothing I wanted more than to fly through the stars. I guess it didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it." There was a brief pause in which the two both took mouthfuls of coffee before CT spoke again. "What about you?" "It's the same for me. They just seemed so pretty... and hopeful..." Oregon let out a sigh and gave CT a little smile as she hauled herself onto her feet, "I should be going to bed... I have training in the morning." The freelancer still sitting on the couch nodded in response, "'Night then." "'Night." And then Oregon left the room with barely a noise, leaving the other agent on the couch, still sipping her coffee with a slight smile on her face.

Oh, Oregon, I--wow, I don't really know how to... I mean, this is really nice... It's all the same for you, honestly. I...you're welcome, I guess. and, thank you, too.

((Oregon is a friend, definitely. He feels that, should he ever need to talk to anyone or confide in them, she would probably be the best to do so with. Partly because yes, she's so shy that she rarely talks to anyone, but also because he's almost certain that she'd keep a secret for him.))

[Text] God, I hope you're alive.

[Messages Deleted]

But--that's--that can totally be explained by something else! It's not--we're not--it isn't what it sounds like!