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Tennessee, Earth - Home Sweet Home

Posted June 17, 2021, 10:24 a.m. by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Federation Security Agent) (James Sinclair)

Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Tennessee, Earth - Home Sweet Home

Posted by Civilian Micah Pikelsimer (Federation Security Agent) in Tennessee, Earth - Home Sweet Home

Posted by Commander Shara Calloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Tennessee, Earth - Home Sweet Home
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

She chuckled as she moved out of the bathroom, intentionally labouring her steps to provoke him. But she did so with a grin.

Retrieving her mug from the window sill, she made her way back down the stairs and into the large living space. “I brought my guitar, but you know this place is missing a piano. A grand or baby-grand. Totally incongruent, but that’s the point, right?” she said settled onto the couch to finish the last of her coffee.

~Shara

“I got about as much musical ability as that mug yer drinkin’ out of. But I do have a bit of a music selection. Maybe tonight you can pick out some stuff for us to listen to. Now… you drink and I’ll go get some fishin’ gear.” He winked at her and walked outside, closing the door behind him.

“I’ll be here,” she said, leaning back and settling herself into the corner of the couch. Sipping her coffee, she mused about a couple things she had to take care of while she was on Earth, but really she was happy to just be here with Micah. It didn’t surprise her that she’d never invited anyone here before, but it still surprised her that he invited her. Sure, they had a pretty strong connection, but people like them were lone wolves most of the time. Then again, it wasn’t like she was moving in permanently.

Fifteen minutes later he came back in. “Hey, babe. You ready?”

Micah

“Yeah,” Shara said softly, rising from the couch and setting the now empty mug on the coffee table. She could put it in that kitchen later. Moving over to Micah, she held out a hand for a rod. “Okay Pikelsimer, lead us to dinner. Let’s hope they’re biting right now.”

~Shara

“Well if they ain’t, I’ll pick up the slack for ‘em.” and he kissed then nibbled her neck before handing her a pole. “Ok, lets go see what we can catch.”

With a grin, she kissed his cheek and followed him out.

He led her out of the house clearing and past the ship, into the woods, and down an old trail partially overgrown. In some places the trail disappeared entirely, but Micah moved as if it was there and paved in stone. He was also ridiculously quiet… the kind of silent movement that came from a familiarity with the land and nature only achieved by living in it for long periods.

While Shara couldn’t move quite as silently as he did given this was new terrain, she proceeded with the expert movements of someone who was used to not drawing attention to herself and each footfall was sure and soft.

Soon, they moved downhill… steeply… and then came to wide, crystal clear creek. The other side was almost fifty yards away, and the water flowed from left to right; with the sound of rapids or waterfall from somewhere upstream. “Here we go. Trout, brown and rainbow. Maybe some perch as well. You know how to fly fish?” he asked as he took a wicker creel and set it in the water.

Micah

“Eh, been a long time but give me a quick refresh and I’ll be fine. Been a long time since I’ve had to actually catch my own dinner,” she said with a grin. “But then again, I’ve grown to actually like ration packs. Been my staple more times than I prefer to admit,” she said with a throaty chuckle.

~Shara

Micah wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. “Oh no… that’ll never do. We need to get you some good food right away.” He stepped into the water up to his thighs and unspooled line from the reel as he went. “Come on in. Waters cool, but we can warm up later.” and he grinned and gave her a wink.

“So fly fishing… all in the wrist action. Tip of the pole is the barrel of the gun, line is the beam. Hold the line in your left hand to keep it untangled as it feeds through, whip with the right.” He demonstrated, and promptly messed up. GRinning he said “So not like that.” as he reset and untangled the loose line. A few practice flicks of his wrist and he had the rhythm back and was soon sending the fly in long arcs across the creek. “When you get a bite, let ‘em run a bit before you set the hook, ok? Need the fly in their mouth, otherwise you’ll yank it right out.”

Micah


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