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(Bug entry. See my cjrp_ooc post for more info on the methods… - Crossing Jordan RPG

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May 15th, 2005


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drvijay
12:26 pm
(Bug entry. See my cjrp_ooc post for more info on the methods behind my madness.)


“Only Buggles could make a Caribbean Cruise into his own private creepy-crawler convention.”

As luck would have it, Bug had been rather enjoying the sunlight, fresh ocean breeze, and calming rocking motion of the cruise ship on the waves before the familiar, nails-on-the-chalkboard voice of one Roz Framus interrupted his lovely day. His dark eyes peered over the top of the book at hand, and he scowled. “Don’t call me that,” he commanded.

Smirking, Roz stuffed her hands into her pockets – an accomplishment, given that her ridiculously short skirt appeared to be painted on. “Fine, Mahesh,” she replied, flopping down into the chaise lounge next to his own. He rolled his eyes and returned to his reading, noticing out of the corner of his eye that she was scowling. “Are you going to spend this entire week reading up on – ” She paused and leaned forward, peering at the title of his book. “ – 1001 Types of Maggots?”

Sighing, he lowered the book a second time. “Yes,” he replied coolly. She leaned back on her hands, the sun glinting off the vast amounts of fairly pale skin revealed by her too-short, too-tight tank top. She looked distinctively like a desperate teenage girl, at least in Bug’s eyes. “What does it matter to you how I spend my week, anyway?”

“Point taken, Buggles,” she sighed, rising to her feet as he raised the book to his eyes again. She paused, cocking her head of curls at him. “Do you at least want to grab lunch?”

“I’m going with Nigel,” he replied irritably, turning the page.

She arched an eyebrow. “That’s going to be awfully hard, considering the fact I just saw him cannonballing into the ship pool with no less than six bikini-clad twenty-somethings cheering him on.” Bug’s eyes lowered over the edge of his book, and she shrugged. “What?”

He sighed and shut the book. “I’m hungry,” he informed her irritably as he pulled his sunglasses – his only ocean-related impulse purchase since news of the cruise had reached his ears – from his pocket and slipped them on.

Roz smirked. “I’m sure you are, Buggles,” she chuckled, looping an arm in his. “If you’re lucky, I just might buy you a pina colada.”

“If you’re lucky,” he responded tersely as they started towards the dining room, “I just might let you.”

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