Winter Ball (/tg/, ss13, lizards, semi-lewd)

Winter.  At least, that's what Nanotrasen said it was.  According to their antiquated Earth calendars, it was a time for holiday cheer and festivities.  All of this amounted to just some plastic pine trees being strewn about the station.  Nobody cared.  There were no presents to be had, and the only Santa that ever came to visit was some cheeky costumed reject from the Wizard Federation.

One day, the crew was awakened in the middle of the night by a barrage of noise coming from the bar.  Upon inspection, they found the establishment to be completely refurnished.  Gone were the dining tables and chairs.  Fluorescent tiles now adorned the floor, emanating soft pastel lights that alternated between holiday greens and reds.  Cookies were being deployed en masse near the bar's Christmas tree by a peacekeeping borg.  A poorly-painted candy cane stripe wrapped around its glossy white frame.  Behind the counter, a service borg did its best attempt at Shiva as its dozen appendages set about filling punch bowls, spiking eggnog, and playing synthesized classics with its built-in orchestra.

"WINTER BALL MAY NOW COMMENCE," stated the Station AI.  It was not met with much fanfare.

The crew shuffled in, most of them making a bee line for the punch.  Life in space bred a strong desire to drink, and a weak tolerance to booze. The peacekeeping borg tried its best to pair up people and push them onto the center of the room to dance.  It spun and waved its tiny arms about as it instructed how to do a proper Waltz.  Nobody cared.  Just holding hands with one another was a monumental task for most of the crew on the station.

Leaning against the decommissioned slot machines in the corner of the bar was Garithos Humies.  In these holiday hues he stood out like a sore thumb, with a mane of green and a beard of purple.  He pretended to sip on some punch while his other hand thumbed something that bulged out his lab coat pocket.  His feet hurt.  He wished he has back in the xeno lab, lounging with his slime friends in solitude.  At least his oddly-colored hair didn't clash with the rainbows that his blobby specimens portrayed.

The dancing borg settled on being a middleman between couples.  It carried out physical contact indirectly, raising limp wrists upwards and presenting its egg-like body as a barrier between any actual hugging.  Garithos shifted his gaze away from the debacle and back towards the bar's Christmas tree, noticing someone sitting between the piles of cookies surrounding its base.  She was a lizard dressed in the chaplain's standard black garb.  Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her tail coiled around her legs.  She was clutching at a rather worn-out carp plushie.  Probably forgot to leave it behind when she got out of bed.

He found himself weaving through the woozy pairs to the girl.  An attempt at a suave approach was bungled by tripping over a mound of cookies.  Garithos found himself staring up at the girl.  He had fallen straight onto her doll.  It felt nice against the back of his head.

"HI! DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?" He autistically screeched out.  He had no indoor voice. Reptilian scorn beamed down upon his face.

"I come to the bar all the time.  SSStupid human."
"YOU LOOK NICE!  YOU REMIND ME OF MY MOTHER!"
"...Your mother'sss a lizard?"

He smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Who isss your dad then?"
"A GIANT CUCK!"

She let out a heavy sigh.

"What do you want?"
"TO DANCE! WITH YOU!"

Garithos pointed out to the dance floor.  People were started to sway back towards the outskirts before collapsing.  The candy cane borg was trying to give some poor girl support as she hawked up her guts.

"LOOK! IT'S NOT TOO CROWDED RIGHT NOW!"

He didn't wait for a reply.  In a single motion he leapt to his feet and hoisted the lizard into his grasp.  She was taken back, but not entirely unwilling to go along with his japery.  His head jolted around like a bird's as he tried to posture and angle her just right.  One hand up and clasped with another.  The other arm wrapped around her waist.  Breast to breast, or whatever lizards had on their chests.  Circular steps to the beat of the bartender's tune.  The Waltz.

"SO WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"
"Sssoothesss-The-Wound."
"I'M GARITHOS! THAT CARP MUST MEAN A LOT TO YOU!"

She limply held onto the doll with her free hand.  Her partner's childish grin never faltered, even as sorrow welled up in her downcast eyes.

"DID YOU NOT LIKE THE PUNCH? YOU LOOK LIKE YOU COULD USE A DRINK!"
"I'm not drinking this ssswill.  There'ssss sssome wine with my name on it at the chapel."
"COULD MY NAME BE ON IT TOO?"

The air reeked of booze and iron.  Inert bodies piled up in pools of scarlet vomit.  Soothes knew from the start that something was wrong here.  Garithos, however, was utterly obvious.  The positive and negative of a one-track mind.  Any excuse to leave would be ideal. "Sssure," she said.

With hands still firmly grasped, she slowly guided their dance towards the exit.  The doors slammed shut and bolted just as they left the bar.  What was once a saunter broke into a sprint starboard-bound.  The borgs weren't giving chase, but she didn't want to risk any chance of getting caught.  Garithos just thought she was really into him.  Oh, how proud his dad would be right now!

The chapel office was scarcely furnished, but well kept.  Soothes dimmed the lights and rummaged around in her desk to produce a bottle of vintage wine.  She motioned him to take a seat.  Both available chairs were cheap fold-up affairs, but Garithos didn't mind.  With no bottle opener at hand, she unintentionally impressed him by popping the cork with her index claw before passing it to him.  "No cupsss.  I don't get many visssitorsss."

The wine was smooth and calmed his nerves, but he sure wished he wasn't drinking on an empty stomach.  He had something to eat, but it wasn't for him.  Garithos passed the bottle back, hoping for an indirect kiss to happen.  She instead opened her maw wide and poured the rest down her gullet.

"Want to do a girl a favor?" She asked, as she dumped the empty container down disposals.  He nodded at breakneck speed.  "Put this on."

He was presented with a dusty suit from her cabinet.  Plastic purple scales adorned its ragged form, with sticky stains streaked across its front and rear.  Its hood was stitched foam that crudely portrayed a dreaded space carp with its razor mouth  gaping open.  Garithos carefully laid down his lab coat on his seat and switched into the costume without a word.  He was far too deep in this to question anything now.  Soothes drunkenly swung onto the top of her desk and let her legs dangle over the edge in front of him.

"Chrissstmasss came early, Sssaltsss.  Open me up."

Garithos was sweating bullets.  Who is Salts?  What does he do next?  Are the gods watching?  He's on sacred ground, of course they are.  What would his dad do?  He always saw Stevens boop his mother on her snout.  First base.  Easy.

Gingerly, he reached out to rub her nose.  Soothes closed her eyes, expecting a bit more, but she couldn't argue with the sensations it caused.  "Lower," she said, unzipping her jumpsuit.

Her tummy! Of course.  Most animals liked getting pet there.  Surely the same logic applied to lizards.  He couldn't find a navel to focus on, but his hands went to work and rubbed her sleek abdominals.  She let out a gasp and arched back, stiffening more and more as she flattened herself against the desk.  That's the ticket, surely!  Garithos kept at it as he rummaged for something in his coat.  This was it.  Of all the things he was unsure about, he knew there was one thing his mother always loved.  His parents would brazenly do it out in public all the time.  It had to work.

"I'M PUTTING IT IN! ARE YOU READY?!"

She was at a loss of words.  If only he knew earlier just how good he was with his hands!

"HERE IT COMES!"

Just one shot.

From his coat pocket came a banana cream pie.

With the force of a thousand retards, Garithos slammed the custard pastry into Soothes' face.  She flipped head over heels past her desk, shattering her chair before finally landing on the carpeted floor.  She laid there, twitching, in a crumpled mess of dairy and metal.  Garithos leaned over and looked at her with the face of a Special Olympics gold medalist.

"WAS IT GOOD FOR YOU TOO!?"