[center][h2]One Woman Wet T-Shirt Contest - Greenleaf, Day 3 
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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/nalNq9e.jpg[/img]     [img]https://i.imgur.com/diF6hFs.png[/img][/center]

JP/collab from [@Aalakrys] and [@sail3695]

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What she wouldn’t give fer a good ole toad floater of a thunderstorm jest ‘bout now.

Day’d started well enough.  She got up early tah have ‘er coffee afore cleanin’ out tha lower deck lav.  Once towels an’ rags was in the washer, she even snuck out tha topside hatch fer a spell,  where she stripped down tah unders an’ lay on ‘er stomach in tha mornin’ sun.  A good hour of that’s all she could stand, with her back tinglin’ an’ the hull gettin’ too hot tah touch.

Now, the heat an’ humidity was just brutal.  She done sweated through today’s tee shirt.
[b]Molly Malone’s Billiard Parlour and Foot Massage[/b] was now stuck tah  her like a new skin.  Fer tha umpteenth time, Abby moved her lawnchair tak keep in the boat’s shadow.  An’ it was then the fella come callin’.  

“Excuse me…miss?”

When Abby turned around, before her on the dock stood a rather lean, tall fella. Aside from the shiner discoloring the right side of his face and somewhat unkempt appearance, he looked like some sort of professional with his white lab coat and black scrubs underneath. Plenty of folks on Greenleaf wore similar outfits, or coveralls, that worked for the major pharmaceutical plant based in the city. This one just looked like he hadn’t seen a razor in a few days and decided to go with the style his night’s sleep - or lack thereof - gave him for his hairdo. “Is this the China Doll? It said the China Doll was a Firefly, and I don't see any others around... so...”

First thought come tah her mind was [i]he must be marinatin’ in all them clothes.[/i]  Second thought struck ‘er was [i]looks like ‘e slept in’em, tah boot.[/i]  Now, fair an’ sure she couldn’t fault a fella fer his late doin’s.  One look at them Skyes come draggin’ in at sunup made this fella look straight up kosher.  Even with that love tap on ‘is face.  “Sure’n it is,” Abby answered.  “How can we help?”

“Outstanding,” He said, brightening a little and diminishing the tiredness circling his unblemished eye a fraction. Nothing could help the other side. He glanced down as she swung the messenger bag around, its battered front cracked leather worn smooth. “I have something… a package. For your pilot.”

He sounded distracted, tired still, as he fished around inside and pulled out a wrapped bundle. He offered it over to the young woman, the contents concealed behind parcel paper and twine. 

[i]Now, it’s startin’ tah go sideways.[/i] Abby looked down on tha package he held out, then looked him over a second time.  “Fer our pilot, yah say,” she replied ‘thout reachin’ fer it.  “That pilot got a name?”

The man’s somewhat chipper disposition faltered, but only back to tiredness in those hazel eyes as his smile turned right upside down. His tone sounded more speculative as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I think she’s Penelope - that’s what the registry said when I looked her up.”

“How ‘bout yew?” the girl asked.  “What’s yer name?”

“Me? I’m Rowan.” He answered without hesitation, lowering the package only slightly since she didn’t seem to be willing to take it. “It says so on my… Oh.”

He flipped the work ID badge fastened to his coat pocket over: R. Randell. Obviously, he was not trying to be sneaky, because he wouldn’t be that great at it, it seemed. Or, he was really good at acting like it. But, that was highly unlikely given how easy-going he seemed to be about this whole thing. “Ha, they don’t put our first names on these things. Never noticed.”

The deckhand’s eyes laid on that badge.  [i]Randell.[/i]  She looked at ‘im again.  Man’s got some years, but not too old.  An’ them hazel eyes.  After last night’s surprises at Hap’s, her brainpan was still all a jumble of fam’ly mysteries an’ missed connections…enough tah kin if this here fella was the genuine article, her muddled nature could mess things right up fer a person she come tah care about.  “Ni hao, Rowan,” she finally said.  “Muh name’s Abby.  You a relation?”

“What? To you, no I don’t think so.” He answered without thought, then chuckled absently at his own joke. “Penelope, yes. She’s my second daughter. I, uh, had reason to believe she was on Greenleaf - alive, which I can’t tell you how much of a comfort that is… but anyway. Yeah, yes. I’m her father. Oh, and nice to meet you Abby, by the way.”

[i]Yup,[/i] Abby thought as a blush rose tah her cheeks, [i]I can sure screw up.[/i]  “Ah hell,” she give in, “here I am lettin’ yah bake out in the heat like this.  C’mon,” she waved toward the ramp, “lemme take yah inside.  I can getcha a cold drink while I figger out where she is.”

“Ah, no, thank you.” His affable light smile faded into a more sad one as he took a step back at the offer, waving his free hand then indicated his outfit as he added: “This is not as hot as it seems - specially engineered for the planet’s temperature. Anyway, after last night, I think it’s best not to cage her in. She’s always been like that, so … yeah.”

Though his tone remained light, it was certainly not as happy as he was making it out to be. He lifted the package. “If you could just give this to her, I’d appreciate it.”

Abby tucked the clipboard under one arm, so’s tah accept tha package with both hands.  “I surely will, sir,” she took it with a reverence, “but are yah certain?  I’m sure we could find ‘er in two shakes?”

For a brief moment, Rowan did consider the offer. It would be more than wonderful to see his daughter again. But, he knew what he said was true. Penelope was the sort to come on her own and only go further away if chased, especially when she didn’t want to be found. “I’m sure, Abby. Thank you for this. It… is more than enough to know she’s alive and well.”

Fer a moment, she almost begged, til she sussed that pang in ‘im.  Couldn’t never tell what drew wedges intah families.  But tha pain was always there.  “Okay…” she give in.  “Shiny.  Jest lettin’ yah know that we’re here til noon tomorrah, if yah change yer mind.”

There was likely a part of him that would have preferred not to know that, but he thanked her all the same before heading back down the docking port. If Penelope had a mind to see him, then at least he’d know when to stop expecting her. Still, he smiled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled on home.

“May tha road rise,” she said softly tah Mister Randell’s back.  Abby studied the bundle in ‘er hands with a might uncertainty, afore common sense kicked in an’ she headed up tha ramp.  She’d stepped through tha after hatch when that cool air hit ‘er.  Fer all tha gooseflesh it raised ‘neath her sweatshoked tee shirt, Abby took one look an’ knew she’d have tah change afore meetin’ anybody, especially one ‘o’ the men.

She’d jest about tah head fer her room when Pen come boundin’ down the steps.  “Oh, hey Pen,” Abby greeted her with tha package.  Just met a man says he’s yer daddy.  He broughtcha this.”

Penelope’s lifted hand in greeting froze with the rest of her just for a spell. Her tired features which resembled her father’s about the eyes went from contentment to mild hesitate panic. But, it was gone in a blink, beings he wasn’t standing around in view. She smiled as she reached to take a parcel. “Thanks, Abbs. I hope he wasn’t any trouble.”
The deckhand shook ‘er head.  “Not a’tall.  I invited ‘im in, but he turnt that down.  Gotta tell yah true I’s a little hard tah be ‘til I conjured who he was.”  Her eyes showed some remorse at her earlier behavior.  “Hope I didn’t put ‘im off, Pen.”

“Knowing him, he probably didn’t think nothin’ of it.” There was fondness to that statement as Penelope’s easy smile returned. “I was on my way to shower - it was an interesting night last night…”

The dried remnants of white and yellow smears that remained on her face-paint Cyd had done up all streaks along her temple and cheek. There may have been a leaf in her hair, which she tucked back behind her ear and found in the process. As she pulled it free, she asked: “Say, did you get out into the city any?”

Abby nodded ‘er head.  “Got tah do some traipsin’ about.  Had a perty good night of it, but weren’t nothin’ excitin’...leastways compared tah tha Skyes when they come in this mornin’.”  She spied the erant leaf, pretendin’ not tah notice that or tha makeup made Pen look like she mighta been same place as the three passengers.  “Yew git up tah no good?”

“From what I remember, it was fun.” She grinned, absently pulling the parcel to her chest. “But a lady doesn’t share those stories.”

It was a joke - a play on their previous conversation, complete with a wink. With an air of pondering, she added: “I will say that a night out in Greenleaf isn’t done if you don’t wake up in a tree.”

Abby’s jaw dropped as all kindsa pitchers ‘o’ tree sex flew through ‘er mind.  She threw up a hand.  “I don’t wanna know…wait…I think I do!”

That got a trill of Penelope’s merry laughter, and she shook her head. Amusement touched her eyes as she teased her friend with: “My lips are sealed.” Definitely was poking fun, but that was the nature of friendship, wasn’t it?

“Great,” the deckhand grumbled.  “Yew get monkey sex an’ all I git’s bein’ a one woman wet tee shirt contest!  Gotta go change outta this’un.  Catch ya later!”  With a smile, Abby turned toward ‘er room an’ hurried off.

"Later, Abbs." Penelope laughed again at the grumbles, the departing call after Abby nearly lost it in. As she turned to go back the way she came, her gaze shifted down at the package. Quieter, to herself, she asked: "What could he have sent..."