SSSD - Talk about the Norwegians

“So,” Alison says after a minute.

“Yeah?” is the shy reply in the dark.

“Dr. Nordrum, Dr. Gretland, Dr. Dagnall.”

“What about them?”

“Bang, marry, kill.”

Ro’s body stiffens.

“Girl, this place doesn’t even have closets. Don’t even.”

A second passes and Ro relaxes slightly.

“Oh my gosh,” she murmurs, embarrassed.

“Marry Dr. Nordrum. Obviously,” Alison says.

“Obviously,” Ro agrees.

Alison waits.

“I guess the other two are kind of hard. I haven’t gotten to know them.”

“But we saw Dr. Dagnall naked. She looked pretty good. I think we bang her.”

Ro snorts. “OK. Poor Dr. Gretland. And she looks so sad all the time.”

“She’s pretty though.”

Ro’s hair moves, tickling Alison’s nose. She’s nodding.

“Think she’s doing it with Birgitte right now?” Alison asks.

“You think she is?”

“Can’t be sure. I know they have. I don’t know if they are.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

“OK,” Ro says, sounding impressed.

“What about Marit, Golda, and Birgitte?” Alison asks.

“Umm… wow. Golda is kind of intense.”

“Hot, though.”

“Yeah,” Ro admits.

“Oh, so you like older women.”

Ro stiffens. “I…” she begins.

“I’m fucking with you. I know what you mean.”

“Birgitte seems OK. I think Golda seems kind of bougie. Maybe marry her for her money, bang Birgitte, and then kill Marit because she’s scary.”

“I’ll marry Marit, bang Birgitte, and kill Golda. Guillotine for the bourgeoisie, obviously. I think Comrade Marit and I would balance each other out nicely. And Birgitte’s probably good with her fingers.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“What? I’m CCL. What do you want from me?” Alison asks, giving her a little squeeze.

“Are you really this horny in Antarctica?”

“Are you not? Golda’s evil naked girl boss thing was kinda doing it for me.”

“Really?” Ro shudders.

“Think she knows what she’s doing?”

“What?”

“Ro, she was smoldering like it was her job. There was all this sexual energy, and I’m wondering if she’s an experienced MILF goddess or an inexperienced, possibly semi-closeted little faker who puts on that big façade because her job requires it of her.” Alison waits for a response. “What?” she asks when she doesn’t get one.

“Uh, that’s just a lot.”

“I get really into this stuff.”

“OK. I don’t think she’s faking.”

“I hope she’s not. Notice me, Mommy.”

“She noticed you,” Ro says.

“I know. But does she have the balls to make a move? Or maybe I should go for it.” Alison wiggles excitedly. “Hard to decide what to do. What do you eat at the Norwegian buffet?”

“Oh my gosh!”

“You keep saying that.”

“You’re a lot!”

“We’re in Antarctica. And we’re snowed in with some dimes. I’m excited.”

“Did you forget that we just lost power? We will literally die if we don’t get it back,” Ro says.

That’s not completely accurate. There’s lots of fuel here to use for warmth, and vehicles as well. This isn’t the only outpost. In the worst-case scenario, they can just travel to another one to get help. Of course, that can be prevented by the weather.

However, the Norwegians don’t seem concerned by the situation. Alison trusts them to know how serious things are. If they’re confident in their ability to repair the damage, it’s probably nothing to worry about.

“It’s fine,” Alison says reassuringly. “And if we have to hook up for warmth, is that really so bad? I call dibs on Dr. Nordrum.”

“Excuse you. No,” Ro replies. She’s relaxing enough to show a little sass. That’s good.

Alison snuggles a little closer. “I’ll fight you for her.”

“Sure.”

SSSD

Considering the night was spent with a stranger, the power out, and on an… unimpressive bed, Alison sleeps well. The morning is the true ordeal. The temperature has dropped considerably inside the outpost, and while nobody’s trying to shower or anything, just getting out of bed and going to the bathroom is a lot to ask. The cold is intense.

The Norwegians barely seem to notice, but they’ve had more time to acclimate. It’s barely light and Niv, Marit, and Signe are out there working on the generator.

Ro and Alison wear coats, gloves, and hats as they eat oatmeal that Birgitte prepared for them using a butane stove. There’s hot coffee as well. It’s a bizarre mixture of heaven and misery as they sit hunched over the divinely hot provisions, shivering with their breath coming out in clouds.

Fortunately, the power is back on by the time they’re finished eating. It’ll take time for the outpost to heat back up, but having the lights back on does wonders for Alison’s mental health. Ro seems ready to melt with happiness.

But things getting back to normal also means getting back to work. Alison dresses in jeans and a hoodie and meets up with Julie, who is looking incredibly fine in her own jeans and sweater with her messy ponytail. This level of horniness isn’t normal for Alison, but the excitement of being here and all the unexpected teases yesterday are adding up.

She still stays focused on work, which is straightforward today: they need to take inventory of all the samples and verify that nothing has deteriorated or been harmed by the power situation last night. They know that everything is fine because there’s no chance that anything even thought about starting to thaw, but this is a procedural step that’s necessary for the sake of whatever academic paper this is going into later. Julie’s work is relatively dull; the main things they’re focusing on today are core and surface samples. It’s two different sets, both of which have hundreds of entries, and two separate projects. Hours of work.

Alison is attentive to detail and does only what she’s asked, exactly as Julie asks it. Her first day isn’t the time to get creative. Staying busy and making an effort to do it right makes it easy to keep her mind off horny things, and the sexual frustration from last night gradually subsides. Alison senses hints of irritation in Julie. Lots of melancholy. But she seems to enjoy her work. She’s not exactly miserable.

She’s also not horny, and noticing Alison at all as a woman.

That’s OK. Not everyone is a CCL girl at heart like poor little Ro.

“Problem,” Alison reports.

“What?” Julie stops what she’s doing and crosses the room to join Alison at one of the big, gray freezers.

“Twenty-one through twenty-five are missing,” Alison says, pointing at the empty slots. “I checked the log.” She taps the clipboard. “Nobody signed them out. Did you do something with them?”

Julie frowns, crouching beside Alison. “No,” she replies, her eyes fixed on the empty slots. She chews her lip for a moment. “It’s OK. Keep going.”

Alison balks. OK? They’re missing. These samples exist. They’re gone without an explanation. Julie seems annoyed, but not alarmed. Then again, Alison’s reads on people are not always correct. In fact, sometimes she’s off by a mile. And these Norwegian women are tough because they come from another culture.

With difficulty, she is able to not question Julie further. Before she can proceed, the door opens.

The mom jeans and sweater combo really is the uniform of this place, at least for the science team. Golda’s sweater has fuzz around the neck and red snowflakes on it.

“Alison,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am?” Alison straightens up politely.

“Are you free to help me?”

Alison hesitates, waiting for Julie to object. She doesn’t. But Golda has phrased this as an offer, not an order. Which is interesting.

Should Alison stay with Julie? Or help Golda? It seems like a good opportunity to make a positive impression on one of the two.