He made his way through the ship. The back of the ship wasn't well taken care of. It was more of a mess and he even had some laundry put out on lines to dry over the heat of engines. He didn't expect company. He didn't care what she would think of it anyway.
The air was moist and damp from the heat of the engines. It was darker than usual too. He conserved some power as he didn't know most times how long a flight would take. He didn't mind either. It felt more comfortable for some reason to be in the dark when he was alone.
He moved through the ship to the small kitchenette and secure drawers. Opening them one by one he found what he was looking for: a bottle of vodka. He nodded to himself and opened it and took a swing of it. It burnt... a warm burn... but at least it would ease his headache for a time. He found a clean rag and took it with him as well and started back for her. He could hear her footsteps, slow as they were, but she had decided to come in.
He found her walking in the corridor with her arms crossed. It was dark but he could tell she looked pale. He had herd her muttering distantly and he had paid hardly no attention though it still had reached the back of his mind. The fact she was thanking him now was surprising as well.
When he had reached her he didn't waist any time either. He didn't really care what she would think of what he was going to do. Without warning he picked her up, arms under her legs and back, and started to carry her farther into the ship.
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