While the beach and sea is always a popular spot for bathing, sometimes a man craves a little peace and quiet from the crowds of beach-goers. The man in question is F'kan and on one of his very rare rest days, he's decided that the Turquoise pools would be just the treat. It also has the advantage of being away from the Weyr, so while he's only a dragon message away if he's needed, he's less likely to be press-ganged into helping one of his many charges with their many troubles. So instead, he's stripped down to his boxers and is now letting the spray from the waterfall wash over him, plastering sandy blonde hair to his head, eyes closed and reclining against some rocks rimming the pools.

This will not be the first time Ulrika's intruded on poor F'kan on accident - and, given the nature of the Weyr, it likely won't be the last, either. But, in this case, they're both of the same mind - seeking some kind of respite, if for slightly different reasons. While Theidith is occupying herself with getting a meal - and conversation, no doubt, with any dragon that's also enjoying a bite of 'beast, the Istan makes the trek to a place where she's sure to get some kind of peace and quiet. It's not long before she pops out at the edge of the pools, sucking her teeth in thought as she makes for the bridge - only to pause when she spots F'kan near the waterfall. Her brows knit in consideration before, eventually, there's a muted, "Sir?"

One eye opens when F'kan thinks he hears something through the sound of the waterfall, the other one quickly following when he spies the tall Istan on the bridge. With a bright smile, a flash of white teeth showing, he straightens, water sleucing off his broad torso as he reaches up to push wet hair away from his face with both hands and wades slowly towards Ulrika. "Since I'm off duty, and there's literally no one else around, I'll let you get away with dropping the Sir," he replies as he lazily swims over to the bridge and looks up at her from the water, "Besides, you're going to be outranking me soon enough." He adds with a husky chuckle as his bright blue eyes dance merrily. "You come for a swim?" he asks with a tilt of his head, "The water is excellent," he adds if she needed any encouragement.

"As you like, Sir," but the title is added with a note of playfulness, Ulrika eschewing the typical salute as a more 'formal' acceptance of his request. She looks down even as he looks up, a low chuckle being offered. "Aye, well. That day is not today - and I'll like as not forget from time to time." Title-giving, it's practically in her genes at this point. It'll take time to work that out. "Just a walk for me, though-" there's a considering look to the water as much as the man in it "-I could be convinced to swim for a while, aye. If it's not intruding on your quiet time, that is." Either way, she makes her way to one end of the bridge, pausing to pull off her boots and socks and to shrug out of her shirt to reveal the breastband and scarred skin beneath.

Shaking his head with another low chuckle at her playful reply, F'kan flashes another crooked smile up at the goldrider. "Not today indeed, and it'll take some time to get used to once you graduate I'm sure. But sometimes it's nice to take the knot off for a bit, as it were, and just be yourself without rank too." He's mostly talking about himself in that, finding having to wear the knot more often than not tedious at times. One of the reasons he's ventured so far from the Weyr this day. "Intruding? You? Never!" The brownrider replies vehemently as he treads water and his smile brightens again when she starts to disrobe, "The water is fantastic here, you won't regret it, I promise." With a lazy breaststroke, he brings himself closer to the edge where she is undressing, trying not to blatantly stare as he focuses on a spot near her feet.

Fortunately, she's in shorts already, so the stripping stops once she's down to the bare minimum for coverage. "Aye, reckon it will feel good to be able to do that," Ulrika muses with a dry chuckle. "But I doubt she'd tolerate it and I'm not sure as I'd be able to, regardless." Shoulders rise and fall, a shallow shrug offered on that score; it is what she is. Maybe it'll change in time, but she certainly doesn't anticipate that. Of the water, her mood brightens some. "Aye, I've been here a time or two. Not as often as I'd like," and, yes, F'kan, she does notice that you're looking at a spot that's feet-adjacent. "You're safe to look up, F'kan. I promise I'll keep my tits trapped." The band is tested, even, tugged a little before being tightened.

"Well, you two can't really be something you're not," F'kan remarks as he moves back a bit to allow her space to come into the pool, "Besides, you're just fine the way you are." There's a touch of roguishness to his tone as he takes a moment to look up Ulrika's form and smile when he reaches her face when she says it's ok, chuckling at her blunt reply and following it up with a very playful, "Awwww, too bad." He's obviously joking as he finds the floor of the pool and stands up so that the water hits him right at chest level. "So how are things going then? Theidith always looks to be in fine form when I see her around."

"Aye, well. Those are some sweet words, F'kan," she chuckles. Oh. Oh, no. There might be that joking edge to his voice, but Ulrika threatens a step further, fingers snaking under the bottom edge of the band as if threatening to lift it. "Too bad, eh? I reckon we're well past the point where you need to worry about seeing a weyrling in any state of undress." They're flying, betweening, and soon to be talking mating flights, after all! But, the former guard relents - if only so she can lower herself into the water in a fluid movement. "But, aye, all's well with us. She's a fair sight better about minding when I tell her not to push too hard. She's steady on as she ever is and I just hope that stays true." Her features scrunch up a little, but it passes. "And you? Haven't seen much of you outside of lessons and the like - and it's not as I can really ask after you when you're busy with the lot of us."

"Sweet or not, I say what I mean," F'kan retorts, his brows flying up when she starts to tease at the else of the band, unable to stop the wolfish grin that manifests at Ulrika's playfullness. "I agree, we're well past that point," he returns with a husky chuckle, blue eyes watching the woman as she lowers herself into the water. "That's good to hear, sounds like she's maturing nicely under your care. I'm sure you'll find her steadiness just grows as she does, it seems to be in her nature," the brownrider floats out a bit from the shore, lazily kicking his feet and moving his arms slowly through the water. "Me? It's been work mainly, and more work. And work that I bring home in the evenings. But it's been better now that Amani's on the mend, Quaverilth isn't so terribly worried over Zymuraith anymore, to that's a bit of a relief."

There's a slight duck of her head to that, Ulrika's lips pulling into a lopsided smile - faint, but there all the same. No further teasing for him, alas; at least, not until she's further out in the water, moving slowly through the water to enjoy the feel of it. "Aye, well. I'm surprised she needs me half the time," she points out, her half-smile tilting further. "She's good on handling most things on her own; some days, I reckon she just keeps me around for company." Yet, still, there's no denying their bond - same as with any rider, in truth. They just take different shapes. "I'm just hoping she doesn't change too much when she's proddy," is the only concern she has, but it's glossed over and pushed away for now, her attention shifting more keenly on F'kan. She doesn't comment on the workaholism - she's not about to call him out for doing what she does - but there is a firmly nodded, "Aye, that's good. I know he was having a hard time of it. We all were, in our own way," but there's no discounting the brown's particular bond with Zymuraith. "If ever you need a rest from work, though, let me know?"

There might be a bit of a look of disapointment on F'kan's face when Ulrika doesn't continue the teasing, but it's quickly gone as he follows the goldrider through the water, gliding slowly and sending faint ripples in his wake. "It's true, they need us less and less the older they get, but that's also a good thing as well. She'll always need you, you know, even if it doesn't always seem like it. At the talk of proddiness, the brownrider chuckles loudly, "Unfortunately, until she starts to glow, you won't know how she reacts. And all female dragons are different in that regard. But I have no doubt you'll be able to handle whatever she throws at you." He nods firmly to emphasize his statement before softening his expression a little bit, "Yeah, it is a big relief." He won't dwell on the topic of the recovering weyrwoman, instead catching her last with a raised brow, "Oh? And what would you propose we get up to?" he asks, his flrtateous nature coming as easily as breathing to the brownrider.

"Oh, aye, I know, I know," Ulrika is quick to reassure with a soft laugh, pushing out a little further into the water until she can twist - just so - and end up floating on her back. "And, aye, I reckon it'll be- well, whatever it is," but there's no sense dwelling overly much on it, though there is a soft noise of acknowledgement and agreement to his assertions that she'll be able to handle it. Her eyes slip shut while she floats, arms out, hanging in the water and relishing the feel of weightlessness. "I don't know," she replies, words drawn out in her Istan drawl. "I reckon that depends on just how serious you were all those other times we talked before." One eye opens, barely a slit, head tilted just a teeny bit to regard him.

When Ulrika starts to float on her back, F'kan takes a moment to consider her form more closely, admiring even, though his glances are kept from being lecherous. "It will," the brownrider agrees, putting aside talk of future prodiness since it's not an immediate concern. What is much more immediate is the answer to his query and the boldness of the guard-turned-goldrider. "I'm always serious when it comes to spending time with beautiful women. I had to behave of course while you were a Candidate, and then a junior, but…." he floats a bit closer to her, roguish glint in his eye as he catches his lower lip against an incisor watching her, "Those restrictions no longer apply of course." His tone lowers, taking on a husky quality, as bright blue eyes remain riveted on the Istan woman.

One eyebrow quirks a bit higher but not at his study of her, no; she's plenty used to that from all ends of the spectrum. Some men admire her kind of physique; others… not so much. Instead, it's at his words, which are followed by thoughtful silence on her part. A considering suck of teeth follows, then a slow, deep breath drawn in and released. Ulrika remains floating, but steers herself closer to him with a lazy shifting of limbs. "Aye, they don't," she drawls, the corner of her mouth pitching a bit steeper with a half-smile that's just this side of wolfish. "Which leaves one question to my mind." Once she's close enough, she reaches out, fingers snaking through the water to try to make contact with any part of him within reach. "Your weyr? Mine?" A beat. Then: "Or here?"

F'kan is most definitely in the former category, admiring her physique rather blatantly. He treads water while she seems to consider his words, not exactly holding his breath, but anticipating her reply all the same. When she drifts closer to him, he reflexively reaches out but doesn't make contact until he feels her reaching fingers graze the skin of his chest causing him to flex his well defined pectorals in response. His own fingers move to trail down her arm towards her shoulder and gently tracing along her jaw if she allows. Her last question has him chuckling softly in response, moving so that he's looking down at her with blue eyes glints mischievously, "As much as a romp in the pools has a certain charm, I have a very comfortable bed back at mine, and since I have a shipweyr, we don't even need to bother our lifemates." He cups the back of her jaw tenderly as he looks down on her, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips, very much looking like he wants nothing more than to kiss her in that moment.

Her fingers might be rough, but her touch is light enough; ghosting over those flexed pecs as if in contemplation. Her skin is responsive in kind, goosebumps trailing after his own touch and eliciting a widening of that wolfish smile of hers. Ulrika will do more than allow that touch to her jaw; she rights herself in the water with a casual shift and flex of muscle - the better to face him directly, the better to press into that play of fingers along her face. "Well," she replies, easing dangerously closer, her hands sinking below the water in a bid to loop around the small of his back and coax him closer still. His mischievousness is met with a devilish gleam in her own gaze; feral and fierce and true. "Sounds as we might have to try your shipweyr first, then mine, to see who has the better bed, aye?" He might be hesitant, but she isn't; her words bring her closer and closer still, until she's the one pressing for that kiss, neither cautious nor fierce: just confident.

When she shifts to an upright position in the water, F'kan wastes no time in moving closer, slipping his hand at her jaw back to gently cup the back of her neck, fingers playing in the hairs at the nape. his own crooked grin brightens as he feels her hands around his back, and he won't protest being pulled towards her one bit. The gleam in her eyes excites him, somewhat obviously as his boxers start to feel a little bit tighter at the proximity of the woman. "That's the only reasonable solution," F'kan agrees before he's lost to the kiss she treats him to, lips parting eagerly as his other hand slips down around her waist to pull her more firmly against him, wanting to feel more of that physique against him.

Hers is a body hard-earned - lucky for F'kan, he gets to enjoy the fruits of those labors pressed against him with an intense enthusiasm. All the more when she can feel that effect that she seems to have on him. The feel of his fingers at the back of her neck sends a little thrill down Ulrika's spine, setting off another spark in her eyes - visible briefly, before they shut and she indulges in a kiss that might have started on a confident, if leisurely, note but which rapidly builds into something more. When the kiss breaks - as it eventually must, she intones a low and throaty, "If you're wanting to make it to your shipweyr, then you'd better lead on now before I change my mind." Not about what they're about to do, oh no; about where it's going to be done.

Softly groaning into the embrace, F'kan's hand fans out and slips up Ulrika's back, taking time to learn the topography of her form indulgently even as his kiss becomes more insistent with a craving that is turning downright primal at this point. When breaths must be taken, he doesn't move far, panting slightly as his head spins from bloodflow being diverted towards other parts. "I would certainly not want that," F'kan murmurs back, perhaps misinterpreting her meaning just a little, but he does reach out to catch her bottom lip between his teeth and suckle at it gently before pulling back with a hearty sigh. "Yes. Let's go. It's not that long of a trek once we're out of the Jungle. He's reluctant to let her go, but knows that needs must for greater satisfaction later, and so he slips away from her, keeping contact as long as he can before heading towards the shore, his clothes, and then eager to guide her with much haste to his shipweyr to start their thorough bed testing. This might take awhile.