Night Birds I

Posted on 27 May 2013 @ 11:28am by
Edited on on 27 May 2013 @ 12:42pm

1,899 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: LTjg Maenad Panne's quarters
Timeline: MD9 2000

ON:

Lifting the pan from the small heating embedded in the counter, Liyar reached over and turned it off, flipping the sizzling mixture of vegetables and yaktrash sauce. Loathe to dress formally while in the comfort of his own living space, he wore only a shirt with the sleeves rolled up out of the way and a pair of pants that had, undoubtedly, been plucked from the neglected depths of his laundry pile.

On the other element rested a covered pot of talman noodles, which resembled long egg noodles. He removed the glass cover and gently transferred the vegetables into the pot, evenly stirring the combined meal together and allowed it time to cool as he obtained a plastic container from the replicator. He cleaned up the small kitchen and deposited the cooking utensils back into the reclamator before dumping the finished vek tyan into the container and sealing it. It was a simple, nutritious meal that, he'd figured, easily mimicked Earth cuisine enough not to jar a Terran's senses.

One fork balanced on top of the lid later, his cooking adventure was complete, and he left his quarters, heading down the hall to Maenad's door. It had been several hours since their away mission together, and he knew that Maenad rarely took meals, at least not enough to convince him she was healthy. She hadn't eaten once during their entire mission. It was, he thought, a perfectly logical concern, and not at all merely an excuse to see her. He frowned as he hit the pad on her door. Maybe a bit of both.

Maenad was laying on her couch beneath the windows with only a single lamp on in the corner of the room. Her ankles were crossed, which stuck out from under the quilt she usually kept hung over the back of the couch, but was now draped over her entire body up to her armpits. Her lanky arms tucked the blanket to her sides as she held a PADD on her lap to watch a skit comedy show produced on Earth. The guest star was a Ferengi who she found disgustingly hilarious. When her chime sounded, she closed her eyes, not wanting to get up. Could she never just sit down and be alone? Why did somebody always want her for something?

"Computer, who is at my door?" she asked after pausing the show.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Liyar," was the response.

Maenad sighed very slowly, sinking her chest almost to the cushions under her back. She laughed quietly to herself as she covered her eyes with one hand. Then, she pulled back the quilt, giving her bare skin a sudden chill as the warmth of her body escaped, and she stood up. He was still waiting, she reminded herself. She didn't have time to get redressed, so she picked up the quilt and wrapped herself in it, wearing it like a cloak. She went to the door and opened it with an expectant grin. She saw he was holding a covered plate with a fork on top, at which she quickly glanced before meeting his eyes. "Liyar," she welcomed him. Knowing that his visits were never short, she stepped aside in pretend frustration, keeping one hand on the control panel to keep the door open, and her head tilted over her left shoulder to watch him inside.

Once her door opened, he held out the container with a casual arch of his eyebrow in her direction. "I am told it is proper custom to eat more than once per day," he greeted her mildly. He set it on the coffee table once he ducked through her archway and he straightened, noting the abandoned PADD. "I see I have interrupted you," he said, folding his hands in front of him in a dignified manner.

"I'm not complaining about it, am I?" she asked, closing the door and walking toward him. "Did you bring me dinner?" she smiled, sitting on the couch and leaning toward the covered dish.

"Affirmative," Liyar said, a little awkwardly, sitting down beside her. "We were on a mission for approximately eight hours. You did not consume anything. That is a substandard dietary regimen."

She took the cover off the plate and saw some kind of noodle dish mixed with vegetables. She recognised none of it, but she thought it smelled and looked delicious. "How do you know I didn't just eat?" she asked wryly.

He tapped the side of his head with two fingers. "I just know," he answered predictably, losing some of the tension in his posture as it seemed she would accept the meal. He shifted forward to set his elbows on his knees and leaned his weight against them. His fingers folded and his chin settled on top of them.

She smiled as she took the fork in one hand and curled some noodles around the prongs, then stabbed a few vegetables and ate them. After a few seconds of chewing, she nodded approval to him. "This is good," she said, taking some more onto her fork. "What is it?"

"It is-" he unfolded his fingers outward in a sardonic gesture, as if he knew what her response would be, "-from my home city. Vek tyan," he said. "It is a form of ob'tar'ree. Very little will provide you with ideal nutritional supplementation. I will bring it for you again if you find it palatable."

"Aw," Maenad drooped, as she ate some more. She thought that he always seemed to feeding her. Did he think that she was unhealthy, or was this a Vulcan custom of some kind? She remembered how no Vulcans ever wanted to share lunch or dinner with her when she lived in S'iktael; it had something to do with showing trust and affection. Vulcans who shared meals never did it casually. Was Liyar following his normal traditions or was he trying to follow hers? Humans ate together all the time. After a few more bites, once the plate was about half empty, Maenad shifted her weight on her cushion. "Liyar," she said somewhat abruptly, but without aggression, "do you like me?" After what had happened today, and his return to her so soon after their eight hours together, with a meal, was no small gesture for a Vulcan. Her eyes looked vaguely suspicious, and her cheeks and lips made a suggestive grin that could have been accusatory, like she knew what he was up to, but not necessarily upset about it.

Liyar lifted his elbows and rubbed his hands over his knees, pressing his lips together. He could have launched into a tirade about how the term like was variable and subjective, open to interpretation and lacking clarity, but he thankfully remained silent. It had been some time since their mission and he still wasn't certain what he was going to do, or why he wanted to do it. But, he had come to the realization, that maybe he didn't need to justify himself for once. It was his life, it was his choice. He was an adult, he did not need approval from anyone. And if he were to die in seven years, he had little to lose by not preparing either way. Impulsive, ridiculous, emotional, insane- but his. It was his insanity, his choice. "Yes," he said simply, meeting her eyes.

While he thought about his answer and fidgeted, something she'd never seen him do before, she continued eating. After each bite, she looked at him, thought about asking if he was all right, but let him stew with the question. Was it unfair of her to ask? No, she decided, swallowing a third forkful of noodle and vegetables. His reply, even though by now she thought he was trying to say no in a frustratingly convoluted way, shocked her. She stopped chewing, and blinked, holding his gaze for a long moment. She finished, then set the near-empty plate on the table. She ran her tongue over her teeth behind her lips to clear them of any lingering bits of food, then she made a nervous grin. She played with her fingers, pushing in on their knuckles with her thumb. "I like you too," she told him. "Thank you for bringing me dinner," her cheeks flushed a little as the blanket fell off her left shoulder, the one nearest him, exposing a bra-strap over porcelain-white skin above her breast and armpit.

He did notice she finished eating, which secretly pleased him. "It was no trouble," Liyar said. He reached over and grasped the edge of her blanket, tucking it back across her shoulder gently. "I do not believe this qualifies as a garment," he observed dryly without taking his eyes from her.

"Why not?" she asked. "I didn't want to keep you waiting." Maenad shrugged. "Well, it is a blanket," she laughed. "I'll get changed," she said, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. She stood up tall, the blanket came loose everywhere it was wrapped, and where she drew it together over her chest caused it to slide down her back. It came around the back of her legs, exposing them entirely, and within seconds it had turned from a robe to it merely being draped over her hands in front of her. She wasn't embarrassed at standing there like that; she was in her underwear, after all, and Maenad was not ashamed anything that he saw. She tossed the blanket carelessly where she'd been sitting, then, her back to him, she walked to her bedroom to change and came back in a black pleated skirt and turtleneck. She brushed the blanket aside and sat down, crossing her legs. "Is that better?" she asked, jokingly.

Liyar rose one of his hands and nodded a bit blankly. "Of course. These are your living quarters. I did not intend to impose."

"Hey," she said, playfully hitting at his closest knee, "you're not imposing. You brought me dinner. And, it was delicious." She smiled. "I didn't see you eat anything. Are you hungry? Can I make you something to eat?"

He looked up, his expression lighter. The slow-burning awkwardness jittering through his body gradually shook itself out. "I am gratified that you enjoyed it," he said with something akin to warmth. "You are correct, I have not yet had time to consume the end-meal. Shirai," he said, glancing over at the far wall. "The replicator should know it."

Leaving her hand on his leg, she gently rubbed it and gave a little shake. "I did enjoy it," she said again. Something was off with him, but she didn't know what. If she didn't know any better, he was sulking. She got up and went over the replicator to get his food. She thought it looked disgusting, but it smelled all right, and her nostrils tingled as she inhaled the aromas of alien spices. She handed him the bowl and set a glass of water on the table, on the backside of a PADD. "Bon appétit," she said, sitting down again.

OFF:

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer, SSC
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

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