[JP] Lieutenants Amelia Semara & Ras El’Heem - The Biggest and Most Perfect Apology Dinner, Part 3
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(( Amelia’s Quarters, Room 145, Deck 14, USS Khitomer ))
El’Heem: You tricked me, you know?
Maybe it was cruel to tease her that way, but he was trying to ease the tension they both felt.
Realizing she’d fallen to thought completely idle and silent, she startled and looked up to him with a wide, horrified expression.
Semara: Sorry! I didn’t mean to just have you do all the work, I was just… :: Halting. :: I’ll start workin’ on the sauce…
Wound up like a spring under the weight of a starship, Amelia was jumping at everything.
He chuckled a little as he placed the first pieces of fish onto the pan. The sound of the sizzle somehow felt comforting, like they were doing something normal together again, despite how abnormal actually cooking together was.
El’Heem: ::nervously chuckling:: It just seemed like you’ve been working the intelligence angle for a bit…
Ras shot a glance behind him, where Amelia was working on the other component of the dish.
Semara: :: Finally breathing :: Oh! That. Right.
Eyes down on ingredients for the sauce, she finally had somewhere to put the fidgeting energy in her fingers as she started working. The moment she finally breathed in a little heat from the smell of chilis and ginger warming the tightness, she finally chuckled softly.
Semara: Sorry I ain’t able to say much. There was a reason for that. I’m relieved that part’s over now, though.
She winced as her head bolted upright to Ras, immediately needing to issue another apology.
Semara: Sorry, not like that. I’m gonna miss the labs. I mean I’m happy to be done with double duty. :: Head falling back to the ingredients. :: And that I ain’t gotta keep my job to myself.
El’Heem: No, no I get it. Need to know and all that. Still, your work in science didn’t slip at all.
A little chuckle loosened the vice-grip of anxiety around her chest.
Semara: Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m payin’ my penance now. :: A soft, humored huff. :: The intel suite is in the ventral mission pod. No one goes there but me. I had to spend my first shift down there just dustin’... :: More of a giggle. ::
The last occupant had been a certain Commander MacKenna. It pleased Amelia to imagine that Shayne had jetted away from their conversation so quickly to go be united with the former chief intelligence officer and his fiancé. Strangely, the whole department was unstaffed between that departure and her assumption of the role. Hard to believe with how much there was to know about all the happenings on the ship and in the Isles as a whole.
Ras flipped the fish and inspected the grill marks.
oO She said lightly grilled, right? Oo
He wagered the fish was meant to be rare for this.
El’Heem: Cleaning up and making it your own is part of the job, I’d think. Not every gumshoe operates the same way.
These pieces were done. He moved them to a clean tray and started on the next batch.
Semara: There ain’t even much special to do down there. ‘Sides sound cool, I guess. “Suite.” :: A little grin at her vegetables. :: Ain’t computers computers? Maybe I’ll have to replicate some cozy furniture. Ain’t a “Den” sound so much more welcoming? :: Musing. :: “Intelligence Den.” Has a ring, don’t it? Maybe I’ll even get a visitor that way.
She chuckled, but she really was learning to enjoy bridge shifts over the lonely lab time.
El’Heem: I’d visit you. If you want.
He hunched over the grill, letting the steam waft into his face, secretly hoping she’d look his way, even if only for a moment. And she did, he felt it. But she didn’t jump to inviting him, either.
The problem? How would she ever get any work done? Food was Amelia’s safe place, but she still was all nerves. What would the result be in another place? She briefly imagined a giant cushiony couch set up in the quiet, dim underbelly of the ship… Her lips parted to say something important, but that something slipped away when her upturned gaze met his.
Semara: How are things in the labs? :: Waving a chile at Ras. :: Oh, and you can tell Ensign Porter I’m comin’ back for him if he starts forgettin’ to clean up his experiments again…
It was self-inflicted cruelty to side-step the conversation like that. But, growing up, she’d been taught how to small-talk endlessly with anyone. And she still wasn’t totally certain what the new thing hanging over Ras was. It scared her.
El’Heem: Haven’t spent much time down there since the promotion. I’ve mostly been in my office sorting through things. ::beat as he flipped the fish:: you know we have appropriation budgets for special projects that have never been allocated?
He turned and leaned against the countertop, facing her back. His arms crossed and the tongs in one hand, he just watched her. The way her hair jostled from her precise movements. The way the dress draped on her curves. His eyes quickly rose back to her head and he cleared his throat.
El’Heem: There was so much we could’ve gotten to do.
As soon as he said it, it felt like an attempt at guilting her. Which wasn’t his intention at all. Another thing to apologize for, he supposed.
Semera: Was? :: Looking up under her eyelashes. :: Who ever said anything about was? :: A chuckle before returning to the sauce :: I ain’t goin’ anywhere, ‘less you know somethin’ I don’t. And I know everything that happens on this ship now. :: A little grin. :: There somethin’ you wanted to work on?
Ras turned halfway looking over his shoulder and pulled the newly grilled fish onto the tray with the others. There were only a few pieces left uncooked and he added them to the grill.
He wanted to say oO Yea, but it wouldn’t be the same. Oo
El’Heem: For starters, that weird statue that I picked up from the warehouse. Still haven’t figured out what that was about.
Amelia nodded. The quarters were starting to smell like the finished product - fats and spices and meats all mingling together into an aerosol that she could almost taste. Maybe not too late for a combination of their own.
Semara: I saw that. :: A coy little smile :: Want me to run a search for it in my databases? I can find almost anything.
El’Heem: That might help. ::long pause as he contemplated:: Could’ve worked on something for Baba Yaga together too. Rebudgetted for her transfer to cetacean ops. ::beat:: I’m about finished over here. Anything else I can help with?
Amelia’s smile slithered away. It wasn’t about the statue. His turn away felt more than fair after her own turn away from what she needed to say. She shook her head a little too vigorously, trying to rid herself of the shivering awkwardness of her own making.
Semara: No, the sauce is done. Lemme plate it.
She fell quiet for a moment, allowing focus on the color and symmetry on the plate starting to form to keep the ugly feelings away. The little green onion garnish and the white sesame seeds over the pink fish with yellow and blue looked as delicately delicious as it smelled.
Ras pulled the last pieces from the grill and shut off the range. The soft click felt louder than it should have. Every silence between them saying more than not, and every noise that wasn’t them talking had the treble turned up too high.
He stepped in beside her where she worked, closer than necessary, and found himself watching her hands as she assembled. The grip, the rhythm, the certainty of each assemblage. He lingered there, hands idle, like he was waiting for something to resolve that wasn’t going to on its own. Finally, the tension was just too much for him. It was time to speak up.
El’Heem: I’m…not good at this.
Amelia looked up, halting. It felt to her like he’d over-tightened a belt and now he couldn’t breath, which was making it harder in turn for her to breath… Had she done something wrong? Her eyes went back and forth from him to the fish - him - fish - him - fish - fish - him.
Semara: What? The fish looks perfect.
He inhaled slowly.
El’Heem: No, not…that. I’m not good at talking ::beat:: like this. I…just wanted to say sorry. For what happened in the sauna. ::swallowing:: I overstepped.
He looked at the side of her face, trying to read her expression.
Semara: :: Eyebrows pinching :: Ras, you… I ain’t - There ain’t; The thing is…
Ras didn’t want to be rude but he needed to get it out before he lost the courage to do it properly.
El’Heem: No wait. Let me finish. I…I mean it. You have been going through so much and I just ::beat:: piled on more. I shouldn’t have…
He let himself trail off, finding it harder to speak now that she was looking right at him.
TBC
---------- ●● ----------
Lieutenant Amelia Magnolia Semara
Intelligence Officer
USS Khitomer - NCC-62400
A239710MA0
&
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Lieutenant Ras El’Heem
Chief Science Officer
USS Khitomer (NCC-62400)
K240106RE3