Lt Cmdr Quentin Beck - Itching for a Drink

[Quentin Beck]

((Zeyva’s Kitchen, Clean Hall Lounge, Deck 6, USS Ronin))

Beck: So… what's on the menu, Chef?

Thoné: To start, a selection of Cardassian Quale Eggs, harmonised with the essence of Sweated Bajoran Moba Fruit. For Mains, I shall pair your wine with a roasted hogfish on a bed of Lemon-Soaked Terran Potatoes and assorted vegetables. Finally for dessert, Vanilla Ice cream with sprinkles.

Quentin couldn't help the way his eyes fluttered with surprise the longer the list went on - but then, it had been a long time since he'd been to a restaurant that was as fancy as this seemed. Quark's had had decent enough food, and it was usually made to order, but it was still bar food.

Robin: Sounds beautiful as always, mother.

He nodded at almost the same time as Om-Zora, his brows raising slowly. He'd definitely had moba fruit when they were on DS9, and of course he'd had potatoes from back home, but he was particularly surprised at the simplicity of the dessert option - with sprinkles, not even with a sauce. That wasn't a bad thing, but it seemed understated compared to the rest of the menu.

Evinrude: I'm afraid the broiler isn't ready yet, trouble adapting the fuel supply safely. But we've got some solid equipment installed, surely enough for such an...accomplished chef.

Curiosity touched his features as Quentin's eyes shifted from Thoné to Evinrude and back again. They obviously had some history, and the teenage girl who lived deep in his soul just craved to spill the tea.

Thoné: Well, that’s bitter lemon man. But a chef never blames their equipment, only their ingredients and customers.

His brows nearly disappeared into his hairline at that particular comment. He hesitated a moment before speaking again.

Beck: Okay, then… do you have any specialties? I am a bit of a foodie myself, so I'm willing to try something I've never had before.

Robin smacked her wing against her face, and for a moment Quentin was sure he'd managed to put his foot in his mouth - he'd been doing so much better at understanding and respecting cultures that were alien to his own, but he knew it was always a danger. His cheeks flushed.

Robin: You… You shouldn’t have said that, sir.

Robin's reaction was met with an equal opposing reaction from Zeyva herself.

Thoné: Ah a foodie! Finally, someone on the ship who makes sense! You’ll have to come back, alone. Yes?

She disappeared before he could respond, presumably to start making the food, which left him feeling… flustered, for some reason? It was likely because he was feeling the after-effects of worrying for a moment he'd caused some sort of intergalactic stir. The color in his cheeks started to normalize, and he smoothed out his mustache with one hand to soothe himself some more.

Starting to settle, he folded his arms together on the table just in front of him, fingers curling against his elbows.

Beck: So… what's the occasion? I've never been pranked into a dinner before…

Evinrude: Wait...pranked? ::Tess smiled, ignorant to the circumstances.:: Do tell...

Robin: ::Bluntly:: She thinks you two are gooey lava cakes for each other.

Quentin blinked. Looked at Robin, very confused. And the skin between his fingers started to itch - even on the prosthetic hand, though that was more of a phantom itch.

Evinrude: ::Looking more confused, but still smiling.:: Oh, no no, Quentin and I are...acquainted. We shared a rather...intense experience on Bajor, some time ago.

Wasn't that the understatement of the century? 

Robin: Oh, a holiday? A Lover's retreat?

Om-Zora: I don’t think they’d call it that. 

Quentin raised his hand to rub his palm over his face.

Beck: Quite the opposite, actually. I don't want to get too deep into it, but we had to deal with… let's say mortal enemies. 

Evinrude: Response

Robin: Ah, my apologies.

Om-Zora: I wouldn’t apologize. Beck certainly has a reputation. It’s an easy mistake. And they are… a handsome couple now that they’re here. By human standards, anyway.

Quentin froze. He looked at Om-Zora quizzically, brow arching slowly, his lips moving to mouth the words 'Beck certainly has a reputation'. What in blazes was he talking about? His mind didn't even register the implication that he and Tess were a couple at all, let alone a handsome one, as he was too busy turning that phrase over and over in his mind, trying to understand it.

Evinrude: Response

Robin gazed at Om-Zora, putting her wing around their back. Om-Zora looked… neutral about it, if someone could manage to look neutral in a really defiant way.

Robin: Yeah, we’re an item. He’s my little sour-cake.

Robin kissed Om-Zora gently on the head. He leaned down a little, seemingly to make it easier on her, and Quentin's fingers itched even more, so much so that he started actually scratching between them absently.

Om-Zora: Thank you.

Beck: Like mother, like daughter, mm? Sour-cake, lemon man…

Evinrude/Robin/Thoné: Response

Suddenly, their matron reappeared and presented them with glasses. Then she returned the bottle of wine to Quentin, now opened, and he nodded his thanks.

Om-Zora: Well, typically, I don’t like drinking for a first outing. But I suppose the point of this is dinner. So pour me one. ::a beat, realizing a distinct lack of politeness on his part:: Please.

His lips parted in bemusement at the forced nature of the last word, though Quentin didn't call Om-Zora out. He simply nodded again, tipping the bottle to pour a few fingers into Om-Zora's glass before repeating the process for the others, managing to fill them all roughly equally with his naked eye.

Beck: A toast? 

Waiting a moment to allow the others to collect their glasses, Quentin raised his slightly.

Beck: To… new friends. And to finding a way to navigate the… unexpected.

 

He'd wanted to say to navigate the most awkward moments we've felt for quite a long time, but he felt that might have been projecting just a little. The slight tremor in his voice when he'd said unexpected might have given it away, anyway.

Om-Zora/Evinrude/Robin/Thoné: Response

Glasses clinked together in short, staccato motions. Quentin moved the glass to his lips, taking a sip and trying to ignore the intensity of the itch on the back of his hand. It had spread out from just the skin between his fingers, prickling his skin all the way down to his wrist. The anti-histamine had been working just fine a little bit ago - was it the obvious stress hanging in the room that was causing his allergy to flare?

Beck: While I do consider Tess to be someone I can trust to the end, I'll have to dispel the idea that we are anything but friends. Not that he's a bad looking guy - far from it - but my tastes tend to run a little more… pointy-eared. ::a beat:: Or furrier. ::a beat:: Look, I dated a Caitian for a while.

Om-Zora/Evinrude/Robin/Thoné: Response

Swirling the blue liquid in his glass, he studied it for a moment before taking his first long sip; he was surprised to find the wine was immediately quite delicious, tasting chilled despite the fact he knew the bottle was room-temperature. There were also some notes of berry and wood, all of which conspired to hide the taste of alcohol so well he couldn't help but wonder if it had any proof at all.

He cleared his throat.

Beck: Om-Zora, you're Science, right? Working with V'Len?

Om-Zora/Evinrude/Robin/Thoné: Response

(OOC: You don't need to apologize - I don't need everyone to like Beck and it's often more entertaining when someone doesn't!)

[Tags/TBC!]

Lieutenant Commander Quentin Beck

Chief Medical Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

A238810SA0