Interlude part 5

Posted on Fri Dec 25th, 2020 @ 12:10pm by Ensign Evelyn Moro & Lieutenant Aemilia "Millie" Stepanova

James leaned against the stainless steel countertop in the large kitchen area, his head resting against the cool metal. Beside him was a state of the art replicator.

"Coffee, black," he said for the thirteenth time. The machine remained silent.

"Marcy!" He grimaced as his voice hurt his own head. Where was that girl?

"Marcy has the morning off," came the feminine voice behind him. "What's wrong?"

"Didn't I banish you last night?"

"You would have, but your assistant had the night off." Millie opened one of the cabinets, took down a glass, and filled it at the sink. "Besides, you were horribly drunk, and I don't listen to your dictates even when you're sober."

She set the glass on the countertop next to his forehead. "Hydrate."

"I've tried. but this damned thing won't listen to me. She always does it for me."

Millie softly tapped her finger on the steel countertop next to the glass. "Water first."

He begrudingly drank from the glass. "You never used to be so...assertive."

Millie gave a soft smirk. "I suppose this is what happens when your two best friends are a Klingon and your ex-fiance." She picked up the tea kettle from the counter, filled it, and set it on the stove. "Granted, more of your employees would be assertive with you if you didn't have a habit of shooting them."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it."

Soft footsteps enteres the room. "You look awful."

James lifted his head to see Marcy, her hair slightly curled, wearing a non-form fitting blue dress and a hint of makeup. "And you look...different."

His eyes on her caused a faint blush. "Can't get the coffee to work?'" She asked.

Millie turned on the stove burner, setting the kettle to boil. She smirked slightly. "How does he take his coffee?" Millie placed her palm on the replicator's biometric panel, and the machine whirred to life.

"Kaffee...schwarz," said Marcy and the coffee appeared.

James sighed. "I should have known."

"Well, your mother is the one who bought it", Marcy retrieved the cup putting it in front of him.

He sipped. "I didn't know you spoke her language."

"I'm full of surprises."

He gave a slight nod of agreement, stealing another glance at her.

"Her Russian is coming along quite nicely as well." Millie opened the shopping bag on the counter, removing a tea strainer and a metal canister. "It's not often I get to speak my native language without the use of a translator. It made for quite the surprise at dinner." She held up a mug, silently inquiring whether Marcy would also like a cup of tea.

"Please." Marcy said to her.

"I had some people look into your information about Teskin's connection to our target. They check out. You did very good."

Marcy allowed herself a small grin. "Thank you Sir."

At that moment the kettle began to whistle. Loudly.

He grimaced holding his temple. "Can somoene shoot that kettle?"

Millie took the kettle off the heat, the whistle reducing to a hum. "Were you drinking on an empty stomach last night? Or did you just not pace yourself?" She kept her back to James as she scooped up the loose tea leaves with a practiced hand, placing the strainer in the kettle to steep.

"There was no dinner because someone wasn't here to set it up."

Marcy frowned slightly feeling she'd let him down by staying out.

Millie turned, an eyebrow raised. "You know how to cook, da?"

"The best thing he makes are reservations."

He slowly looked at his assistant. "Funny....but accurate."

"Well, since you're going to be granting your assistant a few personal days off each year from now on, you should at least know how to ensure you don't starve to death in her absence." Millie set Marcy's mug of tea on the counter next to her, slipping past to examine the contents of the refrigeration unit.

He drank more coffee, glancing back to his assistant. "You two seemed to have a good night out."

She nodded, sipping her tea. "It was very nice. They have a great little theatre down in the village. The performance was better than you'd expect. I'm sorry about your dinner though. I should have arranged your meal."

"Nonsense. He is a grown man, da?" Millie laughed softly. "Every other bachelor in the known universe can forage. At least you have more choices than lizard or snake." She crossed the kitchen, carrying a tray of eggs and a stick of butter, with a loaf of sliced bread tucked safely in the crook of her arms. "Though snake is quite satisfying if one is hungry enough." She set down the ingredients and set about opening cabinets in search of a small pan.

James stood, putting his mug in the reclaimer. "Are you our new chef?"

Millie victoriously pulled a small frying pan from the cabinet. "No, you are." She extended a hand.

He looked at her. "You're joking."

"Only if you plan on going hungry between now and our return." The counselor left her hand extended.

He took the pan. "Why would I not use the replicator?"

"Because are your parents really going to relinquish an intergalactic empire to a man who can't fry an egg?" Millie gestured with her head to the stove as she pulled a spatula from a drawer. "Set the burner to medium."

Begrudingly he followed her instructions. "I don't think managing corporate affairs really hinges on my culinary skills."

Millie laughed. "I've had first contact over a melon, James." She used the rubber spatula to drop a pat of butter in the warming pan. "Once the butter is melted, the pan will be ready for a couple of eggs." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Stand in here for me, Marcy? I need to grab a couple of hair pins.

Marcy looked like a deer in headlights. "Oh, I'm not a good cook."

"It's a scrambled egg. Just crack a couple of them into the pan. I'll be right back!" Millie shuffled quickly out of the kitchen.

The two began, a little awkward, with the first egg and shell which had to be picked out but they managed.

He looked down at her. "You normally don't wear expensive perfume."

She stopped for a moment and looked up from the pan. "She, uh, insisted."

"It's fine. I'll just take it out of your salary." He gave her a moment to take that in. "I'm joking."

She let out a breath and grinned nervously.

"It would make sense to make sure that your assistant has the professional appearance that reflects your organization, da?" Millie walked back into the kitchen, braiding her long hair over her shoulder. "If she walked into a board room on your behalf, you want to make sure that your representatives reflect what your company portrays." She picked up the loaf of bread with a smile. "There was that amazing suit that you didn't try on--I could request that they send up a professional wardrobe collection in your size.." Millie let the suggestion hang in the air.

James nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

"They're burning." Marcy commented.

"Oh," James reached for the spatula the at the same time as Marcy. They shared a glance. "Ladies first."

She nodded and tended to the breakfast.

James straightened his posture slightly and turned to Millie. "I'll....I'll be back in a few minutes." He turned and left the kitchen.

After setting the bread to toast, Millie waited until James was out of earshot. "He seems a little bit more mellow this morning."

"People misunderstand him. He's under a great deal of stress every day." Marcy looked to the door he'd gone through. "I was so anxious standing here with him."

"He is a normal person, no different than anyone else other than the fact that he was born into a fortune. But he treats everyone else as disposable." Millie approached with a plate, scooping the eggs out of the pan. "You are not disposable."

"Everyone in our society is disposable, unless you have the right last name. We're not the Federation. I have my role and I know deep down he appreciates what I do. I'm just the easiest one to take frustrations out on but he's never been physcial with me, even in his worst moods. You've seen what he's done to others."

Millie placed a hand on Marcy's. "You are not disposable."

"Maybe not, but you need to get away from here before his tolerance runs out. I think he was embarrassed so he left."

"If he actually wanted me to leave, he would have done so already, da?" The toast popped, and Millie added it to the plate. "His security would have dragged me out of here by my braid and made sure that Starfleet never found my body." She set the plate at the small table in the kitchen. She glanced up at Marcy. "Or it would be you disposing of my body."

The girl looked away. "He probably wants to eat in the study."

Millie nodded. "Is there a tray we can use to carry his breakfast?"

Marcy gathered the breakfast on the tray and led Millie to the study. James was seated behind a desk reading a PADD. He didn't look up. "You can leave it on the table."

Marcy maintained a deadpan expression as she set it down. "Yes Sir."

There was a softening of Millie's expression at his change. "Be sure that you hydrate this morning. You'll recover faster if you do." She placed a gentle hand on Marcy's back. "We'll be back after brunch."

The girl turned with her as he gave a slight nod. As they exited the room she exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. "High hopes are the worst thing in this universe."

"Even an acorn is capable of splitting a boulder in two." Millie put her arm around the woman's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. "He is set in his ways, and will not change overnight. But now, we set aside worries about him, and it is just us! I need to grab my jacket, and I will meet you in the foyer, da?"

"Da." Marcy gave a small grin working in the language.

Lieutenant JG Aemilia "Millie" Stepanova
Chief Counselor, USS Mercutio