Dinner for two

Posted on Wed Oct 14th, 2020 @ 10:42pm by Lieutenant Kevan Dash & Senior Chief Petty Officer Mason Malone

Mission: The Shadow of Arachne
Location: Mess Hall
Timeline: Following "After Action Report"
986 words - 2 OF Standard Post Measure

Mason was pretty quiet the whole trip down to the mess, even though he stole the occasional glance at his friend. Waving him off to find them a table, he went to the replicator to get their steak and fries and beer. It took a few minutes for the order to arrive and Mason carried a large tray back to the table, walking carefully so not to spill the precious amber liquid in the two tall glasses. "I didn't know what kind of sauce you wanted, so I ordered a small selection," he offered as he sat the tray on the table and claimed one of the plates.

"Meat..." Kevan grunted in a faux-caveman manner. His eyes lit up on the food Mason had put in front of him. He glanced around the room, where a number of tired and battered looking crewmen were mulling over their own food. It brought some of his mirth back down to reality. They were sat enjoying steaks while parts of the ship were in pieces. "Y'know, this could be our last ever meal, if things go really badly..."

"Well, then we have to make sure things don't go badly do we," Mason answered brightly, shoving the other plate towards Kevan. "We earned a break, that diagnostic will be a while and we do need food. We'll get more energy, and we'll be able to think better, right?" He reached for one of the glasses and sipped the amber liquid. "Not as good as the real deal, but it'll do," he grinned, raising his glass. "TO a good ending?"

"Ha!" Kevan snorted. "If I go out I'm going out swinging and shooting." He lifted his glass in salute.

"Swinging?" Half poised to take a bite of his steak, Mason arched a single eyebrow at him. "You dance?"

Kevan frowned at Mason. "My fists. Swinging my fists. Sheesh, I thought you were a former marine!"

"Fighting can be seen as a dance," Mason suggested, "I've seen swordplay that looks like a very deadly dance. And besides, this marine can actually dance. My ex-husband taught me, so I'm not really good at it but I can do it." Mason shrugged. "He felt that we should at least be able to do one dance when we got married."

Kevan nodded. He felt weird hearing and talking about Mason's marriage. "I don't really associate dancing with fighting," he said. "Put me in front of a smoking hot girl a few drinks in me, then we get the dancing. Not so much the fighting."

"Oh trust me, fighting is a dance in its own right. Have you ever used a dagger?" Mason reached down and pulled his own marine issue dagger from his left boot. "I still carry mine," he added, offering it up for inspection. "I'm trained to use it. Like I said, sword play is a deadly dance, and so is a knife fight. If you don't know how to move, you're screwed."

Kevan eyed the knife. It was a little unusual for a Starfleet officer to carry a blade like that. Even a former Marine. Under the current circumstances, though, he could understand why. He took a bite of his steak. "Dancing is for pursuing tail," he shrugged, chewing down the food.

"Tail?" Mason shook his head. "Might be me, but I don't understand..."

"We've been over this. Chasing tail. You know," Kevan motioned to a couple of cute looking Ensigns sat eating in the corner of the room. When they saw him he grinned flirtatiously. "Tail. A hot piece of..." he coughed a little. "Steak."

Mason shot to his feet and around the table, firmly smacking Kevan between the shoulder blades. "Can't have you choke on me now," he muttered in concern, thinking the man had his steak shoot down the wrong way. "You okay?" He leaned over the man to get a look at him.

Kevan jolted with the force of the slap on the back. "What are y-" he exclaimed as Mason peered really closely at him. "Why are you hitting me?"

Mason's face flushed scarlet as he moved away a little. "I thought you were choking," he mumbled, "wanted to make sure you're okay." He wasn't convinced though, so he hovered close but not as close as before. "You okay now?"

"I'm okay! Of course I am. What..." Kevan shook his head. "Never mind. You former marine types are weird."

Giving a quiet nod, still scarlet in the face, Mason moved back to his own side of the table. "I'm not weird... just concerned. I thought you were choking, that's all." To hide his embarrassment, he took a quick bite of his own steak and chewed in thought. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"Just my pride," Kevan replied, rolling his shoulders to make sure. Fortunately his steak had survived too. "Thanks for the concern."

"I'm sure you'd do the same for me," Mason muttered, hiding his face in his glass of beer.

"Yeah. We're friends, right?" Kevan put down his fork. "That business in the corridor before. Me calling you out. That was...unprofessional of me. I guess I wasn't really thinking straight. So..." he took a breath, as though it was hard for him to admit. "I'm sorry."

Mason waved it off, even though the incident had hurt and now had him walking on egg-shells around his friend. "Don't worry about it," he said, putting his glass down. "We don't always have to agree, as long as we can talk about the disagreements, like professionals. Because that's what we are, right?"

"Deal," Kevan nodded, finishing his meal with a flourish. "C'mon, that scan's probably run its course now. We should see what it found out about the device."

"I can't wait. Here's to hoping we actually did find something." Mason grinned as he gathered up his plate and glass. "Let's recycle this and then head back."