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Midnight Snacking

Posted on Mon Nov 13, 2017 @ 4:35pm by Ensign Solok & T'Lar & Goron jav Rork
Edited on on Mon Nov 13, 2017 @ 4:36pm

Mission: The Eye Of Sin
Location: E Deck - Mess Hall
Timeline: January 5, 2157 - 2330 Hours

Solok entered the mess hall in off-duty wear. He sincerely hoped none of the other crew were around--this was embarrassing enough as it was. "Chef Rork," he called as he entered. "Are you around?"

The Tellarite turned his head towards the entrance to respond to the voice whom he knew belonged to Solok. "I might be if you look hard enough," he replied from his seat near the viewport. Goron returned his attention to the stars outside and he took a sip from his alcoholic beverage.

"Or smell hard enough," the Vulcan responded in kind. "What is that?"

"My reward for a long day's work," he answered before taking another sip. "Did you need something?"

Solok moved a little closer. "Yes. I find myself in need of food at this late hour. This is unusual for me. I heard Crewman Harrison refer to it once as a... midnight snack or something of that nature."

"Have you looked in the serving cases?" the Chef asked, even though he knew that the Vulcan hadn't. He'd approached Goron immediately upon entering the room. So either he wanted something specific, that wasn't usually served to the crew at this time of the night, or he wanted something else entirely that wasn't, in fact, food-related.

Solok cocked one eyebrow at the other non-human, non-Vulcan aboard ship. "Considering that I have only been here so late for tea, you'll forgive me if I haven't noticed the serving cases." He moved over to the indicated area of the room. "Hmmm... What is that?"

The Chef had no idea how Solok could have missed them after all this time as they were right by the door. Maybe it was a Vulcan thing. He didn't understand Vulcans at times. He looked over his shoulder to the compartment that the Ensign was stood by. "I think I put the s'mores in there. The crew seem to like them with some hot cocoa. You have a melted marshmallow and some chocolate being held together by a couple of graham biscuits. I don't have a sweet tooth but they're not bad." He nodded and took another sip of his drink.

Solok regarded the confection critically. "Intriguing..." He took one out. "Where would I find the appropriate libation to go with this?"

"It'll depend on what you want," the Chef replied. "We have a surprisingly healthy supply of rum."

Solok looked at him. "Was that a joke? I have no intention of getting drunk. In any case, Vulcans do not, as a rule, make nor consume alcohol. We have what you might consider alcohol, but it does not contain any of the chemical compounds associated with inebriating substances."

"That sounds very... Vulcan," Goron said with a grimace. He wasn't surprised that the Vulcans had come up with a variation of alcohol that didn't leave a person inebriated. "If you don't want rum, you can always have some hot chocolate, a coffee or even a latte. I don't think tea would go well with s'mores."

The door opened behind Solok, revealing T'Lar, similarly attired to her husband.

"So, this is where you've gotten to?" she asked him.

If he'd been Human, and made of less stern stuff, Solok would have tried to cower behind Rork. As it was, he turned to face her. "I'll be back to our quarters in a few minutes; you have nothing to fear."

She gave him a look.

Rork raised his bushy right eyebrow in curiosity. "Is something going on?" he asked with a wave of his mug at the two Vulcans to indicate that he meant between the two of them.

T'Lar gave the Tellarite one raised eyebrow.

"Tell me if you understand this." She said something in Vulcan which made Solok's face twitch, barely hiding some sort of emotional storm. He turned to his wife. "Give me five minutes, and I will return."

T'Lar grasped his hand and squeezed. "I will time you on that." She left.

Solok looked to Rork. "I apologize--she is becoming... More difficult as of late."

"It looks like she has you wrapped around her little pinky finger," the Chef commented. He held up his hand and extended his pinky finger out in a somewhat teasing manner.

Solok quirked an eyebrow. "An odd figure of speech, but yes--quite wrapped." He gingerly picked up one of the chocolatey treats. "I should go; don't want to keep my wife waiting. Thank you, Chef Rork." The Vulcan turned on his heel and left.

"Waiting?" Goron said aloud to himself. He then huffed and returned his attention to the viewport and the stars outside it. Whilst he was aware that T'Lar was pregnant, he was uncertain what was actually going on between the two of them. Pon farr, as far as he knew, only occurred every seven years. Obviously, Solok and she had already gone through it at some point in the past year as they'd conceived. Did a Vulcan's pregnancy throw all of that all of wack? Whether it did or not, Rork was suddenly glad that his quarters were on G deck. The less he knew, the better.


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