JL | Cmdr Grant, Cmdr PontBrillant - "Merry Meet"
Posted on Sat Oct 4th, 2014 @ 2:24am by Commander Logan Grant, PhD. & Vlimar PontBrillant
2,294 words; about a 11 minute read
Mission: Are You Touched?
"Ah, Commander PontBrillant! Just the man I was looking for." The smooth voice of the Vindicator's latest trinket called out over the business of the corridor, its keeper not far behind as he made his way along with the help of his cane. Logan Grant was an intriguing man of many faults and many assets, the sharpness of his mind falling into both categories as he studied the form of the ship's resident playboy with avid interest. While the counselor only been aboard but a short while, PontBrillant's name had stuck out like a sore thumb at him and was usually attached to that of the Captain's as if the two were glued together. "Care to join me for lunch?" He asked with a pleasant smile as he neared the shorter fellow. It was high time they'd met.
Vlimar, who had initially set his sights on the Security Offices and was heading that way at a decisive pace, looked up as he heard the voice. The face wasn't overly familiar, but he had a broad idea as to who the man was. He smiled at the Commander and stopped. "Lunch? Of course." he stated, seeing both an opportunity to meet a fellow officer and the defiance of meeting a ruthless counselor, as per his reputation. "Where were you thinking?" he politely asked.
Logan smiled as the other Commander accepted his invitation, "I've heard that After Dark has especially good Terran cuisine. Figured I'd start there first rather than spoil myself on replicator rations." he replied, falling in stride with the man. "Have you had the chance to try it?" Small talk was good for many things such as breaking the ice and getting to know the general wisdom behind a person's individual flair and personality. It was a fantastic tool able to be utilized by both engaging parties if one knew how to use it. The Kiwi did and as they walked he'd use it to his advantage, gauging where the Commander's mind was set. Rumors were only rumors after all.
Vlimar nodded. "I have heard good things about its cuisine but never had a chance to get a proper meal, however." he replied, beginning to walk that way. Vlimar knew that a refusal to Logan's proposal would have been an authorization for the Commander to, perhaps, professionally harass him. After all, both men didn't know one another and both were in such positions that common trust was essential and vital to the function of the ship.
"The Captain's yeoman apparently recommends it highly." Even with his limp, Logan's long legs allowed him to keep stride with the blustery Commander. He seemed like a strong man, well-built, relatively attractive and suave with his French accent and collected movements. The rumors had pinned him as some dashing thing ready to sweep a woman off her feet and drag her away while she begged both for mercy and for more. Logan almost chuckled as the mental image of Fabio was swept under the rug and replaced with the much more realistic imprint of the gentleman he walked with. "Something about sandwiches being to die for, straight out of New York. I don't know about you, but I'm a little homesick for Earth in general."
Vlimar nodded immediately, "Oh, definitely. Homesick for sure." he answered to the comment and looked at the man while they kept walking to the lounge. Observing Logan's limp, and the walk obviously being effortless under the circumstances, he didn't alter the pace until they reached the lounge. "Where are you from on Earth anyways?" he asked as he pushed the open the door to After Dark, holding it for the Commander. "After you." he said, prior to the Commander answering his question.
"New Zealand." Logan replied, appreciative of the man's sentiments. "Was born in Ĺtautahi, or where the English call Christchurch." he added as he nodded his thanks to the Frenchman's courtesy, passing through the door and waiting for his lunch partner to enter as well. "What about you? What region of France do you hail from?" It was lucky for them that the lounge was relatively quiet, the vast majority of people having already completed their lunch rush. Finding a table was easy and Logan directed them towards one in relative privacy, setting his cane down to stake his claim and then took his seat.
Vlimar followed immediately after Logan. "The region of Armagnac, in the old French Gasconny." he replied, slowly. "A nice fertile land, filled with gascon vines. Heaven and hell bonded together, as they used to say." he grinned, as he took a seat in front of the man, appreciating the private area of the lounge he picked.
"That's one region I haven't seen. I'll need to stick it on my bucket list and take the family. My wife enjoys a good French wine every now and again." Logan smiled politely and mentally made notes. France had always been one of his most favorite places on the Terran planet, falling and playing a close second to his own native home of New Zealand. A waiter was quick to come up to them, a darling young blond that couldn't help but eye the men with something more than just hunger for a good tip. "Russia, however... Not my bag." And so the tide turned a bit, "I know the Captain was born in St. Petersburg. Couldn't handle that degree of cold unless it's used to chill a good apple cider?" His eyes met the waitress' and she nodded in understanding of his order.
Vlimar laughed at the comment about Russia and the apple cider as he loooked up at the waitress. "Special of the day, please." he requested, not even inquiring as to what it might be. He then turned his attention back to Logan. "Well, whenever we are on shore leave around Earth, you should come and visit the little place I have. I actually produce some wine, maybe you'll enjoy the experience?" he offered, smiling proudly.
Finishing up his own order of a BLT, mindful of the recommendations to try sandwiches, Logan once more gave Vlimar his attention. "That sounds like a plan. I'm sure Andrea will love it." He grinned. So far, PontBrillant didn't quite seem the ego-maniacal sex-dripping monster that so many had made him out to be. Of course, Logan reminded himself, there was a distinct difference between talking with another man and talking with a woman - the latter, of which, the counselor most definitely was not. "You'd likely enjoy New Zealand as well. We produce our fair share of fine wines, but not quite what France manages to turn out. I'm not an expert, but I'd say it has something to do with the soil. You'll have to correct me if I'm wrong."
Vlimar nodded as the subject was directly linked to his personal liking. "The age of the vine, mostly... But yes, the soil has its significant impact on the quality of the wine. But I agree with you, New Zealand produces some excellent wines." he responded with a smile. "But there are so many factors that in the end, it almost seems like luck has a bigger impact than we like to pretend." he added, slowly relaxing onto his chair. At first, he had fears that this meeting would be an interrogation about potential rumors aboard. Vlimar knew what the rumors were, after all, he had been the sole Frenchman on so many vessels and, like most Frenchman, he suffered in multiracial groups. They were often seen as the passionate lovers and sex fiends, a reputation that his behavior did not fully contribute to, but did not fully destroy either. He knew that some people were aware of his interest in Rochelle, but had hoped, albeit uselessly, that people would see the difference between being nice to a woman than to actually wanting to bed said woman.
"So it is true that wine gets better with age and that includes the age of the vine?" Logan's interest had been piqued by the talk of the grapes and the drink they produced. Every word seemed indicative of the man's capabilities to value and cherish things and wine was very much a culture all of its own. "To me, and again I'm no expert, it seems like you have to treat a vineyard like you would a lover. Cherish it, honor it, nurture it and watch it grow. It's no wonder that a fine wine, and I mean a really fine wine, is worth so much." Love wasn't about being French or being a Kiwi, love, romance in general, was a universal language that was spoken in softness and in angst. It was a passionate topic, one that brought about so many other emotions and Logan knew that such things could become heated. Care had to be taken not to step on toes or bruise delicate egos.
What he also knew was that there was a fine line being walked, that the Frenchman had painted a target on the Captain's back and was now praying that good ol' Cupid would hit his mark dead on. What he also knew was that Rochelle was his family and he'd protect her with his dying breath if that was what it took to keep her safe - though it would seem that there was no short supply of people who would do the very same. He'd been curious, wanted to know just what Rochelle was dealing with, what he as a counselor would be dealing with. So far Vlimar seemed to be a reasonable man filled with European flair. Time would tell the rest of the story, but for now he'd give the Frenchman the benefit of the doubt. For now.
Vlimar smiled and nodded slowly. "I guess it is an accurate analogy." he begin answering, "Love, much like wine, requires a lot of dedication, of passion. One cannot hope to achieve completeness without leaving his or her soul in the balance. It's a question of balance, in all truth, a balance that I didn't think I had..." he added, smiling in a wide though somewhat in a shy manner. All he could think of at that time was the smile of a certain woman; Rochelle Ivanova. A smile so genuine, so pure that it spoke ever so loudly to his heart. Over the course of the months he'd surprised himself by actually falling in love with Rochelle, as crazy as it seemed and as useless a quest as it might have been. He just couldn't help it. She represented what he had hoped for his entire lifetime, a hope he hadn't found until the moment he'd met her. That realization had both frightened and consumed him.
" 'Cherish your vine, and it shall give you fruit', was a saying my father taught me as a young pup. "Back then, I thought that he was speaking about the land, the wine, the vines, the family heritage. It was only years later that I realized he spoke about my mother, us, you, me, anyone and everyone. Life gives you the gift of time, it is up to you to decide how you want to spend it." he added, offering another smile.
At that, Logan couldn't help but smile and nod. "That's a fantastic philosophy to live life by. Your father sounds like he was quite the brilliant fellow." He replied, impressed and pleased by the way their afternoon was going. Though, had he known that Rochelle was playing so heavily on the French vicar's mind, he likely would have offered him a more cautionary tale of how a woman, a Captain, operated given the pain and contention she had faced. "Have you followed his advice?" He asked as the waitress came and delivered their orders.
Vlimar observed the plates being passed from the waitress' hand onto the table. He smiled as he was quite happy to see a beef dip, a meal he hadn't enjoyed in a long time. "I believe I have, but again, it's quite hard to be the judge of your own life.", he stated softly, smiling as his eyes met Logan's again. "I certainly hope that one would believe I did.", he added prior to grabbing a hold of his sandwich. As he stared longingly at it, but before taking the first dip and bite, he added "My father was a great man, and I hope, someday, to be able to hear my own child say the same."
Appreciating the sight of his own choice of sandwich, Logan nodded to the waitress and set about gathering up a half. The alluring smell of bacon made his mouth water and his heart ache for home and Earth and... Andrea. The corner of his mouth crooked into a sad little smile as he thought of his wife and knew Dani and the others were doing everything they could to keep her safe and free her. The fact she, a Commodore with as much knowledge as she had, was still alive was a miracle in its own right. She'd be safe, or he'd kill the son of a bitch that hurt her. Such was love and tending to the vine. "It is hard to judge your own life which is why I allow mine to be governed by actions more than words." Logan replied, giving the man just a small piece of his armor, "I think we, as men, pray to whatever Gods we hold holy to hear those words, Commander. I know I hope to hear them from my children. Bon appetite."
-=- END LOG -=-
Commander Logan Grant, PhD.
Counselor
USS Vindicator
&
Commander Vlimar PontBrillant
Strategic Operations Commander
USS Vindicator
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