JL | Com Ivanova, Cmdr Waterhouse, MCPO Caine - "Simply Shwarma"

Posted on Thu Apr 9th, 2015 @ 7:46am by Commander Amelia Waterhouse & Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Master Chief Petty Officer Rik Caine

2,428 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: A Spot To Kill

Recovery, under the ever watchful eyes of the medical team, was proving to be a challenge of infinite proportions. No matter how much she'd whined or complained, Rotek wasn't budging when it came to demanding to keep an eye on her until they broke from orbit and were on their way to the safety of Federation space. In a way it made sense, however inconvenient it may have been. Rochelle sighed as she waited for the replicator to finish producing the food she'd ordered up. Two plates of an exotic blend of food stuffs, bundled into a pita and surrounded by seasoned fries, easily caught the attention of the nurses as they watched the Commodore with interest. It was hardly the meal they'd figured would be requested by the spirited redhead, but let it go for the moment. If she was eating, she was healing, and who were they to question the healing process.

"I keep hearing tales of how you asked for this back on Atlantis, Caine." Rochelle chuckled, holding out one plate to her neighbor. "Something about wanting to try it." She added as he took it and she climbed back into her bed with hers. "Not as good as how it's made back on Earth, but shwarma is fantastic and as far as I'm concerned, you earned it. Trick is to put fries on it, fold it up, smash it and then do what you can to limit the dripping mess." A handful of fries carefully dropped into the middle of her own as she spoke, pausing only to rid the seasoned salt from her fingertips in preparation of rolling her pita clad lunch.

Rik was mostly healed, the broken bones fixed but still tender. The botched job he'd had Imrol do using a phaser to temporarily seal the disruptor wound had caused a lot of eye rolling and muttering under breath from the doctors that had treated him. Even more so when he'd insisted the scar was left to heal naturally. He blamed himself for the death of that boy, and now he would wear a reminder of that forever. Now he was being monitored for secondary infection and to ensure he rested. He didn't expect to be cooped up in sickbay for too long though. It was strange, having the Commodore as his neighbour when their first meeting had been frosty at best. Her offering food was even stranger. He pulled himself up, and winced at the strain on his shoulder and bruised bones. Taking the plate Rik eyed it a moment before meeting the Commodore's eyes. "Thank you m'am, I believe I did mention it in a haze... Never known what the stuff was but fancied giving it a go... Last few moments down there are ... Hazy." He admitted. Rik inclined his head and proceeded to follow the Commodore's actions with the fries. "Fries in the middle, fold and smash... Watch out for mess. Got it," he added with a grin.

"Good, huh?" She asked, taking a bite with the same care and precision that a painter would work on canvas. While shwarma was one of her guilty pleasures, the clean-up process afterwards most certainly was not and she'd devised a careful etiquette when it came to consuming the Mediterranean treat. If anything, she was downright dainty, often leaving one to wonder if she was the squeamish type that used a fork and knife to deal with barbecued ribs or hot wings. The answer? She'd never be caught dead with either.

Rik nodded, his mouth full as he leaned over the plate having not quite mastered the elegance of eating shwarma that appeared to come to Rochelle with ease. "It's mighty fine," the gum-shoe said once he'd managed to swallow his mouthful. After a few days on medical supplements and healthy eating he was glad to get something with a little bit more substance.

"Listen... There's been a lot of buzzing through the crew," Rochelle gestured around to the fluttering nurses, "About how Admiral Red is planning to roast you on a pike for something you did when I was indisposed." Another bite gave her a moment to think on what she was going to say next, all the while watching the dark haired gum-shoe with concern and interest as she chewed and finally swallowed, dusting her fingers of pita placed flour remnants, "I can't do anything about that, but what I can say is to own up to whatever it is and she'll likely just slap your wrists and walk away from it feeling like you've learned your lesson. Which... I'm sure you have." Her eyebrows lifted and her chin dropped as she gave the man a knowing look aimed straight for whatever soul he had left. "Especially after your last display with Kyym and retrieving Kassek, I'm su—" Her nose wrinkled slightly as she caught sight of Amelia. Her arrival announced that one on one time was over and whatever advice she had left to give would need to wait. It also meant she was likely in for yet another round of scorn, something she had no desire to deal with in the open medical environment. "Looks like the gang's all here." She grinned lightly.

"The two people on the ship who've put me through a wringer of worry, in one captive audience," Amelia mused as she approached, eying Rochelle and Rik with her head cocked to one side. "Either the tides are turning, and things are returning to normal, or I need to be extra worried." She stood at the end of their beds, a PADD tapping against her thigh as she considered.

Rochelle looked up with a quizzically lifted brow as she listened to her friend's voice lilting with suspicion. "I fed him. Sue me." She replied with a chuckle and offered her plate to Amelia, happy to share the relatively large meal with someone better inclined to finishing it. Like it or not, she wasn't quite ready to embark on ventures like eating heavy. Not yet. Not while things were so new and her nerves still shot to Hell.

Rik didn't have time to comment on Rochelle's advice beyond a simple nod as Amelia walked in. The red-headed dame brought a smile to his lips, as she came into view. He took another bite of the wrap and gave her a small wink as she approached. "I imagine we're a sight for sore eyes," the gum-shoe commented looking to Rochelle and then at his own bandaged torso. "You've gotta try this stuff doll, it's good." He added, taking another bite. He wasn't sure if it was being kept under medical observations and confined to bed or the pain medicines but his head was fuzzier than normal. Sure, Amelia sent him dizzy - but this felt different.

"Is this what you'd been calling for in your blood loss induced haze?" she asked, accepting the offered plate from Rochelle, and offering the PADD in return. She settled on the edge of Rik's bed, and eyed the contents of the plate. "It smells delicious, at least." She let herself be distracted by the food, not saying all the things she wanted to say to both of them; how stupid they'd both been running off alone, how angry she was they'd both almost gotten themselves killed, and how absolutely relieved she was to see them both recovering safely in Vindicator's sickbay.

Taking the PADD, Rochelle drew her knees up and rested it on her thighs. The moment she flicked it on, she instantly regretted it. While she'd even gone so far as to demand the information from Archer when she'd first woken up after surgery, she wasn't quite ready to remember and deal with everything going on with that ridiculous planet filled with ridiculous people. "I'm going to make this really simple so we can all go home." She interrupted, clearing her throat. "Cecil is my porter for now. Aaaaand..." Her voice drawled as she flipped through the rest of the PADD's myriad of faces and biographies. "We'll say the regent is Kayana Etol. Kessek seems to have endorsed her heavily. Problem solved, case closed, we can go home now."

"Good, I'll get this to the right stuffed shirts, and set course back to the Cheydinhall Sector, and Cold Station Theta, as soon as they acknowledge and accept," Amelia returned, collecting the shwarma from the plate. "Lieutenant Calhoun wanted me to make sure you initial and thumb print in all seven locations in your declaration statement, to avoid room to challenge your appointments."

To that the injured Commodore snorted softly and lit the PADD back up. "If I never see Atlantis Prime again..." Her voice drifted off in a soft glower while she worked on the aforementioned declaration statement.

It was good to have Amelia close by. Rik didn't know if it was the fact this was the first time he'd seen her since being beamed to sickbay, or the haze of the pain medication the doctors had decided to put him on, but she looked a vision sitting there at the end of his bed and assumed the former. He took another bite of the shwarma, still unsure exactly how eating it with any amount of class was supposed to happen. How had the Commodore made it so easy? "It will be entirely too soon." Rik finished, before looking up, "What... happened to Imrol?" he asked after a moment.

Rochelle's eyes flicked towards Rik, appreciative for the way he finished her train of thought. At least they were on the same page when it came to the nightmare they'd just been pulled from a couple days prior. "Everything on here indicates that he's alive and well, that he's offered to hold an advisory role for the regent... Something to help prevent another Kyym fiasco from coming about." She replied, removing her gaze from the gumshoe to peer questioningly at Amelia to see if she'd heard anything else. "Do you know if the boy has been buried? If not..." She paused, her heart heavy with memories of Zed's precious face and how badly she hoped he, Landon, and Tristan had found safety somewhere. The idea of losing him was enough to break her heart and she, admittedly, was a far cry from being the boy's mother. "I'd like him to be laid to rest with a proper funeral and in the royal cemetery. He deserves those honors to say the least." Her voice was deeper, made husky by the raw emotion that clenched at her throat. The fact anyone had died because of her, let alone an innocent child, made her ill at ease with guilt.

"Imrol's been a fantastic help, and in continuous contact with Calhoun on the legal matters. He is having a rough time of it for losing his son, as is to be expected, but he hasn't had time to make arrangements yet that I'm aware of. I'll have your directions relayed down to the correct people to handle it though, and if some sort of official statement's needed — Kahless forbid someone's an ass about burying a child, particularly the child of someone like him — I'm sure Calhoun will be quick to get something drafted to allow it to happen. She's been a great resource through this whole shit storm." She finally took a bite of the food she'd picked up from the plate, and grinned in approval at what she tasted.

Rik shifted a little uncomfortably in his bed as the conversation turned to that of burying the child that had been lost, lost as a result of his actions. While he knew no one else blamed him, not even Imrol himself, Rik did and the expression was clear on his face. He adjusted, rubbing the gauze pad that had been placed over his shoulder wound to protect it as it healed. Despite medical objecting, he'd insisted in having the injury repaired the old fashioned way. The way that left a scar once it had healed as a reminder of the life saved, and life lost. "That would be... nice," the gum-shoe said wishing they'd be able to attend, before taking another bite. "Calhoun is good, wasn't fully convinced by her paralegal friend... but they got the job done." He mused, thinking he would throw more work their way. He trusted them, and finding a lawyer you could trust was a rare thing.

"What's not to love about Drax?" Amelia protested, turning to look at Rik. She sighed as she saw his long face, and laid a hand on the blanket that covered his leg, giving a bit of a squeeze. "An argument with a Tellarite is good fun, and I had to assure him he had an IOU for a topic I could keep up on at a later date, just to get him to focus the couple times I've had to visit so far."

Rik couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips and then immediately regretted the action and winced, groaning a little as the ache from cracked ribs took hold. "Well, if I have to stay staring at these four walls for much longer, I may invite the bo down for some arguing to pass the time. He's a solid enough mind though. Dread to think what you'll be arguing about doll." He added with a small wink to Amelia, intrigued by the argument she had promised the Paralegal.

Rochelle eyed Caine in a manner most quizzical. She knew the story, recognized the signs of guilt as they wrote themselves ever so clearly across his face. He kept his mark the same way she'd kept the Whydah's scars across her back before her near death on Notura. It was just one more thing to talk with him about at a later date and she silently wondered when it was that she'd agreed to become a life coach, and whether or not it had just slipped in on the coat tails of taking over command of a vessel - even a ship as unconventional as the Vindicator. "I'll skip the pointless arguing." She grumbled, plucking a stray fry off the plate she'd handed Amelia. Her stomach may not have been ready for greasy food, but she found herself tempted by the promise of salty goodness.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officer
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E

Master Chief Petty Officer Rik Caine
Security Investigator/Chief of the Boat
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E

 

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