The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Tuesday evening

Duke had spent most of the day yesterday -- most of his time since seeing Nathan off on Sunday, in fact -- out at sea. He'd probably still be out there if he hadn't made plans for today, both the now-usual yoga with Rey in the morning and his dinner date-thing with Jack.

Not a date-date. Jack didn't think it'd be a date-date, did she? He was pretty sure she didn't see it as a date -- she wasn't really the romance type. Not that he'd object if she did. He and Nathan weren't exactly exclusive, and Nathan was a thousand miles away, and Duke was definitely overthinking this. He wasn't sixteen anymore.

This was a casual dinner between friends. Or, alternately, an intervention. Apparently it was his life's mission to fix people with no taste for the finer things in life.

He stirred his red sauce and checked the eel on the grill. Everything was just about ready.

He propped the door open so he could keep an eye on the galley and headed out onto the deck with some beer to wait for Jack.

And kick another of those damn porg things off his ship.

[for the one mentioned in the narrative. And thus ends my mini-spam]