The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Tuesday evening

[betterthanaplan]

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]

Comments

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack watched a porg come waddling quickly down the gangplank, trilling unhappily. It looked up at her and fluttered it's wings, making an almost defensive little coo. She squinted at it. "Kiki?" she asked suspiciously. The porg tilted its head this way and that, looking up at her. She knelt to examine it but, no, this one wasn't looking at her with recognition. It let her give it a tentative pat on the head before it waddled back up the dock toward the shore, churbling its complaints to all and sundry.

"Yo," Jack called by way of asking if she could come aboard, as she walked up the gangplank. She'd brought a bottle of a good Chianti and, because she was a brat there was also a paper bag containing spiced dark chocolates she'd brought home from Mexico. Out of deference to Duke's - or, really, any average person's - tastebuds, she'd brought the ones she thought of as 'sweet'. A 73% single-source dark chocolate with candied orange peel, cinnamon, a tiny bit of sea salt, and chili pepper. Just enough to give it bite, not enough to really sting.

The food smelled amazing even from here.

Jack was dressed almost belligerently normal, with one exception: the t-shirt she wore over the tank had no snarky saying, crude symbol, or rips held together with safety pins. Out of respect for the staining power of tomatoes, it was black. She didn't know how people dressed on dates but had almost gone out of her way to dress casually but still not quite as casually as was her usual casual because this was not a date, damnit, they were just having dinner. That was all. Sure.

"I brought wine and chocolates," she informed Duke, making it to the deck, "Someone who actually gives a crap about such things said that both go with spaghetti. Jury was out whether either paired with eel."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke was . . . dressed exactly like he always did. It was a dark denim button down instead of a plaid one, at least?

They made quite the pair, really.

"Eel's pretty fatty," he said, waving her aboard. "I think it'll hold up to a spaghetti-and-chocolates wine. So. Inside or outside? I'm good either way."

[biotic_psychotic]

She headed over and handed him the bottle and the bag. "Depends if you have air conditioning inside," she answered after a moment of thought, "It's kind of fuckin' swampy out here but at least there's a breeze." Another porg could be seen trying to sneak its way up the gangplank. "And apparently hungry little mutant puffins."

Jack eyed the grill, "How did you manage to make eel smell like actual food?" Which was, yes, a compliment.

[betterthanaplan]

"I've sailed this thing to the tropics, Jack. There's A/C." He looked over the bottle, eyebrows going up as he read the label. "And it's a little trick I picked up over the years, called 'cooking it'. Radical concept, I know."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Inside then," she decided, "I've been on actual swamp planets that weren't this humid." One eyebrow went up, "What in space made you think I'd eat raw eel?" A beat, "Well, other than I would if it was the only thing available but I'd have to be pretty fuckin' hungry to try. The last time I had it was cooked, it just, you know, tasted of fuckin' eel."

Conger eel. Not the best eel meat.

"Yours at least doesn't smell like that one."

A lift of her chin toward the bottle and a faint smirk. "I had fun buying that."

[betterthanaplan]

"Don't eat raw eel," Duke advised. "The blood's poisonous. At least try to, like, set it on fire first." He glanced in the bag at the chocolates, but pretty immediately went back to looking over the wine. "I'll bet you did. Nice to know you've got taste for some things at least." He gestured her towards the hatch with his head. "Come on in. We can let this breathe while I show you around. Pasta should be ready in a few."

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack shrugged, "Wouldn't be the first poisonous thing I ate but, again: eel ain't ever gonna be my first choice, especially raw. Good to know though, thanks."

She smiled, "I have taste for things that matter. Booze matters. How the hell can you know what's worth stealing if you don't know what the good shit is?" A nod at the bottle, "Thought about stealing that just outta deference to the whole pirate class thing, but it was almost more fun paying for it. The sommelier tried to direct me to the local big-box store. He almost had a fuckin' brain bleed when I started dismissing the stuff he had on display and insisted on particular years. The growing season on that little baby was nice and long, and that fuckin' winery don't produce crap even with their low grade. Which that ain't."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke nodded. "Still trips me out to see dates after 2008," he admitted. "Part of me is pretty sure this stuff should be negative-seven years old."

His next postcard to Nathan was definitely going to start "greetings from the future!"

"You know there's plenty of black market for food too, right? Hell, I've seen black truffles go for thousands of dollars." He shook his head. "That is a cutthroat market. Do not cross the truffle people."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Heh, and for me it's a fuckin' antique over 150 years old," Jack noted with a small snort. "I knew about the black market for food, just not, you know, fuckin' fish," Jack added, "Truffles are good, morel mushrooms ain't bad. Couple other types of fungus, higher risk but higher payoff if it's psychotropic. Caviar, olive oil. Mostly looked at shit that could handle pressurization. Food's a small market compared to booze in that fuckin' respect."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke shrugged. "Fair enough." He waved around the main living space of the Rouge, galley on one side, a table area and u-shaped couch on the other. "Welcome to my humble abode. There's a lot more down through the passage ways, but I spend most of my time here if I'm not above decks."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Nice place. Way better on the inside," she noted, "Homey." It was. The space was warm and inviting, comfortable. It had good light. She squinted at the skylights. Hadn't seen those from outside so she spent a minute puzzling out how he'd hidden them. Had to be the cargo hold doors, somehow. A small nod because that was clever.

"How long did this take you?"

[betterthanaplan]

"Awhile," Duke said. "It's kind of an ongoing project." There were always more hidey holes and secret passages to be put in, after all. "Got it mostly finished probably about six years ago? When I first set off, I basically had a sleeping bag in an empty hold."

He'd run some pretty stupid jobs in the early days, just trying to get the cash to upgrade.

[biotic_psychotic]

"Sleeping bag in the hold is usually how I travel," Jack noted, "Had a bunk in the hold on the Normandy. Still do, her new captain ain't idiot enough to touch it." Also Vega was a squishy sap who sort of hoped that she and the rest of the original crew would come back. That wasn't going to happen, but.. squishy sap.

She wandered around the space, looking at the stuff on the walls and on the plate rail thing around the edge. "Souvenirs?"

[betterthanaplan]

"What's the point of earning money if I'm not going to use it to at least make myself comfortable?" Duke said with a shrug. "And yeah. I like to pick up at least a little something any time I go somewhere new."

From Fandom, it was probably going to end up being a porg. And then he'd have to try not to let it go ashore anywhere else he went for the rest of his life.

[biotic_psychotic]

"Keeping score," Jack answered idly, "Money helps you keep score." She snorted and shook her head, "I forget I have any half the time. Until I need to furnish a fuckin' apartment or something and just.. you know.. buy everything at once because I can. Still hasn't really hit that I have a space I could put things if I collected them. Stuff was always.. you know. Stuff that might have to get left behind."

[betterthanaplan]

"That's the advantage of having your own ship," Duke said. "You get to leave a lot less behind." He shrugged. "Not that I don't still have to economize from time to time. There's only so much space in here, after all."

He had entire crew berths full of random crap.

[jack_zero]

"Not my kind of ship," Jack said with a smile, "And I'm spoiled. Normandy's EDI's chassis. Piloting a ship with no personality's just fuckin' weird now. Nah, I have the apartment. I just haven't.. found stuff, yet. Other than the furniture."

Which was surprisingly tasteful, mostly because she'd found something that said both 'comfort' and 'class' and purchased the entire display. In a panic. As you do.

[betterthanaplan]

Duke didn't know what "EDI's chassis" meant. He decided it wasn't important enough to ask.

He shrugged. "Not like it's something you need to rush on," he said. "I figure it's nicer to decorate slowly with stuff you like than just throw random crap up on the walls because you feel like you have to."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Eh, maybe, when I get to a place where thinking about shit like that is a thing I do," Jack mused. "Still getting used to the space, you know? Like. I'm living on a planet. With actual multiple rooms and shit in my apartment. It's wild." A beat. "And a kitchen. Which is huge. Mostly Sparkle uses it."

Beat. She grinned, "Unless I'm making spaghetti."

[betterthanaplan]

"You don't make spaghetti," Duke said. "You murder it. Speaking of, the pasta should be ready." He moved over to the stove, stirring the various pots, and testing one of the noodles. "Perfecto." He kissed his fingers and started putting plates together to serve. "Spaghetti con salsa rossa, anguilla alla griglia e verdure di bosco. Buon appetito."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Thanks," Jack said, because universal translators were great, "That's the hope, right, that I'll enjoy the eel? I already know I like spaghetti. And I don't, you know, murder it. I can tell when I murder something. Kaidan's palm marries his face for like a fuckin' week and Kanan gives me this pained sort of 'was there no other way' look. I'm on this whole fuckin' diet where murder is concerned. Spaghetti, however, I can have."

[betterthanaplan]

"Canned mushrooms," Duke said, shaking his head. "Anyway, this spaghetti will have actual flavor. And yes, the hope is that you'll enjoy the eel. Personally this is one of my favorite ways to prepare it."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Fresh mushrooms go bad too fast to keep in the fridge," Jack pointed out with a shrug, "They're a good source of B-vitamins and I like 'em way the fuck better than I like getting goddamn shots. So what did you do to the eel, anyway? Marinate it in something?"

[betterthanaplan]

"You're in luck then, my friend. Because mushrooms can be dried. Take up less space that way, too." He poured the wine. "Rubbed it in garlic, marinated it in olive oil and vinegar, and basted it while it cooked. A bit more effort than the spaghetti, but worth it when you've got the time."

[biotic_psychotic]

"I have dried mushrooms," Jack said, "They take too long to rehydrate when I'm in a hurry and they don't get that sort of briney, tinny flavor of the canned ones."

She smiled a little at the description of the eel, "Olive oil, vinegar, garlic.. that's usually how I make salad dressing. Sounds tasty, though."

Well, there she went, taking her first bite of eel.

oh god I'm so sorry