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]

"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

[betterthanaplan]

". . . You're fucking with me, aren't you."

Briny, tinny flavor.

Duke shook his head and sipped his wine. "Olive oil, vinegar, and garlic are three things that make just about anything taste good. So I'm not surprised." He watched her eat, waiting for her reaction, suddenly terrified she'd end up hating it.

And trying to remind himself that it didn't matter if she hated it or not, because experiences -- and friendships -- were transitory.

[biotic_psychotic]

"I'm fucking with you," Jack admitted, "Nobody with a fuckin' forebrain enjoys canned mushrooms." She was eating carefully but not because she didn't like the food. Jack normally treated food as if it might be taken away from her if she didn't eat it fast enough - she was trying not to do that.

The first bite of eel surprised her - and she let it show, brows rising in appreciation. "You weren't wrong," she said, "This is good."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke couldn't have kept the smile that reaction got off his face, though he did manage to tone it down just a little. Wouldn't do to let on that he'd worried about it.

"See? I told you. Eel's good shit."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Am I going to break your heart if I tell you I like the spaghetti better?" Jack asked. She thought about it a minute and added, "I think it's the texture. The eel's flavor's good but the texture, I'm not used to it."

Kind of like if a salmon and an octopus had some sort of weird meat baby.

[betterthanaplan]

"Nah, you're allowed to like the spaghetti better." He was proving a point as much with that as the eel, after all. "I can give you the recipe if you want. It's almost as easy as just opening a can."

It was several more steps than that. But it was also several levels of taste better, so.

[biotic_psychotic]

"The cans come with pull tops now," Jack told him, "They're pretty fuckin' easy to open." She huffed a laugh, "Nah, nah.. I'll take the recipe, thanks. Maybe I'll shock Sparkle some day by inviting him up for something actually cooked."

Certainly nothing could go wrong if she followed a recipe.

She nodded at his glass, "You like the wine?"

[betterthanaplan]

"It's the best negative-seven year old chianti I've ever had," Duke said, smirking.

It was really very good wine.

[biotic_psychotic]

"At least it ain't vinegar," Jack smirked, "I should bring you back some Serrice ice brandy next time I'm home. You might appreciate it. It's expensive as hell due to the scarcity but I know a guy."

[betterthanaplan]

Duke raised his eyebrows and his glass. "Here's to knowing a guy."

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack saluted him back with hers. "And a back way out of every-damn-where."

[betterthanaplan]

"Here, fucking here." Duke took a healthy belt of the wine. "So tell me more about this ice brandy. What's it taste like?"

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack thought about it for a minute, trying to find a way to explain it. "Here on Earth, most brandy's made from like, grapes and plums and cherries and shit, right? 'Bout a thousand years ago, an Asari consortium called the Serrice Council genetically engineered some shit that can grow on an ice planet. Trying to find a way to feed miners and shit without having to import all the fuckin' food. One of the things they created was this dumb-ass little blue fruit. Bland as hell but high in sugars. Good for fuck-all on its own. Nobody'd eat the damn things because in the cold, took more energy to fuckin' eat 'em than they gave back."

She drank some of her wine, "Miners bein' miners, some of 'em fermented the fuckers, made iceberry wine out of it. Still bland as fuck but it'd get you drunk and that was all they really cared about. Someone got the bright idea to run that sumbitch through a still. Twice. That's when the magic happened. Heating the wine causes a chemical reaction, some sort of synthesis in the sugars. Distill it once, it's okay. Distill it twice? You got yourself some kickass brandy."

Jack smiled a little, "Mine played out, miners were transported off the world. Couple dozen years later, survey team went to check it out again, see if there were any other elements could be sucked outta it. Found the brandy the miners had left behind, cracked a bottle. Realized they had something special. Turns out when you leave the shit to age a decade or so, it becomes the smoothest ride you'll ever have."

[betterthanaplan]

"Well damn. And unless someone decided to set up more stills, I'm guessing that's a very small batch to source from."

[biotic_psychotic]

"Bet your ass they did," Jack said with a smile, "Serrice Council paid off the survey team, started a full fucking industry for it. Limited supply every year so they could control the market for it. Before the war, it was expensive but not impossible. Now? Serrice Council was hit by the war. Nothing's been in production for at least three years. But like I said, I know a guy."