Sushi for Beginners...

Posted on Sat Jan 25th, 2025 @ 12:17am by Captain Lorut Vila & Lieutenant Commander Frasier Greene

3,020 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Short Treks
Location: Lorut's Quarters
Timeline: A few days after Search Party

Things had finally calmed down a little-the team was traumatized at the sudden loss of Captain Culver, and Vila was struggling with running the ship herself-Lyo was cold and distant, but they were at least able to talk, and the Admiral had been decent for once. Today, Vila had had to do "inform famiies of deaths" bullshit, something she didn't savor and had been one of the more difficult things she'd ever done. It was one thing to kill a Cardassian that had imprisoned you and tell his mother that the bastard had deserved it, but it was another when the dead was innocent.

Vila had given the Alpha shift a day off, including herself, and let Beta shift run things for a bit. All had been ordered to see Dr. Campbell and her people, especially Aurora and Dr. Gocx. Her therapy was on her regular time, at that day's lunch hour, and it had helped. A tiny bit. Vila hated to admit that, though. Now? She had needed comfort and intimacy, and had asked Fraiser to come over for dinner. She had other plans for later, but they WOULD eat-if for no other reason than to steel her stomach for the inordinate amount of wine she was seriously considering. She was doing her best to push those thoughts away as she stepped into a black dress, fixed her hair a bit, and refreshed her makeup. She crossed to the replicator, ordered up two glasses of bubbly wine, and then sat back to wait. She might as well give Fraiser the passcode for her door, or at least tell the computer to let him in when he came by so they didn't have to do this little dance anymore. She'd do that tonight.

Understanding the unpleasant nature of Vila's workload today Frasier was acutely aware how vulnerable and emotional she could be this evening. He persuaded S'Tera to allow him to pick blooms from the arboretum and secured the scented flowers with a neat ribbon. Checking both himself dressed in pinstripe shirt with dark trousers and bouquet were in order he arrived at her quarters and waited for consent to cross inside.

"Computer, let him in, please. Pin that order; always recognize the voice for Dr. Fraiser Greene," she advised. The Computer would, from now on, open the doors as soon as he spoke. She'd also give him an access code, anyway. The doors opened, and she smiled, pressing a glass of Springwine into his hand.

"Hi," he pressed his lips gently against hers before stepping back and brought the flowers up into view. "I thought these might help brighten things."

She kissed him back gently, and then smiled. "Thank you," she said. "They're beautiful," she said, taking the bouquet from him. She placed them carefully in her sink. "Sit," she said. "I'll put these in water, and then we can eat," she said. "Can you use the replicator? It's already dialed up, but I just need it to be plated," she said, pulling a vase from under the sink. It was old, and she'd forgotten where she'd gotten it, but she apparently had kept it for some reason. And good thing she did. She prepped the flowers, and then set the vase on the table.

"I can manage," Frasier replied and pulled his gaze away as she busied herself with the flowers having found her attire both attractive and distracting.

"Have you ever had sushi?" She asked. "Replicator kind is usually cooked, but it's still good," she said. "We'll have to have the REAL stuff someday," she said. "I stuck with white fish and salmon. I figured those were safe," she explained. "If you can't do it, I DO understand. There's some leftover pasta I can heat up for you!" She said. Her dinner the night before had been pasta penne-her regular recipe she'd whipped up quickly before she'd had to declare deaths.

"It's not been on the top of menu choices," the Doctor confessed and retrieved the small wraps and rice parcels from the replicator. "I'll try everything at least once, how else will you learn or discover new things?"

"Thanks for seeing me...I know I've been extra...needy this week and you're being great about it. I just want you to know I appreciate it," she said. She wasn't always a horrid bitch, just when she was overwhelmed and overtired. Which was 99% of the time.

"You don't need to thank me," he said before sitting at the now laid table. "I want to help wherever I can. I may not be authorised to help carry your responsibilities but I can at least help lift your spirits."

She smiled as she settled in across from Fraiser. "I know. Still. This is the second night in a row that I've asked you to come by. I know we're...dating, I guess, but I also know that it's out of character," she said. Truth was, she was a tiny bit annoyed that he'd managed to bust through the walls she put up. He didn't seem to mind that she was so tempestuous, and he didn't seem to care that she was being needy today. "But I think...I might need you more this week, too. Until I get my footing back under me," she said.

"That's OK, you know where to find me," Frasier replied trying not to read too much into her words about them dating almost as if it should remain secret. Was she ashamed to be seen with him?

She picked up her chopsticks. "Do you know how to use these, at least?" She asked.

"Umm..." Frasier came back to his senses as she began to give him a run down of the menu.

"Yeah, sushi is a learned taste. It's brave of you to try it," she said, seriously. "I admire that you're willing to try it for me," she said. "But it will not hurt my feelings if it's not your thing."

"I'll give it ago," he picked the chopsticks and tried to mirror her grasp clumsily.

"This one is salmon," she said pointing to plates."Rolled into a ball with just rice, cucumber, and some seaweed. I like to put it with this stuff," she said, indicating the green wasabi-"It's spicy wasabi," she said, "and soy sauce," she said, indicating the glass bottle she'd brought over. She poured some out into a tiny bowl she'd put out earlier. "You can pour it on, or dip it. Either way is correct," she said. She picked up a roll and place it on her plate, then dipped it carefully in the sauce, before setting it down, and spreading some of the spicy dip on it with the tip of her chopstick. She looked up at Fraiser. "You can use your fingers, too," she said, trying to make him feel encouraged. The first time was always hard.

"Right," he breathed and sat a little straighter preparing himself for whatever was to come. Awkwardly he tried to pick up the nearest salmon ball with the chopsticks but it slithered away from his feeble attempt. He tried again, then on the fourth attempt he let out a sigh. "Maybe I'll just forgo these for now."

She chuckled, but nodded. "You can practice," she said. "It's not terrible, is it?" She asked. She'd work with him. If she could learn it as a Bajoran with no official formal education, so could he!! She did have a decade of practice, though. Not just her ex-husband, but her friends on the Starships she'd lived on and so forth had all been fans of the earth Cuisine. "I'm not terribly hungry, but if you are, feel free to replicate yourself more," she said. "I won't judge you if you pick pizza or something," she said. It was true. She wanted to get to the GOOD stuff for the night, before she had to call HQ in the wee hours of the morning-late morning for Albion-and reveal the bad news. She wondered if she could drag Fraiser with her to do that. Ugh, being the now-Acting Captain was hard. Harder than being XO; now she'd have to be on her best behavior, too.

"I'll try some of everything first," he assured her sensing her desire to share this with him in the future. Trying the chopsticks again he gritted his teeth: "Might take me a while at his rate though. How do you make it look so easy?"

She laughed. "I've practiced," she said. "That's all it'll take. It took me a few times of trying it to get the hang of it," she said. "Contrary to whatever I might SAY, I am not good at everything at first jump," she said. "You're being brave," she said, encouragingly. Or at least, she hoped so.

"There's a fine line between brave and foolish," Frasier smirked. "Have I got this right?" he asked showing her his finger positioning on the chopsticks. "Feels so strange, unnatural almost."

She laughed. "Sometimes, I can't tell the difference," she said. She looked at his fingers. "Yes," she said. She held up her own hand, showing him how she held her chopsticks, like a pencil, in between her left middle finger, pointer finger, and thumb in a K shape. Fraiser mirrored hers, though, as he was right handed.

"How did you get introduced to sushi?" he asked attempting again to manhandle a piece into the soy dish. It landed heavily into the liquid with soft splat and peppered the table top with brown dots. Biting back his frustration he retrieved the soggy fish with his finger tips and put it aside on the plate to drain off the excess liquid.

"My ex-husband," she said. "He was human, as you know, and he liked it," she said. "Anytime we went to Earth, or a station or base that had a decent Asian restaurant, we did a sushi night," she said. "I learned over time to at least appreciate the flavours, and I DO enjoy some of it. But there's even things I don't eat," she said. "Can't do octopus," she said. "Is it not popular where you're from?" She asked. He was human, too, of course, but Earth was a diverse place.

"Ugh," Frasier grimaced. "I'd properly pass on the octopus too. To be honest it's not the sort of thing I've really been tempted to try." He said, "There's such a choice when it comes to cuisine. However, I spent many late nights or long days getting by on whatever was available in the communal area of the hospitals or practice. I didn't always have the luxury of quality or variety."

Vila nodded. "I see," she said. "That makes sense," she said. "You will have to share one of your favorites with me," she said. "I admit that life on Starships and Bases has maybe been a little easier in that sense," she said. "Replicators are EVERYWHERE, and I never wanted for anything. Any cuisine anywhere I wanted, I could get. It's amazing I don't weigh two hundred pounds," she said. "I think some of it is because food was scarce during the Occupation, and so I learned to not be super picky, but some of it is just learned tastes," she said.

He chuckled: "I can't imagine you'd allow yourself to gorge that much."

She smiled. "Not usually," she said. "Though put a plate of pasta in front of me, and it's all bets off," she said. It was true. Vila could pack away noodles like a teenager with bread. "But it's true...I like to eat, and I like to share my love of food with people I like..." she said. "Alright, how are you doing? Need a refill?" She asked, regarding his wine. "Maybe some iced tea?" She asked. She was more of a hot tea person but she was trying to incorporate more things into her diet to make up for not drinking so much alcohol and such.

"Another glass would be nice," Frasier nodded. "Goes well with the saltiness of the sauce, even if I'm splashing most on the table," he smirked.

She nodded, and stood up to retrieve the drink. "You're doing fine," she said, again. "Some people wouldn't even try," she said. "And you are so I'm proud of you for that." She smiled at him as she sat back down again. She was now waiting for him, but didn't want to rush him. She was lacking in her appetite tonight-they'd been seeing each other long enough that he would recognise this as rare, but not alarming, given the situation.

"Thank you," he acknowledged the refill. "I don't think I would have tried it in the past or at least not so willingly. What about you? You've barely eaten anything. Are you feeling alright?"

Vila sighed. "Yeah, just...stress," she said. "I did eat some," she said. "But I can't eat too much fish; whatever is the difference between Bajorans and humans is irritated by too much fish and seafood," she said. "Makes my stomach hurt." Honestly, she had no idea if that was even a THING or just her, and she'd never bothered to find out. "I know we share 98% of the same genes, but the small differences sometimes matter more than the big ones," she said.

"No point making yourself feel bloated unnecessarily," he replied putting aside his plate. "Though of course there are remedies to relive the symptoms. I understand why you feel stressed considering what's happened and properly won't believe it when I say - you're good at this and can handle whatever comes."

"I know I CAN do it...I just don't know if I WANT to," she said. "Besides, the Fleet might only let me be "acting" Captain for however long it takes for us to head back to HQ and they install someone else..." She said. "And who knows if that means we'd all stay together?" She shrugged. "There's a lot to think about, and I am not really the best at thinking through things in the outset-I am more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person," she said.

"I noticed," Frasier smirked. "I like that spontaneous side of you, its the opposite to me. I tend to overthink to the point when I talk myself out of something."

He reached over the table and took her hand: "Look, no matter what the future has in hold for you, me, us, the crew, whatever its not set in stone and right now there's nothing we can do to change it. We can only focus on the here and now by taking each day as they come." He squeezed her hand. "Though I cannot carry your responsibilities I want to support you, providing you don't object."

Vila nodded quietly. "Thank you," she said. "You're right," she said. She reached out to pick up one of his sushi rolls. She ate it carefully before speaking. "I would appreciate it," she said. "I know I am doing better...but not yet where I want to be, but I think I can be," she said. "Soon. With your help. And Lt. Campbell's. And the others," she said. She looked around. "Are you having a good time? You seem miserable," she said, smiling lightly.

"It's certainly among the quietest of our evenings together," he confessed beginning to feel as if they weren't on the same page with their emotions. He began to fret and absently caressed her hand with his thumb. The moment seemed to stop as he dared to ask the next question and noting how it twisted his gut. "But if you'd rather I leave..."

Vila stared at him. "I think you've misunderstood. I meant the FOOD," she said. "I have plans for YOU later," she said. "I want you to stay...and we DO need to talk but...I don't want you to go."

"Oh," Frasier replied breathlessly. Still feeling on edge and fearful he was destined for another relationship disaster any second.

She was far more forward than he was, she knew, and she also knew that she didn't do bullshit. "I am not sure how the future will look yet; they're talking about bringing in a new captain but that might take a bit, and in the meantime...I like where we're at. Can we just continue like this?" She asked. Sometimes, it was terrible having to have conversations like this. She missed being just a department head sometimes-things were easier then.

He wanted to sag with relief into a pool upon the carpet. "That's what I'm trying to say... in a poor fashion. I want to help you through whatever comes, at your side through thick and thin." He paused feeling a pang of terror creep in again and swallowed heavily. "What do you want? Where do you think we're going?"

Vila smiled lightly. "Calm down," she said, and leaned forward. She kissed him. And then she answered him. "I think we're going towards something serious and solid, and I like that. I mean...I am not interested in, say, marriage, but having a long-term partner...yeah. I am alright with that," she said. "If you want to..." she said.

"I'd love that," Frasier breathed letting go of the lungful he'd help gulped hurriedly when she lent over the table. "Solid and serious is something I can do."

She smiled, but kissed him gently. After a moment, she pulled away. "Perfect," she said. "Then so can I," she said. "Hurry up and eat so we can cut to dessert," she grinned, wickedly.

Catching her expression Frasier felt slightly giddy with relief and quickly nudged his plate to one side with eagerness. "I'm already done."

She laughed, and took his hand, leading him towards the couch, where she pulled him down to kiss him properly.

"Mmm," Frasier muttered between the kisses and traced her silhouette lightly. "I was hoping to ease you out of this little number." His fingers slipped over the fabric of her black dress and deftly toyed with the zip.

Fade to black

 

RSS Feed