JL | CDR Valeese, LCDR Stacker | "Climbing Walls and Candlelight" pt 2

Posted on Sat Nov 4th, 2017 @ 9:36pm by Commander Valeese Stacker

Mission: The Round Table
Location: LCDR Stacker's Quarters | Deck 681 | Cold Station Theta

"I take it that this meets with the Valeese stamp of approval?" he teasingly inquired. Stacker's hearing may not have been as sharp as hers, but they instinctively pricked at the evident undertone of pleasure. Some part of him half-expected her to start purring as she sampled more food; he also found himself warmed by the reaction and glad both of it and her company at that moment in time. It had genuinely been a long, long, time since he'd had reason to cook for anyone other than himself, and finding that his cooking skills still passed muster - especially with her - made him even borderline thrilled to have invited her here tonight. Before he could get carried away in his own reaction to her pleasure, however, he took another bite of his food and settled for slowly chewing it, watching her respond to this small piece of Terran cuisine and letting it warm his soul.

An emphatic nod would meet the requirements of response, right along with an expression that conveyed sheer bliss. "Food is the only beautiful thing that truly nourishes... Its... Well... Art." She shrugged, "and I'd say that you're one hell of an artist when it comes to this masterpiece." Though the phrase was often that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, Valeese was more than able to be wooed through being fed... Apparently. None had tried to curry her favor through the use of culinary fare, but given her propensity to enjoy him, it stood to reason that she'd be further wooed through his cooking and the all but forgotten intimacy of sharing a private meal by candlelight. "You're a man of many talents, it would seem. I look forward to finding out what else you have hidden up your sleeve."

He leaned in a tad bit closer - not too closely, for there was a table and two lit candles in the way - as if sharing a secret with her. "Well I've got something else hidden here," he said with a conspiratorial tilt-of-the-head to the casserole dish on the other side of the candles. His hand gently lifted the lid and placed it aside, letting the smell of the pasta waft up into the air. "Speaking of masterpieces. It's not my absolute best by far, but I think - hope - you'll like it." His other hand found the larger spoon that had been placed on the table, specifically for serving purposes, and turned to offer the handle to her, the good eye seemingly twinkling in the light, dancing in amusement at the evident bliss splashed across her face from the bread. If you thought the bread was good... it seemed to say.

The delicate curved, pointed fans of her ears pricked towards him slightly as he spoke and an eyebrow lifted as she regarded him, "Scandalous." was the word, so perfect, that she chose to flash in his direction at the unveiling of the new dish. Garlic bread smelled like heaven, there was no such thing as there being too much garlic as far as she happened to be concerned, but the scent wafting towards her was nothing short of heaven and when put in the driver's seat of the serving spoon she served herself a portion, "You know... You may consider adding this to your interrogation techniques." The quip was only half in jest as she waited for him to take his share before gathering up her fork to embark on another culinary journey.

That first bite of gooey, creamy, pasta and vegetable filled perfection left her nodding and casting a wary glance his way, "You win," She announced, twirling her fork in her dish to gather another bite, "I'll tell you anything you want to know and do anything you want me to so long as you share the recipe. Sound like a plan?" Each flavor was an experience all unto itself for a member of a species that had senses as acute as hers. This, like most food from the Mediterranean region, was nearly sensory overload and she was on cloud nine.

It took a moment before Stacker was able to reply: he himself was busy, chewing on his own bite, doing that thing chefs were prone to do when it came to being self-critical and analyzing their own creations. He could, however, find nothing wrong with it and was thus even more pleased; it'd been years since he'd had opportunity to dust off this particular recipe. There were a few grandparents he owed notes of thank-you too when he had a moment, some small voice said in the back of his mind. But as for her ... "Deal. I'd be pleased to share the recipe. And make it whenever you want," he added with an uncharacteristic small wink at her. "Why bother making it yourself when someone else is willing to do the labor?" An eyebrow waggled at her in genuine good humor as he took another bite, savoring it slowly, relishing this entire experience for many, many reasons...

"Because there's something to be said for nights when being alone is inevitable but you want the memory of someone?" She countered without much thought. Even when she caught herself, the quick reply rolled from her like a bead of water off a duck's back. It felt fine... Right even, and she accepted it for what it was and where it was going.

Zing... You sure didn't see that one coming, did you? he asked himself, brow - arrested in its motion - quirked at her. It slowly returned to its natural position as he chewed his food and thought, mind evidently turning elsewhere. Finally, his throat worked as he swallowed, clearing himself to reply. It was still another moment before he did. "I hadn't considered that. You have a good point." The hint of that smile again graced the corners of his mouth as he stopped to take a drink of ice water, but it paused halfway to his lips. "Of course, you seem to have a lot of good points lately." Finally, the cool glass met his lips and he could take a drink.

Valeese's nose scrunched slightly as she shot him a quick, winning smile, "Don't stroke my ego, James, it's big enough already when it comes to certain things." She warned, walking her fingers along the rim of her own glass. Praise, however small, felt good. Almost as good as the warm, almost sleepy, feel of a full stomach and the quiet surrender of relaxation that came with the knowledge of acceptance and safety. So much better than any book she'd ever allowed herself to sink beneath the surface of, this new adventure was certainly on its way to becoming her favorite. "Anyway," she shrugged gently, chasing away silly thoughts, "I want to say thank you just in case I don't get a chance to later. You were right. This is much better than hiding and sulking in my quarters."

"I've been known to have my moments," he admitted as his glass gently thunked back onto the tabletop, somehow managing to keep a straight face as he went on. "They have been few and far between, but they are known to happen." His eyes watched as her delicate fingers circled the rim of her glass, and he leaned back a little in his chair as he did so, momentarily ignoring the silent call of the food. Had he known where her thoughts were, he might have agreed. Stacker had never been a student of the literature which Valeese had called 'research material,' but he had perused a few chapters. Fast-forward to the present and he would've agreed, if asked, that what was going on now was far superior to what was in those romance novels.

He broke the momentary silence by leaning forward in his chair, again, fingers questing for ... aha. The crunch of the breadcrust as he bit down seemed to fill the room, as his eyes sparked in delight again.

"Few and far between?" The Vorta queried, finally taking up her glass and sipping from it. It was her turn to watch him. Appetite, for the most part, sated, it became more about company than anything else - perhaps her favorite part of any interaction, "You could have fooled me. Candles, excellent food, conversation..." She sighed as she sat the glass down and gestured to their general selves, "It would stand to reason that you mastered the art." At least, it would have been if he hadn't seemed ever out of his element and determined to claim it for his own. On the outside she could see the bold cob swan swimming serenely by with grace and practiced ease - but beneath the surface of the water he glided across she knew he was frantically kicking and churning to keep hold of that impression. The fact he did it for her... It awarded him a smile. A real one, warm and far from the cartoony gloat she'd given him earlier. It was easy to forget the stone cold hard ass that had sat in her office the first time they'd met, and that left her peaceful and cozy, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind and exposing the fragile fan of an ear. For the first time in her adult life, far from the society where it was the norm, Valeese felt at ease with doing so; vividly revealing the most identifiable trait of her heritage - and she did so without thought or care.

It seemed slightly cliche to think so, and to be fair some part of him did recoil at the overused expression, but her smile lit up the room far more than the candles and low illumination. This was Valeese, he thought as he set the breadcrust down on his plate, chewing slowly, watching her fingers unconsciously brushed the hair back. That clinched it, for him. The gesture was clearly so unconscious that he knew at once that she was at ease, here. And some small part of him was glad to have done her this quiet service. "Well, I can't say that I've mastered the art," he said, shifting slightly in his chair, causing it to momentarily creak in protest and then fall silent. "It just seemed ... right." The bit was said with a slight gesture to nothing in particular, fingers fanning the air, causing the candles to flicker slightly in the sudden waft of air. A more suspicious mind might have jumped to Starfleet Intelligence, he reflected as he eyed the candlelight - there were always rumors out there about agents specially-trained in seduction. But not her. Not Valeese. He didn't know how, but some part of him instinctively knew that she would not jump to that assumption.

The sudden flicker of the disturbed flame caught her attention, and she watched it arch and dance in defiance of the wake he'd created. "A lot of things seem right," She agreed, her voice more a breath than anything else, and her head tilted as she regarded him from beneath a thick rim of crow colored lashes over and above the fire and the flicker of light. The integrity of him shone through, vibrant and healthy, holding his heart out on an invisible platter and she, for a moment, felt like a fool for remaining guarded - even just a little. He'd be there when she finally fell, waiting to catch her and save her the painful landing. Love, whether you believed in it or not, was hard on the knees after all. "You're a good man," The words surprised her as they warmed her lips, stolen from her innermost thoughts - but once said, back pedaling was useless... He deserved that much.

The words jerked his attention away from the candles and towards her, the one good eye not masked by the eyepatch widening ever-so-slightly. He didn't know how to respond for a moment, as he considered himself many things. A 'good man' was not one of them, thought, and some flickering thought in the back of his mind wondered how Valeese would come to think of him if she was to ever know what he had seen and done in the course of his career. There were reasons he had become a ghost: it was not something that happened overnight. He had buried himself away, she had unearthed what had been hidden, and now - "You can spend the night here, if you'd like." The words were unbidden, the desire for her company - in a way more platonic than sexual - ardent. Caught offguard, he furiously backpedaled. "It's not what it sounds like. I'll take the couch. I just - I'm not looking for anything. I just enjoy your company is all."

"Stop." Her head shook and, depositing her napkin beside her empty plate, Valeese held her hands up as she rose from her seat. Valeese could see what looked like momentary panic rising in the iris of his eye, widening the pupil as it regarded her and her every move, every reaction. She could hear it in his voice and the way his heart beat faster and faster in his chest with unbidden fear that he'd just completely fucked up. "Stop, stop stop." She repeated, softly, but firmly. This was her life. She chose who to let in, who to let out. She chose who was allowed to love her, to destroy her, break her beyond repair. She chose who to walk out on and who to stay with until the very end. It was her world, regardless of anyone else’s interpretation of it, and they were her feelings that only she could recognize. Beneath those pretty eyes and the blush and the natural pout that quirked into a smile, there were scars – deep and real – left behind by people she thought she’d loved, the people she let hurt her. Valeese was well aware that she controlled the directions she went in, knowing what was right and what was wrong and she, above all, knew what was best for her… Or nothing at all.

She chose him.

---
To Be Continued...
---

Commander Valeese
Chief Medical Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170