Rain Check

Posted on Mon Oct 9th, 2023 @ 6:23pm by Cadet Senior Grade René Rouen & Cadet Senior Grade Toareth Darqa

3,568 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: **ARCHIVED** 1 - Cruising through the galaxy
Location: USS Stardancer, Various Locations

René entered his quarters and stripped off his duty jacket. It had been a long watch and he was very much in need of something to eat and just some down time. He was about to just order something from the replicator when his eyes fell upon his Renaissance Faire garb. He gave thought to the other day and remembered Toareth's agreement to meet for dinner sometime after they boarded. A quick check with the computer indicated she was in the CMO's office. He took a seat at his desk and initiated the video messaging system.

The UFP emblem remained displayed for several long seconds before it indicated the other end had made connection. The screen changed to someone's torso. "No. No. That is a tricorder. That, that right there, that is a medical tricorder. Know the difference." The person sat down into a chair and face was that or Toareth. Her hair was a bit disheveled. She brushed some over her ear.

"Sick Bay, Doctor Darq...oh...it's you," she said. "Let me guess, French rapier, circa...1500's was it?"

René gave a hearty chuckle. "1600s. Year of Our Lord 1627 to be exact." He glanced off screen for a moment. His gaze returned to the screen. "I was wondering if you would be free this evening for that rain check. Say a late dinner in the main lounge on deck?"

"Sure," she said. Her image paused briefly as she thought quickly. "I've nothing else that needs doing so..."

"Oh ho, does Toary have a date?" asked a masculine voice. Another human, in an enlisted uniform for work in Sick Bay leaned into the picture. His face was barely halfway visible when Toareth hip checked him and shoved him back out of view.

"Get out of my office, Kez, before you find yourself in the brig. And I want those scalpels calibrated to perfection by the morning."

"Roger wilco madame presidente," said Kez as his voice trailed off and away.
 
"I apologize for that," Toar said in the monitor. "It's...children. My team is made up of children." She took a breath, did not bother brushing any more hair over her ear. "I get done in 90 minutes. I need about another 30 so...be at my quarters in two hours?"

René glanced at the wall chronometer before turning back to Toar's image on the screen. He gave her a friendly smile and nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you about twenty-one hundred hours. Until then, have a good remainder of your shift." Toareth's image gave a single sarcastic laugh and the roll of the eyes as he closed the connection and rose to his feet he was halfway to the fresher when the intruder's words for their conversation finally registered. Was this going to be a date? Did he want it to be a date? Did she? He changed direction and headed to his closet. He spent the next half hour trying to decide what to wear.

TWO HOURS LATER

After a sonic shower Toar stepped out of the lavatory and toward her bed where her clothes were laid out. Just being herself was always so much easier and it was always advisable to be oneself. She was going to have to meet and work with the entire crew at some point as well as make nice with Security. No point in showing herself as anything other than who she really was.

Bardot top, on. With its wide neck, it randomly fell down to expose one of her shoulders. Toar did not care which. The shirt ended just above her navel. She slipped on her black baggy cargo pants. The pants were admittedly pointless as she had no cargo to fill them with. They simply suited her. Next was her boots that seemed almost the type to damage the ground she walked upon. Next, she worked a ringed stud through the piercing in her navel with a small rock of onyx hanging therefrom. Her hair was just as disheveled as before, perfection enough. There was no need to look herself over in the mirror. Toar simply did not care.

What she did care about was that small pinch just behind and above her right eye. "Oh...not now. You couldn't have picked a bet...oh. Ow."

René stopped in front of Toareth's door and took a deep breath. He hoped his attire would be deemed appropriate; white deck shoes, white slacks and a multi color Hawaiian print shirt. He held a bottle of wine in his hand, one from the case his grandfather had sent him earlier that day. He took one more deep breath and put on a friendly smile as he rang the door chime.

Toar was inside, reeling from the sudden onset of another migraine. With one palm against her forehead trying to massage the pain away, her other hand was pressed against the back of a chair as she used it for stability. The pinch in her brain was singing within her ears only with it high pitched squeal. Her right eye was flinching. The door actually had to chime a second time before she decided to just say, "Yes. Enter." She saw the door slide open and, just as her migraine hit at such an inopportune time, it started to mitigate as René was revealed by the door. She still massaged at her forehead but stepped away from the chair she used as a crutch in an attempt to meet him with some form of dignity.

René took a step inside and spotted Toar standing behind a chair in her small sitting area. He took note of her demeanor and immediately grew concerned. He crossed the room to her, setting the bottle down on a tabletop before coming up alongside her. His expression had transformed to one of concern. He half raised a hand to provide assistance, but stopped short of actually touching her. "Are you okay? Would you like me to call Sickbay?"

"No. This will pass. They always do." She stood straight, finally removed her palm from her forehead and took a breath. The singing in her ears faded and the pinch in her brain started going away. "And Sick Bay won't be of use, save for telling me what I already know." She looked at Rene the twitch in her right eye finally gone. "That they do not know what is causing this," she pointed at her own head. "Every 30 hours, on average, I will have one," she explained. "Most are not bad. But they are annoying."

René gestured to the chair she had been standing behind and stepped over to the replicator. "Have a seat and I will get you a glass of water." He faced the replicator. "Water, 12 ounces at 5 degrees centigrade."

Toareth sat, both hesitant in doing so and with a bit of frustration. He wanted to help and Toar was not going to stop him. It was in her experience that men wanted to be useful and wanted to help.

René returned to Toar's side and took a knee next to the chair. He handed her the water. He still looked deeply concerned for her well-being. "Please, tell me what I can do to help." He looked into her eyes.

She took the glass of water and sent a greedy gulp downward. "It has already passed, so...uh..." She looked to him. "I really do not know what you can do," she said in a sunken, hopeless and helpless voice. She looked back at her water; at the beverage he brought. The migraine did not kill her appetite though. "I am hungry."

René gave me her a visual once over. She didn't appear to be suffering any more. He took a moment to appreciate her attire. She had a natural beauty that he realized would only be diminished by fancy attire she would not be comfortable in. He stood up and offered his hand to help her up from her seat. "Well, food would probably be the best thing for you right now then." He gestured to the bottle. "Would you like to take your gift and enjoy some at dinner or leave it here to enjoy later?"

"Gift," she repeated the word and picked up the bottle. She was not expecting a gift and did not have anything for René. She looked at the labelling. "Wine," she spoke as she read. Looking at it more closely. "Synthehol. Looks like not even Security can circumvent the captain's order of no alcohol. At least we can enjoy it and not suffer the side effects."

René watched Toar as she inspected the gift he had brought. He decided not to tell her that it was not Synthehol, but a bottle from his Grand-Pere's vineyard in France. He could always tell her later should the need arise.

Toareth did not want to reveal that she managed to get some alcohol on board. In fact, Security was going to be the last entity she would reveal that to. She stood, making sure her equilibrium was back; that her passing migraine no longer had any effect on her. "I am as ready as I can be."

René gestured to the door. "Ladies first." He was rather hungry himself, but was glad Toar was showing no ill affects from the short episode of discomfort. He fell into step beside her in the corridor. "Mind if I ask what your favorite cuisine is Doctor Darqa?"

For a split second, Toar was afraid he was going to ask after her migraine. She really did not want to explain the whole thing again, complete with having absolutely no knowledge of what causes it. The question he did ask, however, did leave her still without an answer.

First, the important part. "No. Don't call me that," she said. "Toareth or Toar if you like. In an official capacity, sure. Off duty, let's be on first name bases. That is, if you are fine with me calling you René."

René gave Toar a warm smile. It was an effort on his part NOT to take her hand and kiss her knuckles. He did give a nod. "I would be honored that you felt comfortable calling me René Doctor...I mean Toareth. Merci."

And then, for the second part, "And, to be honest, I have actually spent more time in space and in other regions than I have on Earth." She looked at René. "I will let you decide for me. I do have an interest in cheese and spice, if you need a place to start."

René’s was thoughtful for a moment. "French cuisine is not really synonymous with spicy, but the Basque region has a spice, piment d'espelette that you might like. It's not as spicy as Mexican or Italian food, but it may be something that could be of interest to you."

"I think," she began, "I am more interested in trying something new. You can't grow as a person without trying something new. At least that is what I have always been told." They rounded a corner and continued. "I fixed you up when you were stuck with that French rapier, circa 1600. How about you introduce me to something new."

René smiled as they walked to the turbolift. "That is something I believe I can do. You'll have to trust me though."

René was Security. Through her own experience, Toareth never had much trust in Security. "You are Security," she said. "I put my wellbeing into your hands."

René gave Toar a single nod.

TEN MINUTES LATER

René walked up to the table with a large platter loaded with a number of different dishes. He placed the platter on the table and took the chair across from Toar. "These are all dishes that I grew up eating. I uploaded the recipes into the replicator database, but my mother would cook these dishes." He gestured to the various dishes. "We have French onion soup, an appetizer called gougéres which is a sort of cheese puff. I wasn't sure if you had a preference for beef or poultry so I brought beef bourguignon and coq au vin. You said you were fond of cheese, so there's a baked brie puff pastry. There's a side dish called potatoes au grautin. Finally, two dessert dishes, a chocolate souffle and macarons which is a light cookie."

"Oh...um..." and this brought back memories of when Toareth was galivanting about space from place to place. Oftentimes, she would happen upon somewhere without the luxury of replicators, or a tyrant who restricted replicator use. Food, then, had become a premium and none of it was to go to waste. This, that René brought her seemed over the top. It took a second for her to remember that this was all replicated. Anything that remained would go right back into the replicator. "Thank you," she finished. "I, do not know where to start." She gave him a quick smile then used her fork and, at random, sent it forth to lift one of the gougéres.

"What made you decide on a career in Security?" she asked as she mouthed the gougére.

René took a deep breath and pulled out his PADD. He accessed his personal files and brought up his favorite novel, The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas and then handed the PADD to Toar. "This actually."

"Mmm," Toareth hummed her acknowledgement, having actually heard of the tale.

"I have always considered myself a noble warrior of sorts and I often have a penchant for being impulsive like the lead character of D'Artagnon. Since France no longer has a Monarchy. My only real choices were to join the constabulary or become a Starfleet security officer."

"It is good," she started, "to follow your passion." She tried some more of the food, another bite from something else at random. "You would..." she chewed, "find the Qowat Milat of interest I think. I am not sure how you feel about Romulans but the resolve of the Qowat Milat is quite impressive. All of them choose to be there. Any deviation from their path and they are expelled. Discipline," Toareth continued, "Discipline is key to success. I can see you have both interest and discipline."

René gave a light chuckle. "Perhaps, but self discipline is often difficult. I often struggle with it, especially on Tuesdays...," He paused for a moment as he thought back to his visually to Toar earlier and Hospital Corpsman Kez's statement about Toar going on a date. He couldn't resist a small, charming smile. "...or when a beautiful woman is involved."

Toareth was halfway expecting that. More than half the people she had worked with over the decades tried something like that on for size; most after working together for a while with a few on their first or second meeting. It was not that Toar did not like such compliments. Seeing how she was sitting there, in front of René, meant that every previous relationship had ended. She did not blush, but she did look down, shyly, at her food then reconnected with his eyes; producing a similar smile.

"I, too, struggle with self discipline, especially when I can study something new, or when there has been a new medical breakthrough, or when I am about to discover a breakthrough. It is there that I find myself working slometimes 48 or more hours, running simulations, reading results, sometimes testing things out on..." and she stopped herself right there, "...on tissue that I may have lying around for that reason. It's it strange the things that excites us? And to think, when I was but wee high, being a doctors was not even a thought of mine."

René enjoyed seeing Tour smile at his flirtatious comment. It was the first time he had seen her smile and it was pleasant to see. He was about to say something when he saw one of the dishes still untouched. He took a spoon and dipped it into the French onion soup. He extended his arm across the table. "It isn't spicy, but the French onion soup is rich in flavor." The spoon hovered a few centimeters from her lips.

Toareth eyed the hovering spoon and sent that eyes to connect with René's. Her reddish eyes squinted slightly. It appeared that playing nice with Security was working out well. Truth be told, she was rather enjoying this outing but past experience kept her on her toes, especially regarding situations such as this. She remembered the last time someone held a spoon out toward her thus, waiting for her to take that bite.

Opening her mouth, Toar leaned forward and took in that spoonful of soup. "You're right," she said. "It is rich in flavor."

René handed Toar the spoon after she took a bite. He looked her in the eyes trying to read her expression. He was enjoying spending time with her and wanted to spend more. "I heard that some of the other Cadets have converted one of the auxiliary cargo bays into an impromptu nightclub of sorts. Would you...care to check it out with me after dinner? Maybe have a dance or two." He half expected her to decline, though he hoped that would not be the case here.

"Sounds like fun, but," it was a futile hope come to find out, as "I have an early shift tomorrow. The medical officer accompanying us on the cruise is going to inspect my Sick Bay in the morning; my team. I need to ensure everything from the biobeds down to each and every laser scalpel is calibrated to perfection. We spoke earlier about self-discipline. Well this is mine." She placed the spoon down after another dose of the soup. "Thank you for this; for expanding my tastes." Toareth folded her arms on the table before her. "Looks like I, now, am the one who owes you...what was that...a rain check?"

René, if he was disappointed, didn't show it. Instead he gave an understanding nod. "I am on the bridge watchbill tomorrow morning myself." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "You don't owe me anything." He looked at the few leftovers. They had both eaten quite a bit and he was pleased that Toar had at least sampled a little of everything during the meal. "May I escort you back to quarters?"

Toareth gave a few nods and then added, "I'ld like that. You are the head of Security after all. Might as well ensure I get back safely."

René gave a hearty laugh for a moment. He then looked around with mock suspicion before returning his gaze to her. He spoke in a low tone. "Does appear to be a dodgy neighborhood as the folks across the Channel would say."

Toareth understood the joke of the first bit of his statement but missed out on the 'Channel' comment. She smiled all the same and then watched as he started gathering the dishes.

René picked up the platter and returned it to the replicator for recycling. He met Toar at the door. "Lead on milady. I will keep an eye out for hooligans and highwaymen on our return journey to your keep."

Again, she missed out on some of the jargon he utilized but understood the meaning for the most part. "Very well, milord," she said to play along.

René had enjoyed the last hour. The food had been delicious and the company even better. He was only slightly disappointed in having to make it a short night, but she had indicated, what he hoped, was a sincere desire to go dancing in the future. All to soon they arrived at Toareth's quarters. "It has been an honor and pleasure Toar. I hope we can do it again soon. Perhaps I could get use of the galley and actually cook some of your favorite dishes." He smiled at her. "One thing I forgot to mention earlier. The bottle of wine. It is not synthehol. It is from my family's winery. I thought you should know before opening it.

It looked as though Security was able to get alcohol on board, despite the captain's orders. And the Security chief at that. If one rule could be bent, Toar was able to think of a few more that could be bent as well. Perhaps she did have a friend in Security, whom she could rely on to keep a secret, or turn a blind eye, or massage the rules beyond bending them. She did not have to just play nice with him. "You impress me René," she said looking back to him after eyeing the bottle of wine again. Toareth was inside her quarters, René, outside. Both were still in proximity to keep the door slid ajar. "Let's find a night where we are both off the next morning, to take in the nightclub." She took a step back, not enough for the door to close. "And, for the record...French Onion soup." With that, she took one more step back.

René smiled as the door drew shut. He was feeling rather tired himself after two back to back watches and another starting in a little less than 6 hours. He turned and headed down the corridor to his own quarters. It was time to call it a night.

 

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