Be my valentine

Posted on Wed Feb 20th, 2019 @ 12:54am by Lieutenant Commander Angus Murphy

Mission: Run Afoul
Location: Patrick's quarters
Timeline: "February 14 2396"
1820 words - 3.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Today was special. Patrick had never really done anything for Valentine's day before, simply because Andrew hadn't felt it was necessary. But with Murphy, somehow it felt important to at least show some kind of gesture. He hadn't made any elaborate plans for today, except for dinner.

He understood Murphy was still busy fixing engineering, but he had the man's promise to come home for dinner tonight. Keeping with doctor's orders not to overtax himself, he hadn't done any heavy lifting and had several devices to do most of the stirring and mixing. The results were still amazing though. So now, with most preparations done, and the entree mostly ready, Patrick was seeing to a little personal vanity while waiting for Murph to come home.

Murphy actually walked in the door ten minutes before he'd promised to be. He walked past the perfectly set table and slipped off his uniform jacket. "Something smells good," he called toward the bedroom. It had been an exhausting day, but he'd been looking forward to dinner and spending a few quiet moments with Patrick.

Peering out, Patrick cast him the brightest of smiles. "You're early," he said happily, emerging while pulling a shirt down over his head. "I've made dinner." His smile widened as he walked forward. "Your favourite dish."

Murph cocked a smile and walked toward Patrick, enveloping him into an embrace. "Mm, my favorite dish, eh?" He kissed him briefly and then smirked again. "I thought that was you."

"Ahh true," Patrick agreed, "but I do mean the edible kind." Taking his hand he pulled him towards the table. "Unless you want to get changed first? Dinner is almost ready to be served. Would you like some wine?"

"I promised the counselor I'd stay away from alcohol for a bit but one glass isn't going kill anyone," Murph said, pulling out a seat for himself. "So what is it? What did you make?"

"First I made tomato soup, and for mains I thought we could have cheese fondue. I made all sorts of snacks to go with it. Dessert is a surprise."

"Fondue? I've heard of it, I think," Murphy sounded curious and interested. He reached for the wine and poured out two glasses. "Did you use home grown tomatoes?" he asked curiously, breaking a smile as he looked up at Pat. "Reminds me of a song my dad taught me about tomatoes."

"Of course they're home grown. Well in that new hydroponics area anyway, but yes they're fresh. And, no skins in the soup." He shuddered at the very idea of having tomato skins in the soup. "What's the song about?" Accepting the wine, he held up the glass as if to toast.

Murph held his glass up with Paddy's. "To what should we toast?" He pursed his lips for a moment and looked into the man's eyes. "To... an imperfectly perfect relationship."

Patrick grinned. "I'll echo that," he answered, taking a sip from his glass. "I better dish up the soup then huh? Want to help me carry the pan? Doc won't allow me to lift heavy things."

"'Course," Murph replied, putting down the glass after he took a sip and then going over to the cook space to retrieve the pan. "Smells good."

"Of course it does," Patrick teased, "I wouldn't be a very good chef if it didn't smell right." He nodded in encouragement. "Go on, have a sip, see if it tastes right for you."

Murph set the pan on the table. "I'll take a sip once you sit down and relax," he chuckled. "Oh, I almost forgot. You asked about the home grown tomato song. It's about home grown tomatoes, of course!" If I had my ukelele here, I would sing it for you."

"You can teach me after dinner." Reaching, Patrick took the spoon and dished up the soup, all without spilling a single drop. "And I'll relax, don't worry. Dinner is all ready, all it needs is serving. All I'm worried about now is whether you'll like it or not. You told me what foods you don't like so I've avoided them." He sat back, watching the man for a moment, smiling encouragingly. "Go on..."

Murphy picked up his wine glass and took another sip before trying the soup. "Mm, yeah, it's good," he said, nodding.

Rolling his eyes, Patrick dug into his own soup. Clearly he was hungry because he finished in what seemed like record time. As if he had skipped all meals of the day just to prepare this one. "you're impossible," he teased, "at least you're not a food critic."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Murphy chuckled for a second, then paused and leveled the spoon at his partner in all seriousness. "I mean... what're your thoughts on the soup? I mean, you're right, I'm not very picky about food. Never have been. It's just... fuel for people. You tell me how I should think about it. Then I'll try."

"Well, what do you think of the taste? What do you taste? Do you find anything different compared to any other soup I've ever made you? Or the replicated stuff you otherwise eat?" Patrick shrugged. "I know what I've put in it, and I know it does taste different from what I usually make. I don't just serve you anything Murph. You mean a lot to me, and therefor I make that bit more of an effort to feed you." He grinned. "Though ideally you come back to me for more than just my food?"

"You think I might be attracted to you only for your cooking?" Murphy laughed. "I've said a thousand times I would be content eating replicator rations." He shook the tension from his shoulders and neck for a moment. "Okay. Give me a second to clear my mind. I have to put on my food critic persona." He closed his eyes for a few seconds.

When the engineer opened his eyes he took another spoonful of the soup, let it wash across his tongue and fill his mouth with subtly nuanced flavors of tomato and herbs and cream.

"Did you use more salt than normal?" Murphy wondered aloud.

Smiling, Patrick shook his head. "No," he answered, "I didn't use more salt. What else do you taste?"

"Is that a... uh... fruity aftertaste I'm getting?"

Patrick nodded. "I added an apple," he explained, "I thought I'd experiment a little. Do you like it or would you rather I leave it out next time?"

"Seems like an odd ingredient," Murphy thought, but then he hadn't seem many recipes in his life. "I guess it just adds sweetness and cuts through the acidity of the tomato." He paused. "Oh. Did that sound like I knew what I was talking about?"

"A little," Patrick grinned at him. "Go on, finish the soup... main's getting cold."

Murph spooned a few more bites, but seemed less enthusiastic as he went. "I don't know," he said, sliding the bowl aside, "Now that I know there's apples in there, I'm not sure I like it as much..."

"Oh..." Seemingly disappointed, Patrick got up to remove the bowls and replace them with two steaming plates, each carried in turn. "I hope this is more to your liking?"

"Oh?" Murph perked up curiously. "What's this?"

"The lasagna I made for us the first time you came over for dinner." He gestured encouragingly. "exactly as I made it then," he added, "no variations, I promise."

"Ohhh," Murphy's smile lit up. "That was amazing food. I remember you quizzed me on what kind of cheese was in there and I said white."

"And you were so right," Patrick smiled back, happy to see his partner smile again. "Though next time I might consider using red cheddar, what do you think?"

Murphy had no idea cheddar came in different colors. "Uh... I say sure, why not." He picked up his fork and tore into the delicate dish. "My mouth is watering. I can already tell it tastes great."

"Well you know what they say about men and love," Patrick chuckled as he carefully tore into his own food, not wanting to burn his mouth - or worse, his stomach- in the process. "And the biggest surprise is yet to come."

Murph put a still piping hot bite into his mouth and chewed delicately. "There's a bigger surprise? For dinner or... after dinner?" he laughed.

Almost choking on the bite he'd just taken, Patrick looked up. "Well I did mean for dinner," he breathed, "but uhm..." His cheeks flushed bright red. "I'm open for anything after," he added slowly.

Murphy smiled and settled into eating his lasagna for awhile. Eventually, he paused, getting full as he neared the end of the serving. "You're a good person, Patrick. I don't know if I deserve you, but I'm happy you're here."

"Don't sell yourself short," Patrick answered as he stacked the plates together, "you deserve to be happy and I'm here for as long as you'll have me. Hopefully that'll be for a long time." He leaned over to caress his cheek. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"I was born ready for dessert," Murphy replied, leaning his head into Patrick's touch a bit.

"Born huh.." Grinning, the younger man disappeared towards his little kitchen for a moment, only to return with two small bowls. "I have left over but this is very rich so I don't think you'll want too much of it. Home made tiramisu, with just a little bit of coffee liquor. Not too much, I promise."

"Tiramisu is one of my favorites," Murph said, centering the bowl in front of him and looking at the intricate layers of pastry lady fingers, delicate creme, coffee, and chocolate dust. "You're just full of surprises today. You're right, though, I don't think I can manage more than a few bites at the moment." He seemed happy and content.

"As it is mine." Patrick settled back at the table, feeling more than content with the moment. "What would you like to do after dinner?" he asked as he carefully spooned up his dessert.

Murphy licked the dessert from his spoon suggestively and gave a light shrug. "I don't know," he wondered.

Considering the statement for a moment, while watching his partner intently, Patrick smiled. "We could go explore?" he offered, equally suggestively.

Murphy slid his chair out and stood up, stepped around the small table and offered Patrick a hand, helping to lift him to his feet. "I hope the doctor has cleared you for activity because exploration can be... daunting," he smirked.

"I'm sure I know my limits," Patrick promised, stepping closer to him. "And if not, we'll know soon enough. One step at the time," he added huskily, "right now I want you to kiss me."



Lieutenant Angus Murphy
Chief Engineer, USS Majestic

Patrick O'Malley
Chef
pnpc Lhaes