Brekkie on the Run

Posted on Mon Oct 15th, 2018 @ 4:33pm by Lieutenant Commander Angus Murphy

Mission: Run Afoul
Location: Mess, Kitchen
Timeline: MD1, 1000 hours
1527 words - 3.1 OF Standard Post Measure

Patrick led Murph straight to his kitchen, ignoring the masses of people that were likely waiting for breakfast. He wasn't going to be serving any breakfast this morning, that much was certain.

"I think, we're going to do this a little different today," he told his companion, pulling out a few pots and pans, but never easing up the blinds that separated them from the rest of the mess hall. "How do you usually have your eggs?"

"The replicators make a mean poached egg and avocado, there's no need to put yourself out for me," Murphy smirked, sitting down on a three-legged stool at the end of the counter. "And I missed my run this morning, you know," he mused.

"How about you make me an egg then," Patrick answered, smirking right back at him. "And then I'll come running with you."

"If I'm cooking, then it's definitely the replicator. I don't even know the first thing about cooking unless it involves a hot plasma torch," the red-haired engineer chuckled.

"You didn't think I'd let you run it alone did you?" The younger man teased as he set a flat pan on the stove. "Grab that bowl over there and break four eggs over it. Make sure you don't get any shells in it." He ran Murph through the process as he went to get some butter. Then he handed the man a whisk. "We are going to make scrambled eggs."

"Oh, you're serious," Murphy groaned lightheartedly and stood up to join Patrick in the kitchen proper. Murphy's ability to crack eggs left much to be desired and he spent several frustrating minutes picking bits of shell out of the gellatinous egg mixture. "How do you do this?" he chuckled trying to get another piece with the end of a spoon. As soon as he got close to it, it slid away under the egg whites in the bowl. "I could have ordered it and eaten it already from the rep. Just sayin'."

Patrick shuddered visibly at the very idea. "This is teamwork," he said, picking up two half shells and fishing out the bits of shell from the mix with them. "Now, you do know how to use a whisk, right?" He asked, talking Murphy's hand, putting the whisk into it and showing him how to do it. "Cooking is something you can do together," he added suggestively, "same as I'm sure you have things we can do together?"

"Er... well, changing a seal on an airlock is a two man job," Murphy suggested, laughing. He was clunky with the whisk on his own, but improving.

"Sounds like fun," Patrick teased, nodding in approval. "Pour it in the pan and keep stirring it around until it solidifies," he instructed. "I have fresh bread to go with this," he added. "Do you want bacon?"

Murphy thought for a moment, but shook his head, "I don't think so." He dumped the bowl of mixed eggs into the pan and poked at it with the spatula a bit as it cooked. "Bacon is great, but it sounds a bit heavy. Is this supposed to be getting brown this quickly?"

"Ah..no." Patrick smiled, gently nudging Murph aside to take over. He turned down the heat a little while continuing to stir. "Bacon is heavy yes but it adds that bit of crunch." He put on a second pan and put in a few strips of bacon. "White or brown bread?"

"So many decisions... the replicator never even asks me," he chided back good naturedly as he watched Pat work. "How about brown. Grainy is good. How do you do so much multitasking? It's kind of amazing."

"Probably the same way you do multiple things at once in engineering?" Taking both pans off the heat, Patrick proceeded to cut fresh bread, divided the egg and bacon over two plates. "Cheese?" He asked, giving him an expectant look.

"Uh.. yes. Please." Murphy seemed mesmerized by the whole coordinated effort of prepping, cooking, and plating. It was like a carefully choreographed dance and Patrick was the star at the center. It made him feel like a totally uncoordinated tool, himself, but Patrick was absolutely stunning to watch. He could watch him cook all day. "Well, I don't know that we have anything quite so... carefully managed in stages and steps. Down in engineering, I mean."

Carefully, Patrick sprinkled a handful of grated cheese over the dish then handed Murph one of the plates. "Where would you like to eat, in here or over there in the mess?"

Murphy thought for a moment. "Let's see. In here, all alone with the cute chef, or out there where I have to share your attention with everyone and they'll all want to fight me for my breakfast sandwich. It sounds dangerous out there."

"It is dangerous out there," Patrick smiled, feeling his cheeks heat up at being called cute. He gestured at one of the counters, moving his plate over to it. From some drawer or the other he acquired some utensils and handed a pair over to Murph. "I hope you like it," he mumbled, "and I do prefer being here alone with you over being out there." For more than just the obvious reasons.

"I made you blush," Murphy beamed widely. He took the utensils and laid them next to the plate. "There's nothing here not to like. Bacon, cheese, egg, handmade bread... I feel spoiled."

"You are spoiled," Patrick chuckled, "but I'm happy to do it. Would you like anything to drink?"

Murphy shook his head. "No, but we should eat before it gets cold, though," he said as he picked up a fork and cut off a corner of bread and popped it into his mouth.

They ate their breakfast in silence and afterwards, Patrick dumped his plate in the replimat. "Are you sure you want nothing to drink?" he asked, reaching for a glass to fill it at his tap with water.

"I've got a long morning planned in the tubes. If I drink now, all I'll get done is crawling in and out to use the head a dozen times," Murphy chuckled, pushing his mostly finished plate away from him a bit. He rested his chin on his hand as he leaned forward a bit on his elbow. "Are you ready for the reception tonight for the Avian ambassador?"

"Everything is ready to go," Patrick answered thoughtfully, almost panicking at the thought of possibly forgetting something. "Are you?" He asked in return, while gathering their plates. He went to put them away then returned with a thermos a few seconds later. "Coffee, in case you change your mind. Replicated, because I've not had time to make fresh brew."

"The ship's ready to go. All I have to do is throw on a dress uniform and show up, pretty much," Murphy took the thermos and thanked Pat with a smile. "So, you've figured out what the Avians' favorite foods and drinks are, then?"

"Not really, though I can hardly serve bird's feed..." Patrick shrugged then grinned. "So glad I don't have to dress up..." He smirked. "It'll be special all the same... And I am looking forward to seeing you all dressed up."

"Oh?" Murphy smirked and ran a hand along his uniform collar and neckline. "And you're not dressing up? No little white chef's coat and big fluffy hat or anything?"

"Coat sure, hat no," Patrick chuckled, "and I doubt it'll remain white for long." He shivered as fingers touched the back of his neck, sending a chill down his spine. "My uniform will be far more comfortable than yours."

"I actually don't mind the dress uniform," Murphy commented. "A lot more comfortable than socializing with feathered people. And... those beaks." He gave a shudder. "I don't want to be like that... but birds just... make me really uncomfortable."

"Unless they're on your plate?" Patrick smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Don't worry, there'll be lots of peole, I'm sure they'll find plenty of others to engage with. And you can always flee to the kitchen."

"Well the ones on my plate better not come with feathers and flappy... things," Murph said, shaking his head lightly. "And don't tempt me. The kitchen isn't such a bad place."

"The ones on your plate won't have feathers," Patrick promised, then grinned. "And perhaps I am trying to tempt you," he teased, "I like your company. You make me feel happy."

"This is all still new. Give me some time and I'll mess it up," Murphy laughed and patted Pat's hand before he got up from his seat. "I have a staff meeting in Engineering in fifteen minutes. I hate to eat and run, but." He gave Pat a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks again for breakfast. Maybe this could be a regular thing?"

"Definitely!" the younger man beamed, though he was disappointed at only getting a peck on his cheek for all his efforts. Still, he smiled genuinely enough. "See you at dinner?"

---

Patrick O'Malley
Chef
pnpc Lhaes

Lieutenant Murphy
Chief Engineer
USS Majestic