Plunder

Posted on Sun Apr 18th, 2021 @ 8:01am by Captain Elijah Rutherford

Mission: A Day In The Life
Location: Patrick's Kitchen
2207 words - 4.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Elijah had just gotten off work and went home to his quarters, helping Jasmine put the kids to bed. She was tired as well and also wanted some time to herself. He had changed to his civilian clothing, looked around for something to snack on, still feeling slightly hungry even after having a good dinner. Their kitchen hadn't been put in as of yet, and the cupboards didn't have something he really wanted to eat. Maybe he'll go fix himself a sandwich or find something else to eat in the other kitchen.

With that in mind, Captain Rutherford set off to go raid the kitchen. His eyes widened at seeing the large kitchen which superseded the size of the kitchen on his former ship. Hmnnn now what can he find to eat here. He started searching though the cupboards and then into the fridge. Ohh something looked good, chocolate Mousse. Ooh and maybe some icecream. He couldn't decide just as of yet. He closed the fridge and went to look to see what else. Hmmnn a sandwich definitely. Pulling out the ingredients.....

Oh no, not again! Patrick groaned to himself. "What is it with people and sneaking into the kitchen!" he called out, drawing instant attention. He grabbed a wooden ladle and waved it in as menacing a manner as he could muster, being a total non-combatant. "Get out!"

Elijah dodged out of the way of the wooden spoon wielding.. "Woah wait a moment!" him going to another spot of the kitchen to put something between the irate man. "I just came in to get something to eat, is that a crime?" Even though the man may not be a combatant there was enough 'weapons' that could be utilized. Elijah was getting ready to dodge if a skillet were thrown at him.

"Yes!" Patrick all but shouted, "no-one gets into my kitchen. No-one touches food unless I serve it. Now get out... get back to that side of the counter..."

"Not until I get MY Sandwich. I'd like to finish making it, if you don't mind." Elijah not having met Patrick as of yet. He looked familiar. And Elijah was feeling slightly hot under the collar. "Just who are you?" he huffed.

"No you're not. This area is restricted," Patrick retorted, pointing his ladle towards the door. "So yes I mind, this is my domain, I'm the chef here." Who did this unknown think who he was? "What's with people not respecting my kitchen lately? Everyone knows not to get in here."

"Everyone? Well, I am not everyone, so I do not know about this rule. And I want to finish my sandwich before the bread gets stale. And I will not be leaving this kitchen until I get it done." feeling hungry and a bit obstinate. Just who does this Chef think he is? Normally Elijah is a bit more cool headed but having a wooden spoon waved at you in a threatening manner can make one a bit cranky.

"I don't care who you are. You're not finishing that, I will do that for you." Patrick pointed his ladle towards the door. "You will wait on the other side of that counter while I fix that for you. No-one touches my equipment, this is my kitchen."

"And that is MY Sandwich. I will finish it" Elijah dodging around Patrick, rather determined to finish making his snack. he reached out to retrieve the makings...

And the wooden ladle connected somewhat soundly with the back of his hand. "Not happening, now get out of my kitchen before I call security." Though normally a very timid man, Patrick's face showed volumes and there was no doubt he was serious about his threat. He moved to block the intruder's path, steeling himself as he was no fighter.

"Yikes!" Elijah pulling his hand away and rubbing it. "Good heavens man, that smarts! " he frowned slightly. "Do you even know how to make my sandwich the way I like it? It has to have my personal touch." he fumed slightly. He didn't budge out of the kitchen but wasn't going to make a grab for the sandwich makings either. "I think we have a stand off in the making here." his eyes narrowing.

"No we're not. I'm a professional chef I'm pretty sure I can make what you want to have." Patrick glared at the intruder, ready to swat again if necessary. "All you had to do was ask, and I would already have made it for you."

"Hmmnn my wife lets me make my own sandwich as I may be picky on just how I want it made. Would you even know my personal taste in how I like my sandwiches?" Elijah glowering.

"Then your wife can make you your sandwiches in your own quarters," Patrick snapped, his patience starting to wear thin, "as I already told you, if you tell me how you like it, then I can make it exactly that. This is my kitchen, and no-one is allowed to use it but me."

"I see." as Elijah started to cool down, "And does that mean even the ship's captain?" his mind still going over the crew listings in his mind. "And what if the Ship's captain wishes to make a sandwich. Or is it a matter of, The captain commands the ship but you are in command of the kitchen?"

"That includes the captain." Patrick gritted his teeth, not sure where this was going. "I'm the captain's chef, I cater for official functions, and I feed the crew. So yes, I command the kitchen."

Finally the inner tumblers of his mind clicked on the proper image and the name of the Chef. "Oh my word. Are you Patrick O'Malley?" feeling stunned, "You sir, are rather formidable in the protection of the kitchen." rubbing the back of his hand once more. "Very well you may fix my sandwich using these ingredients." he then shared with Patrick how he wants it seasoned. "Or... you can challenge my way of sandwich and see if yours matches or exceeds what I can make. And did you have that rule with the former captain of this vessel?"

Patrick just stared at the sudden about-face the man had done, before gesturing for him to move to the other side of the counter already. He listened as the sandwich was described, shaking his head as he noted the desired spices. Once the man had finally moved, he set to work. Within minutes, he had the desired snack put together, though he had changed the odd spice combination and changed the bread to something more healthy and grainy. "Here you go," he finally said, setting a well garnished plate on the counter.

Elijah picked up the sandwich, inspected the bread, it seemed fresh and homemade. "Did you make this bread?" then took a bite of the sandwich, his eyes widening at the flavors that danced on his tongue. He finished that bite and said. "Patrick this is amazing! And I see you will be making certain that I am eating the proper foods, much like Lily Marlow has been after me to do so. She can be such a stickler on what I eat. She was like that on my other ship." he chuckled, then took another bite.

"I make everything fresh," Patrick answered proudly, "some ingredients are replicated by necessity but greens and herbs come from the hydroponics bay, and eggs come from Yeoman Stef's chickens, which roam the arboretum." He paused, studying the man for a moment. "Your other ship?" He then asked carefully. "You know Doctor Marlow?"

"Yes, I do, she was the Assistant Chief Medical Officer on the USS Nighthawk. I was the CO there, until the ship took really heavy damage. I was then flagged to come here, and become the CO of this ship. Commodore Jane Saulitis and I are friends, and well she has in some capacity handed me the keys to the USS Majestic." he stopped and looked at Patrick. "Are you okay?"

Upon the mention of CO, Patrick had gone as white as a sheet and he felt a little faint. He had smacked the commanding officer on his fingers with a wooden spoon! So much for first impressions, especially since he had already chased the man's wife out too! "Fine," he squeaked, breathing fast. Too fast. His fingers went white as he grabbed the edge of the counter to steady himself.

Elijah didn't know if Paddy was going to faint or collapse to the floor, and was quickly to the side of the Chef, putting an steadying arm around his shoulder. "Patrick... I'm sorry, this is just so awkward and messy." definitely really concerned for his Chef. "Lets get you to a seat and I'll get you a glass of water. Please don' t die on me." he muttered mostly to himself. "My wife will kill me if you do. "

"Otherwise Murph might," the chef whispered back, "don't worry... I'm a tough cookie, I've survived worse." he sat in the chair he was directed to and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. "Oh gosh, I hit a captain," he breathed, "that's bad, that's oh so bad..."

Elijah got up and went for some water for Patrick to drink. "Don't worry, you won't go into the brig. Its my fault for not even talking to you earlier, or even telling you who I was. I have been going through so many files where this ship's crew is concerned, I am having difficult time to try to memorize the key people. I'll get there, but it will take time." crouching down to hand the water to Patrick. "Here have a drink of water. And I apologize for what happened."

Sipping the water, Patrick held the glass between his hands. "No, no... I'm sorry. It's just..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Murph built that kitchen into what it is now, and it's all I have. If I don't have that, if I can't spend my time there, without people crowding me by wanting to cook too, I'm nothing. I don't want to have time to wallow about things that'll never be. I'm happy here, I'm happy with Murph. He makes me happy."

Elijah reached out and touched Patrick's hand. "This won't be taken away from you and, you are the heart of the ship, with your cooking. And the great care you give to us all. I want you to be happy, so I will make sure not to invade your space unless invited and not to cook. Is that agreeable?" Elijah asked.

Patrick nodded slowly. "Your wife wants to cook with me on the holodeck.... I told her that's fine." Had she told him she'd been chased out too? "I'm happy to teach people, just... not in here. as long as the crowd is on the other side of that counter, I'm good. I don't like crowds."

Blinks, "You met my wife? She didn't tell me about meeting you and that will be fine I can talk to you on the other side of the counter. I just came in here as I was really worried. " moving his hand from Patrick's, and moving back. "If you are going to be alright I will go back on that side and finish up my sandwich." Elijah smiled. And making his way back to the other side.

"I'm glad you like my version. Yes I met your wife, last night." He bit his lip, keeping himself from saying more. "I do know it's true that a man's love goes through his stomach. Its how I got together with Murph, and it's how I met my late husband. I'm happy, when my food makes people happy."

Elijah nodded. "Well then." lifting his own glass of water towards Patrick. "Hear, Hear! To Patrick O'Malley may his food always be delicious!" giving a smile.

"It will be.." Patrick gave a careful smile, a hint of relief on his face as he tried to stand. "I should get back to my preparations. Is there anything you'd prefer for lunch?"

"Actually, I am going to let you surprise me. I am thinking that what you end up fixing, will be magnificent. Judging by the flavor of this sandwich." Taking another bite. Elijah smiling with his mouth closed while he chewed. When his mouth was clear, he said. "I shall leave you to it, and I am hoping that we will be friends."

"I'd like that," Patrick agreed as he started to clean up the mess that had been made. "What time do you have your lunch? I'll bring it to your ready room."

"12:30 pm is when I have lunch." Elijah stated. "And thank you for the sandwich." looking at Patrick. "It was nice meeting you." lifting a finger to his lips as if to say there won't be anything mentioned about the incident in the kitchen.

Patrick just smiled, his attention already shifting now that disaster had been averted. He gave a short wave, as if to wave the man off, then seemed to shift his attention completely to his meal prep.

End