okteiviakom | From One Ship to Another, Port of Fandom, Thursday Morning

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From One Ship to Another, Port of Fandom, Thursday Morning

Three days was too short a time to call a routine a success, right? But here was Octavia, making her way over from the Samsara to the Cape Rouge again this morning, a bag slung over her shoulder. Small breakfast contributions.

She boarded the bigger ship, and headed straight for the galley. "Ha yun," she called, pausing by the entryway to shrug her coat off.

It felt good, to know she was expected.

[ooc: For that guy. And SP!]

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"Ha yun," Duke greeted in return. He was barefoot and -chested, wearing loose cotton pants and one of his shlubby cardigans. "Was just putting on some coffee."

Octavia gave him a faint hum of approval as she hung up her coat and kicked off her boots. It left her in her usual hoodie and (ridiculously expensive designer) leggings.

"Can I request waffles?"

She wasn't going to lead with how she'd brought some things they could maybe put on those.

She was, however, going to cross the distance to him, and slide her hands under his cardigan as she leaned up for a little good morning kiss.

Duke hummed happily into the kiss, then pulled back to give her a smile.

"Waffles sound great to me. You want to grab the flour?"

"Sure," Octavia said. Considered stealing another kiss, but didn't.

Instead, she pulled away slowly, and went and put her bag carefully down on the closest bench, before going to get the flour.

Duke twisted to watch her move, even as he reached for a couple of mugs to pour the coffee into.

This was . . . really nice. The simple domesticity of it, the lack of rush or urgency because they knew they'd be doing it every day. . . . He still missed waking up next to her regularly, but he could understand her needing her own space, especially when she'd never really had it, before. He remembered the first few months after getting the Rouge, after all. How, even when it was still just a rusted out hull with a sleeping bag in it, it had been his in a way nothing else had ever been.

Even finding out his dad had arranged for him to get it couldn't tarnish the memory of that feeling. He liked the idea that she might be getting her own version of it, now.

Octavia missed waking up next to him, too. But just over the past couple of days, she was starting to realize she'd almost missed this even more. These quiet and calm moments before the rest of the world descended upon them.

She got the flour. Then she went ahead and grabbed a bowl, too. While glancing over at him, and asking, "Did you sleep okay?"

Duke shrugged and nodded. "Alright, yeah. Had a weird dream. I was somehow both 30 and in elementary school at the same time. . . ."

"That's the one for young kids, right?" Octavia checked. It wasn't as if she had a great handle on how normal schooling worked.

Nor was it that important. She was already squinting at his pantry again, trying to remember what else went in waffle batter. (He hadn't asked her to. She was giving it a shot anyway.)

"My classmates were all nine year olds, yeah," Duke said, getting out the waffle iron and a mixing bowl and keeping watch on her from the corner of his eye. He was curious to see if she'd find the eggs and salt and things unprompted. "Who were very unimpressed by my long division skills. How was your night?"

Salt went in basically everything, right?

Octavia was grabbing that.

"It was fine," she said. "Uneventful."

(Maybe it was a bad thing she didn't find nightmares worth mentioning, anymore. Not when they hadn't actually driven her out of bed, or anything.)

It was amazing and horrifying what a person could get used to.

"Glad to hear it." Duke accepted the salt with a nod. "Should be some eggs in the fridge," he prompted casually.

And Octavia was going to just very casually open the fridge and get them.

(Eggs, of course, goddammit.)

Hey, there were a lot of ingredients involved in these things! Duke was just going to reach for the vanilla and baking powder himself while she got the eggs. "Should we make some whipped cream, too? For topping?"

"Sure," Octavia said, as she brought the eggs over. "Though I -- I brought some stuff."

What a dumb thing to get a pang of nerves over.

"Think it all goes with whipped cream."

"You did?" Duke flashed her a grin. "What kind of stuff?"

"Gimme a second," Octavia said. She patted his arm as she went past him, to get the bag she'd brought with her.

Duke reached out to gently graze his knuckles against her back as she passed, sipping his coffee with his other hand. Waiting to see what she brought.

(He was like 99.9% sure it was a fruit, yes.)

But Octavia had seen the state of his fridge on just about any given moment, these days: she knew she didn't need to bring fruit.

She brought her bag back, and dug into it to set to a couple of things onto the counter. "So, I got this." A jar of Nutella. "And -- these." A little ziploc bag of mixed, chopped nuts. "I didn't mean for there to be a nut theme, just happened. And this last thing isn't one, and probably doesn't go with whipped cream, but..."

It was an avocado.

(Okay, yeah, there was one fruit.)

"But I read somewhere it could be nice."

And now she was looking up at his face, for his reaction.

Duke was pleasantly surprised by those offerings. "I don't know if avocado goes with whipped cream. I vote we give it a try." He leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "Good choice, gona."

That had no right to feel as good as it did. But Octavia could keep it as her own little secret.

Stole that second kiss this time, though. Muttering, "Mochof."

"De nada." Duke looked over the food. "Let's try a batch with the nutella in the dough, what do you think?"

"If you think it'll work, sure," Octavia said, casually winding her arm around his waist, even as she turned to look over all their ingredients. "I don't know what that does to the batter."

She didn't know what anything did to the batter.

"Waffle batter is pretty sturdy," Duke said, slipping his arm around her in return. "We should be able to swirl it in last minute with no problem."

"Then we should do that," Octavia said. Decided? "What would you like me to do?"

Aside from getting in the way by cozying up to him.

He was very much enjoying her being in the way, though. "Do you want to try making the whipped cream? It's easy, I can show you."

Octavia nodded up at him.

"Tich ai op, jaka."

Duke nodded. He rubbed her back a little, then pointed to the freezer (which fortunately wasn't so far away that they'd have to let go of each other completely). "There's a bowl and a whisk in there. Heavy cream in the fridge. Get those, and I'll grab the sugar."

"Got it," Octavia said, only pulling her arm away from around him because she kind of needed both her hands for this, leaning for the freezer.

"Bowl, whisk."

Then after those were on the counter, the fridge.

"Cream."

"Sugar," Duke said, setting his items down. "And a little bit of vanilla. Pour all the cream into the bowl. Then add the sugar and vanilla, and use the whisk to stir it as fast as you can."

"'As fast as I can'?" Octavia repeated with a little snort. "That's... Okay."

". . . As fast as you can without making a big mess?" Duke said with a grin. "People sometimes use electric mixers for this, you're not going to do it too fast."

"And how do I know it's done?" Octavia asked, grabbing the cream so she could get to pouring. "When it looks... whipped?"

"Pretty much," Duke said. "It'll look like something you put on ice cream instead of stir into coffee."

Snort. "I do neither of those things. But I do know what whipped cream's supposed to look like, more or less."

She was more familiar with the kind that came in cans, but, you know.

Octavia poured the cream into the bowl, and cast another glance at him as she reached for the sugar. "But if you see me doing anything I'm not supposed to, tell me."

"I will," Duke promised. "Won't have to, though."

When he said it was easy, he meant it.

"And will you get started on the batter," Octavia teased, "or are we just having nuts and whipped cream?"

"I'll get started on the batter," Duke promised, picking up one of the eggs without even looking. "Though nuts and whipped cream doesn't sound too bad."

"I think it sounds like a dirty joke."

Well, Lucifer wasn't here and someone had to say it! If with a faint note of distraction - look, watching Duke do his thing in the galley was one of the little luxuries of Octavia's life. Like showers and sunrises.

Even if she had to focus on adding the vanilla, now.

"And I requested the waffles," she said, "so I should stick by that."

Duke barked a laugh. "Luce would be proud," he said. "But yes. Waffles you want and waffles you shall have!"

Octavia snorted, and shook her head. And then looked down at her bowl.

Right, whisking.

At first, it was tentative, just mixing the sugar and the vanilla into the cream, getting a feel for the action. Then, she actually picked up the pace some.

And she was... herself, so yes, she was going to look like she was taking this way too seriously.

And Duke was going to pause beating the eggs for the batter to watch her do that. Taking little things too seriously was one of the things he loved about her (and yet frustrated him endlessly at the same time).

"There you go," he said, pointing. "You're starting to get the 'stiff peaks'. See how it doesn't settle right back down when you stir it anymore?"

It said something about Octavia's focus that he didn't even get a look for 'stiff peaks'. Instead, she paused her whisking to just prod at the cream for a second, just to look at how it'd changed.

She'd done that, she'd made that happen.

All the more reason to get back to it.

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From One Ship to Another, Port of Fandom, Thursday Morning

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