The Kitchen Scandal!

[Mysthero]

You'd think after five years in cryostasis sleeping in a real bed would be a phenomenal reprieve. But sleep doesn't come easy to those who feel the weight of nightmares and memories refusing to let the mind come to rest. It had been two hours since he first laid down in the empty captain's quarters to try and get his sleep. He laid on his front, his back, both sides. He tried fluffing his pillows, stacking them, he even tried no pillows. Covers, no covers, eventually Draven was staring up at the ceiling when his mouth slowly opened to release a quiet. "Fuck."

This wasn't the first time, insomnia claimed him as a victim but it was the first time he was lightyears from the nearest liquor store. A heavy sigh escaped the captain as he forced himself out of bed and hoisted up his pants to his waistline. No sleep, no alcohol... maybe a small snack would be the answer? The ship has a different feel at night when the daylights are down and only the navigation lights dimly light the corridors. The shirtless captain entered the door leading to the kitchen and started... well... frankly... making a mess.

This was not Draven's first time in the kitchen, in fact, under the right circumstances, he had been known to produce a decent meal or two... but tonight his quest was for something that required a recipe, experience, and finesse.... none of which Draven had. Before long, he was on his third attempt at an apple tart. The first had been burnt beyond recognition, the second, the filling boiled over, and the third was somewhat close to what he was attempting... if it wasn't salty. Draven growled in distress and frustration as he laid out his fourth bowl of flour and tried to bring together his fourth batch of pastry dough.

 

@Harmony Frost

[Harmony Frost]

One thing about being so late in the rotation of shifts during this already five year long expedition is that you have to deal with all the crap left behind by the last guy. Clearly, whoever manned this kitchen before her was not nearly as meticulous and orderly as she was. True, her penchant for tidiness could border on OCD levels but her line of work demanded it. Cooking for a whole crew morning, noon and night required keeping things in order. So once the meeting had been dismissed, that’s immediately what Miranda started working on. Mopping, dusting, re-organizing, separating things and putting things back together, wiping things down, storing, emptying and of course writing everything down once she was done. 

 

Among her checklists, (which she was grateful for the handy digital pad she could dictate all of these things to) was a need to stop by the Hydroponic Gardens. The indoor hydroponic gardens produce fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs using nutrient-rich solutions and controlled environmental conditions, ensuring a sustainable source of organic produce. At least, it should, and Mirage wanted to check with Dr. Ivy to ensure all systems were “go” as it were. Aside from this she many other tasks and things to consider the least of which were: making sure the emergency ration packs were still safe and properly maintained, and keeping track of those handy Biometric Nutritional Analyzers: Biometric scanners capable of analyzing crew members’ nutritional needs and metabolic profiles in real-time, allowing for personalized dietary recommendations and monitoring of dietary trends. Although they really only worked half the time and never when you really needed them to.

 

Needless to say by the time the day ended she was tired. “Once again Mirage, you overdid it,” she muttered to herself as she padded, barefoot to her bed. She had just showered and abandoned her work clothes for a soft, almost silk feeling camisole and cheeky, barely there matching shorts. But after a while in bed she found that she was almost afraid to go to sleep. Too scared that she’d slip into another five year slumber and miss out on all the excitement. It was a childish feeling, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe if she wasn’t so worried about being in the shadow of her great family name, she’d manage to relax. But for now, sleep evaded her. Sighing, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to cure her lack of sleep with some natural remedy. A light, herbal tea would do the trick. 

 

And that’s how she came upon what looked like the aftermath of one of those old baking shows in her kitchen. For a minute she just stood there, frozen between curiosity and irritation. Eventually the first won out and she slinked up beside her captain, placing a careful hand on a flexing bicep. “Hmmm, what are we making? Ahhh Tarte aux Pommes Normande,” she said with a slight accent, but softly. There was some humor in her voice but she didn’t want to tease too much as she could see his frustration. As evidenced by the failed attempts she spotted dashed into the waste bin. “May I?” She offered, “You’ve obviously got the technique down but you’re lacking finesse,” Miranda observed. “Less pressure,” she cooed, covering his fingers with her own, “you still want it to be somewhat crumbly. So don’t over mix.” She guided his hands, her body leaning into his. He could probably smell the almond and vanilla oils she rubbed into her skin after her shower. “Couldn’t sleep?” She guessed, “or were you just really craving this in the middle of the night?”

[Mysthero]

He was just on the cusp of giving up and starting the cleaning process when Miranda took over. She seemed so confidant and sure of herself even as they were both very under dressed for their duties. He may have been shit at baking but he does know how to keep a clean kitchen, as soon as the tarts were in the oven he grabbed rags and started cleaning the station... she may have saved the pastries but it was still his mess to clean. What was that lovely fragrance? It couldn't be the tarts yet, they hadn't even had time to warm, much less cook... oh wait... that's her! Oh that's embarrassing. He must've looked like a weirdo sniffing the air like that, and even more so for not talking when she had not only been so helpful but questioned what he was doing in her kitchen.
"I couldn't sleep. Actually... it's rare when I can sleep. My wife used to make these wonderful apple tarts when I came home from a deployment. She used to say, 'a good pastry made with love can keep any nightmare at bay'." He gave a soft smile before rinsing out some of the bows he used previously. "I... promised I'd stop drinking last year... oh... six years ago now. So I thought I'd try this."

[Harmony Frost]

When he completely abandoned the tart making in favor of cleaning up the mess he’d made, it dawned on Miranda that she might’ve overstepped in multiple ways. She didn’t even think twice about assisting him, or touching him. He must’ve been uncomfortable with her acting so familiar, especially in their state of dress. Or under dress really. She cringed guiltily, not missing how he’d pretty much ignored her words altogether. Damn it, she hadn’t meant to offend him. He was probably the most sane person on the whole team and she’d alienated him with her behavior. Perhaps the subconscious longing for human connection had overshadowed her ability to show restraint and now she’d upset the man.

 

He seemed distracted almost. And as he confessed to his lack of sleep and also alluded to having nightmares she felt even more guilty for acting like she knew him. Assuming a level of comraderie that wasn’t earned. Part of it was due to finding him rather handsome but in light of his revelation about his late wife (who he was clearly still attached to and rightfully so) well, she felt so icky. She just wanted to leave but leaving before the tart was finished felt even more rude. At least he was smiling, it was wrong, she knew, but she felt almost envious of his late wife. She never had anyone who loved her enough to think of her so tenderly. She could practically see the love radiating from her captain. “Ah, I see. She sounds like a very wise and lovely woman. I’m sorry for your loss,” Miranda said softly and solemnly. “Let’s hope this tart comes out a lot better then,” she added, assembling the tart. First the crust, the filling, and then the thinly sliced apples which she arranged to look like little roses. And finally a glaze. She popped it in the oven and set the timer. “Well, I guess I should leave you to it then? I hadn’t meant to disturb your ritual. I really only came to make myself some tea. Chamomile is good for sleeping,” she explained. 

 

Once again she was determined to fade away, hoping he’d forgive her for intruding. She silently grabbed a mug and started preparing her tea, grateful that it wouldn’t take too long for the water to heat up. And then she could leave without causing any further damage. 

[Mysthero]

"Actually... if... if it's alright. Think you can make a pot for two? We could have some tea and share the tart." The sad truth of the matter was he just didn't want to be alone. They were both scantily dressed and he made a mess in her kitchen before she rescued his kitchen disaster, the least he could do was offer to share their spoils with her. While awaiting her answer, he began setting a place for two on the kitchen side table. "Besides, I think the magic doesn't work if it isn't shared." He gave a genuine and tender smile before setting their place and returning to her side. NOW, boiling water thankfully was something he could do without destroying the place! He assisted with putting a kettle of water on to boil and he pushed past her briefly to retrieve the actual tea leaves and a tea infuser and began to fill the infuser with chamomile. "On the bright side, the tea leaves are fresh here... nice to grow our own. Same with the coffee." As he stood beside her, his own unique fragrance could probably be detected, or at the least his body soap he used... bourbon and... maple?

[Harmony Frost]

Just when she thought she was an unwanted nuisance, the captain’s words interrupted her melancholy thoughts. He wanted to share? Miranda tried in vain to fight the smile forming on her lips. “Okay, I suppose one slice couldn’t hurt….” She said softly. She watched him set a place for two, her eyes glued to his frame. It was difficult to separate her genuine concern from the lust that threatened the longer she looked at him. Even without being in cryo sleep for five years it had been a very long time since…..well….anything. And that tender smile he just gave her didn’t help her resolve. He was far too handsome. And since when was he standing so close?! Miranda was standing like a statue now, far too consumed with watching him than actually making the tea. This was punctuated by the fact that he was the one doing most of the work. Helping by putting a kettle of water on to boil and he pushed past her briefly to retrieve the actual tea leaves and a tea infuser and began to fill the infuser with chamomile. “What? Oh uh, yes, I was so excited to see that it was all fresh. Call me a snob, but fresh is better than anything else any day.” 
 

This was said somewhat distractedly as she leaned, unknowingly closer to him. The scent of bourbon and maple mingled nicely with the aroma of the tart as it baked. “Delicious,” she whispered breathily, as she fantasized about a rather different scenario from what was happening. “Er, I mean the tart—-the tart smells delicious,” Miranda covered, jerking and knocking over her empty mug which blessedly hadn’t shattered. Now she was definitely feeling incredibly less like her usually collected self. “Goodness me, my mind is…elsewhere…” she confessed, bending over to fetch her cup and unknowingly giving him quite the show with her barely there clothes. 

[Mysthero]

First the Luanari, now the chef! Was every woman on this vessel selected just to torture him? On that note, he made a mental note to stay away from Doctor Bloom for the time being. Damn if he didn't need a release valve for the pressure he was feeling. Sure enough, his eyes followed her movements and he got a much better view than he bargained for. Thankfully he was still wearing pants! Oh no... that's not going to help. He quickly averted his eyes when he felt a familiar stir in his pants that was very... unprofessional. Cold showers, yup, cold showers, hot coffee, and... locking himself in his quarters for the next year. That was a good plan! No way could that go wrong!
"Looks great... I mean... the tart it's looking great."  Idiot.
Oh thank goodness the kettle started to whistle, taking his attention off her plump offering to him so he could reach over and grab a... *bump*.  And there it was, in that instant of him reaching over Mirage's body to get a pot holder... his growing erection prodded right against her buttocks. In that brief instant, he felt the warmth of a woman's body against him for the first time in years and it made him nearly faint in desire. His eyes lidded briefly before the rational part of his brain tried to steer this crashing bus away from the cliff! "Oh! Excuse me." He attempted to cover aloud before grabbing the pot holder and turning his body away from her while he took the kettle off the burner and quickly put the infuser inside it to help the steeping process. His head swimming with a multitude of thoughts, ranging from her writing a complaint about his behavior... an investigation... being put back in the freezer. But also, what if she liked it? What if she wanted more? Was he ready for that sort of thing? Truthfully he wasn't sure yet.

[Harmony Frost]

Stupid mug! Every time she thought she had a good grip on it, it rolled away a little further. Hence why she was bent over longer than necessary. And by now she realized that her captain was getting an eyeful. But once she finally got a hold of the mug, and she slowly started to stand up straight, she felt. At first Mirage thought she was mistaken, but his apology confirmed it and it sent a warm flush through her body. “Ohhh,” she gasped softly, eyes flirting over to the man who had turned his body away, obviously embarrassed. “It’s quite alright,” she soothed, placing a hand on his back and boldly pressing herself close. “I uh….well I imagine it’s only natural after everything you’ve told me. And well you know, there’s some things that a tart simply can’t solve,” she practically purred, waiting with bated breath to see what he’d do next. 

[Mysthero]

She was right... whatever else he was feeling, he knew one thing for absolutely certain. He didn't want to be alone tonight. How did he end up here? Billions of miles from home and all the pain it held. Even still, it felt so very close too. For the briefest second as their bodies were so close together... in this moment he felt something other than the pangs of guilt and the nightmares were.... quiet.
As she placed her hand on his back, he returned the favor by placing one hand on her hip and pulling her even closer so their hips pressed against one another. He looked into her eyes for a moment before turning towards the oven and turning it off. "They'll keep." He added with a comforting grin as he opted to lean in and press his lips to her neck and wrap both arms around her tightly to finally physcially confirm his desires.

[Harmony Frost]

Was she really about to sleep with Captain Draven? By all accounts this could seem hasty and ill advised. But it wasn’t like she didn’t know him in a sense. Unlike probably most of the others on board, she’d read through almost everyone’s files. Namely anyone she’d be cooking for, as it helped to know people’s cultures and backgrounds in order to make dishes they’d love. It was part of what made Mirage such a great cook. There was so much care, respect and attention put into every meal and her personal approach is what separated her from the pack. So yes, she knew of him, at least the details included in his profile and of course the impression he made this morning had been telling. Miranda could readily understand what kind of man he was based off the way he spoke and his mannerisms alone. 
 

And then tonight…firstly, there was his appearance. Sure, he was handsome, anyone could see that and she was a sucker for eyes like his. But who was she kidding, her eyes had been glued to his muscular body. And he was here shirtless and the late night in the quiet of the ship felt….intimate. But when he revealed the details about his late wife, she knew she was goner. The sensitivity and the hidden depths of this man had her itching to sink her teeth in him. It was a raw desire, coupled with her own reasons for not being able to sleep. And if she could offer him some comfort was that really wrong? 
 

All moral quandary ended with his lips on her neck. Miranda melted into his arms, a soft sigh tumbling from her mouth as she leaned her head, exposing more of her neck for his lips to caress. She hummed contently, her hand sweeping up his back to rake her fingers through the soft hair at his nape. Affectionately she coaxed him away from her throat, seeking to capture his mouth with her own. Tugging on his hair and meeting his gaze with a sexy smirk before leaning forward and planting her lips on his. Both arms circling around his neck as she crushed her soft curves up against the hard planes of his chest. Playfully she nipped at his lips, her tongue teasingly tracing his bottom lip before seeking entry. Not forcefully, but her interest was evident.

[Mysthero]

There was a hunger that grew inside him as their arms wrapped around one another. His mouth opened to lure her tongue in and as soon as she ventured inside his lips closed around the wet muscle playfully as he suckled on it briefly until his mouth opened once more so his tongue could lunge and wrestle against hers.

There was a gentle groan of pleasure from him as he felt her hands rake across him and forced his body onto craving more! He was ready to finally have a proper dessert after such a rough day and Miranda was delicious and sweet. Her care for the crew could be tasted in the coffee, the meals, and her dutiful nature to make sure their needs were taken care of... the fact she offered herself to satiate this need... it was... endearing.

With their lips still sealed against one another his hands moved down to cup both of Moranda's ass cheeks playfully so he could both squeeze and guide her over to the the nearest clean table where he could set her down at the perfect height for his intended plans. The moment she was seated he went right back into leaning into their shared kiss breaking only for just a moment so he could stand upright and untie the knot holding his pajama pants up, the moment he did, gravity did the rest of thr work even with his erection acting as a partial hanger.

Once he was freed he went back to kissing her, leaning in enough so his hardened member would rest against the perfect smooth skin of her thigh.

[Harmony Frost]

He accepted her embrace wholeheartedly, and she moaned as his tongue wrestled with her own. The twisting and caressing of each muscle sending exciting notes of pleasure straight to her core. How long had it been since she was with a man? And not just any man. The strength, character and the vulnerability he showed was far more impressive than much of what she’d ever witnessed in her life. She could see that there were stories in every scar and she could taste the pain laced in every sigh from his lips. But there was joy there and pleasure too. At least she could bring more of that to him. If only for one night. 
 

The possessive, greedy yet playful way he grabbed her ass and squeezed, made her giggle and his intention was clear. Thigh thighs happily wrapped around his waist, eager to be transported wherever her captain preferred. The cool table only amplified the rising temperature between them and Miranda sat back and drank in Draven’s pant removal eagerly. The reveal was not disappointing in the slightest and she squirmed in place, growing wetter at the promising prospect of his size and girth. She bit her lip, only to be coaxed into another lusty liplock. Feeling his member rubbing against her thigh. She broke away slowly, sending him a wink as she removed her camisole and exposed her ample breasts. “You do the rest,” she whispered, laying back on the table, with a cat-like ease and grace. Her legs parted and lifted slightly to ease the removal of her panties. 

Edited Monday at 05:46 AM by Harmony Frost

[Mysthero]

His hands greedily grabbed her ankles as she removed her camisole and exposed herself to him. Every touch of her skin against his, every taste and caress was sending waves of pleasure that made the memories and pain so very distant...

Military counseling, anti-depressants, group talks, grief counseling... and it was this, the touch of someone who needed him and needed him against her. That was what made the nightmares go away and the memories fade... the grief and sadness in his heart lessened and it was just the two of them alone in the galaxy. His hand moved up Miranda's legs letting his very fingertips drag sweetly across her smooth skin until coming into contact with the fabric of her panties. When her hips lifted, he bent at the waist and kissed her belly just above the navel, his beard caressing her skin as he kissed upward between her breasts and he playfully began to kiss and lick at her cleavage just when his hands pulled her panties down. He assisted one leg out of them and then the other.

There was a part of him that wanted to just grab onto her and take her here and now... but... well Draven wanted something more for this moment, to show her this wasn't just about his needs. And he couldn't deny there was a unique poetry to dining on the chef in her kitchen, and even in this lust filled haze the irony was not missed. He lifted Miranda's leg so he could press a kiss against her ankle, then slowly work his lips up her calf, the side of her knee and she could watch as he started to lower himself down to his knees. Those lips moved along her inner thigh until his face came into contact with her hips. His mouth very sweetly circled around her slit teasingly much like a shark circling it's prey... he took in her delicious scent which brought his eyes to a close right as his lips caressed her outer labia. She would feel him kissing her over and over again until his tongue moved past his lips to glide from the bottom of her slit to the top, teasing her entry and clitoris along the way. Another long lick, this time in the opposite direction... stopping only the briefly enter inside and circle her walls to collect and taste her nectar before moving once again. This was repeated a couple times until bother his arms wrapped around her thighs to hold her still and steady himself as his tongue began to explore her depths in earnest, circling her walls and applying gently pressure in search of her most sensitive areas.