Mise En Place

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's white-gloved hand was already on her own door latch when she felt Samus looming, extending a hand for her. She gave him a little smile, which became a slightly more pointed expression.

They were always two dancers, each wanting to lead. At times, it was fun to play with that dynamic. Then there were times like this, where they were each wearing their respective uniforms, and carrying on their shoulders what all that represented. Being a Meorrrei meant being acutely aware at all times that appearances matter. That, and despite whatever silver spoon she'd been born with, T'yeellaa was proud that whatever she'd done in service to the Navy, she had done herself.

The K'ohta'rrou carefully wedged her cap onto her head, glanced past Samus to make sure the coast was clear, gave him a covert air kiss, then exited on her side of the vehicle - all business.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Samus couldn't help the barest of smiles that twitched the corners of his lips upward, but he soon enough stowed the ghostly expression while closing the speeder's door. The air kiss sent from the vehicle's other side was at least met with a wink, and the lanky blonde began the short trek around the rear, giving the back end a slight pat so that the driver knew he was free to leave.

"Alright then, K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei," shoulders hitched back and his spine straight, Samus fell into step beside his Cizerack companion.

"How would you feel about a bit of supper, then? I'm sure we can find something here that you'd enjoy."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Doess jit jinvolve ssjittjing jin the djirrt and eatjing from a cauldrron of sscaldjing sspjicjy orrange...sstew?"

Almost as an afterthought, the K'ohta'rrou brushed a hand against her jodhpurs to knock away any real or imagined dirt. She sharply sniffed, deftly passing a handkerchief beneath her nose.

"Mjy ssjinussess wjill be clearr forr weekss."

It took a slightly brisk pace to keep up with Samus's long stride, but T'yeellaa fell into the right cadence.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"I did a little bit of research after you left," there was a devious glint in his eyes as he sent a sideways glance her way.

"Found a little place that does some food I think you'll like, so don't worry."

Samus resisted the urge to pull her close as they walked, and instead settled for stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his duty trousers. As the two officers ascended the entry stairway to the resort that they'd all been scheduled to stay at for the night.

"The nice thing too, is that it's on the grounds, so no more traveling for the evening."

As the pair passed through the large entryway arch and into the open-air lobby, a Twi-Lek bellhop approached.

"K'ohta'rrou, Commander. Your rooms have been prepared, and your luggage transported down. If you would follow me?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"That'ss good. jI'd rratherr sstajy jinssjide the wjirre."

T'yeellaa turned her head slightly towards Samus to concede the point. At the arrival of the bellhop, she arched an eyebrow.

"jIt'ss been a while ssjince ssomeone elsse hass carrjied mjy luggage."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Don't get too used to it," he couldn't help but quietly respond, leaving the 'Kitten' unsaid.

It was teasing, and they both knew it. T'y was so fiercely independent that there were times he felt lucky to get away with some of the doting that he sparingly showered upon her. Sparingly, because he knew that it was all he could really do.

The bellhop led the way, ignoring whatever chatter his charges exchanged.

"We've got your table at Haskakara House ready for you."

Pausing at the top of a grand staircase leading deeper into an extended lobby, he turned to the two.

"Will you both be wanting to be seated now, or do you prefer to visit your rooms first?"


​At that, Samus looked to T'y, allowing her the choice.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"The rroom." She offered immediately, without the ham-handed pretexts and knowing looks of the previous night's awkward rendezvous.

"jI need to frresshen up, and," she slapped at the flared sides of her jodhpurs, a small plume of real or imagined dust coming free, "change pantss."

Quentin Samus Dage didn't lose points for lack of trying. Here they were, in the middle of a crisis in a border system shithole, and he was picking out restaurants like they were back home.

"Worrkjing djinnerr. jI mean jit thjiss tjime. We have a lot of worrk to do beforre tomorrow."

Home. When did she start thinking of Jovan that way?