Taking Tea with Troubles

Posted on Wed Apr 8th, 2009 @ 3:33am by Captain Elsie Halliwell

1,439 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Wolves in Sheep's Clothing
Location: Gray's Quarters
Timeline: Current

Yvaine Gray placed down the carpeted bag at the side her "comfy" chair which was placed to the far side of her quarters, underneath a tall, shaded floor lamp. She awkwardly leant back into its frame and the wooden supports underneath the floral patterned upholstery supported her delicate body with a slight creaking. She liked that chair where it was, right in the corner of her little paradise, tucked away under the soft glow of the lamp that rained down its dull light. The large reflective window to her left reflected some of the lamp's light back into her lap, but if she placed her weathered hand upon its glass, she could make out the stars that lay just beyond the hull.

As she dug her hand deep into the bag's glove, she pulled out a neatly tied ball of wool and two ivory knitting needles. Needles that were handed down to her from her grandmother, as, one day, she would hand down to the nearest thing she possessed to such; little Rory. Looping the woolen thread around the cool, circular needle, she began to ferociously work away in the silence of her solitude.

Dr. Catherine Halsey was hardly in any mood to be trifled with. Walking up the corridors at a rapid pace, having been subjected to yet another conversation with the Master Chief about Rowena, she was becoming increasingly edgy about the older officer and the tangled web she had begun to weave. She'd been quite worried about Rowena -- though she'd been informed of the officer's injury and her subsequent return to the Archimedes, she had not yet seen her.

Shaking her head a little, she made her way to Mrs. Gray's quarters. Pausing outside them, she rang the doorchime.

Peering over her half-mooned glasses, Yvaine cocked her head slightly to the right, and coughed a little to clear her throat. She finished looping the tread around her pattern and drove the needles into the bundle of wool, placing both in the bag at her side. Lifting herself out of her chair, she straightened her back and walked over her carpeted flooring, stepping over the Indian rug she had had - since even she could remember – that was spread neatly over the middle.

Tapping haplessly at the panel on her doorframe, she braced her face for a smile to welcome her unknown guest. As the door slid open, the stark expression of her friend, Catherine, was revealed in the darkness of the corridor outside.

"Catherine?" she asked with a concerned tone, "is everything all right?" Stepping back a little to allow the woman to enter, she extended a warm hand to her.

Catherine nodded, although anyone could have really seen that her heart wasn't in it. "Of course, Yvie. Why wouldn't I be? I was just coming by to ask if you might be interested in having a bit of tea?"

"Tea? she replied with a smile and a scoff. "When am I ever not interested in a spot of tea? On one condition, however," she stopped, holding out her hand, palm open, halting Catherine in her tracks, "you sample by Vulcan Prune cake with it. Drink is so dull without eating."

Taking her by the arm, Yvaine smiled warmly, aware of the black cloud that filled her friend's heart. They had not known each other for long in the eyes of the older woman, and in Yvaine's lifetime, she had come to believe that friendship was earned and developed over years of smiles and tears. However, there was something within this Catherine, a warm and tender soul, that allowed Yvaine to gravitate toward her affections almost instantly.

She led Catherine through the main room to her own seat, still warm from her body, and let her fall into its comfort. "Now, I know that they don’t necessarily have prunes on Vulcan," she said, turning away from her to grasp her rarely empty teapot, "but I was told when I acquired them from the botanical lab that they would be the "logical equivalent" to the Earth variety." She chuckled affectionately, but then continued. "I have to admit, I have never been a fan of prunes, myself, but, what my own mother's recipe for cake couldn't do for them, then I have no idea."

Poring out a china cup for her guest, she lifted the hot pot away and then refreshed her own. She floated across the room, her dress wafting after her, and delicately sliced into the brown sponge on the table, placing two slices onto a plate. Walking back over she handed her friend the one in her right hand, and sat down in the free chair opposite.

"Any good?" she asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Catherine's features tightened a little as she sampled the cake -- there was something about the taste that just didn't quite click with her. Swallowing it and chasing it with a mouthful of tea, Catherine paused before saying, "Forgive the pun, but it's not quite...ah, my cup of tea, Yvie."

The older woman narrowed her steely eyes onto her friend, and emphatically raised a questioning and bemused expression. Lifting her own slice to her mouth, she gently placed the sponge into her chasm and tore off a slight nibble. As it disintegrated in her saliva, an tarry and acrid taste slid down her throat. It was at this moment that her own face contorted and the memories of childhood washed though her mind.

"Eurgh…" she managed, swallowing hard. "I apologise so much, my dear, for allowing you to experience that. I can't quite understand what went wrong besides the prunes." She quickly got up from her chair, and collected the plate from her guest, swiftly shelving it on the table and grimacing. "It must be that heat convector," she went on. "I thought it faulty the other day, but forgot to mention it." She almost sniggered, knowing that her defensive excuses betrayed her honesty.

Sitting back down and repeating Catherine's actions of swigging a mouthful of hot tea to clear the taste, she laughed. "I am so sorry."

Halsey smiled, chuckling a little. "Not to worry. It's really not a problem. I've been subject to Rowena's cooking, after all. I swear, when it comes to intelligence and tactics and anything and everything military, the woman's a genius. If you throw a stringed instrument in front of her, ten minutes and she'll be playing concertos. But she could burn water with no effort whatsoever."

Yvaine chuckled and hid her dainty mouth behind her hand. "It's funny, isn’t it?" she said. "How can someone so brilliant at one thing be completely inept at something else?" Regaining her composure, she wiped a solitary tear from her eye and straightened her face. "Uhh…" she meowed. "So, Catherine, my dear, what is troubling you? You haven’t just stopped by knowing that I always have a cup of tea on the go."

Catherine sighed, adjusting her spectacles. She should have known that even a distraction such as this would not keep Yvaine Gray away from the meat of the matter for long. Taking a sip of her tea, she said, "Well...multiple things, I suppose. Originally I thought it was the Commander's injury, but I've known she was fine for days now. I--"

She paused a moment, and said finally. "She never called. Normally if anything happens, she's good about that. Because she knows I'll worry. Even if it's only for a second, she'll take the time for a subspace call. But she didn't. And the reappearance of Alex Harwood...the two of them worked together for five years. Rowena's quite a few things, and has quite a few traits but...monogamy has never been one of them. And I know they were...God, Rowena would always come home and I swear I could smell the scent of her on those dress shirts, not completely covered but...dampened by the smell of cigar smoke and Creed's Royal Water. And I've known that. I went through her luggage once she got back and I swear it was the same scent on her suit."

"Oh, Catherine," she said, leaning over and taking her hand warmly in her own. "I wish there was something I could say, or do for you."

Sighing a little she sipped her tea. "I can't help but think that Rowena's being manipulated and she just doesn't know it yet. And that she ywouldn't listen even if I tried to tell her. I just...don't know."




A Post By:

Dr. Catherine Halsey (PNCP)
Medical Attendant

and

Mrs. Yvaine Gray
Governess

 

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