Scrubbing up in the sonic shower, lathered up with one of her favorite scents on the sponge. The grease of the maintenance bay was gone, and the scent of the aromatherapy natural body scrub melted the brain grease away in parallel to the physical grime. While Arin knew she didn’t have to pitch in, she liked to keep her mechanical skills sharp, and it also reinforced what she always said. “I won’t ask you to do anything I won’t do myself.” 

Rinsing off the sponge, she hung it to dry as she shut off the unit, and shook off her hands before grabbing a towel.  As she was drying her legs, the fingers moved into a position that triggered muscle memory for her. Standing there she used the vanity as an impromptu keyboard, only making the thought dig itself deeper into her brain. 

Quickly toweling off, she put on black cotton panties and, a matching spandex sports bra, then padded out into the main room. Lavender was on the overstuffed denim couch pullout in the main room.  Seemingly lost in her oversized padd, stylus in hand, Arin ignored her and made what appeared to be a beeline for the wooden bar that housed a dozen rare bottles of various things her dad had sent or she had acquired. Pulling out an embedded shelf, Arin turned on the thin keyboard and triggered an upright mini piano hologram to appear around the thin keyboard. “Computer. Sheet music for Al Stewart’s  ‘Year of the Cat’.” 

The first first chords were easy. Arin tripped up a few times before finally getting it right. It felt good to pound the simulated ivory keys. She practiced for a few minutes with the intro before turning to finish getting dressed. Knowing there would be inevitable questions, Arin offered with a louder voice from the closet, “I had to get rid of that earworm. It’s a song I practiced for a long time, a long time ago.”

“Did I know you play Piano?” Lavender asked lazily from her position on the couch, peering around the PADD. The stylus spun between her fingers.

“It isn’t information I part with normally,” Arin said. “Da insisted I play something. Piano got the nod. Too many recitals. Though I find I do enjoy it occasionally when the mood strikes.” Arin said, retrieving long cotton shorts and a short-sleeved sweatshirt.

“Y’know that’s interesting,” Lavender commented chattily, waving her stylus hand freely for emphasis, “ ’cause my Dad insisted I play shut the hell up or I’d get beaten. Or mum would. Happy times…” She gave Arin a sarcastic look and hid behind her überPADD again.

“That is why you won’t hear me sing. Luckily, headphones helped quite a bit during practice. I keep my hand in it enough so skills don’t atrophy.” Arin offered. 

“Computer. Two large coffee mugs empty, a half liter of mixed berry yogurt, and fifty grams of granola.” While the replicator instantly did its job, Arin retrieved a handful of fresh strawberries from one of her plant chambers. Taking care to assemble the tiny trifles, Arin, grabbed two spoons and headed for the couch.

“Oh, is this something else new I haven’t tried?” Lavender asked with interest, her attention once again diverted from her reading.

Arin sighed sarcastically and dramatically, “Unbury your head for a minute. I’d like to see if I can awaken some senses.” She said, taking Lavender’s hand. “Computer, a plate of grape tomatoes, and another of fresh strawberries.” Turning to Lavender she said, “Now. I want you to smell and taste each one. Then follow me in the next room.

Doing so, she took Lavender’s hand. The doors swished open. Five chambers, a one-and-a-half meter high plant with a pentagonal thirty cm base were along the wall. The first four were lit. A few smaller versions sat on a nearby bench growing various herbs. The scents of the growing plants hit Arin’s nose catching, the tomatoes, roses, strawberries, basil, and other plants around the room. She knew it would do the same to Lavender.  “I could plant lavender in one of the remaining chambers.  It would certainly make the front room more pleasant. They are nice to look at when the cycles are on. My father loved Tropicana roses.” She said as she slid one of the panels up. The scent of the roses intensified as the chamber showed over two dozen brilliant orange blooms.

“Now open those two and sample and smell what those should taste like instead of red plastic,” Arin said indicating the two chambers next to them. 

Placing the PADD and stylus on the denim next to her quickly Lavender allowed herself to be peeled from the couch by the arm and with a knowing smirk tried the samples as she was directed.

“You remember what my hobby is, right?” She asked Arin rhetorically as she chewed, following her into the other area with a wistful look back at the Granola. “It’s not like I’ve not tried fresh fruit before. I didn’t know you had all this though…” she commented, observing the array of growing apparatus.

“You’re trying to educate me on what real ingredients taste like. I get it. I don’t get the plastic thing from replicators. What? I don’t!” She exclaimed, seeing the look on Arin’s face. “Replicator patterns are just samey that’s all, you eat the same identical plate time and time again. Real produce adds unpredictability. That’s the advantage for me. I think people saying it’s like plastic is psychosomatic. You think it’s plastic, you taste what you expect.” The doctor folded her arms in an I dare you to challenge me pose.

“Okay. I hear and understand your side of the argument and I agree, conditionally. The slot does a great job on certain things. Green chile cheeseburger? Sure. BLT…the bacon is okay, but that tomato doesn’t take or smell like a tomato. Why would you want to limit the color palette of one of your senses? ” Arin offered. “Walking over to one of the smaller table container, she pulled the panel up, and let the basil perfume the room. Pulling off a couple of leaves, she rubbed them between her fingers, releasing the essential oils as the heat in skin helped it get stronger. She held it up for Lavender to smell.

Getting an idea, she walked to the replicator. “Computer. Make cheese toast out of Italian bread with a mix of mozzarella and parmesan.”  Walking back she sliced and tomatoes, added a few basil leaves and sprinkled salt on top. “Taste that.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I want to limit anything,” Lavender commented as she watched the Orion woman move between the various food sources. “What I’m saying is…” (she took a bite off the offered cheese toast) “…somepimes am nop in ba moob for piffing aboup… oh my gob bat’s amaving…” Lavender rolled her eyes with ecstasy and finished chewing with a few “mmmm”s and swallowed. “This relationship is so making me fat. Sometimes, let’s be honest most of the time, I just can’t be bothered. If I remember to eat it’s in between tasks and I just want nourishment. Y’know being a doctor I’m a bit neurotic when it comes to nutrition. Which reminds me, if you get me addicted to sugar I will kill you.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about gaining any weight,” Arin put a strawberry between her teeth and kissed Lavender as they shared the morsel and each other. After coming up for air, Arin breathlessly added. “So what I am hearing is you want a healthy regiment of activity to counteract any calories.” Lavender snorted.

“Gonna have to be a lot of activity.” 

Lost in the moment, Arin basked in the emotional brain soup, then the furrows wrinkled on her brow. “Waitaminnit. You think I’m fat?” She asked Lavender, pulling back slightly. Lavender gave Arin her most sarcastic look to date.

“Yes. I’d rename you Chungus O’Reilly but apparently you ate the guy who does the legal name changes,” she replied with a withering furrow. “No, of course not,” she continued in more earnest tones, “just that exercise burns a lot less calories than most people think. It’s the whole staying alive part, eating, moving, thinking, breathing that uses most of them. Wow I really have to stop with the boring doctor shit, my edginess factor just dropped a couple of points. Quick, computer, grape juice and Torpedo coolant.”

“The specified beverage is not on file,” the computer responded lamely.

“Shut up.”

Arin chuckled a bit. “Watch and learn grasshopper. Computer. Torpedo juice. Access code. Brave little toaster. “ The replicator took a moment to think and a beverage whirled into existence at the slot. She added, ”I have zero idea why you love to torture yourself, but at least I can help.”  Then she added a smile and said. 

“Or at least point and laugh.” her tone changing she added. “Two of the five parts of this are 180 proof. May God have mercy on your soul.” 

“Well…” Lavender moved to pick up the drink and gave it an experimental sniff, her features the picture of suspicion. “There hasn’t been a food or drink made yet that has beaten me, y’know,” she said arrogantly, looking at Arin over her shoulder. “The question is, given my rank and responsibilities am I stupid enough to drink it?” She sniffed it again. “No, not today at least. If I lose this gig it’ll be because I’m a basket case not because I was dumb enough to be constantly wasted.”

Arin took the beverage and recycled it in the replicator. “Smart and pretty. I picked a good one.” Arin said with a smile. For good measure, she swatted Lavender in the rear playfully walking by. “Computer two mugs hot toddy base. ” Whirling into existence the steaming ceramic mugs were pulled for the slot and Arin retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the counter. Adding a lemon slice to each, the clove and cinnamon mixed in the air with the citrus and hint of alcohol. Arin added an easy shot to each making sure it was properly mixed. She handed one to Lavender.

“Just a wee dram of the devil to set the night right.” Arin said, her brogue thick intentionally. Lavender took the glass and gulping at the hot, sweet, and spicy contents followed in short order. She eyed Arin with playful judgment.

“And after replacing wasted with mild intoxication will you spank me again?” She asked, mischievously.

Arin had also taken several small sips, draining a portion of her own hot beverage. Setting it down, she slowly approached Lavender, accentuating her movements in graceful ease. “Love, it’s not always about you. Though, I think I let out the monster.” She said, now close enough that she indulged in a long sucking nibble on Lavender’s lower lip. Lavender giggled a little but then drew away suddenly, feeling a strong sensation in her stomach.

“Hey, weren’t you making some kind of dessert?” She said. “And what happened to that cheese toast? You’ve opened the floodgates, I’m suddenly realising how hungry I am. And I last ate er… uhhhh… yeah no, no idea. Where’s that fucking cheese toast…?” Lavender pecked Arin on the lips and turned quickly, her eyes scanning the area for the plate. “Aha!” She swiped it up and took a large mouthful, the crisp bread cracking under her molars and filling her ears with a reverberating crunch.

“Yub dubbuo mow I polbu fummib jebub pife. I bubba wum lipa hobe mee bow bepor ba sepf,” she told Arin with quite some self assurance, curling her legs under her on the couch and taking another, smaller bite. “Oh anb replipape me anubber one of deeb pleeve.”

Arin looked over at Lavender in mild annoyance. “If my granny saw you do that, you would have welts on your backside. She didn’t spank, she pinched.” Retrieving a nearby bowl, she grabbed two more slicing tomatoes from the vine and made several crostini on a pizza stone she installed.  Mozza and fresh basil, along with a sprinkle of fresh olive oil. She then waved a plasma torch carefully over the top to caramelize the pieces slightly.  Back for strawberries, she topped some simple angel food cupcakes and added a tiny dusting of sugar for effect.

She pulled up a denim quilt her mother passed on. Soft and well worn, she tossed it to the unused side of the sectional, then moved plates of food to the coffee table. Snapping the release on the table, she pulled the mechanism up and over closer to the couch before settling in next to Lavender.  “Comfy now…or should I tuck you in? Arin said making a face and sticking out her tongue in disdain while smirking.

Lavender had been slightly irked by Arin’s previous comment about singing, feeling she’d rather missed the point, but had let it slide with an internal shrug. The look Arin had given Lavender and the grandma comment though had Lavender irked, and unfortunately ‘tuck you in’ managed to press the big red neurotic button in Lavender’s head. She extricated herself from the couch, shaking her head, taking up a spot on the opposite side of the table and staring at Arin with a mix of incredulity and rage.

“What, you think I’m five, speaking to me like that?” She fired rhetorically, her normally quite appealing features contorted with annoyance. “I don’t give a shit what your grandma would think. At least you had a fucking grandma! Touch my backside I’d punch her in the fucking face and you clearly don’t know me very well or you’d know that,” she spat. This was vintage Lavender. Normally she could hold things together more competently but the P.T.S.D. and the following panic attack had her spooked and very on-edge. All of her pain and torment since her rescue came out and, sadly, was directed at Arin.

“I’m sorry my manners don’t hold up for Miss Pretty-Green-Shamrock of the year twenty three seventy four,” she continued, neither barrel of the gun being spared, “perhaps if my father hadn’t spent so much time being wasted, gambling all our money away on that shithole planet we called home, beating me, beating my mom AND THEN MURDERING HER perhaps he might have been able to teach me how to balance a fucking book on my head and be all presentable and refined so I could tell fun little anecdotes at the Captain’s table over supper and my colleagues in Starfleet wouldn’t look at me like I’m a fucking piece of shit!”

Lavender’s voice descended from almost screaming to a quiet, malicious tone.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you in. I thought you were different but you’re just like the rest of them.”

She scooped up her PADD, walked straight to the door and was gone.