Lacrimosa

[shut_up_wesley]

 Who: Wesley Crusher, Dok, Alucard and James Kirk
What: A few threats are followed through....it doesn't end well
When: October 21st, just after dark
Where: An empty street in town
Rating: R for violence, language and Alucard being a creeper
Status: Closed/Incomplete

Comments

[ridokulous]

"Hey, you're the one that took forever to get ready! We'd of been out of there by six if it weren't for that bouffant of yours," Dok retorted with a good-natured tease, reaching up to act like he was going to mess up his friend's hair and laughing as he was predictably deterred.

"Besides, you know how I am in the baking section of anywhere, much less somewhere as extensive as that place!"

Of course, the moment that he realized it had gotten dark, he made no attempt to even consider anything that wasn't getting them home. Although the fear for himself had long since worn off, he still harbored a notable amount of concern for Wesley.

Still, he couldn't help a smile to note how closely he was walking. Without a second thought, he took the hand that wasn't carrying a few of their bags and inconspicuously slid it against his partner's, linking their fingers together as he looked over with an easy sort of smile. "It's just a couple blocks, alright?" he said kindly, "I'll even make raspberry cocoa when we get home to make it up to you."

Granted, when the chocolate molds were mentioned, he lit up a little more. "Ah, yes! You know, I was thinking -- I could use the colored melting wafers to make a candy corn pattern on the nail, like those popcorn hands in surgical gloves that I showed you last week. It would take a little attention to detail, but I'd love to try it! Ooh, and I wonder if I should make the pretzel sticks from scratch? It's been a while since I've made any of those..." he trailed off, completely casual and thoughtful, despite the fact that he offered a comforting squeeze to Wesley's hand during the silence.

[shut_up_wesley]

"My...what?" Dark brows wrinkled in Dok's direction before he had to instinctively duck and bring a free hand up to ward off the doctor's. "What in the heck is a bouffant?" Cochrane, sometimes...this man... A fond sort warmth glinted in Wes' eyes even as they rolled.

"You said you wanted a few things." The young man reminded his companion. "I think the check out girl was wondering if we'd figure out a way to walk out with the whole isle by the time we got there!" Wes teased back, pausing a moment when he felt Dok's hand slip into his. Were his nerves really that transparent?

The thing was, even as a child Wes had never had any reason to fear the dark, or night--the darkness of space was a beauty and a wonder-- one to be treated with a healthy amount of respect, but not feared. Alucard, however...

"I know...thanks." Getting Dok back on the subject of candy was far more comforting in the long run, grinning at the idea of skeletons with manicured nails and then-- "Wait, wait, you can make pretzels from scratch?" Was there anything Dok couldn't do? "So, all this time we've been buying them, you can make them?"

[ridokulous]

Dok laughed, not only at the adorable display of indignation, but also at the idea that some days, 'bouffant' really would describe his companion's hair. "You know," he said through snickers, trying to make a swoopy gesture around his own head to try to explain it, "That...coif you've got going on," he said with the stupidest and most adorable grin ever.

The comment about the check out girl did nothing to stop his snickering. "Hey, you laugh, but I was trying!" he half-joked, "Besides, you know me! When have I ever come back from a baking aisle in under an hour, even if all I end up with are stencils and food coloring?"

On the subject of fear, Dok was, by nature, a nervous man that had always possessed a surplus. Of course, his wasn't a fear of the dark itself, but rather of what lurked within it. In his years, he'd seen so many terrifying things that existed under the cover of night, and even as confident as he seemed to be after his panic wore away into determination as far as Alucard was concerned, he could never fully leave behind the anxiety that had always been as natural to him as breathing. After all he'd been through, and all of the threats that he still felt were very real (on top of Alucard's comments, Millennium's resurfacing was still a very present worry), it was hard to find himself fully at ease.

Still, the conversation did help, and having Wesley there to keep him smiling was invaluable.

And smile he did, when his partner seemed surprised about the pretzel thing. "Oh, ja. I mean, I haven't in a while, but I don't think it should be too hard to re-learn..." he trailed off, thinking about the ingredients and trying to pull up steps from memory with a vague success. "I'm more familiar with the bigger, doughy kind, but I'd really like to try making the crunchier sticks that these chocolates are supposed to cover..." he said in interest, pulling out the mold with his free hand to read the label. After a moment, he chuckled, "You seriously wouldn't believe how much Major could eat. And of course, as the only halfway decent cook around, guess who was charged with all that," he said in a moment of reflection as he read.

Even though his memories of Millennium were less than fond, a distant sort of smile tugged at him. "Maybe that was one of the few things I appreciated about ending up where I was. Aside from advancing my abilities in technology and biomechanics, I don't think I ever would have known how much I really enjoyed working in a kitchen. I can't even recall considering it before that. Even though the circumstances were nothing short of horrific, it's nice to feel like there was some sort of silver lining, you know?"

And never did that silver lining shine brighter than when he was able to make Wesley happy with something he'd made.

Finally pulling himself from his thoughts, he turned to his friend with that calming smile. "Either way, I'll make some for you when we get home. I think I saw a recipe for cinnamon pretzel bites, too, for a little contrast with the regular ones. They should also go well with the cocoa that I already owe you," he teased lovingly.

[shut_up_wesley]

"Hey, I like my updo, thanks." Wes laughed, feeling himself relax a little as the talking distracted him from his surroundings, made the distance between there and the house seem far less threatening even though they had several blocks to go and it was chilly, so most people were inside somewhere. "Next time maybe they'll have an extra cart set aside just for you, with one of those dainty little 'reserved' signs you see at nice restaurants." The mental image was too much to pass up, it really was.

Hearing Dok talk about his time with Millennium was always hard, because whether the older man knew it or not, Wes' heart broke anew each time. That he was able to find something he enjoyed to retain some part of his sanity Wesley always found amazing, and his hand shifted a little and squeezed tightly for a moment. "But you could have ended up with a private practice and a bakery somewhere in Berlin." Never mind that Dok probably would have been drafted anyway, put behind the front lines with a rifle instead of a scalpel. At least, if Wes remembered his history properly. "Which, I hope you do have one of these days, you deserve it." Maybe that concept was still strange to the older man bu Wes believed it whole heartedly. He just wanted Dok to be happy...and he was certain he would be one day, especially if they were able to get back to the 24th Century.

"Sounds great," Wes said emphatically at the thought of cocoa and homemade pretzels. It wasn't strange anymore, how much their currently living arrangement felt like home, and the young man was glad for it.