[True_Writers: Spice]
OOC: Written with Cylon_prophet. This is an AU!verse prompt response.
Spice
Sam let himself in the front door of his house (weird how they used the door, when they didn't even have a wall in the back) and kicked his shoes off. To the side of the door, thanks to Leoben's rather passively-worded pronouncement of annoyance at that particular habit of Sam's.
Leoben was cooking, as usual. Sam wasn't a bad cook, he was just unimaginative; he'd been a bachelor on Caprica, and ate things out of the freezer most nights unless he went out. (Kara was dangerous in the kitchen if it involved anything other than liquor; Leoben was convinced they'd all starve if they left it up to her), and Sam padded barefoot into the kitchen, shaking out the water in his hair as he did so.
"Still raining?" Leoben asked him, without looking up--Sam hated when he did that, knew things without looking--and stirred something on the stove. It smelled good, whatever it was. Sam had been in two of the schools today, patiently teaching little kids the basics of Pyramid, and then had a grueling practice with the as-yet-unnamed team he was putting together for the newly-formed Earth league. (There were only three teams. It was kind of depressing to think about the well-organized Pyramid league back on the Twelve Colonies, and daunting to think he was going to be somehow responsible for getting something like that started here). He was starving, and needed to shower despite his rainy commute home.
"Yeah," Sam said, shifting the box he was holding, which was covered in plastic. He could feel that strange hum that he always felt around Leoben, some weird sensation that was most noticeable if he'd been gone for a few hours and then found himself back around Leoben again. Which, considering they lived together, happened daily. It was strong when he first came home, but it usually faded after a few hours. Either that, or Sam was beginning to get used to it, which was kind of worrisome. "Hey, I--" he stopped, swallowed hard, and then said in a rush, "I got you something."
Leoben turned around, and Sam saw--as well as felt, which was uncomfortable--the brief flash of surprise on Leoben's face. The other man masked it well, his eyes going to the box and then back to Sam's. "Did you bring me a puppy?" His voice was utterly serious. "It isn't even my birthday."
If there was one thing Sam had learned about Leoben in the last few months, it was that he had a very dry sense of humor. Kara, not known for her appreciation of subtlety, usually missed it. Sam found he actually thought Leoben was funny, when the other man wasn't making him angry or weirdly uncomfortable. "Sorry, man. They were all out of puppies. Do you even have a birthday?" Sam put the sodden cardboard box on the table.
"No. Maybe I should make one up." He peered at the box, but made no move to open it.
"Um," Sam said, trying not to laugh. "You're supposed to open it. It's not something that's going to kill you. That'd be a crappy present."
"That'd be a present Kara would give me," Leoben said seriously, and Sam laughed again. Leoben opened the box and smiled. "Oh. Thank you. Where did you find them?"
"There was a guy selling them at the market," Sam said with a shrug. "I had some cubits I won off of Helo in a pick-up match. I figured I better spend them before he started complaining that I used the Cylon super-strength I don't have to beat him."
Leoben took the bottles out of the box, lining them up on the counter. They were small, glass, with handmade labels. Sam had no idea where the glass had come from. Inside were spices; garlic, some oregano, chili pepper, and rosemary. In war, the simplest of things became luxuries. Sam had picked them up because he knew Leoben liked to cook, and there was only so much you could do with beans and rice before it became boring.
"I heard news that they were going to approve fish for human consumption, soon." Sam paused. "Do you think that means--we can eat it, too, right?"
"I would imagine. Unless there is a specific type of radiation present, which I'm sure they wouldn't approve for human consumption, either."
"You'd like to think," Sam said. The tarp that functioned as their back wall gave a sudden, violent shudder as the wind picked up; some rainwater began seeping in from the sides. Sam went and moved one of the pillows they used for chairs away from the deluge. "We're going to have to fix this. I think the rain is only going to worse, and it's getting colder."
"Yes." Leoben, not a man of many words, took the spices and put them in one of their cabinets. "I worked out a sketch of something that might work. They still don't have anything we could use for drywall, but I have an idea. I'll show you after dinner."
"Okay. I'm going to go change. I'm soaking wet." Sam turned, intending to head back to his bedroom at the back of his house.
"Thank you, Sam."
Sam ran a hand through his hair. He shrugged again, feeling vaguely uncomfortable again. "I'm just glad someone else does the cooking. Figured it wouldn't hurt to keep you happy so you keep doing it."
"That's nice, but don't worry. The thought of eating anything you--or, God forbid, Kara--cook is incentive enough for me to keep doing it."
Sam laughed at that, and headed back to his bedroom. Outside, the rain fell, beating against the house in a slow, steady rhythm. Sam went to change, strangely relaxed, glad to be home and out of the storm.
Spice
Sam let himself in the front door of his house (weird how they used the door, when they didn't even have a wall in the back) and kicked his shoes off. To the side of the door, thanks to Leoben's rather passively-worded pronouncement of annoyance at that particular habit of Sam's.
Leoben was cooking, as usual. Sam wasn't a bad cook, he was just unimaginative; he'd been a bachelor on Caprica, and ate things out of the freezer most nights unless he went out. (Kara was dangerous in the kitchen if it involved anything other than liquor; Leoben was convinced they'd all starve if they left it up to her), and Sam padded barefoot into the kitchen, shaking out the water in his hair as he did so.
"Still raining?" Leoben asked him, without looking up--Sam hated when he did that, knew things without looking--and stirred something on the stove. It smelled good, whatever it was. Sam had been in two of the schools today, patiently teaching little kids the basics of Pyramid, and then had a grueling practice with the as-yet-unnamed team he was putting together for the newly-formed Earth league. (There were only three teams. It was kind of depressing to think about the well-organized Pyramid league back on the Twelve Colonies, and daunting to think he was going to be somehow responsible for getting something like that started here). He was starving, and needed to shower despite his rainy commute home.
"Yeah," Sam said, shifting the box he was holding, which was covered in plastic. He could feel that strange hum that he always felt around Leoben, some weird sensation that was most noticeable if he'd been gone for a few hours and then found himself back around Leoben again. Which, considering they lived together, happened daily. It was strong when he first came home, but it usually faded after a few hours. Either that, or Sam was beginning to get used to it, which was kind of worrisome. "Hey, I--" he stopped, swallowed hard, and then said in a rush, "I got you something."
Leoben turned around, and Sam saw--as well as felt, which was uncomfortable--the brief flash of surprise on Leoben's face. The other man masked it well, his eyes going to the box and then back to Sam's. "Did you bring me a puppy?" His voice was utterly serious. "It isn't even my birthday."
If there was one thing Sam had learned about Leoben in the last few months, it was that he had a very dry sense of humor. Kara, not known for her appreciation of subtlety, usually missed it. Sam found he actually thought Leoben was funny, when the other man wasn't making him angry or weirdly uncomfortable. "Sorry, man. They were all out of puppies. Do you even have a birthday?" Sam put the sodden cardboard box on the table.
"No. Maybe I should make one up." He peered at the box, but made no move to open it.
"Um," Sam said, trying not to laugh. "You're supposed to open it. It's not something that's going to kill you. That'd be a crappy present."
"That'd be a present Kara would give me," Leoben said seriously, and Sam laughed again. Leoben opened the box and smiled. "Oh. Thank you. Where did you find them?"
"There was a guy selling them at the market," Sam said with a shrug. "I had some cubits I won off of Helo in a pick-up match. I figured I better spend them before he started complaining that I used the Cylon super-strength I don't have to beat him."
Leoben took the bottles out of the box, lining them up on the counter. They were small, glass, with handmade labels. Sam had no idea where the glass had come from. Inside were spices; garlic, some oregano, chili pepper, and rosemary. In war, the simplest of things became luxuries. Sam had picked them up because he knew Leoben liked to cook, and there was only so much you could do with beans and rice before it became boring.
"I heard news that they were going to approve fish for human consumption, soon." Sam paused. "Do you think that means--we can eat it, too, right?"
"I would imagine. Unless there is a specific type of radiation present, which I'm sure they wouldn't approve for human consumption, either."
"You'd like to think," Sam said. The tarp that functioned as their back wall gave a sudden, violent shudder as the wind picked up; some rainwater began seeping in from the sides. Sam went and moved one of the pillows they used for chairs away from the deluge. "We're going to have to fix this. I think the rain is only going to worse, and it's getting colder."
"Yes." Leoben, not a man of many words, took the spices and put them in one of their cabinets. "I worked out a sketch of something that might work. They still don't have anything we could use for drywall, but I have an idea. I'll show you after dinner."
"Okay. I'm going to go change. I'm soaking wet." Sam turned, intending to head back to his bedroom at the back of his house.
"Thank you, Sam."
Sam ran a hand through his hair. He shrugged again, feeling vaguely uncomfortable again. "I'm just glad someone else does the cooking. Figured it wouldn't hurt to keep you happy so you keep doing it."
"That's nice, but don't worry. The thought of eating anything you--or, God forbid, Kara--cook is incentive enough for me to keep doing it."
Sam laughed at that, and headed back to his bedroom. Outside, the rain fell, beating against the house in a slow, steady rhythm. Sam went to change, strangely relaxed, glad to be home and out of the storm.