Break Time! [open]

[vodka]

The mess hall was its usual quiet buzz of activity as the Enterprise crew members loitered around the large open room on their time off, taking the chance to grab a fast bite to eat or to socialize before shuffling back off to their posts or wherever next they were to go on the ship.

Most sat around at the impeccably neat square or long tables provided, both alone or in groups. Some ate. Some chatted and laughed. Some entertained themselves with simple games such as cards.

Ensign Pavel Chekov read. He was alone at one of the small square tables, as he nearly always was. Judging by the plate of barely-picked at chicken and rice by his elbow, he had initially come down to eat. But with his face all but buried in the datapad he held in his hand, it was obvious that the notion of food had been pushed back to the corner of his mind, if not forgotten entirely.

Whatever information the little electronic device held, it was obviously quite engrossing to the young Russian, who would only glance up from it whenever another crew member passed within a close vicinity of his table. His face would have a look of cautious expectancy to it, almost as if he were waiting for someone.

On occasion, he'd smile or nod at the passing person before looking back down. Always he did it with the same brief look of disappointment on his features. The look was not long to last, as he was quick to let his face shift back into the concentration of reading. This was everyday routine for him- eat, read, forget to eat, read some more. Luckily he had yet to become so engrossed in his readings that he'd show up late to his post. That's why always picked his mealtimes after his shifts. If he kept to routine he'd soon pack up, recognize the barely-eaten plate of food as his own, and shuffle it off back to his quarters or dispose of it. But perhaps the routine would be broken today...

[nayari]

The mess hall of the Enterprise, in truth, was no better than high school. Cliques huddled around small tables, nerds ate alone, even races grouped together up and down the long rows. And despite the low-level hum of chatter going on, a small bubble of silence still surrounded Ensign Sarabeth Morini - namely because she was standing there, holding a plate, staring at the window with the stars beyond and most definitely not taking a seat. In fact, she was in the way of a couple of officers who shouldered past her silently, slightly jostling her arms. It wasn't a rude gesture, more of an alert you're in the way - type reaction. Not that it garnered any kind of reaction at all. Sarabeth's dark hair, down from its normal ponytail, simply swung in front of her eyes and made her blink. Otherwise she didn't move at all.

The reasons for her statuesque stance were twofold. One: she truly was a little mesmerized by the starfield wisping by outside as the Enterprise soared gallantly along the warp drive highway. It was a sight she wasn't sure she would ever be tired of, and a sight she silently thanked her best friend for bringing her to every day. Unfortunately, Tiaret wasn't here - she had been placed on the Sargasso, and left with a wink of her antennae and a promise to meet up again someday!

It was probably a good thing Tiaret wasn't here - because the second reason for Sarabeth's stillness was sitting in her normal seat, reading a datapad.

What sort of fate or luck would have it that Tiaret - Sarabeth's rock - would be assigned to another ship, and Pavel Chekov would be assigned to her ship? She'd quietly paid attention to the young Russian for four years at the Academy - and now she ran into him virtually every single day at work! And this time there was no backup to support her whenever she got near him!

Like for example - right now. She could sit down at one of the crowded tables and eat. Or she could sit near his table and eat. Either choice presented great awkwardness for her. Normally, even the sound of his voice would elicit a very inappropriate reaction for a twenty-one-year-old (turning and running...or walking as fast as possible...in the other direction). But the concept of sitting at one of the crowded tables...even one comprised of her fellow security ensigns...just wasn't appealing at the moment.

She began to walk near to his table, aware that the closer she got, the more adrenaline flowed. It got to where she began to feel physically lightheaded and she whirled away and thunked her plate down at the table next to his. She collapsed into the chair and sat completely stiff, trying to will herself to eat.

[vodka]

Of course Chekov was too enthralled in whatever it was that the datapad had to offer to notice that Morini was staring at him and working herself up into a nervous, almost frenzied state. He remained as relaxed as ever, dark blue eyes unblinking as his thumb would occasionally move to rush the little writing along its way, to scroll down to the next chunk of text. And why should he look up? The security girl was not moving within his peripheral vision. She wasn't initiating conversation with him. And so he read on.

Of course, this wouldn't last. As Sarabeth drew near he went through his usual routine of glancing up, the expectantly curious look flashing once again across it. As the older girl whirled away and all but slammed down her plate onto the adjacent table Chekov couldn't help but jump in surprise, dropping the datapad with a noisy clatter. That was certainly unexpected!

Chekov offered a casual glance at the girl as he move to retrieve his dropped datapad. She was sitting stiff, he saw. Was she not well? He knew Morini by sight, though he couldn't ever recall conversing with the girl, even though they had graduated in the same class. He always thought her to be a little odd-- always running or moving off so quickly. Though maybe it was just what she was supposed to be doing with her job? Security officers did have to run all about the ship, after all. Much different than being bridge personnel.

With a half shrug he returned to his reading. This didn't last long, however. With someone sitting in such close proximity to him, Chekov couldn't help but shyly peer up from his reading to watch the older girl. He obviously no idea that the young woman had the feelings she did for him. If he did, it would have probably been HIM that made the bolting for the door instead of the other way around.

The stiff way she was sitting caused him to frown. Again he wondered if she was unwell. Job stress too, maybe? Perhaps she should be seeing Dr McCoy? He struggled with the idea for a moment, but then seemed to make up his mind, as evidenced by the determined expression he donned. Setting down his datapad, he leaned over in his chair far enough to tap on the corner of Sarabeth's table, hoping the action would get her attention.

"Excuse me for interrupting..." His heavily-accented voice was timid, as if he was worried he would break her rigid concentration. "But are you felling okay?"

[nayari]

After a few seconds of absolute inability to move, Sarabeth managed to move her hand to the point where she could get a forkfful of food up and down her throat. She chewed slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the mess hall around her, and beginning to plot out her strategy for looking at Pavel to see if he recognized or was looking at her. In times like these, it was often best to have a game plan. She had seen too many people completely lose their nerve, (or their 'moxie' as the very old saying went), at the point of initiation. Often, people like that would simply sit there, not move, not eat, and panic inside.

Her food tasted awful - like there was nothing in her mouth at all but air. She moved her eyes down to her plate - and realized it was untouched. She had only imagined taking a bite? This was bad. Really bad. You are a Starfleet Security Officer, and a boy four years your junior had frightened you into submission? Pathetic. The voice was more Tiaret's than Sarabeth's but the point in it was clear. She needed to grow up and focus. She was eating. He was eating. He was reading more than eating, but the point was there. All she had to turn was her head, acknowledge him...

He was looking at her.

Well, at least she'd turned her head. She hadn't been imagining that. He was looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern, and his lips were moving. "Excuse me for interrupting..." He sounded so shy! What did he have to be shy about? "But are you felling okay?" His accent danced around his words, but she had heard him enough - she knew what he was trying to say. It had been really funny when he'd been trying to get his authorization code across on the computer. The computer didn't have the hearing nuances a human did, and so he'd had to repeat himself just to get the computer to recognize him!

He was likely awaiting a response. Dimly, it occurred to Sarabeth that this would be the first time either of them had ever spoken to each other. She felt like she should say something epic, important, lasting.

What she said was: "I'm fine, thank you. It's just tension." The words came much more smoothly than she expected, her musical tone floating over them. She felt her face move and realized she was even smiling a little. Clearly, her body knew what to do in this situation, even if her mind didn't!

She looked at his food, untouched, and then at the datapad. "My mother never liked reading at the table, so I used to hide the padd on my lap and pretend to be really lazy." She semi-slouched in the seat to emphasize, revealing a position that would indeed allow for sneaky reading while eating. Her legs and hands trembled slightly with nervousness, but the blinding panic seemed to be subsiding.

[vodka]

Chekov heaved a sigh and let himself flutter to smile, visibly relaxing as Sarabeth replied. He had been tensed up, almost as if he were afraid that she was going to bite his head off for intruding on her and asking the question he did. Girls could be flighty things, he had learned and reasoned, and best to be dealt with cautiously!

"Oh. I understand." He nodded sympathetically at the reply/excuse of tension, automatically thinking it to be work-related. Work as a security officer must be difficult and stressful. Maybe she'd gone off a bad shift? Perhaps it would not be best to press on the matter. If she was as tense as she already was, he'd certainly be no help to fix that matter.

And yet, he watched her relax as she smiled, offering advice at hiding the padd from peering eyes. Girls could be so odd, he mused, not for the first time. He couldn't help but return the smile briefly, though his face was quick to reflect his curiosity afterward. he never was good at hiding what was on his mind.

"You had to hide your padd to be reading it?" From Chekov's background, where he had been pushed and pushed to learn everything that would stick in his mind, the idea of having to hide reading materials was... well, odd. No, not odd. Downright weird was what it was. "It is a good trick though," he added, sounding almost hasty to tack the compliment on so as not to seem rude. "Whery handy if you need be hiding something small..."

[nayari]

He seemed genuinely surprised that she would have to hide a reading padd, which really made sense to her. Seventeen years old and chief navigator on a starship? Chances were he'd never have had to stop reading at the table. She found herself a little bit jealous of that fact, and a smile, this time much more honest and open, crossed her face. Maybe - all she'd had to do was just talk to him. She still heard a faint humming in her ears, a panicking scream that told her to run in the opposite direction as fast as possible. Her head spun a little bit and she wasn't entirely aware of her surroundings. But she was fighting down the panic and discovering that all she had to do - for right now - was talk. He was responding, which suggested that she wasn't bothering him. And what was more - he smiled at her, ever so briefly, before his eyes returned to their curious state and he looked very much like a cat. The romantic part of her let out a sigh, and her brain quickly moved to regain control.

"It didn't always work." She felt the smile as she talked. "Mum caught me almost 80% of the time. 'Sarabeth, stop reading at the table!' " She paused and thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I was usually reading fiction. It wasn't until I got older that I started reading, you know, textbooks and language manuals and the like. But I bet you read all the time at home, right?" She was babbling now. Babbling and she couldn't stop herself. "I mean, nonfiction things and philosophical things and - well you're really smart and at the Academy you were always reading or doing homework. I don't think I ever saw you at the bar, though mayb you went..."

She paused in horror as she realized what she was saying. Her cheeks flushed a deep red and she looked away, hastily slipping a forkful of food into her mouth. She couldn't believe she had let herself go like that. And the conversation had been going so well!

[vodka]

At first, Chekov merely bobbed his head pleasantly to indicate he was listening to Morini's chatter. He even laughed a little as she did the imitation of her mother. For one who seemed to tend to shy away from people and conversation, Chekov certainly seemed relaxed at the moment. Perhaps the idea of simple conversation had begun to appeal to him, particularly since there was only so much to do on the ship. But Morini's inquiries about reading and display of sneaking the padd had certainly seemed to catch his interest.

"Oh?" came the simple inquiry when Morini mentioned mostly reading fiction. He hadn't forayed far into the field himself. Like she guessed, and... oh wow. As she rambled on about him he blinked, his smile falling. Now he may or may not have been wrong, but this was sounded like she'd been watching him back at the academy. A lot. Or... watching for him? That didn't make much sense.

Regardless, he retreated back into his chair slightly, trying and failing to maintain the smile that had been plastered on his face. His cheeks too were tinged red- most likely from the comment about how smart he supposedly was. That part was a simple reaction, which occurred pretty much whenever praise was heaped upon him. He stared at her in surprise, trying to figure out why she would be watching and keeping an eye out for him. Of course, the idea of a crush failed to connect.

"Errr...." he tried to find the words to reply. "...no. I mean! Yes! I..." he paused with a huff, trying to sort out the words and responses. "No I no go to bar." His studying habits were no secret, though. "I was too busy study, like you said."

He let his gaze drop, trying to find something to fill up the awkward moment that had fallen over the two. In ding so, his gaze fell upon his barely-picked at food. He blinked. Oh yeah, he was supposed to be here eating wasn't he? He wasn't too hungry, though.

Then a thought struck him to possibly return the conversation. "Besides! Bars would kick me out faster than I would be able to blink. You know?" Okay, so it was a terrible attempt, but it was something, at least...

[nayari]

Sarabeth groaned very softly as Chekov shrank back in the chair, his eyes growing wary and his handsome face flushing deeply. Instantly uncomfortable with a twist of confusion. Sarabeth visibly flinched, closing her eyes and biting her lip, wondering just how she was going to get out of this situation without embarrassing the young man - or herself - further.

To her relief, Chekov himself swung them out of it, answering one of her comments about the bar and then making a joke on top of it! Trying to return with compliment that didn't sound quite so stalkerish, Sarabeth smiled and replied: "They'd throw you out only if they checked your I.D. I think you act really mature for a seventeen year old boy....young man..." She trailed off. Well it wasn't creepy, but now she sounded like she was patronizing him! Her stomach twisted and her hands trembled slightly. She could feel her mind slipping to an edge of panic, and she quickly took a bite of food in an effort to relax. It's not that big a deal. Keep talking. Change the subject.

She wasn't sure what to change the subject to, however. Her frightened mind was trying to shut down and back off from the conversation completely. It took a lot of willpower, in fact, to not pick up her tray and get out of there. But she also knew that the response that would garner from him would not be positive. Worse, he might see it as offensive. And she didn't want to offend him.

So she went with the one option that seemed to present itself in a clear light. "I'm sorry, Chekov. I went and made life awkward, didn't I? Let's try this again." She held out her hand and put on a warm smile. "Hi. Sarabeth Morini, Beth to my friends. I think I recognize you from Starfleet Academy. What's your name?"

Start the conversation over. Good idea, hopefully.