Title: S303 Primitive Palate Author: ZenosParadox Rating: G
Summary: RS. Hoshi offers Malcolm something very palatable. Coda to Extinction, Season 3, Episode 3. Mild spoilers
Notes: Written September 24, 2003. Disclaimer: The character names belong to Paramount. Song by the Presidents of the United States. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
PRIMITIVE PALATE
Malcolm Reed collapsed onto his bunk and clutched his abdomen. Phlox had been able to deal with the headache, but his stomach was still bothering him. He needed to eat, yet nothing from the galley had agreed with him. His musings were interrupted when his comm line chimed.
"Reed here," said the Lieutenant, fully expecting to report to duty.
"I've found the solution." The voice belonged to Hoshi Sato.
"Solution? For what exactly?"
"Food, Malcolm. Come on over. I have enough for two."
"I'll be right there."
-----
The two officers sat cross-legged on the floor of Sato's quarters. Hoshi began to lay several bowls in front of them on the towel she was using as a picnic cloth.
"Here, try this. And if you say it's too salty, so help me, I'll feed you some of Phlox' larvae."
Malcolm registered the stern look on the Ensign's face and quietly sipped from the bowl she offered. The broth was perfect. He used the chopsticks to grab the noodles and noticed she had cut the customarily long soba noodles into much shorter segments. Malcolm tried to focus on the flavor and not think of grubs, but the texture of the noodles felt remarkably comforting.
"Not bad," he mumbled. "It's not salty at all."
Hoshi merely grunted and produced her next offering. It was an egg. Malcolm took it in his hand and looked at it suspiciously. "It's not raw, is it?"
"Nope."
"It's not going to be filled with--"
"Trust me. It's soft-boiled so that the yolk and egg white are the right consistency. Watch."
Hoshi took the other egg and tapped the apex of the shell with her spoon. She deftly peeled the shell and scooped out the innards. Malcolm shrugged and mimicked her actions. He liked eggs well enough, but wasn't overly fond of undercooked food.
"How can this taste so delicious?" he asked after he swallowed his first spoonful.
"I don't know. I really don't care for eggs myself. Maybe it's still left over from the virus, but there's something really satisfying about cracking the shell and getting to the goopy stuff." Hoshi's voice held a joyful tone that was almost scary. "Anyway, it's better than maggots."
Malcolm looked up for a moment before he resumed his attack on the soba noodles. "Do you remember anything?"
"Not much, mostly emotions. I remember the strong drive to get to the city, a sense of confusion, loss and fear. I remember feeling angry at T'Pol because she was different."
"No good feelings? I remember a sense of--loyalty, I guess, to you and the Captain."
"I remember feeling like I belonged," said Hoshi, then her face brightened with a grin. "I remember feeling overjoyed when I stole one of the eggs that you found. That's my most vivid memory--but I could do without the image of eating the contents."
Malcolm had a small smile on his face. His mind held brief images of that episode. Mostly he remembered making a decision to let the female have the egg and not to take it from her. He didn't want to dwell too much on what that could mean.
"I see now. Your thievery racked you with guilt so you decided to invite me to share in your bounty so I'll forgive you. I must say the bribe is working."
"Good, but I have one last surprise." Hoshi opened a small black, oval container. "T'Pol gave this to me. Apparently Vulcans are allergic to peaches; they made her arm go all splotchy."
Hoshi tossed a peach to Malcolm as he asked, "How did T'Pol get the peaches?"
"From Trip. T'Pol said he picked them himself in Georgia then had Chef hold them in stasis. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, though."
"They're perfect," said Malcolm as he enjoyed the sweet fruit. He felt the juice dribble down the edge of his mouth, but Hoshi was there immediately with a napkin to dab it away. "Uh, thanks."
Malcolm quickly looked away when a song from his memory surfaced. He began chuckling as he remembered the lyrics.
"What's so funny?" asked Hoshi with a bemused expression.
"My Uncle Archie is a musicologist. He came across this one Twentieth Century lyric that I can just imagine Trip singing. Let me see. How did it go? Ah, yes."
~Millions of peaches, peaches for me. Millions of peaches, peaches for free. Goin' to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches. Goin' to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches...~
-----
As Trip Tucker walked in the corridor, he wondered what kind of side effects his colleagues were still suffering from. He could clearly hear Malcolm and Hoshi singing a song about--peaches?
*****
Author Notes: The song is by the Presidents of the United States in case anyone recognizes it.
Thanks for reading. No reviews are necessary.
Summary: RS. Hoshi offers Malcolm something very palatable. Coda to Extinction, Season 3, Episode 3. Mild spoilers
Notes: Written September 24, 2003. Disclaimer: The character names belong to Paramount. Song by the Presidents of the United States. This fiction was written solely for personal enjoyment.
PRIMITIVE PALATE
Malcolm Reed collapsed onto his bunk and clutched his abdomen. Phlox had been able to deal with the headache, but his stomach was still bothering him. He needed to eat, yet nothing from the galley had agreed with him. His musings were interrupted when his comm line chimed.
"Reed here," said the Lieutenant, fully expecting to report to duty.
"I've found the solution." The voice belonged to Hoshi Sato.
"Solution? For what exactly?"
"Food, Malcolm. Come on over. I have enough for two."
"I'll be right there."
-----
The two officers sat cross-legged on the floor of Sato's quarters. Hoshi began to lay several bowls in front of them on the towel she was using as a picnic cloth.
"Here, try this. And if you say it's too salty, so help me, I'll feed you some of Phlox' larvae."
Malcolm registered the stern look on the Ensign's face and quietly sipped from the bowl she offered. The broth was perfect. He used the chopsticks to grab the noodles and noticed she had cut the customarily long soba noodles into much shorter segments. Malcolm tried to focus on the flavor and not think of grubs, but the texture of the noodles felt remarkably comforting.
"Not bad," he mumbled. "It's not salty at all."
Hoshi merely grunted and produced her next offering. It was an egg. Malcolm took it in his hand and looked at it suspiciously. "It's not raw, is it?"
"Nope."
"It's not going to be filled with--"
"Trust me. It's soft-boiled so that the yolk and egg white are the right consistency. Watch."
Hoshi took the other egg and tapped the apex of the shell with her spoon. She deftly peeled the shell and scooped out the innards. Malcolm shrugged and mimicked her actions. He liked eggs well enough, but wasn't overly fond of undercooked food.
"How can this taste so delicious?" he asked after he swallowed his first spoonful.
"I don't know. I really don't care for eggs myself. Maybe it's still left over from the virus, but there's something really satisfying about cracking the shell and getting to the goopy stuff." Hoshi's voice held a joyful tone that was almost scary. "Anyway, it's better than maggots."
Malcolm looked up for a moment before he resumed his attack on the soba noodles. "Do you remember anything?"
"Not much, mostly emotions. I remember the strong drive to get to the city, a sense of confusion, loss and fear. I remember feeling angry at T'Pol because she was different."
"No good feelings? I remember a sense of--loyalty, I guess, to you and the Captain."
"I remember feeling like I belonged," said Hoshi, then her face brightened with a grin. "I remember feeling overjoyed when I stole one of the eggs that you found. That's my most vivid memory--but I could do without the image of eating the contents."
Malcolm had a small smile on his face. His mind held brief images of that episode. Mostly he remembered making a decision to let the female have the egg and not to take it from her. He didn't want to dwell too much on what that could mean.
"I see now. Your thievery racked you with guilt so you decided to invite me to share in your bounty so I'll forgive you. I must say the bribe is working."
"Good, but I have one last surprise." Hoshi opened a small black, oval container. "T'Pol gave this to me. Apparently Vulcans are allergic to peaches; they made her arm go all splotchy."
Hoshi tossed a peach to Malcolm as he asked, "How did T'Pol get the peaches?"
"From Trip. T'Pol said he picked them himself in Georgia then had Chef hold them in stasis. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, though."
"They're perfect," said Malcolm as he enjoyed the sweet fruit. He felt the juice dribble down the edge of his mouth, but Hoshi was there immediately with a napkin to dab it away. "Uh, thanks."
Malcolm quickly looked away when a song from his memory surfaced. He began chuckling as he remembered the lyrics.
"What's so funny?" asked Hoshi with a bemused expression.
"My Uncle Archie is a musicologist. He came across this one Twentieth Century lyric that I can just imagine Trip singing. Let me see. How did it go? Ah, yes."
~Millions of peaches, peaches for me. Millions of peaches, peaches for free. Goin' to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches. Goin' to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches...~
-----
As Trip Tucker walked in the corridor, he wondered what kind of side effects his colleagues were still suffering from. He could clearly hear Malcolm and Hoshi singing a song about--peaches?
*****
Author Notes: The song is by the Presidents of the United States in case anyone recognizes it.
Thanks for reading. No reviews are necessary.