"Neelix's Secret Ingredient"
Tuvok sat in Voyager's mess hall reviewing the security reports on his PADD. He was not pleased to see the slight increase in reports of the heated tension between the Starfleet and Maquis crewmembers, sometimes so heated they turned from simple arguments and debates into what one could classify as "brawls". Tuvok had heard "through the grapevine"—as humans would say—that someone was causing trouble and spreading rumors that made both the Starfleet and Maquis crew members uneasy about each other. When Voyager had been recently stuck in the Delta Quadrant with the Maquis ship and had been forced to team together to find the fastest and most efficient way home, Tuvok knew his job as Chief of Security could only get more difficult with the mixing of the two crews as well as the two differing political opinions. He noticed that when Starfleet felt one way about something, the Maquis—especially the more argumentative of the group—would choose the other direction, and vice versa. This only caused more problems than were logical, but, for reasons beyond Tuvok's grasp, many people on the ship were unable to see the illogic.
As Tuvok scrolled through the reports on his PADD, he smelled a distinct odor become more prominent behind him. His dark fingers paused, hovering over his PADD, and his nostrils flared in slight disgust and annoyance—emotions which he banished with the thought.
"Mr. Vulcan, you have been reading that PADD for nearly an hour now!" Neelix admonished. "I think it's time for a little break!"
Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the Talaxian's opinion of his dutifulness. "I have many reports to review," Tuvok answered, his voice sounding like he was stating a scientific fact.
Neelix walked over to the other side of the table and sat down. Tuvok tried not to let the clashing colors of Neelix's outfit and apron disturb him.
The Talaxian lightly slapped the gray table surface. "That doesn't mean you can't have just a tiny break, does it, Mr. Vulcan?"
"My name," Tuvok replied with an edge of impatience to his voice, "is Tuvok." There was something about this Delta Quadrant alien that made all his years of discipline in a'rie'mnu—the mastery of emotions—seem to slip away.
"Well, Mr. Vulcan, Kes and I have prepared a delightful little taste-test for you!" Neelix smiled and clasped his hands together. Then, he leaned forward and said, in a mock-low voice, "Whenever you're ready!"
Neelix's proximity—and his strong, alien scent—moving closer to Tuvok's olfactory receptors only made the Vulcan lean back in his chair. He wondered why he had come to review the reports in the mess hallto begin with, instead of being surrounded by the unobtrusive walls of his quarters.
Tuvok decided to take another approach. "I am sorry, Neelix, but I must review these reports before I am called to state their natures to Captain Janeway."
"But," Neelix protested, "surely you know their 'natures' by now! You've been at it for an hour!"
"I do not expect you to understand," Tuvok replied, mentally grasping at his last vestiges of calm.
Neelix paused, and Tuvok dared to hope for a moment the Talaxian would see reason and leave him alone.
But, like usual, Tuvok—when pertaining to the obnoxious alien named Neelix—was wrong. Neelix persisted.
"What is so important that you can't take a small little tiny break?" Neelix was unrelenting.
"That information is classified." Of course, nothing had stamped the reports with anything like the word "classified", but Tuvok had found himself saying so anyway. In a way they were classified, Tuvok reassured himself, because no crewmember would be pleased to know the report they had written was gossip around the ship. Certainly, nothing like gossip had ever really come of something as routine as a report, but Tuvok was sure if Neelix could make him lose his calm so easily, Neelix could make anything as annoying happen.
"Oh, classified. You shouldn't worry about classified. In a ship this far away from home seeing the same people day after day, it will be scuttlebutt in no time!" Neelix smiled, seeming pleased with his little bit of spacefaring knowledge.
Tuvok, of course, was not amused. The words "day after day" were running through his mind.
"So, what do you say, Mr. Vulcan? Will you do a little taste-test? I'm not sure which one is the most authentic and I'm sure Captain Janeway won't mind if you're a little late on your reports."
Just because Tuvok was starting to worry he would lose complete control over himself and leave Neelix passed out on the deck by a Vulcan nerve-pinch, Tuvok muttered, "Alright."
"I'm sorry? I didn't hear you…" Neelix leaned even closer to Tuvok.
"Yes!" Tuvok nearly shouted. Shocked by his near loss of control, Tuvok closed his eyes and regained his grip on his innately violent Vulcan emotions. "Yes," he said, much calmer.
"Oh, goody!" Neelix said, overjoyed, as if he knew all along his prodding and poking at Tuvok would get him what he wanted. Neelix was more childishly persistent than any of Tuvok's children ever were.
As Neelix scurried over to the kitchen, Tuvok sighed and rubbed his head. He knew he wouldn't be coming here to study his reports again any time soon.
At the same time, as Neelix entered the kitchen section of the mess hall—his domain—he rubbed his hands together expectantly.
"What did he say?" the soothing voice of Kes—his beloved Ocampa—asked him. "You two were talking for a long time!"
"Oh, you know that Vulcan, dear! He talks and talks and tries his hardest not to enjoy himself—I would give him my spatula to beat himself with—"
"Neelix!" Kes reprimanded.
"It only seems like what he wants!" Neelix protested. "Anyway, I think I came into Tuvok's life for a reason. He was raised in a culture that doesn't approve of fun—obviously—and I'm here to show him that other realm!"
"So, Neelix, does this mean he wants to try the soups?" Kes was eager to know.
"He said yes!" Neelix picked up a ladle and dipped it into the first pot of the orange liquid. The orange flames danced under the pot, and Neelix noticed the slight form of Kes turn and grab a bowl for him.
"Thank you, my dear," he said to her. When Kes was near him, everything always seemed much better.
Kes grabbed two more bowls as Neelix scooped some of the orange soup into the bowl. Then he grabbed another ladle—just so none of the residue from the other soup got into the next—and scooped some soup from the other pot into another bowl. He did the same with the next pot of soup.
Kes grabbed a bowl of the steaming liquid, grateful that the bowls were engineered so that the heat emanating from the soup wouldn't burn her fingers. Neelix found a tray and placed the other two bowls on it, along with a cool cup of water to wash it down.
Tuvok's Vulcan hearing picked up on the two humanoids nearing him. He set his PADD down and waited patiently for the food. He was determined to get this "taste-test" over with as soon as possible.
"Here, Mr. Vulcan, are the three soups I'd like you to try. Now, I know you thought the soup I made last time was too…what did you say…'piquant'…so I found a recipe in the databanks and knew you would feel less homesick for the Alpha Quadrant if I made the more 'authentic'—if not bland—version for you."
"I am not homesick," Tuvok stated, but his words were drowned out due to the fact that Neelix continued, unfaltering.
"Since I don't have all the perfect ingredients here in the Delta Quadrant I can't make it just like on Vulcan. But I can make them taste just as good! So, here I have three different samples, with slightly different flavors—I won't tell you the 'secret ingredients' before you taste them! You might be biased if I did!—so now you need to test them and tell me which one is closest to the original Plomeek soup!"
Tukov noticed Neelix's eyes grow wide and his hands rub together in anticipation. Kes, beside him, smiled pleasantly, looking equally as excited, but not quite so obnoxious. They both seemed quite eager to give him a "taste of home".
Tuvok stared at the two for a moment, wondering again how he got into this diverting situation, and silently picked up the spoon. He let the scents of the soups fill his nostrils, and, he was unwilling to admit, they all smelled quite good. Tuvok dipped the spoon into the first bowl's contents and then lifted his hand, allowing the thick orange substance in the spoon to cling to the remaining liquid below before breaking and creating a small extension in the soup. Then, he placed the substance into his mouth and let the flavors of home flood his taste buds.
After sampling the other two bowls of Plomeek, Tuvok sat back in his chair. "If you ask my opinion, which I notice you are—" Tuvok observed both Neelix and Kes nod their heads exuberantly at this comment "—I do believe the third soup tastes the most like what one would find in the restaurants and in the homes on Vulcan."
"Oh, good!" Neelix cried. "The kvak amniotic fetal fluid did the trick!"
Tuvok's dark visage blanched at the secret ingredient.
I hope you enjoyed! If you want to know about other stories I've written (I've written lots of other Star Trek stories, too!), take a look at my profile page. I explain everything there! Also, PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks for reading! :)