Oh Four-Hundred
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Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, I wouldn't be writing fanfictions. I was inspired by another story with a similar prompt.
Author's Note: Akaan'ade's choice of wardrobe was based on a true story. On Taris, I didn't wanna get his bright white pants in the mystery water, so he was in his underwear most of the time. Rather comical when reporting to Garza...
P.S. By the way, this was written at "Oh Four-Hundred." :P
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Elara Dorne couldn't sleep.
She tossed and turned, counted to the thousands; she even tried just laying there, but her mind wouldn't turn off.
It seemed that her mind wasn't even half as good at obeying orders as her body was.
Elara got up out of bed, taking a moment to straighten her blankets out.
Once the blankets were nice and tidy, she left the medbay.
As weird as it sounded, Elara Dorne slept in that medbay; it had two beds, and kept her away from the insanity that Jorgan and Akaan'ade could cause when they were together.
As she wandered the ship, she spotted a lone light.
It was coming from the galley.
She followed the light, and no sooner than she took a step in the galley, she saw an interesting sight.
Akaan'ade was standing there, bowl in one hand, spoon in another, mixing wildly.
But that wasn't the weirdest part.
He was only wearing his underwear.
"Leftenent…?" she called out cautiously, unsure what to make of this.
He looked up, taking the spoon out of the bowl to give a wave. "Hey, Elara."
"Leftenent?" she repeated.
"Elara…? Can I ask you something?" he inquired, putting the spoon back into the bowl.
"I guess you can, Leftenent," she answered.
"What are you doing up this late?" he asked, giving her a curious look.
"I would like to ask you the same," Elara stated.
"Nope. I asked first. You answer then I will," he smiled rather childishly, waving the spoon once again.
"Sir- it's oh four-hundred."
"You, know, Elara, people are usually asleep by now."
"I couldn't sleep so I decided to take a walk," she honestly answered. "Now can I ask what you're doing?"
"Ask away!"
Elara just looked at him. Then she repeated her question. "Leftenent, what are you doing up this late?"
"Making pudding," he answered, emphasizing the syllables.
"In your underwear?"
"No, Elara, that's gross, I make pudding in a bowl," he said, tilting the bowl so she saw.
"Leftenent- that's not what I meant. Why aren't you wearing clothes?"
"I'm wearing my underwear," he answered, giving the pudding another wild stir, sending some plopping onto the floor.
Elara sighed. "Why don't you have any other clothes on?" she specified.
"I make a mean pudding," he explained. "It always gets everywhere."
"Maybe because you stir it too crazily," she offered gently.
"Don't be silly, Elara," he said. "The pudding is built for this."
"Lef-"
"Hush- do you smell that? I can see the future," Akaan'ade blurted, taking the spoon out of the bowl to flick his wrist.
"Let me clean this up," Elara suggested, moving to grab a towel.
"No-no-no-no! Elara- wait! I can handle this!" Akaan'ade practically yelled, holding his hand out to halt her.
She froze at his unexpected reaction, when she should have always expected the unexpected, especially with Akaan'ade.
"I got this," he stated coolly, reaching out to hit the fire alarm.
He smiled and nodded as the alarm blared throughout the ship.
Moments later, Jorgan burst through the door, clad in his night robe and slippers.
"What is going on in here," Jorgan yelled as his wide, feline eyes searched the room.
"I spilled pudding," Akaan'ade answered as he turned off the alarm. "And I want you to clean it up, Jorgie."
Jorgan rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath.
Elara turned away. "Excuse me, sirs, but I am going back to bed."
Elara never did fall asleep.
The End