Two Strangers

Posted on Sat Sep 18th, 2021 @ 7:11am by Alden Loxley & Kindra Graham

Mission: Back in Black
Location: En route to Ghost
Timeline: Day 27 - Before the 'Reckoner' Trilogy of JPs

Behind him and around them, the sights, sounds and smells of everyone else aboard the currently mostly full Firefly gave Alden a certain sense of comfort in their company. He'd been a little... unsettled? anxious? uncertain? Hell, it was difficult to pin down one emotion when it came to Kindra. But yes, he'd definitely been avoiding any solitary encounters with that complicated blast from his past. Which was odd, and yet understandable as well as being something he didn't plan to try and explain to anyone else, especially himself.

So, as he could hear James' shower vocals picking up Echo's echoes and Alison and Jonas engaging in some kinda of mutual activity down in the cargo bay, Alden welcomed the definite sound of occupation within their little ship as Kindra wandered into the galley.

"Hey," he said, a bright smile taking up genuine but temporary residence on his features. That gesture hid a multitude, but Alden felt safe enough to engage right now. "Want to help me bake some cupcakes?" He'd needed chocolate, and there was a multitude of the different versions of the stuff in a mess all across the galley counter. "Three days into the trip figured we could all use some comfort food while we still got supplies."

Kindra hesitated at the galley's threshold, at long last she'd caught Alden alone. Baking, of all things. Not really a surprise, though. It was so like the Alden she'd known to nurture others, especially his crew. She had certainly experienced his tender care during their short time together.

There was much unsaid between them, and she should ask for that long-delayed talk. But she was not quite ready to let go of the tiny piece of hope she'd kept wrapped in the comfort of not-knowing. This was an opportunity to simply enjoy Alden's company, and Kindra could not pass it up. "I'd love to help you make cupcakes."

Kindra surveyed the ingredients and implements Alden had assembled so far and wondered if he remembered that when they first met, he'd offered to teach her how to cook. "I've learned to bake a little, since uh…" She glanced up at him uncertainly. Did he still have feelings for her? Did he ever, or had she only imagined? "I got my stepmother's cook to teach me how to make Anpan. Luckily for me, she's a patient woman. But cupcakes… you may have to tell me what to do."

He didn't consider the hesitation on her part, not try to second-guess anything going on in the Companion's mind, right now, here in his galley, Alden was all about the food. He offered up a big dumb grin at Kindra's quick affirmative on the helping and took that as permission to relax into the moment.

"So you don't need any schooling from me then?" Alden teased, noting that conflicted expression on her face. "Or you do?" The humour hid an internal memory of that first meeting and the red-paste rolls on someone else's bridge. Good times. Times before all the drama. He filed that away and opted once again to live in the moment. "Well," Alden said, with a seriousness underladen with an easy amused confidence in his own ability. "I've never been accused of having too much patience, but I could teach anyone to make cupcakes. Even James can handle these."

The Echo's big mixing bowl was clean and ready to go and Alden handed it and a big wooden spoon to Kindra. "We're doing this the hard way today," he said. "Personal touch is everything." That oblivious smile pushed on through as he dumped the already measured sugar and butter into the bowl. "First up, mix these into each other."

"Hard way... personal touch. You sound like my mentor at Madrassa," she said, with a playful lift of an eyebrow. Yes, she still wanted schooling from him. Kindra recalled how Alden had taught her to fly an old shuttle on another transport ship. His hands on hers, pressed close... "Well, if even James can handle cupcakes, I can rise to the challenge." She took up the spoon and began the simple task of pressing the softened butter into the sugar, creaming them together as Margaret's cook Sun-Ja would have said.

His laughter at the Madrassa comment was genuine amusement, happy, quick and bright. "I'd be lying," Alden said then. "If I said I've never fantasised about Companion Training. Always wondered if y'all had volunteers or practised on each other..." That impish gaze stared off into the middle distance for a couple of thoughtful seconds in a lack of answer to that thought.

Kindra looked up from her task and teased, "Were you planning to volunteer?" She very nearly asked if he would help her practice on him. But there was still that quagmire of unspoken things between them, and whilst she appreciated Alden's lighthearted conjecture – she had invited the comment – her training was an aspect of herself she wanted Alden to understand. "It may disappoint you to learn that… well, other companion schools might be different, but Madrassa takes a traditional approach. Companion training is primarily a broad and rigorous academic education. The uh, physical aspects are taught only during the last year or two." When the initiate was an adult, able to negotiate and consent. Her gaze dropped to the mixing bowl, hoping she'd not ruined the jocular mood. Then Kindra refocused on Alden and her lips quirked into a playful, mocking grin. "I can neither confirm nor deny the activities graduates and their special guests may indulge in."

"Who me?" Alden asked, his best innocent expression fooling no one. Honestly, he'd clearly considered this with some intensity in his youth and in many moments since, but then Kindra's bookish description on harsh Companion School reality crushed a teenage dream with brutal efficiency. "Oh..." he said, casting his gaze downward for a moment, only to raise it back towards her in time to catch that quirky grin. "Oh," he countered, a boyish smirk capturing his features. "So, there's definitely plenty of practising going on, but you're just bound by Academic Secrecy. Gotcha," Alden nodded, playing along. "Me and my imagination thank you kindly ma'am."

He watched quietly as his company worked the mixing bowl, enjoying the simple moment of Kindra's company with no obligation to prove anything or revisit the past. Then Alden switched on the Echo's little galley oven, give it a chance to get warm.

"Mmm, nothing like the smell of sugar and butter. Makes me think of home," she said, once the first two ingredients were thoroughly mixed. Kindra looked to Alden expectantly for the next step. "Is this recipe an original from Chef Alden's personal culinary repertoire, or did you learn it from someone else?"

"Kinda a mix of both," he answered Kindra's question. "Grannie Thomson taught us all to cook the basics. Recipe got messed up some out here in the Black on account of we don't always have every ingredient." Alden added a dash of milk to the mixture, then reached for two eggs. "Fold these in as they come," he told his beautiful company, then broke them one at a time into the bowl. Next up, he held in his hand what looked like a bowl of grated... courgette?

"Yes, chef," said Kindra without irony. She noted his grandmother's name and mixed in each egg as he added them. The supply of fresh ingredients in the kitchen spoke to how much Alden cared for his crew - other transport crews were not so lucky. Kindra regarded the bowl of grated vegetable with dubious surprise. "Is that… summer squash? In cupcakes?"

Alden smiled at the 'chef' moniker and handed Kindra the second bowl. "It is yeah," he agreed, clearly entertained by her expression and choosing to be enigmatic in the moment. "Mix them in, please," he requested, grabbing the dry ingredients of flour, cocoa, mixed spices, vanilla essence, baking powder and salt to add next. "Don't you trust me?" He asked, unable to keep the glint from his eye. This recipe never got old with a new audience.

The temptation to flirt – with this particular man who seemed to press all her buttons effortlessly - was too much to resist. Kindra looked up at him through her eyelashes and licked her lips. "In matters of culinary import, Alden, I will gladly submit in every way to your expertise."

Damn. She returned her attention once again to mixing the grated courgette with the other ingredients and cleared her throat. "Does this recipe have a name?"

Matters of more than culinary import, thought Alden, but he didn't speak those words out loud. What he wanted and what he received in relationships of the romantic kind was rarely equal on the emotional scale, and while Kindra's impish physical inflections complimented her fine, cultured politeness in the vocal accompaniment... they'd done that dance once before and he'd lost. That wound was old enough to be left buried, it nagged at him on a deeper level Alden could successfully ignore.

"I recall," he pointed out with a self-effacing grin. "I promised to teach you to cook a while ago." A cant of his head. "Submission isn't mandatory, and my expertise is more comfort food than fancy French words can do justice to." He leaned over the bowl. "Looks about ready to go into the cases I'd say," Alden noted, picking up the two cupcake trays from the counter. "And no name, not yet anyways. James and I just knew them as chocolate cupcakes."

"Submission can be voluntary then?" she teased with less enthusiasm. One-way flirting was just awkward. More somber she added, "I remember." He'd made that promise before she knew they had naught but a few days together, and they'd chosen to do other things with their time. "I'd still like to learn how to cook. More than a couple dishes. Comfort food… is always welcome." She was a companion, after all, comfort was part of her business. Kindra looked from the bowl of batter to the trays. "How do we transfer the batter to the baking cups?"

Damn. He couldn't just leave her hanging there.

"It can," Alden returned, with a hint of an underlying spark. "If you use the right safe word." She was gorgeous. Perfectly balanced. Talented, in all the ways he remembered enjoying. Smart in so many levels above him. He hated to see those eyes duck down and that smile harden, even a little. "So maybe I can teach you some," he mock-relented, tone light and easy on the soft, rolling accent. "Since you're stuck with me for a few more days yet."

From a drawer Alden pulled a well-worn wooden spoon to offer up to the young woman beside him. A spoon with which he gently smacked her hand as Kindra reached out to take it. "Old family heirloom," he told her, the smile wrapped about the words somewhat relaxed. "Be gentle."

"Your other lessons were delightfully memorable," Kindra said, her tone soft and wistful. Even when lesson wasn't a euphemism for other things. And she fervently hoped it would be possible to find some understanding between them so that this time, they'd have much more than a few days together.

Kindra laughed at the playful way Alden kept the wooden spoon from her grasp. "Perhaps you should demonstrate how you like your personal equipment treated before you let me handle it."

Memorable indeed. Alden picked up on that underlying gentle musing easily enough. "Focus," he said. "Chocolate is a serious business." He didn't want to think too deeply, didn't want to lose this lighthearted mood they were currently cultivating. "Sure, I can demonstrate. Watch me closely," he continued, a calm mockery of seriousness catching his face and crinkling lines between his brows.

A scoop of batter collected in the spoon's well, only to be unceremoniously flicked downward into the tray's first deep indent. And the second. Then with a lazy grace, Alden flipped the wooden implement up and handed it, handle first, to Kindra. "Your turn," he said, grin now more overt.

"Oh, I always take chocolate seriously." Kindra tried to maintain a straight face, but a moment later a lighthearted grin pushed its way through. She carefully mimicked Alden's motions to transfer the first spoon of lumpy batter into the next receptacle. Though she couldn't match Alden's practiced finesse, it was essentially a matter of hand-eye coordination and she soon filled the rest of the cups without spilling a drop.

She could not remember the last time she'd found so much pure enjoyment in such a simple, shared task. Kindra looked from the empty bowl to Alden and held up the wooden utensil. With an impish smile she asked innocently, "Does this lesson include licking the spoon?"

A lady after his own heart, considered Alden at Kindra's chocolate comment. Savoury was usually his go-to snack choice, but there was always something about chocolate and the companion in particular that accessed a past memory and brought his inner mischief to the surface.

"Aw, hunny," he said without thinking. "You can lick anything you like." The blush followed with a couple of seconds delay and Alden immediately lowered his gaze to the floor. She was messing with his head and he'd promised himself he'd be purely professional this time around.

Kindra hesitated with the spoon halfway to her lips. The downward shift to Alden's gaze, the blush… Flirting with Alden came as naturally to Kindra as breathing, but there was still this thing between them, they needed to work out. But not quite yet.

Instead of a suggestive comment followed by a maneuver with the spoon that would leave no doubt about what she wanted to lick and how she wanted to lick it, Kindra simply lifted the spoon to her mouth and tasted the batter. "It's good, can't wait to sample the finished product." Moving the conversation to less evocative ground, she added, "When I was a girl, Margaret's cook would let me lick the spoon and bowl when she baked sometimes. But only if I helped wash up."

She rescued him, deliberately? Alden looked back up to see Kindra sampling their work in progress. He smiled, the expression genuine, but softer, less mischievous now. "Won't take more than 'bout 20 minutes," he said. "And we'll have James here before that, soon as he catches the scent of 'em baking." Leant back against the counter, Alden nodded. "We used to line up for the scraps when we were littler too - me, Drake. James, Lauren..." he let that thought trail and opened the now warm oven.

"Couple proved loaves and the cupcakes to go in," Alden said, nudging his chin in the direction of two low, round bowls to their far left. "Wanna do the honours, Shao Jeh?"

"Loaves?" Kindra turned to look, then raised an eyebrow. "You made bread? Why, Alden Shian Shen, you are quite the multi-talented gentleman," she teased, implying her recall of other talents he'd once shown her. Damn, but it was hard not to flirt with him. "Tell me what to do, Chef Alden."

"Yup," he acknowledged. "Makes sense to use all the space in a heated oven, on account of we're working on a small ship." Waste not want not and all that. "Multi-talented, huh?" Alden offered up a bashful smile that was part humility and part happiness. "I guess I have my moments..."

He opened the oven door to make things easy and let Kindra grab some gloves that were hanging up beside the overhead cupboards. His mind couldn't help skipping recklessly over a certain companion's varied skillset, but Alden kept that reverie and mental playback purely internal.

Kindra slid the bread loaves in first, followed by the cupcakes which would take less time to bake. "Twenty minutes until the cupcakes are ready, I think you said. How shall we occupy our time?" Meeting his gaze, several activities came to mind, though twenty minutes would not be enough for any of them. Kindra moved closer, within a tempting few inches, and licked her lips. She wanted nothing so much in that moment than to simply lean in and kiss him.

Just... not yet. With a sigh, she reached around him for the cupcake spoon and mixing bowl. "The, uh... washing-up?"

A happy nod was followed by an underlying look of mild consternation as Kindra stepped inside his perimeter, and Alden tensed, if only slightly. For a second there, he'd thought she'd kiss him, and he wasn't against such a bold, or delicious move, not in any physical way at least. Mentally? That was a whole other story, and one he'd promised himself he wouldn't go back over. So, body willing, emotions protesting, he stood still, shoulders back and expression somewhat taken aback as Kindra changed tack and grabbed the utensils.

"Sure," he said. "I'll wash, you dry." But he was thinking about what he'd have done if she had kissed him. And he was thinking with that primal brain that wished she had.

"Fair enough." Kindra found a clean dish cloth and waited for him to begin washing, uncertainty writhing in her stomach. Alden was so… hesitant with her. Reluctant, even. She didn't know how much longer she could wait to talk about what happened between them so they could move past it to the possibility of - just maybe - a second chance. "Alden, may I ask a favor?"

About halfway to Ghost, Alden wasn't about to get into it. There was enough going on with the emotional mess Daiyu, James and Tristan were and dredging up that note or Kindra's reasons for being here? No thanks. So he filled the bowl just enough to wash everything they'd made dirty and got stuck in with the brush. He didn't tense when the companion asked him a question, but offered up raised eyebrow and a cant of his head.

"You may," he responded, simply, then added with good humour. "If it's in my power, you got it."

"Would you come by my shuttle for tea tomorrow?" The words came out in a rush and she allowed that spark of not-knowing to burn behind her dark eyes. After a moment Kindra blinked and glanced away. If he refused, she'd need to talk with him here and now. She looked up at him again, more controlled. "P-please? I'd like to talk without the possibility of interruption or being overheard."

Silently the dilemma raged in Alden's mind, but he kept his face mostly clear of that undercurrent of emotions. "Sure," he agreed, simply. Tomorrow was another day away yet and he'd half-expected Kindra to have more immediacy in this particular request. It was a good sign, right? Nothing to worry about? Alden fidgeted a little, fussed with the water and the washing-up bowl and then forced a smile.

"We'll have tea tomorrow," he reiterated. "Right now though, gotta go check the filters..." Not exactly a lie, but definitely an excuse to be elsewhere. He had to worry just a little that if they stayed in close proximity he'd do something to embarrass himself or upset her. If any of this awkwardness could be magically cured by a chat over tea though? It was worth a shot.

"Thank you," said Kindra, relieved. She was not quite ready for that conversation, but now that he'd agreed to talk privately the next day, her own tension eased. She would have liked to enjoy his company for longer, but it seemed she'd made him so uncomfortable as to fabricate an excuse to leave. She didn't hide her disappointment. "Well then. Uh.. if the filters are that urgent, I suppose you'd better go. I'll finish the washing-up and take the cupcakes and bread loaves out of the oven when they're done."

"Soh Ya Feh Tian," Alden said on a soft exhale. The young woman's emotions showed clearly enough for even him to pick up on Kindra's discontent. "Sorry," he admitted, stubbing the cupboard with a booted toe as he shook his head at his own ineptitude. "Nah, it's not so urgent I can't finish tidying up." A laugh followed then, simple and honest.

"Just a lot on my mind I guess," he told her, truth catching in tone and gaze as Alden looked back up. That old brightness shone exactly as Kindra might have remembered. "Plus, stealing the first cake while it's still warm is a guilty pleasure."

Kindra caught her breath at that look he gave her, as bright and genuine as the first time they'd met. The smile she returned was impish and conspiratorial. "You guessed my ulterior motive - stealing that first cake. Could be fun wrestling you for it." She fluffed her dishtowel to show she was ready to dry once he started washing. "But I'm willing to settle for the second cupcake."

Awkwardness shifted swiftly into easy laughter and Alden let go of all those underlying emotions for a moment. The sound of footsteps headed across metallic flooring towards them helped - company was coming and that 'rescue' wasn't unwelcome. Neither was the imagery of some pretty full-on wrestle-cuddling, but he kept that to himself. Kindra still knew just exactly how to circumnavigate his emotional armour, but Alden wasn't ready to strip it all off just yet.

"Looks like we'll have some more competition in a minute," he pointed out, his expression caught somewhere between wistful, hungry and happy resignation as he dropped his hands and half his attention into warm soapy water and those pesky dishes.

"Isn't that's the whole reason you were making cupcakes and baking bread, though? To share with your crew." It wasn't really a question. In her experience, transport ship captains didn't do such things. She looked sideways at Alden, admiring his profile, and smiled. This nurturing aspect of Alden's personality… it got him in trouble, but also drew people to him. Including her.

--------