Motorhead Pizza, Part 1

Posted on Fri Jun 16th, 2023 @ 9:51pm by Lieutenant JG Irynya & Ensign Noah Balsam & Ensign Sheldon Parsons & Debbie Gless

Mission: On the Road Again
Location: Debbie's Diner
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 2000

[Debbie's Diner]
[Deck 7]
[MD 01 : 2000 Hours]

The wave was subtle and Noah only noticed its tail end- just a feeling his head was moving in a circle. When he registered it, he slowed and put a long arm out to ground on the bulkhead. Right now the monitoring systems Sickbay had clipped to him were registering a slight vertigo- all the more reason that Noah was supposed to stay awake for awhile longer. Even in the near-25th century, concussions were a concern. But when the motion stopped, Noah moved on.

He'd been ejected from the Holo-Lab by Chief Basheer only a few minutes later. And with the temptation of a soft bed in his quarters- regardless the presence of an Antican- Noah avoided that. He had to stay awake for- he chedked the chrono and frowned- another six hours. He decided on Basheer's recommendation: food. And he went the long way to the end of the Rhode Island variant, to Debbie's Diner.

When the doors hushed open it was nothing like the vibrant retro of the 1950's thrownback. No bright red. No checkerboard floors. No plush buttoned leather booths. No chromed wrap of the center area bar. No neon. The only thing that felt vaguely correct was the Doo-Wop pulsing through the speakers like it was coming from every angle, and the streaking stars that made up the view of the aft windows.

Noah scratched his eyebrow, his nerves irritated where some sort of blade-like plant had damned near sliced him open to the bone. It itched and when he itched it, his nerves shifted to a vaguely tense, cold sensation. He'd been told it was temporary. They'd had to decon him first, as he'd picked up some alien archaeo-bacteria to which only perhaps Bolians might have had some natural immunity.

Noah was eager to put Shaddam IVa behind him- even if someone cataloguing stars back on Pathfinder had a glorious sense of geeky humor to them.

Noah's wavering voice reached out in the bland stillness of the lounge. It resembled the rest of the Sojourner in decor now- grays and cool neutrals. "Deb? Are you-you here?" He asked.

Mixed with the blaring music came the clanging of pots and pans mixed with the running of water. One didn't need acute ears to trace the sound back to its source: the racket was emanating from the window behind the counter, which led into the diner's small kitchenette. While Debbie's could produce whatever patrons wanted by replicator, the diner also offered a selection of scratch-made authentic dishes as well. This, of course, meant the need for said pots and pans, which explained the sounds of them being washed. The diner's matron seemed to be taking advantage of the holographic downtime to catch up on her cleaning.

At the sound of Noah's voice, however, the noises all stopped and Deb poked her head through the window. Today's wig was bright tangerine. Below her football helmet of faux-hair hung gaudy, hoop-shaped earrings that were, by far, entirely too large. They swayed dramatically as the woman peered across her now boring-gray establishment, hawkishly taking in the sight of whoever'd interrupted her cleaning regimen. When Debbie saw that the person in question was Noah, however, the slight look of irritation on her face melted into abject ebullience.

"Noah!" she cried happily, pulling her head back through the window and, moments later, appearing through the door to the kitchenette. Debbie was drying her hands on a hand towel as she came around the counter like a woman possessed. Opening her arms wide, she embraced her skinny little stickbug with all the might she could muster...until she remembered he'd been injured -- or so the ship's scuttlebutt said -- and eased up. "Are you ok, baby?" Suddenly she was looking Noah over like a mother hen: she even clucked as she spied the signs of his recently healed injuries. "Looks like you're in one piece?" she asked hopefully.

Slowing blinking with affection and his too-wide mouth bending to smile with creased dimples, Noah affirmed. He tried to do it in that nonchalant "hey I'm cool" way with Debbie's hands on his face. "Y-yeah. Just some cuts and a concussion. And some time in quarantine." His nose wrinkled, "Some kind of Shaddam version of a bacteria?" He shrugged, "But I'm fine. OK for my third Away mission. Though-" He tilted his head in thought, squinting an eye. "I guess all three have been... uh... eventful?"

Debbie's gaze had turned hawkish as she regarded the cadet's hurts but softened considerably when he admitted he was alright. "I'm glad you're OK, baby," she beamed, eyes sparkling with mirth. Hands slowly fell away from his face, the matron moving to sit down at one of the temporary tables she'd erected when the holo-grid went offline. She motioned Noah to a chair of his own and then leaned back in hers, enjoying a few moments off her feet. "You've definitely had your share of adventures, I'll say that. Between you and me," she winked mischievously, "I kind of miss away team duty. But it's not like we haven't had our share of drama up here. Those damn Kazon," she grumbled amidst the 1950's tunes rocking from the jukebox.

Noah folded himself into the chair which would have felt completely usual in any other part of the ship. But his butt cheeks shifted into the chair almost like the seat was taboo. He looked around, rounding his gaze over the ceiling bulkheads. "Y-yeah I came by to see how you were doing with it. It'll be-" He chewed his lip. "A little while. I-I looked at the data and its huge. Seventy teraquads of data to deploy. The, uh, I mean," he scratched his cheek at the apex of one of the mostly healed cuts that were now just pink lines on his face, "A whole Galaxy-class back in the day had about twelve teraquads of total memory space. And this is just an upgrade."

His big brown eyes looked up at Debbie. "Sorry, shop talk... um." His eyebrows knit at that nose. "Wuh-what did happen up here anyway? It was really confused down on the planet."

"Seventy?!" Debbie asked incredulously. "I've been out of the engineering game for awhile," she admitted, thoughts drifting back to her former career as a Chief Engineer, "but that seems like a lot. But I guess as long as it keeps things running smoothly around here," a half-smile returned, "a little waiting isn't the worst thing." To Noah's question, the matron nodded slowly. "It was pretty chaotic. Red alerts always are," she smirked. "It was interesting watching the battle from here," Debbie gestured to the Diner's large window, which looked out beyond the rear of the ship. "Nothing like watching a Kazon ship keep shooting at you to make your blood pump."

"You-you should come look around the core sometime," Noah suggested. "Once an engineer, always an engineer?" He smiled and looked down as to the Kazon. "That's not a group I thought we'd see. I w-wonder why they're so far out here. I wonder if the destruction of, um, the Borg and all... just made things scattered." He squinted. "Weird."

"Just might take you up on that," Debbie smirked to the idea of spending time in the Core. To Noah's admission of the confusion down on Shaddam, Debbie clucked again. "Sounds like confusion for sure. I heard a little bit about it from Björn," she referenced the Captain by his first name, as was fitting for being a close friend. "He came in a bit ago for a bite and shared some details. But as he wasn't there himself," she pursed her lips and leaned forward, cradling her face in her hands and resting her elbows on the table, "maybe you could fill a girl in, eh?"

It was strange to the Cadet to hear the Captain's first name spoken in his presence. He guffawed like a teenager who'd just heard something semi-taboo. "Well. Um. You know us engineers. We stay at the back. Um." Noah pushed his curls behind his ears. They slipped almost immediately back. "I was setting up some, uh, science equipment. For Durand. We got hit by a bad storm. And this dust it was-was like flour. It clogged everything. And well-" Noah explained the Waverider's encounter with a Kazon woman and how they came under attack to the best of his ability. He was hazy on what had happened at some kind of structure. And the scientists had been attacked by some kinds of... bees?

Debbie had listened to the whole tale with interest, particularly focusing on the bit about the Kazon woman. When Noah had finished dishing up the juicy details, she leaned back in her chair again with a loud "Oooooof" sound escaping her. "You weren't kidding, baby. That's a lot."

"Ah-anyway," Noah shifted his seat. "So... after decon they told me to stay on light duty. And with-with the patching going on I thought. Uh." He glanced at her kitchen. "I thought we'd finally-"

But before he could finish, the doors to the lounge ushered soundless open and two bodies walked within.

"...like you wouldn't believe," came the voice of Ensign Parsons, who'd apparently been mid-sentence in a discussion with Irynya when the doors had swished open, their quiet sigh lost to the buzz of the music. "Oh," his mouth formed the same shape, his eyes darting back and forth across the diner, taking in its current state. "Don't tell me: the upgrade, right?" he sighed, offering both Noah and Debbie an awkward wave.

"We were hoping to grab something to eat in our favorite greasy spoon but...uh..." Sheldon stammered nervously, "looks like you're closed for business, Deb?" He had a fondness for and a familiarity with the matron, stemming back to his days volunteering as a server for her back on the Adelphi. He'd handed in his roller skates long ago but still enjoyed being a patron in her space.

"Nonsense," Debbie beamed, gesturing Sheldon and Irynya to the other two open chairs at the table. "Noah and I were just chatting about what happened down on that moon. Sounds like you all could use something special to refill your tummies and your spirits. I gave Mel the night off given the upgrade," she said, referring to her normal short order cook, "but I'd be happy to whip something up for you all," she offered, eyes taking in all three of the dispirited officers. Well, two officers and a cadet, Deb thought to herself.

Irynya's eyes had lit on Noah first and appraised him silently as if expecting to find some previously missed injury lingering. The image of her friend's face, strafed with deep cuts, felt to her as though it were burned into her eyelids. Seemingly satisfied her expression lightened and she made a beeline for Debbie, wrapping the woman in a hug from behind her chair, arms circling her collarbone and head resting on top of the pile of brightly colored hair. She squeezed slightly while the matron's hand came up yo grasp her arm and squeeze. "I needed that," she told Debbie, referencing the hug, before coming around to Noah and, brushing a very European feeling kiss to his cheek before sliding into one of the free chairs. "Ok?" She asked him.

There was a feeling of something non-committal in Noah's nod that he was fine. But he smiled just the same. He was still processing it all. He was about to ask her how she was when...

Sheldon had hung back, letting Iry take the lead, and then lowered himself into the remaining chair. "Hey Noah," he half-smiled at their roommate. "Glad to see you're doing alright. Was kind of scary watching you come aboard the Waverider like that," he admitted, relieved to see the cadet mostly back to rights. To Deb, he said, "That's very nice of you to offer. Maybe something super easy to make? Hate to make you go through a lot of trouble."

Noah's smiled tilted pensively and he nodded. "Th-thanks, Shel. But I'm fine. It's. it's just cuts. Kestrel was more hurt than me." His eyebrow quirked and he tried to light a joke, "I-I think I'm meant to be an indoor boy, you know?" His nose wrinkled, animated, geeky.

"Or maybe something we could help make?" Iry chimed in. "My hands need something to do." She could think of all manner of things to do with her hands, but none were an option at that moment. She'd happily settle for keeping her fingers busy.

"I-I was going to suggest we make pizza?" Noah suggested with a tentative look around the new gathering. He felt like people were staring at his face and the pink, thin lines that marked where he'd healed. And even those would be gone in a day or so. "Detroit... pizza?"

With a slight quirk of her head, Irynya looked from Noah to Deb and back. She knew what pizza was. It was one of those universal foods that, despite originating on Earth, seemed to be familiar to most everyone. If you were a cadet and didn't at least try pizza while at the Academy when you came from another race it was a travesty. That, however, was about the extent of her pizza knowledge. "What makes it... Detroit?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Debbie's eyes twinkled at the mention of pizza. "Love that idea, baby," she said, reaching over to squeeze Noah's shoulder. To Iry's question, though, the matron smiled brightly and said, "It's square. Well, sometimes rectangular too, I suppose," she said, using hand gestures to Vogue the respective shapes. "You put down a thick layer of dough into a deep baking pan. Then you layer on your sauce, cheese, and toppings," Debbie explained, miming the hand-sprinkling of cheeses and the placement of the pepperonis.

"Some people put the toppings and cheese in the middle layers with the sauce on top. That prevents a soggy crust," she mused, "but if you bake it well, that's not really necessary. I prefer the cheese on top so it gets extra crispy around the edges. The burned cheese is the secret to a good Detroit-style pizza," Debbie stated emphatically. "The kitchen is too small for all of us to go back there but," she grinned, "we could bring the ingredients out here and make it all together? Just need to replicate some ingredients."

As an Earther, Sheldon had definitely partaken of the Motor City's finest creation. "It's sooooo good, Iry. I promise," he said with excitement, licking his lips. "Noah, do you prefer the cheese or sauce on top? I've had it both ways but everyone has their preferred style," the engineer explained.

"And and you need brick cheese. It's a special kind of cheese. And you put the pepperoni on top so they crisp up and get cup shaped." Noah added, his friendly- even beaming- gaze had already turned to Sheldon. "Ohh uh, definitely on-on top. But I'm flexible. Kitchen's choice. But back home, Detroit style um, dominates. On Enceladus I mean. Which is kind of weird because..." He shrugged. "Well, of who founded the colony. I guess they uh, wanted something guilty taboo, ish?"

Noah was sliding out of where he'd perched. And he was striding, lanky and loping, toward the replicators. "I uploaded what I could kind of of figure out, recipe wise, from Dingo's Deep Dive. For the sauce and all."

"That's interesting about Enceladus," Sheldon said, chewing at the inside of his lip. "You wouldn't think pizza, of all things, would be so prevalent out there, much less Detroit-style. Pretty neat, though," he smiled at Noah's exuberance about cheese and replicating the ingredients. "Would you mind natural-casing pepperoni? Has a better snap and I find the edges crisp and cup better."

Noah pointed at Sheldon, beaming, his eyes widening, "Yes! Gre-great idea! And its all about the crisp."

Debbie, for her part, just sat back and smiled. These people had just gone through something pretty traumatic but here they were focusing on making pizza together. It warmed her heart that they were so throwing themselves into the idea. "I'm going to grab a few things we'll need," she said, rising from her chair. "I'll be right back," she promised before heading back for the small kitchen behind the counter. Disappearing inside, she was visible through the window pulling various utensils and such from drawers and cabinets.

Still unsure of the task at hand, Irynya held her position at the table, watching and listening as Sheldon and Noah discussed toppings. When a lull finally appeared she offered up, "I trust you both on what we should add. Just let me know what I should do? I think I've had pizza maybe... twice? And both times were at the Academy."

"You've only had-had pizza twice, Iry?" Noah guffawed. "Who... how... how?" Noah closed his eyes to form his words better beyond shock, "Starfleet Academy is surrounded by places with pizza. Well pizza... and uh... burritos." His nose crinkled at his freckled nose bridge, "And from what Katherine showed us, burlesque. And bars." He winced an eye, "I-I kind of got the impression that the instructors all liked happy hour. especially at Ten-Forward."

"You mean that place with the lady with the big hats?" Sheldon asked, catching the reference. "I went there once on a date. Kind of a dive. Lots of dark corners to be pressured into making out in," he explained, reflecting back on his one and only visit there. "Making out in front of Admirals is like super weird, right? A good way to end your career before it even gets started," he said, obviously meaning as a cadet. "I was convinced they were all judging me and going to kick me out."

"Yeah," Noah acknowledged, his look a mix of relief and recognition. It felt like a Starfleet staple. Everybody went to Ten Forward, right? "I don't remember her name, but it starts with a G. But I got one the, um, models of the NX-Refit from her gift store. I still have it." He guffawed and pushed his hair behind his ear, "I wish I could've been an engineer on one of those. I saw it in the Fleet Museum?" He grinned goofily, "I-I think I got a semi just from standing in its computer core. It was so retro."

Noah blinked as he realized Sheldon had said more about a date- and his eyes widened a little. "Whoa. You-you made out in Ten Forward? In front of... an Admiral, or are we tuh-talking. Like." Noah's nose scrunched, "The Admiral?" He smiled, nibble-lipped, "Buh-but they didn't kick you out right?" His smile widened, "What... was their name? Maybe they were in the same year as us?"

As Noah and Sheldon discussed the newly confessed make out session, Iry's face had transformed from amusement to the look of a cat that had just gotten into the cream. "If it was the guy who gave you the slippers I swear..." she paused, the brief break in her speech pregnant with intent, "I may have to find him someday and make him regret..." Her tone was level, but her eyes gave away her mirth. She and Sheldon had bonded over the story of how he came to possess light up unicorn slippers during a red alert that had them both on standby. Afterward she'd suggested that Sheldon reach out to the guy to see if there was something there. When her friend had been met with a chilly reception, she'd felt bad for the advice, but glad that at least he might have some closure.

"And her name is Guinan," Irynya offered, pulling the bar owner's name out of thin air. "Making out in a dark corner at Ten Forward is like a rite of passage. I may not have had pizza more than twice, but I've made out with someone at Ten Forward." She directed this last comment to Noah before turning a quick look at Sheldon and winking.

"I-I must've missed that rite of passage," Noah grimaced widely, snorting once at his naivete. He grinned wider, "Guinan, right. Y-yeah. She looks at you and it feels like she's patiently staring into your soul." He shrugged and swung to Sheldon, then back to Irynya, "I just had the cheesesticks. Not the makeout corner. Which were-" He wavered his hand, "Okay." His eyes followed Irynya's glance back to Sheldon. "So-so, who were they, anyway?"

"Guinan, right!" Sheldon nodded, the name sounding familiar enough to trigger his memory. To Iry's ask if the man in question was Mr. Slippers, the engineer shook his head slowly. "Different guy. We were in a warp field mechanics class together. Joined Trill named Behn Kowan," he explained. "Far beyond his years...and mine, too," Sheldon chuckled nervously. "He suggested we go for a drink one night after class wrapped. I almost said no but he was so handsome. So we went. Had a drink, which turned into two and then three. And then," his voice rose to new nasal heights, "he came around the table and planted one on me right in front of Admiral Janeway of all people." He shuddered with the memory.

Noah slow blinked wide eyes. "I-I feel like she might be one of the more understanding admirals. If you landed here with Jellico or Shelby..." he grimaced like someone had just threatened him with a rectal exam. "I've-I've seen Shelby in here. Well I mean, there. In there, Ten Forward." He shook his head. "She's very... uh... m-militaristic."

"Aw, Shelby would have been fine too. Maybe a bit of a show would help her unwind," Irynya commented wryly before turning her attention to Sheldon. "Was it a good kiss?"

"Too much tongue," Sheldon replied. "And entirely too wet. It was like a monsoon in my mouth," he quipped.

Noah raised his voice, "Hey Deb?!" He called back to the kitchen, "Did you ever make out with anybody in Ten Forward?"

"Guessing you mean the bar on Earth and not my space on the Adelphi?" Deb asked from behind the counter, coming out of the kitchen with a stack of dishes and utensils in her arms. She'd taken inspiration for the name of her own bar from Guinan's, though it had caused some confusion given that the bar in question had been on deck 12. When the Sojo became a thing, she'd stuck to naming her diner after herself instead.

"If so, then yes," Debbie beamed, returning to set the things she'd gathered down on the table. "Want to help me move some of these together?" she asked of Iry and the others, gesturing to the other tables. "We're going to need some room to work," she explained, indicating that the tables should be adjoined in length-wise fashion. "Made out with many cute boys there. A woman once, too," she chuckled at the memory. "This guy had been hitting on both of us relentlessly so we made out to both tease and make him mad," Debbie laughed melodiously.

Noah sprang to help, his skinniness engaged to move tables and chairs together to create a bigger space. "I-I guess I missed out. I made out in other places. I guess." He shrugged. One eye winced while his plastic mouth swerved into something amiable, apologetic, dorky, "Mostly in the dorms. And by mostly... uh... twice." Noah looked between the gathering of the other three. He hadn't known the name of the Trill. But as he helped move tables, Noah said to Sheldon, "I-I guess all those lives under them, they decided to just get to it."

Sheldon, too, had stood and moved to help out. Reorienting a table in the proper direction, he shuffle-dragged it across the boring beige carpet -- he missed the holographic tile floor the diner normally sported -- and put it in position next to the one Noah had moved. "Sounds like you've had some experiences of your own. And perhaps with a Trill, given that comment?" he wondered aloud. "Behn was definitely like that. Knew what he wanted and just went for it. Oh!" Shelly sparked, "I can totally pull up his service jacket. Here," he said, keying commands into the PADD he'd brought and handing it over.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Behn Kowan," the engineer said, gesturing at the photo. The photo in question was of an exceptionally handsome man with skin the color of highly-creamed coffee. Mottled brown spots adorned his crown and ran down the lengths of his face, disappearing into the neckline of his uniform. Dark, inky eyes softly stared back, his face adorned with a half-smile. "Uh, he didn't have the mustache when I met him, though. Not sure how I feel about that look," Sheldon mumbled as he moved to pull chairs over.

Noah blinked at the image of the joined Trill. He sucked in his bottom lip, and nibbled it. "Uhh... he-he looks a little, um. Uh," Noah winced an eye, "Familiar? I-I never learned his name. Well his uh, full name. I thought he said Ben. But he uh." Noah rubbed his nape, "He tried to uh....?" His nose squinted, "You know."

"Wait...you too?!" Sheldon asked, flabbergasted. "I mean, that tracks...he likes the younger, lanky types. But I can only imagine how strongly he must have come on. Did he...get his way?" he asked carefully, concern infusing his voice. Anger fired in the engineer's belly as he thought about his friend potentially being taken advantage of by Kowan. Not that the man was a predator or anything but Behn had been a difficult person to say no to, especially if you were starry eyed and attention starved like he himself had been.

Geekily, Noah blushed, his smile spanning too widely. He brushed hair behind his ear. His nose scrunched. "N-no. No. It never went anywhere beyond him... y-y'know. The come on lines. I wasn't um." Noah shrugged. "I wasn't super interested. I was so deep into planning my final project for Theoretical Smallcraft Design for Subspace." Noah glanced his near black eyes up at Sheldon, "But I think he went home with Xishe that night?" Noah said, eyes narrowed to concentrate on the name. Xishe was his roommate's Xahean eventual-boyfriend. Who was- as Sheldon had suggested and Xishe seemed to confirm- the Lieutenant's type. He was long and lanky. Noah grimaced. "I mean. I was tempted but.... no."

While Noah and Sheldon compared notes, Irynya had plucked the PADD from Noah's grasp, scrolling through the Trill's record before sliding back up to look at his photo. She looked from the PADD to the two men in front of her and back a few times, cheeky grin pressing the corners of her lips out further each time she did. She waited just a moment longer for a lull in the conversation before inserting, "No wonder he went for both of you... Mr. Kowan's got good taste." She delivered this with a degree of seriousness, just an edge of the sensual Risian showing in hrr voice.

Then she blew them both a kiss, raised her eyebrows suggestively, and added, "Bet I kiss better than he does, though." And then she burst into a fit of giggles.

"Sorry," she said between bouts of giggles.

Noah's nose wrinkled and he gently shook his head, "N-no you're not," he playfully scowled. Noah rubbed where he'd been recently healed near his eye. It still felt stiff and dry, and a little tender. "Buh-but that's OK because that's part of your charm." Noah looked at Sheldon and then back to Irynya. "I-I think he was just looking for some ass. To-to be honest. He was-" Noah's eyebrows rose emphatically, which almost rounded his bedroom almonds, "Really blunt. And forward."

Noah sidled into place to begin slicing pepperoni. "So uh, how about you Iry? Deb? Who were you with?" He grinned, "And-and in front of what admiralty?"

"I dunno," Sheldon replied to Irynya with a smirk. "Behn's a pretty good kisser. And that sounds like him alright," Sheldon nodded to Noah's assessment of the man and his intentions. Picking up a large block of mozzarella cheese, he eyed the ingredient curiously. "Isn't this usually shredded?" he wondered out loud, looking stymied until Debbie passed him a cheese grater and a bowl. "Ah, thank you," he nodded, getting the idea. He began running the block across the grater -- positioned over the bowl so the shreds were caught -- but looked at Iry expectantly, waiting to hear her story. "Well?" he asked/urged the Risian.

"I feel like I should be doing something..." Iry offered up, watching each of her companions work on a piece of the pizza. "Isn't there like... some kind of bread dough associated with this?"

Debbie, meanwhile, produced a portable cooking burner from somewhere and placed it on the table. Turning on the heat, she placed a skillet over the cooking element and let it get hot while she tended to the strips of replicated, raw bacon. "Yes Iry, by all means," she smiled at the other woman encouragingly before turning back to the pork. With a sharp knife on a cutting board, she began chopping the imitation-pig slices into dices, then scooped the pieces up with her hands and threw them into the skillet, where they began to sizzle.

Not immediately seeing how to help and clearly lacking the same degree of familiarity the other three had, Iry shrugged and perched on the edge of a chair. "I've done it twice, actually," she commented. "The first time was my second year. Her name was Kylora... an Andorian engineer who had a thing for people from hot climates. Something about opposites and keeping warm..." Iry shrugged."It was a one time thing with her. She was two years above me and we'd had a bit to drink and somehow the topic of Ten Forward came up so we decided to go."

The Risian had been gesticulating as she spoke, hands and shoulders fully engaged in the story telling. "Let's see," she continued, "It was the far back corner booth and the next booth over was..." she thought a moment as if she had to consider who the Admiral had been... "Admiral Freeman... that's right."

Noah had been bringing up the bread dough recipe, which he finger flicked toward the Risian while she regaled them of her Academy days highlights. "Wih-which Admiral Freeman?" Noah inquired on the heels of irynya shifting the story to her second. His nose had wrinkled. "How-how did you handle the differences in Andorian um... well..." Noah looked at Debbie and Sheldon, "Well, their temperature needs. Don't they uh. N-need cold?"

A fresh eruption of giggles came from the direction of the Risian at Noah's second question. "Yes and no," she said coyly when she'd gotten them back under control. "I mean... any obstacle is easy to overcome if you're determined enough. Besides... their internal biology is warm enough... My comparative... heat... just happened to be her thing." As she spoke she pulled open the file Noah had sent her adding as an after thought, "It was Alonzo Freeman; that Admiral Freeman."

Noah's mouth rounded into an OH of understanding, "Tha-that one, OK." Noah's eyes narrowed, "I-I hear he's really tall. But. Nevermind, you were s-saying."

"My second was with Julian Yarmouth. Another pilot in my year. He'd been chatting me up for a few weeks and this was our... third... no fourth... date. Took me to Ten Forward for drinks after dinner. He'd even gone so far as to replicate a horga'hn that he gave me at dinner." She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she recalled the memory. The horga'hn piece had seemed forced, but she'd liked the attention so she'd accepted it even though Yarmouth clearly hadn't fully understood what it meant. "That one was in front of Vice Admiral Henry," she commented. "That and the spectacular dumping of Julian's beer all down the front of his shirt when another classmate took a picture..." Iry made a face then. "Turns out Yarmouth was just collecting on a bet." She shrugged. "Good kisser, though."

"A bet?" Noah's nose wrinkled again. He finished slicing the pepperoni with an Engineer's precision- it almost looked like an Android had done it with the slices so similarly thick. Noah scooped them up in his hands and walked them toward Debbie. He took up another length of the spicy meat and returned to his spot, keen to slice it as precisely as he had the first.

Debbie took the pepperoni and added it to a platter of topping choices, which would include the bacon she was frying up. "Honey, use a little more pressure on the cheese," she said to Sheldon, whose mozzarella shavings were looking rather on the thin side. To Irynya, the matron -- as Timmoz thought of her -- smirked. "I bet those cadets loved you, girl. Do you still have the stick you probably used to beat them off?" Realization as to her unintentional word choice sprang into her eyes and Debbie said, "Shit. Sorry. Should have worded that better." It was an apology but one half-counteracted by the growing grin on her face.

Iry's expression turned cat-like, eyes darting over to Debbie from the recipe that she had been reviewing. She'd begun to read, but stopped at the matron's comment. "Debbie... you know full well that a stick is unnecessary to beat them off. Hands do the trick just fine..." She said this all with the kind of amused tone of someone who knows full well what she's talking about and is enjoying the discomfort that this level of frankness may cause the rest of their party. "Of course that's more true for the ones that present with a phallic sex organ, but... the sentiment still stands." And then, as though she hadn't just commented on the range of sex organs across species and sexes, Iry turned back to the recipe, moving over to the replicator to begin collecting ingredients.

Noah blushed and looked at Sheldon. "We-we are simple creatures that way. I-I guess." He smiled genuinely, kind of grimace-y. His nose wrinkled at the bridge. "I've-I've always been confused by Andorian sexual anatomy. Penises... and-and, Ovipositors. And... and I'm guessing something. You know. Pouch like vaginas or something?" He smiled goofily and pushed hair behind his ear, "You'd think I'd be good at parts. Tuh-turns out this mostly just engineering."

"They're simpler than you might think," Iry commented as if a discussion of Andorian sexual anatomy was as normal to talk about as computer core gel packs. "It's really down to who contributes what DNA to the zhen. But their sex organs are pretty straightforward. The male presenting both have phalluses and the female presenting who doesn't carry the child is hermaphroditic. The last one is entirely female presenting, but only with the organs to house and grow the baby." She glanced up from where she had been depositing ingredients to look at Noah. "No pouches. Sex with an Andorian is... not unlike sex with a human though it's extra fun when you're with a shen. Lots of options there." While her tone had been largely neutral, educational even, her expression shifted back toward mischief as she commented on that last part. "Kylora was a shen."

And then, as if to punctuate that point, she winked at him. "You know... Timmoz has this great holodeck program if you ever..." she let that trail off, taking in both men now and popping her eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm aware," Noah said. He chuckled, both a blush and a coyness covering over him. "Youuu see... um. I-I was busy clearing out the cache of the Holodeck a few days ago. Wherever he, uh, got it caused a little glitch in the system." Noah lifted his eyes from his task, "Pruh-probably because it wasn't a Federation manufacture. Um." His voice went high, "Interesting. From what little I saw. In um. The glitch." His brows lifted, "Very um. Ample."

"Understatement," Irynya quipped back, but the tiniest bit of pink crept onto her cheeks. "Ample is an understatement. I'll take you with sometime if you want." And then, as if realizing belatedly how that offer might look, she expanded that. "Any of you really. It's... a great way to destress."

Sheldon, for his part, gulped and just moved past said offer. "Alright Deb, I think I've got the cheese pretty well grated," he said, handing the bowl over to the matron. As she took it from him to store with the other prepared ingredients, he picked a piece of the cheese from the grater and popped it in his mouth. "Oh, that's good," he commented.

"It'll be even better when it's all melty," Debbie grinned. Plating her bacon, she quickly diced the fried pork strips into little pieces and then set them aside as well. At last, it seemed it was finally time to work with the dough. She'd replicated three large balls of the stuff and now brought them over to Iry, Noah, and Sheldon, placing each one on a sheet of parchment paper in front of them. "Time to work the dough into a large circle...about 12 inches in diameter should do it," she said.

A look of slightly bewildered uncertainty flashed across Irynya's face, quickly covered over by curiosity. She held back a moment waiting to see what Noah and Sheldon did with the instructions to work the dough. Her own dough looked an awful lot like a round-ish blob and was nowhere near the recommended size. Hesitantly she pressed a finger into the center of the blob, watching as her fingertip sunk downward before carefully drawing it back up.

"Um," Noah had been chewing on a piece of pepperoni, and waved his hand in crisscross fashion. Then he did the old Human gesture of making a T with his hands. "Time out. It's n-not that kind of crust." Noah picked up the shaggy dough Irynya had created, bowl and all, and headed into Debbie's kitchen. "We have to ferment it," Noah said, walking backward- nearly into some kind of appliance. He turned around- and winged his cheek on one of the appliance's arms. "Ow," he muttered and stepped around it. "They-they really need to give Debbie more room. In here."

The Risian, now even more bewildered, trailed behind, vacillating between the slightly uncomfortable joy of not knowing what she was doing and the thrill of watching Noah in what, apparently, seemed to be his element. At the sound of skin hitting immovable object, though, her attention shifted. "Are you ok?"

"Y-yeah, I'm... I will be. Just." He shrugged at Irynya's question. He didn't mean to deflect, but... he just didn't have the answer. "You?"

Noah stooped, bending over to a small receptacle. He placed the bowl and dough inside and shut it. He touched several keys and the cubbie hummed. Noah pulled it out a moment later.

The dough looked lighter somehow, puffier and bubbly. "C-come on," Noah smiled, rejoining Debbie and Sheldon.

Iry had gotten a good glimpse at what, to her, appeared to be a nearly magical transformation of the lump she had mixed together and as she returned woth him to the other two bakers?... cooks?... chefs?... she gave them a wide eyed grin and a small shrug.

"He's in charge," she quipped with a grin before turning to address Deb specifically, "You haven't told us about your Ten Forward... Conquests..." Iry commented, watching Noah and Sheldon again. "Which admirals did you make out in front of?"

Debbie looked embarrassed as Noah and Irynya returned with the dough. "Sorry about that," she offered sheepishly, which was not at all customary for her. "Got caught up in talking and my brain went right to New York style pizza," she dithered, trying to hide her oversight with a bubbly laugh at her own expense. To Iry's question, the brassy, bossy force of nature that was Hurricane Gless returned with a mischievous storm in her eyes.

"Believe it or not," she assumed a tea pot pose, "I used to be quite the looker." With one hand on her hip and the other held above her shoulder, Debbie slowly turned on the spot, as if modeling a beautiful gown instead of her pin-bedecked red vest and slacks. Coming back to face the others again, she smiled wistfully. "I remember lots of cute boys who'd chuck pebbles at my window in hopes of a midnight invite into my room. Sadly, my roommate was not approving of such shenanigans, so I'd invite them to Ten Forward instead. Which is where I once took turns making out with three of them in front of Admiral Nechayev."

"Oh, she was scary," Sheldon admitted with a gulp. "What did she do?" he asked, concern on his face.

"In public, I got a disapproving look," Debbie replied. "But later I ran into her in the ladies' and -- I shit you not," she laughed like a blaring trumpet, "she actually high-fived me. I was floored as all hell."

Noah was too young to know much of the pragmatic and steely-eyed decisioning that was Admiral Necheyev. For what she made up in a small-framed blond woman who liked canapes, she made up with a stare and a cold tone that could break even her fellow admirals at the time. He knew of the statue of the women in that old style uniform, with the gray shoulders- one Starfleet has retired in an effort to maybe bury the horrors of the Dominion War. "You're shitting us," Noah said with a blink.

At Noah's comment Iry burst into a fresh fit of giggles. Laughter felt good, like tension that had taken root in her chest was breaking up with each spasm of her lungs in concert with her vocal chords. "Teach me your ways oh great one," Iry quipped almost wryly in between giggles and then, as if remembering the two men with them her expression turned sly and she quipped, "or show me..." and then, snorting--actually snorting--in amusement while unable to look at either Sheldon or Noah she laughed anew. "I'm sorry," she breathed when the laughter died, "I couldn't resist."

Noah watched Irynya laugh, joke, snort, tease Debbie. His eyebrow perked itself while he began prepping the dough. His nimbly quick fingers dabbled in rapid fire at it like he was making focaccia. His lips pursed, he issued his own choked chuckle, "She-she's not sorry," Noah said, swinging his eyes from Irynya to Debbie, "I think she means it." His nose wrinkled, his eyes squinted, a defiant wrinkle to his mouth like he was daring Irynya to deny it. "You-you just became her Yoda, uh Deb."

With that boisterous, cacophonous laugh of hers, the matron lit up with life. "Oh honey, those days are long, long gone at this point. That was about 70 pounds and 30 years ago," Debbie said, lament dimming her eyes a bit as she ran her hands down and over her aging, bulbous body. "Not many turn their head my way these days, though I suppose I could share a few tips from my time. Like how to simultaneously manage three boys hungry for tongue without anyone feeling left out," she winked back at the Risian with a guffaw. "Yoda?" Debbie suddenly asked then, turning to Noah as she continued the busy work of prepping. "That some kind of Risian thing?" she wondered, absentmindedly licking her thumb and reaching over to wipe some flour from the young cadet's cheek. "There you go baby," she said, withdrawing her hand.

"That's the one with Luke Air Runner or whatever, right?" Sheldon asked, looking up from his own dough. Noah was always introducing them to "ancient sci-fi" and, while the older engineer enjoyed the stick-bug's exuberance for classic media, he couldn't always keep the details straight. "Or was it the one with the -- what are they called? Duh-leks?"

"Skywalker," Iry quipped back with the sort of recall that gave away just how much attention she paid attention to the things Noah introduced. She didn't pause to consider if her recall might surprise anyone. "Yoda is Star Wars. Daleks are Dr. Who." She wrinkled her nose in put upon amusement and then, as if she hadn't just rattled those off, added, "I wouldn't mind a lesson in keeping three satisfied at once. Never had quite that many to work with."
Tag Sheldon/Noah/Deb

"S-someone's been paying attention!" Noah exclaimed with pride while his fingers dappled the dough. "That's a-uh, a lot of... um... body parts to keep track of at once. How does anybody make sure everybody's having a good time?" Noah asked, looking up through his hunch with his bangs in his face. He looked at the three.

Arrayed as they were, Irynya wasn't exactly standing next to Noah, but he was close enough for her to keep one hand on her ball of dough as she shuffled to her left, beaming a bit at Noah's enthusiasm while she bumped him affectionately with her shoulder before shuffling her way back to her dough. She grinned down at her hands as she massaged the dough, delicate fingers pressing into it following the tactics that Noah, Sheldon, and Deb each seemed to know almost instinctively. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip for a second before she turned her gaze back to Deb. Adding punctuation to Noah's question. "Teach us your ways oh wise one," she quipped at the woman, shooting a wink at both of her roommates afterwards.

To both Iry and Noah's questions, Debbie winked. "The trick is to get them to kiss each other, too," she smirked with a hundred pounds of mischief. "More on that later, though," the matron demurred, looking down at the laden table full of prepped dough and toppings. "I think we're probably ready for final assembly, hmm?" Debbie asked, hands on her hips as she hawkishly purveyed the ingredients laid out before them. "Why don't you all get started and I'll fire up the oven. I've got three racks to work with, so should be able to get them all in at the same time. But I want a slice from each of yours, since I'm not making my own," the woman explained, her tone not giving much choice in the matter. "Got it?" she demanded, her gaze mockingly glaring.

To Be Continued...

=/\= Pizza and Hijinks By =/\=

Lieutenant JG Irynya
Assistant Chief Flight Controller

Ensign Sheldon Parsons
Engineer

Midshipman Noah Balsam
Systems Specialist

Debbie Gless
Proprietress Extraordinaire