[center][h1]I O U[/h1][/center]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5M2xGq0.jpeg[/img]                                       [img]https://i.imgur.com/vVIJCcy.png[/img][/center]

Collaborative post with [@Xandrya][hr]
[h2]Alana and Cal in the galley[/h2]

Making her way to the galley once more, Alana was hoping to find the captain quickly to deliver her update. However, when she turned in, she saw none other than him. That would certainly save her the trouble. "Impeccable timing as always." Alana walked her way across the galley to drop off the dishes, those she would handle when the temperature normalized. "I'm happy to report our patient is alive and well—as well as one could be after a sinking ship in the midst of a hurricane." She turned to Cal, arms crossed in front of her. "I left him to get some rest but mentioned you'd be stopping by, so whenever you have a bit of free time on your hands, you may pay him a visit."

As it were, Cal’s hands were clasped to a cooling cup of coffee, a litter of papers strewn across the galley table. He’d seized the opportunity of a now quiet ship to dot ‘i’s and cross ‘t’s against the trusty holo clipboard. With his back to the hatch as Alana entered, he stopped the chattering of his teeth just in time for her to cross his vision. Of course, the captain looked no different than his normal wardrobe, apart from his duster buttoned to the throat and a pair of knit, rainbow colored mittens courtesy Penelope, pilot-extraordinaire.

“Yes ma'am,” he intoned through tight lips. Rising, cup in hand, he joined Alana by the stove to warm his brew from the pot on the burner which feebly fought the plunging temperature. “We’ll have a chat once I finish up here. Can’t say I’m not morbidly curious just how his tale played out...” he paused to top off his cup, raising it to his lips before squaring with his medic. “You looked mighty heroic out there, all ‘STAT’ and ‘A-SAP.’ They learn you that stuff in med school?” His smirk was hidden behind a constant nurse on that cooling cup of joe.

"Oh you bet, I learned that and then some," she eyeballed him, trying her darnest not to stare at the multi-colored mittens to keep herself from convulsing into a laughing fit. Instead, she stared straight ahead as Cal poured himself some more of the coffee, something she wouldn't drink out of personal preference. She was more of a tea person, as recently witnessed. Just then, Alana unwillingly caught a side glance of the rainbow when she shifted her weight and cleared her throat to compose herself. 
 
“Good thing you’re staying warm,” she added, nodding towards his hands while simultaneously uncrossing hers and putting them in their respective pockets. “Who would have guessed that the big, bad captain was a fan of mittens...” The teasing could go for quite a bit given his playful nature, and of course Alana didn’t mind it at all. “My choice is not as [I]fashionable[/I] as yours, but it does the job.” She was referring to the plain, black coat she had purchased on her shopping trip with Penelope. 

He conjured the doc was trying to take a swipe at his latest fashion accessory, his jaw unhinging to reply, before doubling down on his sip of coffee. “See, I’m an opportunist; I see an opportunity t’ keep these money makers from freezing off while I’m relegated to the most glamorous part of captaining,” he half extended one mitten-clad hand toward the papers across the common table, “and I take it.” He arched a brow, “What? Not my color? I’ll have you know I’m part of a matching set.” He glanced back through the hatch toward the cargo bay, “the beanie is trapsin’ around here somewhere’s.”

"Absolutely your color," she nodded with a smirk. "In fact, you ought to make them your lucky mittens...maybe next match you'll have a fighting chance if you decide to bring them along—and your beanie too." She walked off for a moment as she spoke to grab some fruit from the bowl resting on one of the shelves. "But I can't, be too hard on ya," she turned to face Cal, taking a bite, "with such arduous responsibilities falling on your shoulders. Must be tough for a simple man like you." Shivering slightly, Alana used a hand to rub the opposite arm. No denying the cold was slowly getting to her.

Captain Strand leaned back to turn his head and take in Alana from head to toe. “You look… warm--” His crinkled eyes peered over his now cold cup of coffee, dejectedly. At that moment Abigail entered the galley and set to fixing up somethings on a tray. Captain gave her a nod, then returned his cold attentions on the doctor.

She watched him with his cup in hand, which musn't have been very warm by the looks of it. "Oh yes, I'm a little cold. What gave it away?"

The Captain let out a sort of cough chuckle, eyeing his coffee as if it had betrayed him. “I couldn’t touch another drop of this stuff.”  Pouring it out in the sink, he decided it was a safer bet to lean against the coffee pot in it’s burner, that way there’d be less between him and the warmth. “I draw the line at nine cups in a one-shot.” He could already feel the caffeine crash beginning to rear its ugly head, and he’d already smoked his last cigarette before they took off.

Arms folded across his chest, a hurt look passed over Cal’s features, “Hey now, I may be a simple man, but it takes a special kinda genius to come up with a way to keep four-thousand pounds of King Tuna fresh for an inter-planet run.” He blew into his mittened hands, studying the doctor’s response, all the while his hands itched for his empty cigarette case.

Tilting her head just the slightest, Alana couldn't help but feel a tinge guilty. Yes, they were having another friendly back-and-forth, but his expression did her in. She lowered her head as in defeat while a half-smile formed across her lips. "Cal, if I were to go on about how genius of a captain you are, your head would be up in the clouds for days. In order to keep you grounded in reality, I'll instead pick on you for making us deal with freezing temperatures, notwithstanding all that fish making a fresh arrival." She took another bite, this time smirking as she looked him up and down. "And I ain't giving you any more compliments until I find out for myself how great of a masseur you are."

That drew a soured smile from the captain, “Fair enough, though I reckon you might take offense to these beauties doin’ all the work, way things are goin’.” Cal flashed his mittened hand, then turned, a thoughtful look on his face. “What say I pay my due on a jungle beach? Sun, sand, lotion needs rubbin’ in, hm?” A hopeful look wormed its way through his tense eyes.

She leaned against the counter using her elbow, eyes on the snack at hand before looking up to meet his own while taking another bite. A smirk slowly appeared as she chewed on the fruit. 

Cal’s jaw flexed as he watched her leaning form, and her eye contact as she bit produced a shallow cough, “‘Til then, looks like I got a date with our latest creature from the deep.” He rounded the kitchen counter to the galley table. Nodding again to Abigail as she left, he scooped up the draft letters, bills of lading, and the holo clipboard, which he tucked neatly together before turning back to Alana. Clearing his throat Cal added, “Rain check?”

“There ain’t any rush, Cal,” she responded after a brief moment, “though an outing at the beach does sound rather pleasant after being on the verge of transforming into an ice statue.” Alana watched him get ready to take his leave. “Rain check it is. If our patient needs me, you know where to find me.”

With a nod Captain Strand agreed that Alana certainly [i]was[/i] statuesque. He was already on that beach and with that gorgeous view.

After his departure, Alana remained in the kitchen for a little while longer, fingers mindlessly taping the edge of the counter as her mind transported her to the very near future.