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"Starting Out" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG Chef’s Diner (8) Archer looked at the door when his ready room doorbell beeped. “I told them not to disturb me,” Archer muttered, looking back at his screen. The doorbell beeped again. “Come in,” Archer said, looking at the door. Chef walked in and stopped just inside the door so that the sensor held the door open. “Whose galley is it, Captain?” Chef demanded. Archer stared at the giant of a man standing in front of him, half wondering if this was a joke. “Pardon?” Archer asked. “The galley. Who’s is it? Yours or mine?” “Everyone’s Chef.” “Everyone’s, sir?” Chef’s eyebrows rose to express his dislike to Archer’s response. “Is there something wrong, Chef?” “I wanna give some people access to the galley after hours, Captain.” “Who?” “Some crew.” “Why?” “They wanna cook.” “Chef, you cook. You and your staff do all the cooking. Other crewmen have other duties that do not include cooking.” “I know that.” “Chef, I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re asking.” “Just tell me if I can give a couple people access to the galley or not, Captain.” “You can’t take people away from their duties. You’re not going to do that, are you?” “No. It’ll be after their shifts. They’ve already assured me of that.” “Then permission granted.” Chef turned and left without being dismissed. And when he left Archer saw Trip standing outside the door. Trip watched Chef cross the bridge and step onto the lift. “Can I help you, Trip?” Archer asked. Trip stepped into the ready room, handing Archer a PADD “What was that about?” “I have no clue.” “Good thing his cooking is better than his manners,” Trip joked. Archer laughed, taking the PADD from Trip and watching him leave. # Archer rounded the corner and the mess hall doors opened. The scent of something cooking beckoned to Archer’s already growling stomach. Archer stopped, cocking his head to the side when he heard voices coming from the galley. Archer walked toward the counter that separated the dining area from the galley, recognizing the scent. It was baking pizza and it smelled like a supreme with everything. Archer’s stomach growled louder and his mouth began watering in response to the scent that was far more appetizing than anything he could get out of the refrigerated cabinets or resequencer. Archer stopped at the counter, watching the four people at the back. Archer knew all the senior staff but not the entire junior or enlisted staff. Since he didn’t recognize the four sitting around a butcher’s block he presumed they were junior or enlisted crew. The four were talking and laughing, apparently waiting for the pizza to finish. Archer turned to leave and practically ran over a fifth ensign. “Sorry. I didn’t see you Ensign...” Archer smiled. “Franklin, sir,” The young woman said, smiling. “Sorry I startled you, Captain.” “It’s okay.” “Can I help you, sir?” she asked “No. No.” Archer smiled. “I just stopped to get some supper.” Archer pointed to the cabinet with the PADD in his hand. She smiled, looking at the cabinet and then back at Archer. She smiled a little more. “I’m sure the pizza probably smells better, sir. Would you like some?” “Oh no. I wouldn’t want to impose. Thank you anyway.” “You wouldn’t be imposing, sir,” an ensign from the galley said. Archer turned, looking at the speaker. The four had stopped talking and were watching him. Archer’s stomach growled again in response to the wonderful smell wafting from one of the stoves. Archer smiled, looking at Ensign Franklin. She looked down, hiding her giggle behind a tight smile. She looked back up at Archer. “Are you certain you wouldn’t like some, sir?” she asked again. Archer laughed. “It does smell good,” Archer admitted. Ensign Franklin motioned to the galley. Archer walked back to the butcher’s block, watching an ensign quickly set a place for him. “What would you like to drink, sir?” the ensign asked. Archer looked at the glasses on the table. “Whatever you’re drinking.” “Very well, sir.” He turned and left the galley to get the drink from the resequencer. A timer went off and one of the ensigns got up to get the pizza. Archer watched him pull out a cookie sheet and was rushed back to the many times his father had taken him to a pizzeria on the beach. Archer looked down at the butcher’s block, remembering the taste of the hot bread and toppings and the stringy mozzarella cheese. He still loved to wrap the cheese around his finger and pull it off with his teeth. “This looks awesome, Ken,” one of the ensigns said, bringing Archer back to the present. The cookie sheet had been sat down with the pizza on it sliced into even squares and the five were using forks and knives to set a slice of pizza on their plates. Archer picked up his own slice and cut off a bite. The crust was thicker and chewier than he’d ever had, but it melted in his mouth with the rest of the ingredients on the pizza. “Do you like it, sir?” an ensign asked. Archer looked at him. “Yes. Did you make this?” “Yes, sir,” the man smiled. Archer smiled, “You did a great job, Ken.” “Thank you, sir.” Archer took another bite, noticing the five had become quiet. Archer looked down at the pizza on his plate. “How often do you five do this?” Archer asked them “We’ve arranged to do this the first Monday of every month, sir.” “Do you always make pizza?” “We hadn’t planned on it. We just thought that since it was the first time, and we all really wanted pizza...” “It was a good idea,” Archer said, smiling. Again they were silent. Archer guessed they were being respectful having their captain in their company and that made him feel uncomfortable for having intruded on their fun. “Okay, here’s the deal, if you five can stop calling me sir for just this meal,” Archer smiled at the five. “And relax, I’ll cook next month.” “Here, here!” Ensign Franklin said, lifting her glass. She lowered it before the others lifted their glass. “So...what do we call you?” “Jon, but not late for dinner,” Archer joked, raising his glass. The six toasted to the deal. And with that the tone of their supper changed to friends having pizza and laughing. |
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