Late Night Snacks

Writers: Mirren, Yvonne
Date Posted: 15th November 2015

Characters: Jaffra, Ricker
Description: There aren't a lot of people in the dining cavern when you work late.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 2, day 8 of Turn 8

It was well past midnight when Ricker pushed away from his workbench and rubbed his eyes. This converter he was working on should _work_, but just wasn't. Whether it was something in the wiring, a too tight screw somewhere - it sure wasn't sand in the machinery since he'd just taken it all apart, cleaned it, and put it back together - but the flaming thing just wouldn't _work_.

Frustrated, he decided to take a break. He was hungry, anyway, having gotten lost in the task and worked through dinner. The Dining Cavern staff usually left food out for those working late, but it was always a gamble what you got. The Technician stretched his arms above his head and felt his spine pop as it straightened, then stood and headed to the Dining Cavern.

It was empty. Not many people ever saw it like this, save for the occasional dragonrider on the heights or some poor soul cursed with insomnia. And the Crafters- the ones truly dedicated to their Craft. Ricker headed over to where there was usually something left out and was startled when movement caught his eye-- someone else was up and headed the same way. He raised his hand in greeting when he recognized Journeywoman Jaffra. "Evening, miss."

She barely glanced up at him from her bowl of soup. "Evening," she said curtly. She recognized him, but that was of little consequence to her. She didn't really do 'friendly' at the best of times.

"Soup? That's it?" Ricker sighed as he surveyed the remains of the late-night buffet. There were some empty plates with cheese crumbs and a light whiff of sausage, and the bowls that usually held fruit were empty. "That's disappointing."

Her spoon stopped halfway to her mouth."I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Doesn't it bother you, on a hot night like this, to only have soup?" The Technician nodded at the soup tureen, which he noted was being heated by lanterns. That, at least, would be fixed soon enough. "It's hot, and I'm assuming you've been working late-- and there's _soup_?"

"I like soup," she replied. "It's not heavy enough to keep me awake all night." And everything looked old and cold.

Ricker shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose. But it would be nice to have _variety_. If I eat soup now," he said picking up a bowl in tacit acknowledgement that there was nothing else, "then I'll be sweating into my sheets all night. There should be variety for those of us up this late. What project kept you up, anyway?"

"I was making a gown." She lowered her spoon into her soup and toyed with an elusive floating vegetable. "The work was intricate and took longer than expected."

"Work for a client?" Ricker glanced over at her, imaging her in a gown. It wasn't hard; the Journeywoman was rather good looking, and the clothing she wore flattered both her figure and her complexion-- even at several candlemarks past midnight.

"Yes," she replied. "It's still not finished, but I got hungry." She hated to admit that she had to stop working for such a flimsy reason as needing to eat.

"Hopefully not due tomorrow-- er, today?"

"No. It's due in a month," she replied. "I like to be organised."

Ricker raised his eyebrows. It was one thing to pull all-nighters when there was a deadline, but usually that deadline was a little closer. Nobody liked being up past midnight working on something that could be put off until tomorrow. Except Jaffra, apparently. **And you.** Reluctantly he served himself a ladle of soup to quiet the rumble in his belly, then slid onto the bench opposite the Journeywoman. "Must be a complicated project. Or a big client. Who is it, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Many of my projects are complicated and none of my clients are bigger than another," she replied, which was really no answer at all. "I'm just - dedicated." In other words, she had no life outside work and might as well just keep working.

Ricker smiled. He knew what 'dedicated' meant. "So what are you missing out on tonight, sewing instead of...?"

She frowned. "Sleeping?" she said, as if the answer were obvious.

"Before that."

"There is no before that."

Ricker stirred his soup with his spoon. "Did you know that when the dimmer switch was modified twenty turns ago, it was because the Journeyman in question was obsessed with fishing?"

She stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's a story that we tell to Apprentices. Technicians have a tendency to get absorbed in their work and forget that inspiration doesn't come from a workbench."

"That depends on the workbench," she replied. If she was joking, it didn't show on her face.

He smiled anyway. "Just a thought. When was the last time you did something that had nothing to do with sewing, or keeping yourself fit enough to sew?"

Jaffra shrugged. "My work is everything to me. Everything I do comes back to it, one way or another."

"I can see that." Sadly. He stirred his soup again as his mind drifted back to his own problem, sitting on his own work bench. Maybe he ought to take his own advice. Sleep in, go for a morning swim...

"Is there anything wrong with being dedicated?" She asked, frowning at him.

"Hmm?" Ricker pulled his mind back to the woman in front of him from thoughts of the beach. "Depends who you ask. Me, I'm going to go swimming tomorrow morning. My converter will wait, and my mind will probably solve the problem for me while I'm doing something else entirely. It beats taking it apart again. Want to join me?" It was late, he was tired, and sometimes Ricker just said things anyway to see what people would do.

She gaped at him, mouth open. "I- I don't swim very well." The only time she went in water these days was to bathe.

"And there's no place to get better at swimming than here." Ricker shrugged. "If you're not up for it, that's fine. I just find that I work better when I swim. Maybe it would work for you, too." He threw in the last as bait. Jaffra had made it pretty clear that she wasn't going to do anything unless it related to her work.

"Maybe," she replied carefully. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt." What was the worst that could happen?

"That's the spirit! I'll meet you by the big rock at the east end of the beach at a candlemark past sunrise." Ricker stood, abandoning his mostly-full bowl of soup. He hadn't much wanted it anyway. "Don't be late," he told her, then turned and left the dining cavern with his hands in his pockets, whistling tunelessly. Even though he didn't really know her at all, he found himself looking forward to their morning meeting.

"All right." Once he'd gone, she wondered what the shells she's agreed to.

Last updated on the November 24th 2015

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Late Night Snacks