The Lion and the Unicorn
Posted on Wed Aug 21, 2019 @ 6:15pm by Lieutenant JG Camille Lévesque PhD & Lieutenant Nicole Anderson
Edited on on Thu Aug 22, 2019 @ 2:44am
3,817 words; about a 19 minute read
Mission:
Plaga Navis
Location: Nicole's Quarters
Timeline: 1830
Nicole wasn't pacing her quarters, so much as circling them making sure everything was perfect. Dishes were laid out, glasses set, a bottle of wine ready, and candles lit. She was wearing her favorite dress, had even touched up her face, and discovered her hair had gotten long enough to braid. Now all she needed was a chime.
The chime came once Camille arrived, her blonde hair made wavy and framing her face. She wore a tight black dress that hugged her figure and stopped mid-thigh, and a pair of high-heeled black shoes covered her feet. A small amount of makeup enhanced what was already there, though her red lipstick paired nicely with her gold-rimmed glasses. Though she and Nicole had had dinner a few times since they’d entered into a relationship, but they had been working so hard and such long hours that this was the first proper romantic candlelight dinner, and Camille was excited. And nervous. But mostly excited.
The door to Nicole’s Quarters opened and Camille grinned. “Bonsoir, mon amour.”
"Bonsoir et bienvenue," Nicole said, doing her best not to butcher the pronunciation. She stepped aside, letting Camille in and leaned in, giving her a kiss. "I'm so glad you made it," she said, grinning. "You look amazing."
Camille grinned back, white teeth behind red lips. “Thank you, and so do you. That dress is stunning!” The fact that Nicole was trying to speak her native tongue made Camille feel very special. She made a mental note to learn a few Rigelian phrases later.
Nicole beamed and pulled out a chair. "So, how was your day?"
“Long!” Camille admitted as she took the offered seat. “Merci. Worked with Thomas in the lab. Went back to the museum with T’Mira. And then the Captain disappeared, and the day got crazy. I don’t suppose you have anything for us to drink?”
"Oh! Yes, of course!" Nicole skipped off and grabbed a glass decanter and yanked out the stopper as she returned. She filled Camille's glass, and then her own, then set the bottle down. She went over to a warmer she'd set up on her counter and pulled the cover back, taking two heat pads and carrying the tray with two covered bowls over to the table. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought I'd try my hand at replicating some Earth dishes. I discovered this amazing food that humans have done the most amazing things with. It's called a 'poe-tay-toe'; have you heard of it?"
Camille couldn’t help but giggle. “Once or twice.” She intentionally suppressed her smile and adopted a most serious expression. “In my language, they’re called the apples of the Earth. And we love them dearly.”
Nicole laughed. "I think I'd prefer apples of the trees," she said. "But, I did some research on them and they have a fascinating history. Apparently, they used to be highly poisonous until Humanity got hold of them. In one part of the world, they were bred to stop producing the toxin and were domesticated. In another part of the world, the learned how to use nature itself to leech the poison out. Absolutely ingenious. But I thought we'd start with something a bit closer to home..." she pulled off the covers and grinned.
Camille’s eyes went wide as the food of her homeland, of her childhood, appeared before her. Potatoes, cut and prepared into French fries, smothered in gravy, though she couldn’t tell which kind, and topped with cheese curd.
The woman Camille loved had prepared poutine.
She lifted her glasses to wipe a tear from her eye. She got up from her seat, took Nicole’s face in her hands, and kissed her deeply.
Every horrible thing that happened that day melted away as Nicole felt Camille's lips on hers. She'd been so excited to find something from Camille's home she could serve, wanting to make the moment special, and feeling the success of her efforts filled her with emotion.
“You’re too good to me,” Camille said once the kiss broke. “I love you.”
"Not even close to 'too good'," Nicole assured her. "And I love you too." She smiled, her eyes watering, and took Camille's hands, squeezing them. "Don't let it get cold, though," she said, grinning.
Camille sat back down and picked up her fork. She speared a sopping wet piece of potato and a cheese curd and put them in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she savoured the experience. Yes, it was replicated, but Camille had had replicated poutine before and this tasted better. Nicole must have given the computer specific instructions. Amount of cheese, temperature and composition of gravy, how well cooked the fries were, etc.) Plus it was obviously made with love. “Mmm,” was the only sound she could let out.
Nicole beamed. "Not to brag, but I had to get a lot of details for that replicator pattern. I'm glad you like it." She took a few bites as well. "I take it this is something you had at home often? Or was it just for special?"
Camille let out a slight laugh. “Nicole, look at this food and tell me, would I look like this if I ate it all the time? Factor in that you know I prefer reading to working out.” She speared more fries, gravy, and curd. “Non, this was for things like day trips into the city. We might eat some after visiting a museum or a day of snow shoeing or skiing. When I left Québec, well prepared poutine helped me feel connected with home. What do you think of it?”
"The texture is interesting," Nicole said. "Frying something to crisp it, but then sogging it with a sauce seems counterproductive. Still, the flavors are good." She took a final bite and chewed thoughtfully. "I'd be interested in trying the non-replicated version." She smiled at the look of contentment on Camille's face, taking in every detail, her chin resting on her palm.
“We’ll definitely make you the real thing back on Earth,” Camille said. “The critical component is the cheese. Some people just shred cheddar or mozzarella and a true Québécois would rather die than call it poutine. One of our family’s friends would replicate the cow’s milk in its pure form and make curd from scratch. He’d supply shops all over, so we knew where to get the good stuff.”
Finally she stood up and cleared the plates, bringing another hot, steaming serving bowl, this one piled high with what looked like a hodgepodge of meat, greens and crumbled baked potato.
"Maggie gave me this idea," Nicole said, spooning it onto plates. "Roughly mashed potatoes, sausage and something called esca-roll. Seems to be a rather bitter green." She set Camille's plate down, served herself, then refilled their glasses and sat down. "So...tell me more about your family. I want to feel prepared when I meet these people. How about your sisters? What are they like?"
“My sisters!” Camille exclaimed. “Well, Renée is the eldest and she took Papa’s teachings about our culture and language to heart. She still lives in rural Québec. French teacher. A bit strict, but with nothing but love in her heart. She’s getting married in a few months actually.” She took a bite of the mash of potato, sausage meat, and escarole, and smiled at the mix of flavours. “C’est bon, ça! What did Maggie call it?”
"'That Mashed Potato Thing My Mother Always Made'," Nicole said, snickering.
Camille couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s also Mathilde, my little sister,” she continued. “She and I are six years apart, so as kids we weren’t close, but as we got older we became inseparable. When I moved to Ottawa to live with Matante Amélie, I was fourteen and she was eight. That was when we realized how much we loved each other. We would make efforts to talk all the time and see each other whenever we could. She spent summers with me in Nottingham and in Paris. And Oh, mon Dieu the trouble we got into once she turned eighteen. Never have I been more drunk than I have with my little Mathilde. And that girl was the best wing-woman I could ask for!” She grinned as fresh memories poured through her head. “I miss her. I miss them all. I really want you to meet Amélie too. More than anyone, I think she helped shape me into the woman I am today.”
"Then I owe her thanks," Nicole said, the brandy starting to warm her up a bit. "What's she like?"
She answered once she finished her next bite. “Kind. Warm. Insightful. She more than anyone else saw how badly my life needed change. I was fourteen and was suffering from depression. Papa couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand that it came from wanting — needing — to get out and experience the universe beyond where we came from. Amélie and I were always close and she must watched me withdraw deeper into myself. She knew I was interested in science and biology and space and suddenly I wasn’t interested in any of it anymore. I flitted between school and my bed, not really living in the moment.” She lifted her glasses to wipe a tear. “I have a distinct memory of walking out to the lake near our house one night and being tempted to go in and never come back."
Nicole felt her eyes get moist as well, knowing that feeling all too well. She'd never seen a zoo until she'd visited a Human colony. The animals there looked...cared for...but ultimately didn't seem terribly happy with their confinement. She understood why staying at home would hurt Camille. A lion couldn't be caged without harm.
"I didn’t know it then," Camille continued, "but Amélie was visiting and saw me leave that night. She confronted my parents and told them I was going with her. She enrolled me in a school in Ottawa, got me into English lessons, and took me to every museum on the planet. She nurtured the parts of me that had languished in small-town rural Québec. If I told her I was interested in something, we tried it together. She gave me advice on school and career, dating boys, dating girls.” She took another sip of her drink. “Papa taught me about where I came from, but she helped me find where I was going.” She sipped her drink again and then gestured to the glass. “What is this, by the way? It’s really good.”
Nicole shook herself slightly from the change in topic and wiped her eyes a bit, clearing her throat. "I um...it's a white wine from Alpha Centauri my father recommended. But I do agree, it is delicious. Of course, a drink is only as good as the company." She gave a smile and put her hand on Camille's, squeezing it gently.
Camille turned her hand and gave Nicole’s a squeeze back. She didn’t voice it, but she was glad that Nicole listened to a suggestion her father made. “I can’t wait for you to meet them all. I’m tempted to not send them anything and just beam to the front door without warning.”
"That might work at your home. Mine will want some warning so they can be there to greet and hug. I do want you to meet everyone there as well."
“I’ve met Harranipa and her family in the holodeck,” Camille said, “and I understand she’s practically a sister to you. Tell me a story of you two as kids.”
Nicole sat back and thought to herself. "Well..."
“But-but-but Mummy! Why do I have to go?” Nicole whined as she was strung along by the arm.
“Because, my darling, a good education is essential for a growing mind like yours,” Mina said, pulling her along.
“But my dollies are going to be lonely!” Nicole protested. “And what is Bear going to do while I’m at school?”
“Your dollies will have to have a tea party on their own, and they can invite bear to join them,” Mina said. “No more excuses.”
“I don’t see why I need to go to school now,” Nicole pouted.
“Angel,” Mina said, stopping and kneeling down to take Nicole’s face in her hands. “You cannot go through life without an education, ignorant and unaware of the universe around you.”
The wheels in Nicole’s head turned fast. “It’s worked for me so far,” she said matter-of-factly.
Mina blew air impatiently and stood up, pulling her daughter along again. That mouth she thought. “You are going to school, you are going to have a perfectly fine day, and when you come home, I’ll have cookies waiting for you.”
Nicole brightened at the prospect of cookies, her usual bribe, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight. “If I stayed home though, I could help make the cookies,” she wheedled. “We could do it together.”
“Nice try,” her mother said as they approached the First Year classroom. Nicole pouted and resigned herself to her fate. They were one of the last to arrive and as Nicole walked into the classroom, almost two dozen pixie-like faces turned to look at her. She shrunk back a bit, but her mother pushed her forward.
“Welcome, new First Year,” the teacher said, smiling at her. “My name is Miss Carrow, and you will be in my class this year! I’m so happy to meet you!”
Nicole smiled shyly at the woman, gripping her satchel.
“It’s fortunate you’re here because, as I’m sure you know, four girls and three boys is the ideal group for learning, and we have need of a fourth young lady right over there,” she said, pointing to a table with three boys and three girls and one empty chair. “Why don’t you go have a seat and meet your groupmates and enjoy some free-play time before we begin instruction?”
Nicole placed her satchel over the back of the empty chair and sat down. Her school uniform was the same as her classmates, but they were looking at her like she was dressed like a freak. She smoothed her shirt and her hair self-consciously and looked for her mother, but she’d already left. Nicole hadn’t had much practice socializing, but she smiled and waved.
“I like your hair,” one of the girls said.
“Thank you,” Nicole said, smoothing her small brown bob of hair self-consciously. “I just had it cut.
“Why are your ears weird?” a boy said, looking at her.
“They’re not,” she said defensively, frowning.
“Yes they are,” he said, then pointed at his ears, then the others. Nicole noticed how pointy they were, but didn’t say anything.
“Why is your skin so white?” another girl asked.
“Are you a human?” a boy asked.
“I heard Humans are weaker than Rigellians,” the third boy said.
“I heard that Humans are only kept in the Federation because Vulcans enjoy watching them pretend to be smart,” another girl said. She had a very snotty tone and queen bee attitude. The other two girls nodded in unison, like she’d just said something obvious, like the sky was teal.
“Are you smart?” the girl asked Nicole.
“Yes…” Nicole said, defensively, and not terribly confidently.
“Prove it. How much of the Doctrine of Lollo have you read?” she sassed.
Nicole felt like she was floundering. She hadn’t read it. Her mother said it was “tosh.” She had read several Flotter books, and even was attempting a chapter book. She’d already gone through some of the Second-Year Readers. But not that one particular book that seemed to be where the bar was set.
“I...haven’t read that,” she said.
“I knew it,” the girl sniffed. “Another dumb pas-kaluk in the city.”
The other students giggled and Nicole felt herself blushing. The rest of the day was them sneering at her, saying “pas-kaluk” and pointing at her.
When her mother came to pick her up, she stomped out of the building, an angry expression on her face. “I hate school!” she said as her mom shut the door on the hovercar. She spent the entire ride home complaining about how horrible her schoolmates were and how she never wanted to go back.
Mina thanked fate it was only orientation, and that the real school year didn’t start for another two days. She hoped Nicole would have time to calm down before then.
The weekend, however, did not help Nicole’s mood, and she came home the next school day just as upset. The day after, even more so. Mina finally became tired of “letting things settle down” and was ready to schedule a meeting with the teacher.
The night before the meeting, the chime to their apartment rang. Mina went to the door, curious to see who was there, and was surprised to see another mother with her daughter in tow.
“Good evening,” the woman said. “My name is Sarena. I believe your daughter attends class with my daughter, Harranipa?”
Mina’s response was drowned out by Nicole’s “hmph!” from the hallway. “I believe that confirms it,” she said.
Sarena looked down at her daughter. “It’s embarrassing to say, but my daughter has told me that she and her friends have been making things unpleasant for your daughter, and she’s here to apologize.”
“Please, come in,” Mina said, stepping aside. “Nicole! We have company!” A door slam was the response.
Sarena pulled Harranipa inside and pushed her in front. When no second child was forthcoming, Mina sighed. “She’s in her room, third door on the right. Your mother and I will stay here and talk.”
Harranipa nodded and walked down the hallway. She was nervous and slowed as she approached Nicole’s door. She knew she was at the right one, because it had the name “NICOLE” in rainbow-colored wooden letters.
She knocked politely and a shrill “go away!” responded. She opened the door anyway and stepped quietly inside, closing it behind her. The room was green like the forest around the city with trees painted on the walls. There were several small animals and birds Harranipa didn’t recognize painted there as well. On the far side of the room was a large bed with a filligree headboard, purple sheets and large purple pillows. Nicole was sitting on her bed with her back to Harranipa, a stuffed animal clutched in her arms, her shoulders shaking slightly and the sound of sniffling in the air.
“Hi…” Harranipa said, meekly.
Nicole spun around in surprise and wiped her eyes quickly. “I didn’t you could say come in,” she said.
“I know,” Harranipa said. “I’m sorry. My mommy told me I had to come apologize. I…” she struggled to remember the speech she’d been told to memorize. “I didn’t know that name was bad and I didn’t want to hurt you. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry.”
The strength and weakness of childhood is the tendancy to take things at face value. Nicole thought it over and said simply, “okay.”
Harranipa smiled and pointed at the stuffed animal in Nicole’s arms. “Your animal is cute.”
“His name is Bear,” Nicole said, holding him up. “He’s my friend.”
“He’s cute,” Harranipa said, climbing onto Nicole’s bed to get a better look. “What kind of animal is he?”
Nicole looked at her like she was the odd one. “He’s a bear….”
“What’s a bear?” Harranipa said.
“It’s an animal from Earth,” Nicole explained. “They’re big and strong and protect people when they’re scared or upset. Mommy says he is here to protect me.”
“From me?” Harranipa said, looking sad.
“Well….not anymore,” Nicole said. “He says he thinks you’ll be nice now.”
Her new friend smiled. “I’m Harranipa, by the way. Everyone calls me Harra.”
“I’m Nicole. I guess….you can call me...Nic?”
“I like Cole,” Harra said. “Easy to say.”
“Okay,” Cole said, smiling. “Hey do you want to try my new Flotter game?”
“Sure!” Harra said as they jumped off Cole’s bed.
A few minutes later, Mina and Sarena went to Nicole’s door to check on the girls, but heard them giggling and laughing together. The two women smiled at each other and shrugged and returned to their tea, happy the girls were getting along.
"And we've been best friends since," Nicole said, smiling.
Camille had to lift her glasses to wipe her eyes. “That’s beautiful, Nicole. Thank you for sharing that with me.” Having just finished her sausage-potato-escarole mash, she reached across the table and put her hand back on Nicole’s. “I can’t wait to meet her, and the others.”
"And I cannot wait to meet your family," Nicole said.
Camille started giggling. “I did have one question though. Is Harra’s son going to hit on me in real life too?”
"Oh for Goodness sake," she said, rolling her eyes and putting her palm over her face. "Evidently that boy is turning into his father. I can't promise he won't but I sincerely hope not," she said, laughing.
“Well, it was cute, so even if he does, it’ll make me smile.” She took another sip of the Centaurian white wine. “Now tell me, mon amour, what potato-based wonder have you produced for dessert? Or did you have something else in mind?” she added with a wink.
Nicole grinned. She'd had something planned, but suddenly wasn't in the mood for it. She stood up and pulled Camille to her feet. She grabbed her and pulled her close, kissing her hungrily. "Something else," she said when they broke apart for air. She grabbed Camille by the rear, pulling her close and up, holding her up against her and backing towards her bedroom.
Camille’s body melted into Nicole’s as she returned the kiss with equal hunger and ferocity. She ran one hand along Nicole’s spine while the others’ fingers ran through Nicole’s hair. When the kiss broke, she breathed heavily and stared deeply into her lover’s eyes as she was pulled backward slowly towards the bed. Words were no longer necessary between them as she let Nicole guide her to another wonderful night.
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