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Guest Laarell

"Attraction Grows, II"

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was setting, tinting the sky a pale crimson. A faint breeze rustled the monastery's plants -- natural airflow seemed a luxury, now -- and Laarell had to smile at the scent of flowers, which was growing pleasantly familiar by now.

 

She was quiet as she approached the pretty worker in the gardens, smiling as she tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Meressa?"

 

The Bajoran started slightly, glancing up. "Oh -- Laarell." She smiled, dusting the damp earth from her fingers. "You startled me."

 

"Sorry," she replied. "I suppose I move too softly. Near the end of your work?"

 

"Just about," she answered, sitting back on her heels. "Can't do much after dark, anyway."

 

"Mm... true. No artificial lights. I don't know, I was getting hungry... and I figured a local might know better places to eat than I."

 

Meressa looked up at her, tilting her head to one side with a tiny smile. "Are you inviting me to dinner?"

 

Her eyes danced. "Yes.'

 

"I accept." She stood up, stretching the kinks from her back -- bending over the flowerbeds was hard on the low back. "Give me a moment to clean up and I'll be right along."

 

"I'll just be at the door, then," Laarell agreed pleasantly, and headed back the way she came with a little wave.

 

Meressa went inside and scrubbed the dirt off her hands and knees quickly, then ran a brush through her hair. Rejoining Laarell, she grinned. "So, dinner?"

 

"I think it's about that time. So -- somewhere in mind for dinner? It's your job, of course, to sell me on Bajoran delicacies to make sure I come back," she teased, gently.

 

"Of course, of course." Tucking her arm through Laarell's, she drew the Orion towards the transit stop. "How do you feel about spicy...?"

 

"I like spice," she readily volunteered. "I've yet to find something too spicy for my tastes. Maybe Bajor will change that, hmm?"

 

She laughed, boarding the tram. "I know a place that makes the best hasperat you've ever tasted," she said. "I'll warn you, though, it looks like a dive from outside."

 

"Better on the inside?" Laarell shrugged, grasping a handlebar as they moved towards the back. "I'll buy that."

 

"Much better." She leaned against the tram wall easily. "The owner's never bothered to fix up the outside after the Occupation; they had plenty of regular customers who didn't care."

 

"Been like that a while, then. A little bit... historic, too."

 

"A while," she repeated, thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose it has."

 

"I'd think your people would want to forget the Occupation. Move past it -- am I wrong?" she asked, curiously, tilting her head.

 

"No, not wrong." She fiddled with the tassels on her belt. "Just that it... resonates. If that's the right word."

 

"Ah." She nodded, then glanced at the map of the transit system. "How many stops?"

 

"Three more." Meressa motioned to the stop on the map. "Hope you don't mind the travel."

 

"I don't." She spared a teasing look aside at the Bajoran. "Not with pleasant company, at any rate."

 

"Well, then," she teased, "I'm sorry there isn't any."

 

"No, no!" Laarell protested, genuinely. "You're quite pleasant. And kind to take the time."

 

"My pleasure," Meressa replied. "The company is worth it."

 

The next stop came and passed, and Laarell watched out the darkening windows of the tram. "Any entertainment at the restaurant?" she asked, curiously.

 

She chuckled. "Nothing I'd really call 'entertainment'. They have a creaky old sound system they keep talking about upgrading."

 

"Ahh." She nodded. "Quiet, then, that'll be nice."

 

"Well, I didn't promise quiet..." Meressa's eyes were sparkling. "There's likely to be a lot of people talking... ourselves included?"

 

"Oh yes," she promised. The door chimed softly, and Laarell glanced up. "Our stop?"

 

"Yes." She hopped down to the street level, holding out her hand to help Laarell down. "It's that building, down the block."

 

"Ahh..." She stepped down after her, clutching her hand until she landed on the solid ground. Squinting off in the direction she'd motioned towards, Laarell nodding, understandingly. "Ahh."

 

"Told you it looked like a dump." Grinning cheerfully, Meressa led the way to the restaurant. "The food's worth it, though."

 

"Not a dump, necessarily..." Laarell followed tilting her head to scrutinize the establishment. "Well... uhm..." she stammered. "A nice dump."

 

She laughed aloud, tossing her head back. "It's better inside, I promise."

 

"Well, let's see the inside, then." They made their way to the door, and Laarell grinned at her. "Not embarrassed to be seen with me? You know what they say about Orions..."

 

"I thought that was just the men?" She pushed the door open, waving Laarell inside. "Or were you planning to pounce me?"

 

The Orion glanced at her for a long moment, and shrugged. "No comment. Yet."

 

Meressa grinned. The evening was looking to be very interesting.

 

"Seat ourselves?" she asked, motioning towards one less populous corner.

 

"Yes, they're very informal."

 

"Pleasant," Laarell commented. "Home-y." She pulled into the booth across from Meressa. "I'm going to let you order for me," she informed. "I trust you that much. Make it good." She grinned.

 

Meressa laughed, and when the waiter dropped two glasses of water on their table, she said, "Two house specials, and a bottle of springwine."

 

"So." Laarell grinned. "Last time I was in a restaurant, I got arrested for authorities thinking I was an escaped slave or such nonsense. Let's hope history doesn't repeat itself, hmm?"

 

"Well, I don't think anyone here will bother you," Meressa answered, "but I hope you're carrying some ID for the trip home."

 

"Starfleet," she assured. "Should be covered."

 

"That's good, then. What did the ones who tried to arrest you do when they found that out?"

 

"Whipped me. Threw me in a brig." Laarell grinned. "Long story, different reality."

 

Meressa's face was a picture. "Well," she said at last, after blinking several times, "we do have all evening..."

 

"Likely classified," she said, sadly. "Let's just say... it was a darker reality than ours. Very... human-centered."

 

"Interesting." Meressa paused as the waiter delivered their meals. "And they thought you were a slave?"

 

"Apparently all Orions are, there -- or a high number. Bajorans," she reassured, "as far as I could tell, were spared that."

 

"Because we look more human?" She took a bite of the hasperat, and closed her eyes in bliss.

 

A little more hesitantly, Laarell took a small bite, and grinned, quickly taking a second. "Gods that's good!" Then a third, and a rapid fourth before she remembered a question had been posed. "I think so -- the more human species are, the easier they're accepted. Makes sense, in a twisted way."

 

She nodded. "I suppose." Then, with a clear attempt to change the subject to lighter topics, she asked, "So, Starfleeter -- you must have interesting stories."

 

"Probably." Laarell leaned her elbow on the table, casually, resting her chin on her hand as she continued chowing down on the hesperat. "It's an interesting universe out there. So many species, so many people..."

 

"Planet life must seem very boring," Meressa sympathized, a little sadly.

 

"No -- not boring. Quieter. Peaceful." Laarell smiled, a little wistful, and tore her eyes from Meressa. "Tempting, too."

 

"Tempting?" She smiled a little bit.

 

"Well..." Laarell took a sip of the springwine, swirling it in her cup. "The ground's not moving. And... the air is fresh. And the gardens are outside!" She laughed a little. "And the people... they're not all crew that you have to work with, or command, or..."

 

"Or...?" There was a bit of a flirt in her tone now.

 

"Or have to stay professional with," she said, matter of factly, looking at Meressa over the rim of her glass, eyes back to dancing.

 

She sipped her wine calmly. "I can see where that would be a drawback."

 

"Oh, more than you know."

 

"Perhaps you could elaborate?"

 

"It's a lonely life on-ship when you get out of the junior ranks," she said, though without sounding horribly distressed about it.

 

Meressa watched her with mischievious eyes. "A shame."

 

"I suppose it's not the end of the world. At least it leaves me free to... indulge in the delicacies of planets I visit?" Laarell stared at Meressa unabashedly, tapping her fork to her plate lightly as if to reiterate her point, despite what her eyes were suggesting.

 

"Ah, I knew it," the Bajoran laughed. "A girl in every port, sailor?"

 

"Hardly," Laarell clarified mildly. "Despite the number of ports, I have to admit to being discerning..."

 

Draining the glass of springwine, Meressa considered how to reply. "I suppose I should be flattered..."

 

"I hope so," Laarell said, warmly, holding up the bottle. "More?"

 

"Please." She extended the glass.

 

She filled the Bajoran's partway, then hers, smoothing a few stray pieces of hair that'd fallen forward. "You're a talented and attractive woman, I won't lie. And... judging by the monastery, you seem to have a way with green things, too," the Orion remarked, innocently.

 

"I have been told I have a green thumb..." She considered her thumbs, then held them out beside Laarell's arm.

 

"Well then," she said, catching her hands and gently stroking the soft skin. "It would seem we're meant for one another." She smiled devilishly at the other woman.

 

Meressa hesitated for a moment, then gave in to impulse. "My place isn't too far -- want some coffee?"

 

"I think that'd be good after the wine. Give me a chance to... see more of Bajor before I call it a night." Laarell gave her a non-expecting smile.

 

"Well, then." She raised a hand to flag down the waiter.

 

"A good choice in food," the Orion complimented, pleasantly, finishing up a few traces of the hasperat. "I might have to come back tomorrow."

 

"It'll still be here. Check, please," she said to the waiter, who vanished again.

 

 

* * *

The apartment Meressa led her into was clean, neat, and obviously a gardener's. Plants lined every windowsill, and hung from baskets that would catch the light. The human-oriented area was a mix of furnishings whose only real theme seemed to be their comfort.

 

She blushed a little, shutting the door. "I'm not much of an interior decorator..."

 

"But I see that green thumb at work again," she teased, and inhaled. "So... fresh. I can't get over planet air as it is -- the plants just make it even better."

 

"That's just biology," Meressa demurred, moving to the small kitchenette. "Sit down, please -- make yourself comfortable."

 

She watched the graceful Bajoran girl, sitting on the surprisingly comfortable couch, relaxing into it. "Thanks."

 

"Coffee in a moment." She flicked on the percolator.

 

Laarell nodded, looked at the Bajoran's indoor garden, and pointed to a lovely crimson flower in a basket near the couches. "That one suits you, I think," and the Orion pointed at it. "So beautiful."

 

Meressa glanced at it. "Thank you," she answered, blushing a bit. She pulled two cups out of a cabinet. "You like plants?"

 

"We usually have greenery in common." She grinned. "I kill anything with leaves, though, it seems. A little more luck with needles, but... that was a long time ago."

 

"A long time ago?" Bringing over the coffee, she settled at the other end of the couch. "Cactii?"

 

"Academy days. Yes, a cactus." She sighed, smiled. "Now, that was a cactus. Saguaro."

 

"You kept a Saguaro cactus? Aren't they a bit... large?"

 

"Wasn't fully-grown." She frowned. "But it was... growing quickly. Which is why I couldn't bring it on my first posting... but. At any rate. I did manage to keep it alive. Maybe it was the part where it didn't have to be watered,"

 

"They are rather forgiving that way." She chuckled.

 

"Low-maintenance pets seem to suit me, I suppose. Give me something I can care for once a night -- or week -- and I don't care if it's venomous; it's a perfect match." Laarell chuckled.

 

"I don't much care for the venomous type," Meressa said, sipping her coffee.

 

"Ah. I didn't really ask for it. More of a surprise gift."

 

"What's "it"?"

 

"Spider. Big. From earth."

 

"Oh," she answered. "Who gave you that?"

 

"A Horta. An over-helpful one that thought I was lonely."

 

Meressa considered that for a few moments. "A rock gave you a spider. It makes sense, I suppose."

 

"In a strange 'this is the universe we live in' way," Laarell concurred.

 

"Yes." A pause. "You haven't touched your coffee. Changed your mind?"

 

"Oh, no." She took a few sips, and grinned. "You have me spinning yarns, Meressa..." Then she nodded. "And this is good coffee."

 

"Thank you. I do love to cook -- if brewing coffee can be called 'cooking'." A small laugh.

 

"When it tastes good... yes. Otherwise... there are a few other verbs that could be applied. In this case, yes. Cooking." Laarell sipped more from the mug, and was quiet for a few moments.

 

Meressa slid closer to Laarell on the couch, and leaned over. Her lips found the Orion's, a gentle brush of a kiss, then drew away. "Speaking of things that taste good..."

 

Laarell's hands tangled in the Bajoran's dark hair, and she grinned, pulled Meressa closer, and deepened that kiss.

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::popcorn:: Oooo! A shore leave fling - nicely done.

 

Now is this the Orion version of a "girl in every port"? :-D

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