ten_fwd | (no subject)

After being dismissed from Sickbay, Sean Slater has been taken to spending time by himself. Mostly to digest what's happened, but partly because he didn't really want to interact with anyone.

He's wandered the corridors of the areas of the Enterprise he's been allowed in, familiarised himself with the technology he has access to as best he can figure it out. But, still... it's a bit... odd.

That's the best way he can think to describe it.

He finds himself in Ten Forward, and moves, almost automatically, to the bar, lowering himself into a stool, ordering tea. He stops the bartender from listing off a whole ream of teas, telling him, rather tersely, that he just wants normal, English Earth tea.

While he's waiting he closes his eyes, opening and closing the fingers on his right hand. They still felt cold sometimes... he still felt cold. It was all in his head, of course, the sickbay here was... Well... Amazing. All symptoms of his hypothermia were gone.

Except from what was in his head.

Sighing, and thanking the bartender, he wraps his hands around the mug for a few minutes, before taking a sip.

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"Long day?"

The young woman behind the counter had watched the exchange with mild curiosity, sipping from her own iced drink. She herself had found herself wandering in earlier, looking for something to do.

Of course, the answer wasn't much. So she'd just have to butt into other people's business.

"Long bloody month."

This is grunted back as he takes another sip of tea, trying to relax himself, let the drink remind him of home...

...Strangely, it wasn't working.

"I think I feel the same way."

If only the relaxing powers of beverages worked on androids. Maybe she isn't trying the right one. She replaces her tea into the spot in the wall, and orders a hot cocoa instead.

"So, you are one of Q's guests as well?"

Q... Stupid name, if you asked Sean. He's never even seen the bastard.

He just nods, taking another drink. His free hand flexes, feeling that ice creeping in. It quickly gets stuffed into a pocket of his jeans to warm up.

Okay, so he's not very talkative, that's never stopped Lal before. And at least she's observant enough to see his nod, and his odd hand movements.

"What is wrong with your hand?" She asks this rather plainly, and with complete disregard for tactfulness.

A glance up, his hand pulled from the pocket and laid out on the bar again.

"Nothin'. Ain't nothin' wrong with my 'ands..."

Lal's become so much better at picking up on social cues... Except when they denote that the other person doesn't want to continue a line of conversation.

"Not both, just that one. Your movements suggested discomfort."

And said hand might tighten into a loose fist. It's owner takes another gulp of tea, before it flattens out again.

No point getting stressed... he decided to stay here, after all.

"I'm just a bit cold, s'all."

"I know that the environmental controls are functioning correctly."

In fact, it is 72.1F inside Ten Forward. Not that anyone usually wants that level of detail.

"The temperature should be optimal for human comfort. Maybe gloves would help?"

A few moments pass uninterrupted for Sean, before a small plate is set next to his mug. One small cake, and one small biscuit, easy to recognize despite not being what is common where he likely comes from.

The woman who set the plate down is medium-build, rich flawless skin and dark eyes, wearing orange and smiling kindly. It's her turn to relieve the current bartender.

"I thought you could use something to go with your tea."

A glance down at them, then back up at the woman who gave them to him. She's treated to an almost hostile look, but he seems to relax a bit.

"Thanks."

It's mumbled, but it's a reaction, at least. A positive one. Mostly, because Guinan seems to have been the only person who's... well, understood. She hasn't pestered him, asked him questions...

If she's bothered by the reaction she gets, she doesn't show it.

"You're welcome."

(Save for, maybe, a little singsong quality to her voice. It's not sarcasm, it may even be humor.)

She picks up a rag and wipes crumbs off the bar, not pressing him for anything more. In most cases it's better to let someone come to her with their problems, not the other way around. There's obviously a lot on Sean's mind, and being interrogated by strange people on a flying ship is probably not his idea of a comforting gesture. She glances up at him, that same patient smile still on her face.

"Let me know if I can get you anything else."

And a nod. He looks up, meeting her gaze, the first time he's done so since he came in. He nods again. "I will... thanks."

And back down, cake and tea. It seemed so normal. He takes a moment, before looking back up to get Guinan's attention.

"Uh... Actually, there is something."

There, that wasn't so bad, was it? He has nice eyes.

She had traveled only a few steps as she cleaned, wanting to be close by, so she puts her rag aside and comes back over to Sean's seat.

"How can I help?"

"Well, uh." And he looks down again, messing with his cup. "I ain't sure if this is 'ow it's supposed to go, but... You got any jobs goin' behind the bar? I might not look it, but I got some experience workin' in clubs back 'ome, and... Well, I mix a mean cocktail."

He looks up at that last point, offering a smile.

"An' don't worry. I got a better attitude I save for the punters."

"Do you?"

Now the real smiles come out.

She folds her arms and leans against the bar, looking him over for a moment.

"Tell you what. How about we switch places and you can show me what you've got?"