milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's been a long day.

A long week, actually.

(Gaeta won't even talk about what the past month's been like.)

Not having something to occupy his hands and mind -- a report, a stack of notes, even just a pen and paper -- feels awkward enough that Gaeta's taken to folding a small fleet of paper airplanes at his table. Being made out of napkins, all of them are too wobbly to fly, but that's not exactly the point; the point is to stay alert, stay awake, and do anything but sit around doing nothing.

...Even if it's much more likely that any alertness Gaeta currently possesses comes more from the three empty mugs rimmed with coffee stains, not the slowly massing collection of floppy aircraft.

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"I can keep you busy if you don't mind a bit of gardening and mud."

Gaeta suspected that was where the conversation was headed. She's in charge of harvests and plants, after all.

And while he could protest that he doesn't know much about gardening beyond "plant, water, and hope something sprouts in a couple of weeks"...it sounds a frakload better than what he's resigned himself to doing at the moment.

The faint twitch of a smile reappears. "No, I don't mind," he says, sliding out of his chair. "Give me a moment?"

"Of course."

A twitch is the start of a smile and she will get a laugh out of him somehow.

True, the bar does have a waitstaff (...composed of rats), but Gaeta would rather not leave a huge mess for them. He gathers as many of the planes as he can before heading toward Bar, wadding them up into an outsize ball as he goes.

One brief inquiry, one new set of clothes, and five minutes spent down the hallway leading to the bathrooms later, Gaeta reemerges with his usual set of civvies neatly folded under one arm, wearing a T-shirt and a heavy pair of green pants. He leaves the clothes with Bar before returning to the table.

"All right," he says to Demeter.

(To his further credit, dressing down to this extent is not evoking a typical air of mild self-consciousness from him.)

She beams at him and takes his hand to lead him through the Front Door into her garden. Everything that can bloom is and the air is heavy in these last days of Summer,

"Good, some weeding will you good and then some pruning and we'll have a good solid dinner later and put some meat on your bones."

"I'm eating just fine, I swear," he protests, though it sounds good-naturedly resigned more than anything.

Gaeta lets her lead him along. The heat and humidity, while not entirely unexpected, take some adjusting; it takes just as much to adjust to the sight of so many thriving plants.

It's a much nicer adjustment, though.

Demeter and Kore's garden is huge since they've had centuries to tend it and stretches off in the distance,

"Fine is not good enough, you should be eating wonderfully. Now I need you to pick all of the tomatoes that are ripe and put them into that basket. We'll eat them later."

Pointing out that "eating wonderfully" doesn't apply to humanity at large anymore isn't going to get him anywhere, he knows.

Maybe he'll take some of the food back to New Caprica. Gaeta's pretty certain she won't object.

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a nod, picking up the basket she indicated.

...This is probably going to take a while, judging by the sheer size of the garden.

The tomato patch should be manageable if he takes his time as Demeter moves to start picking peppers and squash, the squash especially are trying to take over. So every once in a while, she scolds one of the plants and it goes back to its place.

Quickly enough, Gaeta settles into a comfortable rhythm: checking, gathering, moving on, focusing just enough to give the work a nearly meditative quality. He sets down the basket just long enough to roll up the T-shirt's sleeves to his shoulders.

As he does, he sneaks a glance at Demeter as she scolds a plant back into place. It's such an absurd sight, and simultaneously so fitting, that he can't help but chuckle quietly as he retrieves his basket.

She hears the chuckle though isn't sure of the reason and smiles at him before tossing a lovely green pepper his way,

"Eat that."

He may not have flown a Raptor since getting his junior wings re-certified right after the attacks, but Gaeta still has decent enough reflexes: he catches the pepper one-handed without dropping the basket, and with only a moment's surprise to show for it.

He examines it, shrugs, and says, "Thank you," before taking a bite.

...Wow, says his expression.

Edited 2009-08-23 03:46 (UTC)

"Also you are allowed to sneak a few tomatoes, there's more than enough and part of the fun of picking is you get to eat along the way. Tell me what your favorite fruit or vegetable is."

"Oranges," he says.

The only reason it isn't more immediate and decisive is because he has to swallow a mouthful of pepper first.

"Gods," and another small, almost soundless laugh as he moves to the next plant, "I don't think I've had fresh oranges since even before the attacks."

"We'll go to the orchard next. I think we still have some and you can try a few types too. This is a wonderful place to grow blood oranges."

That earns a curious glance.

"I don't think I've ever had those," he remarks.

"Then you should have one clearly."

"What are they like?"

He adds a few more tomatoes to the basket, nesting them against one another in a miniature pyramid.

"They're a little bit tarter and their color is deep red, they're quite beautiful."

Gaeta smiles, just a little. "I'd be glad to see them," he murmurs. A beat; the smile treads closer to a smirk. "And try one, of course."

She takes a look in his basket,

"I think we have enough for now. Now we'll head to the orchard."

More than enough, he almost wants to say; it certainly looks like it could feed more than just the two of them.

(It wouldn't surprise him if she already knew he was planning to ask if he could take some food back home.)

With a nod, he follows her deeper into the garden, quietly breathing in the multitude of smells. As he glances her way, noting the threads of silver in her hair, he asks, gently, "So how have you been?"

"Well enough, the days have been beautiful and there has finally been some rain."

Soon the plants change from vegetables to trees covered with fruit and hanging down above them.

"More Milliways' doing than yours, I hope."

That's a little softer, but no less gentle. Gaeta lifts his head toward the tree branches.

"Just life being life, things will pass I think and get better."

They're currently among the apples and moving through towards all the citrus.