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April 11th [Closed]
Apr. 17th, 2012 07:22 amShepard and Bashir had breakfast every day. It had taken some time for Shepard to develop a daily routine aboard the ship. At first, when she thought that her tenure on the ship was only temporary, she didn't bother with establishing a schedule. But as time passed and it became increasingly more clear that she was going to be here for the long term, she found herself craving some regularity.
Her morning push-ups were the first thing she’d added to her schedule. One day, she started doing them every morning. Then breakfast at eight AM became a regularity. And later, a morning jog around the station. It wasn't long before her mornings were fully scheduled away. And while others might not find much comfort in the same old routine, Shepard did, because it gave her some sort of purpose. And that made living on the Prosperina a little more bearable than it would have been otherwise.
Little had changed about her schedule since its establishment, but Bashir's inclusion in her morning routine was one of them. The two of them had both been early risers unlike many of the other ship's denizens, so it seemed natural that they ate breakfast together. Occasionally, she'd stop by the science labs later in the day and talk with him and Baltar. Sometimes they'd bump into one another in the halls. And every now and then, they'd decide to watch spy vids together in the rec room. Or try to, anyway. Most of the time it ended in failure: either the vid would be a completely different genre altogether or it'd be in some alien language that neither of them knew.
But it wasn't common for either of them to drop by the other's room -- especially in the evening. It wasn't like they couldn't; they just didn't. So when Shepard makes an appearance in Bashir's room on the evening of the 11th, it's probably unexpected.
And so are the two cupcakes in her hands as well.
When Bashir answers the door, Shepard is ready with an explanation: "It's my birthday." A fact she neglected to mention earlier this morning. "I'm not really big on birthday celebrations, but I thought surviving long enough to hit the big 3-0 was worth a cupcake or two."
She offers Bashir one of the cupcakes. It's chocolate with a thick, soft gray-brown icing with caramel drizzled on top. A stick of white and dark chocolate swirled together in a candy cane pattern extends out of the icing, a tasty garnishment.
In short, Shepard really seemed to hit the lottery at the replicator tonight.
"And please," she says, lifting up her free hand as if to stop him. "No singing."
Her morning push-ups were the first thing she’d added to her schedule. One day, she started doing them every morning. Then breakfast at eight AM became a regularity. And later, a morning jog around the station. It wasn't long before her mornings were fully scheduled away. And while others might not find much comfort in the same old routine, Shepard did, because it gave her some sort of purpose. And that made living on the Prosperina a little more bearable than it would have been otherwise.
Little had changed about her schedule since its establishment, but Bashir's inclusion in her morning routine was one of them. The two of them had both been early risers unlike many of the other ship's denizens, so it seemed natural that they ate breakfast together. Occasionally, she'd stop by the science labs later in the day and talk with him and Baltar. Sometimes they'd bump into one another in the halls. And every now and then, they'd decide to watch spy vids together in the rec room. Or try to, anyway. Most of the time it ended in failure: either the vid would be a completely different genre altogether or it'd be in some alien language that neither of them knew.
But it wasn't common for either of them to drop by the other's room -- especially in the evening. It wasn't like they couldn't; they just didn't. So when Shepard makes an appearance in Bashir's room on the evening of the 11th, it's probably unexpected.
And so are the two cupcakes in her hands as well.
When Bashir answers the door, Shepard is ready with an explanation: "It's my birthday." A fact she neglected to mention earlier this morning. "I'm not really big on birthday celebrations, but I thought surviving long enough to hit the big 3-0 was worth a cupcake or two."
She offers Bashir one of the cupcakes. It's chocolate with a thick, soft gray-brown icing with caramel drizzled on top. A stick of white and dark chocolate swirled together in a candy cane pattern extends out of the icing, a tasty garnishment.
In short, Shepard really seemed to hit the lottery at the replicator tonight.
"And please," she says, lifting up her free hand as if to stop him. "No singing."
