“Do you remember that time we hid Maksha’s Bolian fertility idol? The one he said was for research.” Bale offered a conversational olive branch across the small gap as she raised a hand and summoned the perpetually ready Davin, who approached with a small tray with fresh fruity cocktails.

“Oh, I remember.” Neveah grinned. She also remembered that – back then – they had thought of Maksha as either lascivious or lethargic, and somehow got it into their heads that the former was caused by the idol. “We were a little puerile back then, weren’t we?”

“I still think he’s got ulterior motives.” Bale smiled wryly as she lifted another fruity concoction from a proffered tray, the earlier awkwardness momentarily dismissed. She stretched her legs into the shallow pool, the dark scar across her upper thigh peeking out beyond the base of her floral-patterned robe.

With a long slurping sip of the drink, she danced a tiny contented flutter, tiny waves lazily rolling across the crystal clear waters. When the announcement had come down for shore leave, Bale had been worried she wouldn’t be able to remember how to relax. To her pleasant surprise, it was quite simple when one finds oneself submerged in warm waters with a fruity drink and good friends.

“Remind me again why we don’t just do this all the time?” She mused as a large ornamental lily on the other side of the pool rolled in the unexpected tide.

“Hide people’s fertility idols?” Nevaeh joked, and gestured for Bale to let her try the drink. Casperian Sunrise. Or Sunset. Something with sun in it, anyway.

Bale tilted the tall class towards Nevaeh, the long curling straw reaching unsteadily towards her lips. Surprised at the unexpected amount of focus required, she piloted the end into the woman’s waiting mouth and ladned it on her waiting tongue.

“Well, sort of.” Bale held the glass aloft as Nevaeh began taking long slurps. “Just hanging out. It doesn’t have to be fly here, fix that, defuse this, defend those. Maybe we should just make more of a fuss about not doing anything.”

As the surface of the orange liquid began to fall worryingly low in the glass, Bale tugged sharply away from the other woman. The drinks might be free, but that didn’t mean she had to share the whole thing. A clatter of the straw against the glass cut through the quiet of the pool as the tall beaker returned to her chest, absent one long straw that remained fixed within Nevaeh’s tight lips.

“We should, shouldn’t we?” It was a rhetorical question. Nevaeh herself barely found the time to relax, although even a ship like the Daedalus had ample opportunity to do so. So, perhaps, it was more accurate to say that it never seemed to be a priority. “There’s always the holodeck,” she reminded.

“We can cross the stars Nevaeh,” Bale frowned as she patted the side for another straw, the hulking muscles of seemingly unwilling or unable to assist her. “I don’t think it’s too unreasonable to make a date to go and actually experience something in reality.”

Bale’s hand alighted on a long metal straw, which she dropped into the glass with a satisfying plop of liquid.

“Maybe I should ask Kurt to go on holiday. Maybe that’s what we need to get things going properly.” She mused momentarily between shallow sips of the drink before shaking her head dismissively. “Maybe you’re right, there must be better options on Daedalus than that pair of idiots.”

“Sure.” Nevaeh winked. “And if he doesn’t want to… well. You can always invite me instead”