Twofold Longing

[Stefan]

- "You know that this is starting to sound quite like an interrogation, right?" - Brahms crossed his arms over his chest, looking firmly at Cerys. She had an inquisitive pair of eyes that he never faltered to entertain, curiosity was one of her traits he adored.
- "And I should care because?"

She was playing with the Attle leftovers as they spoke, but eventually brushed her hands together and laid back, one arm over the rail, overlooking the visitors downstairs.

- "You know how life goes around here. New people every morning, new protocols every night, the occasional illegality aboard. I find it incredibly amusing, but I know playing host isn't your thing."
- "That, you do."
- "So, c'mon. Give me something new. What have you been up to?"
- "Nothing exceptional. We are still running supplies to Freeport 8 and Planet Nuremberg." - He was speaking almost in a monotone. - "The Seraphim have be-"
- "Oh for hell's sake Allan." - She immediately cut him short. - "Stop groveling and tell me something exciting!"

Brahms gave her a blank look, not expecting the reaction.

- "You sound like dad, but twenty years younger and with half the amount of money. If you do not speak about something that puts a smile on your face right now, I'm going to drag you to the VIP area and lock you in there for a month before you see sunshine again." - Laughter, at this point, was moments away from full exposure.
- "Alright, impertinent you. I'm building a ship."

An eye to eye moment - and then both of them shared an honest smile. Closing one of her hands and both of her eyes for a moment, Cerys rejoiced.

- "Yes! See!" - She was pointing at him with a straight finger. - "That's what I am talking about, you Fellknäuel: Stuff that makes you happy."
- "Cezz..."
- "No. Come on. Tell me about her - and why is it a thing that I wasn't even consulted?"

The world could very well turned sour at this point and probably neither of them would have noticed. In fact, right outside, an OSC Scout party was clashing with a pair of Corsairs - in full view from the window they were sitting at, no less. A great number of people had moved over to watch it, but that was only noticed when the noise from their disturbance sprawled over the conversation. Moving to a table further away, the pair now could only hear the surprise gasps and cheers occasionally coming from their general direction.

- "Look, I wasn't trying to keep you in the dark or anything - it's just that I am trying to do this on my own." - Brahms started explaining, a tad apologetic. - "But, to be perfectly honest, a lot is still being planned, and I certainly could use your help on some areas."
- "Oh, inner decoration! My poison!" - She clapped silently, but expectantly.
- "Well, yes, but please control your urges." - Brahms let a gentle laugh escape, knowing far too well that if she started speaking about color combinations and clothing choices she would lose him. - "I promise I will send you the details via comm."
- "Do not make me beg, Allan Brahms Fawkes."

He chuckled, convinced, and reached for a small datapad inside his shirt pocket. Placing it on the table, it took a few seconds after a simple command for a small hologram - expertly coded by Hex - to start floating in front of them.

- "I know that design... Bretonian, Serenity is the name, isn't it?" - He nodded. - "It's a simple one - and the style suits you. I like it."

She was browsing the specifications written by him and his team, as well as his personal notes as to what was desired to be aboard and what wasn't.

- "Anfänge. You always have to sound poetic, don't you... Cargo related nonsense, which is completely gibberish for me... ah, finally, living quarters. Let's see here..."

As she overlooked the schematics suggested by the project, a moment of silence washed over Brahms. An all too familiar calm he did not feel in a long while, as if everything he had planned to that point had no chance of failure. This sudden, optimistic wave made him realize that indeed there was something wrong with him.