“No giant shipgirl-eating lobsters tonight, maybe next week.” The cruiser laughed at my sheepish expression. “Nah, it’s okay.“ Cleveland was looking out into the dark herself now. “Sorry, I’m… not good at not worrying stupidly.” That was underselling it rather dramatically. Yeah, that makes more sense,” I admitted. She just called in when she took her latest GPS fix a little while ago.” “Everyone’s fine, the clouds just rolled in earlier than Monty figured and she took a wider course home to get more water under the keel in the dark.
#Diluvion yamato crab code#
“I’ve got a radio in my head, you goof, and CL phoned home,” Cleveland reminded me merrily, using the hull code to imply her sister was the one calling in. The light cruiser shook her head, not offended, and I got the impression she was rolling her eyes at me. “How do you know that?” I asked her a bit more sharply than strictly necessary. “Is that what’s bothering you? That they’re out of touch?” she asked, punching me in the upper arm. “It’s stupid but I keep thinking I’ve jinxed them, they’re in trouble and we don’t know it.”Ĭleveland looked at me and then laughed, shaking her head. But I keep thinking, Abyssals are out there, why not a giant ship-breaking lobster?” Looking at the dim glow of the city of Portland across the Fore River, I leaned forward. Some nonsense about ship-breaking lobsters, too. “I keep thinking about something I told her this morning – mind Montpelier or the lobsters will get you. I gave her a glower, the significance of the word ‘original’ not registering in my dudgeon, before I sighed. “On the original schedule, yeah.” The blonde cruiser nodded. She wandered over to my place a little while ago and I’d promptly gone right back outside. “What’s eating you?” the light cruiser asked, one eyebrow arched. Cleveland glanced up at me from where she was leaning against it. The memory of that comically horrible story rang in my mind that evening as I paced on my balcony. “Be careful anyway and mind what Montpelier says or the lobsters will get you,” I teased her, telling a ludicrous story of ship-breaking lobsters that had her laughing. “Besides, I don’t need to worry about any bombers, you Americans are on my side now!” “Yeah, I will.” Then her lips quirked up into her usual cocky grin. Looking back at me, her purple eyes unusually solemn, Ariake nodded. There’s no coral reefs but I think there’s plenty of rocks,” I added, uncertain whether I should add that last part. “The Bay of Fundy’s up near the border on those maps I was looking at. The name Scranton jogged my memory – she was the newcomer heavy cruiser, never completed in her first life. “Montpelier’s taking the fleet destroyers – that means me, Heywood, and Kidd – and Scranton out on a run up to the Bay of Fundy and back, to get a look at the local landmarks again and see how we “new kids” do operating at night,” Ariake explained with a shrug. “So what are you up to today?” I asked her with a glance. I chuckled, shaking my head, and set to making bacon in the skillet, retrieving some grapes from the fridge and jotting down a reminder to get more fruit at the store. “You don’t have to make me bacon to go with the waffles, either,” Ariake answered cheerfully. “You know you don’t have to cook,” I pointed out idly, getting some bacon out of the fridge and turning the eye on. After consulting the instructions, she set to work making the batter. There should be a thing of waffle mix.”Īriake kept looking, then crowed victoriously, “Found it!” She dropped it onto the counter before gingerly lifting the waffle iron and stepping down, prize in hand. They’re not quite the same but I don’t know the differences. “Hmm.” Ariake drew the noise out then started skimming the cabinets.
If we were going with the waffles, I was going to want something a little less gooey. “It’s a heated press, basically,” I answered her, getting some ice water. I snickered at her, clearly she was used to my sense of humor after a week, and she grinned back at me. I glanced up at her but before I could give the obvious reply, she pointed out with a wave of her hand, “Yeah, it makes waffles, skip to the next part.” “It’s a waffle maker,” I explained, getting a glass out of the cupboard and rinsing it, just in case. When she noticed me coming into the kitchen, she glanced over her shoulder, then pointed. She was wearing a casual “knock about the house” sort of outfit under her frilly apron, a fairly loose medium blue T-shirt suitable for cooking over a pair of athletic shorts, and was giving the waffle maker she’d discovered on the top of the shelves a thoughtful look from the top of the small stepstool I kept in the kitchen. The next morning, Ariake and I were both up and awake at about the same time.
0 kommentar(er)
