A Surfeit of Shorts

Anatolian Poison

A/N - written for the 'Good VS Evil' contest held by @FANTASCI.

A/N 2 - This  fic features a M/M relationship. ;D

I yawned my way into the hydroponics section of ISS Thanatos, body and mind weary from a long day spent in the surgical bay; it had been a particularly long and arduous shift, with a multitude of crew taken down by an alien form of food poisoning whilst taking shore leave. Despite the recent shower I'd taken, my skin still felt sticky and covered with bodily fluids that were not my own, and I vowed to myself that whenever I could get the chance, I would take another, my third since the end of my shift.

I took my time in wandering through the ISS Thanatos' botanical garden, breathing in the heavy scents of a myriad of flowers and fruit trees; both the flowers and trees provided morale for the crew whilst travelling through the coldness of space for months, even years at a time, creating a pocket, a veritable bubble of peace in a sometimes incomprehensible universe. The trees also provided food, from everything to peaches to apples, to shrubs and bushes bearing strawberries and blackberries. I stopped to pluck a peach from an overhanging branch, inhaling the softly fruity scent of it, whilst pressing my fingertips against the squishy fuzzy-skin-encased flesh of it. It was perfectly ripe and I knew that Coll would not mind me eating some of the fruit that he often watched over with the eye of an eagle. Collin Cormac was head botanist aboard the Thanatos, and also my husband; I liked to think that that gave me some special dispensation over all other crew members, when partaking of the fruit. Rations were strictly controlled, as the food was meant to last the crew the entirety of the Space Station's current mission, and the fruit was meant to supplement the replicated stuff, and the packages of hydrated foods that we all were required to eat.

I pressed deeper into the botanical garden, wondering where Coll had hidden himself; normally his kind, deep voice could be heard singing away somewhere. Coll often stated that the flowers grew better when he sang, yet I privately thought he just liked to sing; like the majority of Welshmen, he had a good singing voice. I only wished that I could boast the same, yet Coll merely said that what I made up for in lack of musical ability, I more than made up for in the kitchen, and in the surgical bay. I supposed in a way, he was right and that we couldn't be good at everything.

I eventually found my husband near the rose bushes, bent over a small tub of putrid, sickly yellow succulents, that looked like a fuzzy kind of octopus tentacle. I crept closer to Coll, knowing that he hadn't heard me judging by the way that he continued carefully examining the succulent, his tongue protruding from between his lips. I reached him, clamped my hands gently upon his hips and he jerked to the side, pruners held high as he gave a short sharp bark of a surprised cry. Then his face softened when he saw me, and his bark turned into a relieved laugh.

"Chester, d'you know close you came to getting your eyes pruned out of your head?" Coll asked, as he cast his shears aside with a clatter.

I merely laughed at him, and leant in to press a kiss against his lips, before I persisted in giving him a cuddle, which he laughingly protested against, at least verbally; his body didn't object, however, and I merely hugged him all the tighter.

"What the hell even is that ugly plant?" I asked, as I gestured towards the pot of tentacles.

"Horrible, isn't it?" Coll asked, with a gruff chuckle. "It's an Anatolian Insect Trap. Supposed to be a delicacy for the Anatolians, can you believe? We're expecting a contingent of ambassadors from Anato tomorrow, don't forget and they expect this for dessert."

"Bloody hell, if that's a delicacy, I'd hate to see what they think isn't," I said, with a snort, even as I reached out in an attempt to poke one of the leaves.