you came to me in peace.

[docwithablog]

[ Going out had been his idea, revenge for all the fast food they (read: Khan) had eaten last time. The other man hadn't objected, so here they are -- orders placed, appetizers just delivered to their small corner table (some kind of mousse with chunks of shrimp arranged on slices of cucumber, garnish, looks ridiculous and ridiculously expensive in equal measure) and the waitress with her brown ponytail disappearing into the kitchen, leaving them -- not quite to themselves in the quickly filling restaurant, but close enough. Seafood's a popular choice on a late Friday afternoon, apparently.

John raises an eyebrow at Khan across the table, reaching for his glass of white wine, ignoring the appetizers for now. Frankly, they resemble tiny, green flying saucers with fish bits more than anything. At least they were on the house. ]

You looked like something out of Back to the Future, honestly. Not sufficient sparkle to match Hollywood, but I'm sure you can tweak that.

Comments

[docwithablog]

Nothing to work up an appetite in a man like being lectured on the immeasurability of the universe.

[ A chuckle as he shovels in the first spoonfuls of soup, the bisque strong and thick on his tongue, very flavoursome, hearty in the best of ways -- infinitely better than the appetizers, they were probably free for a reason, shit.

He catches the hint of mockery that Khan presents him with, because come on -- if John couldn't pinpoint mockery when it slaps him in the bloody face at this point, Sherlock hasn't trained him well enough and they all know how that partnership panned out in the long run. Well, relatively long run... A moment's pause and he pushes the inevitable sense of regret aside, focusing on the man before him, enjoying his fish with a raised eyebrow and a little bit of humour. Suits him, John thinks. Suits us.

Khan eats his fish with the same focus and -- what, strategy that he does everything else, from head to tail, measured bites, no hungry gobbling down. John has seen people eat neatly, mostly women, certainly, but still -- this is different, it's not for the sake of meticulousness, it's for the sake of efficiency, obviously. You eat your rations and don't leave rubbish behind, in the field. Yeah, John recognises the procedure. It's familiar, very much so. And welcome.

Going through his soup equally well-organized about the routine, he raises an eyebrow at Khan, challenging. ]

[insuperiorstrength]

[ Silence.

There's something very unique about the way John manages to balance shows of attitude with that all-important foundation of respect, born from years of living and breathing the concept of hierarchy. It's not altogether common amongst humans and Khan can't abide any relations without it; at best, human arrogance in itself annoys him. At worst, it makes him want to end people. But now, John changes his eating pattern very subtly, matching Khan's organised precision, falling into step beside him without question. There's a challenge in his raised eyebrow, of course.

Are you still keeping up?

He doesn't smile, but there's an amused glint in his eyes as he continues eating, silently. In a moment or two, he'll tell John about his last visit to Qo'noS. Give him something to think about, see whether he can't stretch his limits for geeky sci-fi another inch or two. ]