Tea Leaves
Tea Leaves
Summary: Greje invites Evelyn over for tea.
Date: 75 ACH
Related Logs: Sticky Subjects
Players:
Greje..Eve..

Greje has her desk mostly cleared in anticipation of Eve's arrival. The tea is brewing, and the tiny office is steeped in the rich, warm smell. She leans over her little garden, slowly misting the daphnis minor with a set of frail fingers poised underneath a sprig.

There's a knock on the hatch, just a quick rap of knuckles on metal before Eve is sticking her head in. "Sister." She greets quietly, but doesn't slip in to the room yet until she's actually invited.

Greje looks up from her misting, stands and gently pulls her hands to her sides, mister pointing outward and wiping her damp hand on the leg of her uniform. "Doctor," she replies, "Do come in. The tea's on," she tells her, gently. "Have a seat, make yourself at home."

Eve slips in, clicking the hatch closed behind her. "Thank you. It was very nice of you to ask me to tea, its one of those pleasantries that sort of get left along the wayside on a Battlestar. How are you, then? You haven't been back to my office, so either I was really as terrible as I thought, or you're feeling better." She moves towards the couch, nesting in one corner of it.

Greje smiles softly, pulling two clean mugs from the tree and setting them upright. "I've been… some combination of better and excessively busy. The entire ship seems intent on marriage, and I've been juggling appointments," she chuckles softly, then looks up, "Not to say I've anything against the institution of marriage. It's just… well, three couples in one week is a busy week by any standard. Four and five and six come along and you begin to wonder if you're on a hidden camera program. It's nice to see people making one another happy, at the very least," she smiles warmly, lifting the kettle to pour the tea, which she made right in the pot, this time, so that they can refill at will without having to brew another cup.

There's a tinge of color touching the tops of Eve's cheeks. "Yes, I can imagine. But its a common occurance after a traumatic event. The Cylon attach on the Genesis was likely a catalyst to the sudden influx of weddings. Human nature, to get shocked into thinking you're going to lose something so therefore now you're going to hold tighter. There should also be an influx of babies ten months from now, statistically speaking. Due to our unique situation, the standard planning time that usually takes place between engagment and ceramony ins't necessary. Afterall, there's hardly any family left to notify, wedding locales are pretty slim, and the guest list is the company roster. I'll be kind to you though, and let you know my own impending nuptuals will likely be…months from now."

Greje picks up both mugs of tea and then promptly nearly drops them as Eve drops that on her on her way around the desk. She recovers, though, with only a splash of really, -really- hot water over her hand, eliciting a few half-stifled efforts at colorful language, vaguely to be represented, "Ah! Guh! F— eeek, that's, that's quite warm," she finally uses her words like a good priestling, settling down and handing the mug of unsloshed tea over to Eve, "You're getting married!" she states the obvious. "After the baby's born?" she presumes, on the 'months from now' comment.

Eve relieves Greje of one mug, and cuts the likelihood of burns by fifty percent. "Yes, Micah asked me three days ago. Its not an intentional delay, but things are happening rather fast for him, so I'm willing to give his brain a chance to catch up to his heart. I'm assuming it will be before the baby is born, though. He wants him or her to have his last name."

Greje hms, "It's a good idea," she nods her head, scootching out of her shoes and dragging her legs up to scrunch up against the other arm of the small sofa, lifting her mug to her lips to blow there. "For both of you. I've been trying to convince some of the people who've been in here looking to get married - right now - to take a long engagement, instead. Get over the way emotions are running hot — fear from the attacks, that mad passion of a newly budding romance. Let the head catch up, as you say. I'm fearing a rash of divorces, infidelity and marriage counselling ten months down the line as much as one of childbearing. But they're all so certain they've got their heads on straight."

Eve lifts her cup of tea, smirking over the rim. "Well. At least they're coming to you with it, instead of me." She murmurs, before taking a tentative sip of the herbal brew. There's a purr in her throat, clearly appreciating the warmth and taste of the concoction. "What about you, sister? Does your religion allow you to date? To marry?"

Greje follows her guest's example in taking a sip before she chuckles softly, "Don't tempt me to divert them. Sometimes it's like talking to a brick wall." Her eyebrows both rise, then, and her mouth opens, wordless briefly, "I— ahh— yes, I -can,- technically," she replies, tripping over her words a little, then, after an awkward pause, she takes another sip of tea. "Are you two going to be coming to the chapel, or are you going the civil route?"

Eve's shoulders lift in a delicate shrug, "That's entirely up to Saint Germain. I've never been the most religious person, I'll admit. I hope the gods will be pleased whether I do the deed in the Chapel or just by signing my name. I guess it comes down to if it matters for him or not." Yes, there's a lot that they don't know about each other, but Eve is trying to keep a level head about things.

Greje smiles at the sentiment. "A life well lived is a tribute to the Lords, no matter whether you worship or not," she agrees, then nods, "Well, if you decide to come to the chapel, I'd be pleased to serve the both of you," she offers with a mild but caring sort of smile. "And if not, well, you know I'll be here for you if you need anything in the way of secular assistance, hm?"

Eve lifts her mug slightly, "Does that include tea? If so, I'll need constant secular assistance I'm afraid. Maybe even three…four times a week." She takes another little delicate sip of her tea. "So. Why the technicality placed on whether or not you can date or marry? Something that holds no interest for you?" Sometimes its hard to shut off work, or maybe Eve is actually truly interested in the answer.

Greje smiles. "As long as the tea holds out, it will include tea," she extends the offer. "Afterward… well, I'll need to improvise," she nods her head, trying not to think of that awful day when she won't be able to get her tea fix. She -requires- tea. She's pretty sure her blood type is herbal blend. "Ah —-" she begins again, voice sticking in her throat and requiring another sip of tea in order to get unstuck again, "N — just… something I've never been very good at. Negligence, you know. Spend too many years inside a library, you look up and realize you're about as good at dating as you were in middle school," she manages a nervous sort of laugh, even the notion of it calling a red flush to her cheeks.

Eve mmhmms. "I know that feeling. Quite well, actually. In fact, my relationship with Micah was quite the fluke. I had resigned myself to the occasional sexual encounter to fulfill the physical and psychological need. Certainly didn't expect him to stick around." She smiles softly, a bit of fondness in her eyes whenever she mentions him. "But, experiences can only happen if we're open to them happening, I suppose."

Greje smiles at that spark of fondness, those small sorts of things just the honey in her proverbial tea, making what's left of life sweet. "Yes — I trained and became an annointed of Aphrodite, considering that if I devoted myself to the Lady of Laughter she might forgive me for the years of neglect. She accepted my service, but— becoming trained in Aphrodisiac cult evidently has absolutely no effect on ones ability to not make an idiot of oneself on a date," she grins more broadly, now, as she indulges in some self-teasing.

Now that they've settled into a bit of girl talk, Eve reaches down to loosen the laces of her boots so she can slip out of them. Turning sideways on the couch, her feet get propped between them, so she can rest her tea cup on one knee. "I admit, I have an advantage. With my professional training I can usually steer conversation pretty well. Usually. For some reason I tend to frak it up with Major Zaharis."

Greje laughs, a full laugh at the admission, "Oh, Jesse, bless him," she shakes her head, smile fading, "I hope he'll be alright. But yes, he immediately struck me as the sort you can't say anything to. I have to admit that our first few encounters were less than cordial." She looks up from her tea after a sip. "How's your condition treating you?"

Eve points at her stomach, though the pregnancy isn't really apparent yet, "The baby? Better. The morning sickness has eased some what. Though now its just replaced by the insatiable urge to have to micturate or cry at the drop of a hat, but. That's to be expected. Got a knock on the noggin though," She pulls back her hair a bit, where a faded bruise and a thin line of a healing laceration can be seen now that the shadow has been removed. "So I've had headaches almost contantly since."

"Oh, goodness — I'm glad it wasn't worse. Was that during the attack? Were you on deck 13 when it happened?" Greje questions, worried.

Eve grimaces slightly at the sudden influx of concern. "I was. On my way reporting for duty when we hit condition one. I was a bit sluggish in reporting, so I only blame myself for being in the hull when they hit. It was silly, I just lost my footing and must have hit the wall on the way down. I don't remember much of it, just that I ended up in the recovery ward some time after. And of course, I've gotten some undo attention from the Commander, so now I'm to go to berthings during condition one. Its a bother, thinking I'm so useless sometimes."

Greje presses her lips together, "Anyone may have fallen, of course. But I suppose it might have been a danger to the baby," she considers, not knowing the medicine behind it, but — that's how it happens in the movies, right? Woman falls down the stairs, has a miscarriage? Not that Greje knows why, but she's willing to believe it true. "You're not useless. You're putting yourself to the most important use you can… protecting another human life. Those are in rare supply, these days."

Eve nods a bit numbly, as if accepting that fact but not particularly liking it. "Yes, I suppose there's a certain danger to the baby, that's unavoidable. Even if I ship off to the Carina now, there's a host of every day accidents that could be catastrophic. But now I can't even do the charts and fill prescriptions that I used to do on Condition One. Now. I …" She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I'm grousing."

"It's fine… I understand it must be frustrating," Greje replies, drinking some more tea before continuing, "Do you have anything in your bunk to keep you busy? Books or activities? It doesn't need to feel like wasted time," she points out, trying to be helpful.

Eve rubs at an eye with the knuckle of her thumb, "Well, I can move some texts up from my office to berthings. But its not as if I'll have any patients during condition one. My one fear is that the extent of my career will be reduced and boiled down to the fact that I decided to have a baby. I won't be remembered as the Psyche that made a difference, I'll be remembered as that one woman that was here, but didn't she go off to the Carina to raise a kid? Its foolish, I know, but I look at the sash for my dress greys, and the only pins and badges I have on it are purely the obligatory ones I received for passing my classes and graduating into the service. I've been in now, for thirteen years. -Thirteen-."

"You wouldn't have patients during condition one if you were in your office, either," Greje points out. "You can use the time to study, or — relax. Or you can do like me and just sit there in a complete panic hoping that the ship won't explode around you," she adds with a friendly sort of smile. "Oh, Doctor Sloan… Evelyn," she tries the woman's first name, warmly. "We're not back into the dark ages, no matter how much it feels like we're trying to get there. You're a modern woman, you don't have to put up with being pigeonholed as a wife and mother. If there's anyone around who doesn't respect those thirteen years of service and aid…" she shakes her head, "Anyhow, you're not going to have to stop your work because you have a child. I mean, maybe in the short term you'll need to take some downtime… an infant is a lot of work. But you've got friends… support… a husband, soon. You'll make it work."

Eve sighs, her chest heaving with the effort. "I know, I know. Sometimes I wonder if its my own demons holding me down. I'm having issues, I suppose, in even deciding if I want to continue my career. I'm not as strong as I should be, in order to help guide others through their own trials. A fact that's become very clear, even more so now that I'm a slave to my hormones." She gives a little self chiding laugh.

Greje looks worried. "Well, as you say, your hormones are doing strange things. You probably shouldn't make any big decisions in this state. If you feel like you need some leave, though, you should ask for it. Even if just for a week or two to see if your hormones will shift around to a state you can handle. You're probably also exhausted. You've had a lot of work on your plate. I know I was feeling pretty burnt out once or twice, with everyone coming to me at once to insist that the Lords don't exist because they wouldn't have let this happen. It's got to wear on you, dealing with so many souls. Wear on your own soul. Take some time for yourself. Dane had to tell me to go do the same thing."

Eve nods slowly, "Yes, yes I suppose you're right. A few days of leave would give me an advantage I need, at least to get a head start on trying to round up a few more supplies. Micah's found a bottle, a few pacifiers and the sweetest little bonnet. And Reed has given me a little blue jumper. Its a start, at least. But I can't go, not just yet. Not with Jesse still in the recovery ward, and the medical team all upside down and backwards. Oh, and I plan to have a movie night soon. I think it'll help boost morale."

Greje nods quietly, "Well… as long as you feel up to it. A movie night sounds like a wonderful idea," she adds with a smile. "And as for your career… you'll have time to figure that out. Once you and your family are into a good routine. It'll be here before you know it," she tries to assure her.

Eve rolls a palm over her stomach, only then does it look a little more rounded like it should, like Eve got a hold of a box of donuts. "Its still half a dozen weeks before I even find out if its a boy or a girl. Though Micah wants to be surprised." She smirks a bit, then repositions both hands around her tea cup. "I can't imagine not knowing if the information is available."

Greje leans her back against the sofa's arm, draining the rest of her tea. "Some people like to wait for that miraculous moment when suddenly it all becomes that much more real. Granted, that's usually the father rather than the mother. Mother tends to know too well how real it is," she gives Eve an almost playful smile.

Eve gives a soft laugh, "Yes well. Since the moment of the first ultrasound there's not a moment where it hasn't been real. From throwing up, to growing pains, and eventually flutters become little baby kicks. I hope…I hope it will be real for him soon, too. Its almost painful, at times, when he doesn't refer to the child as 'ours' but rather mine. Maybe now things'll be different. Now that we know how each other feels."

Greje's smile fades into a look of concern. Oh, man, she's going to lose big at the department head poker night. "I feel… silly asking -you- this, Evelyn, but… you two -are- doing this for yourselves, right? Not just for the baby. I mean, it's a noble thought, to give the child married parents, to… be committed to one another, but the child won't get any benefit if things go unhappily between you."

Eve lays her head back against the cushions, "He's impossible. He's arrogant, mouthy, always wants the last word and his temper is infuriating. But I love him. And near as I can tell, he feels the same way about me. We're not the perfect couple, by any stretch of the word, but we work. Some how, I believe we'll work." Its said earnestly.

Greje looks more concerned at the brief litany. "It's not uncommon for women to find infuriating traits in men as attractive on some level. Arousing… he's showing a display of primal masculine power, and it attracts us. You, rather," she amends, "Women in general, I mean," she stammers out. "It's actually one of the more common ways women end up in abusive relationships," she adds as a point of trivia, geek as she is, before retracting, "Not that I'm saying it's going there, of course. But I spent eight months serving Aphrodite at her temple. We saw… a lot of people come to us to ask advice. And one general principle I picked up was that if something infuriates you about a person from the outset… even if you find it somehow endearing… it -will- only get worse with time. And hoping that he'll change is never a good option," she adds, pressing her lips together, musing. "You believe you'll work. Why? Because that's what you want to believe?" It's not as accusatory as it reads… just prodding at a thought to see if it yields fruit.

Eve holds up a finger at that. "He'd never hurt me. And if he did, he'd have half a battlestar on his back for the effort. You'd be surprised, but he's actually…getting better. Better at controlling it or finding more creative and productive outlets. If there's one thing I know, sister, its how to counsel anger management." A bit of a sly smile. "Even if he doesn't realize I'm doing it. Even though he almost decked the commander the other day, he only ended up smacking an IV stand. I'll take that as a win. And of course, I want us to work. I don't quite consider myself a romantic, but, I suppose there's an air of that in this case, hmm?"

"I didn't mean to imply that he would, I'm sorry, my… thinkmeats sometimes go in directions they probably shouldn't, and things get out of my mouth before I've had time to consider how they could be taken," Greje apologizes. "Hey, like, do you know where the word 'nuptials' comes from?"

Eve smiles into her tea at the change in subject. "I have no idea." She murmurs, before taking a sip, content to let the subject drift away from Micah and his temper.

"It comes from one of the Scriptural Dialects… a word for 'veil,' and the word was taken into our language because of the veil a bride wears," Greje… off on a tangent. "But at the time that that word for veil was in use? Actually both the bride and the groom attended the ceremony with their heads veiled. The veiled rites were in vogue for a certain period… about four hundred years… its only noticiable impact upon us is the wedding veil. Though capite-velato is still used in -some- cult rites of Ares and Zeus," she goes on, "But… not commonly. The veiled rite -may- have its origin in a sort of voluntary human sacrifice -very- peculiarly tucked into the non-canonical scriptures. Makes you wonder why it was transferred in use to weddings, hm? But we have some accounts of people veiling themselves when about to take some bold action which they supposed was going to lead to their deaths… perhaps in order to sanctify the death… a sort of self-heroization?" she asks.. herself? Maybe?

Eve gives a laugh. "Hopefully that question wasn't aimed at me, because I think you left me some where around capite-vela…vela something. But isn't the veil supposed to signify something? Like. Chasteness? I suppose that means one won't be necessary for my wedding. Hard to pretend you're chaste when you're with child." Eve is admittedly naive when it comes to religion, though she's been seen lately, sporting a religious text she got from somewhere.

"Actually, I'm -prreeeeetty- sure the veil in its -original- form was in order to stop the person partaking in the rites from seeing something ill-omened and tainting the ritual," Greje remarks, in that way she does when she knows way, way too much about something. "Though the number of people who know that anymore are… well… crap, it might just be me. But I've got a book on the Thuschi… that tribe I was speaking about, who did the veiled rites. Anyway… now the veil's just customary, a… vestigial ritual item we apply new meaning to since the old one is long forgotten by all but those who spend way too much time in the library and not enough time going out on dates. But that doesn't mean it's not important… it's got so much… so much -behind it,- Evelyn. So much to decode. Can you imagine? We do without thinking about it something that people were doing thousands upon thousands of years ago. Doesn't that… isn't it…" she shakes her head, wordless.

Eve reaches out to pat Greje's knee. "It certainly is." Clearly not knowing the word to help the priestess fill in the blanks. Its possible, Eve's getting relaxed enough to not keep her brain firing on all its pins. "Its simply amazing the amounts of things we do, simply because that's how our mother or grandmother before us did them. Take for instance, how you steep tea. For me? Its making sure the water is hot, and has some flavor. You? Give the leaves time to open and soak."

"Sadly, there doesn't seem to be anything much about tea in scripture. I wonder where we got this idea?" Greje wonders, looking down into her cup, eyes going vaguely unfocused as she tries to read the bits of leaf down there. "Hmm. Do you want me to read yours? Or should I get the kettle and freshen us up?"

Eve grins widely at that notion. "As long as it comes with the caveat that I don't put much stock into fates….sure." She sips the last of her liquid out, leaving the dregs stuck to the bottom of the cup which is then offered towards the priestess.

Greje switches cups with Eve, taking hers in both her hands and smiling at the psychologist… psychiatrist? One of those soul doctors. "It's not quite like that," she mentions with a warm smile, before falling silent and gazing down into the cup, turning it slowly this way and that as she lets the little specks suggest images to her. "I see Aquila, the eagle… his beak bloodied in the right corner. Someone's been… hunting. On the right side… with good intent," she decodes, "There's no sign of the prey. But it was evidently a close battle. Whatever was stricken was stricken hard, and may still be wounded. If I had to guess… I'd say this means that some operation you've undertaken with the conviction that you were doing the right thing… but which has seemed, from your perspective, to have failed… has had more impact than you might think. If the eagle turns back to look, he may find supper waiting for him."

Eve reaches up to rub at the back of her neck, "I have…no idea what any of that means. But I suppose its up to me to take that and chew it over, interpreting it how I see fit. Some how, I'll figure out a way to turn that positive. I hope." She smiles, shifting her bare feet back to the floor. "Suppose its about time I turn in. This was lovely. Truly."

Greje smiles and stands, herself, unfolding from her spot on the HOM, "It really was. We should tea again soon." Yes. Tea as a verb. "And, well, I'll be down soon," she smiles. She does only sleep a few bunks away.

Eve smiles pleasantly, "Don't stay up too late." Then she does that annoying thing that's ingrained in her since birth when parting from a social meeting. She leans over and gives Greje's cheek an air kiss.

Greje takes the other mug, and returns the air kiss with a smile, evidently not finding it annoysome in the least. "I won't."

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