[ usually? after a mission? maybe she shouldn't be surprised, given his skillset, but marta takes quiet note of that anyway. ]
What does he usually make you? I found myself making a mess of the kitchens not long after we got back, and now I have too much rice and beans to know what to do with.
[ joe watched the moon landing, entranced by how far technology and science had come in such a short span of time, so being on a spaceship is magnificent for him, if not slightly tarnished by not being able to share it with nicky. it hasn't lost it's appeal and he spends a fair amount of his time with his head pressed against a window, watching space ripple out before him. and yet, despite the wonder and grandeur, it does remind him of their years at sea, instead of being surrounded by the unknowable wine-dark sea, he is surrounded by the unknowable expanse of starlight. it gives him an ease on the ship, despite how new he is to the crew, bounding into the galley like an enthusiastic puppy. ]
[ joe will find marta in the midst of what her mother would call a disaster area, but she'd never been very good at cleaning up during the process of cooking. both marta and her sister were the type to leave all the dishes for afterwards, so spread out over the stove and countertops are the evidence of her hard work over the past couple of hours — though the messy twist of her bun would suggest she's probably been here an hour too long. but, restless hands and all. ]
Joe. [ she beams as he nears, and waves him over with a wooden spoon. ] Come, come. I've just made you a plate.
[ oh, she cooks like him. conceivably, one burner can do but joe will be using all four and no one can stop him except nicky trying to make coffee. ]
You have to be careful with that spoon, I married a functional Italian. I have wooden spoon trauma. [ he rubs the back of his hand pointedly, cradling it dramatically to his chest as if he can feel the pain of being smacked with nicky's spoon because joe can't resist tasting whatever is bubbling away on the stovetop like a gremlin. ]
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[ turns out joe does not think to do that himself when nicky is not there to remind him. ]
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What does he usually make you?
I found myself making a mess of the kitchens not long after we got back, and now I have too much rice and beans to know what to do with.
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Last time he shoved a toaster strudel in my mouth so we make do with what we have
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You'll join me?
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[ joe watched the moon landing, entranced by how far technology and science had come in such a short span of time, so being on a spaceship is magnificent for him, if not slightly tarnished by not being able to share it with nicky. it hasn't lost it's appeal and he spends a fair amount of his time with his head pressed against a window, watching space ripple out before him. and yet, despite the wonder and grandeur, it does remind him of their years at sea, instead of being surrounded by the unknowable wine-dark sea, he is surrounded by the unknowable expanse of starlight. it gives him an ease on the ship, despite how new he is to the crew, bounding into the galley like an enthusiastic puppy. ]
Marta, hello!
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Joe. [ she beams as he nears, and waves him over with a wooden spoon. ] Come, come. I've just made you a plate.
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You have to be careful with that spoon, I married a functional Italian. I have wooden spoon trauma. [ he rubs the back of his hand pointedly, cradling it dramatically to his chest as if he can feel the pain of being smacked with nicky's spoon because joe can't resist tasting whatever is bubbling away on the stovetop like a gremlin. ]
It smells wonderful.