“Yessir! Right away sir!” Tav was on his feet instantly, then wobbled a bit and sat down smartly. 

Maybe that last double vodka had been a bad idea. He cast a glance at the captain as the room cleared. Mason had drunk way more than he had, so how on earth was he stone-cold sober now, even able to read maps and make little notes on them. 

“That would be because I’m not only twice your body-mass,” the captain said without looking up. “But I’m also a different species. Llanarians metabolise alcohol extremely quickly. The amount we need to get seriously drunk would kill a human.” 

“I said that outloud, didn’t I?” Rennox went pale, and looked around. He was going to be sick. 

“You did,” Mason confirmed. “But don’t sweat it, kid. You defended sickbay well today and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy so small… no offence… put away so much vodka. The fact you’re still functioning enough to string a sentence together is impressive.”

“Do you need some sleep?” He looked up and speared Tav with a bright-blue gaze, a small smile quirking his lips. It transformed his hard features, taking him from scary as fuck to… Tav swallowed, hard. 

“No, no,” he shook his head quickly. “I-I’m just going to grab a coffee. Err… do you… can I get you one? A coffee, I mean.”

“Yeah, that would be good, thanks.” Mason nodded, his attention already back on the maps, a frown between his brows. Tav lingered for a moment, watching. His attention latched onto the captain’s hands, large and capable as he sketched over the maps, setting up… actually Tav had no idea what he was doing. Something important and ground combat-ish. 

Realising he was staring, he scuttled out of the room as quickly as he could, heading for his favourite replicator. He was lucky the Resolute was small enough that he could nip down a couple of decks to do so. And he needed a little distance, as well as the walk, to get his head on straight. It wasn’t just the alcohol. Now he was out of the room, the implications of their mission had set in. 

The Dominion were back. Holy… shit. 

He knew his history. The Dominion war was the stuff of nightmares. Not that he’d ever say something like that out loud. Not in front of the captain or Commander Bennett. He didn’t want them to think he was scared. But… the Dominion. They were going to be fighting Jem’Hadar. 

He reached the replicator and stood in front of it for a moment, contemplating his feet and by extension, existence. Then the replicator, obviously sensing him in front of it, cheeped softly. The reassuring sound made him look up and he smiled. He’d never known a replicator do that before, and none of the others did, just this one. Obviously Bennett had upgraded it or something. 

“Okay, I’m going to need something to sober me up, quick,” he murmured. “And if you can add something in there to turn me into a superhero capable of slaying Jem’Hadar with a single glance, that would be good too.” 

The replicator cheeped and a few moments later, his favourite drink materialised. With sprinkles. 

“Thank you,” he said with a smile, removing it from the plate. “And the captain’s usual order as well please.”

Another cheep and another drink materialised. Tav blinked. “Cara-mocha-choco-espresso with extra cream and sprinkles?” he asked in surprise, only to get a confirming cheep from the replicator. What were the chances of that? The captain’s order was the same as his.

He carried them back up to the briefing room to find the captain deep in conversation with the Chief Flight officer, Kovash. She was another scary lady, way scarier than Doctor Micheals, and almost as scary as the captain himself. 

“You want me to what?” she demanded. “Are you defective in head? Why am I cursed with idiot for a verenias?” 

The captain rumbled in the back of his throat, nodding his thanks as Tav slid his drink onto the table next to him. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to get in the middle of an argument between the two senior officers. Especially not when he suspected that the captain was about to dress Lieutenant Kovash down for what she’d said. No one called a captain an idiot like that and got away with it. 

He tried to scuttle out of the room when Mason called out. 

“Set up shop in the corner, Rennox. I want those lists as soon as possible.” 

Then he turned back to the pilot, a grin on his face. “Come on, Ray, you can do it. You know you can do it. You know you want to do it.”

Tav blinked and headed to the corner. The pilot wasn’t in trouble, in fact, the captain appeared amused. 

“This is starship, Raan, not turbolift….”

Shit. They were using first names. Tav knew what the captain’s given name was, but he’d never heard anyone call him it. Not like that. So easily. He blinked as he grabbed a seat in the corner and hid behind his padd, starting on the list the captain wanted. 

Were Kovash and the captain like… an item? He tried not to peak over the top but he couldn’t help himself, looking for some kind of body language that would say if they were knocking boots. 

“It’s not,” the captain agreed. “Can you make the ship do it anyway?”

“Ugggh! Yes, alright, yes! I can do maneuver. Ship might not like it. Bennett definitely not like it. He shout at me for breaking his pretty ship, you deal with him, kay?”

“Absolutely,” the captain nodded and Kovash whirled around, mumbling something about idiot men. She caught sight of Tav as she stalked toward the door. 

“List, yeoman Rennox. Soon. Okay?” 

“Yes ma’am! Of course!” he said, swallowing the mouthful of his coffee he’d just taken. It scalded it’s way all the way down his throat. “Working on it!”

“Good.” 

Then she was gone. Tav looked up at the captain, wide-eyed. Mason obviously read the question in his eyes and chuckled. 

“She’s an old friend, so she gets to talk to me however she wants in private,” he explained. “She saved my life. Twice. Never lets me forget it, either.”

Tav’s eyes about popped out of his head as the captain lifted his shirt, flashing both what had to be thirty-pack hard abs, and a vicious scar that ran up down his ribcage and disappeared under his waistband. Holy shit, it looked like he’d been about cut in half. 

“Errrr… she sounds like a good friend, sir.” 

But Mason’s attention was already on the intell reports in front of him, a small sigh escaping him as he settled in his own chair, and lifted the drink Tav had gotten for him to his lips. 

Tav went back to his own work. Who would have thought the captain drank Cara-mocha-choco-espresso with extra cream and sprinkles?