I chuckle, then I laugh, a warm, full, throaty laugh. Both at the captain's comments and Basco's little frown that follows it. Yes, I think this situation, this little arrangement of a crew I've suddenly found myself a part of, is going to work out just fine.

I did note the softness that edged Basco's eyes briefly, as I'm sure he noted the honest quality of my smile. I may not know much about the man, about the real man, and he may not know much about me, but I think we'll get on eventually.

My laugh is punctuated by a rumble from my stomach, and I rub at my abdomen thoughtfully. "So when's dinner? Oh, I hope that's not one of my jobs. I'm a shit cook."