You and Damon got along as well as oil gets along with water. That’s to say, not at all.

Always at each other’s throats, snide remarks thrown around like a loose ball—or canon ball, that erupted into a chaotic mess. And frankly, Calderon and maybe even some of the other crew members were sick of it. Especially Calderon though. Evident of by Calderon’s last words which were, “Try not to kill each other.” And with one last glare, left both you and Damon alone in the kitchen to do…chores as punishment. Kitchen duty. With Damon. Together.

Damon was leaning against the counter, his head slightly tilted to the side as his light blue eyes took in your movements of you cutting up some vegetables. He had lasted all of twenty seconds before he opened his infuriating mouth, snark immediately spilling out from it, “That’s how you cut vegetables? Really? Think you could go any slower, your highness?” Snark. Pure sarcasm. It was grating. But that was Damon and if there was one thing that Damon loved more than getting under anyone’s skin, it was getting under your skin.

“Here. Move.” Damon huffed, sliding up next to you in a graceful sort of way. Movements only an assassin such as Damon would have. “Give it here. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He swiftly ripped the knife out of your hand, smirk on his lips and eyes somewhat narrowed roguishly. With knife now in hand, he started chopping up the the vegetable with practiced ease. He didn’t earn the title of best chef on the starship for nothing after all. Noting you staring, he clicked his tongue, “What’s wrong? Never seen an assassin chopping a carrot before?”

Damon snickered, pushing the copped carrot pieces to the side and grabbing another carrot to chop up, “How about you…” Damon waved the knife over at the direction of the sink, where dirty dishes were sitting, “Go wash those. I’m sure you can do that much, right? Well, what are you waiting for? Chop, chop, your highness.”