Sweet 'n' Salty Mine Adventure!
“Sweet and salty!”
“Darling! Stop taking pictures and come here! We gotta gear up!”
Elma set the bag down on the ground with a thud. Rustle. Her tiny hand rummaged inside. Soon enough, she thrust something out toward me.
“Here! This is today's couple's outfit!”
Elma's eyes sparkled with pride. I looked down at what she'd handed me. A yellow hard hat. A fluorescent safety vest. And a harness.
“....”
“Whaddya think? Cool, right? I got a special extra-large one sized just for you, Darling!”
She's the one who needs special sizing, I thought, but she was using me as an excuse to save face, probably out of pride.
Elma, now changed into her gear. It was a sight to behold. The yellow hard hat barely let her eyes peek out. The fluorescent vest draped comically loose around her. And the harness, with so much extra strap she'd had to wrap it around herself twice. Elma planted her hands on her hips and looked up at me proudly. Full of swagger, perfect pose. The only problem? She looks just like a kindergartener on a field trip.
It was so heart-meltingly cute I thought my chest might ache. I desperately swallowed my laughter.
“You look totally badass.”
“Right? Gear is the foundation of any expedition!”
Elma strutted around smugly for a bit before suddenly narrowing her eyes. Her almond-shaped gaze scanned me intently.
“Darling.”
“Yeah?”
“But you just had a weird thought, didn't you?”
“....”
“Like, maybe, 'she looks like a kindergartener' or something.”
“N-no, not at all.”
She wasn't just perceptive anymore—she was straight-up reading my mind. Had she studied telepathy or something?
“How could I ever think something like that?”
“Liar.”
“For real. I was thinking you look like the coolest expedition leader ever.”
“Hmmm....”
Elma crossed her arms. She eyed me suspiciously for a good while. But our professor had a fatal weakness for compliments. Soon enough, the corners of her mouth twitched upward.
“Well, you do have good taste, Darling. I'll let it slide.”
I wiped imaginary sweat from my brow in relief.
“So, Leader, where to next?”
“Mm! First, toward the water vein!”
Her tiny finger pointed to the far end of the mine.
“Let's roll out!”
“Aye aye.”
The little shadow waddled ahead confidently. Her yellow hard hat bobbed with every step. I followed quietly behind. Her steps were light and bouncy, all traces of gloom shaken off. A tiny hamster in a glowing fluorescent vest, sparkling away. Man, she was just too damn cute.
“Darling! Look at this! It's insane!”
Deep inside the mine. The dark tunnel, our headlamp beams swaying.
“Check out these sedimentary rock joints! Aren't they gorgeous?!”
Elma plastered herself to the wall and shouted. Her yellow hard hat bobbed excitedly. Her little hand swung the pickaxe relentlessly. Clang, clank!
Honestly, I couldn't care less about rocks. Sedimentary, igneous—whatever, it was all just a black wall to me. But...
“Whoa, the layers are so defined!”
“Right?! What'd I tell ya! This place is a geological treasure trove!”
My reaction sent Elma's energy through the roof. She started hopping around on her stubby legs. She was so thrilled she was practically bouncing. Boing, boing. Her fluorescent vest fluttered. The headlamp flickered like a firefly. Just like a hamster digging tunnels for fun.
“See these water marks? Means groundwater used to fill up all the way here back in the day!”
“That's wild. No wonder they say you've got an eye for four doctorates—you're on another level.”
“Heh! Of course!”
Elma puffed up her chest proudly. Then she hopped toward the wall again.
“Careful. You're gonna trip.”
I shot out my hand and snagged her harness strap.
“Eek! Let go a sec! I gotta check deeper in!”
“Now, now, Leader. Exploration's great, but safety first.”
“Ughhh....”
Elma wriggled like a kitten grabbed by the scruff. Her short legs kicked futilely in the air. Even that was adorable. Yeah, dragging her out here was worth it. Just to see this little sparkling gem right in front of me.
“How about we set up base camp here? Aren't you hungry?”
“Not hun—grrrrowl.”
Her stomach let out a massive rumble before she could finish. Elma coughed awkwardly over and over.
She was a five-meals-a-day girl. She'd only had four today, and those were crappy combat rations. Rest stop food didn't count—snack belly was separate.
“Well, it's about mealtime. Managing your crew's stamina is the leader's job, after all.”
“Exactly.”
“We're camping here tonight.”
“Got it, Leader.”
We found a wide, flat spot and settled in.
Click-clack—whoosh. The gas burner ignited. Warm firelight danced on the walls. Our tent was pitched in front of it. Dinner: combat rations.
“I'll pull the string.”
“Yup yup!”
Snap. Steam billowed from the heating pack. Cheap MSG-seasoned retort pouch food. A distinctly bargain-bin aroma filled the air.
Moments later, I tore open the bag and scooped some out with a disposable spoon.
“Ahh—here.”
“Aaah!”
Elma opened wide. The fried rice vanished into her tiny mouth. Her cheeks ballooned out like they might burst. Nom nom. She worked her jaws furiously.
“How's it taste?”
“Mmmph....”
Elma scrunched her nose. She gulped it down with a big swallow and smacked her lips.
“Too much seasoning. The meat's all dry and crumbly.”
Brutally honest review. Her palate had been honed by five square meals a day.
“Not good? Want something else?”
Combat rations all tasted about the same anyway. But checking on my wife's tastes was husbandly duty.
“Nah.”
Elma shook her head, then beamed.
“Tastes bad, but it's super fun!”
“Fun?”
“Yeah! Pitching a tent in a cave, lighting a fire, eating with you, Darling.”
She grabbed my hand and took another bite from the spoon.
“Even this cheap stuff tastes amazing.”
“Glad you like it.”
Her eyes crinkled happily. Almond irises glimmered, reflecting the firelight. Looking at her face filled me right up.
“That's how you eat in places like this—atmosphere over everything.”
She polished off three packs just like that. As I cleared the empty bags...
“Hm hm hum...”
Elma scooted over to the gear bag on all fours, humming a tune.
“The true flower of exploration is dessert after dinner.”
Rustle rustle. She hauled out an armful from the bag.
“....”
I couldn't help but chuckle. Chocolate. Biscuits. A bag of marshmallows. Fat sausages. And every kind of snack imaginable. One whole compartment was a snack pantry. Yeah, no way it'd end with just rations. Classic Elma.
“Snack belly's a separate thing!”
She pulled out metal skewers and threaded marshmallows and sausages on them.
“Darling, roast these for me.”
“Marshmallows and sausages... together?”
“Sweet and salty!”
Weird combo, but how could I say no when she was looking at me like that? I carefully rotated the skewers over the fire. Sizzle. Sausage juices burst out. The marshmallows puffed up golden-brown at the same time. Sweet sugar scent mixed with salty meat aroma. Surprisingly decent pairing.
“Ooo....”
Elma stood tall like a meerkat. She gulped audibly.
“All done. Careful, it's hot.”
I held up the perfectly roasted skewer. Foo, foo. I blew on it gently to cool it.
Held it to Elma's mouth.
“Aaah—!”
She chomped the browned marshmallow like a baby bird. Stretch—. Melted goo dangled in a long string.
“Hot! Hot! Foo! Foo!”
“You okay?”
“Yeah! Marshmallowsh!”
She was already reviewing it before even swallowing.
“Mmm. Nyam.”
She rolled it around her mouth to cool it, eyes gauging the temp as they darted. She chewed away happily. But...
“Elma. You've got it all over your face.”
Cheeks and nose bridge. Smears of melted marshmallow. Even her upper lip was sticky. Her messy eating was cute too.
“Huh? Where?”
She tried wiping with the back of her hand. But too focused on eating, maybe—she just smeared it around more.
“Hold still.”
I cupped her cheek and went to thumb it off, but a mischievous impulse hit. I leaned in close.
“D-Darling?”
Her almond eyes blinked rapidly. I licked the cream off her nose tip.
“Hyah?!”
Her little shoulders jolted.
“Tasty.”
Now the cheek smear. I dragged my tongue over the soft, chewy skin. Sticky sweetness blended with Elma's nutty scent.
Mwah. A light kiss on her nose bridge. Then down a bit, I sucked the marshmallow off her upper lip.
“Mmm....”
Elma let out a lazy hum. She closed her eyes obediently and offered her lips. Sticky sugar remnants. I rubbed and tangled tongues, melting it away. Saliva mixed. Thick, sweet kiss.
“Haa....”
Our lips parted. A thin strand connected us. Elma's cheeks burned red. Not just from the firelight.
“This is really sweet and salty.”
“Ugh... Darling, you're such a pro....”
She bashfully buried her face in my chest. Tiny fists thumped my knee. Playful pout. And so we enjoyed dessert time.
Night deepened. Silence settled. The gas lantern flickered.
“Time for bed?”
“Yeah.”
I tidied up. Elma rummaged in her backpack. Rustle. Rustle. Awkward movements. Pretending to search. Obvious fake-out. Anyone could see it was staged.
“Huhhh—?”
“What's up?”
“Thish ish sho weird—? Where'd it gooo—?”
She was reading from a textbook, basically. Elma whipped around to face me. Big round eyes. The picture of innocence betrayed.
“Darling! Big trouble!”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Get this—I only packed one sleeping bag by mistake!”
Oh, please. As if our meticulous professor would mess that up. There'd only been one from the start—I'd seen her pack.
But...
“What do we do? It's gonna be freezing tonight.”
I played along with feigned concern. Couldn't bear to wipe that grin off her face.
“No choice! To survive, we'll have to share!”
Cheeky declaration. Elma unzipped the sleeping bag with a zzzip. Snug one-person size.
“But y'know, Darling.”
“Yeah.”
“You know how to preserve body heat if you're stranded?”
“Dunno.”
Professor already smirking. She fiddled with her clothes.
“Sleeping in clothes makes you sweat and get colder.”
Zzzip— Her zipper went down.
“So...”
Plop. Clothes hit the floor. Even her functional undies tossed aside. Elma, fully naked.
“Skin-to-skin is survival 101!”
Brazen logic. Stranded, my ass—she'd even brought a gas heater. But any urge to call her out vanished. Pale barley skin dotted with cute freckles. Deep shadows from lantern light on her breasts. Sharp curve of her hips. Plump thighs and juicy butt. I swallowed hard.
“You too, Darling! Strip or freeze!”
“Y-yeah, if that's what the leader says.”
I obediently undressed. Lay naked on the sleeping bag.
“Come on in.”
“Heehee.”
Way too chipper for a 'stranded survivor.' She wriggled inside. Like a caterpillar burrowing into a cocoon.
