Fanfic time: Misfits part 23

Continued from yesterday:

  Pietro went “Awp,” and was silent for one very long minute. “You wouldn’t,” he finally babbled. “It’s too cruel. You couldn’t." 

  "I would too,” Freddy said, looking more serious and scary than he ever had. “I ain’t no barber, but I sheared sheep before. I’ll make you look like Daniels." 

  The speedster’s eyes rolled up in a dead faint. Fred held him in midair and blinked, turning him sideways a little to watch his head flop. Tabitha came back with her soda and a permanent marker. 

  "Now can I draw on him?" 

+

  The kitchen wasn’t that clean to begin with. Todd found the remains of a bagel and restaurant style cream-cheese containers on the table and there were several dishes stacked in the sink. It still looked yards better than the Boarding house kitchen, but it wasn’t the immaculate room he’d been expecting. It felt kind of homy. 

  Sara tsked at it and immediately began sorting through the mess. Todd gently took her hands away from it. "Leave it, yo. They got kids here who probly get paid to clean up after each other. You’d be messin’ wit their system." 

  She sighed forlornly at the mess and Todd finally gave in and cleared the table while she rummaged for a cooking pot. The pot was filled and set on the stove for boiling, and Todd was hired to watch it while Sara looked through the fridge. There were carrots, celery, and a variety of meats, some pre-marinated and some not, wrapped and labeled in white butcher paper. Sara chose a cut of mutton that was tender to the touch. An onion was found in the hanging basket near the window. 

  The only thing needed next was gravy powder, found in the spice cabinet after a short search. Sara and Todd took turns chopping the onion since the fumes irritated tears from both of them. The water was boiling gently by the time they’d finished chopping the vegetables. Sara had already added the mutton to sear it, having to rescue it from Todd who seemed fascinated with poking it, and the gravy powder had turned the water nice and dark. The vegetables were added last. Sara placed a lid over it to let it simmer. 

  "Now,” she said brightly, “We can get started on the dumplings." 

~

  Todd boggled at the array of ingredients Sara had found. Flour, cinnamon, ground cloves, mixed spice, all spice, nutmeg, brown sugar, several dried fruits - what the hell was ‘suet’? And why did it come in a mix? Butter and a solitary egg lurked amidst all the spices. 

  "Whoah,” he said. “You an’ me got a whole differen’ world, babe…" 

  "Oh? How so?” Sara weighed some flour into a large measuring cup. 

  “When Mom used t’ make dumplin’s, she’d just wet the flour down. Nana Kurbalowitz used t’ knead drippin’ in 'em. Ain’t never heard o’ no 'suet’." 

  "You’re probably lucky,” Sara weighed out half as much of the suet stuff. It was yellowish and smelled greasy. “It’s basically concentrated fat. The best stuff is harvested from around the kidneys of cows. They also used to render it for tallow - which made marvellous candles.” Sara dumped the yellow stuff in and proceeded to work it through the flour with her fingers. 

  “Yo’ puttin’ yo’ *hands* in it?" 

  "I *did* wash them." 

  ”…ick…“ 

  Sara reached for the spices and liberally added them into the mixture. "You need to rub the suet in to make it fluffier, dear,” She absently patted her hands clean on her pants. “And besides, part of adulthood is handling things far ickier than processed cow kidney-fat." 

  "But still…" 

  "Need I remind you that you were voluntarily poking dead sheep parts, earlier?" 

  "That was *sheep*?" 

  "Peculiar, isn’t it?” Sara added a liberal dose of brown sugar and stirred the spices in. The kitchen filled with the finer particles of the stuff and Todd was instantly taken back to Nana Kurbalowitz’s kitchen. All that was missing was the persistant odour of cat pee. Sara continued, heedless of Todd’s recollection. “Lamb is lamb until it’s a year old, then it becomes a hogget - don’t blame me, blame ancient England… a year or two later, it becomes mutton - old sheep. With cows, it’s just beef and veal.” She made a hollow in the brownish powders and seized the egg. 

  {whp–CRK!} Sara’s hand was a blur as she neatly broke the shell. Unlike the TV chefs, though, she preferred to seperate it with both hands. 

  Todd had to smile as she obsessively placed the shell in the biodegradables bin and washed her hands again. The entire process was hypnotising. 

  A spoon and a few, deft movements with the butter added some yellow chunks to the middle, and then she began to stir. She started from the centre, making sure she broke the yolk, and moved increasingly outwards until the blob in the middle got too thick. 

  It was something to watch her manipulate a gigantic milk carton so that it delivered a tiny dose to the bowl. 

  “Want to stir? You need to get the feel of it.” Sara offered him the spoon. 

  Tentatively, he had a go. “Man, this stuff’s gooey,” he marvelled. “Ngh… How do you not break your wrists, yo?" 

  "Practice.” Sara retrieved the spoon and made sure the bowl was free of errant powder. “Next, the dried fruit of your choice." 

  _Oooh, the fun part…_ grinning, he grabbed some maraschino cherries, both red and green, the apricots, and some red stuff that proclaimed to be mango. "Just show me where to put the faces, babe." 

  Sara giggled. "It’s supposed to go all *through* the dumplings, dear. Would you like some nuts as well? It’s sort of a protein kicker, I guess." 

  An evil idea formed as Todd selected the flaked almonds. "These’ll do.” _And if fuzzbutt steals any, I’ll tell him they’re bugs._ 

  “Excellent. A handful each should do nicely." 

  Todd added generous handfuls. 

  "Marvellous,” Sara cooed, folding them in with a touch of extra milk. “This is hideously bad for you long-term, but (oof) I rather suspect it’s got everything you need." 

  "Man, it’s like bread dough." 

  "Exactly. Technically, it’s a scone mix, but, the principal is the same. *Traditionally*, we should wrap these up in little cloaks and steam them in the oven, *but*… since I couldn’t find any cheesecloth, we’ll have to go with plan B." 

  "What dat?" 

  "Pop 'em in the soup.” Sara grinned. She measured out more flour into a little bowl and laid out a clean tea-towel nearby. “Now the fun part. We take a walnut-dollop,” she scooped one out, and plopped it onto the flour, “Flour it lightly, and roll it into a neat little ball. Careful not to knead it. Put the done ones on the towel and we’ll put them all in at once." 

  "Why all at once?” Todd got a glob and tried to follow her actions. 

  “They go bad if you open the pot in the first fifteen minutes. They need the heat and the steam, you see.” Her movements were quick and well-practiced. 

  Todd’s were slow, but he was improving. “These mighty small dumplin’s, sweetie." 

  "They expand like the dickens, though,” she said. Fortunately, we have a glass lid for the pot, so you can watch them try to take over the world.“ 

  "Narf,” said Todd. 

  They spent the rest of their dumpling-rolling time riffing from _Pinky and the Brain_ until they’d formed a quasi-episode. 

  Dumplings done, Sara turned up the heat in the soup and added a generous amount of liquid, watching as it came back to the boil. “Beware splashback, dear,” she cautioned as they both lifted the towel by the corners. “Ready?" 

  "Ready." 

  "Pour!" 

  They avalanched into the pot. Sara covered it and set a timer for twenty minutes. 

  Todd got a stool. "Man, they startin’ already!" 

  The kitchen filled with agonisingly delicious odours.

~~

  Lance sighed and shoved Pietro’s body toward Tabitha, who promptly squealed with glee while dragging him off to the living room couch. He dared to poke his head around the doorframe to see that she’d dragged out Todd’s case of colouring pens from its hiding place beneath the couch. What was it about Tabby that enabled her to find and abuse other people’s sacred belongings? He turned away as she began painting rainbow swirlies on Pietro’s face. 

  "So what now?” Fred asked, having no qualms whatsoever about watching the art show. 

  “Well, if they’re fine… Xavier can’t keep 'em there by force. Todd’ll come back, he always does. Even if he stays for a while to make sure she’s okay, he’ll eventually get sick of those losers giving him grief. Joining them for the sake of a girl doesn’t work. I’ve tried,” Lance said wryly. “So what we do now I guess, is just wait." 

  "If anyone hurts them,” Fred growled. It wasn’t necessary to finish the threat. 

  “Yeah, I know,” Lance smiled. “We’ll be ready to kick ass if they need us to. In the meantime, though, we should be trying to take care of other things. Like food.” He looked at Freddy speculatively, in a new light. “Hey, you ever think of becoming a bouncer?" 

+

  Kurt really hated American text books. Especially the history ones. Why bother calling it American History? Why not be accurate and call it Patriotically Biased Fiction? The propaganda was blindingly obvious. "Santa Ana gave them several warnings,” he muttered to the sheet of paper in front of him. Assigned review questions on his gullibility. Blah. “He told them they would all live if they surrendered.” This was an old textbook. It even had a picture of Santa Ana’s portrait scowling darkly in the upper right hand corner. “He did not open fire the moment he got in range,” Kurt then told the stubborn sentence in the book that stated the opposite. “Even though he had the right to as they were on his property. Mein Gott.” He had enough and slammed the book shut. “Can’t wait for when they get to WWII. Won’t that be a joy." 

  Kurt leaned back in his desk chair and drew in a long breath. He held it in, because something smelled - Kurt took another whiff - heavenly. And he was hungry from all this forced reading. Kurt pulled away from his chair and ported downstairs to see what was cooking. 

+

  He ended up in the hall upwind from the kitchen; sulfur was a rather disconcerting smell when one was cooking. He stalked down the corridor, taking liberal breaths of what was wafting from the kitchen. It was truly heavenly. Kurt sidled up to the wall and peeked around the door. He blinked at the sight of Todd and Sara sitting by the stove, watching a pot of something. 

  Kurt couldn’t determine what it was, but he wouldn’t be too proud to beg at this point. He hesitated in making himself known, since both their backs were to him, and they seemed at ease in the kitchen more than he could ever have imagined. Or maybe they were just at ease with each other? Watching them helped take his mind off the food. Kurt read them as they waited. 

  Todd looked thinner than normal and hungry at whatever was simmering - for that Kurt certainly couldn’t blame him. He was leaning close to Sara however, not letting hunger distract him from the fact that there was a girl he liked sitting next to him. Remarkable, so that helped dispell the myth of one-tracked minds in the Brotherhood. 

  Sara was poised and quiet, her body language had a bit of nervousness to it - also entirely understandable. Kurt had to admit, busting into the Brotherhood house to 'rescue’ her had probably not left the greatest of impressions. Todd seemed to be the one having a calming effect on her. His brain immediately went back to puzzling over Todd’s eerie calmness. Kurt half expected him to be jumping off the walls, demanding to know when the food was ready. With anyone else, he probably would have been - but no, here he was acting mature. Kurt shook his head, unable to get over how weird it was seeing the frog-boy so still. 

  Stillness and serenity was Kurt’s forte (as if he any extra help in getting noticed anyway), just as being loud and abrasive to grab attention of those he liked, was Tolensky’s. Todd wasn’t even keeping himself entertained with one-liners he was famous for getting himself smacked for. 

  Kurt smirked. Being in love changed a person, or so it seemed. 

~

  If there was such a thing as a double-take of the nose, that’s what Logan was doing right now. He hadn’t smelled that sort of thing in ages. Rich, sweet, and oozing calories just by odour. 

  _Damn, I thought some idiots had *banned* that…_ He stalked upwind, following the scent to the kitchen window. Damn, that smell took him back. Nobody had made that dish in forever. 

  He entered by the back door, breathing the sweetness deep and wallowing in memory. 

  "Uh. Hello. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?" 

  "Logan,” said Logan, internally slightly furious that he had to look *up* at a sixteen-year-old girl[1]. “Got enough o’ that to go around, Tallwater?" 

  "I should certainly hope so,” she said. 

  “Yo, those dumplin’s’re tryin’ to climb out, sweets…" 

  "They do that. Just hold the lid down if they make a spirited attempt." 

  "Did I hear the word 'dumplings’? I thought Americans banned them,” Elf appeared by some sympathetic magic at one of the other doors. 

  Stinkboy looked - trapped. Tallwater appeared to be vaguely exasperated. “You have…” she glanced at a clock, “seven more minutes until it’s ready. Until then, I’m afraid Todd and I will have to defend the pot against random predations." 

  Elf chuckled and exaggeratedly put his hands in his pockets. "Jawohl, Fraulein. I’m keeping my knuckles out of range." 

  Logan took the hint from Stinkboy’s guarded stance and backed into a handy corner. "I can wait,” he said. 

+

  Todd was certain that he wasn’t showing how nervous he felt. There he was, in the same room as the psycho and the freako… people who’d kicked his ass and then threatened to chop it off in the past. And he had to maintain a more casual and brave front for Sara, who had enough to deal with already. 

  And then she took his hand in hers and gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

He looked up at her looking down at him with a reassuring half-smile on her peeling features, and felt the need to explain the subtext. “Us three got a history." 

  "It doesn’t have to repeat,” she assured. “Meals can bring people together, you know." 

  Todd thought of tomato soup and melted velveeta on wonderbread and grinned. "Yeah…" 

+

  Sara felt the blush rising as Todd’s face got that gooey smitten look. She didn’t deserve this much attention, and kept subconsciously waiting for the trap. The catch. The laughter. 

  The fluttering under her eye wasn’t going away on its own. It was subtly spreading. Her entire skin felt like it was shivering by itself and her scalp was crawling as if she were wearing a skull-cap that was making a break for freedom. She was currently, as Nanna Adrien would put it, feeling three colours of miserable. 

  But the pot was warm, and Todd’s presence was even warmer… but any minute, now, Mother was going to wonder where she was. 

  She was bound to be over her hangover, by now. 

  _Just try to remain calm,_ Xavier’s voice rang into the middle of her head like a temple bell. _I’m explaining things to her, now._ 

  She got a mental image, like a dream, watching Ororo watching Sara play the harp, Vlad, in the music room… a medly of classical pieces, for which Vlad took a minor nick out of Sara’s hand. That was how his staff were supposed to discover her. 

  The cover story that Mother would accept. 

  "Truth is a negligable concept around here, isn’t it?” Sara wondered aloud. 

  “Huh?” said Todd. 

  “Right at this moment, Professor Xavier is lying to my mother–” twitch, “–about where I’ve been yesterday. Every day, people leave here and give others the illusion that they’re nothing but mundane. So long as everyone has a story to tell, everything is seen to be perfect…" 

  "For the record,” said Kurt, “the last time I went out like this in a strange town? I was nearly burned at the stake." 

  "Well, yes, some lies are understandable, but–" 

  {tweeeeeep!} 

  ”–Oh. Dinner’s ready.“ She found large bowls for four and automatically ladled out generous portions. "I’ve found that there’s a limited amount of lies one can perpetuate until the entire house of cards goes flumph.” She shrugged and ensured Todd had a bowl and a spoon. “I keep getting the feeling that I’m very close to an edge." 

Logan snagged a bowl. "I’d relax,” he said. “Chuck can make his lies stand up in a court of law." 

  Kurt, spoon already in his mouth, began to purr. 

+

  _Oh, man, I think I’m puttin’ on weight from the smell…_ Todd sank into a chair and tried to mimic Sara’s daintiness as he got his first spoonful. What greeted his tongue was a surprisingly sweet and flavourful brew that warmed him up from the stomach outwards. 

  ”…oh *man*…“ he sighed. 

  "Just what the doctor ordered,” Sara smiled. “In this case, literally." 

  They fell to silence as they fell in. 

  If Todd had needed any further convincing, this meal would have been it. This was the exact degree of comfort and succour he’d needed. And having her by his side was also way more than a little help. 

  How had she known? 

  "Miss Adrien?” Hank said, appearing in a doorway. “When you’ve completed your repast, your written tests have been prepared." 

  Sara sighed. "I suppose it’s for the best,” she said. “You *do* have to know exactly what I’m incapable of." 

  Todd winced, and squeezed her hand. "It be coo’, babe. You do fine." 

 [1] Logan’s short. Marvel Encyclopedia says 5'3”

~~