Cookies!

Jan. 12th, 2004 11:58 pm
[identity profile] uruviel.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] spaceport_weini
It doesn't take very long to ask around, and soon I have everything I need to make a really large, extremely delicious batch of chocolate chip cookies. I've even been shown to a small kitchen, which makes me think that I'm not the first of the spaceport's guests to have a yen for something self cooked.

Did I say everything? I'm missing something. Where's Arthur? I attach a note to the door of the kitchen, explaining that it's still in use, I just had to run and get something, and go searching for my bathrobed friend.

Date: 2004-01-14 11:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
"No, sir I am sorry, I can't help you. As I have stated at least seven times now, I am not for rent! Please, go away! Yes, I -know- I'm wearing a bathrobe, but again, may I stress it is not for ease of access! Please, I'm getting a headache. Go away."

With a sigh, I turn, seeking escape from this utterly rude person who seems to find me compelling. That tells me right there he's quite off his rocker.

"Uruviel! Thank goodnes, I'm so glad to see you. Were you looking for me? I hope so, please say you were."

Date: 2004-01-15 03:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
Grinning widely, amazed that you actually managed this small miracle. I don't think I've even seen a kitchen since leaving Earth, much less been in one! Well, it's not like I ever used the kitchen in my house for much more than a convenient counter for my houseplants to die on, but well, at least it was a kitchen. There's something cosy about them, no matter what you use them for.

But she intends to bake me cookies, and that is a perfect use for a kitchen.

"I see! This is a treat. Quite a treat, indeed! I'll tell you what. I will attempt to brew us a proper English tea while you bake. There's nothing as comforting as tea and cookies. Well. Except for tea and freshly baked cookies. Baked by you."

And yes, I'm stammering now. Oh well.

Date: 2004-01-16 05:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
I turn the box marked "Tea" round and round in my hands. Dare I read the label more closely? I have to.

Genuine imitation Earl Grey tea from Methorphia IV - a British colony settlement planet. Guaranteed to be nearly almost quite like a shadow of the real stuff, if anyone remembers what the real stuff was like, anyway. Warning: Prolonged usage may result in loss of short term memory. Enjoy!

Wincing, I look up and see Uruviel peacefully baking. Suddenly, the tea seems fine, the kitchen seems like heaven and all's right with the world. I move to put the kettle on.

Date: 2004-01-17 11:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
"Ah, raw cookie dough! My own mum used to chase me out of the kitchen when I was a lad, for fear she'd only get two cookies baked. I love this stuff!"

I nibble happily on the cookie dough, and watch Uruviel putter about with more preparations. The kettle starts to softly whistle.

It's very difficult right now to remember that I'm actually in space at a strange resort, and not in Islington back on Earth. I'm more content this moment than I've been since leaving my planet, and the one I have to thank for that is an elf from another dimension. Seems fitting somehow.

"Thank you."

I don't bother explaining why I'm thanking her, but I do get up my nerve to give her a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile.

Date: 2004-01-17 11:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
"Ah, mugs. How very American. No, we won't be using mugs. I'm going to attempt to make you a proper cup of English tea, in spite of this box." I frown again at the box, but add the leaves to a china pot I've located and pour the hot water in to let them steep.

"There must be china cups and saucers here, let me see, let me see, AH. Yes."

I've managed to locate some cups with the Ritz logo embossed in gold on the sides. Quite nice cups, actually. The tea steeped, I pour us each a cupful."

"So then. Milk? One lump or two?"

So nice to be asking such pleasantries, rather than the questions I've been asking of late, things like 'So, this is it, we're all going to die' or 'Zaphod, I don't think you should push that button'.

"The cookies smell wonderful!"

Date: 2004-01-17 06:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
Dosing my cup with a splash of milk and one cube, I settle in happily at the kitchen table.

"Americans have no sense of proper tea. Their country is filled with espresso stands and fast food shops and instant everything. They have the audacity to confine tea to small filter bags, which are left to go quite stale before they are ready to be sold. The stuff's quite nasty, let me tell you."

Pausing, I realize I'm off on one of my more common rants.

"I'm sorry, it's a topic I shouldn't be allowed near. I've now managed to spend nearly five years traveling the galaxy in search of a proper cup of tea. You have no idea how rare it can be."

So, then. Enough of me and my boring little world woes. Tell me about your home, I'd love to hear of something pleasant from your lands while we enjoy our tea and cookies!

Date: 2004-01-19 08:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
"Wait, wasn't Aragorn King? And, um, Luthien, I know that name, she's from that really boring volume Tolkien wrote. I have a copy, er, had a copy, it made a delightful doorstop."

Oh, that was probably the wrong thing to say. These are her friends and family I'm dismissing here. Good work, Arthur.

"Jade is your boss, I remember. Um, this means you work in Mandos, too? I'll try to refrain from jokes about how most jobs are hellish, but I make no promise on how long I can stifle them. I guess the most surprising thing about all of this is to know that you live in crazy surroundings, but somehow, you've remained very sweet and normal. That's commendable."

Date: 2004-01-21 03:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
I can't help but laugh. Simple is about the last word I'd use to describe you.

"Well, if you're not worried about the confusion back home, then I won't either. I wonder if there are any worlds left that ARE normal?"

"But more importantly, I'm wondering how many of these cookies I can eat before you are appalled at my gluttony." I give a hopeful look at the cooling rack heaped with cookies.

"I haven't had a home baked cookie in years now. These are wonderful! Of course, tomorrow when I'm in sugar shock, I'll regret it, but for now, I really don't care."

Date: 2004-01-22 02:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dent-panic.livejournal.com
"Frankly, I'm surprised we haven't had trespassers peeking in the kitchen door from the smell of the cookies wafting about. That Duncan character is always looking for an excuse to make me jump, I keep expecting to turn around and..."

Carefully, I turn around, wincing as I look towards the kitchen door. Amazingly, no one is there!

"Hopefully the others guests have him occupied for the night. And no, I don't want to know what that might mean. I just want to eat cookies and drink my tea, and perhaps, hold a soft, warm hand for a little while, if I might?"

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