(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine isn't feeling too hot, today. The occasional coughing fits are getting to be a real pain, even on top of the aches and chills from the cold and lack of sleep. Rae has had enough caffeine, though, that she feels almost half-normal. And if she feels almost half-normal, surely she looks half-normal?

And besides, she promised there would be pie. So there is pie. And happy hour, at Bar's suggestion, because why not go for broke and do both?

Happy Hour Specials
Spiced Hot Apple Cider
All hot drinks 1/2 price

Freshly-baked Pies
(whole or by the slice - ice cream available on request)
Apple
Cherry
Spiced Peach (courtesy of Kate Barlow)
Blueberries-and-Cream
Pumpkin
Pecan
Lemon Meringue
Coconut Cream

And there is also a baker in a green sweater, jeans, and fuzzy red socks, clutching a cup of hot cider and trying to stay warm.

"Happy Hour, Milliways," she calls with a slight smile. "What'll it be?"

(ooc: May be in and out for the next two hours for work, but will be around after that. Post is open forever. :D)

Comments

[poins]

"Fair Lady Sunshine!" Poins exclaims, happy to see her as he's walking over to lean upon the bar. "Hot apple cider! Pies! Methinks I am in heaven!"

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'd expect it to be warmer in heaven, Ned," Rae replies with a smile, ladling him a mug of the hot spiced cider. "But I hope Milliways will suffice for now."

[poins]

"If hell is hot, would heaven not be cold?" Poins wonders. "But thank you: heaven or hell, the cider is most welcome."

He drinks, and sighs happily.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oppressive cold could be just as hellish as the heat, if not more. Heaven should be sunny and warm, with a cool breeze," she declares. "Or else I'd not be happy, and it'd not be heavenly."

Though Rae is not a scholar on the subject, not by a long shot.

"Would you like some pie?"

[poins]

"Of course I would; I thank you very much, sweet Lady Sunshine, and shall be humbly grateful for unhumble pie," Poins says, grinning at her.

[no_more_hiding]

"Could I have some pumpkin pie?" asks a hopeful young man in a lab coat and glasses. His nose is also red as if it had recently been hit.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Of course," Rae says with a slightly tired smile, moving to cut a piece from the still-warm pie. "Would you like any ice-cream with it, or something to drink?"

[no_more_hiding]

"Actually the cider would be nice if it's not alcoholic? And maybe some ice in a bag? I hit my nose when my Door disappeared."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Ouch," she winces, sympathetically, moving to fetch some ice from the freezer. "Yeah, I was going to ask. That looks painful."

As Rae offers him the ice-filled bag, she adds, "The cider's non-alcoholic, so you should be fine." (Sorry, Poins!)

[the_cupbearer]

"The cider sounds quite good," Ganymede says, by way of introduction.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Just the thing for a chilly autumn evening," she agrees with a tired grin, turning to ladle the fragrantly steaming drink into a mug for him.

[the_cupbearer]

"Are you well, my lady?" he asks, gratefully accepting the mug and wrapping his hands around it. "Wine bottles are often so cold that my hands are always chilled," Ganymede murmurs.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Tired, mostly. I've not been sleeping as well as usual."

Which wasn't that good to begin with.

"And the weather's not to my liking - probably won't be until the sun comes back."

[vance_prime]

"Is the cider alcoholic or not?" inquires the Afro-Asian woman carrying the five-month-old baby in a sling.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Nope!" answers the baker with a slight, tired smile. "I figured people can add their own if they wanted it alcoholic - there's no shortage for choice, after all."

It is the best-stocked bar in all of creation.

[vance_prime]

"Then I'll have some of that, for a starter."

"Dah bl," the baby informs Sunshine very seriously.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, should I make that a double?" Rae says with a smirk at the baby and a grin for the mother as she stirs the simmering pot of cider with the ladle. "Kiddo says it should be a double, Mom."

[pickledtribute]

Haymitch doesn't bother to stop at the bar. He just comes right around and picks a few bottles off the shelf at random.

It's the last night before crowning. Tomorrow night be boards a train.

Tonight, he's getting smashed.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Would you like a piece of pie to go with that?" she asks, not moving to stop him.

[pickledtribute]

"Sure, Red." He still manages to have amazing enunciation despite the alcohol's effect on his balance. Amazing how things work when you earn a reputation at a young age for fast hands and a faster mouth.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Any particular kind, or shall I pick?"

[dark_ex_watcher]

Happiness is a novelty for Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, but he's actually in a modestly good mood this evening, and the prospect of a pie promises to make it even better.

There are quite a few choices there, though, and none of them particularly English, which is not necessarily a bad thing.

"What would you suggest?"

[sunbaked_baker]

The red-head smiles, friendly despite being tired. "In honor of the season, I'd suggest some spiced cider to keep out the autumnal chill, and a slice of pumpkin pie. Maybe with some ice cream."

[dark_ex_watcher]

"That does sound wonderful, thank you."

"I guess I should celebrate it. It's the first I'm having since I was, well, dead."

Was dead, being far better to say than is dead.

[sunbaked_baker]

She blinks at him upon hearing dead used in past tense. And if for a moment it looks as though she's looking at him with more than her eyes, well, it's not an illusion.

Rae is pretty hopeless at illusions, anyway.

Once she is sure that this man isn't some kind of undead, she feels comfortable enough to turn and ladle him a mug of the hot, fragrant cider, saying with a slight smile, "Sounds like something well worth celebrating."