croissant happy hour

[herr_bookman]

"...but still will keep"--and here a pause--"a bower quiet for us, and a sleep," Autor recites. "Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.*"

The boy pats Bar, bidding her a goodnight before he hops over the counter. He takes a few moments to take secret things out of his sylladex and to review his list. Then he writes a message on the blackboard in neat, flowing script:

Croissants with Surprise Fillings
All Vegetarian
Unfilled Also Available
He sets his blue, twenty-sided die on the counter, and waits for the first customer.

*Endymion: Book I, by John Keats

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Autor was about to say something smug and flippant to Dr. Lecter--he'd even prepared the smirk--but Rae's look arrests him, and forces him to swallows his words. His mouth works as he watches her, suddenly ashamed and unable to tear his eyes away.

[cook_the_rude]

"Did a dragon just appear behind me?" Dr. Lecter asks, smiling at Autor.

[sunbaked_baker]

There is no clearer way for Rae to communicate her intense feelings of What the hell are you doing? than this look. Words would likely be a step down in clarity, at this point.

They'd talked about this. About being smart and staying away from serial killers. About not goading serial killers. And here Autor is, having obviously approached Dr. Lecter. Left his place tending happy hour to follow after him. And now he's making snarky remarks to him!

Rae spends a lot of her older sisterly feelings at home wishing her teen brothers would make smarter life choices in the hopes that they'll survive longer - she hadn't expected to need to spend so many of them here, as well.

Setting her jaw, Rae comes the rest of the way down the stairs, and makes her way across the bar room towards Autor and the table where Dr. Lecter sits.

[herr_bookman]

And now she's approaching--Autor knew she would, but he still struggles to rein in his panic. That look of hers still sears him to the bone, to the marrow, and eventually he finds enough air to clear his throat.

"Evening, Rae," the boy says, voice small. "Would you like a croissant?"

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter turns around and smiles at her.

"Hello, Rae," he says. "I was wondering if you'd turn up."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Wouldn't miss it," she replies, in a tone that would be light if not for the steel behind it. "I'd like to try my luck with a croissant or two, definitely, but it seems our happy hour host has gone walkabout."

'Strayed' seemed a little too on the nose.

"Mind excusing us, Dr. Lecter?"

She'd like to have a private conversation with the bartender.

[herr_bookman]

Autor blinks at Dr. Lecter, as if he'd forgotten that the man was there. "Ah," he says to him. "Yes, please... please excuse us."

Rae's tone galvanizes his spine, and he gestures to the bar. "Shall we?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Of course," Dr. Lecter says, "if our mutual friend has finished with me?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Sounds like he has," Rae says, nodding to indicate to Autor that he should lead the way. She doesn't add 'for now', but she can hear it, nonetheless.

[herr_bookman]

"I have, Dr. Lecter," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "Enjoy your croissant."

He turns from the man, feeling Rae's eyes on his back, and wends his way to the bar. Once he reaches it, he hops over the counter and picks up his die to fiddle with it, staring at his hands.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter sits back, sipping his wine and looking at them.

[sunbaked_baker]

A good percentage of Rae wants to simply wring the boy's neck and make a stated question, along the lines of, What the fuck, Autor.

But instead she makes herself sit, sliding onto a barstool and resting her elbows on the bar.

"So... croissant? Or do you want to tell me what you were hoping to accomplish, back there?"

[herr_bookman]

"Croissant first," Autor says, rolling his die. He feels parched; while his voice doesn't quite crack, the words come out broken. His eyes stray from the die--which has come up four--to Dr. Lecter again, and then back to Rae's face.

"Mashed, spiced yams," he says quietly, plating the croissant. "Would you like a drink with it?"

And then he whispers, "Rae... Can he still hear us?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Smells delicious, Autor," she says, seeing the croissant. "Tea, I think. That citrus-lavender blend."

Rae hesitates taking a bite of the pastry, instead tearing off the end to let the earthy, spicy scented steam rise from the yam filling.

"I wouldn't think so, over this distance," Rae murmurs back, "but if the possibility bothers you..." She concentrates, making a lowering motion with her hand. A translucent veil descends around them, blocking the ambient chatter of the bar from their hearing and likewise blocking the sounds of their voices from the rest of the bar.

Even if she had learned about that spell from Balthazar during her night in the cells, not wanting Eric to spend the time listening to her racing heartbeat as her nightmares plagued her, it has come in handy.

[herr_bookman]

"Of course," Autor says, inclining his head and turning to his already-prepped kettle. He'd once told her that her citrus-lavender tea was her blend for calming down and thinking about something, but also her fallback for when things go to hell. They certainly have at that.

His eyes widen slightly at the veil, and he makes a small squeak of surprise. "That's quite clever," he says, poking it. "Consider me envious of your abilities, again."

Nimble fingers assemble her tea ball, and he drapes the chain across the rim of a cup with a golden rim. He adds steaming hot water, and dips the ball in a 3/4th rhythm, thinking. "So, to answer your question... You're going to think me ridiculously stupid--more so than you already do," he says, keeping his gaze locked to the tea, "but I... I wanted to find out why he was leaving me alone."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae considers this, and considers the croissant.

"Seems to me," she starts, frowning a little at the pastry, "that's exactly what he was counting on you doing."


"He's always ignored your desire that he leave you alone. Always. You try to leave, he doesn't let you; you ask him to go, he doesn't. Every time you make it clear you don't want anything to do with him. Until one day he respects your wishes, trusting that the jarringly unfamiliar circumstance will be enough to make you forget you want nothing to do with him, to make you forget what he is, in favor of your curiosity."

[herr_bookman]

Autor winces as her words strike true, again and again. "He was right," the boy says, counting off the times he dips her tea ball. "I chased right after him. It... His leaving me alone was a reward, for acting in a manner that was pleasing. He was giving me space."

He nudges her tea towards her, furrowing his brow. He still can't meet her eye. "I'm... I'm sorry, Rae."

[sunbaked_baker]

She doesn't take the tea. Not yet.

"Reward? What, like positive reinforcement? Like giving a treat after teaching a dog to sit? If... if he's hoping to train you to not just tolerate his company but seek him out, you did exactly what he wanted, Autor."

[herr_bookman]

Autor doesn't wince at this--he flinches. He exhales noisily and rests his closed fists on the bar top. "Ugh. That's appalling," he says, wrinkling his nose. "I don't want to seek him out. I don't want to learn from him. I don't want anything to do with him at all."

He says, though he knows his actions over the past few weeks leave much to be desired.

[sunbaked_baker]

"'Learn from him'?" Rae echoes, picking up her tea. "What does he expect you to learn from him?"

"For that matter, what does he expect you to want to learn from him?"

[herr_bookman]

"I have no idea," Autor says, knowing that if he thought about it for just a moment, he probably could figure it out. He turns to prepare his own tea ball--ginger-lime for him.

"Dr. Lecter wants me to be more like him--to poke people and watch what happens," he muses, almost to himself. "He wants me to learn--no, refine--my ability to do that. He says he can... see me as an equal someday."

And Autor can't say that wasn't tempting.

[sunbaked_baker]

"To be more like a cannibalistic murderer? To be equal to a serial killer who makes people believe they're paranoid, and... makes them doubt themselves and their friends? How tempting, I don't think. Ugh," she says, flat and faintly disgusted with the idea.

"So he wants you poking people to see what happens?" Rae murmurs, sipping her tea to give her hands something to do. It is delicious, and does some good. At least it helps her stay calm. "That sounds a bit like how you were when you had just started coming here, back when we first met. A long time ago, now."

A tiny smile turns up the corner of her mouth, as she remembers. "We were making croissants then, too, you remember?"

At last, Sunshine takes that first bite of her croissant, her smile growing as she chews. It's warm and spicy-sweet with the spiced yam, flaky and buttery on the outside as a good croissant must be. She swallows, satisfied, and though her smile lingers in fondness for her friend, her gaze is serious. "You've come a long way since then, Autor, and not just in your baking skills. You've grown as a person, well past what he wants you to be."

"It'd be a terrible waste, to let him hijack your story like that."

[herr_bookman]

Autor watches avidly as she takes the first bite, storing her face away in his memory to play back later. His smile is brief and unsure, his confidence shaken. She must've been reading his mind. "I remember. I poked at you, testing you. I was mean," he says, turning away slightly. "But we did make croissants."

He pours a steaming hot cup of water, and dips his tea ball into it. "And it would be a shame. A great shame," he says, and then whispers, wide-eyed, "Can you imagine if he'd gotten to me first, Rae? If he was my teacher instead of you?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"No, I can't," she admits, searching his face with her gaze. "I don't know that person, and I don't know that I'd want to. I'm glad I don't."

"I want you to be like you, Autor, not like him. My friend, who's clever and sweet and kind, who mocks bad movies and is amazingly awesome at alliteration, who knows when tea is needed, who helps his friends when they're hurting, who finds ancient recipes for legendary burn ointments, and loves stories and finding out new things. And who shushes people in the library when they need shushing, even if the books in question deserved to be laughed at."

"But I worry that he'll continue to try and capitalize on your curiosity, and influence you to believe that you are like him, in the way he influenced you to believe you were paranoid, and tried to influence me to believe the same. You mustn't... seek him out."

[herr_bookman]

Autor dips his head during her praise, staring at his shoes. Color steals across his face, tinting his cheeks a dusky rose. He indulges in his tea, wetting his throat before he speaks again, though his voice still comes out as a warm, whispered croak. "You sure know how to complement me, Rae. Thank you."

But he nods. "You are right, though, in that he'll try to capitalize on my curiosity. I won't seek him out, I promise," he says, running his thumb across the rim of his cup. "I admit he has a hold on me. I was thinking about him the other day, and I think... No, I know that I sort of... I kind of think of him as a father figure." The boy glances at his knuckles. "He's what I'm used to."