milliways_bar | (no subject)

Baze is sore as all get out when he approaches the bar tonight, and sports a vivid bruise on the side of his face. His hands have been smeared with balm and bandaged, at Chirrut's insistence.

Still, he's in a good mood, and smiles to see the intrepid baker. He settles his armored bulk on a bar stool, receives a mug of hot chocolate and tang bark from bar, and leans over to the baker to say, "Those look delicious."

Oswin, deeply involved in the scientific process of piping filling onto macarons, pauses, and looks up.

And up.

That's... a whole lot of body goin' on. And some of it is armored!

... And he's drinking hot cocoa.

She offers the cookie in her hand, a violently pink creation with dark chocolate insides (matching is for purists, and she's never been one of those), watching him with wide dark eyes.

"Macaron?"

Baze didn't expect to score food out of her. Really, he didn't; he was just commenting on her skills. So he's delighted. "For me?" he says, taking the cookie from her with a gentle touch. "Thank you! I didn't mean to beg. I'm Baze Malbus."

Well, that's certainly at odds with his looks. Oswin feels she can't really judge on looks, considering, and rolls with it.

Or cookies with it, whatever.

"Oswin Oswald, hullo, and if you don't like the raspberry ones I have... well, a lot of other ones and most of them aren't even burnt, much. Some a lot, but on the whole, on an average they are relatively non-burnt which is a bit of a feat considering."

"I don't think I've even ever had a raspberry," Baze muses, biting into the cookie. His face lights up with a broad smile. "Oh, wow, this really is delicious! The filling is chocolate, yes? Nice choice."

He finishes the cookie with a couple more bites, licking filling off his fingers. "Where did you learn to bake?"

Oswin offers up another cookie because watching this man eat is an experience. This one is a vibrant green with a pale pink filling.

"I..." The eggs, Oswin, where did you get the eggs? "I learned it from my mum, sort of. It's a bit of a hobby."

Baze notices the pause, and her face, but chooses not to bring them up until she does.

"A good hobby to have," he says, clearly approving of the second cookie after taking a giant bite, leaving a crumbly, delectable crescent moon of cookie behind in his hand. Stuffing the rest of the treat into his mouth, he chews and swallows, clearly happy with this turn of events. "What's your favorite thing to bake?"

The next one is a purplish-bruise creation with a green filling the color of the grass outside. She already has it waiting in her hand when he swallows the last of the previous one.

"... Souffles, I suppose - they're more like cakes, except very delicate, like a wet sponge that wants to collapse instead of floof up. I have the hardest time with them."

But when you get one right...

"What about you, do you bake?"

She keeps feeding him! Baze isn't going to object, and takes up the next cookie with relish and a word of thanks. His touch is delicate when he lifts the confection from her hand, trying not to touch her without explicit permission, even with a brush of his fingers to her palm. He's learned his lesson well from Rae and YT.

"I've never had a soufflé, so thank you for explaining what they are," he says, flashing a satisfied grin. He takes his time with this cookie, nibbling on it at first--and then giving in and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth, washing it down with his hot chocolate. His fingers have taken on some of the colors of the icings and fillings she's given him, purple and greens and browns. "I don't bake, but I'd like to learn. I haven't had access to more than a hot plate for the last couple of decades, and the kitchen here is almost overwhelming. I can make a mean stew, though."

... Oswin almost never gets food appreciation like this. Autor and Clint like her baking, but otherwise it's pretty hit-or-miss. Mostly miss. She stacks up a series of three - two sunny yellows and a warm orange, balanced neatly on top of each other.

"Well, I mean. I've taught one person! And now he's making better croissants than me, not that I'll ever tell him." Oswin awkwardly offers, because this is... not something that comes up. Ever. Mostly because people have seen the culinary destruction she can leave behind. "But... you know, if you want to, some time..."

Baze beams at her. He's met a lot of people in this bar, and they seem to be consistently kind. He's quickly learning which of them are his favorites, and Oswin seems to be one of them already.

"Thank you! I'd really appreciate that," Baze says. He leans forward, palms up, to clasp her hands in his own, meatier ones, but then he stills again. He draws back, lowering his hands. Rae flinched. So did YT. He has learned his lesson about touching people without permission. Still. The urge to touch, to be tactile, is there, and fiercely so. He misses Chirrut. "What would we make first?"

He hasn't forgotten about the cookies. No, he'll never forget about the cookies. He plucks one up--still delicately--and noms happily.

Edited 2017-04-28 06:50 (UTC)

Oswin blinks at the aborted movement, all clever dark eyes and skeptical red lips.

She eyes Baze's face.

Then his hands.

She reaches out to grab them, because if he won't, she will. Someone taught this bear of a man not to touch and that is a crime against the universe. She'll just have to teach him otherwise.

"Definitely something simple, like.. I don't know, no-bakes, it's hard to mess up no-bakes, even if you're trying - worst case scenario you end up with a pot of chocolate oat fudge that you have to pry out with a spoon."

Baze blinks at her, and then glances from their hands to her face and back to their hands again, as if silently asking if she's sure. She doesn't seem to be letting him go, so he melts into a brilliant smile and winds his fingers around hers. His hands are large and warm and taped up, whereas hers are tiny and cute and smooth.

"Do you actually not bake them?" he says, puzzled. He cocks his head to the side, looking like a giant, lost puppy.

Sweet stars above he's adorable, she's keeping this one.

"You actually don't bake them, you boil the living hell out of them until they become fudgy goodness and then you try not to shove hot fudge in your mouth because that would be a terrible no good idea even if they smell like heaven." Hers is the gift of the oncoming babble, she can keep that up for days.

Baze plays with her fingers, apparently content to be holding her hands. He runs his thumbs over the backs of her knuckles. "I don't think I've ever had fudge," he says, with a quick grin. "What is it?"

Edited 2017-04-28 07:23 (UTC)

"You've... you've never had fudge, oh, that's... Bar. Bar, you've got to fix this 'cause I don't have any on hand and there's still batter on the ceiling, be a chum, be a mate..."

Bar rewards Oswin's pleading with two cookies, probably mostly to shut her up.

Now Baze has a problem. If he picks up the cookie, he has to let go of her hand. Her tiny, cute hand. Hmm.

He solves this problem by letting go of one of her hands. He picks up the cookie, stuffs it into his mouth, and clasps her hand again--quickly. His eyes light up as the taste coats his tongue. "Mmm," he says, chewing. Then he swallows. "That's amazing. I would love to learn how to make these. You boil them? That doesn't make them hard?"

"Well, yeah - before this they're just over-sugared chocolate peanut butter with a whole lot of oats thrown in. Heating sugar is magic, honestly, it's an unreal substance. Also, really hot, do not taste the spoon, just don't do it." She assures him, deeply amused by how he keeps running his fingers over her hands.

"Peanut butter?" Baze says, releasing one of her hands to lay her palm flat on one of his. He pinches her fingers, giving her massage. "Sorry, I don't know that, either. Not a lot of plants grew on Jedha, and we couldn't import much because not many ships came to the planet. We were in the Mid-Rim."

"Oh!" Oswin lights up, "You have space ships! So many people are from Earth here and they have no idea, it is ridiculous."

Baze laughs. It's a booming belly laugh, full of relief and comradery. "I've noticed that! I couldn't believe the first time someone told me they don't have space travel," he says, tweaking her fingers between his own larger ones. "And their moon is named Moon. Isn't that hilarious?"

"Well, I mean, they named their planet after the ground. It's a bit of a theme. Though, my planet is named after an Earth town, so... we don't exactly win awards either." Oswin wrinkles her nose, with a wry grin.

Baze brushes his lips against the tips of her fingers, a brief, respectful kiss. "What's it called?" he says, smiling. "I'd never heard of Earth before I got here."

"New New New New New New New York." Oswin replies, making a careful mental tally in her head of the 'new's. "We... really weren't terribly clever. It's a theme."

"You know, if you want more than my hands, you just have to ask."

"That's a lot of 'New's," Baze says, having lost count halfway through. He looks sheepish at her next statement, not exactly blushing, but almost there.

"Cuddling would be good," he pipes up. "I mean, if you don't mind. I like cuddling."