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[sunbaked_baker]

So often back in her world, Rae is already at work when the sun rises in the morning. Dawn is her favorite time of day, and yet she so rarely gets to see it - really see it - to take in the ending of darkness and bask in the beginning of light. To witness the daily reminder that no darkness lasts forever.

But today she gets to, thanks to Milliways. She is seated on the picnic table near the back door of the bar, with her hands wrapped around a faintly steaming mug of tea, looking out towards the lake and the mountain beyond it, and the brilliantly-colored sky above them. The surface of the lake reflects the brilliant, fiery oranges and reds of the sky in each glimmering wavelet, and the snow-covered peak of the mountain glows golden where the early light touches it.

The early December chill feels good against Rae's skin, still warm from her pre-dawn run around the lake. She is relatively well-rested, her muscles warmed but not wearied by her run, and - almost startlingly - she feels at peace.

Sunshine knows better than to question peace when it comes. So she sits, basking in the sunrise and her own peace while they last.

Comments

[chambermusicandtenpins]

Dumbledore, too, is off to one side of the bar, watching the sun come up. He's content to sip and glance out at it while drinking a warm mug of cocoa, until he spots another patron doing the same.

Nodding towards Rae, he asks "Lovely, isn't it?"

[sunbaked_baker]

She glances over at the man with a smile, in her pink jacket and orange sweatpants and her slightly muddy running shoes, and nods contentedly. "It really is. Don't get to see it often enough, back home."

Rae sometimes wonders if the cold air of winter makes the sunrise's colors more vivid, or if it is just one's own gladness for the return of the light when the days are short that makes them so lovely.

[chambermusicandtenpins]

"Ah, a pity," he says with a small chuckle, returning the glance. "I admit, I do not appreciate sunrises and sunsets as often as I should, either. But they are lovely all the same, noticed or not."

And, truly, they are. He has seen the sun arrived over the hills of Scotland and the buildings of London, glorious in both places, and yet not remotely the same as it looks here.

[sunbaked_baker]

"They are," she agrees, musing, contented to be at peace for now while it lasts. "Perhaps we don't notice their beauty as much as we would otherwise, because they are so reliable. The sun always rises. The sun always sets. Each day follows night follows day."

And here she is, soaking in the early golden light as much as any plant might, let it feed what food cannot.

"Sometimes it's good to remember, and appreciate another sunrise."

[chambermusicandtenpins]

"You're quite right," he says. glancing out the window. "Sunrises are one of the loveliest of a normal day's blessings, and it is good to take note of it sometimes."

After all, there were so many small things in the world that should be appreciated more. Like candies and fair weather and the smell of a good book.

[sunbaked_baker]

The red-haired woman smiles at him. There are faint scars around her neck - burn scars, but well-healed - and others that disappear beneath the collar of her jacket. Set in her skin and hair, so faint that it might go unnoticed, is a webwork of tiny pinpricks of golden light, like a net that might have been thrown over her. It glimmers, occasionally, when the light hits it right, but otherwise is quiescent, barely there at all.

"Usually around this time of the morning, I've been at work in the bakery for a couple hours already, the coffeehouse is opening up, and our earliest customers are arriving and asking for the first of the morning's cinnamon rolls as big as your head, fresh and still hot from the ovens."

[chambermusicandtenpins]

"You work in a bakery? That must be quite the enjoyable work," he says, eyes glittering mischievously at the idea of sweets, especially those rolls. If he notices her scars -- and he notices everything -- he is polite enough not to say anything and let them pass unremarked. "Especially with cinnamon buns that are so very large."

[sunbaked_baker]

She grins at him, though perhaps the tinge of wryness to her grin is her noticing him not remarking on the scars. "Head Baker at Charlie's Coffeehouse in Old Town, New Arcadia, purveyor of all sorts of breads both nutritious and delicious, as well as experimental baked goods and all of the sweetest treats with no redeeming social value that one can hope to encounter."

"My friends call me Sunshine."

[chambermusicandtenpins]

He chuckles at that description, especially the mention of 'no redeeming social value'. "Well, that sounds like an utterly delightful bakery, then," he says, before adding, "And it is a pleasure to meet you, then, Sunshine. My name is Albus Dumbledore."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Pleased to meet you as well," she replies, beaming. Rae feels quite strongly that 'Albus Dumbledore' is a fantastic name. "I like to think of it as a delightful bakery, certainly. Or a bakery full of delights."

Like her Death of Marat is a trifle dramatic, as well as a dramatic trifle.

"I'm quite fortunate that both my regulars back home, as well as patrons here are quite willing to taste-test new recipes for me and give me their opinions."

"What do you do in your world, Albus?"

[chambermusicandtenpins]

"Ah, and if you have so many loyal regulars, then they must be quite the delicious taste-tests, then," he says.

"Back at home, I'm a teacher," he answers, smiling. "I teach at a secondary school in Scotland. I've been there for several years now and I rather love the place."

[sunbaked_baker]

On one hand, she is rather surprised by his answer, but on another, it totally makes sense to her. He looks a bit like a teacher, if a bit more striking in appearance than most teachers she's known. "Oh, neat! I've... actually not met very many teachers here, which is a shame. It's good to love one's career home."

She knows that feeling well.

"I've been told that some of the landscape here is based on Cal- ah, Scotland. The northern part of the island of Albion is called Caledonia in my world, rather than Great Britain and Scotland, I mean. I've gotten used to running into some differences in place names between worlds, here."

[chambermusicandtenpins]

"Ah, but that's so fascinating, to know that we have similar lands even as they exist in entirely different realities, with entirely different names," he says, clearly interested in such a concept. "But you are saying that some of the area of the bar is based on Scotland, then?"

[man_without_fear]

While Rae is enjoying the sunrise the back door opens and Matt pushes through, carrying a box under one arm and tapping along with his cane.

He's half-dressed for the day, in slacks but with a t-shirt thrown on instead of a dress shirt and tie. The cut of the t-shirt reveals a few scratches on his neck and shoulder, and perhaps those are explained some by the meowing coming from the box.

Of all the ridiculous things Matt has ever had to do, this one rates top of the list.

Before he can deal with the cat in the box though, he realizes he's not alone out here, and who his company is. Stopping in the middle of the porch, he looks a little lost as he tries to figure out what he should do.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine idly glances over her shoulder, hearing the door - her hair, grown out some from where she'd had it cut level at chin-length, still isn't long enough to brush against her shoulders - then looks again, a smile appearing in her voice and tone.

"Hey you," she greets him, mildly surprised but definitely glad to see him. "It's been while."

Her state is a great contrast to how she was, last time they crossed paths. Gone are the pain, the stiffness, the smells of fear and exhaustion and singed hair. At most, there are the smells of someone well-rested who has been on a bracing run in the early morning chill, and is basking in the after effects of the endorphin rush; the clean sweat of exertion is drying on her brow while the relatively less clean mud dries in the crevasses on the bottoms of her shoes, and the hot cup of tea steams fragrantly from the mug cupped in her hands.

[man_without_fear]

When she speaks up he turns his head and offers a smile.

"Rae, good morning."

The cat in the box doesn't allow itself to be ignored, though, and when it yowls again Matt finishes what he set out to do.

"Sorry, uh, just a sec," he apologizes to Rae.

Setting the box down, Matt is careful about opening it, feeling out the folded cardboard, making sure he has a hold of something inside, then drawing back when he finally opens it wide.

Out leaps a tuxedo cat, wearing a harness attached to a lead that Matt is now hanging onto. The cat looks around, cautious and alert, then darts down the stairs and disappears underneath the porch, trailing the leash line after it.

Matt just stands there, trying not to feel like an idiot as he walks a cat.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae isn't sure what to make of the box, or of Matt's trepidation regarding it... until she sees the cat... on a leash.

It certainly isn't what she expected, though at the same time she isn't sure what she did expect. She doesn't laugh - though the image he presents is somewhat amusing, she can imagine the awkwardness of trying to 'walk' a cat - but her eyebrows are very much raised in mild bewilderment. It probably shows in her tone.

"... You once mentioned your friends were trying to talk you into getting a dog," she remarks, light but wry. "Tell me they didn't convince you into some unfortunate compromise."

[man_without_fear]

Matt's mouth lifts into an embarrassed smile and he laughs, then smiles again, and tries to explain.

"Ah, no I-- " He clears his throat, wipes his mouth with his hand to try and get rid of the awkwardness, then continues, "I'm cat-sitting. Sort of."

[sunbaked_baker]

The explanation definitely makes her smile. "That's very kind of you to do," she replies. "Though I can imagine it being a bit of a trial. That cat seems... quite its own creature."

Or it did, the few moments she saw it before it disappeared under the porch.

"It's nice that you're spending time with it - enrichment, or whatever they call it." People who have cats are... used to cats. Petless people who live alone? Not so much.

[man_without_fear]

The cat is an asshole, but Matt manages not to say as much.

Instead, he shakes his head to Rae's kind praise.

"It really only happened as a no other choice scenario. I have it here now because I didn't have the uh, necessary supplies for it in my apartment?"

He can hear the cat scratching around underneath the porch and tries very hard to ignore what it's doing.

"I came here hoping to ask Bar for something, but she gave me this instead." He raises the leash to illustrate, thoroughly annoyed with Bar who insisted via cocktail napkin that things had reached 'emergency status' and there was no time to set up a litter box.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine snorts slightly, wry. "Bar has a weird sense of humor, sometimes."

"Apart from the needy new flatmate, how've you been?" she asks.

[man_without_fear]

"Yeah, I'm coming to find that out."

Really Matt's just grateful he made it into and through the bar without running into anyone who might have recognized the cat. His hope is to get back in the box and home, with supplies, without any issues.

"I've been alright," he replies after a moment.

It's true enough. He still has a lot going on in both sides of his life, and besides a cat he also has Claire staying with him, but overall he's in a decent place. Certainly less frustrated and angry than he's been before, although there is still ever present signs of both underneath his current mood.

"How are you?" All evidence delivered by his senses read as her being much better than she was before, which he's glad for.

[sunbaked_baker]

She can see the signs of lingering frustration and anger in his shadows, but she is glad to note they seem much reduced from what she's seen before. Sometimes frustration and anger don't get completely solved, they just subside for a while, and sometimes that's the most one can hope for. But there's only so much energy one can devote to anger when there is every-day life to see to.

"I'm... good," she says, the hesitation giving her a moment to mentally check whether she really is. She sounds vaguely surprised to find it to be true, but won't question the peace she's found, however temporarily. "Doing okay, though I know it might be hard to believe after last time we ran into each other."

That was not her best day, she'll admit.

[man_without_fear]

The leash line thumps lightly against the wood boards of the porch as the cat explores further, and Matt takes a step to the side, giving the cat a little more slack as he listens to Rae.

That her status as being good comes as a realization to her is mildly concerning, but he sets that aside to admit, "I was pretty worried about you, Rae. Last time was... rough."

To put it lightly.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Understatement of the year," she remarks, with a wry smile and a very faint chuckle. Rae touches the side of her neck with her hand, feeling the differences in the surface of her skin where the burns were bad enough to scar despite the continued applications of prescribed ointments and kenet. A thin-feeling, shiny patch on her neck under her ear, slightly smaller than her hand, a light ridge of scar tissue crossing the hollow of her throat; a tight-feeling stretch of skin between her thumb and index finger, a rough, irregular patch on the edge of her palm beneath her pinkie, the faint lingering strangeness in the feeling of the tips of her fingers. "The weeks following that were no walk in the park, either. But it all would've been much worse if you and Claire hadn't been here."