milliways_bar | (no subject)

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rae "sunshine" seddon

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There are tasty smells coming from the kitchen this afternoon, but if one comes looking for the cinnamon roll queen, they will only find her younger self, reading a book of scary stories at the kitchen table while multitudes of cookies bake in the ovens. (Oh c'mon. The kitchen staff totally count as adult supervision.)

Some cookies are cooling on racks already, a little stack of card stock with carefully-written names and prices ready to go.

Later, one might find ten-year-old Sunshine setting up a display of all of the cookie varieties on one of the centrally-located tables, each with their label and price.

She had always wanted to be a girl scout. Her mother had put her off, though, protesting that she wouldn't have time to get Rae to all of the meetings, and the uniforms and projects were too expensive. But that won't stop Rae from being a Milliways Scout.

"Cookies! Fresh-baked cookies for sale!" she calls, cheerfully.

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"Ohhh, nibbles," a very well-dressed Devil exclaims enthusiastically as he approaches the table.

"Just what I'm in the mood for."

The girl beams up at him, though she is somewhat more aware of the faded and hand-me-down nature of her clothes than usual. He is very well-dressed!

"Every day is a good day for cookies," she agrees, sagely. "I've got all kinds - shortbreads, chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, double-chocolate, oatmeal-raisin..."

"I'm feeling peckish," Lucifer decides. "Let me have one of each for starters. "

He's even brought cash!

Well, someone brought cash and through a series of events it ended up on his pocket. (Alongside a bag of coke, two gold rings, and a bus ticket)

And now it's being put to good and generous use bying cookies.

It's quite a bit of cash. Nice, crisp bills in a small stack.

"Maybe an Irish Coffee?" he suggests one of the wait rats and it scurries off to fetch it.

Ooh! One of each! For starters! That's very promising. Rae beams, "Coming right up!" and begins putting together a plate of cookies.

"...Would you like to try one of these, also? They're a bit of an experiment," she adds after a moment, and shows him a plate of cookies. Each round cookie looks like an evenly-split pie graph, with a chocolate chip area, one section coated in the cinnamon-sugar of a snickerdoodle cookie, a double-chocolate quadrant, an oatmeal-raisin section... "I had cookie dough left over from each kind of cookie, and thought it might be interesting to combine them. You get a different cookie in each bite."

"That," he declares, is a brilliant idea. I've seen people do that with, like, sandwiches, but cookies? That's inspired."

"I'm glad to hear it," she chuckles. "I had worried people wouldn't want them because of all the kinds included... Like, some of my friends really don't like oatmeal-raisin."

Which.... is fine, Rae might begrudgingly admit. People are allowed to have preferences. Even if they are unfathomable.

"How do they do it with sandwiches?"

"Their loss."

It's cookies.

He gets his Irish Coffee and takes a sip before selecting a cookie. Chocolate chip.

"With sandwiches, you can take a round bread and do wedges or a baguette and do sections. Both are nice."

The girl nods, following the description - "That's how we do pizza, too, in wedges. I like onions and mushrooms and peppers on mine, but Mom and Charlie also put pepperoni on their slices.

"Mmm," Lucifer says, chewing. "It's definitely the same principle. Except that the sandwich isn't meant for sharing."

"Mm, I've not tried making different kinds all in one sandwich," the girl muses in a way that will only become more finely attuned when she is older and has had more years of culinary experimentation. She is absolutely going to try this out. "Could be difficult to keep the sandwich fillings from mixing or overlapping, 'specially if it not meant to be big enough to share."

You risk your egg salad getting on your grilled portobello.

"Lettuce leafs," says the expert with conviction.
"And you need to plan for pleasantly overlapping flavours. Just in case."

"See, now I'm going to have to try it sometime," she beams at him. "Not sure what kinds of sandwiches would go well so close together, but I can find out."

"You'll have to experiment," he replies, brightly.

"It'll be fun!"

He drinks some Irish Coffee and picks another cookie.
"Which one is this?"

Edited 2022-01-27 19:34 (UTC)

"They're called monster cookies," grins the girl. "They're another with a little bit of everything in them - peanut butter, oats, butterscotch chips, M'n'Ms and chopped peanuts."

"That," he says, his mouth already full of cookie,"is what I am talking about."

He is genuinely enthusiastic about both the cookies and the idea of 'a little bit of everything '.

The girl grins at him, the kind of beaming grin that will later become Sunshine's pleased smile when someone is enjoying something she has made.

"They're one of my favorites. I like their texture as well as the taste, if that makes sense. They've got a lot going on."

"The girl scouts are selling cookies again, back home, and warm cookies are so good when it's cold out, so I figured I should make Milli-scout cookies."

"Yours are definitely better," Lucifer says, full of conviction.
"As you said - texture."

"Also their cookies also come in a box," she agrees with all the frank disdain a ten-year-old can muster. "Who knows how long it's been since they were baked?"

She has made her peace with the fact that she'll not be able to be a girl scout. It doesn't matter; milliscouts are unequivocally better.

"Yuck," he agrees. "Stale cookies is the worst! Well, maybe not the worst, but -"

"Factory-made, boxed up girl-scout cookies would just be disappointing," she agrees, "when you could have fresh-baked Milli-scout cookies instead."

The cookies on display don't have the regularity of factory-made cookies. These were definitely made by a ten-year-old. A ten-year-old who pretty much knows what she's doing, but still.

"And like all cookies, they're better when shared."

Vying for an extra sale? Maybe.

"You're right," Lucifer agrees.
"You know what? Cookies are on me tonight. How much for all of them?"

The world can always use more cookies.

"Oh!" The girl is surprised. She hadn't been expecting that big of an order. "Um! I'll need to add them all up -"

- she can, multiplication isn't hard -

"- but I'll need a pencil and some paper. Be right back!"

She dashes to the Bar to request the pencil and paper, leaving the wealth of cookies unguarded, as well as the book she had been reading earlier. The book is a yellowing paperback with luridly-colored cover art that suggests it was cheap even back in the 1960s, with the title Vampire Tales and Other Eerie Matters, and a creased postcard being used as a bookmark. The postcard isn't old, but it has some lingering minor magic infused in it. Not Sunshine's own magic, with its summery-warm feeling, but magic oriented at her.

Lucifer munches his cookie as she dashes to the Bar, leaning over to look at the paperback.

He reaches down to pick it up, accidentally stroking a finger along the improvised bookmark.

The paperback is unremarkable, its aging cheap paper already yellow and brittle, the cover promising readers of the last forty years both thrills and chills in ten short stories of the Other menace.

The postcard within it, however, is not so ordinary. The front image shows a generic snowy winter scene, peaceful, which could be set anywhere in the world, yes. But as magic goes, the feeling of what has been infused into the postcard is much harsher, less wholly benevolent-feeling than Sunshine's, even if this particular magic's purpose is protective. Paper is not the best medium for it, of course, but as much protective magic as possible has been infused into the small piece of card stock. It does not sense the intent to harm, so the spell is mostly quiescent, though it does react with a quiet mental warning - sharp, intent - at Lucifer's touch.

The short letter on the back is largely obscured by the book itself, but along the bottom edge can be seen the words, "From your loving father." The postmark is blurred to the point of illegibility.

"You like scary stories, too?" The cheerful girl asks as she returns with the pencil and paper the bar gave her, seeing him holding the book.

"Easy there, billet-deux," Lucifer says at the little unseen reaction. "I'm just looking."

Sunshine returns and he smiles at her.

"Not really. I mean, most of the time, they're not really properly scary. "

Not when you know what's truly terrifying.

The girl settles in to count up how many she has left of all the cookies, and do some math.

"They can be scary, but... safe? If that makes sense?" She is ten, and doesn't yet have the vocabulary to explain why she is drawn to scary stories. "Mom doesn't like me reading 'em. Thinks they'll give me nightmares. But I find them...almost comforting."

When the reality of the Wars is too much, it can be a comfort to escape into a scary world that you know will still turn out all right, and to know you're not the only one who has scary thoughts.

"I have nearly all of that series."

"Yeah?"

He picks the book up to inspect it.

"Got any sex scenes? "
He tends to skip to those.

(Age appropriateness is something that happens to other people).

The girl shrugs. "It's implied, sometimes, but not stated outright."

"The series was part of a big pile in Mr. Mitchell's used bookstore. I'm friends with Susie Mitchell at school, and Mom sometimes lets me wander around the bookstore while she runs errands. The whole pile came down one day while I was in there, almost squished me!" She chuckles, "Mr. Mitchell said he'd give me the whole pile for next to nothing if I wouldn't tell my mom."

"It had nearly an unbroken run of Vampire Tales and Other Eerie Matters and some of the earliest and rarest issues of the Blood Lore series," boasts the kid who had made out like a bandit in that particular deal.

"Hmm. Nah, I'm definitely more of an explicit kind of guy," he replies, finishing his cookie.

"Sounds like you made a great deal there."
He approves.

"I did!" she grins. "Surprisingly, the earlier issues of Blood Lore turned out to be waaay gorier than the later issues, enough to gross me out, but I'm not about to tell my mom that."

Her mother would take her books away.

"How does this sound?" She asks, finishing up the math, circling the total and sliding the paper to him. Her handwriting isn't great, but it's legible. There is approximately a dozen and a half of each type of cookie, priced slightly differently by how complex the cookie recipe is. If he follows the math Lucifer may notice that she has factored in a discount on each whole dozen.

"Right on," he replies, grinning, and then he looks the calculations over.

"Hmm. Yes. I can see that. Hmm hmm. Yes."

He reaches out a hand to seal the deal, saying, "You might want to reconsider your discount policy. Next time."

"Oh? Charlie says a truly good deal is one that both sides feel is a good deal," she replies, smiling as she shakes his hand. "It helps ensure future deals."

It's worth it to sacrifice some of one's current profit if it means ensuring a return customer. Return customers become regulars. Regulars become friends. Friends tell friends tell friends.

"Oh, definitely. But rewarding a returning customer isn't bad either."

He smiles as he reaches into his inner pocket.

"I might have to round up though. I hate coins. They ruin your pants."

"Oh, we do that too," Sunshine giggles, grinning. Really, what can Rae's mother do when both her husband and daughter would rather focus on gaining people than profits?

"I don't like messing with coins, either," she admits, though her reason is that math is frustrating and the coins' texture sometimes make her feel the need to wash her hands. While Lucifer counts up cash, the girl packages up all of the cookies. It wouldn't be a good deal if the cookies were damaged or dry by the time anyone got to enjoy them.

"Who are you thinking you might share these with?"

"I'm not sure," he muses as he hands her the bills.

He has rounded up.
By quite a bit.

"I could bring them to the precinct? It's better than donuts."

"Our local cops and SOFs are all regulars at the coffeehouse and they love cookies," she can attest, nodding. "I'm sure they'll be enjoyed there."

The ten-year-old, trusting the adult can math, doesn't directly count the bills she is handed. She is somewhat distracted by the unfamiliar color and symbolism on them, as well.

"You're... also a cop?" She isn't saying he doesn't look like one, but he really doesn't look like one.

"Me? No. No, no, no. Ever met a cip with nice shoes? No, I'm a private consultant. On murder cases mostly. I have a rather unique skillset for solving that kind of crime."

He is visibly proud of that.

Her smile brightens. "Like in whodunnit books! There's been a crime, the police are stumped, so they call in a specialist to help solve the case. That's so flash!"

"It is," he agrees, smiling widely. "Detective Decker, she's my partner, has really come to appreciate my approach."

"Is there a case you're working on right now?" the girl asks, fascinated.

"We're looking into aserial killer that tortures his victims. Badly, I might add."

He sounds disdainful.

Amateur.
Trying to all devilfish.

"Shiva wept," the girl murmurs, looking alarmed. "That sounds terrible. Are there... um... any leads?"

He waves a hand.
"Loads. Or there will be. We always end up catching them."

He looks at her, suddenly serious.
"Always."

"Good!" she replies, emphatic, still disquieted by the idea of there being a serial killer on the loose.

"Scary stories are fine because if they get too scary you can always quit reading and put the book away. Real life scary stuff is awful."

Real life scary stuff can follow you home and come back into your head when you're trying to sleep. Or eat.

"I hope you get 'em," she adds, quieter.

Edited 2022-02-02 21:44 (UTC)

Lucifer, who in some respects is real-life scary stuff, nods.

"Yes, there is that. But as I said, we always get them. Detective Decker is an excellent detective. And I'm, well-" He smiles brightly. "Me!"

The girl manages a small smile. "I hope you do."

Not only because it has been drilled into the kids at school that it's the proper thing to do - thank you for your service, thank you for your time - but also because she is thankful, she adds, "Thank you. For... for helping, in that way."

Edited 2022-02-03 20:20 (UTC)

He - doesn't know how to respond to that.

And briefly, the polished mask drops and he is someone who isn't thanked and doesn't expect it and doesn't know how to handle how it makes him feel.

And then the bright smile is back in place.
"It's my pleasue, really. Gets me out of the house."
He chuckles because it was a joke and that's easier to remember when someone chuckles.

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