milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Esk managed to get through Valentines without once having to turn anyone into anything. She barely noticed anything was wrong.

This morning, she orders her beer and breakfast and takes her usual seat by the fireplace.

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"We get fesh milk delivered daily," Esk replies. "We have the best milkman in the mulitiverse, I can guarantee that. And ice cream's just frozen cream. It's not that hard to make, is it? To be honest, I don't know if that's delivered or not."

She tries the milkshake.

"Oh. This is fantastic."

"Isn't it?" He takes a nice size sip, but isn't going to gulp it down.

"I've never been one to turn to food when I'm down. But then I was also alive and had to think more about my health.

"And chocolate is a special case, anyway."

"Chocolate is," she agrees, sipping at the 'shake.

"We eat well at the university, but I don't think it's ever occured to Mrs Whitlow to produce something like this."

"Do you have chocolate on the disc? It would seem unlikely that you don't.

"This is a very simple treat, though. Takes five minutes to make, and it's as common as dirt.

"Though it takes a good chocolate."

"Oh yes, we have chocolate. Life without chocolate seems a little pointless, to be honest.

"This is just ice cream and milk mixed with chocolate, is it?"

"I have friends - the non-powered heroes I worked with - who probably never, ever ate the stuff. I wouldn't say their lives were pointless, but I suspect they spent their off-hours making up reasons why chocolate is bad for you."

A few more sips, and the glass is half-empty. Or half-full, since Barry is an optimist.

"That's all it is. Of course, you can make a shake with any kind of ice cream."

"I'm sure you could. I'll have to suggest it to some people. Maybe Ronnie could look into it - he's our milkman, and he's always open to ideas."

"I haven't seen a milkman in years. Not since I moved to the big city. They went the way of the dinosaur on my world a while ago, even in the small towns.

"Must be nice to have milk show up at your door every morning, without shopping for it." Not unlike having a bar at Milliways, he thinks.

"I'm sure it must be. I don't spend much time in the kitchen, so I don't know. I certainly can't remember much abou twhat it was like back home.

"I'm sorry, I've just never really cooked. At all, in fact."

"Neither did I. Neither did my wife. We used to eat out a lot, and eat on the run - so to speak - a lot. And we never had time to shop properly. So some mornings it was race to the market to get the milk and hope that Iris could hold out a minute to drink her coffee with cream."

He sighs, but not unhappily.

"I miss her, of course, but I miss the city. Not just as a place to run but as a place to live."

"Well, I'm sure it's less of a wait than for most people, being married to you," Esk points out. "But having milk delivered promptly at seven is certainly convenient in that sense."

"Obviously he never had to deal with Central City traffic, or rain.

"And the milkman whee I grew up tended to get delayed by Mrs. Kravitz and Mrs. Busybody pumping him for gossip.

"Must be a very dedicated milkman."

"Ronnie's the best," She agrees. "On the occasions where I've been in a kitchen at seven, he's been friendly enough. He takes pride in his work."

"That's always a good thing."

He finishes the shake, and he really feels much better.

"That was good. Really good. I think I can cope with the day now. And with my, er kids."

"That's good to hear," Esk replies, grinning. "I hope they're feeling a lot better today."

"One can hope.

"Makes appreciate what my own parents must have gone through. And what my wife had to cope with on her own. I don't know any of the details, but apparently I had twins."

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