with_my_teacup | Kitchen Spam

Kitchen Spam - saturday morning

[The breakfast menu just got kid friendly-- and the kitchen just got a lot better secured. No little hands in sharp places, or high places, or hot places; Riddick has it locked down. He's also keeping a serious eye on the mess hall, dividing his attention between waffles and doing walkarounds.

Unfortunately, he's not quite himself. He found this pair of smoked eyeglasses... and he's been trying not to talk ever since he put them on. Fucking floods, am I right.]

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[Riddick puts it on Ned's shoulder.]

I am your friend. You are entirely welcome in this kitchen. There is no organized police force to harass you here, and you are not the strangest person aboard. I do so badly want you to feel safe.

[This, Young Ned is unsure about. He's grown accustomed to the lies adults - and children - tell. He's slogged along in a disappointed slump of detachment, too afraid to grow close to people and then accidentally or on purpose touch them back to life later on.

So he lies. Again. To keep Riddick safe.]

I don't want to be your friend.

All right. [And Riddick hurts for him because he remembers why Ned tries not to be friends. The good reasons.]

Will you be my baking partner? There are so many mouths to feed.

[This one is a harder choice. As scared as Young Ned is to attach himself to people, he loves baking equally more. It's the sense of home he desperate misses, and in this time and place he needs it more than ever.

He glances to Digby, who unhelpfully only tilts his head to the side.

Finally, Young Ned gives a tentative nod]

Splendid. How much longer shall the pie bake? It smells pretty well along. We should have something to put in once it's taken out-- what do you think? A savoury pie or a sweet one?

...It's blueberry.

Thirteen minutes and 28 seconds.

And for the next one?

....Cherry.

One hour, twenty-six minutes and fourteen seconds.

Shall we begin? I think I remember your crust recipe for cherry-- if you would do the filling, I never get it quite right.

[With a far more confident nod, Young Ned immediately leaves Riddick's side to continue his abandoned work, eagerly setting into the dough once more]

[Riddick gets the ingredients for the filling together, digging for a bag of cherries in the massive refrigerator and getting them onto a low heat, preparing a bowl, sniffing both the pie in the oven and the cherries on the stovetop every so often.

He maneuvers carefully around Digby, taking his gloves off for a few seconds while the cherries juice to pet him, going back and washing his hands to kitchen standard afterwards.]

[Digby wasn't quite sure why the Piemaker now resembled his younger self, but as a dog, he didn't wholly concern himself with the immediate repercussions of this discovery. Instead, he scooted closer to Riddick to be nearer to the pets, his tail wagging slowly.

Young Ned on the other hand, sat ou the countertop with a mixing bowl, watching Riddick anxiously from a corner of his eye. He wouldn't question the man - it wasn't his place, he didn't talk if he could help it - but he was curious about him all the same. He didn't look like any adult Young Ned had ever seen before]

Who is a good dog? Yes, you are. Very good. [It's unlike Riddick's usual full-contact affection for animals, but then again he can only get up to so much horseplay in a kitchen.]

Almond extract in the filling today, Ned?

[Giving a wary nod and still watching Riddick like he came from outer space, Young Ned's eyes briefly turned back to his own bowl]

...Is this another school?

No.

[Riddick clears his throat.] Unfortunately, it is a peculiar and vexatious variety of prison barge, upon which you normally, while somewhat older, act as a combination therapist and warden. It is prone to brief periods of life-changing and impossible upheaval-- such as turning half the crew into children. Or, in fact, changing the way one speaks.

[He's finding that the more he wants to swear, the more flowery he ends up getting. Fucker.]

[Young Ned's face fell.

This was a prison? He must be here because he'd killed people again. He'd been in prison once before, for days. He hadn't liked it.

He wasn't sure he liked this either, but at least Digby was here now. But why ask to leave? He didn't have a home anymore, or a father or mother. He was entirely on his own, and would have to figure out what to do on his own.

He gave a distant nod and clutched the bowl tight, staring down into the contents to try to reap some sort of comfort from it.]

[Riddick washes his hands, and re-applies fresh gloves. Cautiously, lest there be a flinch, he approaches Ned, and reaches out to touch his shoulder.]

I should remind you that you are here to help people, and not as a prisoner. You are a good man; you were kind to me when I was still a prisoner myself, before I was allowed this position.

[The touching doesn't help much; Young Ned is struggling to reconcile the fact that he doesn't want to be here with the feeling that he deserves to be here and the added information that he doesn't have anywhere else he'd rather be]

....

[He looks up at Riddick, solemn and soulful. Asking silently what to do]

This will only be for a few days-- and while you are here, you will be quite safe. You have free range of this kitchen; there is a wilderness called the CES to explore.

You may bake as much as you like.

-the cherries.

[His sensitive nose catches the second the filling is about to stop juicing and start burning, and he moves like a fussy Victorian cat over to the stove, sliding the pan off the burner without sloshing it, turning that burner off, stirring the pan with a swirl before putting it on a cold burner.]

[From the countertop, Young Ned watches the man fuss about, and the image is so bizarre and alien that he can't help but crack his first smile]

[Riddick catches him, and offers a prim smile in return.]

I am using precisely the amount of sugar in the recipe, because I will make it too sweet or too sour otherwise. I have not mastered sugar, yet.

[He offers it as confession, a little weakness, so that Ned feels like he's got a handle on him. He hopes.]

[This is acceptable; Ned's not seen too many male bakers. That Riddick is not so practiced at sugar makes him a little more human]

...I can...?

Would you please? [Riddick steps to one side and gestures at the bowl of proto-filling encouragingly.]

[With an eager nod, Young Ned hops down from his perch and begins to save the filling, doing what his mother's taught him all his life]

The sugar's sticking to the bottom; you need to keep stirring or it'll solidify and burn.

[Riddick nods gravely, crossing his arms as he watches Ned work.]

You have a good arm for a young man.

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