driftfleet | Yadrolla System Mingle

[ Well, she doesn't have to tell him twice. He just didn't want to presume and leave her with nothing to show for her baking efforts. As it is, he pops the other half of the first cookie in his mouth and reaches for another, which he breaks in half to examine very seriously.

All these contests and competitions, they're pretty ridiculous. He's taken part in a couple but he's not really invested. But if his friends are taking part, obviously, he's rooting for them. There's little question in his mind that Carol's going to win, but he's very serious about helping her refine her recipes.

Mostly serious, anyway, and also fond of sneaking food off her plate. So it all works out. ]

Think it's pretty good. [ But he'd better eat it to be sure. So he does, and nods. ] Other people making the same ones?

[ Carol frowns in frustration at herself. ]

Pretty good isn't good enough, Daryl. They need to be perfect. My tongue is all burned out from sugar. I can't even tell what any of this tastes like anymore.

[ She closes her eyes and rubs her temples, forcing herself to breathe slow. The pressure is getting to her already. ]

Sorry, it's just been a while since I've done anything like this. And the others are doing similar things. We have categories we have to make stuff for, but the actual things we make for them are up to us.

[ Somehow he has the feeling that telling her she's taking this too seriously would go over like a lead balloon-- so he just kind of gives he a look, gentle because he's just a bit worried about her.

There are plenty of reasons to be stressed the hell out, he figures. ]

It's good. It's like you said it oughta be.

[ And he's not sucking up. She should know by now, it's not his habit to bullshit. ]

Never had 'em before.

[ Oh, it would. And she doesn't appreciate the look because she doesn't want to feel guilty on top of stressed. And guilty about the fact that she's going to let her team down.

Yeah, it's stupid. But it's something she might possibly control, in contrast to everything else she's stressed about. ]

That'll have to be good enough, I guess.

[ No, he doesn't bullshit. She's not sure what to change to make it better, which is what she was hoping to hear. But if it's all just good then there's not much she can do. ]

You want to try one of the other things?

[ In his own way he's trying to be supportive. He's just... not great at accomplishing it, apparently.

And if he saw it from that perspective he'd get it. It's not so different from him taking off hunting, even though there's no reason here he has to. ]

Yeah. [ He leans against the counter she's been working on. ] What's next?

[ If only either of them actually talked about what they were thinking or feeling. And in Carol's case, actually being honest about it when she does. ]

Next is...

[ What is next? ]

If you still want sweet, try some of that peach pie.

[ BUT TALKING IS THE WORST. ]

Peaches here any good?

[ Look, they're allowed to be snobby about that. He doesn't doubt the pie will be good, though; he just thinks the quality of space fruit is going to be Carol's limitation, here. Still, he serves himself a piece, exceedingly serious.

(Not really that serious. It's kind of funny, being this worried about baked goods. Or it would be if Carol could see the humor in it.) ]

Looks real good. [ First step there, right? ]

[ AGREED. ]

They're a little different. Firmer, not as sweet. But I just put a little more sugar in and that seems to make up the difference. Plus it makes for neater slices, which is nice.

[ The real sloppy kind of peach pie might taste better, but this sure looks better for competition. Sometimes that makes the difference.

And no Daryl she would not see the humor in it. Not now, anyway. Try her again after the competition. ]

Thanks. I need you to try it without the ice cream, and then with the ice cream. I'm not sure if it adds enough to justify using it.

[ She pulls the bowl of cardamom ice cream out of the freezer while he tries some without. ]

[ At least he knows what he's looking for with pie, though really, he can't say he's had that many great ones. He's had the best peaches though-- sun-ripe and stolen out of neighbors' yards, and even after the world ended they had more than a few. Smaller and not so neat, with the orchards overgrown and no one left to tend them.

He cuts a slice-- neatly, the bottom crust still crisp, the insides soft but not collapsing-- and helps himself. ]

You think it needs more?

[ He's skeptical. He thinks it's pretty goddamn good. ]

I think it needs to stand out.

[ She rubs her forehead, her temples starting to ache with a stress headache. ]

This is a bad idea. I'm completely out of practice. My recipes are all dated. Nothing here is what I'm familiar with. I should withdraw now so the team has enough time to replace me.

[ She sighs softly and looks at her bowl of ice cream. It's fine. it's all fine. Fine isn't good enough. She just wanted to do something helpful with something she thought she was good at. ]

[ Someone somewhere said the point of these games was fun, woman. ]

Ain't gonna find anyone better.

[ he says firmly, doesn't bother to add and you know it because... she knows it. He finishes off a bite of pie, eyes on her all the while. ]

I'm not gonna stay here and finish this whole damn pie to be polite.

[ He's joking? Maybe?

Maybe... ]

Already better on the Star Strikers.

[ She sighs and rubs her neck. Before looking at him with a resigned sort of self-doubtful expression. ]

At least try it with the ice cream as you go? They're supposed to go together. If I use it. There's pepperoni rolls, too, if you get tired of sugar.

Bull. You'll knock 'em out.

[ He has perfect faith in her! And a strong bias. Maybe there's not much difference between the two? But he's not flattering, he... well, in fairness, to the best of his knowledge Carol is literally the best cook in the world.

He figures she's the best one here, too.

Still very serious, he adds some ice cream to the pie, takes a couple bites. ]

Go for it, long's the pie's still warm.

[ His faith in her is unshakeable. A bedrock she can rely on. She knew she missed it when they were separated, but here and at home, but she didn't realize how much it meant to her until she had it again. She smiles shyly. ]

Sure you can't be one of the judges? I won't tell if you won't.

[ She makes a note to use the ice cream. ]

Good job to get, I guess.

[ Sit around all day eating the most delicious things people are capable of making?

Except obviously he's not that qualified. And, also, there's zero chance of anything approaching being impartial. He makes a vague, disagreeing grunt. ]

Could practice on me all you want, though.

You could be the Paula Abdul one. Just really positive about everything everybody's made.

[ His next comment earns one of those mischievous kinds of smiles. Her eyes even twinkle a little. ]

All I want, huh?

[ he ducks his head a bit at the teasing, familiar and kind of comforting-- if nothing else it means she's relaxing a little-- but also doesn't argue. ]

You said there's pepperoni rolls.

[ see? Volunteering, even. ]

[ Daryl isn't given to smiling much. He doesn't even fake it. Which makes the ones she's able to get all the sweeter, fleeting as it is. ]

I did. Made 'em West Virginia style. With the chunky pepperoni instead of the slices.

[ She hands him one and leans against the counter, waiting for the verdict. ]

[ She gets more than most people do. Even if she isn't feeding him at the time, though obviously that doesn't hurt a bit.

This he tries a bit less delicately. ]

This one's best.

[ Or he's just biased toward savory. ]

Okay.

[ She braces her hands on the counter and just breathes for a minute, trying to settle her nerves. She can't be this nervous now the thing won't even start for another few days. ]

You really think I'm that good?

[ At least if she spends those days stress-baking, she shouldn't have to worry about what to do with the leftovers. ]

'Course I do.

[ Come on, does she even have to ask? ]

Thanks.

[ She says, feeling very fragile and ashamed of that. She should be stronger than this, not need the validation. But it means something to hear it out loud. She wipes her hands on her apron. ]

You ready for something sweet again?

[ Aside from the fact that he definitely thinks she deserves validation-- people need it. It feels shitty to have to admit, but it's how people work. He thinks back sometimes to what she'd said after he found Sophia's doll-- that he was every bit as good as Rick or Shane-- and what a difference it made.

Needing to hear it now and then doesn't make you weak.

He leans on the counter, lifts his chin in a vague nod. ]

What you got?

[ It's a perfectly fine and natural thing to want and need and get. For other people. The double-standard that Carol inflicts on herself no matter how much nonsense it is.

The vote of confidence from Daryl is one she sorely needed. And so, with some bashfulness because it's a new recipe and who knows if it's even going to work out, she produces the ultimate indulgence, a cookie dough cake. ]

I just tried to think of what I missed the most back home and what I would make if I had access to anything in the world. And... I came up with this.

[ Funny how much easier it is to give than to get, to supply than to need.

He gets it. But he's gonna keep having her back, if she lets him.

That cake, though, is something else. Holy crap, Carol. ]

Good lord. [ It's covered in cookies, what's not to like? ] Dunno if I'd wanna eat whatever beat that.

Yadrolla System Mingle

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