fandomtownies | Pixie Dust, Wednesday, 11/5

Dōjima came skipping by after class, triumphantly clutching a batch of the cookies she had made.

They were even edible.

"Ohaiyo!" she said, slipping into the shop. "Are we having fun yet?"

"Ohaiyo," he grinned, closing the catalogue and coming from around the counter to kiss her. "The day was dull until you got here, but now I'm having fun."

The catalogue got a cursory glance, but she'd steal it later to see what he was looking at.

Yurika leaned in to claim her kiss and smiled. "Dull day, huh? I bet my cookies and I can make it brighter for you."

"You bought cookies?" Romeo asked, after they'd ended the kiss. "That does make my day brighter. How was Deadpool's class?"

"Political cookies," she said, setting the bag of treats on the counter. "So now I have learned how to boil water, which I could already do without harm, light cheese on fire, which is totally Cal's fault, and make cookies. So far it's more productive than modeling was."

"It sounds a worthy course," Romeo said, eyeing the bag a little dubiously. "... have you tried the cookies yet?"

It wasn't that he didn't trust her baking. It was ... okay, he didn't trust her baking.

"Yes, and I'm not dead," she joked, fishing one out to bite its head off. She chewed for a moment before swallowing and smiling at him. "See? Crispier than I normally like my cookies, but not bad for a first try."

So she'd left them in the oven a wee-bit too long. It could have been worse! Much, much worse.

Romeo took one and ate it, hooves first. "Not bad at all, and better than what I could do," he claimed. "I like the frosting."

"The frosting helps hide the mildly-burned bits," she admitted, waving her headless cookie. "So now I'll be able to survive off ramen and cookies if the school cafeteria breaks down."

No she wouldn't. Yurika would just order delivery.

"Or we could just order delivery," Romeo said, because that was always his plan A. "Or give pitiful looks to students who can cook until they feed us."

He stole another cookie. "I'm not sure I've ever made ramen."

"If you bought the instant kind in a cup, you just add water and stick it in the microwave," Dōjima informed him mock-seriously. "It's those ones in packets that you actually have to cook on the stove that can be tricky."

"I could always teach you how to make okonmiyaki, if you wanted, since that's the one thing I can make on my own. It's a great hangover food. But I'm always a fan of delivery and/or bribery of others."

"Flattery of others can work too," he informed her. "Did we have okonmiyaki in Tokyo? The name's not familiar."

"I did, I think, I don't remember if you were awake or not at that point," Yurika said, trying to recall. "It's a pancake looking-thing, and I usually take mine with onions, meat, cheese, and ginger on top."

"It doesn't sound familiar," Romeo said. "Onions on a pancake? I'm not sure I should eat it even if I saw it."

Romeo was not always the most adventurous of eaters.

"Green onions, bacon, cheese," Yurika got misty-eyed for a moment, and rather hungry. "It's good, actually. You'd like it if I didn't put the sauce on it." Okonomiyaki sauce was definately an acquired taste.

"You look homesick talking about it," Romeo informed her. "But I'd try it, if you made it. There is a new Japanese place in town."

Yurika shrugged slightly, putting on a smile. "Well, you saw Tokyo," she explained, gesturing with one hand. "It's...different. Sometimes food helps me cope with the stir-crazy of being in such a little town."

"It's the quiet that gets to me, the quiet and the cold," Romeo told her softly. "Not that Verona's so large as Tokyo, but ... I know what you mean. This isn't home, as much as I love it."

"I'll listen, if you want to talk about it." That was all he had to offer.

"Hai, too quiet," she agreed, moving to give him a hug. "Way too quiet. Maybe we should ask Blair to throw another party, ne? Stir the place up. She did a really good job last time."

"Or we could throw one ourselves," Romeo commented, leaning into the hug. "Or help her at least, if we're asking for the favor."

That wasn't all of what he meant, though. "I think the peace unsettles me almost more than the quiet. You know we're coming on a year here and no one's died on the island." And if that was normal, ROmeo had never known it before.

Yurika brushed one hand over his shoulder gently. "Not for lack of trying," she scolded. "There have been a few close-calls."

Still, she knew what he meant. Sort of. Even though her clan was mostly-legitimate these days, Yurika was a yakuza princess. Even as protected as she was, it still carried an intellectual understanding of the violence.

"We could always go on a date to the beach, before it gets too cold," Yurika suggested. "You can read me some of those pretty words of yours, and we'll have one more picnic before winter sets in. Sushi, and, um, whatever food it is you California boys eat."

Romeo touched her hand as it passed over his shoulder; it still hurt sometimes, at night, and the arm was never as strong as it had been before. Too many close calls.

"Burritos," he answered, not exactly ignoring the first part of what she'd said but happy to shift the topic. "I know not if sushi and burritos go together, especially with your pancake thing in the mix, but finding out would be a pleasure, and a picnic would be wonderful."

They could change the subject all he wanted. It was a depressing topic, and not one she cared to dwell on.

"Burritos," she agreed. "With cheese and jalapeños and salsa, and maybe margaritas. We can do two picnics if the weather cooperates with us."

"Margaritas and sushi sound really good," Romeo said, and took another cookie because he was suddenly very hungry ~~much like his player~~. "I think we desperately need a picnic."

Yurika was starting to get An Idea.

"Well, what's your schedule like for the next week or so?" she asked, taking another cookie for herself and hopping up to sit on the counter. Someone had a birthday coming up, if she recalled correctly, and Yurika was not above being sneaky. "I think we can find a time for margaritas and beaches."

"I've nothing in particular," Romeo said. "Classes, work, turning 18." Because that one was fun to say. "And I'm not getting taken to the past before my birthday -- it was bad enough to miss yours."

"You made up for missing it eventually," Yurika reminded him. "But do me a favor and stay out of the forest for the next few weeks. Just in case."

She didn't exactly trust the tacky statuary to stay harmless and stationary.

"Eventually," he agreed. "I've stayed out of the forest all year, though. I like Paris, but I doubt I'd be sent anywhere so agreeable a second time."

"I wonder if the island is going to move again," Yurika wondered as she munched on her cookie. "I liked shopping in Paris with Rikku, and Greece, and lots of the other places. Although I think I could do without penguin-hunting again."

"I liked the poem we read in Antarctica," he told her, all sincerity. "Poor sad penguin."

"Did you?" she replied, all innocence. "I rather liked the one after that, about the people in the boat."

"That was definitely the better of the two," he admitted with a grin.

"How did that go? Something about 'turpentine kisses' I think?" she mused, glancing over at him from under lowered lashes. "I can't quite remember."

"You forgot the wet bodies near the strake, a word I never managed to look up," he replied, reaching out to touch her hand. "And the bitter taste of land."

Hands were nice, and she reached out to entwine her fingers with his.

"'Pinned by the sun between solstice and equinox, drowsy and tangled together,'" she recited quietly, rather pleased with herself. "Are you going to read me more poems, on our picnic?"

Butterflies. Hearing her recite poetry gave him butterflies, still.

"I'll have to find a special one," he told her, glancing at their entangled hands. "I will, though."

Yurika just laughed and gave his fingers a squeeze. "I'd be happy with any poem," she confessed. "I just like listening to the way you say the words."

"I like your voice too," he said, a small, private smile playing across his face. "And the mouth that issues it forth."

"My mouth thanks you for such kind words," she teased, tilting her head so her lips could show their gratitude.

PG gratitude only. The shop was still open.

She got a very, very nice PG-rated kiss.

"Only your mouth?" he asked, once he'd pulled free. "What must I say to engage the rest of you?"

"Well, you'd probably have to give a few more compliments," Yurika replied merrily. "You've only complimented my voice and my mouth; the rest of me can't be properly appreciative if we don't have anything to thank you for!"

Romeo grinned at that, and took a moment to drink her in. "Your eyes are two pieces of the tropical ocean, your ears flower-petals and your neck the flower's stem, your breasts perfect pillows, and -- should I keep going, or have you the drift of my thoughts?"

"'Perfect pillows'?" she asked, laughing. "Are you sure that your thoughts aren't drifting towards nap-time?"

She was blushing, however, at the litany of praise.

"Toward bed, at least," he acknowledged, with a laugh of his own. "But I mean it all, you know."

"Bed is a few hours off yet," Yurika replied mock-sadly. "But I'm sure my appreciative attributes and I can find other ways to keep you entertained until then."

Smirking slightly, she leaned in for another kiss, this one pushing the limits of a PG-13 designation.

Pixie Dust, Wednesday, 11/5

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