fandomtownies | Luke's Diner, December 6 (Monday)

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Luke's Diner, December 6 (Monday)

Had she actually managed to listen to the radio last night, Lacey might've had more misgivings about coming in to work today. But Saturday's pastry precipitation had --

Inspired her to bake. This sudden motivation didn't in any way, shape, or form have a thing to do with the inexplicable and quite frankly sad need to prove (to herself) that she didn't have to worry about being outdone by Fandom weather of all things. Of course it didn't. Why in the name of the diner's overly-full pastry display case this morning would you ever have reason to think that? Look, anyway, the point here was that she'd been so occupied in an all-out baking blitz in her kitchen that she hadn't gotten around to the Sunday night broadcast.

Today's Specials
Deep-Dish Winter Fruit Pie with Walnut Crumb Topping*
Dark Chocolate Tart with Gingersnap Crust
Peach Cobbler

* - Not recommended for Martians

NOW HIRING - See Manager for Details

Luke's is open, perhaps a little themey, and in no way overcompensating for anything. Rea --

Lacey did, at some point, notice the footnote scrawled at the bottom of the specials board. "Okay, who put that there?"

-- really.

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Try the peach cobbler. No, really. Please do.

Who can't get any of the diner staff to cop to the footnote on the board. Sigh.

There were little goblins and a random maze hanging out in town, so Angua, in a rare turn of events, actually had a lot to do, which meant no sitting around for lunch today, but she was definitely going to stop in and grab something.

"I can just get something to go, right, Lacey?" she asked, popping her head in and all but sighing with relief for a moment to actually breathe. "Oh, peach cobbler. Not exactly the healthiest lunch, but it's better than nothing."

"It was fun to make," Lacey said with a little giggle, waving a handful of silverware she'd been sorting at Angua. But she set that down and went for a takeout container as she asked, "Busy day today?"

Enjoy that oblivion while it lasts, Lacey. It won't last long.

"You clearly haven't noticed the goblins, then, have you," Angua said dryly.

Funny how she always complained about never having enough to do, and then, as soon as there was something...

...but did they have to be bloody goblins? She'd almost rather have imps.

"What are you talking about? Of course I noticed the --"

And thunk, went the takeout container half full of peach cobbler onto the counter.

"Goblins?"

Angua was just going to look at Lacey for a moment. Sure, she could smell everything, so she was probably a bit more aware of them than the average person, but still...

"How do you even get to work, Lacey?"

Lacey was still stuck back on 'goblins.'

". . . I walk?"

How she'd made it in Fandom this long . . .

"You're not secretly blind, by any chance, are you?"

"I am not!" Lacey almost flailed -- almost, luckily, and not actually, as that would've gotten messy what with spoonfuls of peach cobbler flying everywhere. "I mean, sure, I took a couple of wrong turns on my way in this morning, but I was distracted thinking up recipes!"

"Then...that might solve the riddle," Angua offered. "They must have been some pretty complex recipes, though."

"Oh, yeah," Lacey said quickly, nodding. "Really, really complex. I'm saving those up for special occasions, like. . ."

To tell the truth, she'd gotten distracted debating whole-grain versus wheat hamburger buns, which meant her claim was losing integrity rapidly.

". . . special ones. With . . . streamers and things."

It was clearly a very tough decision, though.

"Pity my birthday's already passed," Angua said wryly, shaking her head and finding another faint sigh. "Lacey, sometimes I envy you more than you could ever imagine."

"Aww, really?" Lacey finished boxing up the peach cobbler and dug out a green-and-red paper bag with little snowmen and Christmas trees all over it, promptly depositing the box inside. "That's sweet of you. Tell you what, as a belated birthday present, this and the coffee are on the house today."

"As much as I wish I could refuse that," Angua said with a faint smile as she took the bag, "on a day like today, it's nearly impossible to say no to free food and coffee."

"Because of goblins," Lacey agreed in that humoring you tone, though it was rapidly becoming less humoring and more oh gosh, really? "D'you want me to send over a few carafes to the station, too?"

Angua considered how many cigars Vimes had gone through just that morning.

"It would be an incredible service to your community, Lacey," she decided with a nod.

Enough for a medal or something. At least a ribbon.

Oh, Angua, you couldn't have said anything more perfect; Lacey lit up like an entire bank of stadium floodlights. "That's exactly what I was going for! Let me get right on that," she exclaimed, exploding (not literally) into a flurry of measuring coffee grounds and setting up carafes to brew. "It's the least I can do, you know, supporting all of you hard-working civil servants."

Angua just knew how to call 'em sometimes. She couldn't help smiling when she managed to get that response out of Lacey.

"We'll definitely never say no to free good coffee and a helping hand."

"As long as you don't mean that helping hand literally, any time!"

. . . Lacey still had occasional flashbacks to the disembodied ones. And not the fun kind of cracked-out flashbacks.

Well. Not to her.

"I may be Uberwaldian," Angua said, knowing Lacey would have no idea what she was talking about, but that was half the fun, anyway, "but I'm hardly an Igor. I assure you, I prefer helping hands that are still attached to helping wrists."

"And then arms, and shoulders, and the rest of everything that goes along with them?" Lacey had to check.

Was that semi pop-eyed, bewildered facial expression (best described as "O.o") what you were going for, Angua?

It wouldn't have been, if Lacey didn't wear it so well.

"Naturally," Angua said with a nod, and just barely kept herself from commenting on how the only thing an arm without everything that goes along with it was good for was a game of fetch.

"Oh, good," Lacey said -- her voice was absolutely not a touch more high-pitched, and absolutely not out of possible oncoming hysteria. Of course it wasn't. (Worrying about roaches crawling through her diner was bad enough; worrying about disembodied limbs? Yeesh.) "Well, uh . . . since we're fresh out of unattached helping hands . . . do you want to borrow a cart or something to get all this stuff back to the station?"

Angua waved one of her own attached hands. "I'll send over some troopers," she said. "They'll be glad for the break."

Yes, it was getting to a point where physical labour would be optimal over dealing with those bloody goblins.

If things were getting to that point, what was the island coming to? Don't answer that.

"Aww, they're welcome to stop by for breaktime as long as this is going on," Lacey promised, tossing a pack of celery sticks into the bag with the cobbler, for good measure. (Healthy, stress-relieving crunchy snacks and all.) "Tell you what -- food's free for them, too, okay? All of you at the station, actually."

"Are you sure, Lacey?" asked Angua, eyebrows frowning slightly. "I'm pretty sure those troopers have hollow legs. Not that it isn't appreciated, of course, but I'd hate to let you decide something you'll regret later."

"I'll risk it," Lacey told her. "I'm used to cops with big appetites."

Two of them, granted. Details.

Conspiratorially, she asked, "Say, you wouldn't mind too much if I tried to tell the kitchen guys they're there to question them?"

Bad idea, Lacey. Bad idea.

There was a bit of a pause there.

"What for?" Angua asked, not sure if she wanted to.

"Peach Cobbler, please," Scully requested, looking out of sorts. Maybe good food would help.

"That seems to be a hit today," Lacey observed. "Boy, I'm glad I baked up a storm. You look like you could use it. Bad day?"

"I was listening to Radio, and it said some people disappeared. Normally I wouldn't believe it, but... I can't find a few of them." Scully looked genuinely worried. "And something was giggling at me on the way here."

That would be the goblin riding the top of the rickshaw, Scully.

"Sergeant Angua mentioned goblins."

The balloon of Lacey's last vestiges of denial was deflating rapidly, as her crestfallen expression hinted. "I missed radio last night -- people are disappearing now?"

"Well, they're certainly nowhere to be found," Scully said, lacing her fingers together, and biting her lip. "Has this ever happened before? Goblins? I know you mentioned people disappearing ages ago to me, something about the stone angels..."

There's a label for Adult Chocolate Milk (http://www.adultchocolatemilk.com/) stuck up there today.

Because Martians are allergic to tree nuts. Trufax.

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Luke's Diner, December 6 (Monday)

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