fandomtownies | J,GoB; Sunday Morning [10/13].

Boc had managed to keep himself out of trouble lately, and so he felt there was really no reason to mess with that with things like going outside or doing things. However, it had been an awfully long time since he'd gone and had a cinnamon roll, so he figured, if he just scamper in, got what he wanted, and then quickly scamper off to the shopagain, it would all be fine.

What he hadn't accounted for (and how could he have possibly??) was how excited the staff was to see him come in again. Absolutely bewildered hy such a reaction, Boc's protests about them making him something nice and fresh were entitely lost, especially after theyd given him a pumpkin biscotti to nibble on while he waited for his Very Special Cinnamon Roll, which he accepted with a miserable little "oh, well, alright, then....", with his eyes on the door in hopes that it wouldn't take so long that other people started to come in before he could free.

[[ work may explode on me, but this post is most certainly open for all your Sunday baked good needs! ]]

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The staff at JGoB were very good about noticing when regulars went missing and celebrating when they returned, weren't they?

"Morning, Boc," Stark said when he walked in in search of something apple-y (not pumpkin spice-y, he wasn't willing to risk it).

It was almost as though it was some easy excuse for a good reason for someone to actually stay put, or something!

There was a faintly distressed groan out of Boc as he realized that this might only be the beginning, casting a disparaging look over beyond the counter as he wondered just how long it took to bake just one cinnamon roll anyway. And since it was clearly going to be longer than now, he turned his attention toward Stark with a sigh.

"G-good morning," he agreed. "Happy Sunday. All those other things, yes."

Stark was trying, Boc! He was. But perhaps that was the problem.

"It's a good Sunday," he agreed. "Cinnamon rolls again today? I was looking for something with apples. I...I made cinnamon rolls with apples, the other day. I should have brought you one."

Because that would have been a totally normal and not at all weird interaction, of course!

"Would you like one, if I make them again?"

That was exactly, emphatically the problem.

"Er, um," Boc said, swallowing a bite of his biscotti, "no. Thank you. That's very kind of you, sir, of course, but I believe I'm quite alright."

Did it help at all if he was trying not to try so hard? He was! See, he wasn't even going to push the theoretical cinnamon roll!

"All right," Stark said, "if you're sure. Is that good, the cookie you're having?"

Maybe he might even figure out that he was better off just saving his breath and not even asking, eventually!

A mildly concerned and confused expression crossed Boc's face for a moment as he regarded his treats. "Oh," he said, "but they called it a biscotti? Not a cookie? But, erm, I suppose it doesn't matter, it is quite good. I don't suspect they'd give me something that wasn't, though no one would blame them if they did, all thing considered. It's pumpkin, I believe. Everything seems to have pumpkin in it now, doesn't it? Pumpkin and cinnamon and apples...."

Another small, tiny nibble of the biscotti before he added, "Erm, and, well...what was it you were thinking of getting today?"

"Oh, biscotti," Stark nodded. "I forgot the word."

Not something he ordered often and certainly not anything he'd ever made. Perhaps if a Thursday took him to Italy sometime he'd develop a taste for it.

"I don't think I've ever had anything here that wasn't good even if I didn't like it as much as other things. I was looking for apples, today. Maybe an apple cake? Or pie."

He could make something, of course, but it was nice to buy these things sometimes.

Boc's head bobbed along as he listened. "Both sound like very good choices," he noted, "and may they be ready and quick so you don't have to wait too long to enjoy them..."

Perhaps he should just leave with only the biscotti...

But then his stomach demanded that he stay for the cinnamon roll, alas!

Cinnamon rolls were hard to resist. Even in the face of a well-meaning but awkward Banik who inexplicably kept trying to be friendly like a weirdo.

"The cake, please," Stark said to the worker behind the counter, pointing to the one he wanted. "And...one of those maple cookies, for now?"

The cake was for sharing, later. And maybe for breakfast tomorrow.

"I don't mind waiting for things here," he said to Boc. "It's my favorite shop on the island."

"I'm not really sure I've spent much time in any other shops except this one and my own," Boc admitted, "but I'd say I like mine better..."

He looked a little tortured, having to say that in front of ears that might hear and get a little offended, but he still couldn't help adding a maybe vaguely pointed, "It's much quieter there."

"Have you ever tried ice cream?" Stark asked. "You might like that. And the shop it's in. Even if it's often not quiet there."

He offered a very small and slightly crooked smile. "Your shop is quite nice. And...and sometimes quiet is better, isn't it?"

J,GoB; Sunday Morning [10/13].

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