Fic: C Is For Cherry Coke (1/1)
Title: C Is For Cherry Coke (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Kristen Bouchard, Ben Shakir, David Acosta, Sally Watkins
Fandom: Evil
Genres: Fluff, Humor, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: For N Is For Night Terrors (2x1)
Summary: Kristen, David and Ben enjoy much-needed downtime before their next assignment.
Date Of Completion: August 25, 2021
Date Of Posting: August 29, 2021
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Robert King and Michelle King do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1910
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Note: Is their next assignment in upstate New York? Don't know, haven't seen S Is For Silence (2x7) yet. If not, consider this AU-ish. :)
Than a good,
Old-fashioned diner,
With plenty of pie,
Diners saying hi,
Burgers hot off the grill,
You’ll sure eat your fill,
Of the juicy and sweet.
Life sure is neat.”
The Pie Plates
“Americana”
Mellontown Records
1957 C.E.
Kristen tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of the speedy little car she was driving down the country road. Ben was sleeping in the backseat while David sat up front in the passenger seat. He looked at her with fond amusement.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Kristen tapped out a staccato beat. “A beautiful day, good company, the open road. What’s not to enjoy?”
Ben snored and they both laughed.
“Snow makes the countryside pretty,” said David. He was holding his phone and checking his messages.
“How can you tell, looking at that cellphone?”
“Sorry.” David put the phone in his coat pocket. “Hazards of modern life, I guess.”
“Do you good to get out of the city.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I’m down with that.”
David glanced into the backseat. ”Ben needs a change of scenery.”
“Yeah.” Kristen thought how subdued Ben had been since they had rescued him from the hotel sub-basement. David was distracted, too, his attention divided between Leland’s phony exorcism and his upcoming ordination. “We all need to get out of the city.”
“I know, with you and LeRoux and all.”
Kristen nearly drove off the road. “Wh...what?”
“Whoa, careful. Did a squirrel dash out into the road?” David scanned the road.
“Hit a patch of ice,” Kristen said through gritted teeth. Her heart was pounding and she clutched the wheel with a white-knuckled grip.
“Wha's goin’ on up there?” Ben asked, only half-awake.
“Road conditions,” David answered.
Ben yawned and rubbed his face. “Are we there yet?”
Kristen could not help exchanging smiles with David despite her turmoil.
“By the way, for future reference,” Ben said, “if it’s between us and Rocket J. Squirrel, I’m afraid Rocky will have to lose.”
“On the other hand, if it should be Bullwinkle J. Moose in the road…” David said.
“...go around him,” Ben finished.
Kristen kept her eyes on the road. Did David know what she had done to LeRoux?
No, he doesn’t. He just meant my outrage over LeRoux getting out of prison. He knows nothing.
“I’m hungry,” whined Ben.
“Looks like we’ve got our own child,” David said.
“Looks like,” agreed Kristen. “We’ve got time. How about some lunch? I saw a sign that advertised a diner a short distance away.”
“Sounds good,” David said.
“I’m in!” said Ben.
“We know that,” Kristen said with a smile. She kept driving for a few more minutes and pointed. “There it is.”
“The Lucky Duck?” David asked in an incredulous tone. “Who are the owners, the cousins of Six Chicks?”
Kristen grinned as she turned into the parking lot. The modest diner’s customers owned old cars and beat-up pick-up trucks, though there was a sleek Corvair in one slot.
“Good eats cheap,” Kristen declared as she parked and shut off the engine.
”A place like this has to be cheap,” Ben grumbled as he got out of the car.
“City snob.”
The trio entered the diner, tiny bells jingling over the door. Kristen tensed slightly. She was worried that a white woman, African-American man and a man who looked Middle Eastern traveling together could be a source of conflict in a rural area, but no one even gave them a glance. Most customers looked like farmers in their jeans and flannel shirts, but there was a couple in a corner booth who clearly belonged to the Corvair.
Maybe that’s it. People here are used to visitors from the city.
The diner was classic chrome with counter and booths and plastic pie containers on the counter. A colorful jukebox was at the far end. The sound of sizzling could be heard in the kitchen. Mouthwatering smells were coming out of that kitchen.
The trio settled into a booth and a middle-aged waitress came over carrying laminated menus. “You folks care for something to drink while you peruse the menus?” She was wearing a yellow uniform with orange trim and apron. Her hair was cotton-candy pink, and a gold tooth gleamed when she smiled. Kristen liked her immediately.
“Diet Coke, please,” Kristen said.
“Me, too.” Ben took a menu from the waitress.
“Do you have Cherry Coke?” asked David.
“Oh, a man after my own heart! Sure do, hon.” The orange cap wiggled as she nodded her head. “Comin’ right up!” She left after placing the menus on the table.
“Well, you’re a hit,” Ben said sarcastically.
“Can I help it if I speak diner?” David said smugly.
Ben rolled his eyes and Kristen laughed. She picked a menu up off the table and surveyed the contents “So if you heard someone say ‘Adam and Eve on a raft…’”
“Two eggs on toast,” David said.
“'Wreck ‘em.’”
“Scrambled eggs.”
Ben rolled his eyes again.
Kristen kept grinning. The menu did not contain pictures but the written descriptions were quite good. Someone had really put their heart into it.
The waitress came over and delivered the drinks. “Diet Cokes for the lady and gentlemen, and a Cherry Coke for hon.”
David smiled sweetly and Ben sighed while Kristen snickered.
“You folks ready to order?”
“Yes, I’d like the turkey club, please,” said Kristen.
“Good choice, sweetie. It comes with our very crisp lettuce, fresh tomatoes and chives, and low-fat mayo.”
“Sounds good.”
“We have sides of either French fries or dill potato salad. It’s made with vinegar, not mayo, and delicious.”
“Sold.”
“And for you, yummy pie?” the waitress asked Ben.
It was David’s turn to snicker.
“Fries, please.”
“Plain or spicy?”
“Plain.”
“And…?”
“Roast beef club. Everything she’s having, but swap out the mayo for mustard.”
The waitress wrote it down. “Now, hon?”
David answered. “Spicy.”
She smiled, the gold tooth glittering.
“Your house burger, medium-to-well.”
She nodded. “You need anything, hon, just call ol’ Sally.”
Kristen smiled as Sally hustled off. “Sally’s a classic.”
“A classic what?” Ben asked.
“Oh, stop being jealous,” David said.
Ben snorted and sipped his drink.
Kristen sipped through her red-and-white straw. Her gaze fell on the jukebox. She waved at Sally, who came over.
“Is that a real Wurlitzer?” Kristen asked.
“Sure is. Fella donated it so he could hear songs he liked when he eats here.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
“Oh, it is.” Sally hurried off to take care of a customer.
Kristen fished a quarter out of her purse and walked over to the jukebox. She read the selections and chose one.
Coming back to the booth, she was met by David’s raised eyebrow. “Marvin Gaye?”
“I like Motown,” Kristen said as she slid into her seat.
‘Listen, baby/Ain’t no mountain high…’
“Many depths to you, Ms. Bouchard.”
You have no idea.
'Ain't no valley low...'
Despite her worries, Kristen was enjoying herself. It had been too long since the three of them were simply enjoying each other’s company without doom-and-gloom hanging over them. They really needed a break. She remembered yelling, “Road trip!” when they started on their journey.
“I wonder how they came up with the name Lucky Duck," Ben said as he propped his chin on his cupped hand.
“Maybe they had gallons of leftover yellow and orange paint?” David guessed.
“Maybe Sally bought the uniform and they designed the theme around her?” Kristen’s eyes sparkled.
“Somehow, I think the name Daffy Duck is applicable here,” said Ben.
“Does that make me Bugs Bunny?” David asked.
“With that bald head? More like Elmer Fudd.”
Kristen burst out laughing after trying to hold it in.
“You know, Daffy,” David said as he leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial voice, “Remember, it’s Duck Season.”
Ben’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Watch yourself, Fudd.”
Kristen took another sip of her Diet Coke, her smile wide. More banter continued and then Sally arrived with their food.
“Turkey club and our yummy potato salad for the sweetie, roast beef club and fries for yummy pie, and a burger and spicy fries for hon.”
The plates were expertly presented, and Kristen requested a lemon slice for her Coke.
The two dug in and David said, “Mmm, good diner food.”
Ben admitted, “My sandwich is good.” Each plate contained a large dill pickle spear. “You gonna eat that pickle?” he asked David.
“Yes, I am.”
“Kristen?”
She grabbed her pickle. “Yes.”
Ben hid his smile as he pretended disgruntlement. He took another bite of his sandwich as Sally delivered the lemon slice to Kristen;s drink.
“Since when have you been such a diner fan?” Kristen asked.
“Why not? It’s a slice of Americana.”
“Americana is right.” Ben ate his pickle spear. “Why all the gusto, Kristen?”
“Oh, who knows what we’ll get for food at the monastery?”
“Thin gruel.”
“And that’s if we’re lucky,” David added.
“Says the soon-to-be-priest.”
“He ought to know,” Kristen said.
David took a big bite of his hamburger. “I know all.”
This time Kristen joined Ben in the rolling of eyes.
They enjoyed their food and speculated on their new assignment. When they were finished, Sally came over and smiled.
“Good appetites.”
“Good food,” David said.
“Ready for dessert?”
“What have you got?”
She pointed to the counter and the pie container. “Fresh apple baked today.”
“Sounds good to me. Guys?”
Kristen and Ben agreed.
“Okay, three apple pies.” Sally went to refill a customer’s coffee cup. The Corvair couple left the diner, the bells over the door jingling.
“I’m not sure I have any room left for pie,” Kristen said.
“Oh, you’ll find it. Remember the thin gruel,” David said as he finished his drink.
Sally cut the slices of pie herself and brought them over. “This pie is homemade, people. Fits right in.”
“With what?” Ben asked, genuinely curious.
“The diner. This is an authentic Worcester Lunch Car Company diner.”
“Worcester?”
“”Uh, huh. A city in Massachusetts. The company made a lot of classic diners.”
“I’ve read about that company,” said David. “Didn’t it close its doors in the ‘50s?”
Sally nodded/ “It was 1957. The diners are all around the country, though.”
“Made ‘em solid.”
Sally laughed. “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.” She waved at the pie plates. “The apples come from local orchards . We preserved ‘em for winter use. You should come back in the fall when they’re picked fresh off the trees.”
“We just might.”
“Oh, hon.” Sally smiled. “Enjoy!” She picked up their empty glasses. “Refills?”
“Yes, all around,” said David.
Kristen ate a bite of pie. “Mmm, this is really good!”
“I’d expect no less,” said David as he took his first bite. :Oh, yeah.”
“What’s that extra flavor?”
“Cinnamon,” said Ben. “In the pie and sprinkled on top of the crust.” He looked at them. “What? My mother and sister bake with a lot of cinnamon.”
“Thank heavens for cinnamon, then,” said Kristen.
Sally brought the fresh drinks and they ate and joked and Kristen felt more relaxed than she had been in a long time. She smiled as she ate her pie.
“Something funny?” Ben asked, spearing a piece of his pie.
“I was just thinking how lucky we are, having this time together.” She held out her glass and her friends did the same, clinking the Cokes together.
“Lucky, huh?”
Mischief glinted in her eyes. “Yes, lucky ducks.”
“Kristen!!” said David and Ben together.
She smiled as she ate her pie.
__________________________________________
*Six Chicks by
bradygirl_12.
This story can also be read on AO3.
This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)