Summary: Rose has a bad day. Jade has a solution. (600 words)
Note: This fic was written in response to the prompt: i've had a horrible week and you just brought me home my favourite treat, from
snogfairy's
wholesome domestic prompts list. It's also a fill for the
genprompt_bingo square: takeout. Part of the
Leaf and Letter AU.
[ETA: the slightly revised
final version is now up on AO3!]
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Take a Break
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"Rose?"
"I'm sorry, the party you've dialed is not available. Please try again later," Rose said through the muffling veil of her handcrafted afghan. "Maybe some day when I haven't just spent three weeks on a breakneck tour and the past three days trying to run damage control on that stupid WisCon panel."
Jade's weight settled onto the sofa near Rose's hip, and her hand descended to gently pet Rose's back through the layers of wool and her silk dressing gown. (Rose had long been of the opinion that if she was going to brood, then by all gods both named and nameless, she was going to make a properly melodramatic fashion statement while languishing in woegothic misery. Besides, silk felt nice.) "There, there," Jade said.
"You're making light of my suffering," Rose accused from the depths of her fabric tomb. "The romance is dead."
"Light of my days, dark of my nights, our love is a rose in the garden of my heart -- and not one of those finicky tea roses that die if you sneeze at them; one of the heritage bush types that eat sheds and garages unless you prune them with a machete," Jade said, amusement clearly audible in her tone though she graciously managed not to actually snicker aloud. "If I still think you're sexy bundled up like the world's most ridiculous caterpillar -- which I do, heck if I know why! -- then I think the romance is pretty safe. But seriously, it'll blow over. And in the meantime, I brought you delicious takeout!"
"Food is a hollow conspiracy dreamed up to stave off the eternal truth of the universe's implacable indifference to life," Rose proclaimed.
"Yes, yes, the cake is a lie," Jade agreed, still petting Rose's back and shoulders. "But this isn't cake. This is fried dumplings from the Bamboo Palace, plus that weird garlic shrimp thing you like, plus as many fortune cookies as I could talk Mrs. Yao into fitting in the bag. I need to you mock the fortunes with me, Rose. It's imperative. I may fall into the broodfester throes if you don't, and we both know this household has a strict policy of only one unintelligible gibbering wreck at a time."
"This is blackmail and foul extortion," Rose said into the sofa cushions.
Jade's hand abandoned Rose's back -- a sudden yet inevitable betrayal. "Well, obviously! The question is, is it working?"
Rose sighed. "Yes, damn all creation to the nether pits of chaos. Ugh. Help me untangle myself and hand over the dumplings. I also demand chopsticks and soy sauce. If I'm going to be bribed and blackmailed into something approximating functional humanity, you'd better pull out all the stops."
"I even pulled out the embroidered napkins your mom gave us for my birthday," Jade promised, and, being a kind and generous soul, didn't take the opportunity to tickle Rose as she helped her lever herself upright and begin peeling the afghans off.
She did take the opportunity to kiss the rim of Rose's ear, but Rose accepted the additional bribe with regal grace. Jade's later insistence that she had squeaked was baseless fabrication.
And if mocking terrible fortune-cookie sayings gave Rose a better perspective on the deluge of offensive comments and tweets currently swamping her online presence, that was merely correlation, not causation. Or at least that was Rose's story, and since she was the professional storyteller in this household, clearly her words held more weight than those of a botanist.
Jade, the traitor, just laughed and stole Rose's last dumpling.
(It was okay. She'd earned it.)
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End of Story
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Look, I wrote a thing! :)
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