pre RAT's Story
Timeframe : 1255
Rating : G/PG-ish
the recipe is my grandmother's
The kitchen was filled with the comforting warmth of the oven. Lyssa cast off her cloak and slung it over the back of a chair, tossing her gloves after it. Leaving her snow drenched boots by the door, she crossed the room to where Rune leaned over the counter intent on a large wooden mixing bowl.
Draping an arm across his waist, she peered around him. “What are you making?” she asked.
“Cookies,” came the reply.
“Can I help?” she asked, hopefully.
He winced. “Uh, sure…” he said hesitantly.
“So what can I do?” she said.
Rune looked thoughtful for a moment and then suggested, “Bring me the flour and sugar from the cupboard.”
After giving him a light squeeze, she departed, returning a moment later with a sack of each. Rune was placing butter in the bowl. “Alright,” she said, depositing the ingredients on the counter.
“I’ll need a cup of the sugar,” he said, mashing the butter with a fork.
Lyssa took a metal cup from the counter and dipped it into the bag of sugar. She dumped it into the bowl, then licked her finger and dipped it into the bag. Rune shot her a dark look as she licked the sugar from it. She grinned back at him and he shook his head without comment as he creamed the butter and sugar in the bowl.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Well, if you’re just going to put your hands in everything…” he teased. She quickly pulled her hand again from the sugar and made a pretense of being discreet about putting it in her mouth as she cinched the bag shut. He cracked an egg into the bowl and returned to stirring. “Raisins,” he said, indicating the pot on the stovetop.
Lyssa eyed the steaming pot. “Mmm,” she said, snatching it from the stove.
“Just the juice for now,” he said, offering her a strainer over the mixing bowl. She emptied the pot into it, a sizzling sound escaping the bowl as the steaming liquid struck the butter. He put the strainer full of raisins aside and continued to stir the mixture. Lyssa took a whiff and smiled.
She looked about the counter and spotted a ceramic canister. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands a few times, examining it. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Baking soda,” Rune answered. “Toss a pinch of that in the bowl, if you would. And one of the salt too.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to stick my hands in things,” Lyssa said, grinning. He shook his head and gave an exaggerated sigh. “If you insist.” She lifted the lid from the canister and took a bit of the white dust inside between her fingers. She dropped the powder into the bowl and reached for the salt.
“And two cups of the flour,” he said.
Lyssa dipped the measuring cup into the sack, sending a small burst of flour into the air. The dust settled across her face, tickling her nose. As she lifted the heaping cup, she couldn’t fight the urge to sneeze, blowing a cloud of flour at Rune. She erupted into giggles as he brushed it off his sleeves and shook it from his hair. He paused a moment to regard her in silence as she laughed at him. Then he reached past her to the flour, took a handful, and threw it at her, which only caused her to laugh harder. Lyssa flung another scoop of powder his way and Rune retaliated with more of the same until both were laughing so hard they could scarcely breathe.
Holding a flour-covered hand to her aching side, Lyssa leaned back against the counter to steady herself. Still fighting to control his own laughter, Rune fell against the counter beside her. “Perhaps we should save some for the cookies,” he suggested.
“Perhaps,” she said, but, instead of the flour, she reached for Rune. With one hand on his hip, she pulled him to her and kissed him.
The two separated a moment later, both laughing again at the taste of flour on each other’s lips. “Perhaps we should finish with the cookies.” he said.
“Perhaps,” she said again, carrying the next scoop of flour she lifted carefully to the bowl. She followed it with another and he returned to blending the batter. “So what does that leave?” she asked.
“The raisins,” he answered, depositing them in the bowl, “and the oats.” He pointed to a third sack on the counter. “A cup of those too, please.”
Lyssa added the oats to the mixture and Rune stirred it all together. “And now?” she asked.
“You’ll like this part,” he said. “You get to stick your hands in it.” She laughed. “Roll a ball of the dough and set it on the sheet,” he said, demonstrating. She dipped a finger in the bowl and stuffed a large wad of dough in her mouth. “On the sheet, not your tongue,” he said.
“What’s the fun in that?” she said, sampling another bit of batter . As she lifted her hand for the third time to her mouth, he caught it with his own. She laughed as he took his time licking the batter off her finger. “I thought you wanted to stop me, not encourage me.”
“Why should you be the only one having fun?”
She dipped her finger in the bowl again and offered it to him. As his lips closed over her finger, a sound from the hall caught their attention.
“Ahem.” Both turned to see Ski standing in the doorway with a look of exasperation. They looked over their flour-covered selves and the mess strewn about the kitchen and burst into laughter again, as Ski turned back down the hall, silently shaking her head.
“Perhaps we should finish the cookies,” Lyssa said, struggling to stop laughing.
“Perhaps,” he answered.
Rating : G/PG-ish
the recipe is my grandmother's
The kitchen was filled with the comforting warmth of the oven. Lyssa cast off her cloak and slung it over the back of a chair, tossing her gloves after it. Leaving her snow drenched boots by the door, she crossed the room to where Rune leaned over the counter intent on a large wooden mixing bowl.
Draping an arm across his waist, she peered around him. “What are you making?” she asked.
“Cookies,” came the reply.
“Can I help?” she asked, hopefully.
He winced. “Uh, sure…” he said hesitantly.
“So what can I do?” she said.
Rune looked thoughtful for a moment and then suggested, “Bring me the flour and sugar from the cupboard.”
After giving him a light squeeze, she departed, returning a moment later with a sack of each. Rune was placing butter in the bowl. “Alright,” she said, depositing the ingredients on the counter.
“I’ll need a cup of the sugar,” he said, mashing the butter with a fork.
Lyssa took a metal cup from the counter and dipped it into the bag of sugar. She dumped it into the bowl, then licked her finger and dipped it into the bag. Rune shot her a dark look as she licked the sugar from it. She grinned back at him and he shook his head without comment as he creamed the butter and sugar in the bowl.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Well, if you’re just going to put your hands in everything…” he teased. She quickly pulled her hand again from the sugar and made a pretense of being discreet about putting it in her mouth as she cinched the bag shut. He cracked an egg into the bowl and returned to stirring. “Raisins,” he said, indicating the pot on the stovetop.
Lyssa eyed the steaming pot. “Mmm,” she said, snatching it from the stove.
“Just the juice for now,” he said, offering her a strainer over the mixing bowl. She emptied the pot into it, a sizzling sound escaping the bowl as the steaming liquid struck the butter. He put the strainer full of raisins aside and continued to stir the mixture. Lyssa took a whiff and smiled.
She looked about the counter and spotted a ceramic canister. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands a few times, examining it. “What’s this?” she asked.
“Baking soda,” Rune answered. “Toss a pinch of that in the bowl, if you would. And one of the salt too.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to stick my hands in things,” Lyssa said, grinning. He shook his head and gave an exaggerated sigh. “If you insist.” She lifted the lid from the canister and took a bit of the white dust inside between her fingers. She dropped the powder into the bowl and reached for the salt.
“And two cups of the flour,” he said.
Lyssa dipped the measuring cup into the sack, sending a small burst of flour into the air. The dust settled across her face, tickling her nose. As she lifted the heaping cup, she couldn’t fight the urge to sneeze, blowing a cloud of flour at Rune. She erupted into giggles as he brushed it off his sleeves and shook it from his hair. He paused a moment to regard her in silence as she laughed at him. Then he reached past her to the flour, took a handful, and threw it at her, which only caused her to laugh harder. Lyssa flung another scoop of powder his way and Rune retaliated with more of the same until both were laughing so hard they could scarcely breathe.
Holding a flour-covered hand to her aching side, Lyssa leaned back against the counter to steady herself. Still fighting to control his own laughter, Rune fell against the counter beside her. “Perhaps we should save some for the cookies,” he suggested.
“Perhaps,” she said, but, instead of the flour, she reached for Rune. With one hand on his hip, she pulled him to her and kissed him.
The two separated a moment later, both laughing again at the taste of flour on each other’s lips. “Perhaps we should finish with the cookies.” he said.
“Perhaps,” she said again, carrying the next scoop of flour she lifted carefully to the bowl. She followed it with another and he returned to blending the batter. “So what does that leave?” she asked.
“The raisins,” he answered, depositing them in the bowl, “and the oats.” He pointed to a third sack on the counter. “A cup of those too, please.”
Lyssa added the oats to the mixture and Rune stirred it all together. “And now?” she asked.
“You’ll like this part,” he said. “You get to stick your hands in it.” She laughed. “Roll a ball of the dough and set it on the sheet,” he said, demonstrating. She dipped a finger in the bowl and stuffed a large wad of dough in her mouth. “On the sheet, not your tongue,” he said.
“What’s the fun in that?” she said, sampling another bit of batter . As she lifted her hand for the third time to her mouth, he caught it with his own. She laughed as he took his time licking the batter off her finger. “I thought you wanted to stop me, not encourage me.”
“Why should you be the only one having fun?”
She dipped her finger in the bowl again and offered it to him. As his lips closed over her finger, a sound from the hall caught their attention.
“Ahem.” Both turned to see Ski standing in the doorway with a look of exasperation. They looked over their flour-covered selves and the mess strewn about the kitchen and burst into laughter again, as Ski turned back down the hall, silently shaking her head.
“Perhaps we should finish the cookies,” Lyssa said, struggling to stop laughing.
“Perhaps,” he answered.