Chocolate Chip
Rating: G
Word Count: 491
Characters: Sam/Jess
Warnings: None
[Schmooooop]It’s December, and Jess has been doing nothing but studying the entire month. She’s interested in cultures, rather than languages, curious about how different segments of a single society’s population interact. Suffice it to say, learning a foreign language wouldn’t be high on her list of things to do were it not a requirement of the anthropology department.
Her academic advisor had urged her to try Russian, and so she was stuck in the library going over noun cases.
She’d managed to get her favorite chair, the soft couch nestled in a corner, right near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The upholstery was a deep brown canvas and she could lean back and sink into the cushion, textbook open on her lap. Outside, a bright red leaf drifted down and landed on the windowsill.
Jessica sighed and pulled herself out of the chair. Her brain was fried; she needed a break. She gathered her books, slipped them into her bag, and headed for home.
--
She got back to the apartment at around seven. She trudges the three flights up the unfinished metal staircase lugging her heavy bag. She finds Sam sitting on the landing, wearing that sad-puppy expression he has. The hallway smells like smoke.
“You’ve been working so hard, so I wanted to make you cookies, but it... didn’t work.” Sam stared down at the floor. “I’ve never made cookies before and they caught fire.”-
“Sam.” She lifts his chin up until he’s looking at her. “Babe. Come on, I’ll show you.”
There’s a large ceramic bowl in the cupboard that Jessica brought with her to Stanford. He’s never seen her use it before, but now she brings it out and carefully puts it on the counter. It’s a white bowl, with a green vine painted around the outer rim.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells him.
Jessica goes into their room and he can hear her rummaging around in the closet. She comes back bearing a folded-up sheet of paper, which she opens and presses flat on the counter. “Family cookie recipe.” she explains.
Sam reads over the recipe and the two of them get to work.
Jess starts the oven heating and the two of them gather up the ingredients. Butter and sugar go in the bowl., then baking soda and the other ingredients get added.
Jessica scoops a spoonful of dough out of the bowl and arranges it on the cookie sheet. “See? Don’t put them too close together.” She goes and fetches another spoon from the drawer, and the two of them place the rounded heaps of dough on the sheet, their rows and columns meeting in the middle.
The oven dings. She produces a pair of potholders from somewhere and slides the sheet in.
--
The cookies are done in about 10 minutes. Crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, the fresh-baked smell drives the lingering odor of smoke from the apartment.
Word Count: 491
Characters: Sam/Jess
Warnings: None
[Schmooooop]It’s December, and Jess has been doing nothing but studying the entire month. She’s interested in cultures, rather than languages, curious about how different segments of a single society’s population interact. Suffice it to say, learning a foreign language wouldn’t be high on her list of things to do were it not a requirement of the anthropology department.
Her academic advisor had urged her to try Russian, and so she was stuck in the library going over noun cases.
She’d managed to get her favorite chair, the soft couch nestled in a corner, right near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The upholstery was a deep brown canvas and she could lean back and sink into the cushion, textbook open on her lap. Outside, a bright red leaf drifted down and landed on the windowsill.
Jessica sighed and pulled herself out of the chair. Her brain was fried; she needed a break. She gathered her books, slipped them into her bag, and headed for home.
--
She got back to the apartment at around seven. She trudges the three flights up the unfinished metal staircase lugging her heavy bag. She finds Sam sitting on the landing, wearing that sad-puppy expression he has. The hallway smells like smoke.
“You’ve been working so hard, so I wanted to make you cookies, but it... didn’t work.” Sam stared down at the floor. “I’ve never made cookies before and they caught fire.”-
“Sam.” She lifts his chin up until he’s looking at her. “Babe. Come on, I’ll show you.”
There’s a large ceramic bowl in the cupboard that Jessica brought with her to Stanford. He’s never seen her use it before, but now she brings it out and carefully puts it on the counter. It’s a white bowl, with a green vine painted around the outer rim.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells him.
Jessica goes into their room and he can hear her rummaging around in the closet. She comes back bearing a folded-up sheet of paper, which she opens and presses flat on the counter. “Family cookie recipe.” she explains.
Sam reads over the recipe and the two of them get to work.
Jess starts the oven heating and the two of them gather up the ingredients. Butter and sugar go in the bowl., then baking soda and the other ingredients get added.
Jessica scoops a spoonful of dough out of the bowl and arranges it on the cookie sheet. “See? Don’t put them too close together.” She goes and fetches another spoon from the drawer, and the two of them place the rounded heaps of dough on the sheet, their rows and columns meeting in the middle.
The oven dings. She produces a pair of potholders from somewhere and slides the sheet in.
--
The cookies are done in about 10 minutes. Crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, the fresh-baked smell drives the lingering odor of smoke from the apartment.