The Frye House kitchen seems to be going full steam. There's a tea pot on the stove, baking supplies spread out over the counter, and one mechanic bustling about in the middle of it all. She's a lot more cheerful now than she was a year ago, when systems were shutting down and they were all suffocating. Definitely a better day, and by far a
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She stood at one of the counters, stirring a big bowl of cake frosting in her arms. When the consistency was right, she looked up. "So what colour should the frosting be?"
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“Well, our cake’s pink,” Kaylee said thoughtfully, looking between the batter and the frosting. “What do you say to yellow or blue?” Because white was obviously too boring.
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Not that Alexis was quite sure how to do that right then, but she could probably figure it out before the cake was finished.
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Kaylee set to pouring the mix into the baking pan. "Now, see, I like the flowers idea too," she agreed. "Think those're just what we need to set the cake off with a good, shinin' happiness to it."
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“You’re invited too,” she says, nice and clear for him. “We’ll have plenty of cake.”
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Emboldened by the invitation, he raises his eyes again to the tablet and tips his head to the side. "Why's it pink?"
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“The cake?” she asks, moving to set the timer. “Strawberry flavorin’. And it’s one of my favorite colors, so that’s nice too.”
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Strawberry?
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Good guess. Was it that obvious?
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[ she's calling you predictable, kaylee. but with affection, so it's okay. she is also beginning the awkward task of climbing down. cake time demands no hesitation, only action. ]
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Slow down, mei mei, everythin’ll still be here when you get here. Wouldn’t dream of startin’ without you. [ Read: please don’t fall out of the tree and break yourself, River. ]
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It's followed with a little frown, though, a furrowed brow. "You are certain I cannot bring anything? Tea, perhaps? I have a delightful variety..."
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Kaylee shakes her head. “If you wanna bring tea that’s shiny, but nothin’ else. We’ve got most everythin’ taken care of here.”
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***
It's about twenty minutes later when he actually shows up, a small little box wrapped in bright red foil in one hand. Up the road to the ranch, peering around for where the people and the party are.
"Ni hao?"
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“We’re in here, finishin’ the preparations,” she calls. “You can come in, if you like.”
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With the guitar case in his left hand he knocked briskly with his right. "Has the riffraff quota for this party been met yet?" he called through the door.
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