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[piemakerprince]

One could say that if there were any one place on the island the pie maker belonged, it was the kitchen. And, if there were any one time he belonged there more than any other, it was the day before Thanksgiving

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[crazyspacegirl]

Though River was pleased that she and Mal had decided to have some of their favorite people over for dinner on the holiday of Thanksgiving that they had learned about, it hadn't really struck her until the day before that it meant they were actually going to have to feed all of those people. So she had done some research into traditional types of foods, and she and the rest of Serenity's crew were doing their best to put together something suitable, and she had been tasked to see what could reasonably be liberated from the compound's kitchen supplies.

"Oh. Pies," she said, realizing that she hadn't ever made a pie before. "Are they difficult to make?"

Simon Chicago, not caring about the details of food until it was ready for eating, joined Digby under the table.

[piemakerprince]

That was a rather new question, in the grand scheme of things. Usually the questions went more along the lines of, 'can I have some?' to which the answer was always yes.

Ned liked the familiar, but sometimes breaking from it was a good thing. Especially when it involved pie.

"It's not too hard, no," he replied. "I learned when I was nine."

[crazyspacegirl]

River was mildly annoyed to find something else she would have liked to learn as a child but had apparently missed out on, but at least she had time and opportunity to make up for it now.

"May I watch? I'd like to learn how," she asked politely. "I'm River, and that's Simon Chicago."

Simon thumped his tail on the floor at the sound of his name.

[piemakerprince]

"I'm Ned," replied the pie maker, "and that's Digby." Digby was much like his master when it came to meeting new people, human and canine alike, but Simon seemed nice enough.

He wasn't trying to sniff or otherwise paw his way into Digby's space right away, and that was something.

"You can watch," he agreed, giving River a slight smile. "That's how I learned. Watching, then practicing myself."

[wont_call]

Carla Jean was decidedly not thinking about the fact that it was Thanksgiving, and that she was spending it alone. As far as she was concerned, it didn't have to be different than any other day on the island. There was no reason for her to be any more lonely than usual. It'd been nearly four months, anyway. She ought to have been, if not moving on, at least making progress, and some holiday that half the people here didn't celebrate wasn't going to deter that.

Just because she told herself that, though, didn't mean she was succeeding.

Seeing Ned in the kitchen was enough to make her smile a little, at least. "I think Digby likes the sound of that," she said, taking a seat at the table so she could reach one hand down and pet Digby's head. "Hey, Ned." She didn't want to ask what the pies were for. She had a feeling she already knew the answer.

[piemakerprince]

"Digby has excellent taste," Ned replied, which was true. His taste also ran rather close to Ned's own, which was an inevitable sort of thing to happen when you'd been together as long as they had.

Ned shook flour off his hands from where he'd begun cleaning off the counter, and turned to face Carla Jean, a smile on his face. There were few people Ned could actually call friends, and she was one of them.

That didn't mean, of course, that he was any better at consoling her after the months had passed since her husband's death, but Ned would...try. His best. It was just easier when Chuck was around to do most of the trying for them.

[wont_call]

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Carla Jean said lightly, and while the statement was half-teasing, she did mean it. Digby had shown only good taste so far, after all. Especially in instances like these, when it concerned pie, she certainly couldn't disagree. It was a good thing to be focusing on, anyway, Ned's pies rather than the occasion they were most likely for. Consolation wasn't so much what she was looking for, with all the time that had passed, but distraction was a different story. "So what kind of pie do we have?"

[piemakerprince]

Ned always enjoyed conversations more when they revolved around easier topics, like pie. Pie was general. Pie was for everyone. The only sticky topics that came up when pie was involved were the fillings.

"There's apple in the oven," he said, pointing over, "but your choice between mango and kiwi-lime, if you want some."

[agirlnamedchuck]

"Three is a good number," declared the girl named Chuck who despite not being the one it was aimed at, had exited the pantry with a smile on her face and flour on her hands ready and willing to help anyway that she could. "Three point one four one five nine and so on and so four would be better in terms of pies, but I think that would be a little bit over the top, don't you think?"

Pi for pies while a catchy slogan was not necessarily an appropriate Thanksgiving notion. She loved Holidays of all shapes and sizes, big and small for they always managed to warm the heart and heal the soul.

[piemakerprince]

"Just a little bit," Ned said with a smile. "But only because it'd be impossible to make a pi number of pies. We'd be baking for infinity." Not that was ever such a notion as too much baking when it came to the pie maker.

[agirlnamedchuck]

"That isn't such a bad thought. Though we might run out of ingredients after a while," Chuck said, sprinkling a bit of flour down on the counter to keep the dough from sticking. "And people who were willing to eat the pie."

[piemakerprince]

Ned thought about that for a moment as he sliced an apple the same way he sliced every apple he'd ever put in an apple pie. "Maybe, but I don't think the world will ever run out of people who want pie. There'll always be someone."

[sgmitchell]

It wasn't immediately apparent who he was talking to, but when there was pie involved, Cam had no issues with speaking up once in awhile. After all, his mother made some of the best around.

He glanced up from the sandwich he was preparing. "Sounds like you've got somethin' to be thankful about."

[piemakerprince]

For a moment, the pie maker had no idea what the other man meant. Of course, it came to him in a few seconds, but he could hardly be blamed for this being only the second Thanksgiving he would actually be able to celebrate in twenty years.

Being abandoned before Halloween and spending a miserable holiday season dealing with all the feelings of loss and anger that came with it tended to sour the holidays for the rest of a young boy's life.

"I suppose I do," he said, then cocked his head. "You make pies, too." It wasn't a question so much as needing confirmation; while Ned didn't exactly associate with the rest of the population much, it was hard not to see others who baked and generally used the kitchen for more than stopping by for something to eat.