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[agirlnamedchuck]

The facts were these that when it came to comfort foods after days of binge eating in the name of holiday spirit there was something quite satisfactory about the art of fried egg-coated toast. It was not exactly a gourmet food nor an exact delicacy or science, but it tasted good and Charlotte Charles had long ago decided that it was fun to make.

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[dreaming_cowboy]

Spike, normally, would be sleeping at this hour, but his stomach is growling and morning means someone is making breakfast, which he supposes is something in the place's favor.

And, indeed, his stomach is onto something; when he ambles in, there is food, which he heads straight for, without much of a sideways glance, assembling a plateful and then slouching into a seat, eating with one hand and making a teaspoon vanish and reappear with the other.

Might as well keep his hand in.

[piemakerprince]

Seeing Spike would always be cause for some discomfort for the pie maker - having anyone look exactly as you did could make anyone uncomfortable. (The green hair didn't help matters much.)

Ned did not, however, expect his morning to begin with the all too familiar (and unwelcomed) acid reflux burn that any sort of magic trick warranted. It was a long story, the sort dipped in bitterness and an unwillingness to explain just why he had the sort of reaction he did.

He isn't sure what makes him go talk to Spike, though he's wound a little tighter than usual. "I met your girlfriend."

[dreaming_cowboy]

Spike pauses, having just disappeared a piece of french toast through the magical means of stuffing it in his mouth, and takes in this new fact. In particular, the terminology.

Twirling the teaspoon through his fingers and with the toast still in his mouth, he ventures a, "Oh, yeah?"

He's not going to go demanding what she told the guy. Not his style. ...but he might talk to him more than he would otherwise have done.

[piemakerprince]

"It was..." Ned cocked his head as he did his best to come up with a word that wasn't so bad, "uncomfortable, at first. She thought I was you."

[transgenicmax]

When Max went to breakfast in the compound (which didn't happen too often, but happened every once in a while) she pretty much made a beeline for the coffee. This morning though, whatever was cooking smelled way too good to pass up in favor of a bowl of fruit.

"French toast? Okay, I think I have a new favorite breakfast cook." Max declared.

[agirlnamedchuck]

"French toast," Chuck repeated with a smile and nod as she flipped a slice over on the pan. The idea of picking favourites was something she did but rarely confessed to and took pride in when others admitted to. "It felt like a french toast morning."

[transgenicmax]

"Well, somebody's gonna have to start advertising these things," She decided, "Because this might just be the highlight of my week."

And at the moment, Max couldn't decide if that was really sad or just really...normal.

[agirlnamedchuck]

"I am not ashamed to say that cooking might be one of the highlights of mine."

Of course due to the fact that she was regularly found puttering around the kitchen or the bees, Saturday breakfasts were not an exception, but she did like to think that weekends were special even here. "I like to make weekends special."

[stayastranger]

Morning was Sarah's time of day. She'd been up a while already, doing a quick check in the immediate vicinity of her house before jogging up the beach. With her hair still damp from a shower, she made her way toward the kitchen. The fare varied from day to day, and though it was always pretty good, some days were better than others. This looked like one of the good days. Having gathered some food for herself, she passed around someone with a quick "Pardon me," headed for the coffee. No matter who was cooking, that was always popular.

[agirlnamedchuck]

"Totally pardoned," Chuck said with a smile, pulling her legs up and out of the way while she waited for the next batch of toast to be ready to be taken off of the pan. "Not that I am in any position to be issuing pardons, but I can pretend. How are you Sarah?"

[stayastranger]

"Not bad," Sarah said, smiling back at Chuck as she poured herself a cup of coffee. It was the truth, which, this time, was a problem, as she recalled that she was supposed to have been dumped not that long before. "I've been better, but not bad. How about you? Breakfast looks delicious, by the way."

[agirlnamedchuck]

"Have you?" Chuck asked, a bit concerned because better indicated that there was something worse than normal even if she was not familiar with the level that normal was. "And thank you. I like to make Saturdays special."

[piemakerprince]

Still fancying himself full from Ellie's dinner two nights past, Ned had done something extremely rare this morning: he hadn't made a single pie, and had been content as Chuck's assistant as she worked.

Even a pie maker needed a break now and then.

"I like french toast," he told Chuck as he stood at the counter next to where she was seated and considered the plate he'd made for himself - and Chuck to pick at, if she wanted. "It's all the comfort of toast with none of the crumbly mess."

[curiously_cora]

"It's a recipe, you can't trust recipes. You start to think yummy turkey and then you bite into it and it's stuffed with fruit and herbs and you can't even taste the turkey anymore and it's just disgusting." Coraline said to the pie making man, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the french toast before sighing and taking a chair to the cupboard. Standing on the chair she reached for the cereal and sighed happily. You could trust cereal; no one ever did anything interesting or unusual with cereal. "I mean I like Miss Charlotte but it's still a recipe. Blargh."

[agirlnamedchuck]

"That's exactly what it is." Raising her shoulders slightly because she couldn't demonstrate exactly the homey goodtimes feeling that the toast provided based on the fact that she had a spatula in one hand.

"It's like toast wrapped in an egg blanket."

[curiously_cora]

Coraline made a face at the recipe. She liked Miss Charlotte, who had a rather strange duo aunts similar to how she had a strange duo of neighbours, but she didn't trust the recipe. It could be hiding anything in there. Like prunes or figs or thyme. Ew. Putting her spoon into her bland and boring bowl of generic cereal Coraline smiled happily. This was what she liked.

[segaboybrodie]

"You know there's French toast, right?" Brodie asked the girl eating cereal. Maybe her smell glands were all fucked up or something and she didn't know there was actual food in the kitchen that morning. Not that Brodie didn't enjoy a bowl of cereal every now and then, but not knowing that there were good eats around was the only explanation Brodie could come up with for someone eating cereal instead.

[curiously_cora]

"It's a recipe, you don't know what sort of things she might have put in it. Like when dad makes Roast dinner and you think everything is fine until you've got dried fruit in your mouth and everything tastes like garlic," Coraline said making a face at the idea of eating French Toast. All she really wanted was microwaveable meals and then she'd be a very happy girl. Or a McDonalds. "And I like cereal. There's nothing ever hidden in it like mice or herbs or fruit or spices. Except sometimes when there's a toy but usually you can see them."

[segaboybrodie]

"What's wrong with FRUIT?" Brodie asked. Jesus fucking Christ, what a weird kid. He shrugged. "And there COULD have been a mouse in it, for all you know. It's not like you can guard the cereal box all night. Or one of those big goddamn jungle bugs."

Not that Brodie had seen any around the kitchen, but it didn't mean that they never managed to visit.