strangetrip | [EP] Tea and Cookies

For a few weeks Dot had just pitched in where it seemed like she would be useful and tried to pick up any interesting information for her notebook. Not that she'd learned anything too terribly useful, certainly nothing that would lead to a way home. Then she'd discovered the small bakery in the corner of the main cafe that seemed to be the unofficial gathering place.

She watched it for a few days and then poked about in the pantry kitchen before deciding that what everyone needed - aside from a priest to give mass on Sunday - was cookies.

And bread.

And possibly scones.

What she made would be decided by what she could find in the pantry but most baked goods started with flour, butter, eggs and milk. So many of the people here seemed to lack... well what Dot thought of as essential skills. At least for a woman of her class. What Dot could do with a little flour and some eggs was a sight to be seen.

Which was why the pastry case was currently bursting with cookies, a pot of tea was ready on a side table and Dot was kneading bread at the counter wearing an apron over the most demure clothing the little boutique had to offer.

She may or may not have a smudge of flour on her nose.

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Oh, she was a sweet young woman, Constance decided at the way Dot lit up at the offer. And practical too, baking bread and quick find an apron for Constance. "Constance," she said, pointing to herself again and quickly tying the apron into place. "Bonjour, Dot."

Joining Dot behind the counter, Constance found a bowl and started mixing up more dough, measuring ingredients by eye and how they came together. As she worked, her mind could move to other things, like not only having seen Dot as just one of the many faces moving through the inn, but in connection to someone Constance had met. "Vous conn-" she began, stopping herself with a shake of her head. "Mademoiselle Fisher, oui?"

"Pleased to meet you Constance." Dot said going back to her own dough. She certainly could be sweet, but she was also practical just as Constance thought.

But not TOO practical, after all she'd made cookies first.

She was cutting her dough into equal pieces and shaping them into rolls when the other woman spoke, she glanced over and it took a moment to make sense.

"I know Miss Fisher, yes. I mean... oui. I'm her companion." She hoped that would translate somehow.

Compagnonne translated fairly easily, Constance hoped and fit with what little she'd seen of the two women together so far. Friend, yes, and confidante, but more like Constance had been for Anne, where the Spanish-born queen had been so alone surrounded by French nobles, unequal but devoted.

Constance gave another nod and smiled. She'd like Mlle. Fisher, beyond simply meeting someone she could have a conversation with, but if she had to guess, Constance thought she and Dot could be friends, once Constance learned enough English to speak in more than gestures and a shared comfort with baking.

They probably could be friends, Dot didn't know Constance not really, but she felt... friendly. Familiar.

She smiled at Constance and then as she finished setting the rolls aside to rise she arched a brow.

"Can you make croissant?" She sort of shrugged and put out her hands in a helpless gesture. Maybe Constance could show her?

The only word Constance understood was croissant, but she wasn't sure what the moon had to do with baking bread. Her brow furrowed, but she took the dough she was forming and shaped it into a simple crescent, then looked back at Dot, question plain on her face. Neither of them realized the flaky croissant pastry France was known for was less than a century old when Dot first tasted one.

Dot couldn't help it she laughed, obviously not, and she could see a translator was going to be needed eventually.

"It's shaped like that oui, but it's... I'll ask Miss Fisher." She knew of course most of that wouldn't make sense but her smile was warm so it was obviously not a big deal.

Constance would rather laugh at the confusion than be frustrated by it, if she didn't, she'd have to start throwing things, frustrated nearly all the time here. So her laughter joined Dot's, and she shrugged a what can you do. Mlle. Fisher would know what they were trying to say. If it were important, Dot could find her and ask.

"Another time, maybe. For now, we can bake bread, not having a clue what we're saying."

[ooc: Fade?]

[EP] Tea and Cookies

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