strangetrip | [GP/EP] Pie for Pi Day

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[GP/EP] Pie for Pi Day

The only ones who might have known yesterday held any significance were Jag and Sunny, and if they did, they also knew her well enough to know she wasn't big on celebrations. Her one tradition, a new deck for her birthday, hadn't been possible this year, since she hadn't found anything like a tarot deck on Asphodel Station. But that was okay.

Pi Day, on the other hand, was worth celebrating. Everybody liked pie. Last week, she'd talked to Pike, who had been curious and excited about a holiday for pie, and seemed eager to help. Yesterday, she'd put a notice on the bulletin board, hand-lettered over a watercolor scene of pies and more pies. She'd also made ice cream in a variety of flavors, since she wasn't Bobby to freeze it on demand, in less time than it took to prepare the custard base. Today, she left the non-pie food preparation to Ignis, the chicken chef, and anyone who wanted to fend for themselves.

Today, along with Pike and anyone else who wanted to and knew what they were doing, Emma baked pies. Fruit pies and cream pies. Quiche and pot pies. Shepherd's pie and meat pies. Hand pies, savory or sweet, baked or fried. As close as she could get to real Brooklyn-style pizza this far from Brooklyn. Some were decorated with the symbol π or the first few digits of the number it represented, as a vent in a top crust, piped in whipped cream, or carefully laid out in caramelized onions depending on the pie. And because she couldn't resist the visual pun any more now than she could the first time she celebrated Pi Day at the castle, a square apple pie (one of Bobby's favorites) and cherry tart (a recipe she'd learned from Sabine, the fruits a deep ruby red against white cream and pale crust that would have appealed to her cousin's aesthetics).

It wasn't the same as Pi Day at the castle, but there was a bustle and energy as people moved between the kitchens, the bakery, and the cafe, sitting to talk over a slice, or helping each other choose what to taste next. As long as Emma stayed busy, she could enjoy the memories without dwelling on the people she missed.

And there was pie. Everybody likes pie.

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"When've I ever turned down your company, darlin'?" Jackson asked, trying to turn and tilt his head so he could catch her gaze. She was still in a state over what had happened, but that didn't mean she should ever doubt that, the way he saw it. "C'mere," he invited her, and patted his lap. If she was going to cling, he might as well be holding her, too.

Corbie hesitated, but only for a moment before she did as she was bid. Her arms slid away and she came around to sit on Jackson's knee. "To be fair," she admitted, "never."

Jackson wrapped an arm around her waist, and stroked his other hand through her hair, an affectionate touch of greeting. "Not gonna start now."

Corbie closed her eyes and sighed softly at the touch. It would be so easy to let her body follow its inclination to cuddle, right here and now, but she didn't. "Maybe not, but I imagine it'll get annoying if I can't get my shit together."

"You can count on one thing with me," Jackson told her, hand sliding to her back to stroke circles over it. "I'll let you know when it gets to that point."

He wasn't the type of man to just go with something annoying without speaking up. Of course, he wouldn't still be here to be annoyed if it weren't for her, so she'd get a bit more leeway than normal.

Corbie smiled at that. "Never known you to be quiet about anything."

She focused on the feeling of his hand rubbing her back as words tumbled with worries and she tried to find the right way to let out the feelings that wouldn't be quiet. "You know I'd really miss you if..." she wasn't sure how to finish, but it didn't really matter.

"I know, darlin'," Jackson assured her, and pressed a kiss to her temple. He kept his lips there as he added, "I'm sorry I put you through that. And I'm grateful for what you did for me." More than he could put into words, really. 'Thanks for my life' didn't seem adequate.

It wouldn't stop him from doing it again, though, she was sure. Differently, probably, but if it hadn't been this trouble it would have been something else. That was part of why she'd mostly left him alone while the door had been open until disaster struck; he'd needed something new to do like people needed air to breathe and water to drink. And it was neither her job nor in her power to hold him back.

"I'm sorry," she murmured back, "that you're so bored." And unhappy, but she didn't say that, even if her tone implied it. Boredom was trivial, or at least it was treated like it was trivial. Dissatisfaction was deeper, and if she'd learned anything about Jackson it was that he didn't like anybody seeing too much of what was inside him.

Not that she didn't think he wouldn't do something dumb if he were happier here, but potentially something less dumb.

"Aren't we all?" Jackson remarked, more than asked. People weren't meant to be cooped up like this. There was a reason they used jailing as a punishment. This was exactly what it was, only in a better setting. One that involved boundless food and alcohol, at least, and did not separate the sexes.

"Some more'n others," Corbie answered, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. She at least had a lot of magic to learn and several people who could and would teach her. Illyana kept her busy enough on her own. Not everyone had the same promise for stimulation. Not everyone needed the same amount or the same kind of stimulation. Hell, one of the Rivers barely seemed to fidget.

Though sometimes, yes, Corbie was bored, too.

"Least I'm still learnin' about all that modern medicine," Jackson pointed out, stroking his fingers through her hair. "That's somethin' I never woulda gotten back home."

Corbie smiled a little. And then her expression folded into a thoughtful frown. "Ever think about how crazy you'd sound back home, talking 'bout the stuff you know now?" It hadn't really crossed her mind until that moment, but so many wizards back home would wonder what the hell she was even talking about

The thought gave Jackson paused, and then he laughed. "Yeah, I'd have to be careful what I say." He'd take the frustration of not being able to share what he had learned, though, if it meant being back with Susan.

"I dunno if I'd be able," Corbie admitted, a sheepish little smile tugging up one corner of her mouth. "Denying anything about magic's like denying a piece of me. It'd demand to get out sooner or later." But then, that was her nature. She couldn't keep very much of herself to herself. Other people's secrets were safe as they could be with another person, but she wanted to learn, to share, to connect. She didn't think she'd be able to keep her mouth shut for most anything.

Jackson shook his head. "Yeah, it'd just be about letting it out in ways that don't make you sound insane, wouldn't it." That was what it would be like for him, anyway. He figured the most frustrating would be when he could solve a case with it, and no one would take his evidence seriously.

At least if he knew he could save a life with it, that saved life would be proof enough.

"Did you manage to learn anything on Asphodel?" Corbie wasn't sure why she was asking. Perhaps she wanted to know if what he'd done had been worth it.

"Not unless you count 'don't fuck with the Ver'," Jackson replied matter of factly. He hadn't even had time to, no.

"I'm sorry," she said. And she meant it, because that was definitely not worth nearly dying for. She kissed his cheek softly and murmured, "I'd ask you not to take a risk like that again, but it wouldn't do me much good, would it?"

Jackson made a skeptical face, and then confirmed, "Probably not." It wasn't as if he'd planned to be executed; and he would probably not plan to get into mortal danger again next time. Or maybe he'd do it consciously, if he had a good enough reason, and good enough odds. Time would tell. Either way, much as he was hoping it would be his last execution, he was also pretty sure it wouldn't be his last time putting himself in danger.

"What about you, darlin'? What'd you get up to on Asphodel, before you had to rush to my rescue?"

Corbie nodded. You fucking idiot.

But she was the one who cared anyway and even as she thought those words they weren't entirely without affection, so who was really the fucking idiot here?

"I was mostly with Illyana finding materials for the library. Didn't exactly feel safe to go exploring on my own." Illyana was terrifying, though, she'd felt plenty safe with her. "Oh, and helping Kitty set up a date for Dorian and Piotr."

"Piotr?" Jackson asked with raised eyebrows. "Isn't he the - metal fellow?" It was difficult to imagine the two of them on a date, and mostly not even on account of their gender. Then again, Jackson had never talked to Piotr, and had very little idea what he was like.

"The giant metal fellow," Corbie agreed. Many people were taller than she was, but she was still amazed that anybody could tower that high over her. "Don't know him well, but they seem to like each other."

Jackson smiled at her addendum; true enough. He wondered what Drake might have made of the man, and his amusement only grew at imagining them interacting. "Well, I'll be sure to ask Dorian about it."

Corbie nodded. She paused a moment before releasing a soft sigh. "I think I'm okay now."

"You wanna grab some pie and join me?" Jackson offered. He still hadn't touched his. An upset Corbie took priority over food, no doubt there.

Re: Jackson & Corbie

st_rikingblueeyes - 2018-03-24 18:20 (UTC) - Expand

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