entranceway | o8 | what more am I owed than certain death

[Annie appears onscreen, looking anything but her chipper self. Seems that's more and more common, these days, especially after things like disgusting zombies. She'd kept her own and managed to make it to the farmhouse on the second day, and stayed there for the remainder of the event, helping people who managed to get there as well. It wasn't until the event was over that she realized that they were well into fall, and that Christmas must be coming up soon, and if Christmas is coming, that means Hanukkah's here, or...that it already passed.

And, okay, yeah, she doesn't have like, the best relationship with her parents anymore, but it's still a special holiday for her! And she could've had a sweet little ceremony each night and lit the candles and made matzoh ball soup in the kitchen and shared it!! But no, instead she was killing zombies and hiding in a farmhouse. Seriously.

So, she can be found in the diner, her crafting supplies spread out in front of her in a booth in the back. Currently, she's pouring glitter over a set of folded up pieces of paper-- Christmas cards. She missed one holiday, she's not going to miss another.]

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[Oh, sweet relief. It's not the entire resolution, but it's enough of one to get John smiling again. He spent a lot of time on that coupon book, which is part of the gift itself, considering the three revisions that came before it.

He feels pretty awful for not thinking about it the consequences at the time, feels like he's neglected to even get to know Annie as well as he could. Near as he can figure, though, this can help. This will help.]

So, what d'you say we give one a try? That'll be my only stipulation. Gotta use one now.

[He'll have none of that keepsake, saving for posterity crap, lady. These are meant to be used.]

[Her smile only widens at the sight of his, because yeah, that's a lot better. Him smiling and not looking painfully awkward. She prefers that.

She looks down at the booklet when suggests it, and her mouth twists in concentration.]

Right now? You're kind of putting me on the spot...

[But she picks up a regular marker anyway and writes plate of latkes in the blank. She gets her scissors and carefully cuts along his dotted line, sliding the paper over when she can. She doubts Tohru knows how to make latkes, but that's not a big deal, right? He can just ask a closet or something.]

[He doesn't look at the writing right away, but he takes up the paper and holds it carefully in his hands. When it comes to Annie, he knows he prefers when they can be more like this. She's sweet, she's smart, and it's his fault that things get so awkward, he realizes.

Before he reads, he tips his head and just watches her for a second. Annie's pretty amazing. She's almost always cheerful, almost always doing for others, and how much has she done for him? He's probably lost count by now.

His eyes focus on the paper.]

Potato pancakes? [Huh.] My specialty. [Or close enough.]

Give me, what? Thirty minutes? [Because he'll still like some time to prepare. Blake stands.] Thirty minutes, one plate of latkes. Challenge accepted.

[It's kinda weird, when he stares like that, like he's trying to figure her out. She's had guys look at her before, sure, because she knows she has big boobs and a nice smile, but when John looks at her like that it's different. Exhilarating and terrifying all at once. She hopes he doesn't stop, but she knows, realistically, at some point he will. That's just how things go, right?

Besides, they're just friends. He's just a nice guy and they're friends. Friends always want to know more about each other and it's fine. Whatever. She just smiles at him when he stands, and nods. Whether or not it's really his specialty, she has no idea, but she wants to see him try.]

Sure. See you in half an hour.

[John Blake really does have a bad habit of seeing through people. Or not seeing them at all. For him, it's hard to find a middle ground, hard to know what he should take and what he should ignore. In any case, he likes Annie, likes her values, likes that she's a cool chick and that she hasn't run for the hills because John's impossible to deal with.

(It also helps that she's really cute. John often thinks that if he were to pick anyone to have his babies, it'd probably be Annie, for no other reason, than he believes their children would be gorgeous. Call it self-centered, but hey, John never claimed to be perfect.)

When he returns, it's almost exactly in the time promised. The plate of latkes ends up in front of Edison, presented piping hot and served with a side of sour cream dotted with chives.]

Ta-da. [He grins a little, mostly pleased with himself.] Got a coupon-back guarantee, too. Don't like 'em, we'll pretend it never happened. [A pause.] Well, sorta. Think you'll always 'member the taste if they're that bad.

[He's not an eager puppy over food, noooooooo.]

[Annie busies herself making more cards in his absence, and by the time he returns and plops the plate in front of her, she's nearly forgotten that she asked him to in the first place. She blinks and then smiles, looking up at John.

And yeah, it's super cute how eager he looks, but she can just keep that to herself.]

Guess I'll just have to see, [she says with a grin, moving her cards to the side to pick up a fork. It hovers over the plate for a moment before she dives in, cutting a piece off and bringing it up to her mouth.

She can admit it; she's a little nervous. It's been a long time since she's had really good latkes-- it's the one thing she can't seem to recreate in the kitchen or closets-- and she also doesn't want to let John down. Not when they're just starting to be less weird.

Thankfully, none of that will be a problem.]

Oh my god.

[She doesn't mean to talk with her mouth full, okay? She brings her hand to cover as she chews and swallows, looking up to John with wide eyes.]

Where did you even learn to cook like that?

[He's particularly pleased in a way Blake doesn't often show, but as he watches her, there's an undeniable joy at seeing the look on her face. He doesn't even bother to ask, just gestures in such a way to suggest he'd like to try some, too.]

Like that? Dunno, just time I guess. Practice. They're good, then?

[It's obvious they are, but every once in a while he doesn't mind his feathers stroked, especially about cooking (a somewhat guilty pleasure considering he lived alone for so long and often indulged himself for that fact alone).]

[She nods, handing the fork over-- and taking only a brief second to freak out over the fact that he wants to share her fork, oh my god-- and sighing.]

So good. Much better than I could ever make myself.

[She pauses, laughing.]

Maybe I'll just use up all of the coupons on plates of latkes.

[Yeah, oh yeah, they're sharing a fork. It's not a big deal, right? I mean, it's not like they're kissing or anything like that.

Blake's silent as he takes a bite. When he chews, it's politely, with that fork still hovering near his mouth. He nods slowly and his eyes slide closed at the mix of flavors.]

Mm. Yeah, wouldn't mind makin' these more often. Don't gotta even worry 'bout the coupons. Make 'em any time you want, just gotta say.

[If nothing else, Blake's always trying to feed a person, much like an ancient grandma. He offers the fork back to Edison and then wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Classy.]

[She laughs, because it's a sweet offer, though she doesn't take it too seriously. In a place like this, you can't take much seriously, you know?]

I'll be sure to remember that.

[She grabs the booklet then and puts it in her craft box. Wouldn't want to lose something valuable like that, right?]

[How you've made his day, Annie. Blake smiles and props his chin on his hand briefly.]

So, we're good? Or one-nineteenth of the way there, at least?

[She smiles at him, soft, touched by how he seems so adamant to fix whatever's wrong. Except Annie didn't really know there was anything wrong specifically, but whatever. She can roll with it. She's not going to look a gift Blake in the mouth. (Or is she...)]

Definitely.

o8 | what more am I owed than certain death | open action/accidental video;

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