Beans on Toast

Posted on Wed Aug 7th, 2024 @ 13:01 by Sarah Bright & Deidre "Dee" Fraser
Edited on on Wed Aug 7th, 2024 @ 13:05

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Dee's Cottage, New Cresthill
Timeline: Saturday, January 23, 1993
5443 words - 10.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Sarah finished her call on the public payphone and picked up her tote bag of groceries before stepping back toward her bicycle. She looped the bag over one of the handlebar grips and walked the bike down the sidewalk, wondering if she should’ve placed another call to Avalon to let them know where she’d be. Obviously it wasn’t going to happen, but still… going against the recently implemented safety protocol weighed on her. Hi, I’m in town, I have a date tonight. Who with is none of your business. Don’t wait up.

Normally Sarah avoided politics whenever she could, but things were starting to get out of hand and really rub her the wrong way, and it wasn’t just the government. Now her fellow faculty members wanted her chaperoned, or at the very least to be provided with an address of where she planned to be. It was an added layer of intrusion that Sarah understood, but didn’t really appreciate. As if dating for people like her wasn’t difficult enough already…

The early evening air was cold and crisp, but thankfully dry and relatively calm for her walk. Sarah hoped it stayed that way. She’d caught a ride into town with one of the local produce suppliers, who wouldn’t take no for an answer upon seeing a young lady dressed to impress and riding her bike alone. Sarah had recognized the farmer as one of the school’s trustworthy allies, and didn’t have to be asked twice. He’d even stepped out to load and unload her bike from the bed of his truck for her. She certainly didn’t expect to get so lucky during her ride back.

In town eyes had followed Sarah wherever she went. Many by now knew of her as an associate the Avalon Institute and reacted accordingly, based on their feelings about the place, but in general most regarded her as someone from out of town who wasn’t fitting in. To be fair, Sarah’s outfit probably had a lot to do with that. Though tastefully vintage and not at all glamorous, Sarah was obviously dolled up for a date, and most definitely not going about it in the manner befitting a local Scottish woman prepared for the depths of winter. No fewer than eight people had shaken their heads at her upon seeing her dressed as she was, walking her bicycle down the street. Yeah well, your good ol’ boys shouldn’t have smashed my fucking car up then. Sarah had wanted to say aloud after the third instance.

The lone exception had been the woman who ran the bakery. Gabriella, she was fairly certain her name was. The baker hadn’t said anything beyond their pleasant transaction, but the smile she gave her left little doubt that she knew. She fucking knew exactly what she was up to. There hadn’t been any judgement, far from it, just an unspoken acknowledgement. Still, Sarah had fled the store with her pane toscano like she’d stolen it.

Even walking down the quiet backstreets in the evening dusk was unsettling. Aside from the occasional automobile there wasn’t a soul on the road with her, yet with everything going on she still felt her spidey sense tingling. She fully expected to see an unmarked van full of jump out boys roll up and nab her off the street. Sarah wasn’t able to begin to relax until she saw the sign for Rose Street. Of course that would be Dee’s street.

The cottages all looked small and quaint, a far cry from the castle Sarah lived in, but they also looked cozy and inviting, and the librarian would not have been above renting one if the Avalon Institute had not provided such convenient accommodations. The smell of cooking was in the air, and Sarah couldn't help but wonder what was in the offering, and how her selection would stack up to the local fare. It seemed she'd spent half the afternoon shopping for tonight's meal, though in actuality she'd only visited a grocery store and the bakery. The smell of cooking and the failing light made Sarah conscious of the growing hour. Her selected meal would probably take 45 minutes to prep and cook. Adding in another fifteen minutes of pleasantries to make it an even hour, Sarah couldn’t help but worry that she’d be making Dee wait overly long for her supper.

---

When Deidre had first made the decision to return to New Cresthill, having some nostalgia for the area despite it being just one of many fleeting childhood memories, one of the things that had swayed her choice was the quite vivid recollection of the storybook residences in the older end of town. Back then, when a beat-up caravan was the only four walls she knew, there had been something exceptionally romantic about the ivy-covered facades and the rows of immaculately-kept roses that accentuated the fence-lines and provided an avenue up to the identical front doors. There were streets where originality hadn't been a priority, where every little cottage looked like the one next door, and she had spent her childhood finding every excuse to wander that way on her way to and from school, daydreaming about the fantastic lives being lived behind heavy drapes. In reality, even back then, some of them likely suffered a bit from the damp and were cold around the ankles due to the draught, and it was almost certain that several had fallen into the initial stages of disrepair that now saw them as abandoned shells on the outskirts. Young eyes had not seen the imperfections, or if they had, had only viewed them as further embellishment to the overall charm of the historical precinct. Returning as an adult had come with the provision that she could find a rental that would finally allow her to step through the veil and into the magical world beyond. As it happened, there had been quite a few options; even that many months ago, the trickle of movement away had started to claim its first ship-jumpers.

Still, as much as the tiny two-bedroom cottage had appeased her inner-child in ways that were deeply, creatively satisfying, Deidre was inclined to admit that it wasn't always an easy property to manage, particularly this time of year. Old plumbing liked to freeze, and the ancient electrical wiring meant that too many appliances running at once was likely to wind up with no appliances running at all until she took the stumble out back in the inevitable darkness to fix the fuse. It made running sufficient heating difficult, which in turn created a constant battle with the damp, and meant that the only truly warm place was in the front sitting room, which she had converted into her main living space-slash-office area for the convenience of the woodfire. As was the case with most of these properties, the cottage was longer than it was wide, with a hallway that lead from the front door, past the sitting room, past the staircase, through another space that currently hosted the dining room table and then into the kitchen and the back area, which sported a toilet and, on the other side, the laundry. The kitchen at least benefitted from a sunny aspect, since the cottage was a corner property without neighbours on that side, though the separate toilet tucked away next to the back entrance boasted the dubious charm of a door that liked to stick and a permanently cracked-open window where half-an-inch of weather-rusted immobility wasn't enough to pose a security risk but meant that you had to really want to go before committing to the challenge. Overall, it wasn't a very big space, but it was lived-in enough that the constant airflow kept the mustiness under control.

It took a similar summoning of courage to head upstairs, which consisted only of the two bedrooms and the full bathroom, all of which failed to capitalise on the principle of hot air rising. Up there was a far less inviting space during the winter, and though she would have been sheepish to admit it, there were times when Dee had simply set up bed on the couch rather than deal with the pervasive chill. It was certainly an area of the house that she never gave much thought to in terms of visitors, which she rarely had at the best of times, and it was only by the saving grace of needing to keep her collection of costumes in the spare room somewhat free from mould that Dee had invested in any kind of portable heating that at least kept that room from turning into a refrigerator. She dreaded to think what her power bill would look like at the end of the quarter but such was the cost of following one's dreams sometimes. It wasn't a perfect house but it suited her just fine; or at least it had until she'd tried to turn it into a fitting setting for a date.

She had swung back and forth countless times over the use of that term to describe Sarah's visit, battling with a desire to avoid embarrassing herself with misconception and also leaving the usual amount emotional recovery space should the entire thing prove to be a disappointment, at least on behalf of her guest. At the very least, Dee had allowed herself to settle on, this was something well-beyond any kind of work-related arrangement, which meant that preparing her wee little cottage, with all its quirks and imperfections, to at least attempt to be somewhat inviting was a worthy focus of her entire day. The task had quickly overwhelmed her and there had been several hours of rather chaotic bouncing between decluttering the sitting room, which would need to host at least some of the evening purely to avoid frostbite, and scrubbing the bathroom and kitchen to within an inch of actually removing wallpaper. By far the greatest challenge had been relocating her impressive library, which technically lived on shelves in the sitting room but actually exceeded their capacity by enough that piles often appeared around the place. Her first instinct had been to just shove it all into her bedroom and close the door, but the flutter of a moment of horrified realisation had presented the possibility that perhaps a bedroom would be required, in which case she was still toying up whether or not to just pass off the spare room as her own. It did have a bed in it, though it was primarily her sewing room now. That calamity had then brought her to the matter of her outfit for the evening, by which point Deidre had decided to run a bath so that she could at least have her emotional breakdown in comfort.

Eventually, time had got the better of her and there just wasn't enough of it left to find new things to panic about. After a degree of indecision, Deidre had closed the door on the wardrobe that housed all her creations and went instead into her actual bedroom, where the clothing on offer, whilst still sometimes self-created, was far more reflective of a style still actively relevant and certainly more comfortable for an evening in. It had occurred to her that Sarah had never seen her out of costume, and it felt important to establish that, as much as she loved that aspect of her work and the opportunities it presented, she did have a practical side. The velvet crop-jacket was her own handiwork, a deep shade of green that suited her complexion. The black mock neck-sweater underneath had nearly been a cream one until visions of wearing dinner in a fit of clumsiness had prompted a more cautious selection. The bottom half had caused her the most indecision but no combination of skirt and tights felt warm enough to remain comfortable and so the oversized flared jeans over chunky boots look had won. It was a style so far removed from the immaculate lines of her costume pieces that Dee had often managed to go completely unrecognised by people who interacted with her enough to know better. She worried that it was too casual but a knock on the door had left her only enough time to throw the discarded options in a puddle at the bottom of her wardrobe before locking it and fleeing down the stairs. The time for second-guessing everything was over.

"One second!," she called, struggling as always with the locks that would allow her to open the front door. The rattle of a chain suggested that the most problematic was the door guard, but once that had cooperated, the door swung open easily enough. That in itself was a relief, nothing in the house liked to open and shut with any sort of reliable consistency. Already flustered from the effort, Dee stood for a moment after her initial, "Hi there, you made it," and then seemed to startled as she realised she was standing in the way. "Come in."

Once Sarah had found the right street, locating Dee's particular cottage had been easy enough. There was still enough light to read the house numbers, and Dee had provided some basic details on what made her home stand out from the rest, like it being on a corner lot. The last real concern before approaching the door was where to park her bicycle. Thankfully there was a conveniently placed shrub that offered just enough coverage, and just enough space between it and the cottage for her to neatly tuck it in. Sarah stepped back, and reasoned that in the failing light a would-be thief would have to be walking around the foundation of Dee's house with a flashlight to even notice it there.

All of Sarah's little worries that had accumulated while preparing for her date paled before the last real concern, arriving at Dee's doorstep and actually being welcomed inside. The reporter could've changed into a whole other person during her own preparations for their date, and of course there was always the chance of her getting cold feet. That did happen sometimes. When the door opened, it if did open, Sarah was usually pretty good at sensing if the vibe had changed. And when the door did open, for a bare moment Sarah''s fears tricked her into considering that it might have, but then Dee stepped aside and welcomed her in.

"Hi Deidre! I did." Sarah said, offering a smile significantly warmer than the cold air trying to come inside with her. She quickly stepped inside and out of the way so that Dee could close the door. She noticed a conveniently placed coat rack, and busied herself with setting down her groceries and taking off her gloves, scarf and pea coat. She left her knit beanie in place on her head for the moment, partly because she feared what her hair would look like after taking off, but mostly because she thought it looked cute with her outfit.

For once it was Sarah's turn to go vintage, though she hadn't dove so deeply far back in the century as Dee had during their previous encounters. Put simply, she perfectly channeled mid-century sweetheart, as seen though a black and white television screen. Her outfit was pure contrast, with a cozy, cream cardigan unbuttoned and layered over a black peter pan collar dress, sporting a white collar and a short, pleated skirt. The dress, though it fit, was short even for a petite size, and was more than likely a larger girls' size--the price to pay for thrift-store fashion. Her knit beanie was almost a similar shade of cream as the cardigan, which draped almost the full length of her dress. Opaque white tights and black and white saddle shoes completed the monochrome outfit. In afterthought, the tights had likely been the focus of the many ridiculed stares Sarah had received in town, as they were generally considered a fashion crime for girls over the age of fifteen. But they were Sarah's favorite color of tights to wear, even if they made all but the skinniest of legs look chubby.

After stowing her coat and smoothing out her cardigan and dress Sarah had wanted to move back toward Dee, and maybe a offer a hug or dare to sneak in a quick kiss on the cheek, but instead she stayed in place and merely swept around, taking a moment to appreciate Dee from a distance, while of course giving Dee an opportunity to do the same. In most other circumstances she always fought the urge to pose, as they always felt awkwardly bad. This one, however, felt both coquettish and natural. a rare mix... for her anyway. Still, her fingering the button bands of her cardigan close, as if considering buttoning the garment up for warmth, probably gave off the impression that Sarah was cold, instead of her simply trying to highlight her modest curves.

Sarah said nothing for a moment. Even though she did think Dee looked really pretty, she was going to try to time her compliments for maximum strategic impact. This was one of her favorite parts of the first date, especially at her date's place. She smiled to convey eagerness and anticipation, but there was some genuine nervousness sprinkled in too. When she brought a lady home the first thing she did was to try to make her date's comfort the number one priority. To be fair Sarah wasn't truly expecting that here, considering she'd practically invited herself over, but she'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't just a little giddy to see Dee how would host.

It took every last ounce of willpower to avoid scrutinising Sarah's outfit from a seamstress' point of view. It was darling, that much was self-evident, and indicative enough of a personal style that Deidre almost regretted not delving into her own creations for the evening. They probably would have looked silly together, she decided, having no firm reference point for when that had suddenly elevated to the realms of cardinal sin. The ensemble looked worthy of imitation, at least, and Dee had to force herself to avoid the temptation to plot a matching duplicate, as if dressing like identical twins was somehow better. I could offer to make her more. Or anything at all really, the notion of being able to share her hobby seemed such a natural way to spend time together that Deidre was struck mute for a moment by the importance suddenly placed on creating a next time when she hadn't survived this one yet. With a barely visible shudder, her thoughts bounced back to the present and the startled vacancy vanished behind a warm smile that accompanied an outstretched hand.

"Need help carrying anything? There's plenty of room in the fridge if you need to store things." Then, because it seemed odd to so blithely anticipate an entire meal cooked in her honour, Deidre added, "We can start whenever you want, I'll put my best vegetable peeler to the test. Would you like to see the house first though?" Here, her voice wavered a little, betraying the breathlessness of pent-up nerves.

Sarah had not known what kind of reaction to expect from Deidre, and in truth her intent had not been to elicit any one in particular. After all, the reporter was, in Sarah's eyes, the coolest cucumber in town. She'd just wanted to show up at her door wearing something cute, and not just another clone of what she always wore. Dark Academia might be her preferred fashion- and lifestyle, but it wasn't always a hit on a lesbian dating scene. With all that in mind Sarah certainly hadn't been expecting googly-eyes or drool, but in truth she had been hoping for something a bit more favorable than a vacant stare followed by shuddering.

Sarah's body squirmed awkwardly for a moment, sending her skirt aswirl with nerves as her mind floundered for an explanation. Sure, the librarian was half-convinced that her new paramour just might be an inter-dimensional traveler who was still adjusting to this space and time, but that explanation lay a bit too far off the edge of Occam's Razor even for her. She then glanced down, as if she'd find the answer there. Oh. She thought, seeing that she'd found it. Her tights. Maybe white hadn't been such a great choice. She should've gone with black ones... even if they would've made her look like Wednesday Addams.

Thankfully Dee's warm smile saved Sarah from herself. She rushed forward and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She decided to keep it for the moment. "I'd love a tour. And don't worry about the groceries. They're already colder than your fridge, and they'll be better off warming to room temperature.

"Come through anyway, we'll find a place for them."

Leading the way past the staircase, along a narrow passage that was really only wide enough for one-way foot-traffic, Deidre took the opportunity whilst facing the other way to pull herself together. Gawping wasn't a very good first impression, even if this didn't strictly count as such, and she hadn't missed that tiny flicker of awkwardness in Sarah's posture even if she didn't know quite what to make of it. Gone was the obliviousness of their previous interactions, where Dee had been so thoroughly engrossed in the purpose behind their conversation that there hadn't been time to worry about personal opinions. Her capacity to hyper-focus extended to almost anything and, right now, the woman trailing behind her held the bulk of her anticipation.

"It's not a very big place," she heard herself fussing, stepping into the small room just before the kitchen where the small circular dining table sat opposite a day-bed that hugged the left-hand wall. The hutch tucked away behind the door on the same wall had been clearly tidied to within an inch of its original grandeur, though several faint coffee-stains spoke of the absent-mindedness of early morning. With no neighbours along that side of the house, the room normally caught the best of the morning sun and Deidre hadn't completely packed away her second-best typewriter, leaving it instead tucked into the corner where it wasn't a tripping hazard at least. "We can eat in here tonight if you want, though there is a smaller table in the sitting room where we'd be closer to the fire." Gnawing anxiously on her bottom lip, Dee fidgeted to the side of the open archway that lead to the kitchen and felt her cheeks flush as direct eye contact proved bolder than originally intended. First impulse was to remark on how pretty Sarah looked, and how much she loved the ensemble she'd put together, but nerves lead to the safer path of continued practicality. "And this is the kitchen."

"I love it." Sarah murmured in a quiet tone as she followed Dee, still holding onto her hand as she was led through the cottage. She couldn't argue with her about the size, but it was very cozy, and had a warmth to it that had nothing to do with room temperature. It was a night and day contrast to her apartment condo back in Boston, which felt roomier, yet impersonal with its contemporary minimalist decor. When they paused in the dining-slash-guestroom Sarah briefly set down the bag of groceries and deftly un-shouldered her messenger bag, letting it plop down next to the daybed. She'd packed the some basic date-night essentials, like a backup outfit and shoes. A long sleeve tee and jeggings would be better suited for the bike ride home later, if she couldn't convince Dee to let her crash on the daybed, or for something to wear in the morning if she could. The pair of plain black ballet flats she'd stuffed in were not very comfortable for everyday wear, but they took very little space, and were there in case the weather had changed and she showed up to Dee's with muddy shoes. There were a few other things she'd brought with her, but for now she left the bag closed and focused on getting set up for dinner.

"I'm fine to eat wherever. I'm comfortable enough now, and I imagine we'll have brought some warmth from the kitchen with us when we're ready to eat." Sarah said before following Dee to what appeared to be the final stop on her nickel tour. She suddenly found herself in much closer proximity to Dee as they stood in the archway, now making eye contact. She could've sworn she caught a faint whiff of patchouli off of Dee's velvet jacket, but it could've just been her imagination. She was very tempted to just hug Dee right then and there, but she was still holding on to her hand, and of course had her bag of groceries in the other. Probably for the best. A hug too soon might make things awkward moving forward, or... well, they might never get around to having dinner. Sarah felt comfortable and at ease with her surroundings, and she hoped she was able to convey that with her gaze alone, as for the moment the words just weren't there. She'd barely come prepared to comment on Dee's outfit, let alone her furniture or decor. This was usually the time all her initiative in asking for a date, preparing for it, and then actually showing up for it started to fade, leaving her feeling adrift, often with an unfamiliar person in a sometimes equally unfamiliar place.

In short, Sarah needed an icebreaker to refocus. Thankfully she'd come prepared.

"These are for you, Deidre." Sarah said, only looking away for a moment as she lowered the bag of groceries and retrieved the small bundle on top. It was a wrapped paper plate of cookies, Valjean's chocolate chip cookies, to be precise. He made them quite often, but Sarah had counted it a miracle that she'd been able to secure a whole plate; if the students didn't devour them on sight, Cameron would quickly ensure they disappeared. That man was not to be trusted around cookies. On top of the plate was a small nosegay of local wildflowers--crocus, wild pansies and winter heather. She'd searched the castle surrounds and had been pleasantly surprised to find that there were indeed flowers to be found blooming in the highlands even in winter, if one took the time to look around.

It was a gesture of such magnitude that Dee could only stare, stunned, at the plate she now held for the few brief seconds it took to regather her wits. The gift itself was significant enough, if you counted the potential for Sarah to somehow have found out about her host's incessant sweet tooth, and the care taken to garnish it with pretty blooms was heart-warming to say the least. The part that was most startling was the act of giving itself because Deidre honestly could not remember the last time she'd received anything that hadn't been ordered by her own hand. She'd fallen out of the way of expectations in that regard a long time ago, her mother's sporadic nature didn't lend itself well to keeping track of time and her financial struggles wouldn't have allowed much by way of celebration even if she had remembered her daughter's birthday. Christmas had been slightly less disappointing but only from the point of view that the entire festive season tended to instil a sense of wonder and anticipation that even a starry-eyed misfit couldn't help but get swept up in. Her mother loved an excuse to decorate, and Dee had set her feet on the path of fashion design by teaching herself to knit in order to make the pair of them something warm for under whatever makeshift tree they'd cobbled together. There had always been something a little bit different about the Christmas meal too, and though most children would have felt entirely incensed at Father Christmas' lack of consideration, Dee had never lost her ability to find the speck of happiness amidst the gloom. Presents, however, the type that arrived as the result of another person's investment in speculative appreciation, had been few and far between.

After the initial seconds passed, her expression relaxed into a smile of genuine, radiating warmth.

"You didn't have to do that," she protested weakly, and mostly only because it seemed important to convey a lack of expectation. "Though they do look delicious." Balancing the plate on one hand, Dee plucked a nosegay from atop the pile and reached across to tuck it behind Sarah's ear. "Thank you. Honestly, just having you here is more than enough." The boldness behind her eye contact faltered a bit as Dee admitted, "I don't get many visitors, certainly none that would go to so much trouble." Her brow flickered and Deidre went searching for the same ease and comfort she recalled the first night they'd met, over hot chocolate in the midst of Sarah's Vaudeville act. She'd been distracted during her trip to the castle, which only seemed obvious now that it was over and she could reflect back on the amount of times she'd clearly been too swept up in her own thoughts to pay her guide the attention she deserved. Of the two opportunities, the latter was not the energy she wanted to channel right now. "I'm really glad you're here."

Sarah almost melted into a puddle when Dee's smile warmed the room. Okay, well, maybe it just warmed her, but she still felt her knees go weak. She instinctively flexed them a bit, first one, then the other, which made her appear just a tad... bouncy. It was thankfully a good look for her as far as poses went, and won her a flowery prize tucked in behind her ear. The look on Dee's face, and the look that had to be on her face... she wanted to reach for what she'd left in her messenger bag, but it was now just a few steps out of reach and she still didn't want to let go of Dee's hand. Ugh. It could wait, even if now seemed like the perfect time. But maybe an hour from now would be an even better time? Sarah was feeling optimistic.

"I'm glad you're here, too." Sarah intentionally let slip the gaffe that reminded her of their initially awkward phone conversation a day before. Plus she felt it couldn't hurt dialing the cheese factor up one notch. Before she could talk her self out of it, she leaned forward and gently booped Dee's nose with her own, giving her the faintest bunny kiss.

"And its no trouble at all." Sarah said after stepping back toward her groceries. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." She added, scrunching her nose slightly for dramatic effect. "Except maybe Hawaii... but only if you were there too, of course." She smiled coyly as she took an additional step back, letting her hand slip from Dee's as if she was now playing hard to get. She wasn't of course, she very much considered this a beginner's level date as far as her own experiences went, but at some point she had to find the guts to turn away from Dee's beautiful smile so that she could busy herself with now seemingly less-appetizing task of preparing dinner.

"Care for a drink while we get started?" Sarah said as she produced a bottle of pinot noir from her tote next and handed it to Dee. It was not an expensive bottle by any means, but was at least a step up from boxed wine. Nonetheless, she offered it over for inspection like a waiter in some fancy restaurant. By 'we' Sarah had definitely meant the royal we, but she was too concerned with trying to be a charmer that she failed to realize she may have just conscripted her host into participating in the night's upcoming dinner disaster.

Wine. God, yes.

For someone who didn't often drink, the relief might have been a concern but Deidre welcomed the prospect of a little liquid courage. Admiring the label, as if any of the information on it meant a thing to her, she then turned to make her way into the kitchen.

"I'll grab us some glasses."