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"Warm Peach Cobbler"Written By: Gypsie 1201 Pairings: 2+1 Warnings: Fluff, POV Rating: G Archive: www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw/Gypsie/gw_gypsie.htm Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of
its characters, nor will I make any money from the creation of this
story. Feedback: All is welcome and much appreciated. Beta work by Chelle. Summary: Who knew that working at a bakery could be so rewarding. A/N: Written for the GW_Bakery challenge on Livejournal and companion fic to “Fresh Apple Pie”.
"Warm Peach Cobbler " Three days, it really doesn’t seem like a long time and in fact, these last three days haven’t felt like a long time either. And why you might ask? It’s because of my new job. Who would’ve ever thought my time spent in the orphanage’s kitchen would’ve paid off so well. At the time, I just couldn’t wait to finish what I’d been doing so I could get as far away from that perpetually stuffy room and the equally perpetually stuffy nun who served as the cook for the place. And not once did I think that her making me learn to bake would come in handy. I probably still wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for my best friend, Quatre, who, knowing I was getting a bit desperate in the job department, suggested I come with him for breakfast one morning. Now, I’ve heard of the Sugar Shaker, just like every other warm blooded, sugar junky in the city. But I’ve never actually stepped foot in the place. Buying such treats takes money, and I’ve never had any to blow on stuff like that. But since Quat was offering to pay, I really didn’t see any harm in it. Of course, you can imagine my surprise when we arrived and I found Cathy working the counter. Cathy, who just happens to be Trowa’s sister. And Trowa, who just happens to be Quatre’s boyfriend of about five years now. But even that couldn’t have prepared me for the next revelation. You see, after I made my normal greeting and proceeded to ask how long she’d worked there, I was informed that she didn’t just work at the Shaker; she owned it, sharing it jointly with her brother. And all this time, I’d just thought Trowa had a huge sweet tooth, always bringing treats and pies home. But while that was a shock, in the next second I learned that humans can actually imitate deer. Especially when caught in a bright light, or an unexpected situation. “Oh Duo, I’m so glad you’ve agreed to accept Mark’s position.” Cathy exclaimed and I swear my eyes had to’ve been as big as the moon. And for a long moment I could only standing there, my mouth working, but no sounding coming out before finally being able to stutter out a weak request for clarification of what she’d just said. “Now Duo.” Quatre said from my left side, causing my head to snap in his direction. The smile on his face told me that he knew exactly what was going on and had more than likely set it up. “Cathy’s been practically chomping at the bit to have you work here ever since you made that apple pie for dinner last month. And I remember more than once telling you about her offer for a job at her store.” In the back of my mind, I could vaguely remember Quat’s comments concerning the job offer, but I’d always brushed them off, knowing as I did that I couldn’t take advantage of a friendship like that. Besides, I did not want a pity position, no matter how much I needed a job. But as I stood there, looking between Quatre’s pleading eyes and Cathy’s happy smile, I knew I just couldn’t say no. So, that’s how I ended up working the morning shift at the busiest bakery in the city. And that’s where I also get to see the man of my dreams on a daily basis. It was on my first morning that I saw him for the very first time. I’d just placed the freshly baked, peach cobbler in the display case and had turned to go back to the kitchen to start on my apple pies when I’d heard the chime above the door tinkle. On impulse, I’d turned to see who was coming in so early only to find myself staring at the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Deep blue eyes and a head of messy, chocolate brown locks that hung forward over those eyes in a very sexy way. And then there was the rest of him. He was well built, I could tell from the fit of his suit, and I could also tell that he was just a little bit taller than me, something that I’ve found was a major turn on. I would’ve been happy to simply stand there all day and stare at the new arrival, but just as he started across the room toward the counter, I heard Cathy calling for me from the back and with a sigh, I slipped through the door to go see what my boss wanted. After all, it wouldn’t do to get fired on the first day. I didn’t just forget about the handsome stranger though. Instead, as soon as the morning rush had calmed down, I casually asked Cathy about him and found out that he was actually a regular, which sorta made up for not being able to drool all over him that morning. She also told me that he always arrived at the same time every morning and always ordered the warm, peach cobbler before disappearing out the door on his way to work. And while I should’ve seen and recognized the knowing look in her eyes when she told me about my beautiful stranger, I was far to focused on the things she was telling me to see it. And so it was, the very next morning, I made sure I was just putting the cobbler in the display again when he came waltzing through the door. And this time, I allowed myself the time to look at him as he came closer. Unlike the day before though, and much to my disappointment, his eyes were glued to a sheaf paper in his hands, only giving me glimpses of those deep blue eyes, even as he gave Cathy his order and waited for it to be packaged up for him. Then, still without looking away from whatever it was he was reading, he paid and left the bakery, leaving me to wait until the next day to try again to catch his eye. Things hardly ever work out the way I want them to though and when the dark-haired man’s usual time came and went the next morning, this morning to be exact, I really came to believe that Murphy’s a cold-hearted bitch that hates me with a passion. This morning, I’m working with Trowa since Cathy had to run some errands but I don’t mind, Trowa and I get along almost as well at Quatre and I do and besides, when Quatre comes in at his usual time, I know Trowa’ll be spending more time with him than behind the counter. And, of course, I’m too busy waiting on my stranger to pay much attention to him anyways. So, at five fifteen, which according to Cathy is the dark-haired man’s usual time, no earlier and no later, I’m once again just putting the cobbler in the display case. Once that’s done, I just kinda hang around the counter for a few more minutes, waiting for those gorgeous blue eyes to come waltzing through the doors. It’s only when five thirty comes and goes that I really begin to get worried. At five forty-five, I’m a nervous wreck. By this time too, Trowa’s noticed how flighty I’ve become and is drifting into the kitchen every few minutes, trying to keep me together. But he can’t keep coming to the back to reassure me, I know this, so, desperate to find something, anything, to take my mind off him, I start another couple peach cobblers. The apple pies I’d put together earlier are already in the oven and had been for nearly an hour. In no time at all, I’m so absorbed in the crust for the cobblers that when Trowa pops back through the door and asks about the pies at just a little past six, I’m a bit surprised. I wipe my hands and quickly check first the timer and then the oven and tell him they’re done. Then, just as I’m slipping the mitts onto my hands to pull them out of the oven, he drops the bomb. “That’s good because your guy’s here and since there’s no more cobbler, I’ve offered him apple pie.” I instantly freeze at hearing those words and while my heart suddenly feels much lighter, knowing my stranger is all right, my mind wants to know how Trowa knows he’s my guy. I quickly give myself a shake after that though, clearing my thoughts, before pulling the oven door open and grabbing both pies. Then taking another calming breath I head for the door that will take me to where my stranger is. With an easy push of my elbow, I open the swinging door and start across the short distance between it and the case, just as I’ve done several times that morning already. But this time something’s difference and as I hazard a glance toward the cash register, I realize what it is. My stranger is indeed standing there and it takes me by surprise to see those deep blue eyes locked on me. And even as I unconsciously put a bit more sway in my hips because of that much desired attention, I can also feel my heart doing summersaults in my chest. But even as I’m reveling in that heated stare, the negative side of my mind perks up and declares that it’s just the pies he’s looking at. After all, any one who would stop every morning for a piece of cobbler has to have a sweet tooth, right? That argument quickly dies though when, after I’ve place the pies in the case and turned back, those piercing eyes stay with me, watching as I retreat to the kitchen. I’m not sure why I turn back just before passing through the door, why I decide to take a chance. But when my own violet eyes lock with his gorgeous blues, I know it’s got nothing to do with pies and I can’t help the flirty wink I give him before disappearing through the door. For the next several minutes after I’ve felt the door close behind me, I lean back against the wall just to the left and concentrate on calming myself down once again. It really only takes a second or two and once I think I’m ok, I turn back and take a peak through the door. Of course, the Sugar Shaker is now empty except for Quatre and Trowa who are sharing a piece of my pie in one of the corner tables. My dark-haired stranger is no where to be seen. But I know he’ll be back in the morning, so I’m not that disappointed. The rest of the morning after that goes pretty well, I do everything I can to keep myself busy, baking pies, cookies, and various other treats, making sure that we never run very low on anything in the case. And even though it hasn’t been that busy of a day, I’m still relieved when quitting time rolls around. Just as I’m pulling off my apron and twisting my back to give it a good pop though, Trowa passes through the door, heading for the bathroom in the far back. “Hey Duo.” he says as he passes me by. “Could you watch the counter for a moment while I take care of business?” Cathy’s only ever asked me to watch the counter once before, but I know I’m proficient enough at it to handle it for a little while; as long as it’s not too busy that is. So, I say yes and give my hands a good wipe before heading through the door. At first the place is empty, not even Quatre’s hanging around anymore and I allow myself to simply lean against the counter, checking over the display case to see if I need to grab anything from the back. No more than five minutes later, just as I’m contemplating going to see if Trowa has fallen in or something, a customer enters the bakery. Of course, the chime above the door tinkles merrily, instantly drawing my attention and for a moment, I can’t breath. Because there, in the doorway stands my stranger looking just as good as he did this morning. Seeing him there so unexpectedly, leaves me with no idea of what to do. Never once in the past two days since I started working at the bakery has he ever came back for lunch. It’s always been just the one visit early in the morning. But now, here he stands, looking at me from across the room before he starts forward, approaching the counter with a determined look on his face. “Hello.” he says once he’s drawn close, and his deep voice nearly turns my bones to jello. In return, I can only muster a weak hi and an even weaker request for his order. It’s only on a side note, as I’m waiting for him to speak again, that I remember the two peach cobblers I’d made earlier. Because we don’t serve the cobbler except in the mornings, they’re still in the back and thinking that, since he didn’t get any cobbler that morning, he might want I piece, I offer him some. “Actually,” he says in a low voice, looking deep into my eyes even as he leans partway across the counter. The look he’s giving me is like none I’ve ever felt before. “I think I’d rather have another piece of apple pie.” Oh, yes, the next time I see Sister Agnes, I’m definitely giving her a big hug and kiss. END
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