So, between a recommendation from Elke’s therapist and Carson’s admission that he had never learned to cook (the most Jenn Lawson knew how to do in her kitchen was make tea - everything else was why we have a chef on the payroll, dear), they were taking a cooking class. It was a Sunday afternoon, and Carson and Elke (along with, like, five other couples?) were standing in a classroom in the front window of a local fancy-shmancy grocery store where, for fifteen dollars and the price of groceries, a peroxide blonde wearing one too many charm bracelets was going to teach them to make seven vegetable soup and a whole lot of knife skills.
The room was loud with the sound of potatoes and carrots being diced. Carson leaned low over his cutting board and glanced at Elke, who was concentrating very closely on dicing a green onion into impossibly neat and tiny circles. She seemed like she was going to be a natural at cooking, and Carson hoped that was a good sign.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said, low enough that he doubted he’d be overheard, and if he was, not clearly. “I know you warned me about the gang war going on around here? But I - a few nights ago, I was finishing up at work and I think I know what you were talking about now.”
“I can see why you didn’t tell me exactly what’s going on,” he added. “I’m still not sure I believe what I saw.”
Shibrogane
The new therapist was much better than the old one. No psychiatrist recommendations, for one. For another, no pills. She didn’t want pills, or psychiatry, or--any of that. Just concrete solutions to concrete problems, which was why she was standing in a classroom kitchen holding a knife as long as her forearm. For a few minutes, as they learned how not to handle their knives, Elke had envisioned stabbing someone--Hematite--in the gut with it. It’d be satisfying. She’d felt his blood on her hands once before and the only reason it hadn’t been as satisfying as she wanted was because it hadn’t been enough.
Cooking was a little… nerve-wracking, though, and soon enough she was concentrating on slicing, dicing, and peeling. Carson’s unevenly-chopped carrots had an appealing homeyness to them, she thought, clearing her collection of green onion to the side of her cutting board and reaching for the next vegetable. Maybe she ought to loosen up a little. The world wouldn’t end if she didn’t know the exact caloric count of everything in every spoonful.
She stiffened when he spoke about the gang war. “What… what did you see?” She knew it hadn’t been her. Elke didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. But maybe he’d… or maybe he’d spoken to Babylon… or a… “Are you going to break up with me,” she asked, putting her knife down. “I’m not part of that anymore. I told you.”
Cooking was a little… nerve-wracking, though, and soon enough she was concentrating on slicing, dicing, and peeling. Carson’s unevenly-chopped carrots had an appealing homeyness to them, she thought, clearing her collection of green onion to the side of her cutting board and reaching for the next vegetable. Maybe she ought to loosen up a little. The world wouldn’t end if she didn’t know the exact caloric count of everything in every spoonful.
She stiffened when he spoke about the gang war. “What… what did you see?” She knew it hadn’t been her. Elke didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. But maybe he’d… or maybe he’d spoken to Babylon… or a… “Are you going to break up with me,” she asked, putting her knife down. “I’m not part of that anymore. I told you.”
s**t. s**t. He’d upset her. Carson wished he could travel back in time and put a hand over his own mouth and then maybe bring this up at a time when his girlfriend was not holding a knife the length of her her forearm. (Mistakes were made. Regrets were had.) “What?” he asked, because her question was so out of left field. “No. I’m not going to break up with you.”
Honestly, that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Like, offered the choice of breaking up with Elke or having a root canal while fully conscious, he would take the root canal.
Anyway, this seemed like the worst place in the world to ask her about the nature of her phenomenal cosmic powers (which she’d renounced, anyway, not that he fully knew how that worked). So Carson put that tangent off until later and instead said, “I was putting away the riding mower when this dog came running out of nowhere and attacked this - uh - it was like a ball of arms around a nucleus, seriously, I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. These two people in blue showed up and destroyed the thing and advised me to keep my head down.”
“It was like being inside a Men in Black movie,” he shrugged. “Except I asked about the part where they wipe your memory and it turns out they don’t have the tech for that. Is it always like that?”
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Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped again as she started to cut celery. "I don't know," she said. "I was... I was never on that side of things. It's very static, though. Probably it always has been that way." She stubbornly didn't think about Babylon. Telling people to keep their head down didn't seem his style, anyway. "The monsters have always been like that, though. Freakish." She had seen so many. Spiders the size of this room. Acid breathing snakes. Her hands shook.
"They were kind to you," she asked. That was what mattered, not their identities, not anything else. "They didn't... Touch you? Or take anything away from you?"
"They were kind to you," she asked. That was what mattered, not their identities, not anything else. "They didn't... Touch you? Or take anything away from you?"
What side were you on, then? wondered Carson, but didn’t ask - Elke shared things at her own pace, and to ask for anything else jeopardized her health. If she was out of it, then he supposed it didn’t matter - it was in the past. Her hands were shaking, though, and he set down his knife and reached over to - do what, exactly? He wasn’t sure, himself. He put a hand lightly on her forearm and acknowledged to himself how awkward the gesture was.
“No,” he said, frowning slightly. “They didn’t take anything from me.” He’d known one of them, recognized her dog - but if Elke was truly out of this, then he didn’t want to give her reason to get dragged back in. “It’s like you said, they were kind.”
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She quirked her lips at him in something that was meant to resemble a smile and leaned sideways, bumping her shoulder against his arm. “We’re getting behind,” she said. At least the ones who had helped him hadn’t been enemies. She didn’t have her pen anymore, she was just Elke now, she would never have to be Virgo again. Despite her protestations, she didn’t remove his hand from her arm. She put her knife down and slid her fingers under his.
The reel of monsters kept playing in the back of her head, though. And always that face. Hematite, Hematite, Hematite, Chronos looking at her and telling her to run, Hematite, laughing, Scorpio running, and… She turned to Carson and hid her face in his shoulder, knife abandoned, cooking abandoned. “I’ll be alright,” she said. “The onions…”
The reel of monsters kept playing in the back of her head, though. And always that face. Hematite, Hematite, Hematite, Chronos looking at her and telling her to run, Hematite, laughing, Scorpio running, and… She turned to Carson and hid her face in his shoulder, knife abandoned, cooking abandoned. “I’ll be alright,” she said. “The onions…”
“Uh, right,” said Carson, letting her do as she pleased and lean against him. If people were looking at them, it wasn’t too much. Doing his best to work around her, he picked up the knife and started to chop the onions. They weren’t so far behind that they couldn’t catch back up, even if his cuts weren’t nearly as neat as hers. Elke was a natural chef. Carson… did not think he was anywhere close to that.
He scraped the onions into a bowl and set them aside. “You okay?” he asked, setting the knife down and giving her a nudge. He wanted to believe her that it was just the onions bothering her, but he knew he’d gotten them into tricky territory by bringing up that he’d seen a monster, that he’d met knights. (Well, he hadn’t used that word - but he supposed she knew.)
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She stood on her tiptoes, cupped a hand beneath his ear to pull him down and kiss his cheek. “Yes, I’m fine now,” she said, even though it was a lie. “I’m sorry.”
Elke bent her head and concentrated on chopping herbs while Carson filled the pot, emptied cans of stewed tomatoes and put the lid on so it would boil. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” she said, gesturing to the debris of their cooking lesson. “It’s…” It wasn’t that she didn’t like food. She liked to look at it. But eating it was a little beyond her sometimes. Sometimes, she didn’t even want to acknowledge food existed, and it took true effort of will to get the spoon to her mouth.
“Why don’t you tell me something fun,” she said. “Did you go see your brother over the weekend?”
Elke bent her head and concentrated on chopping herbs while Carson filled the pot, emptied cans of stewed tomatoes and put the lid on so it would boil. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” she said, gesturing to the debris of their cooking lesson. “It’s…” It wasn’t that she didn’t like food. She liked to look at it. But eating it was a little beyond her sometimes. Sometimes, she didn’t even want to acknowledge food existed, and it took true effort of will to get the spoon to her mouth.
“Why don’t you tell me something fun,” she said. “Did you go see your brother over the weekend?”
“Right,” nodded Carson. He was sure there would be benefits to these cooking lessons eventually, but the first few sessions were bound to be difficult. Elke had a lot of issues with food that she needed to get a handle on, and he wasn’t going to force anything. So he let his hand rest for a moment at the small of her back and then got to work cleaning up their workstation.
“I did, actually,” he said, glad she had the sense to change the topic even if he didn’t. “I went over to his place for dinner, which I guess is what people do when they’re like, thirty. I don’t know. I’m still getting the hang of this civilian thing. At least I can count on Lou to always be excited to see me.”
He was told it was natural to have a hard time readjusting, so Carson wasn’t particularly worried. Spending time with Elke just came more naturally - with his brother, there was a lot of history that had to hang undiscussed between them. They’d probably be awkward even without Carson’s military service hanging in the air between them.
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Elke smiled just a little, her cheeks dimpling. “I’m glad,” she said. “Family’s important.” A lazy shibboleth. A boring one. Still, an important thing to emphasize: Even if she had abandoned her post, abandoned the Zodiac--there was no crying in senshidom, and no end of contract--she could understand that. Aysel was a help to her, every day, almost every hour. She longed for Carson to have that same sense of unwavering support.
“I’m always excited to see you,” she said, carefully bumping him with her hip. “You brighten my day.” Their relationship was in early days, still. They hadn’t even celebrated their first month anniversary, certainly weren’t to the point of sleeping together or exchanging I love yous. With Avery (who she still sometimes thought she saw on the bus going home) and Grayson, it was natural to tell them she loved them, to sit with them and do nothing besides kiss. But that was before, and this was now, and if she preferred to tuck herself under Carson’s arm and talk to him, or even to sit quietly near him, she doubted he would object.
She hooked her hair behind her ear and checked on the soup, stirring it for something to do with her hands since Carson had taken over the sink. “And your apartment? How is it working out for you?” Elke hadn’t seen it yet. She sort of hoped she would someday.
“I’m always excited to see you,” she said, carefully bumping him with her hip. “You brighten my day.” Their relationship was in early days, still. They hadn’t even celebrated their first month anniversary, certainly weren’t to the point of sleeping together or exchanging I love yous. With Avery (who she still sometimes thought she saw on the bus going home) and Grayson, it was natural to tell them she loved them, to sit with them and do nothing besides kiss. But that was before, and this was now, and if she preferred to tuck herself under Carson’s arm and talk to him, or even to sit quietly near him, she doubted he would object.
She hooked her hair behind her ear and checked on the soup, stirring it for something to do with her hands since Carson had taken over the sink. “And your apartment? How is it working out for you?” Elke hadn’t seen it yet. She sort of hoped she would someday.
Carson nodded. He knew that Elke wasn’t speaking platitudes about family just to fill time, because he could tell how much better off she was when her mother was around. Aysel’s devotion to her daughter was plain to see and he knew Elke didn’t undervalue it. “You brighten my day, too,” he said, beaming down at her. Destiny City was so much nicer when he had someone to spend time with, and while her presence was initially unexpected, he was glad she was here and, increasingly, he couldn’t imagine life any other way.
Or, he could, but he certainly didn’t like to.
“It’s fine,” he said, “it’s small. It’s an apartment.” He glanced down at their station and laughed uncertainly. “This class might have ruined it for me - I didn’t expect to miss having an actual stove, since I haven’t really had one since I joined the Army, but this whole setup is making me question my decision to live with a hot plate and a microwave. I think I might have made a mistake.”
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“That just means you’ll have to come over to mine and have dinner with me,” she said, not a little smug. “We can send you home with leftovers.” There almost certainly would be leftovers if Elke were responsible for eating half the food. She might be on the mend, but there wasn’t much about her that really demanded a high caloric intake.
With a sigh, she wiped one of the hand towels over the cutting board to dry it. “That’s everything, right,” she asked. “All cleaned up?”
With a sigh, she wiped one of the hand towels over the cutting board to dry it. “That’s everything, right,” she asked. “All cleaned up?”
“Yeah,” said Carson, stepping back from the station. He was pretty sure that there was something they were supposed to do for the amount of time the soup was supposed to be boiling, but against all odds they’d finished a bit ahead and the rest of the class was still cleaning up.
“And, you know, any excuse to have dinner with you is an excuse I’ll take, miss Arma.” Was it weird to go to cooking class on a date so that you could flirt with your girlfriend? It was clear they weren’t the only couple here, so Carson didn’t think so, but he also wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about the dating scene or the etiquette contained therein.
At least no one looked annoyed at them. “This is going to be like four nights of dinners,” he said about the soup pot.
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Watching the couples around them, Elke went under the counter to fetch the small soup bowls and salad plates. It looked like the only thing left to do was pay attention to the instructor as she demonstrated how to plate and serve dishes--they weren’t going to be making bread today, that would just be silly in the amount of time they had. “For you, maybe,” she said. She wouldn’t eat bread even if they did make it. Not today. “I’d make it last until it got moldy.”
If she could joke about her condition, that meant she was getting better, right? Right. “Are you going to be terribly offended if I eat only a small portion,” she said.
If she could joke about her condition, that meant she was getting better, right? Right. “Are you going to be terribly offended if I eat only a small portion,” she said.
“No, it’s fine,” said Carson, hoping she’d forgive him if he didn’t laugh. It was good that Elke could take things more lightly, even if he wasn’t sure he was there yet. (It just seemed… inappropriate? They hadn’t been dating long enough for that.) Carson took the soup bowls gently out of her hands and set them out on the counter, then began ladling the soup as instructed.
“You’re feeling okay about this, yeah?” he asked quietly. “We can take it week by week.”
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She nodded. “Week by week is probably best.” Today it was alright. Maybe not next time. She wasn’t prescient by any means. Sometimes she had a hard time picturing where she would be in the next ten minutes. Sometimes she couldn’t picture that at all. Elke leaned over their soup, watching the slow swirl of carrot, potato, and celery.
“You first,” she said.
“You first,” she said.
