XF Holiday: Breakfast
Dec. 22nd, 2022 02:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_changeling posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsKevin meets up with Amanda at the breakfast buffet.
“Let’s see… a piece of papaya, some mango, ooh, can’t leave these strawberries…” The aforementioned fruit landed on the plate Amanda was holding as she made her way through the breakfast/brunch buffet. She had two plates balanced expertly in one hand, one for fruit and pastry, the other for savory and fried. No sense mixing the food groups, after all. “A croissant… hmm. Eggs are a bit on the cold side, maybe I can just fill up the plate with bacon and hash browns…”
“You need to steal a waiter’s tray, Sefton. What do they call it now? Lifehack the buffet?” Kevin said, passing her with a plate of his own. It was mounded by pastries currently, in every colour of the rainbow.
Amanda barely started. While she’d thought she was on her own, Kevin’s “sudden” appearance was par for the course. It was Kevin, after all. “Not a bad idea, Sydney,” she replied. “I see you’re going for the carb load today.”
“This is the coffee plate. He said, pausing to fill his cup from the urn before taking a table. “Remember, I come from an era where every sweet was designed to be eaten with a cup of Joe.” He dunked the end of a chocolate croissant into his cup before eating it in one bite.
“Coffee cake was the bane of my existence. Every card game, every meeting, every Tupperware party… a fucking coffee cake in the middle.”
“What was the problem? The coffee, the cake or just the sheer repetition?” Amanda asked as she set her plates down on the same table before going to get a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea.
“It was always the same recipe. That terrible crumble on top.” Kevin said. “When I was first sent to France, every morning, my handler would send me to pick up fresh pain au chocolate from the boulangère along with coffee and hot chocolate. And when I tried them, I realized I had no idea what chocolate really was before then. The coffee cake was like going back to those days.” He said. “Although these were not prepped by a French baker either.”
“Really not,” Amanda agreed, setting her juice and tea down before taking a seat. “One of the downsides of being able to tune into cities – I know crap food when I eat it.” To punctuate her point, she bit into the croissant. “Doesn’t mean I don’t stop eating it, mind. The Bottomless Pit needs filling, after all,” she continued, a tad indistinctly while she chewed and swallowed. “I’m guessing your powers tend to need a lot of fuelling as well?”
“Yes and no. I’m incredibly efficient, which means I can survive on almost nothing for ages. But the more I push, the more energy I eventually need to recover.” Even the grape jelly couldn’t save his creampuff, and he scarfed it down just to get it off the plate. “Time for a real meal. How’s the bacon?”
“Strangely good. They must have a Canadian on the kitchen staff,” Amanda replied, generously pushing her plate in his direction while she occupied herself with the fruit and pastry. “It’s that really crispy stuff that you can eat by the handful.”
“Sounds good.” He got up, went over, and filled his plate with largely greasy pork products and a dollop of the lukewarm eggs in the middle. “This is not like the English breakfasts you’re used to, I’d wager.”
Amanda laughed. “Um, yeah, not by half. Too much healthy stuff, for a start.” She gestured at the yoghurt and granola at the end of the buffet table. “Also, we know better than to let things go cold. Mostly ‘cause they’d congeal if they did.” She finished the croissant and continued. “Then again, a proper fry-up is one of the few things I can actually cook, so I might be biased.”
“I remember the first time Chris Kane showed me a proper English breakfast. Little greasy spoon about two blocks away from Tower Bridge. I’m dealing with black pudding, beans in tomato sauce, grilled tomato and rubbery bacon for the first time. I thought it was a prank.”
“Kane? As in Gar’s dad?” Amanda washed down the inclination to choke in surprise with a gulp of juice. “Why am I not surprised you know him. You were CIA buddies?”
“Christian? He was always MI6. They paired us up for a few years in the late 50s. He was a wet behind the ears rookie and I was an operator. Used him to grind some of the rough edges off me and for me to score some rough edges in him.”
“Wait, you trained him?” Sometimes Amanda forgot just how old Kevin was. She shook her head. “Never mind that. So you didn’t get to mess around with the Masters of Evil and all that – or was that just in our universe?”
“Don’t know about the Masters of Evil but Chris and I had our share of adventures.” Kevin said. “That’s how I ended up with you lot. Chris said you needed help and asked me to pitch in.”
“Well, he’s given us worse presents,” was Amanda’s reply as she finished off the fruit/pasty plate and reached for the other one. “So, what sort of adventures are we talking about here?”
“Let’s see… a piece of papaya, some mango, ooh, can’t leave these strawberries…” The aforementioned fruit landed on the plate Amanda was holding as she made her way through the breakfast/brunch buffet. She had two plates balanced expertly in one hand, one for fruit and pastry, the other for savory and fried. No sense mixing the food groups, after all. “A croissant… hmm. Eggs are a bit on the cold side, maybe I can just fill up the plate with bacon and hash browns…”
“You need to steal a waiter’s tray, Sefton. What do they call it now? Lifehack the buffet?” Kevin said, passing her with a plate of his own. It was mounded by pastries currently, in every colour of the rainbow.
Amanda barely started. While she’d thought she was on her own, Kevin’s “sudden” appearance was par for the course. It was Kevin, after all. “Not a bad idea, Sydney,” she replied. “I see you’re going for the carb load today.”
“This is the coffee plate. He said, pausing to fill his cup from the urn before taking a table. “Remember, I come from an era where every sweet was designed to be eaten with a cup of Joe.” He dunked the end of a chocolate croissant into his cup before eating it in one bite.
“Coffee cake was the bane of my existence. Every card game, every meeting, every Tupperware party… a fucking coffee cake in the middle.”
“What was the problem? The coffee, the cake or just the sheer repetition?” Amanda asked as she set her plates down on the same table before going to get a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea.
“It was always the same recipe. That terrible crumble on top.” Kevin said. “When I was first sent to France, every morning, my handler would send me to pick up fresh pain au chocolate from the boulangère along with coffee and hot chocolate. And when I tried them, I realized I had no idea what chocolate really was before then. The coffee cake was like going back to those days.” He said. “Although these were not prepped by a French baker either.”
“Really not,” Amanda agreed, setting her juice and tea down before taking a seat. “One of the downsides of being able to tune into cities – I know crap food when I eat it.” To punctuate her point, she bit into the croissant. “Doesn’t mean I don’t stop eating it, mind. The Bottomless Pit needs filling, after all,” she continued, a tad indistinctly while she chewed and swallowed. “I’m guessing your powers tend to need a lot of fuelling as well?”
“Yes and no. I’m incredibly efficient, which means I can survive on almost nothing for ages. But the more I push, the more energy I eventually need to recover.” Even the grape jelly couldn’t save his creampuff, and he scarfed it down just to get it off the plate. “Time for a real meal. How’s the bacon?”
“Strangely good. They must have a Canadian on the kitchen staff,” Amanda replied, generously pushing her plate in his direction while she occupied herself with the fruit and pastry. “It’s that really crispy stuff that you can eat by the handful.”
“Sounds good.” He got up, went over, and filled his plate with largely greasy pork products and a dollop of the lukewarm eggs in the middle. “This is not like the English breakfasts you’re used to, I’d wager.”
Amanda laughed. “Um, yeah, not by half. Too much healthy stuff, for a start.” She gestured at the yoghurt and granola at the end of the buffet table. “Also, we know better than to let things go cold. Mostly ‘cause they’d congeal if they did.” She finished the croissant and continued. “Then again, a proper fry-up is one of the few things I can actually cook, so I might be biased.”
“I remember the first time Chris Kane showed me a proper English breakfast. Little greasy spoon about two blocks away from Tower Bridge. I’m dealing with black pudding, beans in tomato sauce, grilled tomato and rubbery bacon for the first time. I thought it was a prank.”
“Kane? As in Gar’s dad?” Amanda washed down the inclination to choke in surprise with a gulp of juice. “Why am I not surprised you know him. You were CIA buddies?”
“Christian? He was always MI6. They paired us up for a few years in the late 50s. He was a wet behind the ears rookie and I was an operator. Used him to grind some of the rough edges off me and for me to score some rough edges in him.”
“Wait, you trained him?” Sometimes Amanda forgot just how old Kevin was. She shook her head. “Never mind that. So you didn’t get to mess around with the Masters of Evil and all that – or was that just in our universe?”
“Don’t know about the Masters of Evil but Chris and I had our share of adventures.” Kevin said. “That’s how I ended up with you lot. Chris said you needed help and asked me to pitch in.”
“Well, he’s given us worse presents,” was Amanda’s reply as she finished off the fruit/pasty plate and reached for the other one. “So, what sort of adventures are we talking about here?”
