How Green Becomes Wood

"I don't think I'm overthinking it, I think I'm probably giving it the exact same amount of thought he did for me," Daizi argued without frustration, shutting off the faucet, "What does the timer say? It should take awhile, and then it needs to cool upside-down so it doesn't collapse."
 
"You both overthink," Xander said mildly. "You know exactly what to do for him. You just don't know that you know yet because you're worried about perfection. You'll know it the second you think of it. It'll happen."
 
"I'm sure you're right," Daizi agreed, resting against the countertop, "I wonder if we know anyone who knows calligraphy. I can't handwrite much more than my name, but it'd look more personal than if I typed them."
 
"I'll ask him, then, unless you think your aunt has a hidden talent," Daizi teased, although she did plan to ask her friend group and have them ask their friends. He'd appreciate calligraphy.
 
"That's a great idea," Xander agreed. He walked a few steps away and looked out the back toward the garden. The flowers were looking big and bright tonight. It was a beautiful sight.
 
"There's a speakeasy we like, very underground. She'd like it, I bet." Daizi touched her shoulder, feeling the thickness of her sleeve. She'd need to be careful about how she dressed around Ciara until it resolved.
 
"What's a speakeasy? Is that like a poetry club or something? Beat poets?" Xander asked, turning back in time to see her touch her shoulder. He looked away, not wanting to think about it.
 
"It's like a club, but you need to know the password to get in, and the entryway isn't obvious. It'd be a bit ironic bringing a FBI agent to one, because they got started during Prohibition, but they're not illegal anymore. A lot of them become kind of mainstream, but the owner of this one works hard to make sure it really does remain only for people already in the know." Daizi explained to him, unable to see the look on Xander's face.
 
Xander considered this and nodded in satisfaction. "That would be fantastic to take an agent there! I wonder if she'd be able to resist the temptation to break it up for tradition's sake. But how does the owner make any money if no one knows about it."
 
"The owner is actually retired, and made a lot of money when he was younger, so he can more or less afford it just for fun," Daizi explained, "but it's not really that nobody knows about it, only that most people don't. You won't find it searching online, and it's never packed like most bars are, but it's also never empty. Word of mouth does a lot, and it's downtown, which helps."
 
"Ah, that makes sense." Xander paused, looking around the room awkwardly. "Well. I guess that's everything until the cake's done. Guess I'll go do something else until it's ready. It won't be too much longer now."
 
"I'll get you when it's done. I don't mind taking it out and setting it to you to cool." Daizi promised, only minding a little bit that he seemed like he really wanted to get away, because she mostly understood. "We're essentially finished, anyway."
 
"Except for the part where we put even more sugar on it and then eat it," Xander said, a tinge of excitement creeping into his voice. How could he not get excited about cake?
 
"I can make the whipped cream myself, you don't need to worry about that." Daizi assured him and stopped herself from waving Xander off by covering her face and emitting a half-laugh, half-groan, "We said we were going to make Alec clean, then I went ahead and did all of it."
 
"Ah, man, what a missed opportunity," Xander groaned. "Oh well. Maybe you could get him to do the whipped topping, then, and make sure he doesn't eat it all before we can get it on the cake."
 
"I might, it's easy enough. You just pour heavy whipping cream, vanilla, and powdered sugar into a bowl and put it under the stand mixer. And he can do all the clean up after. He asked for this, he should do some of the work." Daizi replied, wondering what Alec was doing at that moment.
 
"Absolutely. I'm going to go find him," Xander announced. He headed upstairs to their room and found Alec working in his sketchbook. "Come on, you. You asked for cake, you gotta do something to earn it," he said, catching Alec's arm and pulling him gently.

"Nooooo," Alec moaned, letting Xander pull him along. "Not work! Not labor! Oh nooooo!"

They headed downstairs where Xander deposited Alec with Daizi. "Found the lost worker!
 
Back
Top