Duncan Darling 😻 Luke Skywalker (rescueyou) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-01-11 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * terri, c: dorothy darling, c: duncan darling |
WHO: Duncan Kane & Dottie Darling
WHEN: December 31, 2018
WHERE: Dunhaven Hotel
SUMMARY: Sneaking away from the NYE Shindig, Duncan and Dottie make a culinary connection.
WARNINGS: Ridiculous adorableness? Also pudding.
Duncan had worked this event as a bartender for several years, but this time he walked in as a patron. His suit jacket was quickly discarded at the coat check desk, and his free drink ticket was given away to someone -- Dottie was unused to attending parties alone, having always been part of a duo if not a triple threat. It was her choice to stay behind in Dunhaven while her sisters and their respective partners traveled to New York City for the holiday. She hadn’t wanted to intrude on their time together. Though they were always inclusive with her, Dottie knew that on something like New Years Eve, they would probably have more fun without extraneous company. She had dressed appropriate to the theme, she thought, sporting her teal dress and magenta shoes. A number of bracelets beaded her wrists, and her hair had been pinned back just so, enough to display her earrings that bore her favorite feline’s face. Pulling the corner of her lip between her teeth, Dottie surveyed the dessert table before her with all its bite sized delights and hefty slices of cakes. Spotting a somewhat familiar face, though they’d never been properly introduced in person, Dottie approached and sighed, “Hello, Duncatdad Duncan. Have you seen another dessert table anywhere?” -- Duncan recognized her face- though the problem with that was that the same face belonged to... one other person? No, two. Triplets, right. Which meant he had a one-in-three chance of guessing who she was- odds he didn't really favor, though this was quickly alleviated when she greeted him by his instagram name. "Hello, Dottiest Dottie," Duncan grinned, giving a silent toast of his beer bottle by way of greeting. The dessert table was just behind her, now, but whatever she was seeking must not have been there. He frowned, then shook his head. "'Fraid I haven't. What's missing?" -- Her quandary was momentarily relieved by his greeting, which she met with a bright smile, though as he asked what was missing, she eyed the dessert table with a betrayed sort of expression. Dunhaven was a fine town, but their appreciation for pie and cake did nothing for her cravings. “Pudding,” she informed him, a forlorn set to her shoulders, another minor quirk to her lips, “Not my cat Pudding, but the gooey variety.” -- "Pudding?" he repeated the query, even after she had clarified that it wasn't her own cat that she was seeking. "Like, from a box, jell-o brand sort of thing? Not that there's anything wrong with that," Duncan amended, quickly, "but I think this place," he gestured a vague hand around them, "might be too fancy for that." -- He gestured to the Hollywood themed party happening around them, and she knew that he was probably right. Pudding wasn't considered as fancy as the mini tartlets and bite sized cheesecakes. It could be made more appropriate with proper presentation. Pudding didn't just have to be plain, after all, “I mean, if you're going to go the easy route, stove top is best. But contrary to popular belief, you can make pudding without a mix.” Dottie pursed her lips slightly and sighed, addressing him as though they might have been long-time friends, “Pudding is such a neglected option, Duncan. It's a missed opportunity. They could have done dainty single servings in crystalline cups. That still would have been fancy, with layers of whipped cream and toppings.” -- "Can you?" He hadn't meant to doubt her assertion, he'd just never heard of anyone trying. Convenience- or maybe laziness- seemed to rule the day more often than not. She had some strong opinions about pudding, it seemed, but everyone had their own little hills to fight for. Nothing wrong with that. "I mean, you've got me convinced, especially with fresh whipped cream and all of that. I'll have to complain to management and petition for next year." -- She blinked once at him, and then realized that perhaps not all people did know methods like she did, “It’s seven ingredients...and it takes ten minutes? Well...then it has to chill. But…” “I was planning to stay until midnight, but honestly, now I might have to go find pudding,” she admitted with a small shrug, “I’m afraid I won’t be satisfied until then, and as much as I enjoy the idea of it being added to the menu for next year...I can’t wait that long.” -- "Well, when you put it that way." Duncan smiled, taking another sip from his beer- the unfinished bottle of which he set down on a tray as it passed by, being carried by a waiter. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them eagerly. "Where shall we start the search?" -- Dottie’s smile bloomed brilliantly across her lips at his indication that he would join her. For a moment, she considered their options. Most restaurants in town didn’t have pudding, and those that did, it wasn’t very good pudding. She was fairly certain she had the stuff to make it in her own kitchen, but she was uncertain that Duncan had signed up for a trip across down to her private home. So she just needed a kitchen...and a decently stocked one. Glancing between him and the dessert table, her eyes tracking the paths the waiters had recently walked, Dottie nodded once and decided, “This way.” She did not hesitate to take his hand and lead him away from the dance floor and towards one of the doors she had seen people going to and from with trays of dirty dishes or restocked items for consumption. It had to eventually lead to a kitchen. -- It was a silly sort of quest, all told, but if nothing else it should also be a bit of fun. The posh surroundings weren't really him, anyway, so why not? Duncan fell into step just beside Dottie- and though he was a little surprised when she took his hand, he didn't object. As they passed into the behind-the-scenes areas of the hotel, the atmosphere changed. Brighter lights lit the undecorated hallways, but the path toward the kitchen was a well-traveled one. Even if they weren't dressed like the staff- well, he might have been able to blend in, but she certainly wouldn't- no one seemed to bother them, somehow. Stepping into the kitchen- stainless steel appliances and cookware as far as the eye could see- Duncan noted that most of the dishes that were being served to the guests had already been cooked. The serving staff was retrieving things from various coolers or warmers, but no one seemed to be doing any actual cooking- which was likely in their favor, too. Pulling his hand from Dottie's, Duncan offered her a multi-flourished bow. "Duncan Kane, amateur sous-chef, at your service." -- She had found half of the battle in getting in anywhere you weren’t expressly supposed to be was to pretend you belonged, no matter how out of place you might look. Though she did notice at least one or two strange or curious glances in their direction, no one said anything or stopped them. As he bowed, her grin only intensified. She swept back the longer part of her skirts, dipping herself into a curtsey, “Well, sous-chef, tonight you will be learning a Dottie Darling Delicacy.” She motioned to to kitchen around them and instructed, “If you can find a large, heavy saucepan and a whisk, I’ll start looking for ingredients. How does chocolate sound?” -- "I am honored, truly," Duncan replied, with that same playfully formal air. A nod to her request, then, "Chocolate always sounds good. Anyone who says otherwise is kidding themselves." Luckily, in a commercial kitchen, everything was fairly well organized and easy to access, so it didn't take him long to find the requested saucepan. A whisk soon followed, and he brought back both items to the stove, setting them to be used as she needed. -- “Correct answer,” Dottie said with a grin, though she wouldn’t have really persecuted him for not liking chocolate, in the end. It was just preferable that he did, as it was the recipe that she had in mind. As Duncan gathered the pan and the whisk, Dottie found a few bowls and measuring instruments, and had started to gather ingredients, talking to herself as she went, “Sugar, cocoa…where’s the cornstarch? Oh, hello.” She hummed a bit as she pulled salt and vanilla from a shelf, and shuffled the ingredients to the counter next to the stove, “I need milk and butter from the fridge, too, if you don’t mind.” Those things would at least get the pudding made, though add ons and whipped cream could be easily procured or made as well. With little preamble, she began adding the dry ingredients to the saucepan, though there was no heat under it yet. Still, it eliminated a dirty bowl, and Dottie liked efficiency. -- She'd found measuring utensils, yes, but it seemed that she was still pulling the recipe out of thin air. It was certainly impressive. But then, it seemed to be her favorite food- at least, Duncan felt that was a fairly safe assumption- so of course she'd be able to make it from memory. The fridge was taller than he was, and he opened both doors to find the requested items. The butter was a full five-pound block and the milk was a half-empty gallon, and he also found a container of heavy whipping cream that they could use later on. He set the block of butter on the counter beside where she was stirring items into the saucepan. "This might be too much," Duncan grinned, knowing the answer already. "But I found some whipping cream, too." -- Dottie hadn’t turned on the heat by the time he returned with the milk and butter, but she had measured and dumped all the dry ingredients into the pan. Her eyes widened almost comically at the block of butter, and she couldn’t help but picking it up to admire it, “I’ve never seen this much butter in one solid block before.” Setting the butter aside with amusement lingering on her lips, she commented, “The whipping cream will come in handy. We can fix that while the pudding is chilling. I wonder if they have any small containers around here. Small glass dessert cups or something? The smaller portions it’s in, the faster it will cool.” She did turn on the heat then as she started gradually adding the milk, stirring all the while. -- "I'm sure they've got something of the sort. Let me poke around a bit." Not that he hadn't already been doing that, of course. He had to open several more cabinets and drawers before he found what she had requested- or near enough, hopefully- four half-size mason jars. Duncan brought these back to set down beside where she was working, but then disappeared again to retrieve something else he'd spotted in his search. "Graham cracker crust crumbles," he explained as he returned, "and a small block of chocolate. Which we can either shave, for toppings, or eat straight off." -- Poking around seemed to be something they were both getting quite good at. Now that the heat was on, Dottie was tied more to the stove as she added the appropriate amount of milk and kept stirring, timing down. Once it reached a proper boil, this wouldn’t take long. She met his return with the jars with a bright grin of approval, and a emphatic, “Perfect.” He was off again in short notice, though when he came back, he brought toppings, “Bravo, Duncan. Those will be perfect. Maybe the graham crackers distributed amongst the bottoms of the jars, and then when the pudding is done, we can put that in on top of those. I like the idea of the shaved chocolate. It can garnish the top with the whipped cream?” She would give him the final say so on whether or not that sounded like something worth his adventure - and the possibility of getting kicked out of this hotel - with her. -- He was committed to the act, by now. If the actual employees still noticed them- which Duncan was sure they did- perhaps they just didn't care enough to interrupt their culinary invasion. In the end, their ingredient theft had been minimal, and whatever dishes they dirtied would be snuck in with others from the gala easily enough. Duncan added the crumbs to the bottom of each jar, as directed. He'd found a microplane to shave the chocolate, when it came time for that, but for now he just broke off a small square, and then broke that piece in half again. One half he popped into his mouth, and the other he held out for Dottie. "Quality check," he explained, simply. -- With the offer of chocolate, Dottie happily took the square and placed it on her tongue. She didn’t chew it, but rather let it slowly melt while she stirred the now boiling concoction in front of her. A small, pleased sound passed her lips, and she nodded, “That is good chocolate. I think it’s worthy.” It didn’t take long for the mixture to begin to thicken, and once she had cooked it for the requisite time, she pulled the pan from the heat, quickly adding the vanilla and butter and stirring it in until it was fully integrated. She lifted the whisk and watched the still-thin pudding drizzle back into the pan, “Perfect.” Finally setting aside the whisk, she grabbed a spoon and tipped the pan to pour equal amounts into the jars over top the graham cracker crusts. With the pudding distributed, Dottie snagged a few paper towels and ran them under cold water at the sink as she returned to the jars. “This is a secret trick,” she told him in a stage whisper, wrapping each of the jars with a damp towel, “If you would grab the other two…” she picked up two of the jars and took them to the freezer, opening it up and sticking them on a shelf, “They’ll cool a lot faster this way, so we can enjoy the fruits of our labor.” -- Though he didn't know her recipe or methods, Duncan watched as she prepared. It was deemed to be perfect, and he wouldn't argue the assessment. The 'secret', as it turned out, was simple enough- though he'd never thought of such a thing before, it made sense. "You really are nothing short of magical," he teased, though playfully, as he picked up the other two jars and placed them inside the freezer. -- Dottie’s grin only brightened at his turn of phrase, no matter how playful it was, “I am, really. I dream about all sorts of magic,” she admitted without a hint of a hesitation. There might be some who would say that it wasn’t something to talk about with people you didn’t know very well, but she had never abided by such boundaries. With the pudding in the freezer to quickly chill, she went back to the counter where the whipping cream was still sitting out. She added a measured amount to a bowl, added in some sugar, and a bit of vanilla. Picking up the hand mixer, she offered, “Would you like to do the honors, or should I?” -- Though he'd meant the remark in jest, perhaps it wasn't entirely surprising to hear that she dreamt of magic, too. Presumably someone or somewhere that such things were real. For his part, he'd been more or less ignoring the two dreams he'd had so far. He recognized their where and who, but there wasn't much to be done about it, was there? "Do you really?" Duncan at least did sound interested- though he wouldn't press for anything she didn't want to disclose. "Allow me," and there was the playfully gallant tone again, this time as he took the offered hand mixer to start on whipping up the cream. It whirred to life, and he kept one hand on the edge of the bowl to steady it, spinning it slowly as he mixed. -- “Oh, certainly,” Dottie assured him with a sage nod, though she’d been open about who she was dreaming about on the network, and she saw no reason to hide it from him or anyone else, “Luna Lovegood, if you know who that is.” She offered this information without expecting to get a name from him in return, a pleasant smile on her lips, “I’ve grown very fond of her. She’s a good companion.” As Duncan stepped forward to take the mixer, Dottie stepped to the side and tried to tidy up what remained of the ingredients they had pilfered. She kept an eye on the progress of the whipped cream, not because she didn’t trust him to make it properly, but because she enjoyed watching it froth and whip into peaks. It was like bubbling snow...or spun clouds, “Do you cook much, Duncan?” Her tone was purely curious, not judgmental or concerned. -- "From Harry Potter?" It wasn't that he didn't believe her, Duncan was just, well, surprised. That was a very well-known character, he thought- certainly one whose name and face he remembered, even if he'd only read the books and seen the movies once, apiece. "That's sort of amazing, actually." Though he'd had a few dreams of his own, those memories were ones he hadn't yet come to terms with. He knew the name and the face, but... not enough to share it. Not yet. Luckily, most- if not all- of their borrowed dishes and utensils were things that they could likely just slip into the queue of other items waiting to be washed. Not that Duncan didn't- or wouldn't- take responsibility, but, well, it was just easier. "Well, I live alone, so I've got to." He grinned a bit. "I'm no Chopped champion or anything, but I can usually find my way around a recipe." -- “That’s the one. We’re friends,” Dottie assured him with a beaming smile. The idea of having friends was sometimes as fleeting a feeling as it had been for Luna most of her life. For Dottie, she had been fortunate that she was born with two built in best friends, but they had their own lives and interests. She was still looking for kindred spirits in other ways, and she thought maybe Duncan might be one of those people. “I feel like I understand her. There are some things that she’s endured that I can’t relate to, but we’re quite alike in a lot of ways. Some would say we march to the beat of our own drum, and I suppose that’s true. Though, for me, it’s less marching and more concentrating on not tripping and collapsing like a baby giraffe.” Dottie did shuffle a few items to the sink where they could at least soak, and stuck the butter back in the fridge, along with any remaining cream and milk. Most of the rest of the ingredients had been measured somewhat precisely. “I like recipes. They’re concise and logical. I just have this one memorized, I’ve made it so often,” she leaned her hips back against the counter and offered, “I’ve never lived on my own, though. Even when my sister Abby went to college across the country, Tessa and I stuck together. Does it get lonely? I’m...not a fan of being by myself for long periods of time, but that might be a side-effect of usually having at least one person by my side since before I was born.” In fact, she wasn’t exactly eager to go home to an empty house that night. Well, empty aside from the cats. She assumed they would be willing to keep her company. Dottie could flit unaccompanied about town at her leisure all afternoon and never be bothered by it, but when it came to home, she was comforted by the sounds of other people bustling around. -- He couldn't help but laugh at the description that Dottie gave, comparing herself to a baby giraffe. "If you're really so clumsy as all that, you might start by not wearing heels," he offered, genially, though there was no real irritation or malevolence in his voice. "But that's... a good way to look at it all, I think. As a friend or companion, I mean." "I suppose I'm used to living alone, or near enough to it. I went to Aurelius, but my parents had made sure I had a single room there- for the status of it, not because I'd asked for it." Duncan rolled his eyes. "And then after school, I'd adopted Skye. Not the same as having a human companion, no, but she's got a better personality than a fair few people I know." -- “Actually, for whatever reason, I’m more graceful in heels than I am on flat feet,” Dottie gave a shrug of her thin shoulders and added, “I can find balance in heels and yoga, but put me in converse? I will probably find something to trip over in ten minutes, even if it’s a pocket of air.” She smiled gently, though she wouldn’t push him to give information about his own dreams, “I can see why it might be harder for some people to make the same connection, but I have no reason to oppose or deny Luna.” She listened intently as he explained that he’d gone to the local private school and boarded in a room by himself, presumably quite young. “I went to public school in New York, and our house wasn’t very extravagant. Not that it needed to be. My parents still live there. When we were little, they renovated the smaller bedrooms of the house into one large bedroom for all three of us girls. So we were...basically never alone.” She grinned as she explained, “I just adopted Pudding a few years ago. I would definitely agree that she’s often better than other people. She seems to understand what I’m feeling, even when others don’t...and she’s very good company.” -- "Fair enough." Duncan just shrugged- he had no reason not to take Dottie at her word, after all. "I suppose I'm just biased- I can't walk in heels to save my life." If there was more to that story, he didn't offer it right away. "I've only ever been to New York as a kid," he admitted, "though I've wanted to go back." Really, he had no reason not to go- he had the money for travel, but Duncan didn't like throwing that sort of thing around unnecessarily. "I've got two sisters, too," he added, "though we're nowhere near as close as you and yours. Mo and I are... contentious, more often than not. And Maeve's a good kid, but," he trailed off, shrugging. Really, he knew very little about his youngest sister. Instead, he offered a smile. "We'll need a Pudding and Skye play-date, sometime soon." -- “It’s all in the posture and placement of the foot,” Dottie advised him, grinning, “I’d offer to teach you, but it sounds like you’re safer in flat shoes.” How he knew that he couldn’t walk in heels could be imagined well enough, though she wondered if someone had put him up to trying or if he’d simply been curious. “Maybe one day I can show you around the city,” she offered without thinking much about any potential implication, “I still go up frequently for business and visits. Tessa and I have talked about moving our headquarters towards the D.C. area, if not in Dunhaven itself, but we’ll still keep our store fronts in the city. I love New York. Not just the city, but the state, too. It has a lot to offer.” As she listened to his relationship with his own sisters, she didn’t frown, though it made her feel a little sad for...well, all of them, “I know siblings can’t and don’t always get along as well as I do with mine. I wouldn’t presume to tell anyone how their personal relationships should be.” Her smile did return with a vengeance when he suggested a play-date with their feline companions, “I’m sure they’d both love that. Pudding adores other cats, and is very toy-motivated...until she decides it’s naptime, anyway.” -- "Maybe a rain check on that particular lesson," he offered, grinning a bit. "Luckily for my ankles, there hasn't been much call to put me in heels since I hit a growth spurt and was no longer forced to play the women's' roles in Aurelius' theater program." Being a skinny kid had been bad enough, but at least once he had grown past five-foot-seven they hadn't thought he could pass as a woman. (Even though the actual woman standing next to him right then was nearly as tall as him, in her own heels.) "I'd like that. I mean, most places are better if you've got a local to show you the ropes, and I'm sure New York City is doubly so. You'll know of places to go and things to try that I'd never have been able to Google. And things off the beaten path are nearly always better." Most people likely wouldn't have thought to do any kind of pet meeting with cats, since they certainly had a reputation for being standoffish at the very best. But Dottie, at least, seemed to get it. And that was a nice change. "I'm Skye's favorite person, but then, she's never really been around many other people at all- so that's just the default, I suppose. But she's quite fond of anything that crinkles, and naps are always on the agenda." -- Dottie couldn’t help the burst of giggles that escaped her when she imagined him playing women’s roles in the local all-boys school theater. Maybe it was only so amusing because she didn’t know what he looked like back then, so all that she could really imagine was this tall, muscular man covered in tattoos trying to speak in a feminized voice in, “Please tell me they had you in something stable like wedges or pumps and not platforms or stilettos.” “I know where to find all the best pizza and bagels and non-Starbucks coffee that New York City has to offer. I’m very into socializing with food, if that wasn’t obvious,” she offered, sweeping a hand in gesture to the nearly-peaked whipped cream and chocolate renderings on the counter in front of them, “But there are some tourist type things that I still highly recommend. Broadway and Central Park, especially.” “Well, maybe Pudding and I can both be friends with Skye. I’m certain you’ll forever be her favorite person, but I will dangle crinkly toys on a string to earn her love,” Dottie proposed with a smile, “I’ll give you control of the laser pointer.” -- "They were... pumps, I think." Duncan had wrinkled his nose in thought as he tried to remember- the nomenclature of women's shoes wasn't something he was expertly familiar with after all. "Starbucks is well and good if that's your only option- but even I know that wouldn't be the case in New York City. I look forward to the culinary tour." And even if the offer itself had been a throwaway sort of comment, Duncan liked the idea of it, so he wasn't going to say no. "Once she meets you both, she'll be a fan, I'm sure. Especially if you bring crinkly toys." He laughed a bit, adding, "I get the laser pointer? Such power! I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of responsibility." -- He really was quite handsome, and as he wrinkled his nose, Dottie thought she felt her heart flutter. She ignored it, and the slight flush of her cheeks as she gave a wise nod, “Kind of them, at least.” “We should go to Third Rail. They have just about any coffee offering you could want, but my favorite is the cortado. Top notch baked goods, too. The scones are particularly good with a drink.” She made a mental note to add it to the list of things she needed to do and plan, though she didn’t know when he might want to travel. “You set the challenge, Duncan, so I am not responsible for the amount of toys I may bring,” she warned him with a sly smile. A laugh quickly followed it as he joked about the laser pointer, “Oh, if you can handle the responsibility of the whipped cream, I believe you can muster the courage to command the laser pointer. I know it’s not for the faint of heart, but I’m willing to put my faith in you.” -- Though Duncan wouldn't have known the suggested coffee shop from any other of the- likely- thousands in New York, he still nodded, eagerly agreeing. "I love a good scone, especially with cream and jam." He flipped the mixer off, then swiped a finger through the whipped cream peaks, trying some of the sweet result of his work. "Not bad," he decided, tilting the bowl in Dottie's direction so she could try it, too. "Your judgement of the whipped cream will determine my inherent worthiness of any future laser pointer command. I await your verdict." -- When he offered the bowl towards her, so valiantly putting himself to the test, Dottie swiped her finger through the peaks in a slightly curved motion. Their two taste tests would leave a ‘D’ in the middle of those white peaks, but she smiled at the shared initial. Besides, they were the only two eating out of it anyway. She popped her finger into her mouth and closed her eyes with a small smile as she enjoyed the sweet, light taste of the whipped cream, “It's just as it should be. By my decree, you shall forever be in charge of whipped cream mixing and laser pointer privileges will be bestowed to you immediately. You have proven yourself, Sous Chef Duncan. And now we get to finish the presentation so we can eat.” -- He hadn't even considered, for a moment, that she might be offended by his sticking fingers into the whipped cream. Luckily, Dottie followed suit as soon as Duncan offered her the chance to do so. He held his breath for that brief moment before her judgment came down, then grinned with the results. "Yeah? Well thank you, Head Chef Dottie." He set the bowl back down on the counter, then offered another playful bow as if to thank her for her kind words. "I will endeavor to rise to the level you have set." Turning to the freezer, Duncan retrieved the two jars that Dottie had left there. "Would you like the honors, then?" -- When Duncan returned with the now-chilled jars of pudding, Dottie grinned and took them the sit on the counter, “Of course.” She unwrapped the sides from the now frosty paper towels. The pudding appeared to have set the proper amount, given a cursory wiggle of the jar. She took a spoon and carefully dolloped a generous amount of whipped cream into each jar, and then took the microplane to shave curls of chocolate over the top of the whipped cream. Once each of them looked presentable and delicious, she cleared the area. Even though it was unnecessary, she put each of the jars on a small saucer with a spoon, and stepped back to admire their work. “There. New Years Eve is saved. We should probably take a picture for posterity,” she insisted with a wisened tone, though her phone was tucked away in her clutch on another counter. -- Duncan watched her with interest, still fascinated and more than a little impressed with the ease of which she moved. (And it wasn't even her kitchen!) At the prompt for a photo, he pulled his own phone from his back pocket, then leaned down to line up a properly artful shot. "There we go," he showed his screen to Dottie, just in case, but then pocketed the phone once again. Lifting up one saucer, he handed it over to her, then took his in hand as well. He held the saucer in one hand, but took the jar in the other, raising it to Dottie as if to propose a toast. "To a pudding-filled 2019. Cheers, Dottie." -- She deemed the picture a success with little more than a grin and a nod, though she assumed he would either send it to her or it would eventually crop up in some place where she could see it. They really did make a good team, creating such a delectable looking dessert. She took the saucer gratefully and lifting her own pudding with a smile, “Cheers, Duncan. There couldn't be a better wish than that.” Somewhere in the hotel, a countdown had started, and voices were rising up, shouting over the thrumming music as they counted down to midnight, which was the exact moment that the first bite of pudding passed her lips. The bite, she had made certain incorporated a bit of everything in the jar for full flavor and texture. She hummed in appreciation, letting the dessert sit on her tongue a moment before she swallowed, “I think we've outdone ourselves, Duncan.” -- They couldn't have timed it any better, really. The shouted countdown was audible even as far away from the ballroom as they were, and Duncan found he much preferred this sort of toast instead of a champagne one. He took a generous spoonful of the pudding, letting it pass his lips and savoring the combination of flavors. Pulling the spoon slowly from his lips, Duncan playfully let his knees go weak, dipping down just slightly as if the taste had left him otherwise incapacitated. "I think you are right, Dottie. Damn that's good." -- He let his knees go a bit weak, and Dottie beamed even as she took another bite, turning the spoon over in her mouth and pulling it through her lips with a bit of a ‘pop.’ “I told you pudding can be fancy enough for even a party like that one,” she gestured vaguely with her spoon towards the room where everyone else had gathered for the evening’s festivities. “Thank you for embarking on this grand quest with me. It really was a lot more fun with company. My midnight definitely wasn’t wasted,” she smiled, hoping that her sisters were enjoying their new years kisses as much as she was enjoying this moment with her new friend. |