Roy Mustang is the "morally bankrupt colonel (withagodcomplex) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-04-27 14:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | audrey, roy mustang |
Who: Roy and Audrey
When: Early April
Where: Baxter Bakery
What: Sparkling Lattes and Conversation
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
It was Saturday morning, Roy had nothing planned, and a lazy desire to avoid his own cooking for breakfast. Recalling the bakery he'd found a week ago, he decided that that sounded like what he was in the mood for. Twenty minutes later, he could be found strolling through the door to take a look at the bakery case. "Morning," he called out in casual greeting.
Audrey didn’t always come in on Saturday mornings. Now that she and Merlin had the baby, they were spending more time together as a family on the weekends. But this morning Audrey wanted to let her husband sleep in, so she grabbed Ben and headed to the bakery to get a little work done as well as see people, show off the baby, and have breakfast. She could bring something home for Merlin, too.
She had the baby in a front backpack, and was hanging out near the register. A smile crossed her features when someone came in through the front door. “Morning!” She responded, happily.
Roy came up to the counter with a lopsided smile that brightened a touch further at the sight of the baby. "Starting him off early in the family business?" he teased, remembering his meeting with Merlin. He'd mentioned his wife owned the bakery -- it wasn't hard to make an educated guess.
“Well, he’d have to be doing computer stuff for his Daddy’s side,” Audrey said, grinning softly. “But yes. Getting him in here early on. Develops a strong work ethic.” She was teasing, obviously. Playfully. That was the sort of personality that Audrey had. She was friendly with everyone, all the customers who came through her door, whether she knew them or not. “What can I get for you?”
"And maybe a sweet tooth," Roy countered with a grin. "There are worse things to have, though." He leaned on the counter, momentarily thoughtful. "Nina said I should try the sparkling latte, so one of those, please." He had never heard of such a thing, and was certainly curious about it. "As for food ... " he glanced down at the bakery case, then back up at the menu, indecisive only in that there were a number of choices and they all sounded good. "I'd like something savory. What would you recommend?"
"The sparkling lattes are a staple here. You can't get them anywhere else in the whole world. They shimmer in the sunlight. It's not carbonated, or anything." Audrey explained. "The milk is a bit sweeter than your average cow's milk, and has more nutrients. It's something Dream related." Hopefully he dreamed. Otherwise, that would sound really crazy.
She cleared her throat. "Well, I love the ham and cheese croissants. But we make some pretty fantastic quiches, too."
Maybe it sounded crazy, maybe it didn't. Roy had initially thought that that was what Nina had meant when she mentioned it, then dismissed the idea, assuming he'd misread her intent of describing the drink as carbonated. That his initial gut reaction was right was slightly unsettling.
He had certainly spent enough time on valarnet to get the feeling that there was something going on, even if all he dreamed about were things he could easily ascribe to work stress. "In that case, I'm definitely curious. You should always try the house specialty, right?" he decided, offering her a smile. "And a ham and cheese croissant should hit the spot."
He was admittedly a little wary, too, at being up close and personal with Dream stuff for the first time. Those inner misgivings were assuaged, oddly enough, by the fact that she had the baby with her, and he'd met her husband. Altogether they seemed as normal as anyone else. Which reminded him -- "By the way, I think I met your husband the last time I was in here. I'm Roy Mustang. Pleasure to meet you."
"Always. That's one of the best things to do--great part about Yelp, I think. Gives you a hint as to what other people love to get when they go to a place." Audrey was a proud baker. She thought everything she made was delicious, or else she wouldn’t try to sell it to people.
"Do you want me to warm it up for you?" She used tongs to grab his croissant for him. “Oh, you met Merlin?” Audrey asked, brightening considerably at the mention of her husband. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Roy,” she said. “I’m Audrey, though I suppose you figured that out already.”
"That would be great." Not that he didn't like them straight out of the case, but warm and crisp with melting cheese -- that sounded fantastic right now. "Hm? Yes, last week. It was busy and he said you were in the back taking care of the little guy." He nodded apologetically at the baby. "Whose name I'm afraid I don't know, sorry." Truth be told, Roy only knew Audrey's because her name was on the business card that Merlin had given him. He suspected that would score Merlin no points with his wife, though, so he wasn't about to bring it up.
He hesitated only briefly, warring with himself over the whole Dream thing. She seemed willing enough to talk about it with a stranger, he reasoned. It was his job to keep an eye on this stuff right now, even if he had no idea what he was going to write in his next report that would keep him from being questioned in terms of his sanity. "You said the milk was Dream-related? How does that work? Or is that a house secret?"
Melting cheese all over the salty ham, with light, fluffy, butter pastry all around? Delicious. And now Audrey was getting hungry, too. She put the thing into the warmer and set the timer. Just a few seconds in the convection/microwave oven doohickey, and the pastry would be perfect.
"Ah, yes. Ben." Audrey brought one hand up to touch the baby's fine hair. He was awake and looking around, not quite four months old, but quite alert. "I do spend a lot of time taking care of the little guy," Audrey added, grinning.
"Well..." Audrey paused, leaning her hip against the counter. "One of my customers supplied us with pasteurized, whole, local milk. And then he started to have these weird dreams, and his cows started... they started to give him strange milk. I had another customer--well, sometimes customer--who works in a pharmaceutical company, and he ran all sorts of tests on the milk. To make sure it was safe. And it was. More nutrients, a little thicker, a little sweeter, and glistening milk. That's all it is. But I've got an exclusive contract with the guy whose cows produce it. This is the only place you can buy it commercially."
“Heh. He’s a handsome one. Bet he’ll be keeping you pretty busy for a while, when he’s not flirting with all the ladies who walk in here,” he teased. If the counter were not in the way, Roy would have offered the bright-eyed boy a finger to hold.
He took in Audrey’s explanation attentively. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, though cows giving sparkling milk weren’t on the list. For one brief moment, he flashed on an old commercial about chocolate milk coming from chocolate cows in a chocolate field. Life imitating art. Who knew?
“I hadn’t realized the dreams could affect livestock.” There was amusement in his words, but underneath that was a level of serious reflection as he rejiggered his assumptions about how things worked. “That’s fascinating. If I had access to the equipment, I’d be tempted to run tests on it myself just to see how the sparkling effect worked.” Phosphorescence? Iridescence? Something else entirely? Roy was now extremely curious.
"Undoubtedly. I hope he grows up just like his Daddy," Audrey said, both fond and proud. She scooped the warmed pastry onto a plate then slid it across the counter to him. "Or gentlemen. I don't care which gender her flirts with," she added. That part was very important to her. Right? Being unbiased, nonjudgemental.
"The Dreams affect everything. If it's too weird, we can use regular milk. We have that, too." Audrey said, trying to set his mind at ease. "I think you'll like it, though." She laughed. "Maybe you can convince Tony Stark to do some tests. I'm sure he's got the equipment over at Stark Tower. I hear he's a Dreamer, too."
Roy chuckled. "Or gentlemen. His level of cute is weapons-grade dangerous."
There wouldn't be room for another customer if he stayed to eat at the counter (and it would most certainly be impolite to do so), but he was enjoying the conversation, so he found the closest table and settled in facing her. "No, I definitely want to try it. At this point, I'm more than a little intrigued. I did chemistry in college before I joined the Marines, and sometimes I miss tinkering around with things like this."
At the mention of Stark, he grew thoughtful. "Well, I'd been intending to speak with him anyway, so that just gives me another excuse. Merlin mentioned him to me, though that was about business, rather than fun."
Brushing off the seriousness, he offered her a wry smile. "Seems like most people I've been meeting lately are. All I've been dreaming about is work. Same problems, just different faces and uniforms. You'd think at least my dream-staff would be a little less prone to worrying about non-existent ghosts and lack of girlfriends, or that I'd have less paperwork on my dream-desk."
"And it'll only get more so as he grows, I bet." Audrey couldn't hide how proud she was. Both in her speech and in her face. She moved over to the espresso machine to make his drink personally. It was closer to the table he chose, so she could still talk to him over the steaming of the milk and the grinding of the beans.
"I'm more than willing to send you off with a sample if you can find a lab, or something." She offered. "You should definitely get in touch with him. Make sure to throw Merlin's name around. I hear Mr. Stark is very fond of his Head of IT." She gave Roy a wink.
"My Dreams have nothing to do with the Real World. They're all about magic spells, sorcery... a lot of memory loss. And magical baking. I'm a magical baker in my Dreams." Beat. “So I guess they have something to do with the Real World, don’t they?”
Roy laughed. "I'll be sure to do that, then. Merlin gave me his contact information. I should get ahold of him and get Stark's." Every time he'd remembered, he'd been in a briefing, and one thing Roy did not do was look inattentive in briefings. He reminded himself that it was something to do the next time he was avoiding paperwork.
"Memory loss? That sounds unpleasant. Though if that was the price for these croissants ..." he waved what little remained of his at her with a grin, "I'm selfishly glad you paid it. They're incredible."
He took his time weighing his answer, having caught the capitalization in her words, and decided that he wasn't running much risk by being up-front with her. "I don't know. More accurately, I'm not sure if I've had what you'd classify as capital-D dreams. Different time, different reality, but it's pretty much the same old routine with dream rules. Y'know, wanting to burn down your stack of real-life paperwork just by snapping your fingers turns into actually doing it in your dreams. Doesn't seem any different from what anyone else with an active imagination would call a normal dream."
"Definitely." Audrey agreed about getting in touch with Stark Industries, then she laughed. "I'm kinda glad I paid it, too. That's one of the brilliant things about working in a bakery. I get to enjoy the fruits of my labor." She beamed. Audrey wasn't a stick figure by any stretch of the imagination. She was dropping the pregnancy weight, but even her pre-pregnancy she was a bit round about the middle.
"Well, hopefully you'll have good Dreams when they come along. Are you on Valarnet? Normally they start after people jump onto Valarnet."
“Always best to work at something that gives you the feeling of a job well done. Plus good benefits,” he teased. In a way, he both envied her and was grateful for her. Not that Roy didn’t love what he did. He did, but his satisfaction was one that belonged to a grittier world — a pride in a dirty job that someone had to do right. That other people like Audrey could pursue their dreams safely and freely — that was the best sign that his own job was being done well.
“I hope so too. The things I’ve seen there sound pretty intense. And yeah, about six weeks.” Actually, he had been lurking even a little longer than that, but he wasn’t at liberty to say so. He lifted an eyebrow, now curious for probably the hundredth time on this particular question. “Is that a Valarnet thing? Come to the ‘net, you get dreams? Or is it more that people who have them end up there, and the people who don’t don’t stick around?”
Audrey beamed--she was unable to hide her happiness and pride in what she did and how well she did it. The fact that it brought joy to other people was just icing on the cake. "Definitely." She replied.
"Oh. Well. Then maybe they've already started. Maybe you're just one of the lucky ones who has really normal, easy Dreams, ones that mimic the Real World." She shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that. Hey, maybe it's better to have Dreams like that than ones about war and death and vampires and whatever else." Magic, like hers.
The possibility hadn't occurred to Roy. It should have, he argued to himself, but ... why hadn't it? Because ..."There are people like that?" He peered over at the counter to sneak a peek at the milk as it was steaming. "Huh. I hadn't realized that. But then I guess the more-sensational stuff is what sticks in memory. Especially after all that body-swap discussion." He offered her a self-deprecating grin. "One of those things that's hard to take seriously except that everyone else is taking it very seriously. .... Maybe you're right. I already have dreams about war, and I wouldn't recommend them. Hope I get to skip the vampires."
"Yes, there are a few. The Dreams are a bit wonky, but things range from alternate realities with vampires or superheroes or magic, to plain, ordinary, day-to-day life things. Sometimes they start plain and get weird, though." Audrey chuckled. "Well, I'll keep my fingers crossed that you skip to the vampires. Especially the sexy ones. Those seem like fun dreams." She finished up his drink and set it on the counter so he could pick it up from his side.
"Eh, I think I'd rather live on croissants and lattes than human blood," Roy teased. "They probably wouldn't let me back into the field with that condition, either." Yet again he wondered if someone in his chain of command was trying to get him fired. He picked up the cup, examining it and its contents with all the intensity of a born engineer. The creamy liquid in it caught the light and sparkled as if it were faceted. "Unreal." He caught himself, and chuckled. "I'm sorry. Just having the urge to take it apart to see how it works. That'd be a waste of a good latte, though."
He inhaled the steam with a soft 'hm' -- not that he was an expert on coffee, but this seemed like his preferred kind, a balance of light and dark roasts. And it was actually crafted, as opposed to thrown together in the office. A subtle sweetness seemed to linger in the steam -- he assumed it was from the milk, as she'd suggested. Well then ...
A sip. Tasty and intriguing, with the strangeness of touching an inexplicable reality. At the same time, it was somehow reassuring -- that the weirdness attached to Valar actually existed, rather than being made up wholecloth. "Hmmmmm." A smile spread across his face. "I think I'd better make sure to taste-test this again sometime soon. Maybe more than once. You know, just to be sure the first few samples were accurate. Results have to be replicable, right?"
Audrey gave a laugh. "Yes. I think I agree with you there." She responded, grinning brightly. "Not exactly fond of the taste of blood myself." Then she watched him with the cup. It was amusing to see people with the sparkling milk for the first time. Everyone reacted slightly differently. She wasn't surprised to see him examining it. He wasn't the first. "It's absolutely okay. People from all walks of life are surprised by the stuff."
She leaned against the counter to watch him with the drink, amused and entertained every time a new person got a sip. She grinned when he smiled. "Yeah?" She laughed. "Of course. For science," she said, nodding.
“For science,” he echoed with a smile, saluting her with what was left of the coffee. It was dwindling fairly rapidly, though he’d pause every now and then to take another bemused look at it, as if to confirm again that it was real.
A thought occurred to him, and he mulled it over briefly to figure out how to phrase the question. “This is going to sound odd, but … does this stuff confine itself to Valar?” He nodded at the drink. “I mean, do you get people who aren’t on v-net asking for it?” She’d mentioned Yelp, and Roy wondered how it was that the unusual latte and the milk that made it hadn’t been splattered all over the news, or at least all over Food Network at some point.
Audrey raised an eyebrow, then thought about it for a moment. "You know... I have no idea." She responded honestly. "I don't know if it does. Sometimes people see just what they want to see? That's how magic works in my Dream world. Muggles--non-magical people--see what they want to see when magic comes around." She glanced at his cup, then around the shop. It was filled with both people from Valarnet and people who weren't. There were always people around in here, both v-net'ers and not. "I've never thought to ask. I don't want to call attention to it to people who otherwise wouldn't have seen it."
Roy’s own eyes dropped to the cup, now mostly empty. He resisted an urge to rub his forehead, though a small crease appeared in the space between his eyebrows. For every one question he thought he might have half an answer to, two more popped up. And yet again, he was back to considering the whole mass hallucination angle.
He was pretty sure he wasn’t hallucinating, though. Or if he was, all the cautions about PTSD hallucinations didn’t involve nice baker ladies with chubby four-month-olds and sparkling coffee. He almost laughed. What a story that would be to tell his therapist — if he did. Somehow he had the feeling that that might not be the best idea.
Which meant … what? If he took her assumptions as correct, either he was somehow on her list of “magical people” or he’d wanted to see things this way. Roy did not appreciate reality being that malleable, at this moment.
Argument the first — he’d initially expected what he’d actually seen, thereby predisposing him to seeing it. But argument the second, he’d firmly decided that that expectation couldn’t possibly have been right, only to be proven wrong. Argument the third … she was standing here watching him and he really didn’t have time to try to figure out what it meant if he wasn’t a … muggle. (He almost wanted to laugh again. That word sounded like something out of Jim Henson’s creature shop.) At least not if he didn’t want to appear rude by losing himself in thought in front of her.
Regardless, she had a point. He could only begin to imagine the regulations that would be piled on top of her supplier for this fantastical milk, and the trumped-up lawsuits she could face for serving it. It seemed harmless enough, so it was probably best just kept quiet. “You’re right. It’s probably safer that way. I’m glad to be privileged, then.” He drained the rest of the cup, noting that even the little droplets that remained in the bottom still glittered mysteriously.
He went quiet for a very long time, and seemed to be thinking hard. Audrey wondered for a moment if she’d broken him--if the thoughts in his head were so difficult that it made his brain stop working--but then he spoke and finished the coffee, and her mind was set at ease again.
“You’re welcome,” she teased, then gave him a wink.
Of course, Benny was running low on patience right about now. It was nurse and nap time, and he’d had just about enough of this standing around yapping and not feeding the baby nonsense. He started to fuss, shifting uncomfortably in the front pack.
Audrey, sensing that a meltdown was just around the corner, started to unsnap the thing so she could get him out. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Roy, but I’ve got to get this little guy fed and down for his nap,” she said, apologetically. “But I’m sure to see you again soon?”
“Don’t let me keep you.” Roy waved both Audrey and little Ben off. “I’ll definitely be back.” As she went, he went back to his table to tidy up the remains of his breakfast, still eying the last sparkling drops in the bottom of his cup.