Who: Katherine & Cindy(rella) What: Cindy fullfills the promise of drinks and desserts when things got weird for Katherine, and they got weird When: Today Where: Restaurant of pie, cheesecakes and alcohol~ Rating/Warning: Mentions of childbirth but that's it Status: Complete!
Pecan pie was so blissful. A true southern delight that she couldnât exactly give up as easily as she did her fried okra and swaying magnolia trees accent. Cindy knew of no other way to describe it, besides blissful. Sweet, crunchy, with the pecans chopped as a necessity because otherwise if you sliced into it you got bulky chunks pushed into the most perfect filling. For awhile she just avoided it because, well, it wasnât the healthiest thing - and she was also married to someone whose head would swell if he even looked in the direction of any kind of nut. There werenât any in the house at all, since contamination could be an issue. Now, it wasnât so much - considering Garrus couldnât even eat Earthling food anyway.
But sometimes when she went out, she indulged in her favorite dessert. Probably both a blessing and a curse that she couldnât bake worth a damn, otherwise sheâd make this every week and likely weigh four-hundred pounds. When she took a forkful though, after so long of not being reunited, all she could ever think was worth it.
The restaurant was nice, cozy, with a piano player in the middle and heat lamps on the patio so customers wouldnât freeze in this âcoldâ winter weather. Cindy started off with her favorites - a âgin and it,â bonus points to anyone who knew how to make it without having her explain (it was just gin and sweet vermouth, no big deal) and a slice of that pie sheâd been craving. Sheâd promised drinks and desserts, and she made good on her promises.
âSo,â she stirred her beverage with the tiny cocktail straw, glancing up at her companion. Her favorite on ANTM! God, she was addicted to those fucking terrible reality shows. A vice of hers. âIt got weird, didnât it?â
It got weird. It got so fucking weird that Katherine was the epitome of grouch with an aching back and sore hips. Phantom pains, she guessed, despite knowing damn well she hadnât given birth anytime recently but she remembered the pains and aches following what was considered âbeautiful miracleâ - and yes, thatâs how her dreams had started. Born into a wealthy Bulgarian family centuries and centuries back, falling in love, bringing her family shame by getting knocked up and then after that she was their hidden secret. Couldnât let the other noble families know that their precious Katerina went whore, could they?
Then, of course, the birthing part during a time where epidurals didnât exist and hours, hours of labor ensued until a newbornâs cry pierced the air. And that was it. Months of carrying, months of feeling every roll and kick, and she didnât even get to hold the daughter she gave birth to. Her father took the bundle in his arms and whisked her away, and her mother had to literally hold her back as it happened.
Well, at least they were nice enough to let her body heal from the entire ordeal before exiling her to England. Wasnât that just the sweetest, most darling pile of shit ever.
So, yes, grouch. Grouch because it hit close to home, grouch because it opened up an old scarred wound and dumped lemon juice all up in it. Katherine was, at the very least, a well-dressed grouch, properly accessorized and fashioning impeccably curled hair. Her philosophy was to always get dressed and be prepared to have your photo taken no matter what was happening or how she was feeling, and no matter what bullshit she got cursed to dream with made her feel, like hell sheâd treat it as an exception.
Though it was also the reason why she had ordered an entire cheesecake sampler (white chocolate raspberry, dulce de leches, and dark chocolate overdose) all to herself. Model diets could go screw themselves. She could work it off later, and Cindy had promised to pay.
A white russian was her cocktail of choice today. Alcoholic ice milk to go well with the sweets she was indulging in, and letâs just say the way she cut through that caramel piece of dessert was a little violent. âI donât binge eat like this without a reason, Cinderella, and is it normal to wake up with some residue pain of what you just went through?â
Damn, a cheesecake sampler. Well, more power to her for being able to pack it in - Cindy didnât mind having dessert first, and only dessert. Itâd give her an excuse to maybe try the banana cream pie after the pecan. Mmm. She sipped her drink (also called a Gin and Cin sometimes, which she found amusing thanks to how Garrus sometimes shortened her name, even shorter than it already was. Like fuck she ever went by Cynthia). No ice, and she sloshed the liquid in her glass - it was such a unique alchemy of flavor, and she could probably even drink just the Italian sweet vermouth by itself.
âNormal anywhere but here? Probably not. But here itâs plenty normal,â she assured. âI woke up dead once, so thereâs also that. What happened?â
Getting the injuries this soon never boded well. Usually people had some time to ease into how awful their dreams actually were. Hers werenât even that bad, until sheâd died. Dark and noir, with a fairytale twist, but not terrible.
That was one hefty piece of cheesecake she cut off with the edge of her fork, and the way she stuffed it into the hole that was her mouth was nevertheless, ravenous. Katherine almost started talking with a full-mouth but then remembered that she was a lady, and ladies had manners (sometimes), so she chewed and swallowed while staring at the bitty blonde like sheâd grown nipples on her forehead.
âNo, sweetness, you first,â she insisted, shoveling up a chunk of whipped cream onto her utensil to devour that next. âYouâll need to explain to me how someone wakes up dead - one plus one doesnât exactly add up to two there.â
In a minute sheâd whip out the bottle of advil and down it with her drink. Models doing pills and imbibing, wasnât that so typically Hollywood of her?
At least it wasnât a Percocet or something - the model would be passed out, face down in her mountain of cheesecake and whipped cream. Cindy could understand the need for an Advil, however. These dreams were quite the headache, which was why she was also understanding of Katherineâs need to stuff herself with dessert. No judgment. Maybe being treated to something sweet and comforting helped a little too - hey, whatever Cindy could do.
âI died in my dreams,â she explained, using the side of her fork to slice into her pie. Sugary goodness was needed as fortification if she was going to rehash this. âItâs not exactly your typical fairytale - we Fables migrated to the modern world from the Homelands, and tried to keep our existence a secret from the Mundanes. Weâre sort of immortal and the more known in that world our story is, the more powerful we are.â Some didnât believe that, like Frau, but who trusted a slippery, slimyTotenkinder anyway? The magic of Fables wasnât exact. âAnyway, so I ended up fighting this child-eating witch and the battle was so epic we brought a castle down around us - we also both bit the dust. My final blow, the killing blow, was jamming a glass slipper into her skull.â
She sighed in sarcastic fondness, fork in her mouth. âAh, memories. As for the death part, it carried over to here and scared the fuck out of my husband when I woke up beaten to a pulp and bloody. Literally did die a minute later, but friends of ours came and helped out so here I am today.â
Beautiful, wasnât it? Shit got weird for Cindy too. She completely sympathized.
There was a very slow, slow rise of her brow as Cindyâs explanation unfolded, and itâs not like Katherine could claim she was particularly batshit. Peopleâs insistent testimonies were enough to cast a shadow of doubt, a small âwell, maybe this is actually happening,â but it was all cemented with what she dreamt and how she woke up. For a second she was almost convinced she was back there, in Bulgaria - nearing the end of the fifteenth century, blood and afterbirth on the sheets while her mother cried with her.
Curiously enough, mommy dearest there wasnât the one she had here. And there were no signs of that golden child twin, either, or Jeremy. Hm.
âAnd is it masochism that keeps you here, or do you think living elsewhere would be outright boring?â Part of her wanted to pack her things, rent out the condo, and peace out - she had her taste of the cake and didnât like it. The other was curious. Katherine squinted at her from across the table, the prongs of the fork pointed at her. âYou died. Even if it was for a minute, staying in a place that literally tries to kill you in your sleep seems like the kind of place youâd want to avoid.â
Maybe the juju of this place brainwashed you to stay? Anything was possible, literally.
Her death had happened after a crime wave that rippled across the county, and the kidnapping on Valentineâs Day related to it all and something Cindy would never forget. She was on the âwell, it canât get any worseâ train when she literally did die - so she was proven wrong, sure, but still. It happened. Dealing with it seemed prudent.
âWeâve built a life here,â was her reasoning. âI met my husband here, he went through his own changes, we made friends that are basically family - itâs like, weâre rooted now. The OC is a part of us, so I doubt weâll leave anytime soon.â It would happen eventually, sure - maybe theyâd end up moving to be closer to Cindyâs family, or to a remote island, maybe even up to live in their space condo. The stars were the limit, literally. âNo matter what happens we find a way to carry on. Iâll spare you the âsecond chanceâ talk, but it kind of is - a lot of us have seen our other lives cut short in our dreams, so living this one to the fullest is important.â
She took another sip from her drink, washing down a bite of pecan pie. Now to turn the tables, a little. âBut your own family is here, right? They must stay for a reason too. Maybe youâll find your own reasons to stay also.â
That wasâŚsort of romantic. Get royally fucked in this place, then find someone to fuck for the rest of your life? There was a small shrug while Katherine mulled it over, fork caught in between her teeth briefly from her previous bite of cheesecake - so creamy, and rich, and satisfying, and if it all went to her ass then who cared? Not her, at least not right now.
Then, she sighed. âMy brotherâs here.â Jeremy did seem like he was holding something back, and as for the sister? No interaction there. Golden Twin was off abroad, doing the college thing, but Elijah had dreamt of Elena the Good on his search for a âKaterina.â Her. âIf heâs stuck handling this load then Iâm either going to convince him to roll out of here with me, or Iâll stay depending on the damage.â
Jeremy had been the whole point of coming back. What if something happened and he needed her? Katherine had been accused of a lot of things, but not loving her brother would never be one of them.
âTo answer your question in the beginning, thoughâŚâ Oh, fuck it, she was pulling out the pain reliever - and nothing major, just over the counter shit - to swallow with the white russian. âI had a child out of wedlock during the fifteenth century. Noble family couldnât take the shame so they kept it a secret, and kicked me out of Bulgaria. Old school childbirth isnât fun, by the way.â
Nor was modern childbirth with all the lovely drugs they gave you, but it was a picnic in comparison to what she dreamt.
Old school childbirth? Shit. Even now in the twenty-first century, being numb from the neck down, it still wasnât much fun at all. The things it did to your body and...shudder. Cindy was kind of afraid of that part, actually. She knew she wanted kids someday, but this whole âwomen bearing the childrenâ thing was just a lot and very intense. Maybe she just needed to steel her nerves about it first, before she took the plunge.
âThat could not have been easy in the slightest, so props for being tough as hell,â she said, one of her brows arching upward. âAlso bullshit that they kicked you out. I feel like even in some places these days, people are still stuck in that time period too. What happened to the baby?â Judging by Katherineâs grouchiness, it couldnât have ended well.
Usually, she prided herself in being a little more classy than this - pigging out, popping two tablets of Advil, gulping it down with the remainder of her boozy milk (and then flagging the waitress down for another, thank you) wasnât the sort of thing she did often. But the situation called for it, so she wasnât going to hold herself back from what was going to make her feel somewhat better about it all.
âYour guess is as good as mine,â was Katherineâs answer, sarcastic smile and all. âSupposedly he arranged it to where sheâd be off with another family, villages away, to make sure she couldnât be traced back to us Petrovas. Then me to England, spinning some kind of story that Iâve been married off and they got a sheep out of it or something.â
At least she managed to adapt to the English, quickly, learning their customs and language. Katerina saw it as a fresh start.
Ugh, a false sheep out of the deal. Arranging things like marriage and adoptions (especially against the motherâs will, sounded like) was so incredibly fucked up. âWhy didnât they just let you have her, away from the family, if it was so shameful?â Cindy shook her head, picking at the piece of pie. âYou would have made it, no doubt. Even if being ejected into a new country is kind of scary too - but hey, maybe dream you will look at it as a chance to forge your own path.â
Surely more shit was in the future though. You usually got whammied with it over and over again, before the dreams finally screwed off. She hoped that, one day, Katherine found her daughter. If thatâs what she wanted.
Katherineâs nose scrunched, mock smile remaining - because if not, the entire discussion would shred her bit by bit. âDaddy needed to be a little bit extra vindictive, to make sure I learned my lesson.â No running into the sunset with her little baby in arms, not for tarnishing their family name in secret. Bad Katerina, bad.
No problem, papa. Sheâd survive. And also cut through the raspberry cheesecake like she was murdering someone and the red sauce was actually blood - actual homicide would, sadly, put a damper in her career. âI can take it. Iâm sucking up to uptight British nobility and if I play my cards right, Iâll move up the ranks. Turns out if you spin the story of âsad foreign orphanâ when youâve got a pretty face it can get you some resources.â
What else was she supposed to do? Rot with the peasants, die by twenty-five from starvation and illness? Fat chance. It was the only way to live back then, and it was every bit like to her use any angle possible to get her way.
Itâs what made her such an interesting contestant for reality television. Meow, hiss. Use âem, wreck âem, leave âem.
Finishing her drink, Cindy definitely took this chance to order another. Bring it on, and donât skimp on the vermouth. They could always Uber back if need be - and if you couldnât get sloppy drunk (granted, for someone so tiny she was a powerhouse when it came to holding her liquor) discussing the sad twist of fates you got stuck with, when could you?
âI respect that mentality,â she spoke honestly. âDo whatever it takes to do to survive. For me, it was basically do whatever it takes to complete the mission - kill whoever you have to, seduce whoever you have to. I mean, I slept with Ichabod Crane because he had information I wanted. Seduction was one of my primary spy skills.â
Not so much now, but being cutthroat was how you made it. Pretty much anywhere, in this world and others.
âMy kind of girl,â Katherine purred in utter admiration - seduction was a crafty skill to have, and even she had to dabble in the art of mandatory fucks to get what she wanted. It was business. How life worked sometimes, even. âThough Iâve got no kills under my belt. Yet.â
She was joking. Promise. Maybe. âSo -â A wave of an impaled chunk of cheesecake on her fork. âWhat, does that mean youâve got all that spy-training crammed into that pretty little head of yours? You put it to any use?â
Would it revoke any sort of âspy-trainingâ to indulge her with that information? Katherine obviously didnât know protocol, but she was interested.
Before, Cindy wouldnât really have indulged anything about her career with the FBI. Sheâd been part of undercover operations for years, after all, and so that type of thing had to be kept quite hush-hush. But now, sheâd sort of transitioned to the Agency and while she sometimes acted as a liaison to the FBI, she wasnât really their âpropertyâ anymore.
âI did, though even before I started dreaming I was with the FBI for awhile,â she said - no details given, but just the vague outline, before she stuck another forkful of pie into her mouth. âNow, Iâm still with a government agency - but itâs more geared toward keeping dreamers here safe and trying to contain the weird shit that happens in the OC. It was pretty exciting in Fabletown though,â she grinned. âCrossing enemy lines during world wars - not aging meant I saw my fair share.â
Katherine swirled milky drink, sloshing the crushed ice around, and leaned back in thought. A government agency to keep this place in check made sense - otherwise itâd be a slicing and dicing fest for any scientist thinking some of these people would make prime guinea pigs for some experiments.
âThatâs noted,â she smirked a little. âRemind me to stay on your good side, Mrs. Smith. I can only hope my dreams become as epic as yours - Iâm preferring this version of Cinderella much, much more than what Disney portrays.â
âIâm sure yours will be - probably epic in that same âI canât believe this is a thingâ sort of way,â Cindy mused, with a bit of a laugh. No one dreamed of anything simple - absolutely no one. Maybe once in a blue moon, but nine times of ten memories of your other life elsewhere, in another time and place, came with its share of trauma, baggage, and painful injuries. âAnd yeah, I kind of prefer Fabletown over Disney too.â
Cinderella wasnât some down-on-her-luck servant who just so happened to fall into the arms of a handsome prince, love at first sight supposedly fixing everything. Well, for starters, the prince was shit - and her fairy godmother wasnât much to brag about either. Nice that the fairytales gave them both such a glowing, positive image - but this Cinderella made it on her own.
âStill got the pumpkin carriage and the glass slippers - but come on, knowing all about fabulous footwear just comes with the job,â she winked.
If having phantom aches from a very vivid, very gory childbirth from over yonder carried over than she could only imagine the kind of injuries that could happen - she was lucky enough to have not had her twat ripped apart again, anyway, and of course Cinderellaâs own tale of death and survival cemented it all. Talk about an incentive to leave, god.
Katherine raised her glass in the air, almost as if to give a toast. âSo glamorous that for once even Iâm a little envious. But thank you, for taking me out to gorge myself. Itâs been an educational introductory lunch-date to Shroomsville.â
It was good to get some of the venting out of her system, too. It gave her the clarity to reach out to a couple people of interest about all this and do her own investigating - because Jeremy was hiding something, and the dread in her gut told her that she was the elusive Katerina Elijah mistook Elena for in his.