Fic: "Raspberry Swirl"
Oct. 10th, 2010 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
circ_bambooTitle: Raspberry Swirl
Summary/Prompt: Something with Cait and that sangria and some heinously rich baked goods would be awesome. Ship of your choice or gen, either way.
Pairing: Cait/Phil
Rating: PG-13ish?
Content Advisory: This fic is not vegan, vegetarian, low-calorie, low-fat, or gluten-free.
Word Count: 600
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
boosette: shameless, fluff-tastic food porn. :) It sort of fits into a "***" section in my ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
oc_bigbang but that won't be posted until later, so it's just a random interlude on earth. Title shamelessly filched from Tori Amos. Also: brownie recipe, sangria recipe.
Phil came into the kitchen, attempting to flatten his hair into something resembling order. Cait was standing at the counter, mixing what looked like melted chocolate into a pile of flour. It smelled amazing, though--chocolate, vanilla, and, if he wasn't mistaken, coffee. (And he was rarely mistaken about coffee.) "What are you making?" he asked.
Cait looked up. "Phil, I'm pretty sure that is the ugliest bathrobe in the galaxy."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not wearing it to seduce you, Cait." That cat was pretty firmly out of the bag, considering how they'd spent all of last night. And the early part of that morning. Also, all she was wearing was one of his old Starfleet Medical t-shirts. "Cake?"
"No, brownies," she said. "Double-chocolate espresso brownies."
He reached around her, stuck his index finger in the batter, ignoring her indignant, "Hey!" and dabbed it onto her neck, exposed when she'd tied her hair up in anticipation of cooking. He licked the chocolate off of her skin, sucking briefly to make sure he'd gotten all of it.
She shivered, but reached back and smacked him on the arm. "You're lucky I haven't showered yet."
Yes. Yes, he was. "You still smell like us," he said, inhaling.
Cait sighed, but elbowed him until he gave her a little more room. Spreading the brownie batter out in a pan, she popped it in the oven and set the timer.
"What's all this for?" he asked.
She gave him a look. "Chris and One are coming by this afternoon. I thought I'd cook."
"Oh." He'd thought when she said she'd cook that perhaps she'd throw something on the grill and order in the rest, but he did have a decent kitchen. "So what are we having?"
"Brownies, of course. In the fridge I've got some cilantro-lime chicken marinating, and I have to make the mango salsa later. You can toss together a salad just before they get here--" She grinned at him. "--and there's chips and regular salsa--probably not hot enough for Chris and his Southwestern taste buds, but it'll do for the rest of us. I've got zucchini and squash; they'll be roasted after the brownies are done. Oh." She pointed to a pile of various fruits and bottles on the counter. "And I have to mix the sangria now, so it'll have enough time to chill."
"Sounds good," he said, sliding one hand up her thigh to her hip. Damn. She'd put on underwear under the shirt.
Cait laughed, shook his hand off, and started slicing the fruit and throwing it in a large pitcher he didn't recognize. Once she'd gotten through a lemon, a peach, and a handful of strawberries, she opened up the clamshell holding the raspberries and threw it in wholesale. He made disappointed noises, and she reached in, pulled one out, and held it out to him.
"I'd rather eat it out of your navel," he said, and watched her pupils suddenly dilate. Instead, she placed it on her tongue and leaned forward.
He leaned in to meet her, touching his lips to hers and taking the raspberry with his tongue. He bit into it, even while their mouths were still sealed together, the sweet-tart juice flooding his mouth, and opened up to let her lick the juice off of his tongue.
A long, raspberry-flavored moment later, she broke away and said throatily, "I have to finish this."
"And then what?" he asked.
"And then we have about forty-five minutes until the brownies are done." She grinned, and he smiled back.
"Okay."
Summary/Prompt: Something with Cait and that sangria and some heinously rich baked goods would be awesome. Ship of your choice or gen, either way.
Pairing: Cait/Phil
Rating: PG-13ish?
Content Advisory: This fic is not vegan, vegetarian, low-calorie, low-fat, or gluten-free.
Word Count: 600
Notes: For
boosette: shameless, fluff-tastic food porn. :) It sort of fits into a "***" section in my oc_bigbang but that won't be posted until later, so it's just a random interlude on earth. Title shamelessly filched from Tori Amos. Also: brownie recipe, sangria recipe.Phil came into the kitchen, attempting to flatten his hair into something resembling order. Cait was standing at the counter, mixing what looked like melted chocolate into a pile of flour. It smelled amazing, though--chocolate, vanilla, and, if he wasn't mistaken, coffee. (And he was rarely mistaken about coffee.) "What are you making?" he asked.
Cait looked up. "Phil, I'm pretty sure that is the ugliest bathrobe in the galaxy."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not wearing it to seduce you, Cait." That cat was pretty firmly out of the bag, considering how they'd spent all of last night. And the early part of that morning. Also, all she was wearing was one of his old Starfleet Medical t-shirts. "Cake?"
"No, brownies," she said. "Double-chocolate espresso brownies."
He reached around her, stuck his index finger in the batter, ignoring her indignant, "Hey!" and dabbed it onto her neck, exposed when she'd tied her hair up in anticipation of cooking. He licked the chocolate off of her skin, sucking briefly to make sure he'd gotten all of it.
She shivered, but reached back and smacked him on the arm. "You're lucky I haven't showered yet."
Yes. Yes, he was. "You still smell like us," he said, inhaling.
Cait sighed, but elbowed him until he gave her a little more room. Spreading the brownie batter out in a pan, she popped it in the oven and set the timer.
"What's all this for?" he asked.
She gave him a look. "Chris and One are coming by this afternoon. I thought I'd cook."
"Oh." He'd thought when she said she'd cook that perhaps she'd throw something on the grill and order in the rest, but he did have a decent kitchen. "So what are we having?"
"Brownies, of course. In the fridge I've got some cilantro-lime chicken marinating, and I have to make the mango salsa later. You can toss together a salad just before they get here--" She grinned at him. "--and there's chips and regular salsa--probably not hot enough for Chris and his Southwestern taste buds, but it'll do for the rest of us. I've got zucchini and squash; they'll be roasted after the brownies are done. Oh." She pointed to a pile of various fruits and bottles on the counter. "And I have to mix the sangria now, so it'll have enough time to chill."
"Sounds good," he said, sliding one hand up her thigh to her hip. Damn. She'd put on underwear under the shirt.
Cait laughed, shook his hand off, and started slicing the fruit and throwing it in a large pitcher he didn't recognize. Once she'd gotten through a lemon, a peach, and a handful of strawberries, she opened up the clamshell holding the raspberries and threw it in wholesale. He made disappointed noises, and she reached in, pulled one out, and held it out to him.
"I'd rather eat it out of your navel," he said, and watched her pupils suddenly dilate. Instead, she placed it on her tongue and leaned forward.
He leaned in to meet her, touching his lips to hers and taking the raspberry with his tongue. He bit into it, even while their mouths were still sealed together, the sweet-tart juice flooding his mouth, and opened up to let her lick the juice off of his tongue.
A long, raspberry-flavored moment later, she broke away and said throatily, "I have to finish this."
"And then what?" he asked.
"And then we have about forty-five minutes until the brownies are done." She grinned, and he smiled back.
"Okay."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 04:41 pm (UTC)(Eventually there needs to be the 'how they became friends with benefits' story but for now I am FILLED WITH FOODIE GLEE ♥)
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Date: 2010-10-10 04:49 pm (UTC)*edits*
:-D
(I am torn between Cait saying, "Hey, you wanna?" and Phil shrugging and saying, "Sure, why not?" and something significantly more complicated.)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 05:03 pm (UTC)Maybe they both wind up not getting laid on a long awaited shore-leave and being mutually frustrated and sulking at one another before the "hey, you wanna?/sure, why not?" happens?
(Especially if this is post-claimed, because Pike/One getting more action that they are just rubs salt in the wound.)
... I mean.
Um.
YAY FOOD.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 05:31 pm (UTC)(Cait slid onto the bar stool next to Phil's and signaled to the bartender. "Something. I don't care. Whatever he's drinking. Not so many olives, though." The bartender nodded and left.
Phil looked up. "Hey, Cait."
"Hey, Phil." The bartender returned with a martini, and Cait took a sizable gulp before continuing. "Damnit. Ally stood me up."
"Ally Jarvis?" Phil asked.
"Yeah, the one with the huge . . . smile." Cait smirked.
"Isn't she a little young for you?"
"No more than One is for Chris," she retorted. "Well, okay, maybe a little younger than that. But she's old enough. Trust me."
Phil rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to think about it too hard."
"What are you doing here alone?" she asked. "We're on Risa, aren't we?"
"Got stood up, too," he said, but didn't go into the details.
Cait laughed anyway. "Hell of a pair, aren't we?"
Phil quirked a half-smile.
"And it's just made worse by the fact that Chris and One finally got their shit together and are off humping like bunnies."
"I really don't want to think about that, either, Cait." He held up a finger, and the bartender brought him another martini, full of olives. He fished one out and popped it in his mouth.
"There's tons of pretty, unattached people here," she said, half to herself. "I'm sure both of us could find someone if we tried. But God, that's too much work. I was supposed to have a sure thing. A sure thing, Phil."
He shrugged again.
She finished the rest of her martini in a single swallow and turned to him, swiveling the bar stool. Suddenly her demeanor changed, from sulky and frustrated to--interested. Speculative. "Huh," she said. "You got stood up, I got stood up. Hey, Phil, you wanna?"
He turned to her, slowly. "What makes you think I like redheads?" he asked, but she saw the grin lurking around the edges of his face.
She leaned forward and kissed him, tasting of vodka and olives and salt. "Everybody likes redheads. C'mon, let's go. I bet my bed is bigger than yours."
"We'll just have to find out," he said, but stood and followed her out of the bar.)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 05:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 05:55 pm (UTC)Cait curled up against his side, warm and boneless. "Ohhh," she said. "That was so worth getting stood up. Damn, Phil. If I'd have known you were this good, I would have jumped you years ago."
Phil snorted gently, but something inside him warmed at the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself." He brushed auburn curls off her cheek.
Her comm buzzed, and she sighed. "I'm ignoring it." It buzzed again five minutes later, and she uncurled herself enough to reach the comm, flip it open, and scan the text message before flipping it shut. "Ally. Apologizing. Whatever." She set the comm down on the bedside table, and then, suddenly, picked it back up. "Wait." She flipped it open, reread the message. "She had to work?" Cait's eyes narrowed, and she looked between the comm and Phil two or three times. "You--Phil--" She set the comm down with a little more force than necessary. "You arranged this! You assigned Ally to this shift because you knew we were meeting! What the hell, Phil! All you had to do was ask!" She poked him in the chest with one finger. "And you want to know the worst part? I'm not even mad at you."
"You're not?" he said, not bothering to deny the rest of it.
"Well, maybe a little mad," she amended. "But you can make it up to me."
"Can I?" he said, and dove under the sheets.
"I didn't mean right now--ohhh, God, Phil, don't stop!"
He chuckled against her skin and didn't stop.)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 06:00 pm (UTC)YOU. YOU ARE MAKING ME SHIP IT. SO HARD.
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Date: 2010-10-10 06:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 10:24 pm (UTC)(I had a not-terribly-unexpected grocery store run in there, which resulted in eggs. Which means that I have an apple cake in the oven now!)
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Date: 2010-10-10 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 10:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 11:31 pm (UTC)*pokes at it from far away*
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Date: 2010-10-10 11:52 pm (UTC)*hates on oven*
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Date: 2010-10-10 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 12:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 12:14 am (UTC)OF CAKE.
YAY!
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Date: 2010-10-11 12:42 am (UTC)http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs887.snc4/72086_167387283276520_100000157473592_607713_3013066_n.jpg
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Date: 2010-10-11 12:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 01:00 am (UTC)(Part II is almost done.)
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Date: 2010-10-11 01:03 am (UTC)And also kdjfhaslkfjhasdlkfajdsh YAYS!
(I am doing mental health housekeeping and writing That Letter in hopes that it clears my head. Fingers crossed.)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-11 01:44 am (UTC)(*fingers crossed as well*)
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Date: 2010-10-10 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 10:24 pm (UTC)