[So, he saw that FAQ, and he thought it was a great idea and very useful and helpful and all the things that are just generally great to have. But considering the last conversation he had of any real length with Kate Bishop involved him doing everything in his power to be absolutely useless in an effort to help out nobody, it seemed a little unfitting for him to comment with that much. It also seemed unfitting for him to show up at a party, no matter the situation. He's a pretty big drag on a good day. Better off for everyone if he doesn't make an appearance. And last time he was all up in the grill of Southern seafood. Now he's pretty much falling back on a stint of vegetarianism, not just because of meat that isn't what it's said to be.
So what's to be done about this?
Vegetarian gumbo?
Ugh no.
Clearly the fallback here is dessert, even though birthday cake has probably already been had. Actually, the fallback is probably something like a gift card, he's just thinking of food since that was the last thing the two of them discussed. Totally no other reason his first thought was "cook something that's exactly what it says on the tin."
So after much deliberation (and spouting off her name to Clark Kent in an attempt to get his own ass out of something) on his end, Will ends up doing the only safe thing he can think of: sweet potato pie.
And that's the night he ended up putting the "Christ" in "Christmas" because he sure did swear up a storm.
He doesn't want a conversation, he wants the opposite of a conversation. So what does he do? He has it delivered to the address she gave him their last conversation with special instructions for no jokes about ChristmasGraham to be made. The pie itself is in box wrapped in green paper with black dog prints all over it, a postcard between the wrapping and the box itself. There is no name attached, but he figures maybe, just maybe, the fact that it's covered in dogs is something of a clue. There's also the fact of the matter that he did it all himself, so if her special touch power is still a thing, she won't need a name, right?
The memories associated with it being a few choice swears, frequent thoughts about how everything in this pie was organic and fresh, a longing for home in the way that someone else could have made this better than him and he hadn't seen that specific person in years, the fact that he dropped the nutmeg shaker in the process and feared he was going to spill it all on the floor, should he make another one for the house, a dog getting in the way, multiple raccoons getting in the way, and an underlying apologetic feeling of this is the best I can do and it's just a pie but it's sweet potato pie so it'll be fine! Basically a baking session with someone who hadn't baked in a while...and had raccoons in the house who weren't pests.
Naturally.
The postcard has a stupid fishing reference in the writing, of course.
Hope your party went swimmingly. Happy birthday, Kate.
There is no apology on the card, but there's something sorry about it.
Other than it being a damn postcard instead of a birthday card and it's a late fake birthday card that doesn't even the common decency to say as much with a "Happy belated birthday" instead. At least the pie itself isn't a sorry, sad thing. It's not going to win any awards at a festival, but it's good enough for a holiday table.]
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selfequipped) wrote2014-02-10 02:43 pm
12/23/2014 or 12/22/2014 WHICHEVER WORKS BEST
So what's to be done about this?
Vegetarian gumbo?
Ugh no.
Clearly the fallback here is dessert, even though birthday cake has probably already been had. Actually, the fallback is probably something like a gift card, he's just thinking of food since that was the last thing the two of them discussed. Totally no other reason his first thought was "cook something that's exactly what it says on the tin."
So after much deliberation (and spouting off her name to Clark Kent in an attempt to get his own ass out of something) on his end, Will ends up doing the only safe thing he can think of: sweet potato pie.
And that's the night he ended up putting the "Christ" in "Christmas" because he sure did swear up a storm.
He doesn't want a conversation, he wants the opposite of a conversation. So what does he do? He has it delivered to the address she gave him their last conversation with special instructions for no jokes about ChristmasGraham to be made. The pie itself is in box wrapped in green paper with black dog prints all over it, a postcard between the wrapping and the box itself. There is no name attached, but he figures maybe, just maybe, the fact that it's covered in dogs is something of a clue. There's also the fact of the matter that he did it all himself, so if her special touch power is still a thing, she won't need a name, right?
The memories associated with it being a few choice swears, frequent thoughts about how everything in this pie was organic and fresh, a longing for home in the way that someone else could have made this better than him and he hadn't seen that specific person in years, the fact that he dropped the nutmeg shaker in the process and feared he was going to spill it all on the floor, should he make another one for the house, a dog getting in the way, multiple raccoons getting in the way, and an underlying apologetic feeling of this is the best I can do and it's just a pie but it's sweet potato pie so it'll be fine! Basically a baking session with someone who hadn't baked in a while...and had raccoons in the house who weren't pests.
Naturally.
The postcard has a stupid fishing reference in the writing, of course.
Hope your party went swimmingly. Happy birthday, Kate.
There is no apology on the card, but there's something sorry about it.
Other than it being a damn postcard instead of a birthday card and it's a late fake birthday card that doesn't even the common decency to say as much with a "Happy belated birthday" instead. At least the pie itself isn't a sorry, sad thing. It's not going to win any awards at a festival, but it's good enough for a holiday table.]