puckandpie | (no subject)

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derek

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I've been baking for days.

Not that I'm complaining! It's just that I've never had a call for pies quite this high before and making sure I get them all done on time without sacrificing quality or taking up too much of the space in Semele's kitchen has been something of a challenge.

It's fun though. Especially today when I'm working on finalizing the final few pies. I made sure I got the two pumpkin pies done yesterday, along with the butterscotch meringue and sweet potato, and they're all chilling in the huge fridge at the moment. I finished up the maple syrup pie about an hour ago and am throwing together the chocolate peanut butter pie now while one of the two apple pies bakes in the oven.

The whole kitchen smells amazing, apple and cinnamon spices mixing in with the turkey Derek has roasting and my stomach is already rumbling in excitement for all the food we have in store.

I made a playlist for my iPod a few days ago entitled Thanksgiving Jams! and filled it with songs I'm at least reasonably sure Derek might actually like as well as a few that has him rolling his eyes as I start singing and dancing along.

My feet are actually getting a little sore, but it's easy enough to ignore with Derek smiling beside me, occasionally reaching over to steal a chocolate chip or two.

"You're going to ruin your appetite before the dinner even starts," I tell him, thwacking him lightly on the back of the hand even as I can't stop smiling. "And after all this work, you'd better have enough room in your belly for at least a few slices of pie, mister."

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"My appetite is endless," Derek tells him, winking as he dumps a handful of chocolate chips into his mouth. He smiles as little as Bitty hits his hand, and then turns away to baste the turkey. The song changes as he's bent over the oven and his hips start to sway back and forth despite himself, and he hums under his breath as he squirts juice all over the turkey. It's starting to smell pretty good, if still a little raw, and he takes a moment to be thankful that he's good at this one thing.

He's a mess when it comes to everything else, but at least he can cook. He can provide, and that's something.

Derek turns away, his head tipped back to funnel the handful of chocolate chips into his mouth and I watch him for a few more seconds as he bends over to tend to the turkey. He's dancing very subtly to the music and I have to bite back a grin as well as the warmth in my belly.

Goodness, he just looks so good. All the time. It's wonderful and infuriating all at once.

"It's already smells amazing," I tell him, turning back to my mixing bowl. "When is everyone else supposed to get here again?"

"Mm, thanks," Derek replies, poking at the turkeys a little to check their tenderness. His hips are still swaying, and he turns his head to look at Bitty over his shoulder. "I told everyone two, so we've got a few hours still."

He straightens up and closes the oven, and then comes over and reaches out to squeeze the back of his neck briefly. Bitty has been here since basically dawn and he's so grateful for it. He smiles and pulls his hand away, nodding once before going to haul a few bags of potatoes up onto the prep table. "Hild and Thomas mentioned showing up early to help, not sure when that will be though."

Edited 2015-11-29 04:50 (UTC)

"Oh, the added help will be wonderful!"I say, tearing my gaze away from Derek's swaying hips to toss in the sugar.

His hand is warm on the back of my neck moments later and I have to actively fight the urge to shiver at his touch. It's nothing bur friendly, of course, but I still can't help wish it meant more.

Simon, I remind myself. I'm going on a date with him just a couple days. And it should be nice, should be everything I need to take my mind off Derek.

"With four of us here we shouldn't have any difficulty at all. Do you need me to start prepping some of the veggies when it gets closer? I'd be happy to! Or, oooh!" I say, glancing back at him. "I could show Thomas how to do it. It's not difficult at all and he needs to learn how to make himself something other than mac and cheese."

Bitty goes a bit still and otherwise doesn't react when Derek touches him, and Derek frowns a little until he remembers. Bitty met someone. He's going on a date. He's doing something that Derek hasn't been able to accomplish in nearly a year of being single, or at all, ever. It nearly makes him laugh, but something cold and heavy settles into his belly, and he turns away instead.

Derek swallows hard and furrows his brow, and then shakes it away and slices open a bag of potatoes with his claw. "Yeah, that sounds fine," he says after a moment, smiling a little over his shoulder.

There's something in Derek's touch that feels a little off, his hand dropping from the back of neck sooner than I'd expect.

Frowning a little, I glance over at him and try to convince myself it doesn't mean anything. I can't really think of what I might have done to upset him or push him away so recently, but it could easily just be him deciding he wants to put up new boundaries after everything that happened in that other Darrow. And I guess... well, I obviously have to respect that.

"Good, it's a plan then," I tell him, trying for my best smile before I turn back to my pie mix. "When is he starting again?"

"Soon," Derek replies, piling potatoes into a bowl so he can rinse them off. "Right after the holiday, I think."

He takes the potatoes over to the sink to rinse them off, and then lifts his head to sniff when Bitty cuts into a fresh peach. Derek turns around, watching Bitty's back as he pushes a sliced up peach to the side of his cutting board. Derek comes up behind him silently, extending two claws and striking out to stab two pieces of peach on each. He pulls his hand back with a triumphant snicker, and then pop one of the pieces into his mouth.

That is soon and I can't help but smile at the idea that Thomas will be around so much. It'll be nice for the both of them, I think. And me, of course, but admitting as much seems awfully selfish. In just over a week, I'll be starting my full-time shifts too, a fact I still haven't quite bended my mind around just yet.

I'm so lost in thought as I work that I don't even notice Derek sneaking up behind me until he's spearing a claw into my cutting board and snatching away some of my carefully sliced peaches.

"Derek-- Derek Hale!" I shout, spinning around with my knife poised threateningly. Not that I'd actually ever use it against Derek, of course, but the effect is necessary. And also probably failing given that I don't actually know Derek's middle name and I also can't quite fight the grin curving at my lips. "If you don't start behaving yourself I'm going to forbid you from having a single slice of pie until well after everyone else has had their fill. Don't you test me!"

Derek raises an amused eyebrow when Bitty turns around with the knife, and then delicately pops another slice of peach into his mouth. He laughs a little and wipes juice away from the corner of his mouth with the opposite thumb.

"I don't think so. You know how hungry I get, and you'll take pity on me." He stretches out his arm, wiggling the last peach slice where it's speared on the claw of his index finger in front of Bitty's face. "They are delicious, though. You should try one."

It's pretty impossible not to look at Derek's mouth as he chews another slice of peach and sometimes I swear he does stuff like that on purpose, like he must know how I feel and enjoy taunting me.

He's not cruel though, I know that much. He's just completely clueless.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, I turn back to my cutting board to continue slicing. "Is this what I have to look forward to when I start working more hours here?" I ask him, tossing a smirk over my shoulder. "You stealin' all my ingredients?"

"Probably," Derek says easily, giving Bitty a charming smile before going to wash his hands. He dries them off and returns to the prep table, diagonally from Bitty, and pulls the potatoes form the bowl. He grabs the peeler and uses his speed to get through a dozen of them, and then hisses when he slices the pad of his finger right off.

"Damnit," he says with a huff, more annoyed that he ruined a potato than anything. He tosses it into the trash and lets out a relieved breath when he sees that he didn't contaminate the prep table, at least. He tosses the potato peeler into the sink and holds up his hand. "I need a time out for a second."

"Oh, my goodness, Derek!"

Peaches forgotten, I'm rushing to his side in seconds, worry spiking through me when I see the trail of blood running down his hand as he holds it up and away from the table. The potato peeler lands in the sink with a tinny clunk and it's two seconds later that I remember he can heal.

Letting out a breath, I nod in agreement, my own hands too jittery to continue slicing up peaches for awhile. He'll be fine, of course, right as rain in about thirty seconds. But I still can't shake the sight of blood running down his arm.

So I grab the half bottle of wine on the counter and pop open the stopper, pouring myself a glass before taking a long, slow sip. Resting back against the counter, I let out a breath, shaking my head as I look over at Derek. "'No slicing off appendages' should be a rule," I tell him, attempting a smile through my nerves. "And it applies to everyone, even self-healing werewolves. Save us poor humans the heart attacks."

"I'll be okay," Derek assures him, chuckling fondly at his reaction. Derek washes the blood from his skin, and by the time he's done, the cut has already stopped bleeding. The pad of his thumb is already gone shiny and pink with new skin, and he flicks the water off of his hands before reaching for a paper towel to dry off.

"Even if I was human, I would have survived a cut on the thumb." He reaches out with his uninjured hand and grips the back of Bitty's neck, squeezing reassuringly. "But I'll be okay. I promise."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," I argue, watching as Derek dries off his hands. There's no sign of the blood now which is a relief and I take another breath as he steps in close enough to wrap his hand -- his other hand -- around the back of my neck.

I'm not sure how I feel about that look he's giving me, there's fondness, I think, but also something like exasperation at my overreaction. I feel more than a little bit stupid.

Frowning, I shrug and stare down at my glass. "I just don't like seeing you hurt," I tell him. "Even if I know you can heal, it's not fun to see."

Derek frowns at Bitty's reaction, and the vague scent of embarrassment coming off of him. He squeezes his neck before dropping his hand to Bitty's shoulder and giving it a little shake before letting go.

"Hey, I get that," Derek assures him. "I wouldn't want to see you hurt either."

He chuckles and gives Bitty a smile before going over to the sink and thoroughly washing the potato peeler twice before drying it off and returning to the prep table. "Now come on, we've got a lot of food to make. I'll be more careful."

I know he means it even if my worry for him isn't quite the same and I give him my own smile, weak as it may be. He turns away to rinse off the potato peeler and I let myself stare at the breadth of his shoulders, his shirt clinging to his muscles nicely.

Before he can notice my silence, I down another quick swig of wine and wipe my hands on my apron.

"That we do," I agree, turning back to my pies. "It's certainly not gonna make itself!"

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