Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Reel ❯ Chapter 4

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Kairo: Ah, the angst
Shoyko: *chases Phantomness*
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*
Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks
Chapter 4
 
So it was fine.
Red pushed all the malicious gossip people had been spreading about him and Lance - no; it wasn't true they were not a couple, just friends - out of his mind. It was just selfish to be thinking about that when his best friend was… was…
Mew, it wasn't fair! Nice people weren't supposed to die!
They were making cookies now, he had managed to get Lance out of bed - apparently Lance just stayed home now, because he didn't want to face all the popular brats and such at school, except when he went somewhere with his dragons…
It must be nice flying, even without being able to see. Lance had taken him riding on his Dragonair a few times before, and it was fun…
He emptied two cups of flour into the mixing bowl, watching as Lance stirred shortening and butter and sugar and eggs together, whipping them into a fizzy, yellow mess. He hadn't really cooked before, but he had said they could cook before his brain had caught up with him and Lance had agreed, so! Now he was stuck. But the directions seemed simple enough…
A pinch of salt, a teaspoon of vanilla, the baking powder…
“Lance, are you done with the eggs?”
The trainer half-smiled before handing over the bowl. < Yes. > Red dumped them into the blue ceramic container, grabbed the mixing spoon, and began stirring.
< Cinnamon. > Lance reminded him, as he was about to take it out. Red blushed, and hastily dumped in the cinnamon.
Then, the dough was patted into flat round shapes and into the oven, already preheated at 375 degrees.
The two of them washed their hands at the sink and then sat down on the kitchen table to wait.
 
“So um… I can understand you not going to school, but why didn't you tell me?”
Lance paused. < Red, how would you have reacted? >
“Eh…” Not very well, probably…
Lance half-smiled again. < I'm fine, you know. I've gotten used to it. >
“Well, I know the talking doesn't bother you much, since you're telepathic… I mean, Sabrina hardly talks anyways, but… but how can you stand not seeing anything?”
< I don't think about it. >
“Isn't everything dark and scary?
< I don't find darkness scary. I like the dark. I like being outdoors at night and looking at the stars…. Remember when we went stargazing a couple of years ago? >
Red smiled. “Yes. It was really pretty.”
< I guess…. I guess I just try to think of it as a night without the stars, so… it's not so bad. >
“I'm not sure I could be that brave.”
< No one's asking you to be… >
 
There was an uncomfortable pause for a moment, before Red frowned again. “You didn't bump into anything on the way here.”
< I've had almost three months to find my way around. I know where just about everything in my house is. >
“But…”
< Would you prefer I bump into things? >
“What? Of course not!” Still, if he didn't look, aside from the color difference, he really couldn't tell…
Lance's fingers drummed slightly irritably on the counter. < Red, are you afraid of me? >
“Why would I be?”
< I need to know. It's important. >
“I'm not afraid of you! I admire you and I'm slightly jealous since you're better than I am with pokemon, but I don't hate you or anything.”
< That's good. >
“We're friends!”
< Well, thank Lugia for that… >
 
He wasn't sure how to respond to that statement either. “Lance… are you angry over what I said about our,” He gulped, “Relationship?”
< You're perfectly entitled to your own opinions and I would hardly force you into something beyond friendship. >
“Oh. Good.”
He watched as Lance took out the yarn and needles again and began to knit. Click-click-click…
He had really long, thin, pale fingers.
Red was jolted out of his musings when the kitchen timer rang. He hurriedly went to check on their cookies, grabbing the oven mitts (patterned with dragon scales) as he passed the counter.
Small puffs of steam rose from pale brownish white poufs, along with the hazy scent of cinnamon and sugar.
“Lance?”
< What is it? >
“How do I know if they're done?”
An amused chuckle sounded in his mind. < Take a toothpick out and stick it into one of the ones in the middle. If it comes out clean, we're good. >
“Okay!”
 
He obeyed the instructions, found the toothpick a bit crumbly, and let the cookies sit for two more minutes.
Then, he took out the tray and put it on the table. Lance gave a mental yelp.
“What's wrong? Are they burned?”
< Red, you just set a metal tray on a wooden table. Said metal tray has been heated at approximately three hundred and seventy five degrees. What do you think that would do to the table? >
Red eeped and quickly yanked the tray off, but there was a giant charcoal mark the exact shape and size of the tray left behind. “Oops.”
 
< Dishrags should be hanging on the rack to the left of the sink. >
“Okay…”
He set the tray on the counter - it was white ceramic, and wouldn't get damaged - he hoped! Then, he began scrubbing at the stain. It took almost ten minutes to get most of it off, but some spots still remained… oh well.
He'd tried…
 
However, the cookies themselves weren't disappointing. They were so hot he burned his tongue when he first grabbed one off the baking sheet, but really, yum! He ate six before he realized what he was doing. Oh well.
Lance didn't seem to mind, and the cooking had been kind of fun…
Maybe they could do it again?
 
End Chapter
Completed 7/2/05
Yay for me! My knives came in the mail today! ^^