by P. S. Power
“Sorry, you scared me a bit there. Real issues with pedos and protecting girls from them. I failed at that growing up way too much. I don't want to go into that, but never do that again, alright? You're not stupid, I shouldn't have said it that way, but it's taking time for me to learn not to be a jerk to everyone when I get scared and you kind of freaked me out.”
The girl stood back somberly and made a real effort to not touch him again. She fidgeted and moved fast enough that a gentle breeze came from her constantly however. A warm one. The girl had to run a good bit hotter than a regular person and at the moment, after all the effort of trashing the room she had to be hotter than normal by a good bit. Rachel touched his shoulder gently and smiled at him.
“Thank you.” She said, her voice sensuous and smoky. Her red-brown eyes locked to his for a second and held, promising something more than just thanks if he wanted it. Denis guessed that whatever her first mode really was it kind of pushed her to be “friendly” toward almost everyone. Not a bad thing, but the day he slept with the head of the IPB's girlfriend would probably be his last. He'd pass on it. Sure he wanted her. Fuck, he wanted Bridget, if only to collect and keep in a little room as a trophy. Maybe behind glass for her own protection. Desire for things and actions toward getting them were, thankfully, different.
Brian waved at the mess.
“Have fun cleaning this up though. I'll help, but we all missed breakfast, so we came to raid the kitchen. I guess we could eat in the main room for now. This place is a mess. We aren't team one you know, this could take weeks to get fixed. No magic crew is going to just show up and do it for us I bet. Does anyone here do carpentry and furniture building as a hobby?”
Bridget looked down at least, for nearly ten seconds, then started righting chairs and trying to make a pile of things too broken to fix. It looked like a small tornado had landed in the room, almost literally. Denis looked at the walls to see if small debris had been kicked into them with enough speed to stick. Frighteningly for a soft, regular kind of guy like him, there were wood shards and a few bits of metal sticking out in places. It made him glad that they hadn't killed Clark at least. He kind of liked living for now.
The kitchen raid worked well enough, sandwiches and some corn chips. Nothing fancy, PB&J on wheat bread. Mark made some every other day or so and they wouldn't be getting another meal before dinner most likely. They had some ice tea too. Way too much sugar in it for Denis, so he just had water after the first sip. Bridget and Rachel sucked the stuff down like it was manna from heaven though. Being so metabolically hot made them into high eaters, like Argos. That probably meant they should get them in for the show, have them eat a whole large cake each or something. It could make an interesting gimmick Denis decided, wondering if the show would ever really do anything like that.
The whole thing took him until nearly eleven-thirty, so he decided to go and wait for everyone else in the kitchen area of the show, the real one behind the fake kitchen set. The whole thing was a clean and shining steel, not warm looking, but tidy. Then, it had only been used a few times. Not hard to keep new stuff looking new after all. In the walk-in cooler there were already several dishes prepared and waiting, and a giant pot sat covered on the counter. What the different things were he just didn't know.
At ten till noon everyone else walked in as a group. Mark smiled when he saw him waiting.
“Den! Good to see you. Didn't know if you'd be around really, with the arm and all. Scott's doing dishes for us, so you can just do your segment with the hot chocolate. I have the recipe and instructions for you. I'd like you to make three batches of it. The first to make sure you can do it right, the second so that we can chill it for the show and the third on air. Normal stuff.” A printed piece of paper jumped into his hand suddenly, making Denis start a little.
Three batches?
And he was still supposed to do the segment? Really Denis had figured they'd snap up Prime for it, to tell the truth.
The recipe nearly made him blanch. This wasn't exactly Swiss Miss cocoa. No, he could open a packet and add hot water, no problem. This had lightly beaten heavy cream, sugar and real chocolate that had to be melted first as well as whole milk and real vanilla scraped out of a bean. The directions wouldn't have been hard, except that he didn't know what a double-boiler even was, much less how to make one and when he asked Kerry in a low voice she laughed at him.
“Just get a big pot and boil water in it, then use a smaller pot that will sit in the water to melt the chocolate. You're using dark right?”
As if he had a choice? The chocolate came in large bricks that must have weighed fifty pounds each, wrapped in a shiny gold foil. Kerry was using some herself, so showed him how to chop it into smaller bits before melting. It took an hour to get the first batch done and it tasted a little off to him. Too... bitter? Mark agreed and suggested a little more sugar in the mix. Not a lot, he said, almost as if meditating on the idea, since they weren't supposed to be making a dessert, but a deep chocolate drink that would complement éclairs and torts. Those would be sweet enough, they all assured him.
The second batch was better, huge, about three gallons worth, which kind of stressed him out. What if he burnt it or something? Thankfully that didn't happen. Then, just because there was an hour left to kill, Mark yelled at him to whip some cream and chill it for the show, calling out instructions as he worked on his own project set up. Then Kerry had him shaving milk chocolate off of a block for decorations. That took work, his splinted arm making the whole thing both painful and harder to manage than it should have been.
That done, just as the crew came in, Denis ran to the restaurant to see what Jan had set up for them. It was... magnificent. The woman had two silver rolling carts, each covered with a rich looking deep red cloth and gold colored containers on the top. There wasn't that much food, as she'd promised, but the drinks looked amazing, Colored bottles of flavoring sat in a rainbow row along the back of the first, with coffee, seltzers and even juice ready to go. There was water too, but the glasses looked like fine crystal instead of paper this time. Each cart even had a flower arrangement. The white clad woman helped him move them in carefully which got Warren to walk over and look at the set ups appraisingly. After a second he nodded.
“Good enough. We should have chipped ice too, not just crushed... and possibly shaved, given the array of flavors here.” The man turned without saying more and left without another glance or word of praise.
“Ouch.” Denis said looking at her carefully, hoping it wouldn't be too big a deal for her.
Jan just shook her head.
“He's right. I got busy so I cut corners on it. Sorry. I promise to do better next time.”
Beardo the cameraman was back, something that Denis hadn't been sure of at all. Gary, he thought, trying to remember as he saw the man and waved.
“Hey! Good to see you back... Um, feel alright? I mean do you need anything to feel comfortable here? We have drinks, food and stuff this time, real stuff, not just my feeble attempts.” He pointed at the tables getting a pleased grunt from the man.
“I'm good so far. I may have a coffee later. Kind of had a rough night with the wife. She didn't want me to come back here, but in this economy a guy can't be too picky about where he works. Just make sure I get home alright? She'd kick my ass if I died today.” The guy chuckled but Denis turned and saw Prime walking out, pans and pots already cleaned, thanks to greater than normal speed and strength, so he called him over.
“Scott? This is Gary,” Denis said watching the man for correction, nothing came so he hoped that meant that was right.
“If anything happens today will you make a point of protecting him? He promised his wife that he'd be home safe and I figure that if anyone can make sure that happens, you can.”
“Of course I can! Surprising that no one thought to ask me yet really. Don't worry Gary, if anything happens I'm here for you.” If over-confidence could have been bottled, Prime could have sold the
stuff by the gallon, still, the camera guy looked... relieved. When the most popular super-hero in the world said he'd guard you personally, it kind of tended to set a person's mind at ease, which had been what Denis had hoped for. Gary grinned.
“Thanks man. Means a lot.”
From behind them a voice came then, slightly less bitchy than at the last shoot, but still not exactly sweet. Darla the Director.
“Denny! Good. Be a lamb and get me a coffee? Skim milk, Splenda and just off room temperature? Sweet if you can. Thanks doll.” Her tone sounded bored with the topic by the time she got to the last word and she stopped paying attention to him at all.
At least she hadn't called him boy. The “Denny” bugged him a bit, but that got fixed almost instantly, when Mark showed up and spoke a few words to the woman as Denis got her order ready. He didn't even spit in it, or feel like torturing her into submission. Much. In all Den felt like he might be improving in the whole attitude department. Maybe. Mark informed her that Denis would be having a regular spot on the show and that he didn't like to be called Denny.
That the man added in the whole abusive childhood reasoning for that could have been skipped, as far as he was concerned, but the woman didn't mess up again. It was kind of amazing that Mark knew that whole story, since Denis hadn't told him, but after a second he got it. Karen. She'd want to make sure no one messed up and accidentally hurt his feelings, so she'd probably “explained” the whole thing to half the base by now. Well, fair enough, Mark was on every team he was after all, so if anyone should know the back story...
“Thanks Den. I didn't know you were talent too. You certainly have the looks. Maybe not for prime time, but for a cooking show definitely. So what's the angle for your bit?”
Mark smiled peacefully and winked slowly at the woman.
“Each week we set Denis a task and then let hilarity ensue. That or he gets it right and we heap praise upon him. Either way we win.”
“Brilliant! Everyone loves to watch other people fail. That's half of reality television right there. Now all we need is some faked up dramatic tension and we'll have the whole package. Hard to top a terrorist attack though. Maybe a love triangle?” The woman gave Denis an approving nod though and sipped the coffee once before handing it back.
“More Splenda please Den. Maybe a touch lighter too?”
Right. He should have known. The coffee came back three more times until he loaded about half a cup with the artificial sweetener, poured it two thirds full with milk and barely flavored it with coffee. Then she acted like he'd handed her the holy grail.
“Perfect! Well, do that well on camera and we won't have an issue.” Her face looked... nearly as greedy as his probably did most the time, except that the woman stared right at him. If he really did look like that no wonder people didn't like him.
It was creepy. It left him feeling a bit... dirty. Used.
The show itself went well. Instead of ordering Prime out of the shot all the time, the woman decided to try something new and add text to the screen pointing him out every time he got his face in front of the camera when he wasn't supposed to. Denis got through the hot chocolate segment trying to maintain a serious demeanor while everyone else called out suggestions to him, sometimes contradictory ones. He just listened to Mark until the very end, rolling his eyes and mugging slightly for the camera when people said things to obviously mess him up. When he broke out the heavy whipped cream and needed help from Kerry to put it in a wax paper bag to dispense so that it wouldn't look like crap, he made a giant mess of it. Twice, before he managed to get it right. Everyone laughed at him over it, especially the first time when the bag virtually exploded all over the counter. Kerry had been watching closely and he really wasn't certain she hadn't used her powers to make it happen. Clark was good at lifting heavy things, true, but Kerry was able to make almost anything happen, if she had time. Scowling he handed out cups of the beverage to every one of the on-camera people, each decorated with a light dusting of milk chocolate shavings.
They did seem to like it. Then, fat, sugar and chocolate, what wasn't to like?
They had to feed all the stuff to someone, so they pulled in a few people, like Christian, an older black man named Martin Joabs from the front office who was the third in command of the IPB it turned out and Jan from the restaurant, who liked most of the offerings, but criticized them each as if she were a professor at a cooking school. Poor Kerry got the worst of it, since éclairs were pretty much just fancy donuts. Jan apparently didn't think that should be the case at all.
“The Bavarian filling is nice enough, but should be cooler for best presentation. The pastry itself is well done, but the topping is a bit pedestrian. Your finish on it... Well I've seen the same in donut shops. Presentation is important Kerry. It's what makes the difference between top of the line and just so-so food about half the time.”
For half a second the plain girl looked like she might cry over it, which made the Director look way more eager than she should. It was just a cooking show, not some reality TV farce. Denis propped the girl up a bit, confidence and a calm acceptance. Almost a meditative state. It kind of surprised him that he managed it on the fly. It was easier to put out something positive than discomfort or negative emotions. That was something he'd never noticed before. Then he'd rarely used his power for anything positive either.
“Alright. I can see that, compared to what everyone else did, it's not great. Well, darn my two year degree anyway! I'll do better.” Her firm nod looked cute. Competent and relaxed.
Everyone smiled at her then, including Jan who suddenly seemed relieved that the girl wasn't going to be too down about her critique. Or possibly make her head explode.
It could have been that one too.
The critique she gave Denis was nearly as rough. He grabbed a pad and paper and took notes on what she said, which got a laugh too, but he was serious, actually paying attention. Denis knew that he had a lot to learn. More than anyone else, including Scott, who turned out to be pretty solid in the kitchen for some reason. She found the drink nice enough, but a little too bland. Spices could help, some cinnamon perhaps. His presentation got a “C”.
“I know that you used real whipped cream, but it looks like you secretly dragged in a can of Reddi-wip when no one was looking. The milk chocolate dusting is too coarse and changes the texture of the whole thing. A beverage like this should be smooth, not have lumps all over the top. Chill the chocolate and use a rasp next time, not a cheese grater.” Her voice never left academic at least.
Jan made fun of his presentation too, the way he'd done the actual show, and suggested he actually come up with a plan next time instead of just doing it on the fly.
She drank all her chocolate though. Since it was cool it basically made it a really thick chocolate milk. Martin didn't finish his, but everyone else did. Even Chris which surprised him. She seemed like the type that wouldn't want to risk the extra calories. They rarely saw her at meals, but then, she could have been avoiding the people, with all their pesky thoughts, not the food at all.
Christian just told everyone how “splendid” everything was and Martin Joabs made polite comments that sounded like he didn't like chocolate at all, but refused to spit food out on camera. It worked well enough Denis thought. Better than if they all gushed and raved. This way it seemed real.
This time they got through the whole thing without incident, which all things considered made for a decent end to the day. They finished too late for dinner, but Warren just led them all into the restaurant and made them all specialty dishes himself. Denis tried the chocolate chicken pastry that the man had concocted for the show, trying to be daring. It really was good. Excellent in fact. Who knew that that would even work at all? Vinegar, sugar and cocoa on chicken? It sounded horrible. Well, learn something new each day.
“Next time we should make ice cream and maybe some waffle cones... Or, is that not baking enough?” Denis said, remembering a little shop he used to g
o to that had a machine for it. It didn't look that hard really.
Mark looked at Warren and nodded.
“Yeah. You can do those. We need a theme. I was thinking reductions. That OK with everyone?”
Kerry just nodded and Warren looked like a little kid promised candy. Denis had to ask what those were, which got a laugh from the others.
“Syrups made from juices. You gently evaporate the excess water from them, making them thicker.” Mark told him, not unkindly.
“Ah.” Of course. It made perfect sense now that it was explained.
Denis wondered if an apple-spice reduction was possible, which he could use for the ice cream? Or as a topping for it. Mark nodded along as he spoke and wrote things down, and Warren suggested he play with some recipes before the next episode. A berry syrup could be interesting too.
After dinner they all went their separate ways, which for him meant back to his room, of course. No money after all. He changed quickly and headed to the gym, which got him there in time to see a group of people practicing unarmed combat, a lot of them were from team two it looked like. Denis just jogged, slowly, right arm tight to his side for stability, glad that he wasn't in that group. Or he was until Marcia called him over.
“Denis. Good of you to join us, you know Hobbs here now, right?” She clearly knew that from the way she spoke. A polite formality.
“I want you to work with him from now on. He won't be out on crowd control, but we may have some side projects for you both. Hobbs, mind the dislocated elbow, the right one. I'll leave the rest up to you.” Then she just walked away, over to Brian, who she tried to hit several times, very fast. Without any warning at all. Yi put up a better than decent fight. Not as good as she was maybe, but really solid, if the six week course Denis had taken on basic self-defense meant he could judge anything. Hobbs followed his eyes and then bowed to him, folding in the middle a bit.
