(no subject)

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Time: Late afternoon, 25 July 2000
Place: The Manor Grounds
Status: Public
Summary: The Barbecue

Severus had prepared for this extensively, had done research as soon as he was told that he needed to provide food for a ‘barbecue’. Well, that was American, wasn’t it? A newly-published book titled The Great American Barbecue and Grilling Manual was his starting point. (The words ‘great’ and ‘American’ did not belong in the same sentence, although perhaps he might be mistaken, never having been to America.) After learning that this was not merely an American cuisine but a regional (Southern) American cuisine, he began to specialise. Having found a butcher to bring a pig and something to cook it over (yes, the whole pig, you dolt) he learned that it could have been done with a goat as it had been in the Caribbean, and with less effort.

Having put forth effort already, he pushed ahead. The intensive labour required to prepare food by the slow ‘barbecue’ method had been provided by Remus Lupin, although he surely did not understand when he volunteered exactly what it was he’d be doing. The butcher himself was also interested and so Snape had ‘invited’ him to come and help. Work for the day, eat. Bring your family with you and they can help and eat also. Only if they help. Severus’ labour shortage crisis solved.

The whole concept of barbecue sauce was confusing, so he’d made three kinds. Two for public consumption—a South Carolina style with mustard, vinegar and black pepper that seemed reasonable enough. Kansas City style that was thick, red-brown, and gloppy, made with a tomato base and molasses. The third was for Crowley, a Texas-style sauce amusingly named ‘Devil’s Spit’ made from a tomato base with cumin and hot chiles. These American chiles being unavailable, he procured an Oriental variety that were infinitely hotter. Let him call that bland.

Chicken would go on, although not for as long as the blasted pig, and sausages for the unadventurous. The Brunswick Stew might end up in the restaurant under ‘American Cuisine’. It was simple enough, with a tomato base, lima beans (or any beans), corn, other vegetables, and meat. Traditionally rabbit or squirrel but he could use leftover pork, chicken, beef or even cut-up sausages. Basically, a fine way to rid himself of leftover almost anything and he revised his opinion of American ingenuity. The true test would be Crowley’s opinion. If he disapproved, it was definitely going on the menu.

Okra and sweet potatoes proved impossible to procure. Field greens—of the turnip variety—were simple enough to cook in some of the extra pig fat. Black-eyed peas, which looked an awful lot like beans, with bacon. He made carrots in sauce of butter and brown sugar that seemed terribly French, but he simply shrugged. There would be green peas—not mushy, unfortunately, which would have made Crowley complain and Snape smile, a dish of fried apples that was a side dish, apparently popular with pork, and potato salad. It was a source of annoyance that the recipe he found for this called for red potatoes that did not need to be peeled. How brilliant would it have been to set Lupin to peeling potatoes for his own requested potato salad?

Cornbread was simple enough to make, although all the different names and types confused him. The concept of beaten biscuits was repulsive so he settled on cheddar biscuits instead. American biscuits, he found, were a bread roll that seemed a bizarre combination of bap, scone, and crumpet. But they were a Southern staple and very simple to make. Devilled eggs—also simple, seemingly French—were another extra dish along with pickles of varied types. He refused to make grits—porridge was bad enough at breakfast and he would certainly not serve it in any other time.

Cold tea, sweet, with or without lemon was also a disgusting concept. Lemonade, if people wished to drink it. Lupin had to deal with squeezing the lemons, too. He had procured some Bourbon and Belial would, he imagined, not object if any leftover made its way to the bar. Mint juleps required it. Mint grew in the garden and sugar was a staple.

Having no sweet potatoes with which to make sweet potato pie, which seemed unpleasant anyway, he went with pecan pie. It was too sweet, but someone would eat it. Pound cake with whipped cream (another job for Lupin) and blackberry cobbler, which was enough like local fare for people to be willing to eat it. If he could have found watermelon, that would have been amusing. But messy, so just as well he hadn’t found it.

All in all, it was a great effort on his part, slave labour or no, and people had better appreciate it else he would be extremely put out.

"Let Wensleydale handle things in the kitchen, Lupin. The butcher will take care of serving the meat. You can clear plates and make sure the dishes are all filled." He had planned this. "The butcher's wife can help with drinks. The children have been disposed of."

Out of the way, nothing more sinister. Eating now, washing dishes later. Work for food, and a good trade on his part.

"Keep an eye on the biscuits, Wensleydale, and see that they don't burn. And make sure there is plenty of ice."

He turned.

"No, mint juleps are not sweets, get away from me, you silly child." Weren't they supposed to be on the far side of the lawn, eating their supper?

Attention Edit: As of this point the Devil's Spit sauce is no longer on the serving table but in Snape's hands, doled out by him. Please do not have your character get into it.

Comments

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel's expression brightened even more at the mention of her baby. "Oh, the baby is fine," she said. "It's kicking, too, although apparently not strongly enough to feel it on the outside yet." She placed a hand lovingly on her round belly. "It's wonderful to feel it, you know. At one point I almost thought there isn't anything in there after all, but now I definitely know. Of course, the ultrasound helps too."

Her smile turned from delighted to slightly dreamy. "I can hardly wait until it's big enough for be to teach it to fly."

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"Fly? Oh, of course, fly," the Doctor said. "Yes, fly. Very nice. Has it got wings yet? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Ultrasounds of an angelic baby. Wow, that must have surprised the doctor. How did angels get pregnant, anyway? Weren't they supposed to be pure? Weren't they supposed to be male?

Hmm. Maybe that was why you never heard about pregnant angels; the Lord had taken precautions...

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"Oh, yes, it does," Uriel replied happily. She reached into her still existing pocket to get the pictures she always carried with herself. (She had managed to get them back from Loki, though she'd 'accidentally' left him one.) "It quite clearly has wings already. Of course, I managed to convince the doctor that it was just some kind of a mistake. I don't think I'll have any more ultrasounds, though," she said, a bit disappointed. "I don't want anybody labelling my child as deformed. And it's too early to tell the gender yet, so I guess I'll just have to wait until it's born to find out."

She showed him one of the pictures (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v87/Draconn_Malfoy/angelbaby.jpg). "Isn't it just adorable?" she asked.

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor had to admit it was. He wondered what it would look like when it was born; if it would have its mother's dark hair and vivid green eyes, or any of its father's features. (Who was the father, anyway?)

"I could help with the ultrasounds," his mouth said before he could stop it. Damn. "The screwdriver can do just about anything."

He was going to pull it out of his trench coat pocket and demonstrate, but it meant risking the bowl of jelly babies so he didn't. "Who's the father?" he asked casually.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"Could you really?" Uriel asked, delighted. "I'd love that."

His question, however, made her turn serious. "Nobody," she replied briefly. "Nobody as far as I'm concerned. This is my child, and mine alone. Its father will have nothing to do with it." She spread the fingers of the hand she had over her belly in a protective gesture. She would indeed protect her child from anybody and anything -- yes, even Pestilence, should the need arise. She still loved him, but her child's wellbeing was more important to her.

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"I could indeed," the Doctor replied. Drat. Now he really couldn't escape, and would feel terribly guilty if he left without helping Uriel.

He shrugged at her outburst. "Fair enough," he said. "I always find it annoying when on soaps and things men ask if the baby is theirs. Their not the ones who have to carry it and give birth, are they? Nope. That's the female's job." He patted the angel's shoulder (an angel! Of all things!). "Good on you. Paving a path for single mothers everywhere."

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel smiled a bit. "Everybody who tells me a baby has to have a father is welcome to talk with my daggers," she said. "Or, alternatively, Odin -- my other brother, that is. He seems quite convinced he's definitely enough of a male rolemodel for my child, and he doesn't take disagreements very well. If I can carry it for nine months and give birth to it, then I should definitely be able to take care of it after it's born, especially as I have two brothers to help me."

If Loki still lived when her baby was born. Except that he had to live.

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"Good on you," the Doctor repeated. "Yes, very good on you indeed."

He stopped, sweet halfway to his mouth. "Odin?" he said. Loki, Odin... and that cat-woman, she had called herself Bast, hadn't she?

Angels. Demons. And gods.

Oh my. In all seriousness this time.

"Odin's your brother?" the Doctor managed. Well, that was certainly left out of the Bible, and no mistake.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"Yes, he is my brother," Uriel replied calmly. "He adopted me as his sister. Well, actually, his brother -- around that time I still was genderless most of the time, although as I more resembled a male than a female, I was referred to as he. And, as Loki is his adopted brother, that makes Loki my brother, too. Lately, he hasn't even been protesting too much about that."

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor's expression could only really be described as wide-eyed amazement, although truthfully there was a lot more to it. It wasn't just amazement, it was mixed with the expression of one who doesn't really believe what they have heard and are having trouble getting their head around it if they do.

"Okay," he said slowly. "That's a lot of information."

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"A lot?" Uriel frowned. "I thought it was fairly simple. Is there something you don't understand? Or," she added, remembering some of his comments on the day he arrived, "something you don't believe? I'd never had a gender before I came to the Manor, you know. Right now I can't change into a male or genderless, due to my pregnancy, but in those forms I'm quite a bit taller. And less feminine-looking, I've been told."

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

"I believe you, alright," the Doctor answered. I think. Oh, I wish I didn't; that would make this all the more simple. "And I might understand. You were an angel - an asexual angel, but looked mostly male - and somehow you became pregnant and can't turn back until the baby's born. I can understand the basics, I just..."

He looked up at the sky. For once, the British sky was not clouded over with rain, but bright and blue. "It's hard when you find your whole way of thinking was, to all intents and purposes, wrong."

He smiled weakly at Uriel. "I just need to think about this."

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Now, Uriel smiled. "It might be a lot to take in at once," she said. "Believe me, it took me quite some time to accept. I'd spent six thousand years not thinking of myself in terms of gender, and suddenly was I not only stuck in one gender, but also pregnant."

She laughed now, with the slightest edge of mania in her laughter. "It's a good thing I never was entirely sane, or it would have driven me crazy for sure."

[tardis-lord.livejournal.com]

The Doctor returned the smile, if a little faintly. "We're all mad here," he said softly.

He nodded towards the bowl. "Thanks for the jelly babies, Uriel. I mean it when I say they're the best I've ever had."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, smiled again at the angel, and went to find a quiet spot where he could sit down and think about all this.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"You're quite welcome," Uriel replied, smiling. She then watched quietly as he walked away.

Then, she giggled. He had looked so very confused!

She would probably need her pills before the day was over. Right now, however, she decided to enjoy for a bit the thrill of mania.

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

After wandering around for a bit, Bast decided that the greasy-hair guy that stank of chemicals and cooking did not have and would not give her a straw. Her tail was still twitching from her goodbye to John. Why had she done that? And why was she still thinking about it? A year or so ago, she would've give him more than that and walked away without thinking about except to maybe gloat slightly. It must be the new shape - what was it that writer guy had said? 'If cat and man were to be mixed, it would improve the man, but degrade the cat.' If only he knew...

As she sat down on the spot that the screwdriver-guy had recently vacated, she noticed that angel was giggling. And not a good giggle, either.

//Uriel?// She asked cautiously. //Are you okay?//

She ran a quick mental check. The baby was fine. Must be something else, then.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel glanced at Bast. "Oh, I'm perfect," she replied, still giggling. "Perfectly okay. Perfectly happy, too."

She grinned. "I'm manic. Or hypomanic, at the very least. And I feel so perfectly, completely happy!" She spread her arms, turning her gaze to the sky. "I feel like flying," she said cheerfully. "I would too, if I were a bit further gone. Do me a favour, okay?" Looking at Bast, she cocked her head to side, forcing herself to take control of herself again. "If I spread my wings, grasp them. Cling to them, cling to me, do anything you can to stop me from flying. Right now I don't want to get my baby hurt, but a bit more manic I may not even care."

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

Bast nodded. //Sure thing.//

It'd be her first instinct, anyway - feathers moving = grab and pin. Possibly bite and pull a few out, too, but hopefully things wouldn't get that bad.

//Were are your pills?//She asked. She'd seen the angel taking them occasionally, out of the corner of her eye, and now she actually understood what they were for.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"I don't know!" replied Uriel, cheerful as ever. "Oh, wait, actually I do. They are in my room on the table. I probably should go and get them, but I can't be bothered just yet." She frowned. "Too bad I can't summon them like my sword. It'd be much easier that way."

[first-catwoman.livejournal.com]

And now Bast was torn. She knew Uriel needed those pills - and she couldn't just conjure them from thin air like some - but long years watching Horus's sanity crumble before her eyes made her know that she couldn't just leave the angel on her own like this. Who knew what she would do. She looked about - the nearest person seemed to be the pinstripe-suit guy who now seem to be talking to a black-robed skeleton. As she had thought before, he made her nervous, for some undifinable reason. But he seemed to have gotten on well enough with Uriel, and any port in a storm...

//Hey!// She called softly, aiming for his mind - funky thing, all stormy greys and gold light. //You! Come over here a second, please!//