The Apprentice (Dubois Chronicles 2.110)

DJ Dubois

January 2008

Notes Part 1: Unless otherwise noted, bracketed quotations (like so) in the story mean the dialogue is in French.

Notes Part 2: Ratatouille belongs to Disney and Pixar. Gabrielle is from "Xena Warrior Princess" which belongs to Universal and MCA. Smallville belongs to DC and the WB/CW.

Introduction

Gabrielle, Bard Queen of the Amazons, writes…..

As we grow older, we all seek to expand our horizons and prove ourselves in the world. Breaking away from parents is never an easy thing to do. I certainly discovered that when I first followed Xena away from Potadeia, leaving ruffled feelings and questions in my wake. One rarely considers all of the factors involved. Of course, one also has to balance those against the rewards as well.

One of the students, Mika Montoya, trained to be a "chef." Unlike many of her classmates in the special group, she graduated on time from the "university." Her basic preparations are done. She needs something called an "internship." (Okay, it's a chance to work with an expert in the craft. Why don't they just call it an apprenticeship then? Anyhow, gratze, Francesca.)

Mika gets to work with a unique 'master' in her summer abroad…one especially suited to her mutant talents.

Chapter 1 [La Ratatouille Café, Paris, France—April 2009]

The French capital bustled with activity on that early spring afternoon. Lovers walked hand in hand along the Seine. Tourists filled the museums and took in the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. More than a few bicycled out into the suburbs to enjoy the countryside on that sun soaked day. And, as always, all flocked to the cafes for food, snack, dessert and good coffee at the end of their day.

In one such place, high on the hill overlooking the hustle and bustle, customers occupied every table and seat, filling its dining room to the brim. Every one of their conversations was punctuated by a smile and a "mmm—magnifique!" while sampling the culinary creations in front of them.

Amazingly, one skinny young man managed the area. Constant observations coursed through the brain under his red hair as he jeted around the room on a single pair of roller skates. While usually not into details, Alfredo Linguini delighted in the happiness of the customers (and consequently, the boosting of the café's fortunes). Consequently, he did everything he could to make sure that the good mood continued. Seeing one particular patron, he applied the brakes and considered the slender gentleman. "Bon Soir, Monsieur Ego."

Anton Ego doffed his beret, allowing a smile for the eager waiter. "Bon Soir, Linguini." "It is a great night, no?"

The younger man nodded. "Yes, sir." Despite the fact that Ego was the owner and Chief Enthuastic Patron for La Ratatouille, Linguini worked himself into a tizzy to try and please him.

"Relax, my Boy. You're splendid out here. Meantime, Collette and Notre Chef work their magic in the kitchen." The tall and slender man fixed his spectacles with a deliberate air. Before he was the owner, Ego had been Paris' most exclusive food critic. Despite his recent slide in credibility, he still respected his palate and the fine dining atmosphere.

"Th…thank you," Linguini answered hesitantly while picking up his pad and pen. "Would you like a minute?" He could see two other tables needing attention.

Ego nodded while considering the menu. One thing he appreciated about Linguini—while he was usually a klutz and an absolute disaster in the kitchen during his brief tenure as a cook—the boy certainly knew hospitality.

The waiter went off to help the other customers, getting their orders to the kitchen before returning to Ego's table. "Anything look good?"

Ego shrugged. "Everything Notre Chef cooks is great, my Boy. I will do the Lamb Ronçeval please."

Linguini smiled at his patron's choice, loving the dish himself. He scribbled down a few notes and rocketed back off for the kitchen. So as not to disturb the crew, he eased past the doors and placed Ego's order in the circular holder. "Lamb for Mr. Ego, Collette, please."

The sight of the kitchen would have stunned most other people. Beside himself, only a slender raven haired woman in her twenties would have been recognizable as "human". In addition, several rats curiously worked at strategically placed posts around the chamber. On the shelf above a soup pot, a gray haired rat with a small chef's hat threw spices and seasonings into that mix, seeking as always to create the perfect appetizer.

"He wants the lamb. Of course, he wants the lamb! Merde!" Collette Tatou groused. While she genuinely liked and appreciated their patron, the dinner rush's stress brought out the little militant in her—curse words and all. She sped up her chopping, dumping some shallots in a frying pan.

"It's okay. Everyone's happy out there. You and Little Chef are the artists. They appreciate you," he insisted.

She snorted. "Oui." Wheeling around, she sliced the last piece of lamb off of the bone in the dish and placed some potatoes in another pan. "We are out of it already! Sacre Bleu!" She bit her lip.

The rat-chef in the corner turned at that comment and squeaked briefly. Seeing how frustrated she was getting, he motioned to the waiter with his head and then to his partner.

Linguini got the point. He rubbed her shoulder. "You and Little Chef can do it. Two best chefs in Paris, remember?" He kissed her cheek before heading to the cooler. A minute later, he came back with a rack of lamb albeit a little too quickly.

Collette stopped him before he could crash into her counter. "Merci." She smiled back at him—a rarity especially given the hour and circumstances. "And we are doing it. All of us." She looked at their pint sized partner. "Is that not right, Mon Chef?"

The rat-chef nodded. While he couldn't speak, Remy did understand French, Italian (and some English) thanks to his reading and observation of the humans around himself. He motioned to the oregano.

"Oui," she concurred, heading for the lamb. As she fixed it, she requested, "Let him know his lamb will be ready shortly. We will continue the other matter later, no?" She allowed a brief warm glimpse from her eyes before the militant look returned.

Linguini left quickly.

She sighed, wondering how they would keep the café running if not for Remy's family helpers. "We appreciate the help, Mon Chef. I meant what I said to him about you."

Remy smiled and nudged some sage toward her.

"A partner after my own heart. Merci," she expressed. Not for the first time did she appreciate Remy's talent for creativity or his ability to keep the ship afloat. She sighed, wishing they could talk to the rat-chef. For the previous two months since Linguini's stand at Gusteau's, she had adjusted to and even appreciated their tiny companion's genius. Together, they had created at least fifteen new recipes. How I wish he could speak! What foolishness though! Animals cannot talk to humans!

[After Closing]

As with the night that he had first met Remy, Ego ate his meal and then waited until after the café had closed to speak with his three employees/partners. He of course had savored the lamb; the treat making the extra forty-five minute wait more palatable to take. Still, he wondered if having another human cook in the kitchen might make things easier for all concerned.

He'd asked Linguini to make them all some fresh coffee for the conversation.

When the trio had joined him, he adjusted his glasses. "Are you all feeling all right?"

"I am not sick if that is what you mean," she insisted.

"I knew the wait on the lamb was too long! Darn it!" Linguini chastised himself.

Remy shook his head at the red haired waiter.

"Actually, Alfredo, you have come to the issue," Ego clarified while wiping off his glasses. "You three are doing an exemplary job to keep the kitchen and the dining room running as well as it has. But…."

She narrowed her eyes. "But what?"

"But, there have been some delays. People have noticed and asked me about them. They do not question the food's quality or preparation. Just the supply…."

"Incredible!" She slammed her fist down on the table. "We do all we can, Mr. Ego. Certainly, some patience is in order to get the best food, no?"

"True. I apologize, my Dear. I was not questioning your cooking or talent. I was thinking of bringing on another chef to assist you all," Ego suggested.

"Another chef?" Linguini stared at Collette who did the same to him and then at Remy. "Who would be able to deal with the Little Chef? The entire staff at Gusteau's walked out when they found out about him. Well, almost the entire staff." He smiled at his cohort/girlfriend.

"He has a point. Even though the health inspector has left us alone since Notre Chef had his shots and is clean, not many will work with him. Rats and all that," she insisted.

"I know. Be that as it may, I was considering an apprentice. Money is still tight, you understand," Ego declared. "You can work with them, Mon Chef, can you not?"

Remy nodded. As long as they work with me, I can work with them.

"It is settled then. I shall advertise in the cooking schools across Europe for someone. Thank you as always for a wonderful meal and evening,"Ego concluded before getting up and leaving.

The trio looked at each other and then at Remy wondering who they could get that would fill Ego's bill. That was certainly the question of the evening…..