A/N: Okay, there's not much to be said for this one. I thought of it while lying in bed, trying to fall asleep after a long evening spent studying. It just occured to me why Sam was making cookies when her dad came to tell her that her mother had died. This, combined with an unsettling discovery that there are disturbingly few stories that deal with Sam's childhood and youth and DO NOT include a certain USAF Colonel in one form or another. Don't get me wrong, I'm as hopeless a shipper as they come, it's just that it seems to me that the whole idea of Sam and Jack meeting as teenagers or something is a little weird.
Also, the next chapter of the Five Times series should be up soon, I have the beginning and the end, now I just have to come up with something for the middle.
Anyway, this was written late at night so please excuse the mistakes (I did read it after myself, but you tend to miss some things after five hours of reading school notes). Enjoy! Oh, and please, review :-)
Disclaimer: I own squat. Surprise! Surprise!
Cookies
„Sammie!"
Unfortunately, little Sammie Carter was too busy finishing her work to hear the voice calling for her from the kitchen. Reaching for green crayon, she shifted herself to a more comfortable position on the floor, where she was lying on her tummy, and started coloring vehemently, creasing her soft forehead in heavy concentration, with the tiny tip of her pink tongue stuck out of her mouth, closely following the crayon's movements.
"Sammie," said an amused voice.
She looked up to see Mommy standing in the doorway, smiling down at her.
"Whatcha' working on?" Mommy asked, kneeling down beside her.
Sammie sat up. "That's Daddy," she explained seriously, gesturing towards a drawing on the floor that showed a blue stick figure, drawn by the clumsy hand of a four-year-old, holding hands with a smaller figure whose head was covered with bright yellow hair. Both were surrounded by awkward shapes that seemed to represent carousels, a Ferris wheel and a rollercoaster.
"That's nice, honey," Mommy said softly, gently stroking Sammie's hair. "Why don't you give it to Daddy when he gets back?"
Sammie nodded fiercely. "I will!" her tender brow furrowed for a moment. "Mommy, will Daddy be back before I go to bed?"
Mommy sighed. "I don't know, sweetie. But if you're a good girl, you can stay up a little longer tonight," she added with a smile.
Sammie jumped up to hug Mommy tightly. "I'm always a good girl."
"Of course you are, baby," Mommy murmured quietly into Sammie's hair, pulling her closer. "Now, are you finished with your drawing?"
"Uh-huh," Sammie nodded as she pressed her cheek against Mommy's chest, snuggling closer.
"Okay, so how about we make some cookies for Daddy?" Mommy asked, cradling Sammie in her arms.
Sammie's eyes widened. "Really?" Could she really help Mommy make cookies like a big girl?
"Sure, you're a big girl, aren't you?" Mommy answered with a smile.
Sammie straightened herself and said proudly. "Yes, I am."
Mommy chuckled. "Good, now, clean up the crayons while I go check on Mark and then we can get to work, okay?"
"Okay!" Sammie yelled excitedly, already jumping up to collect the crayons and put them into a box as fast as possible.
*
Only minutes later, she was in the kitchen, settled comfortably on a chair, watching Mommy take out all the ingredients necessary to make the best cookies in the world. Flour, eggs, sugar, butter and most importantly, chocolate chips. No cookies were good without chocolate chips in them, Sammie, even though only four years old, knew that.
"Okay, Sammie, I need you to put this into the bowl," Mommy said, handing her a glassful of flour. Sammie stood up on the chair, accepted the glass solemnly and pouring the flour into the bowl. She then did the same with sugar, butter, eggs and some other stuff she didn't know.
"Here, we need to add some salt, too," adding a teaspoonful of the white powder.
Sammie regarded her with skepticism. "But Mommy, the cookies are supposed to be sweet…" she said, disappointed.
Mommy smiled. "I know, honey, but we need to put some salt into the dough, otherwise it's not good."
"But why?" Sammie just didn't understand why one would need to add salt into a sweet treat.
"Because sometimes, you have to add the exact opposite of something to bring it out," Mommy explained patiently.
Sammie's brow furrowed as she considered Mommy's words. "Like when I'm coloring, I have to put a dark color next to yellow so that I can see it better?"
Mommy smiled proudly. "Yes, just like that."
"Okay," Sammie nodded, satisfied. "What do we do now?"
"Now, I will mix the dough," Mommy said, taking the bowl from Sammie.
"And when do we add chocolate chips?" Sammie asked anxiously.
Again, Mommy smiled, only this time the smile was amused. "Later, honey, when the dough is mixed properly."
Sammie nodded and watched as Mommy used a mixer to mix the dough. Wow, Sammie thought, Mommy was so good at this, and so smart. She always knew what to do; like that you had to put some salt into sweet dough to make it taste better. And when to add chocolate chips, too. Her Mommy had to be the best in the whole world.
"Okay, now, you can add the chips," Mommy said, setting the mixer aside.
Sammie grabbed the bag and started to pour its contents into the bowl until the dough was all covered in chocolate chips.
"Whoa!" Mommy said, taking the bag from Sammie's little hands. "We don't want the cookies to be all chocolate."
Sammie nodded slowly, but couldn't quite bring herself to agree with Mommy. What was so bad about all chocolate cookies?
Meanwhile, Mommy mixed in the chips and put two large metal cookie sheets on the kitchen counter.
"Good, now, I'll show you how to put the dough on the sheet. Look," Mommy said as she took a teaspoon and used it to take a small ball of dough from the bowl and placed it carefully on one of the sheets, she then gave another spoon to Sammie. "Here, now you try."
Sammie took the spoon and plunged it into the dough. It was tougher than she'd thought it would be, but Sammie didn't give up. She determinedly turned it around and pulled out a large ball of the mixture.
Mommy chuckled. "Good, sweetie, you just need it to be smaller," she said and expertly set apart a portion of the ball, making it just the right size. She then handed the spoon back to Sammie. "Now put it on the sheet, just like I showed you."
Sammie took the spoon and carefully placed the piece of dough on her sheet, a barely visible line of deep concentration showing between her brows. Finally, the ball was safely on the metal.
"Well done, Sammie," Mommy said, gently patting Sammie's shoulder. Sammie smiled proudly.
They continued until all of the dough was on the sheets, then they put them into the oven.
"How long before they're baked?" Sammie asked impatiently.
"About ten minutes, honey," Mommy answered. "Just enough time for you to go wash your hands and face while I clean up the mess."
Sammie nodded, climbing down from the chair, and ran upstairs.
When she came back, the sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled the kitchen. She breathed in deeply. She loved the smell. Now, she just had to wait for Daddy to come to give the cookies to him.
*
Late at night, Sammie was sleeping in her bed when she was suddenly awakened by the sound of the door of her room opening. She opened her eyes and looked at the door, seeing only a slice of light from the hallway seep into the room. Sammie wanted to shout for help, afraid that it might be a monster, but then she noticed someone stepping inside. It was a tall man. He made for Sammie's bed and as he got closer, she recognized him.
"Daddy?" she asked, her sleepy voice filled with joy.
"Hi, Sam," a familiar deep voice answered.
"Daddy!" she shouted, jumping out of the bed, and ran towards him.
"Shhh, Sam, Mark's sleeping," he reprimanded softly as he caught her and lifted her up to hold her close. Sammie threw her arms around Daddy's neck and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you!" she whispered, clutching at his shirt.
"I know, baby, I missed you too," Daddy answered, stroking her soft hair. He held her a moment longer and then carried her back to the bed. He gently laid her down and pulled the covers over her.
"I made cookies for you," Sammie whispered proudly.
"Really, all by yourself? Well, that's my big girl," Daddy said with a smile.
Sammie yawned. "Well, Mommy helped a little."
"Oh," Daddy chuckled. "We'll have some in the morning together, okay? Now, be a good girl and go back to sleep."
"Okay," she whispered, her eyes slipping closed. "Goodnight, Daddy, I love you."
He kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Sam, I love you too."
*