The kitchen was hot, the air smelled of cloves and turkey, and there was a cute girl between her arms. It would be at least another hour until the dwarfs returned for Thanksgiving supper, and for that, Snow White was grateful.
The girl turned suddenly, brown curls springing from her bun like ribbons of freshly-shaved cinnamon. Her eyes were the color of warm honey on a fresh beignet, and it was all Snow could do to keep from blushing when they alighted, ever so briefly, on hers.
"Which name should I write next?"
They bent over the kitchen table together, fingers coated in flour and pumpkin as they sculpted another of Snow's famous pies. She knew Tiana didn't need the practice, renowned as she was in her own city for her spicy gumbos and airy souffles, but she couldn't help relishing the little bit of pride and warmth that came from teaching a pretty girl how to make something sweet.
Snow rolled the scraps of pie dough between her fingers, warming the soft folds as she placed them gently into Tiana's palms.
"Bashful," she said. "He's the only one who prefers pumpkin to gooseberry, and I know he's too shy to speak up when Doc and Grumpy get to fighting about supper."
Tiana sculpted the dough into looping cursive letters over the top of the pie. "A little unorthodox for a pumpkin pie, but I'm sure Bashful will love it. That'll make about… six pies, now."
Snow suppressed a smile. The dwarfs never could get through more than one or two slices of pie after one of her feasts, even after Sneezy's legendary blasts took out the mashed potatoes and Dopey had smeared cranberry sauce across half of the table in the frenzy to fill his plate before Grumpy and Happy could beat him to the punch. Holidays in the forest verged on disastrous more often than not, generating the kind of blissful chaos that kept seven dwarfs and one girl relatively happy and relatively fed by evening's end. Snow still tried to implement her perfectly orchestrated plans every fall - the beautiful table spreads, the caramel-colored turkey, the candles twinkling in the cheeks of the cottage - but even she had to admit that the messy, inevitable alternatives always turned out far better than she could have devised. Of course, convincing Tiana that each dwarf was due an entire pie was an excellent excuse to keep her in the kitchen and a plan that the dwarfs wouldn't mind in the slightest.
"Apple or gooseberry?"
A red, ripe apple glistened in Tiana's palm. She held it up to Snow, turning it slightly to catch the light.
"How does the saying go?" Tiana said. "'It's apple pies that make the menfolks' mouths water?'"
Snow blushed. They were familiar words, old words, a refrain so bitter she could almost taste it. Coming from Tiana's lips, however, they sounded sweet enough to revive the craving she thought she had lost forever.
She cupped Tiana's fingers in hers, lifted the apple to her mouth, and took a bite. The crisp skin gave way to the white meat underneath, at once sharp and soft against her palette. This time, there was no poison, no acrid aftertaste, no weakness in her chest or shakiness in her legs. All was sugar, and light, and good.
The apple fell to the floor. Tiana wound her fingers through Snow's curls, holding them tight as she let her lips run over Snow's with reckless abandon, licking the nectar from her mouth and moving to explore the sweeter, hidden pleasures within. Snow tightened her arms around Tiana's waist and pulled her into the kiss until they were so deeply intertwined that had the magic wishing apple been the poisonous vehicle for a stepmother's revenge, they might both have collapsed on the cottage floor.
Twilight descended on the cottage in the woods; in the distance, the dwarfs were marching homeward. Dazed and sticky, Snow touched Tiana's forehead with her own, tracing the curve of her cheek with flour-dusted fingers. She leaned forward until their lips nearly touched, feeling the old craving morph into something new and delicious that she couldn't quite put a name to.
"Perhaps," Snow said, "just one more bite."