CHAPTER 6
EPICUREAN'S DELIGHT
Saturday wasn't going well for Mercy. She couldn't do much in the kitchen with a cast on her arm, except bake a few odds and ends. Nonetheless, she still had to supervise the other bakers and kitchen help. She left at 6:00 pm, forgetting to bring a desert from the bakery. She realized as she was getting dressed that she had forgotten to bring something home. She was running late, so she grabbed supplies from her cabinets and took off.
Mercy had worn a black sweater and black stretch pants with short black boots and a Houndstooth swing coat. House opened the door and laughed, "You look like Agent 99."
She handed him the grocery bags.
"What's this?" he asked.
"I thought we'd bake together." She said sweetly. He gave her a look of unvarnished disbelief. She gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged, "Okay, I forgot to bring something from the bakery for desert, so I thought we could make something together."
He closed the door and nodded towards the coat stand. She put her coat on one of the hooks and followed him into the kitchen. She looked around the kitchen. The counters were higher than normal, but it was a respectable kitchen with adequate appliances and space.
He opened the refrigerator, "Beer, Tequila, Whiskey, Gin, Tonic..."
"Gin & tonic will be fine. Bathroom?"
"The bathroom is down the hall." He motioned to the door leading to the living room. She went running down the hall as he made the gin & tonic. He heard the toilet flush and her boots clack back down the hall.
"Aaaaaaa!"
House froze and then ducked out of the kitchen to find out what the scream was about. Mercy was standing in front of the painting, her fist tightly gripping her sweater and her mouth wide open. She turned around, so dumbfounded, she couldn't say anything but point at the painting. He walked over and gave her silly looks until she managed to ask, "Why?"
Have you looked at the painting? He captured you – the hot, beautiful, sexy, savvy, you. "It was a good investment."
She smiled and walked up to within a couple of feet of House. "You could have bought any one of his paintings. You chose that one?"
"Yes, I chose that one. It was the only one on sale."
Mercy threw her head back and laughed. He laughed at her laugh. It was rich and full and her whole body embraced it. He reached over and lightly grabbed her good arm and pulled her over to him.
Her laughter petered out as she put her hand on his upper arm. It felt firm under the t-shirt. She bent slightly back. "Greg, I came over to have dinner, let's just have dinner. The painting, your interest in me, it's making me feel uncomfortable."
House could tell she was melting, that he could still kiss her if he wanted. Her protests were weak and she wasn't trying to get out of his soft grasp. But, her eyes were begging him not to do anything. He hesitated then let go and went back into the kitchen. She stood shaking, her eyes closed, her heart beating fast.
After swallowing hard, she went in and looked around. She saw nothing that looked like dinner cooking. "Where's dinner?"
"It's on it's way."
"You were going to make me dinner."
"No, I said you could come over for dinner." There was a knock at the door, "I believe dinner is served." He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and opened the door.
He exchanged money with the delivery boy and brought the food into the kitchen, putting it down in front of Mercy. He went over and pulled down plates and grabbed silverware out of the drawer.
Mercy looked into the sacks and pulled out trays of food. One had Chicken Parmigiana, the other had broccoli and almonds with a light cheese sauce. The last carton had pasta tossed in a pesto sauce. She dished the meal out and they walked out to the table, sitting down with their drinks.
"Where did you grow up Greg?"
"My Dad was military, we were stationed a lot of places. I went to 5th and 6th grades in Egypt, middle school in Japan, and most of my high school in Italy. When we finally came home and settled near El Toro Marine Base, it was time for me graduate from high school and go to University."
"Where were you born?"
"Tripler Army Hospital in Honolulu."
She cocked her head, "Hawaii! You're a world traveler. Where do you go on vacation?"
He smirked, "Vacation? Last time I went somewhere on vacation it was Mardi Gras in New Orleans, back before the turn of the century."
"You don't like to go on vacation?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I've done that. Traveling doesn't interest me that much."
"I can't travel enough."
"Oh, where was your last vacation?"
"Several years ago, in Europe. I received notice while I was in France that my Mom had died. I had to come home and take over the bakery."
"I thought you had a brother?"
House watched her turn white.
"Who told you that?" She asked.
"Flannery."
She looked stunned when he mentioned Flannery.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I just realized that you must know more about me than I thought!"
House chuckled, "Not much. Why didn't your brother take over the bakery?"
"He owned his own business, a software business. It was very successful, too successful. He barely had time for his wife. He wanted to sell the bakery so that we'd both be free of it. But, I Iove the bakery. It's been in my mother's family for generations. I grew up in that kitchen; so I bought him out. That ended my traveling, at least for now."
He didn't smile, but he did wiggle his eyebrows, "We could go on a vacation together."
She chuckled, her eyes crinkling, "You're so ornery. I don't think so. People would talk!" She wiggled her eyebrows back at him and then finished her plate, "That was surprisingly good. Since you got me here under false pretenses, you're going to help me bake."
"I keep telling you that I could put that bun in your oven."
"Yeah, you just keep thinking good thoughts." She took his plate from him and rinsed it. "I need two pans, one smaller than the other so that we can use it as a double boiler."
He gave her the pans and watched as she filled the larger one halfway with water, started the heat and brought it to a boil. She sat the second, empty one into the water.
"Okay, I'm doing this recipe off the top of my head. I need your measuring cups."
It took House several minutes, but he finally found them stashed deep in a cupboard. She measured out the cream, Kahlua and butter; combining them with the pound of milk chocolate in the top pan of the makeshift double boiler.
"You stir so that it doesn't burn."
"Yes, mistress."
House was impressed as he watched Mercy separate the whites of the eggs even with a cast on her arm. She nestled the bowl in between the cast and her body and, using her right hand, began to whip the whites and then fold in the sugar.
"Have you ever been married?" House asked.
She shook her head, "I lived with one guy for ten years and then I met someone else. Someone who also loved history, music and my baking. My live-in boyfriend complained about my baking all the time."
"Wait, someone complained about your baking?
She gave a silly face, "Yes, he was a health nut."
"Oh Jesus Christ, you mean a, 'fruit is as close to sugar as I get' nut?"
She sighed, "Yep, that would be him."
"And you threw him over for this history buff?"
"Yeah, bad move...very bad move. The history buff turned out to be a possessive, jealous, egomaniacal bastard with a tendency to not like the fact that I hit back harder than he hit me. He gave me a black eye and bloody nose. I gave him a skull fracture and broken nose."
"So he got physical?"
"Just once – I don't do well when someone resorts to violence. I put him in the hospital and told him while he was still in the hospital that his things had been packed and were sitting in the hall of our apartment waiting for him to collect them. He wasn't too happy."
"So he's the one that broke your arm?"
She looked up at him and frowned, "It's much more complicated than that." There was silence, she took her finger and grabbed a peak of the whipped whites and dabbed House's nose. Mercy giggled at him. He took his finger and wiped the whites off his nose and tasted it. He placed his finger in the bowl and did the same to her. She crossed her eyes trying to look at the puff of whites on her nose. He reached down and licked the whites off the tip of her nose.
He wanted to kiss her lips which had a little bit of melted milk chocolate she had stolen from the molten mixture in the pan he was stirring. Mercy could see he was looking at something on her lips so she licked around her mouth, picking up the errant streak of milk chocolate.
"Ah, not fair. I was going to lick that off too." House pouted. "By the way, what are we making?"
"We're making Chocolate Mousse Domes with Chocolate Glaze. Sound okay to you?"
"Sounds great."
She motioned at the double boiler, "Hold the bowl for me over the pan."
House balanced the bowl over the pan of the melted chocolate mixture. Mercy folded the egg white mixture into the chocolate and then, with a ladle, placed the mixture into each of the cups of a biscuit pan. " Normally, we'd put the chocolate into molds, but the biscuit tin is fine." She handed him the tin full of deep, dark chocolate mounds, "Please put the pan in the refrigerator to cool." When he returned, she turned around, looking at him with a mischievous grin, "Now the glaze!"
He was amused, she seemed so happy baking. It was infectious. He felt happy too. Besides, who wouldn't? It was chocolate Nirvana.
Mercy took the chocolate, cream, and corn syrup and combined them in a pan. She put the mixture on a slow burn, gabbing as House stirred it. He picked up the spoon and took a little taste, offering the same to her. He accidently dropped some glaze onto her chin. House couldn't resist, he bent down and licked her chin and then dragged his lips up to hers. He put the spoon down and reached around her waist. This time she didn't pull back. Baking was obviously an aphrodisiac to her. He turned off the stove.
House could feel her warm skin as he moved his hands up under her sweater. The skin was smooth over the bones of her spine. He slipped his hand down the curve of the small of her back. When his tongue parted her lips he could taste the chocolate and Kahlua, feel her tongue press back against his. He kept hoping she wouldn't pull back this time.
Tired of bending his 6'3" frame to her 5'3" body, he picked her up and placed her on the block table. To House's delight, Mercy wrapped her legs around his torso and pulled him closer with her free arm. He continued rubbing her body as they kissed, her hand pulling his head into hers. He unclasped her bra and then leaned in to kiss her neck. House found the breasts he had admired in the painting. Just from touch he could tell that the painting had been accurate. They were round, high and the nipples pert. He took the left breast in his hand and fondled it, the weight of it filling his palm.
House pulled back and smiled at her, "I've been waiting for this for months."
"Waiting for what?"
"The unveiling of the coveted breasts in the painting." Just the thought made it necessary for him to adjust his levis
She laughed as he started to lift her sweater. He caught a glimpse of the bottom curve of her breast. Just as he started to reveal her nipples, they both jumped from the sound of a key in the front door. She looked at him with her eyes wide open in horror. House frowned, grabbed his cane and impatiently walked towards the living room. Mercy jumped down from the table, swiftly moving over to the stove, hoping she looked nonchalant. She danced around as she tried to hook her bra with her free arm. She turned on the stove and started stirring the glaze. She kept looking towards the living room, wondering who had arrived. House and a woman talking.
House sounded agitated, "What are you doing here?"
"You said that I should stop by when I got back in town." She protested.
"You said you'd be back Sunday afternoon."
"I was done early, so I came home today. I thought you'd be happy." There was a short pause, "There's someone here, isn't there?"
Mercy grabbed a towel and started to wipe her hands as she walked to the living room. She smiled broadly at Sheila, "Hi, oh, I remember you from Flannery's show. I'm Mercy."
Sheila looked at the painting, flashed a look of anger at House, then forcibly smiled as she shook her hand, "Sheila."
"Greg wanted to learn how to make Glazed Chocolate Mousse Mounds to surprise you with and now you've gone and ruined the surprise."
Sheila shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, he's such a gourmet."
Mercy tilted her head, "Ah, you don't believe me." Nodding towards the kitchen she chuckled, "Come on into my domain."
Sheila followed Mercy into the kitchen and saw the dishes and pans they had been using. She saw the chocolate mixture in the pan. Once again, Mercy began to heat and stir the chocolate glaze.
Sheila looked in the pan and then at House. She threw her arms around his neck and squealed, "Oh my God, you were going to treat me!"
Mercy turned around, "Greg, can you please get me the Mousse from the refrigerator?"
House grabbed the biscuit tin of chocolate mounds and handed it to her. She knocked the Mousse onto the aluminum foil she had spread on the counter. She poured the glaze over each of them and then placed the pan in the sink, ran some water and then wiped her hands.
"Well, I guess I'm done here. I'll email you the complete recipe tomorrow." She looked back and forth between them, "So...I'll be out of your hair. Bon appetite!" Mercy smiled graciously, flew out to the living room, looked up at the painting, shook her head, a sly smile forming on her lips. As she grabbed her jacket off the coat rack, she turned and saw a smiling Sheila and a disgruntled House. She chuckled and left.
Sheila went into the kitchen. House stood, staring at the ground, thinking about the turn of events and how screwed up it was.
"Oh my God!" Sheila moaned.
House came back from his thoughts and followed Sheila's voice. She was
staring at him, her face immersed in ecstasy as she bit into the Mousse.
"Honey, this is great. It's almost as good as sex. Maybe better."
House walked over and grabbed one of the delectable goodies off the aluminum foil and popped it in his mouth. He winced as if he was in pain, but in reality, the eruption of flavor was too much. It was orgasmic, the chocolate mixture mixed with the Kahlua and the corn syrup glaze was overwhelming. House looked out the kitchen door at the painting in the living room and continued, with every bite, to stare at her. It was the closest thing he could think of to having sex with her.
If you're reading, can you please post just so I know you've caught up after I screwed up the posting of the two chapters...sorry again. As soon as I know you've caught up and are in order, I'll post chapter 6 Part 2. Thanks. Gorblimey2