Fareeha bent down low, eyeing the baking cookies in the oven through the clear window, her face left with a serious expression as her eyes narrowed, carefully examining the warming pastries. Behind her, Amgela stood at the opposing counter, finishing up a plate of cheese and crackers, turning to watch Fareeha's intent posture.
"Why don't you just open it and look at them from a normal angle?" she inquired, curiously.
Fareeha sighed, "Because then they're not cooked evenly. and it takes longer. You keep the door closed- that's rule number one."
"Uh huh," Angela nodded, sarcastically, "And how many classes have you taken in bake shop?"
Fareeha stood up straight, crossing her arms and raising her head haughtily, "I'll have you know, I'm level twenty on Borden Damsey's 'Class of Masters' online video collection. As a visual learner, it's all I need to make wonderful dishes."
"Just as long as they're not teaching you how to set towels on fire," Angela replied, matter of factly.
"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Fareeha refuted, waving her arms in denial, "You tell me to flambé, I say how high. Just so happened to be high enough to catch the kitchen towels on fire."
"So you're blaming me?" Angela asked, a teasing glare escaping her eyes.
"I am, but, your humble servant," Fareeha declared, "We both know I'm the one who's reaching up beyond her league to have you."
Angela's teasing stare suddenly become one of confusion as Fareeha went on with a shrug, "I mean, it's not as if I'm complaining; I have a gorgeous lover who knows how to drug me with her very lips. I'm the happiest woman on earth."
Angela replied, "Do you know how condescending that sounds to me? You make it sound like I'm pitying you by being at your side."
"I'm not condescending," Fareeha shrugged once again, now nervously playing with her oven mitted hand, not expecting this can of worms to have been opened, "I know what I am. Parts of my body are more muscle than I have breasts, I wear my hair short; I spent so much time in the service, both in Egypt's and my mother's, that I know next to nothing when it comes to relationships. You can't tell me that, were we not together, you'd have a far greater lot in life."
Angela's glare hadn't wavered, though her eyes had shivered in frustration, listening to her lover's words. She turned back toward the counter, quietly pulling over a block of cheese before cutting it down into thin slices. Fareeha sighed, shaking her head with curved lips, quietly attempting to quell the nerves within her that spun like pinwheels.
"I thought you knew," was all Fareeha could finish with, scratching her arm nervously.
Angela didn't reply immediately, simply going along with her task, hey eyes shutting softly as she put on an expression of disdain, "Master chef, check the oven."
Fareeha ran over her words for a moment before jolting up in shock, her hands racing toward the oven, yanking it open, smelling the aroma of charred pastries before getting a chance to see with her own eyes. She groaned defeatedly, hanging her head low as she stood back up, looking toward Angela with a helpless look.
"What, are you blaming me again?" Angela asked, sarcastically, still cutting with eyes closed.
"Of course not," Fareeha sighed, reaching into the oven to grab ahold of the cookie sheet, now covered with near-black cookies, shaking her head dismissively, "Well, just another chance to-"
She suddenly heard a subtly gentle whimper from behind her, one of the painful sort. She whipped her head around, her eyes growing wide at the sight of blood trickling across the cutting board, flowing out from a nasty gash along Angela's hand. She dropped the knife onto the counter in shock as she eyed the strip of blood that ran along nearly the entire length of her palm, when suddenly, Fareeha bolted to her side, alongside the massive *CRASH* from the cookie sheet hitting the ground, quickly wrapping an arm around Angela and pulling her toward the sink, gently taking her lover's hand in both of hers with barely any regard for the blood pouring out from the vicious laceration.
Fareeha quickly ran her hand underneath the warm water, washing the redness away, keeping it beneath the faucet as she quickly reached over for a towel. Pulling her hand away, Fareeha immediately wrapped the thick towel around her hand before holding it between both of her hands, putting as much pressure as she felt comfortable with.
Still slightly in a daze, Angela's eyes glazed over at the sight, but slowly began to soften as she watched those two lovingly tanned hands encompassing her own, even if there was a towel between them. Her skin was so pale, she thought, when Fareeha's was so warm and full of life, the two shades complimenting each other so perfectly whenever their fingers managed to entwine with the other's.
Fareeha sighed quietly, leaning over in relief, suddenly notifying Angela to the fact that Fareeha was pretty much holding her from behind, a prominent blush coursing across her face. The soldier remained vigilant in her clutch, not stopping her pressure along Angela's hand, even though she knew, already, it was pretty much pointless. Still, she couldn't resist her instincts to act, she figured.
"I'm the one who's reaching," Angela quietly muttered, earning a pensive jolt from behind her as Fareeha looked down toward her.
"Huh?"
Angela lowered her head, "You knew this was pointless, yet it was all you could do to keep me safe…"
Fareeha didn't answer, though as the doctor slowly pulled her hand from in between hers, she loosened her grip. Angela's hand slid out from within the towel, revealing her palm without a scar, having already healed itself, completely, from within. Instead of returning her hand to her side, however, Angela took both hands and grasped Fareeha's, pulling them around herself in a gentle hug that Fareeha was quick to tighten, albeit subtly.
"When we met, I was the cold one," Angela continued, almost in a whisper, "I wanted nobody; I didn't even bother speaking to my closest friends. I was lost in my work, doing what I could to forget all the pain I had caused."
She pushed herself back into Fareeha's body, "I might not have been dead physically, but by most other metrics…yeah. I wouldn't know life. Not as I do now. with you."
"You talk as if I'd have had my pick of the litter, when in reality, nobody could have possibly had me, regardless. Nobody but you," Angela went on, softly, allowing her eyes to well up with tears, though her voice remained steady, "You chose me, for whatever reasons. You took me, and had me, and when it came time for us to part, it was you who clung on to me and gave me life again."
Fareeha's head bent lower, softly burying itself in her lover's softly glowing hair, as she went on, unable to hide an adorable sniffle, "People dream about having somebody so dependable as you. So strong, and- and secure. Somebody who would do what you just did, right then, even while knowing it ultimately didn't matter. Because it does, to me."
She went on, her voice as still as a gentle lake, "Somebody I can trust, without any doubt. It's so scary, offering so much of yourself, not knowing just how much, if anything, you'll receive in return. But with you, I- You show me, every day, that you love me as much in return. Just for that, dear, you're so far out of my league."
They remained quiet for a moment, simply enjoying each other's warmth, though at some point, Angela's eyes suddenly coiled in unamusement, suddenly feeling Fareeha's body rumbling against her in silent chuckles.
"I apologize for opening up my heart to you," Angela muttered sarcastically.
"Come on," Fareeha laughed lightly, "Surely you see how fun it is for me to see you go from not knowing how to be stupidly cheesy when we first met to now, hearing you say what you just did."
Angela rolled her eyes, drolly, as she started to weakly pull away, sighing, "Just finish your cookies."
In an instant, Fareeha's arms tightened round her, yanking her back into place as the soldier forced her body to spin around, holding Angela beneath her lover's stare. Fareeha tilted toward her, moving her face closer with a smile as Angela gingerly leaned back over the counter. Her eyes met with Fareeha's, seeing those particularly intense eyes that she couldn't find a way to escape from.
"I thought it was pretty cute," Fareeha spoke, sweetly.
Between her stare and her words, Angela couldn't help but blush. She was rendered helpless by Fareeha's arms and her eyes, though she also felt inexplicably secure in being bound by the woman she had grown to love so dearly. It was such a deadly combination, as far as her senses went.
With the swiftness associated with such tactful acts, Fareeha swooped down to give Angela a kiss, letting her go as she turned around to pick up the cookies that had flown across the kitchen, "I'll start again if you want to get back to getting the movie ready. I'm not about to have you cutting up anything else tonight."
She smiled as she crouched down to grab at the charred pastries, catching Angela's voice as she spoke, "I'll go ahead and get the ornament ready."
She had spoken so softly, almost to the point of worrying Fareeha, though she was quick to dismiss it, knowing she had embarrassed her enough for the evening without pointing out her behavior. She simply began again on their snacks before reaching over to grab at the knife, seeing Angela's still covering a rather large amount of the blade. Fareeha's mind quickly thought back to the doctor's nano-machines, how even in death, she could be of aid to her companions.
Fareeha's eyes dropped, lowly, at the thought, thinking, again, of her own, slight meeting with death. How Angela might have felt by that careless betrayal of trust. Fareeha sighed in resolution as she stood up, simply going along with her previous task, albeit sadly.
