A/N: A vaguely Halloween story to mark the season.
Baker By Night
Steve Rogers strolled along the sidewalk enjoying the crisp autumn afternoon and admiring the proliferation of holiday decorations. He stopped to examine an elaborate Day of the Dead ceramic mask in a clothing store window when a dinosaur emerged from the shop next door.
Even if you were a superhero, this wasn't something that happened every day. Just twice since Steve had become an Avenger and once during the war (damn Hydra scientists). This instance was less alarming than the others, because the two-foot tall, bipedal dinosaur was on a rolling table. The fierce-looking statue (toy?) stood on a rectangular base and seemed to be attacking a variety of people in Halloween costumes. Most fled in static fear while one foolhardy soul used his cellphone to take a selfies with the dinosaur in the background. You could see an image of the photographer's grinning face and the gaping maw of the dinosaur on the "screen" of the "cellphone."
The artist in Steve was utterly charmed by the detail in this model (?), which had to be destined for a centerpiece at a Halloween party. The costumed figures and the dinosaur's overall orange and black color scheme pointed to the holiday.
But Steve wasn't sure what the model was made from. He edged forward to get a look at the store window and almost bumped into the man pushing the cart out the door.
The man startled. The cart swerved just an inch, just enough to catch a wheel in a chipped spot in the sidewalk. The cart jolted. The model wobbled and the dinosaur head tilted then tipped and began to pull away in an inexorable plummet toward the fleeing crowd.
"Catch it!" shouted a frantic voice from inside the store.
Steve lunged forward and caught the falling dinosaur head. He was mortified when it squashed between his fingers, but he dodged away without touching the rest of the display.
"Angelo!" scolded a voice from inside where a woman had been holding the door for her companion. "Why did you stop so suddenly?"
"I was startled by almost running into Captain America, Tina," the stocky, dark-haired man said dryly.
"Captain … ?" The woman said. "Well, I'll be darned, so it is."
The ruined dino head felt like soft clay, but it smelled sweet, and there was a grittiness underneath. Steve could see what looked like Rice Krispies in the dents his fingers had made. He looked at the rectangular base, then up at the bakery sign that had only just come into his view.
"Is this a cake?" he asked in surprise.
"Three-quarters of a cake," Tina said in disgust. A tall, red-haired woman with a face full of freckles emerged from "Sweet Stuff by Tina."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Steve said, trying unsuccessfully to unstick his fingers from the beautifully painted wreckage.
The woman's frown disappeared when she saw Steve's distress.
"No, no, don't apologize," she said hastily. "You saved most of the cake. If the head had fallen straight down, the whole thing would have been ruined."
"You saved all the people, Cap," Angelo teased.
"But I startled you, so the dinosaur broke," Steve said sadly.
"It shouldn't have broken with that little bump," Angelo said with certainty. "If it was that delicate, it wouldn't have survived a ride in the van, that's for sure."
"There must have been a flaw in the armature," Tina sighed.
"We have time to repair it," Angelo encouraged his boss. "It's already disassembled," he pointed out.
"Here, let me take that, Cap," Tina said, prying some of the ruined fondant off the sticky rice in Steve's hands.
"I'm surprised you recognized me out of uniform," Steve said awkwardly. "Most people don't."
"Most people don't spend hours staring at photos of you," Angelo said in matter-of-fact tones, as he eased the rolling cart back into the bakery.
"What? Staring?" Now Steve was even more embarrassed.
"I sculpted your face six times in the last month," the man said. "You're very popular with kids' birthday parties and patriotic events. We had two carved Cap cakes for Labor Day."
"And two more are on the schedule for Veteran's Day," Tina said.
"I hope Tony Stark never hears about this," Steve said. "He'd get a cake of me for his birthday then decapitate my head with a samurai sword or an ax."
"Yeah, I can see that would be disturbing," Tina admitted.
"Especially if they get red velvet for the cake inside," Angelo said.
"With raspberry jam oozing out," Tina added gleefully.
Steve winced at the image.
"That's a popular combination for Halloween cakes," Angelo told Steve with a chuckle. "We have two on the schedule for this weekend."
Steve gave an exaggerated shudder. "Cut it out. You're giving me the creeps."
"Come inside. Look around," the woman invited. "I'll show you where you can wash your hands."
Steve's fingers were still embedded in the dinosaur head, so he really had no choice but to follow.
Tina led Steve to a sink at the back, then disappeared into a tiny office while Angelo opened a tub of sticky rice cereal. "Good thing we made too much," he muttered.
"What do you want me to do with this?" Steve asked, waving his joined hands.
"Can you take it apart?" the man asked. "Gently. There's an armature inside I'd like to save."
"Armature" Steve mouthed silently. He shrugged and pried one hand free so he could remove the colorful top coating.
"You can drop the fondant in here." Angelo indicated a trash barrel full of the sweetest smelling garbage Steve had ever seen.
Steve obediently peeled away the rest of the fondant and carefully began pulling off bits of the cereal. "I thought this was cake, but it looks like Rice Krispie Treats." Clint got those out of the vending machine all the time. He defended his snack as being low fat but Natasha scoffed that it was mostly sugar.
"That's basically what it is," Angelo replied. He had already started molding a new head. "Generic crisp rice, though. And it's got candy corn flavoring instead of vanilla, because it's a Halloween cake. You're welcome to eat it, or any of the cake scraps in the barrel. It's a clean barrel."
"We made the head out of rice treats because it's lighter than cake. So it's NOT SUPPOSED TO FALL OFF!" he scolded the headless dino. "The smaller figures are modeling chocolate, but the body of the velociraptor and the base are cake."
"I'm really impressed," Steve said.
He pulled bits apart, filling two bowls, one with marshmallow rice and one with bits of PVC pipe, wires, two tiny red lights and several bolts.
"I think I found your problem," Steve said. He held up two halves of a bolt. "That didn't happen from that little bounce on the sidewalk. It must have been defective."
Angelo growled to himself and fetched a new bolt from a box on a shelf. "But how do I know if the whole box is defective?"
"Let me." Steve tried to bend the bolt. He didn't use enough force to damage a good bolt, but if there was a flaw in it, it would break. Two cracked in half with hardly any effort. The others held firm. "These are good," he said handing back the box.
Tina returned. "I told the client we would be late. Fortunately their party isn't until tonight. Debi's already left, though."
"Birthday party," Angelo reminded her.
"That's right." She looked at Steve and cackled like a Halloween witch. "We made her boy an Avengers cake."
"It's up to you and me, then," Angelo told his boss.
"Can I help?" Steve asked. "I can paint. I remember what the original paint job looked like."
"Have you used an airbrush?" Tina asked.
Steve nodded. "Tony Stark bought me supplies to airbrush T-shirts. He said it was a more modern art form than oils or pastels. He was being funny, but the equipment is fun."
"An extra set of hands will come in … well, handy," Angelo said.
"OK," Tina said decisively. "Have a look around while we cover the head, then you can paint it while we repair the armature."
Angelo molded the cereal treats into the shape of the head. It had a separate bottom jaw, which Steve hadn't realized. The baking assistant formed the pieces around PVC pipe, then passed them to Tina who covered them with sheets of white fondant, smoothing them and using clay sculpting tools to delineate the eyes, nostrils and other features. She pressed a flexible mold into the fondant to give it the texture of scales.
"Scientists now think these two-legged dinosaurs might have had feathers, but you have to pay extra for feathers," she told Steve darkly. "A good feathery look takes a lot more time."
While the cake makers prepared his "canvas," Steve wandered curiously around the Sweet Stuff by Tina bakery.
"We've got a video catalog," Angelo said. "Press any key on that laptop then click on play."
Steve did and was entranced by the display, which included cakes that moved, lit up and emitted smoke.
"Dry ice," Angelo explained.
And, yes, there were static cakes, including a bust of Captain America that was almost like looking in a mirror.
"These are amazing works of art," Steve breathed.
"And yet, they're ephemeral. They're meant to be destroyed. If no one eats it, our work is a failure," Tina said.
When the two parts of the jaw were sculpted anew and hinged together, Tina set them up on a turntable in a large booth with one open side, like a stage. The backdrop was spattered with many colors, indicating that its purpose was to prevent paint from spreading all over the room.
Angelo brought over the paint colors that had been used on the original model and the vodka used to thin the paint and help it dry quicker. Then the cake makers went back to repairing the armature in the shoulders of the dinosaur. This included wiring connections that, fortunately, had been pulled out of the head and not out of the intact portion of the cake.
Tina spoke softly to her employee, but Steve's enhanced hearing picked up the words anyway.
"Am I crazy to trust the paint job to an absolute amateur?"
Angelo shrugged. "He's Captain America. We trust him with a lot more."
True. If Steve said he could do it, she had to accept him at his word. He was Captain America!
Steve doubled his determination to do a good job for the cake makers who were trusting him. He tested the paint nozzle on a scrap of fondant, then began to work, laying down a base of pale yellow then working from lighter to darker colors, he added shading with burnt orange, two browns and a light and dark green. His finished paint job added definition to the 3-D model and provided a pattern that matched the already completed body. The final touch was streaks of brown above and below the eyes like a mask that would make the glowing red eye lights stand out.
Tina held up a photo of the original finished cake. Cap's paint job was virtually identical.
"No one should doubt Captain America," Angelo said solemnly, but with a teasing twinkle in his eye.
"OK, moment over," Tina said briskly. "We need to put these pieces together and get it over to the party."
They fastened on the head and then tested it. Steve was delighted to see the velociraptor's eyes light up while his mouth opened and his head swiveled menacingly.
They loaded the cake in the van with no incidents and prepared to drive away. Tina leaned from the passenger window and offered Steve a business card.
"If you ever need a cake, it's on the house," she said.
Steve handed back his own card with his personal number. "If you need another painter, give me a call. I'm not kidding," he affirmed.
Two weeks later, the Avengers finished a communal dinner and were splitting up for individual activities. Pepper was dragging Tony (his words) to a gallery opening. Bruce was working on a paper for a scientific journal. Natasha and Clint planned a pleasant evening of weapon cleaning with a mindless comedy providing background noise. Steve was looking forward to finishing a novel. He'd just gotten to the good part when Jarvis rang the dinner bell. (Literally, because Tony thought he was funny. And occasionally was.)
"Rogers," he said. Then he smiled. "Of course I remember," he said warmly. Then he frowned. "That's terrible! Yes, I meant it. If you need my help …" He nodded to himself as he listened. "I'll be right there."
The changes in his expressions and his voice had caught Clint and Natasha's attention.
"Thought you were going to read," Clint called.
"Gotta go," Steve said. "A friend needs some help." He ducked into his apartment.
Without any discussion, the spies got into the elevator, planning to intercept the captain outside the building.
"Hey, Jarvis, let us know if Steve goes to the garage," Nat said.
"Very good, Agent Romanoff." The spies reached the ground floor when Jarvis reported. "The captain pushed the button for the lobby."
Steve came out carrying the portfolio case he used to carry his shield and uniform.
"A friend needs some 'help'?" Clint said skeptically.
"Might just be in case we get called out," Natasha said. "How many weapons do you have on you 'just in case'?"
"Point," Clint agreed amiably. "And when does Steve have friends besides us anyway?"
"Someone in his art class?"
Clint shrugged.
They half-expected Cap to head for the subway but he set off on foot at a brisk walk. They followed, holding hands like a couple on a date but keeping to the shadows.
Steve turned into a side alley. The spies separated and slunk through the shadows in time to see Steve knock sharply on the back door of a shop. After a moment, the door opened and Steve disappeared inside.
Nat and Clint moved to the door, which was only labeled "Tina's." The door was wired with an alarm, but it was child's play for Natasha. The two spies slinked inside the darkened back room and separated to approach the lighted door they could see ahead.
"Smells nice in here," Clint breathed.
Natasha had to agree. It smelled like vanilla and maple and chocolate.
"Mm, bacon," Clint almost moaned.
Natasha gave him a fierce look that he sensed even though he couldn't see her expression in the dark. He shut his mouth with a snap and met Natasha at the open door to the next room. They peeked in to see several people, including Steve, decorating cakes. Cakes!
"No wonder it smells good in here," said Clint, always willing to state the obvious.
"Make sure you locked the door behind you," said Steve, without looking away from the complicated paisley pattern he was painting with a brush on the smooth white fondant of a stacked cake.
"It's locked," Natasha admitted, stepping into the light.
"When did you spot us?" Clint asked curiously as he followed her.
"Saw you reflected in windows just outside the Tower," Steve said.
"Manhattan. All those lights!" Clint cussed amiably.
"Is that the Black Widow?" Tina said in awe. She was carving a pile of cake into a dome.
"And Hawkeye," Angelo agreed. "This is so cool."
Clint gave a deep, sweeping circus bow.
"You two gonna help or gawk?" Steve asked.
"Can we help?" Clint asked.
"You've got a steady hand, Nat," Steve said. "Can you fill in these outlines I've made?"
"I can," Nat said, turning her intense focus on the opposite side of the cake Steve was working on.
"Clint, Angelo needs a hand rigging that cake to fly or something," Steve said.
"It's an upside down hanging cake with butterflies fluttering around it," Angelo said.
"I'm good with wires," Clint said.
"How did you get involved with cakes?" Natasha asked as Steve concentrated on painting complicated patterns.
Angelo told the story with gusto. Clint roared with helpless laughter at the idea of Steve saving chocolate people from a velociraptor made of cake. But while he laughed, his hands held the wiring rock steady for Angelo's intricate butterfly design.
"One of my employees burned her arm today, so I sent her home, but we need these done tomorrow morning, so I called Steve," Tina said.
"Like I told her to," Steve said.
"Do we get paid?" Clint teased.
"You can have the same deal I took," Steve said. "All the cake I can eat." With a broad grin, he held up a (clean) paint bucket full of cake scraps in various flavors, the pieces carved off cakes throughout the day.
Clint immediately stuffed a chunk of chocolate cake in his mouth. "Sold!" he said, in a muffled voice, crumbs flying.
Natasha rolled her eyes. Clint pointed an accusing finger at her. "Don't you drink all the vodka," he warned theatrically.
Natasha glanced at the enormous bottle of cheap vodka. "Please, that's only good for paint thinner."
"Good thing that's what we use it for," Steve said. "Now stop talking and start working," he ordered in his best Captain America voice.
"Yes sir, Captain Cake Cook, sir," Clint answered in smartass fashion, as he deftly untangled Angelo's wires.
Natasha applied herself to her painting to prove she was the more diligent of the two.
Steve smiled to himself and kept painting.
A/N: This was inspired by Food Network's "Halloween Wars." One of the judges called one of the bakers, who was a firefighter, "superhero by day, cake baker by night." And then this happened. Hope you have a happy and safe Halloween and/or any other harvest festivals you may enjoy.
