An Important Waste of Time

By Threshie

AN: This fic is dedicated to the Infamous Lord Dilandau (fondly known as Lord D) of my favorite Esca RP board and forum, Fate's Toy! (much squeeing and joyfulness in general.) Let us note that I do not own Escaflowne, nor any of its characters. This is a work of fanfiction, and I make no money off of it. This is my Secret Santa Christmas gift for Lord D for the year 2005.(Smily) Hopes she likes it May I also mention that the awesome OC character Sei is not mine--he belongs to my friend, who goes by the screenname Sei also. Thanks for loaning me Sei, Sei! ) Without further ado... (sweeps arm grandly) The fic!

"You want us to do what...?" Dilandau crossed his arms. This was ridiculous--he'd thought Sei needed him to come over for something important, something urgent that couldn't wait!

"To bake some biscuits," Sei repeated patiently, sipping the steaming cup of tea he had just poured.

Dilandau arched a silver brow, demanding, "And what would I want to do something like that for? Cooking is the galley workers' job."

"Usually, yes," the doctor sighed, sitting the cup on his nearby tea-table and standing, "Except for during the holiday season, when it is a tradition to bake biscuits and decorate them."

"Decorate them?" Dilandau suddenly looked more perplexed than annoyed. "Who the hell decorates cookies, Sei? They're cookies--people are just going to eat them." He'd listened to Sei's Daedalaen way of speaking long enough to know that 'biscuits' meant 'cookies'. "Besides which, I don't even have time to decorate my quarters, much less cookies...I have a unit to run!"

"In Daedalus, everyone decorates biscuits for the holidays," Sei explained, patient as ever, while he reached and retrieved a piece of paper from the tea-table beside the teacup. "And according to your schedule here, your Dragon Slayers are going to be having their physicals done all this week, leaving you too short on men to coordinate any real training sessions. Why not let the ones who aren't on holiday have a little free time, and take a little time off yourself?"

Dilandau's eyes narrowed at this. Oh, now I understand... Sei was always trying to get him to take more time off; he seemed to think Dilandau's around-the-clock work schedule was unhealthy or something silly like that. Which of course the captain thought was complete nonsense, himself. Sei cared about him so much, he had decided long ago, that if he had his way Dilandau would work half as much as anyone else simply so that he would get a full eight hours of sleep at night (although really, according to Sei, people Dilandau's age actually needed more like twelve hours of sleep a night.) It would be insane, to sleep twelve hours a night! There wouldn't be time to get anything done!

"My men may be having their physicals done this week, but that does not stop me from training those who aren't in Medical," the albino replied stubbornly, frowning. "It just gives me opportunities for more one-on-one training instead of group drills." From Sei's general direction (he wasn't looking at him anymore), he heard a little sigh.

"Well, I suppose if it encroaches upon your schedule too terribly, we don't have to. It would only take perhaps one afternoon, though...and, I was looking forward to spending some time with you in which you didn't have to have some injury to be in my company. Or, do you really only want to come here when you absolutely have to...?"

"...Dammit, Sei, that is not what I meant, and you know it!" Dilandau gritted his teeth--he hated it when Sei said things like that! It made him feel sort of...guilty. So he didn't come visit Sei in his off-time--that's because he didn't have any! He was a busy person--he had lots and lots of things to do, and Folken always breathing down his neck didn't simplify things any! And how the hell are cookies supposed to help this, anyway...?

"Hm. I see." Sei sat back down in his chair, picking up his teacup again and gazing down into it.

"No, you don't!" Dilandau came over and leaned down to look him in the eye...except that the doctor was looking into his teacup, thus he didn't receive the glare that was aimed at him. "You act like I'm trying to avoid you or something! I'm not--I'm just really busy, dammit!"

"Mm-hm," Sei sipped his tea calmly, "I know that you are--I never said that you aren't. I just hoped that you could find time to spend one afternoon with me. If that is too much to ask, then you may return to your overly-busy schedule now, by all means, and I apologize for making you waste the time to come down here and speak to me face-to-face."

"..." It's only cookies...I guess I could suffer through it...dammit, why does he have to make it sound like I'm trying to avoid him or something! I'm not! I just... "...Why do we have to cook, though?" He asked, plunking down into the chair nearest to Sei's defeatedly. He glimpsed a smile on the doctor's face from around his teacup.

"It's not so terribly awful; I'll explain what to do, and we'll have a recipe to follow." He paused. "May I assume, then, that your busy schedule has time open today to spend not working...?"

"Yes," Dilandau sighed, frowning to himself. He felt like sulking, as if he'd just lost an argument, but there really wasn't anything to be annoyed at--in the end, he'd decided to stay for himself. "Just let me send for Gatti..." Not waiting for a response, he stood and went over to the door. Punching the Messenger Call Line button, he then waited for a reply.

One ring...two...three, and then, "Messenger Call Line--do you like cheese?"

"About as much as I like you," the albino answered in a tone that explained just how sparsely little fondness that really was. "Send Gatti to Dr. Sei's medical ward immediately." Without waiting for Toei, who of course was the cheeky messenger answering the line, to make some snappy reply, he hung up. Damned messengers...they think they can be disrespectful just because they're not talking to me face-to-face, is that it! He crossed his arms again, staring at the door and waiting for it to open. Behind him, Sei was moving something around, because he could hear something metallic hitting the counter, and then several solid 'thunk' sounds; heavy objects of some sort, he presumed. At the moment, he didn't care to look. Where the hell is Gatti! It was always annoying using the Messenger Call Line, because then if Gatti was late he wasn't sure if it was the Call Line's fault or his. More than likely, the Call Line...but, he always slapped Gatti for being late just in case it was actually his fault. He had still arrived late, inconveniancing Dilandau, so it made sense...right?

The door slid open, and in stepped one perfectly-poised blonde messenger.

"I apologize for being late, sir," Gatti bowed, looking indeed irked at himself for the lateness.

Slightly placated by the apology, Dilandau didn't slap him this time, but instead settled for a dangerous tone as he demanded, "What the hell kept you? What if this was something important?"

"I was in the middle of delivering one of your previous messages to the Strategos when the Messenger Call Line called on me, sir," the blonde explained, straightening. Sweatdropping a bit, he held up one of the several rolled scrolls he carried, adding, "I have his reply here, sir, if you'd like me to read it." His expression told Dilandau that the reply, as expected, was one that would not make him very happy. Seeing as he'd sent a message asking why Folken had to give his men physicals so much, as it kept them from their work, he was fairly certain that the reply would be an unsatisfactory one.

"Not right now," he dismissed the message offer shortly, frowning. "I have a message I want you to deliver to the rest of the unit." As soon as the words 'I have a message' left his lips, Gatti had whipped out a blank scroll and his quill and inks, and was prepared to write said message down. Dilandau frowned; he hated it when he had to say what he was about to, but with him absent and half the unit in physicals it wouldn't do to make the few remaining ones spar all day...especially not without supervision of a captain. "The Dragon Slayers are relieved from whatever work they may or may not have had assigned to them for the rest of the day; tell them to enjoy their free time, because as soon as the physicals are past we're working extra-hard to prepare for our next mission!" Having written this as fast as his captain could voice it, Gatti looked up, expecting another sentence or two, but Dilandau only waved his hand. "That's all--get to it, and this applies to you, too, as soon as you deliver the rest of the messages I sent out this morning."

"Yes, sir," the blonde bowed, looking a bit weirded out at the prospect of a free day. Rolling up the new message scroll, he tucked his calligraphy kit away and was out the door in less than two minutes.

Turning back toward the back of the room, Dilandau grumbled, "They should be thanking you, Sei, for getting a day off..." He trailed off, blinking strangely at the assortment of objects on the counter. Coming over, he leaned down to examine them more closely; there were two large bags, one containing white powder and the other a white granulated substance, as well as numerous small bottles of both liquids and spices, a small basket filled with little oval, hard-looking things, a set of various-sized spoons all hooked together by the handles, a similar set of cups with attached handles, and finally a little slip of paper with a list of things and a block of text written out on it. "What is all of this for...?"

"For making biscuits, of course," Sei smiled at his expression, coming over and placing a small jug of milk on the counter beside the other objects, "Surely you know that making biscuits requires mixing up dough?"

"Of course," Dilandau replied immediately, scowling. He hoped the lie wasn't too blatant. The truth was, he had never cooked anything in his life, and the only foods he knew anything about preparing were storeable rations, such as hardtack. It was easy to prepare hardtack; dip it in something and wait for it to soften enough to eat it. Cookies, if they took this many ingrediants, seemed like too much trouble! He poked one of the small bottles, watching the thick blackish liquid inside ooze around, and a bit of uncertainty slipped into his voice as he asked, "So...what do we do first?"

"First, we mix all of the dry ingrediants; would you like to do that while I combine the wet ones, or vice versa?" Sei placed two bowls on the counter, one in front of Dilandau and one in front of him.

"I don't know!" Dilandau frowned; this was frustrating. Since he knew nothing about making cookies, it was impossible to give an answer and not sound clueless! "You pick."

"Alright..." Was that a hint of a knowing smile the captain thought he saw? When he turned to look, though, Sei appeared to be calm and serious. Handing Dilandau the set of cups, he explained, "You'll be mixing up the dry ingrediants, then; according to the recipe, that means that first you measure two cups of flour into your bowl." Thankfully for Dilandau, he nodded toward the bag of white powder so that the youth knew it was the flour without having to ask.

Dilandau scrutinized the set of cups for a long moment, frowning. 'Two cups'...but, which cup? What, am I supposed to just pick one at random? They're different sizes, so if I chose the wrong one that would change the measurements...dammit! Why the hell should I have to do this, anyway! Unaware of quite how sulky he looked just then, the albino finally just decided to use the middle-sized cup--not too big, not too small, right? He scooped out a good heaping cupful of flour and dumped it into his bowl. Seemed to work. He did it a second time; that was the two cups needed, right? Not so hard. He could do this.

Beside him, Sei had assembled the bag of that granulated white substance beside his bowl, as well as the bottle of dark, thick oozy liquid Dilandau had been scrutinizing earlier.

Nodding toward Dilandau's bowl, the doctor murmured, "I see you've measured out the flour; may I borrow your measuring cups to measure out the sugar and mollasses now?" 'Mollasses'? What the hell is 'molasses'? Shrugging, Dilandau handed him the set of cups without comment. Examining them carefully, Sei then glanced down at the recipe. "Ah, yes...first, a cup of sugar."

A cup...let's see which one he chooses, Dilandau thought. As he watched carefully (while trying not to look like he cared in the least), Sei selected the largest cup of the set and scooped out a level cupful of the granulated white substance, which must have been the sugar. The biggest one is the one cup measure? Dammit! Dilandau glanced down into his bowl of mis-measured flour and sweatdropped. And if I dump it back and measure it again he'll know I messed it up, too... As if the mess-up wouldn't be obvious in the end result if he didn't fix it! Scowling, he poured the contents of his bowl back into the flour bag and waited for the measuring cup set to be free for use again.

As luck would have it, Sei handed it back to him just then. "Here you are...I hope I let the butter soften enough." The last comment was more to himself than to Dilandau; he picked up a wooden spoon and went about mashing whatever unfortunate ingrediants were in his bowl. Glad he was too preoccupied to notice that Dilandau had dumped his flour back, the latter hurriedly re-measured out two cups of flour and then asked, "Now what?"

Glancing into his bowl, Sei didn't seem to notice the trail of flour on the side suggesting he'd dumped it out before, replying, "Now you add the spices; one teaspoon of cinnamon and a half teaspoon of nutmeg." Picking up the spoon Sei had stirred his tea with before, Dilandau held it up and shot the doctor a skeptical look. "Oh, nono, one of the measuring spoons is called a teaspoon," the doctor looked like he wanted to laugh, but for the momant he only nodded toward the set of measuring spoons before returning to his own task at hand. Picking up the measuring spoon set, Dilandau was momentarily frustrated that he didn't know which to use. He glared down at the spoons...and in doing so, noticed that they had things written across their handles.

'1 Tablespoon', the largest read.

'1/2 Tablespoon', read the next-smallest.

And on the next one down...

'1 Teaspoon'. Why the hell do they name a measuring spoon the same thing they call a real teaspoon? Grumbling inwardly, Dilandau next searched for the cinnamon; thankfully for him, it was clearly marked 'Cinnamon' in Sei's handwriting across the label. Uncorking the bottle, he carefully measured one teaspoon of the powdery stuff into his bowl. What was the next thing to put in? ...Oh, yeah. Nutmeg. He glanced at the small army of bottles and bags. I wonder what that looks like... He examined each bottle carefully, acknowledging vaguely in the background that Sei had snagged the set of measuring cups again to pour a small cupful of that oozy black stuff--was that the molasses?--into his bowl. Ugh...! How can someone consciously eat something like that?

"Sei," he finally said in frustration, "I give up! Where the hell is the nutmeg!"

"In the small brown bag labelled 'Nutmeg'," the doctor replied patiently, stirring the contents of his bowl thoroughly. When he made no move to offer any further assistance, Dilandau turned his scowling at the ingrediants on the table. Lo and behold, now that he knew to look for a bag in particular, the bag with the nutmg presented itself...it had been dropped so that the label faced downward. Finding the half teaspoon amongst its set, the captain measured out one spoonful of the brown powder, wondering why, with that small of an amount, anybody even bothered to put the nutmeg in.

"And now what?"

"A fourth of a teaspoon of salt."

A fourth of a teaspoon? And here he had been thinking half of one wasn't enough to bother adding! Surely enough, though, the smallest spoon in the set read '1/4 Teaspoon' across the hande. The salt was easier to find than the other ingrediants; it was in a salt shaker. Evidently, a fourth of a teaspoon wasn't enough salt for Sei to bother getting out a bag of it, if he had one. Dilandau was quick to measure out the salt and dump it into his bowl.

Looking down at the mess of variously-colored powders in his bowl, Dilandau was beginning to have new respect for any cookies he'd eaten in the past. Who would have known that this many different ingrediants were involved in making something that seemed so simple...? I've never really cooked anything before...I wonder...

"Sei..."

"You need to stir all of it up next," Sei responded, figuring he was asking what the next step was. Picking up the nearest stir-worthy object--a big wooden spoon--Dilandau nodded.

"Fine, but I was wondering..."

Sei blinked, glancing at him. "Yes?"

It must seem strange that I'm showing any interest in this weird activity whatsoever, Dilandau decided, asking a bit curiously, "Do you know how to make anything but cookies?" No wonder the food he serves me when I'm here is actually edible...maybe he makes it instead of getting it from the galley!

With a little smile, the doctor replied a bit embarrassedly, "Nothing spectacular, I assure you. For the most part, the only thing I know how to make from scratch would be biscuits. Biscuits and herbal remedies." Okay...maybe he doesn't make the food he gives me when I'm here. Dilandau sweatdropped.

"Oh." He gave the dry ingrediants in his bowl a vigorous stirring...and ended up with a small cloud of powders puffing up into his face. He sneezed. More puffing. "Dammit...!"

"Oh, it's not so bad," Sei laughed, waving some of the dustcloud in the air away. "Don't worry about making a mess."

"But I just finished measuring all of that out, dammit!" Dilandau glared into the bowl. He was actually upset over spilling the stuff...if somebody had told him when he woke up that morning that he'd be upset over spilling spices and flour, he would have laughed in their face, and yet there it was.

"You didn't spill much of it; it seems like much more than it is," Sei explained with a smile, stirring the powders more gently. "And it looks like it's the right color; time to combine the two!"

"The two...what?"

"The two bowls of ingrediants--would you like to?"

"Alright..." Dilandau agreed wearily. "Just...just dump them together, then?"

"Right--gently, now, and pour the powders into the wet ingredients, not vice versa."

Picking up the bowl of powdered ingrediants he'd so painstakingly prepared, Dilandau bit his lip and poured them ever-so-carefully into the bowl of wet ingredients. There was a slight poof of powder into the air, but not too bad. Glancing at Sei to be sure it was what he was supposed to be doing, Dilandau picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the concoction--extremely carefully. A little too carefully.

"You don't need to stir quite so timidly, if you please." Sei was obviously rather amused. Hoping his embarrassment wasn't too obvious, Dilandau frowned and stirred the dough furiously. The powders blended into the brownish mixture the wet ingrediants had made, and soon became a thick, richly brown dough.

Dilandau poked the dough blob, raising an eyebrow. "And...this is what cookies are made out of?"

"Mm-hmm," Sei measured several cups of sugar onto a plate, "Let's both form them, shall we?"

"Okay..." Dilandau agreed skeptically. He did nothing for a moment; he was watching to see what Sei did first. Noticing this, the doctor pinched off a small piece of the dough, rolling it into a little ball. Placing the ball onto the plate of sugar he had bought over earlier, he rolled it carefully around until every bit of it was coated. Picking it up, he very carefully paced it onto one of the thin baking sheets that Dilandau had only vaguely acknowledged being on the counter the whole time.

Turning back to the bowl--and Dilandau--he smiled, "That's all there is to it."

Gingerly, Dilandau pulled off a piece of dough from the blob in the bowl. He placed it between his palms and rolled it carefully into a ball. Heh...not so hard! I wonder if these will bake and stay round. Cookies are supposed to be flat, aren't they...?

"Dilandau, you may want to make that ball a tad smaller," Sei suggested gently, sweatdropping a little.

Smaller? What's wrong with it this size...? Frowning, he compared his dough-ball to the sugar-coated one of Sei's on the baking sheet. Alright, so his was about twice as big as Sei's...did it really matter?

"Why do they need to be this size, anyway?" He asked, pinching off the excess dough despite his words. Re-rolling the ball, he started to roll it in the sugar.

"Because, if they were any larger only a few of them would fit onto one baking sheet," Sei explained, rolling another ball of his own. "They have to be set a good three inches apart--they expand in the oven." Dilandau sweatdropped at the bizarre mental image the words produced--an image of big, round balls of dough swollen together on a baking sheet inside a shadowy and ember-tinted oven. It looked...like they could burst messily at any moment. Deciding that he didn't want to see the result if he made the dough balls oversized, the albino very carefully rolled balls the same size as the first one Sei had made from then on.

After awhile, the baking sheets both were covered in sugar-coated balls of dough. Sei popped them into the oven with a smile, and then went about putting the tea kettle on to boil. Dilandau, meanwhile, peered into the forgotten cup of tea the doctor had been drinking when he had first arrived.

"Wow, Sei...I don't think any tea of yours ever got a chance to get cold before today."

"Oh, no, it has happened before," Sei assured him, pouring water into the kettle, "Once, I fell asleep at my desk while doing paperwork, and my poor cup went stone cold during my nap!" Dilandau smiled a little, envisioning this.

"Heh." He looked at the rest of the dough, which still resided in the bowl, thoughtfully. "So, how long do these have to bake for, anyway...?"

"Not quite fifteen minutes; why don't we sit down for awhile in the meantime?" Dilandau opened his mouth to say that he wasn't really tired, but then he remembered that Sei's knees sometimes bothered him.

Shrugging, he agreed, "Sure."

They both sat in their respective chairs, and for a time there was a peaceable silence in the room. Dilandau propped his elbow against the arm of the chair and leaned his face against that palm, sighing. He hated to wait for things. Out of the corner of his eye, he sneaked a look at Sei and saw him watching the kettle heat happily. Well, at least Sei's enjoying this... He sighed a little. I guess I really don't visit him much unless I'm injured...but, there's a lot to do, and not much time to do it in. I'm busy! He frowned to himself, And he's busy, too...we're really both too busy to have time to spend with anyone else just for our own amusement, but still we cling to this strange relationship. ...I guess...that maybe we need it.

Idly, he watched as Sei got up to pour the tea. Maybe...maybe, just a tiny bit, he was right when he kept saying to take a day off sometimes. They hadn't gotten much of anything useful done this afternoon, and yet it didn't seem like a waste of time. Dilandau sighed. Still, it's so much trouble to set time aside...for silly things like baking cookies. I've got so much more important things to do! He knew even as he thought the words, though, that he wasn't really there today to bake cookies--he was there to spend time with Sei. And that didn't seem like such an unimportant thing.

"Are they done yet?" Dilandau spoke up, noticing just then that Sei was over near the oven.

"Hmm? They seem to be getting there, yes. If you come over here, you can tell when they're done; the air starts to smell like them."

"Oh...?" Getting up, Dilandau came over to stand near the oven. Crossing his arms, he sniffed the air critically, looking so serious that Sei couldn't help but look amused in return. "They smell done," the youth informed his father figure seriously; for someone who had never baked cookies before today, he certainly managed to sound confident now.

"Let's check on them, shall we?" Sei picked up the pair of oven mittens he'd placed on the counter when bringing out the rest of the baking ingrediants; handing one to Dilandau, he slipped the other onto his hand and pulled the oven door open a crack to peer inside. Following his example, Dilandau slipped his own mitten on and leaned close to peek inside the oven, too. The cookies, thankfully, didn't look anything like his strange imagined idea of what would happen if they were too large. They were round, flat and crackled on top, a medium brown in color, and the grains of sugar all over them sparkled in the light that sneaked through the crack in the oven door.

Dilandau glanced at Sei, wondering if they were done. He didn't know what these cookies were supposed to look like; they looked good enough to him, but maybe they were still doughy in the middle...?

Sei smiled, though, and opened the oven door all the way. "You're right--they're perfectly done! Here, why don't you take out the second tray?" As he was saying the last sentence, he carefully gripped the edge of the top baking sheet and pulled it out of the oven. While he turned to sit it on the counter, Dilandau glanced down at his oven mitten, wondering idly if it was really that heat-resistant. I wonder if it can burn... He reached and grabbed the remaining sheet of cookies, sitting them onto the counter.

"Do they stay on the pans until they're cool?" He asked, glancing at Sei.

"Not quite...they should be taken off of the sheets with this," the doctor held a flat metal spatula out to him, "Would you care to do the honors?"

Dilandau smirked, accepting the utensil. "Sure--where do I put them?"

"The counter, right here," Sei looked amused; perhaps he thought it funny how serious Dilandau was suddenly being. For some reason, it wasn't as important to Dilandau now that Sei not notice how new he was to baking. He must know I haven't baked before...I've got too many important things to do to waste my time doing useless things, after all. The albino smiled to himself, carefully sliding the spatula underneath a cookie. Like wasting my time with Sei.

--Owari

AN: Merry Christmas, Lord D!(sweatdropping smily)Sorry if this fic wasn't too exciting...I figured that Dilandau and Sei sometimes need to spend some time together that doesn't involve being hurt or upset. I hope you like it! (Hehe, and even if you don't, don't worry--I sent something in the mail for you, too. )

If anybody else is reading this, thanks for doing so even though it's not full of angst and Dragon Slayer commaraderie for once. Happy holidays, everybody!