SGA Life, with a little spice – Chapter 17
"So..." he says, on entering the empty kitchen, eyebrows lifting in expectation, "you wanted to see me?"
He looks round, checking there's no one but them and walks up to her, stopping a few feet away from the table where she's assembling her poptarts.
She pouts. "Can you just give me a minute so I can finish the frosting?" she asks.
He nods quietly and walks to the counter where she always keeps a fresh pot of coffee but the pot this time is empty and even clean. "No coffee?" he asks.
She shrugs. "It makes me want to puke. When no one else is around, I just empty it."
He bites his bottom lip in embarrassment. Her pregnancy – the elephant in the room. "Yes, I did see no one was around..." he baits her.
She huffs and walks to the sink to wash her hands. "Yes, John, I know no one is here but there are guards outside. Come on, give me a break!"
He pouts but relents. "Sorry. We're all on edge these days." He motions for her to sit with him at the table. "I'm sorry too because I don't have much time. What can I do for you?"
She sits reluctantly and rolls her eyes. "What indeed?" He huffs. "Well, you could for example not ask me to humiliate myself in front of my whole staff when I still have months to work with them, John!"
He sighs. He suddenly feels like they're back to square on, years from now, when he first met her in this very kitchen and they would cross swords all the time. "You remember when I first came to your kitchen?" he chooses to deflect.
She looks away. "Yeah. You came for Elizabeth's dinner," she says very quietly, pain in her voice. No matter how long ago it was, she still mourns their first leader, as she mourns every person who's touched her life and is now gone, the weight of it getting heavier as names add to the list, it seems. He'd never looked at it that way until now.
He tries to lighten the mood. "Well, this kitchen is still as welcoming it seems as it was then but now it's me who gets a tray on my doorstep every night," he tells her. "Tell whoever is doing it that I greatly appreciate it." She gives him a tense smile. "You are?" he asks, nonplussed.
"Who else?" she counters.
"I thought it was one of your under-cooks taking the initiative. Surely, you don't have the time for that anymore," he says.
"No, but see, I'm still taking the time to do it anyway. You need to eat and I can't picture your 2IC pampering you," she replies, making him chuckle.
"I would probably be offended," he says. He falls silent then looks at her and gives her a tentative smile. "Thank you."
She nods. "You're welcome," she replies, feeling the butterflies in her stomach grow to epic proportions. "John," she insists after a minute's silence, "I know you're a busy man..."
He pouts. "Yeah, about your staff... Look, Louise, it's a reasonable demand. I need to know you're safe among them."
"And this will be achieved by telling them I'm a bad mother?" she baits him, anger flaring.
He looks utterly surprised. "I never said that. And I'm not asking you to tell them about your decision to leave. I just want you to tell them you're pregnant so they can go easy on you," he counters. "How could you believe I'd be that cruel?" he adds indignantly.
She huffs and stands then starts pacing. "I can't tell them I'm expecting and let them think everything is going to be fine. They'll see we're not together anymore. And not telling them would be as good as a lie, John!"
He pouts and looks down at his hands he's folded on the table. "Oh my God," she cries out, "you want them to coo about the baby so I'd change my mind!" she accuses him.
He looks up at her and pouts. "John Sheppard," she chides him, slapping his shoulder viciously, "you're... you're..." she stammers, too angry to finish her sentence.
"Desperate is the word you're looking for, Louise," he tells her quietly. He stands and walks up to her but she takes a step back.
"Don't," she says, glaring at him. "This is not fair play. None of this is."
"And it's fair to me because...?" he prompts.
She rolls her eyes. "Life's not fair, John. You of all people should be used to that by now!"
He grabs her arms and pulls her closer, forcing her to look at him. "Louise, please, I'm begging you. Do not rush into this. Take your time to think about it. There are countless parents who've lost a child and welcomed others after that. Some who even have one right away. You've got to have a little faith in yourself. Everyone says it – you'd be a great mom."
She slowly shakes her head and pulls out of his grasp. "I know me, John. I would be a bad mother. I was a bad mother. I would hurt him. Believe me, children know when they're not loved," she counters sadly.
"Because you were not loved? So you know it?" he insists. "Did your mother tell you that?"
She looks away. "And there's more, right? He said it too. I remember what you told me once. He said you were a bad mother."
She gasps for air. "Just once," she whispers. "He said it once."
John slaps his hand on the table next to them. "And you believed them! Now, that takes the cake! You don't believe me. You don't believe your friends but you believed them! Damn it!" He combs his hand through his hair.
She walks up to him and lays her hand on his cheek, surprising me. "Because they were right all along, John," she says through her tears. "My mother... My husband... They knew who I really was. And you don't. Because you choose to see the good in me and ignore the rest."
He grabs her hand before she can scamper off and holds onto it, needing her to reconnect with him before it's too late. "You're not being rational. It's your hormones talking and your fear too. Don't let it get between us. Please..."
She realizes they're here in this very room because she had resigned herself to beg for his mercy but it's him who's doing the begging and she cannot take that. It shouldn't be that way. They shouldn't have stooped so low. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. All of this is my fault. I should have been more cautious. It's because of my carelessness we're in that situation."
He huffs in exasperation. "No, Louise. If I remember properly, it takes two people to make a baby and one instance of Murphy's Law to lead us where we are." He takes her hand into both of his. "I'm not asking you to reconsider now. I'm just asking you to think about it. Here, proof of good faith – I agree to wait before we tell people about your pregnancy," he offers, bending a little to look into her eyes. "What do you say?"
She pouts and feels her heart beating two hundred miles an hour. Her hands in his, that's so not a good idea because, let's face it, she misses him so very much and she feels weak and needy and would do anything at the moment to stay with him.
She gently removes her hands from his and gives him a tentative smile. "I would greatly appreciate that, yes," she thanks him.
"And will you think about it?" he insists, looking hopeful, and that puppy look he gives her, boy, it would be enough to break her heart in tiny little pieces, never to be mended again.
She lifts her hand cautiously and caresses his five o'clock shadow. "I don't want you to get your hopes high," she counters.
He leans into her touch and mirrors her tender gesture by trailing his hand along the side of her face. "Just say you'll give it a serious thought. It's all I'm asking for," he replies.
She nods quietly and he bends to ghost his lips over hers, making her whimper inwardly. "Thank you, sweetie," he whispers.
He pouts. "Look, I'd like to stay but I need to go back to work," he apologizes.
She shrugs despondently. "Is OK. I can connect to that..."
"Yeah, well, you go easy, OK? Jen says you need to rest..." he replies worriedly.
"I'm not made of glass, John. Work is good. It takes my mind off my worries," she counters gently.
He chuckles. "I know that. Just be reasonable, OK?"
She smiles at him and nods so he kisses her forehead before heading for the door. "Don't bother sending a tray my way tonight. I'll try to come round," he calls over his shoulder as he passes the first preps filing into the room for the evening meal and Ventrell who's come to see her.
She overhears them converse quietly for a minute or so and then John leaves the room and she suddenly feels cold inside.
She shudders as she sees Ventrell approach her. "I'm surprised to see Colonel Sheppard here," he mentions offhandedly.
She blushes a little. "We needed to settle a dispute," she replies.
"And from the look on his face and yours, I take it you've settled it?" he wants to know.
She shrugs. "More like found some common ground. Let's say things are much better than they were this morning," she says, not wanting to say too much.
He smiles at her but looks almost displeased and that unsettles her a little. "Something's the matter, Odai?" she wonders.
He shakes his head, his lips pressed together. "No, no. Actually, that's very good news, right?"
"I suppose it is, yes," she replies, nonplussed.
"Well, if that's what you want then it's for the best," he answers cryptically.
"I don't get it, Odai. What do you mean?" she insists.
He takes her elbow and pulls her gently away from her preps. "I was under the impression you'd already settled things with Colonel Sheppard and you knew what you wanted," he says in a hushed tone. "But I can understand you miss him. We talked about it the other day," he adds and she frowns so he elaborates. "Me and Sheppard. I mean, you know," he shrugs casually, "men talk. I don't know much about you girls but I guess it's normal to want to get his attention."
She frowns some more. "He said that?" she demands.
Ventrell shakes his head. "No, no, it was not like that. Like I said, guys talk. What with your pregnancy and all..."
She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. "Well, Odai, let me tell you something! Yes, we women like to "be" with our men," she says, making air quotes, "and yes, we pregnant women can get very needy sometimes..."
He looks away, embarrassed to see people are looking at them as there's obviously some sort of argument between them and the boss being pissed these days, some of them are very interested in seeing how this turns out.
She realizes she might have gotten a little worked up so she lowers her voice and tries to remain collected. "Sheppard and I, we... we have history, and yes, I miss him. Am I ready to reconsider my decision? I don't know," she confesses. "I sure don't know..."
He pouts. "Look, I'm sorry I upset you. And please, don't be mad at him for talking to me about you," he asks her.
She scoffs. "I'm not mad at him. I'll just have a few things straightened up when he comes round tonight for dinner," she says resolutely.
"He's coming tonight?" Ventrell looks surprised.
She gives him a warm smile. "He said he'd try to come, yes."
"Good for you," he replies but his look seems to belie his words and she suddenly wonders if he might be jealous. After all, they've developed a close relationship since he's cleared her and they've spent a lot of time together, sharing things about each other most people don't know about. She frowns and he looks away then the moment has passed and he looks his usual composed self again.
"Look," he says, motioning to the door with his thumb, "I need to run. I still got stuff to do before I can call it a night. I'll see you later."
He ambles nonchalantly towards the doors and she shakes her head to get rid of that awkward thought she's just had. Ventrell is probably just disappointed she's acting like she doesn't know what she's doing. She could slap herself for being so stupid!
She's deep into checking everything that's leaving the kitchen to head for the buffet when Harry, her under-cook, calls her on her headset. "Ma'am, could you please spare a moment to get down to the storage room?" he asks her and she can tell he's worried.
She huffs and taps her communicator. "Can't it wait?" she replies. "It's really not the moment to add to my already long list of problems," she chides him. "And what are you doing down there anyway?" she demands. "I thought I'd told you to do the inventory this morning."
"I did, Ma'am, I mean a part of it but I was interrupted and then I thought I'd finish it tonight after my shift," he explains painstakingly. "Please," he insists, "I really need you down here."
She huffs and looks around. The place is buzzing with activity and she can't find her other under-cook to send him downstairs. She stops one of her preps on his way to the mess hall. "Private, where's Sergeant Sanders?"
He shakes his head. "No idea, Ma'am. Probably in the mess hall..." He waits for her orders, still holding the tray loaded with fresh bread he's supposed to take there.
She nods. "Go and if you see him, tell him to take over for a few minutes. I'm going down to the storage room."
She glances at the clock. It's almost time for dinner to be served and even if she deems herself childish for that, she intends to stick around the mess hall until John comes along – if he does.
sighs in exasperation as she takes the transporter to the storage room, two floors below. She hasn't been there in days and hopes nothing's the matter. "See what happens when you trust others to do your job?" she grumbles to herself. "Those guys are useless."
She enters the room and sighs with content at the sight of all the crates piled high everywhere. Each trip down here reminds her of both happy and painful moments – the evacuations, the Wraith attack but also Aiden's warm smile and the time they'd chased after the chickens, her successful trading missions and all the wonderful new fruit and veggies she'd brought back from her trips off-world to exotic planets.
She smiles to herself but her smile slowly fades as she sees Harry Blakeley on his knees, a Zat trained on his head. And the hand that is holding the Jaffa gun is none other's than Bill Cox's.
He smirks at her grimly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he tells her, seeing her hand drop to her thigh holster she now wears round the clock. He nods at Blakeley's head. "You know how it works, I surmise. I've already had to shoot him once – to make my point. Now, if I shoot him a second time..." he sniggers, obviously enjoying himself.
She gulps and lifts her hands away from her body. He nods appreciatively. "Much better. Sound choice if you ask me," he mocks her.
"What do you want, Cox?" she asks him.
He shrugs casually. "What could I possibly want?" he sniggers. He makes a show of thinking about it then snaps his fingers, McKay-style, and that in itself makes her want to smack him over his arrogant head. "I remember! One, I want to get the hell out of here. And two... I want you to come with me," he tells her smugly.
She snorts. "Not gonna happen, buddy. I'll certainly not come with you willingly and there's no way they'll let you step through the gate," she informs him.
"Yeah, well, you know, in another time, maybe... But you're carrying Sheppard's child so two hostages for the price of one... I'd say I have a pretty good chance of getting what I want," he counters.
She gapes and he sniggers. "Close your mouth, Ma'am," he mocks her. "Not very becoming for a mother-to-be."
She feels her temper flare in spite of the looming danger and her concern for Blakeley who's still on the floor and looking like he's gonna pass out any minute. From the sweat beading up on his forehead, she guesses it's not only anguish that's making him look green. Cox must have shot him pretty bad. Regardless, she needs to buy them time and she needs to get to the bottom of it. How did he manage to hide for so long? And how did he learn about the baby?
"How do you know that?" she demands.
He snorts. "My little finger told me," he taunts her. She rolls her eyes so his smile turns grim. "Seriously, I had help, of course! Why don't you ask your "friend" here to tell you how he fooled everyone?" he suggests, motioning with his zat to the man who's just appeared from behind a crate.
Her blood turns suddenly cold in her veins and she feels all hopes leave her. "Odai," she stammers, "what is he talking about?"
He snorts, coming to stand beside Cox. "Ah, Louise, didn't I warn you not to ever trust me? Didn't I?" he insists cruelly.
She gulps. "What do you want?" she asks him, feeling her head spin and grabs a crate to support herself.
He waits until he can see she's not going to faint. "Same as him," he replies, nodding towards Cox.
"Why?" she whispers. "You've got a good job at the SGC. You're making friends and a life for yourself," she pleads. "Why waste everything you've so painstakingly built there?" she insists.
He scoffs. "You're so naive, Louise. You always see the good in people." He walks up to her and looks her in the eye. "I built all this so I could have access to Atlantis and you, my dear, are my life insurance."
She looks him in the eye, trying to grasp what all this entails. "You killed those people," she says. "Back at the SGC. Grady. The others. And then you used the zatarc device to plant evidence against someone so it would look like he'd done it, right?"
He grins at her. "There you go! Now, that's the Louise I know. Smart and down-to-earth. You know, I like you much better that way than when you follow Sheppard like a love-sick puppy," he tells her. "I was starting to worry about you..."
The memory of their aborted trip to the South Pier and how pissed he'd been suddenly comes back to mind. "It's not Cox who called me down here. It's you!" she accuses him, pointing at him viciously. "You thought I was going to go back to Sheppard and then the opportunity to find me alone would be lost!"
He smirks. "That's my girl! See, you're not as dumb and weak as you seem. " She rolls her eyes, making him chuckle. "You don't like to be called smart but you are. Cameron had told me you were much more than a little cook. I'm glad 'cause I hate weak women. They're just a liability."
"All right," Cox cuts them in. "Can we just cut to the chase. We don't have all day and you two are talking much too much," he says impatiently.
Ventrell turns to him slowly. "Of course, Bill, what was I thinking!" He hands him disposable restraints. "Tie him up," he orders, nodding at Blakeley.
Cox sighs heavily. "Ah, come on, don't tell me you're afraid to add to your long list of murders!" he sniggers.
Ventrell scoffs. "You're right, I'm not," he replies grimly and Louise grabs his arm, in the flimsy hope to stop him.
"No, please, don't," she begs. "I'll do anything you say. Just don't shoot him. He hasn't done anything to earn this."
He smirks at her. "You're such a goody-goody, Ms Léger," he mocks her then trains his gun on Cox and shoots him in the head before the other man has the time to realize what's happening.
Louise jumps in fright. Ventrell turns to her, his look now grim. "Now I've got us rid of that useless punk, let the party begin." He hands her the restraints. "Tie him up," he orders once more.
"You're not going to shoot him?" she insists.
He rolls his eyes but doesn't answer. "You're not going to get cute?" he counters.
She shakes her head silently.
"Then go," he pushes her towards her under-cook.
"Ms Léger, please come in," she hears in her headset as she's getting to her feet.
She slowly turns towards Ventrell but he has his eyes trained on her and she knows she doesn't stand a chance should she make a move to answer.
"Sheppard?" he wonders.
She shakes her head. "My other under-cook."
"Tell him you'll be right there," he orders.
She does as told.
"Alright, Ma'am. Well, you told me to call you if Colonel Sheppard was coming down for dinner and he's just arrived," he informs her, apparently not realizing something's not right. Louise has been gone for nearly twenty minutes and she never leaves them for that long when on duty.
Ventrell motions for her to play along. "Alright, Ben. Well, if he asks for me, tell Colonel Sheppard I'll be there shortly. Léger out."
"Good girl," Ventrell tells her. He rips her headset off her ear and Blakeley's too then pushes her towards the transporter. "Let's get on our way. The more we wait, the more people we'll have to pass on the way to the gate, the more people I might have to shoot..." he warns her.
They reach the kitchen's level and he pushes her towards the pantry. "Get your stuff. Medical kit, sugar. Then we'll grab what you need from the cooler."
She looks at him, horrified. "You don't really want me to go with you, right? I promise I'll do everything to help you escape through the gate but I can't go with you."
"Yes, you can and you will, Ms Léger. I came for you. I won't leave without you. Told you so already – you're the key to all this," he tells her.
She turns to him and gapes, realization settling in. "You're the one who was to abduct me on that planet. You're behind all this."
He smiles. "Told ya'. Smart girl! Now, get a move on!"
He grabs her things from her hands and stashes them in a bag then grabs a large cooler from one of the shelves. "That enough for a few weeks of insulin?" he asks. "I can always call them for more if need be," he reflects offhandedly, as if they were leaving on extended holidays.
He sees her hesitate. "Is it?" he growls. She nods silently.
"Then you go first in there," he tells her, knowing they have to pass through the kitchen's main room to get to the walk-in fridges. "And remember lots of innocent lives depend on your being a good girl."
She takes a deep breath and walks assuredly towards the large doors. "Ma'am, here you are!" Ben greets her. "Colonel Sheppard is keeping a seat for you. Said he didn't have much time."
She looks towards him and gives him a fake smile. "Good, I'll be right there. Mr Ventrell and I need to get something from the fridge first," she tells him.
She hurriedly grabs as much medication as she can get her hands on and stashes it in the cooler with some ice.
He pushes her towards the door. "Let's get going."
"Please let me grab a few things from my room," she stalls. "Spare clothes, a toothbrush..."
He hands her the bag he's carried from the storage room and in which he's stashed her med kit. "Already have. I took the liberty to drop by at your place this afternoon and pick up a few things you might like to have with you. See, all taken care of. Now, go!" he insists, his eyes darkening.
"How...?" she wonders, not knowing how to put it.
"How do I want to play this?" he fills in. "You and I, we leave the kitchen peacefully... with you as my shield, of course." He wraps his arm around her and points his gun at her stomach. "You make the wrong decision, the baby dies. Simple enough?"
She nods, terrified. "I'll be good. Please don't shoot anyone."
"If no one shoots at me," he counters.
They're halfway through the kitchen before anyone realizes anything. It's pretty busy in there and everyone is trying to keep up with the pace. The first person who notices is the prep in charge of the dishes that night – a cute brunette who, apart from the color of her hair, reminds her a lot of Wilson. Smart girl who obviously has a bright future. She gasps and locks eyes with Louise. Louise shakes her head slowly, silently pleading her to remain calm, but someone near her lifts their heads and everyone freezes in a matter of seconds.
Ventrell looks almost bored. "Alright, alright, people, no need to start screaming. Your boss and I are going to leave this room and you're going to resume feeding the good people of this City. Got it?" he orders.
They all look petrified and she can connect to that. Wraith, they can take. Replicator invasion, they'd be ready for it. But a vulgar abduction? It looks as incongruous as a vampire playing poker in Vegas. She nods at them to do as told and he pushes her towards the exit.
The worst part is yet to come and she wonders if her time might have finally come or if she'll get to see another day.
When they enter the mess hall, John lifts his head as if on cue – as if he'd detected her presence instantly. And freezes when he sees the gun.
He gets to his feet as if in slow motion, his hand dropping to his gun and she shakes her head pleadingly. By now, most men in the room have had the time to train their guns on Ventrell.
Louise is as white as a sheet. "Please, don't," she begs.
"Listen to the lady," Ventrell orders. "You're going to let us through the gate. Any address will do. We'll go from there," he says, making Sheppard know they won't probably be able to trace him.
"We can't let you do that," Sheppard replies, eyeing the bag on Ventrell's shoulder and the cooler in Louise's hands. "You can gate to any address you want but you leave her here."
Ventrell snorts. "I don't think so, Sheppard. As I told your little girlfriend here, I came for her, I leave with her."
She sees realization dawn in her companion's eyes. And then anger takes over. Cool, collected anger. John is white with rage. "You son of a..." he growls. He motions for his men to surround him and trains his gun on Ventrell. "Louise," he says coolly, "sweetie. You're gonna have to trust me."
Ventrell sniggers. "The stunt you pulled on Koyla... It was a one-time thing. It won't work this time," he tells him smugly. "You try it. You'll have her blood and his on your hands," he says, pointing at Louise's belly for good measure.
Louise shakes her head at John, looking terrified. "He'll kill him, John. He's killed Cox and all those people at the SGC. He won't hesitate."
John doesn't lower his gun and neither do the men who accompany him but he lets them pass into the corridor leading to the control room.
They make their way painstakingly along the hallways, Ventrell's back to the walls at all times, making it impossible for anyone to have a clean shot.
They arrive at the bottom of the stairs and he nods for Sheppard to order the gate opened. She sees John hesitate and feels the pressure of the gun on her belly. She looks pleadingly at her companion.
He shakes his head. "I can't let him take you. He'll kill you the moment he's on the other side."
Ventrell's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "That's what ya' think?"
Sheppard mirrors his stance, daring him to say the contrary.
"Why would I kill her when she's my best insurance? We'll get in contact regularly. Say every other week. You'll need to get us some more meds anyway. And I'll tell you what I want. You do what I say, she stays alive," Ventrell explains patiently.
"You know we don't negotiate with terrorists," Sheppard says through clenched teeth.
"And I also know that you don't abandon your own," Ventrell counters.
"What do you want?" Sheppard insists.
"I'll tell you soon enough. Time to say goodbye," Ventrell replies and Louise feels the life drain out of her but she doesn't want John or anyone to get killed trying to rescue her so she puts on a mask and gives him a small smile.
"He's got food and meds and even clothes for me," she tells him. "He's not going to hurt me."
He nods and turns to Amelia and nods his assent. She starts sequencing.
She sees Shep bounce down the stairs as the gate whooshes open, Chuck behind him. "I'm sorry, God, that dog, I swear!" he growls.
Ventrell tightens his grip but the dog seems totally oblivious of the danger and bounds towards them.
Louise yelps in fright. "Shep, down!" she orders.
John grabs the dog by his collar and growls. "Down, Shep!"
The dog freezes but whimpers, asking for permission to join his mistress.
Ventrell relaxes a bit. "You want to take him with you?" he offers Louise and she looks up at him in dismay so he insists. "You may, if you want. I don't mind. And he'll be well-treated, I promise."
She breathes in and ponders it for a second and it breaks her heart to say no but she can't risk his life. "John, you take care of my dog, you hear," she tells him, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. "And don't feed him any junk food, OK?"
He nods and gives her a tentative smile. "And you take care of yourself. No burning the midnight oil, alright?" he banters.
Ventrell pulls her backwards until he's got his back to the shimmering puddle. "You could do something good, Odai," she whispers to him. "You could just leave me here," she pleads. "There's still time to change your mind."
"Told you," he whispers back in her ear. "You don't change people." One more little tug and she's sucked into the wormhole. The journey lasts only a few seconds and she's pulled through the gate into a large clearing.
Ventrell lets go of her and runs to the DHD. In a matter of seconds, the gate is spinning again and she knows that wherever they're going, she doesn't stand the chance of a snowball in hell being found.
TBC
Extract from Louise's Cookbook
Homemade Poptarts
I know it seems long to make but it's so worth it and not difficult at all.
On the plus side, you can have virtually any filling you like and even make different ones in the same batch like a different one for each day, for example. Just saying...
Pie crust (for 9 poptarts):
2 and 1/2 cups flour, sifted
1 and 1/4 tsp salt
6 Tbsp butter, chilled and cubed
3/4 cup shortening, chilled
1/2 cup ice water maximum
Filling: (brown sugar and cinnamon)(for other fillings, see bottom of this recipe)
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp flour
Egg wash:
half a beaten egg
1 Tbsp milk
Glaze:
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1 Tbsp milk
1/2 tsp cinnamon (or 1/4 tsp vanilla extract for other fillings)
Make 2 balls of pie dough with the flat hook if you have a kitchenaid. Flatten the balls and refrigerate for 2 hours.
Make 9 rectangles of the same size in each ball and leave in the fridge on a pastry sheet for 15 mn.
Assemble your poptarts: one rectangle at the bottom, egg wash, one Tbsp filling, spread, leaving the edges free, egg wash side down, egg wash on top. Press with a fork, sealing the dough on all sides.
Refrigerate 20 mn.
Poke holes to allow steam to escape. Brush with the rest of the egg wash. Bake for 20 to 30 mn, 350°F.
Cool on wire racks.
Glaze.
Poptarts can be frozen and thawed directly in the oven for 10 mn, 300°F.
Filling: It can be replaced with jam, nutella, crumbled oreo cookies with milk, cookie butter, pumpkin butter... In that case, use the vanilla glazing and add funfetti for decoration.