ourshinycity | (no subject)

Peeta had no taste for danger. He understood why people wanted to go down and explore that city under the ground. He just wasn’t one of them. He’d had more than his fair share of it already.

No. Other people here might be willing to risk their lives for the sake of curiosity and exploration, but he was fine with manning the fort at home. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. It wasn’t born out of cowardice or fear. It was just him recognising that it wasn’t for him. Maybe next time, but not now.

There was a fine layer of flour on his arms and hands, dusting his shirt and smudged on his cheeks. It was familiar. It was comfortable. It was just the right sort of thing he needed. His hands working the dough, he carefully rolled it out before twisting it into elaborate knots. He was so engrossed in his work that it wasn’t until he had finished with about five of them did he look up and realise that someone had entered the bakery. Smiling widely he stepped closer to the counter.

“Hi. What can I get for you?”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

While Jenny wasn't sure she understood the practical purpose of having a bakery on the island — wasn't the kitchen sufficient, wouldn't that have been easier, keeping everything in one place? — there was no reason to ignore it, knowing that it was there. Besides, if there was one thing that could be said for a good portion of the residents of Tabula Rasa, it was that they knew what they were doing with an oven. She may have learned how to bake in school, but it was nothing compared to these. Besides, they were free, and who was she to turn down free baked goods?

Stepping inside, she couldn't help smiling at the sight of a familiar face. She hadn't been in the greatest of moods when she'd met Peeta, but he had been nice, and so far from home, she wasn't about to ignore that sort of kindness. "Hello," she said warmly, palms resting against the counter when she reached it. "I — I don't know, actually. What do you recommend?"

As far as Peeta was concerned, having a bakery didn't actually make a lot of sense but he was going to go with it. There was something to be said about not looking a gift horse in the mouth (he didn't know enough about horses to gauge what that meant), so he was working under that principle. So far it hadn't really served him wrong. It was another thing for him to do that filled the sometimes impossibly long hours of the day.

"Well," he leaned against the counter to get a better look at what there was to offer. There was a definite mix of a little this and a little that. "It all depends on whether you want something sweet or savory. Which would you prefer?"

One day he would come up with a baked good that would be both, but he hadn't managed it yet.

"Sweet, I think," Jenny answered, giving a short nod, mostly to herself, after giving her response. That was all there really was to come to a bakery for, in her opinion, however many other options she knew there to actually be. There was just something to be said for keeping it simple, sticking to the basics, and changing things up within those confines. "What does that leave me with for choices?"

Sweet was something that Peeta could do.

It might not be his choice (he had always preferred savory), but he wasn't doing this for himself, but rather making a recommendation for someone else. With a great deal of care, he examined the contents of the bakery's shelves running through his mental list before getting started. "Well, that leaves you with things like cinnamon nuts rolls or apple strudel or chocolate chip scones. I think there might be something with blueberries around here something. Or you could go with an old stand by: the cupcake."

As he listed the items off, he pointed to each of them in turn. Eating was often just as much about the sight of the food as it was about the flavor. "So what you think?

Watching as he indicated all the different pastries, Jenny couldn't help the slight grin on her face, one that just bordered on eager. It was a simple thing, of course, nothing of any real consequence at all, but there was still something nice about how personal it was, the way he knew about all the different things and was willing to go into such an explanation for her. That was what everyone said, though, about how nice people were. She was beginning to think that it really was true.

"I think I'll go with the chocolate chip scone," she said, glancing up from the case to look at Peeta again. "How does that sound?"

There was nothing wrong with being excited over something so small. Big things caused enough problems, were hard to get one's hands on and disappeared to quickly. No, the little things were nicer. They didn't seem to slip away so fast.

Wiping his hands off on a rag, he smiled and nodded. "That sounds great. Now let's see," Peeta shuffled a few of the other items away to get access to the scones. With the quick skill of an expert, he pulled a clean rag from the stack that was used just for these things and plucked the scone that seemed the most appealing from a visual way. Moving things back into their place, he straightened up and held it out for her.

"There we go. Anything else that I can get for you?"

"Nothing that comes to mind," Jenny said, thoughtful, as she took the scone he held out to her, breaking off just the corner of it and popping that into her mouth. "Gosh, this is wonderful, thank you." She hadn't expected any less, of course — if people had gone through the trouble of building a bakery when the kitchen would have sufficed just as well, it was bound to be because there were people well-suited to run it — but it seemed of note all the same.

Glancing around the room and seeing no one else there, she leaned sideways against the counter, looking at Peeta all the while. "So is business terribly slow, or have I just come at the right time?"

Peeta grinned broadly at Jenny's reaction. There was something nice about being the reason for it, even if it was because of something that wasn't fully his to start with. That was why he liked baking. It was more than the fact that it was something that connected him to his family (good memories and bad). It was something simple that brought people joy no matter where they came from.

Wiping his hands off on a rag, he shrugged. "It gets slower as it gets later. So I think you just found the right time," he said pausing to consider it further. "Also I think people are still a bit worked up about that city they discovered. Takes them away from here and all that."